by Kate L. Mary
Kellan and I waited the required amount of time, fifteen minutes, neither of us daring to break the silence as the seconds ticked by. When nothing around us moved, Kellan started the car. He threw it into drive and took off, accelerating much faster than necessary, and I held on to the door at my side, my knuckles white as I gripped the hard metal.
My gaze stayed glued on the little black dots until they’d faded and were no longer visible. After that, the Oklahoma landscape flew by, a blur of sandy brown broken up by the occasional mound of rocks or dilapidated structure that looked ready to collapse in on itself. Maybe the rundown buildings were a result of the apocalypse, or maybe they’d been that way before. It was hard to say, but either way, this was home. The only home I’d ever known.
We drove a little further before Kellan slowed yet again. The driveway he pulled into was lined on either side by long-dead trees, their bare limbs reaching toward the sky like they had died begging God for rain. Interspersed between the dried trunks and spilling over into the dirt driveway were weeds that went up to my waist and chest. Kellan slowed as he drove over them, stopping completely only five feet from the porch of the old farmhouse. It had probably been a grand place at one time, but now the white paint was peeling, and the porch sagged like it was ready to give up. The windows were intact, and the roof seemed solid even after years of neglect. A few times during a particularly severe storm, branches had been ripped from the nearby tree and banged into the house, causing Kellan and Blake to spend a whole day on maintenance, but it was standing and seemed more solid than a lot of the buildings we passed when out on the road.
Kellan turned the car off, and I climbed out, my bag in hand and my eyes already scanning the surrounding landscape. He was right in front of me, leading the way across the weed-choked yard. We didn’t talk, and I didn’t look his way, but I wasn’t sure if he was still hurt or had moved on to being pissed. I knew it was coming. It was the natural progression of things when it came to Kellan and me. One of us said something stupid or impulsive, which inevitably hurt the other person, and once the hurt had worn off, the anger would take over. We fought more than siblings, which was more than a little ironic considering I constantly tried to put him in his place when he decided to act like my brother.
Inside, the farmhouse looked like any normal living space, although it felt empty and hollow. Our footsteps echoed through the room, the old floorboards groaning under our weight. The air was thick with dust, and the house stuffy from being closed up for a month now—since the last time we’d made a run to Altus. Even the weekly visits Kellan or Blake made when they went out to hunt couldn’t help that.
We didn’t live here, but we tried our best to make it look like we did in case someone decided to get nosy and follow us home. It had happened before. Not to me, but to Kellan and Cade. Last year, someone in the market had gotten curious about where they lived and tried to follow their trail, too stupid to realize the dust left in their wake had given them away. The guys had come here, settled in, and acted like this was home. Two days they’d hung out while the rest of us sweated it out, waiting for them to come back. Worried something had happened. Our hands had been tied, though. Protocol. We were bound to it, which meant we couldn’t go anywhere or do anything until seventy-two hours had gone by with no word.
Those two days had been torture, and had most likely been what finally pushed Cade and Emma together. They had also been a big factor in me realizing my feelings for Kellan had shifted.
In the kitchen, Kellan pulled a canteen of water out of one of the cabinets. His eyes went to me as he took a big swig, and I looked away, busying myself with the contents of my bag. My stomach felt like I’d swallowed about a hundred of the damn flies buzzing around Altus, and I needed something else to focus on.
I found the second apple I’d taken to trade and pulled it out, then hefted myself up onto the counter before taking a bite. My teeth broke the skin, crunching into the fruit, and a burst of sweet juice filled my mouth. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the cabinets, savoring the taste as I chewed.
Kellan pulled the apple from my hand, and I opened my eyes just in time to see him sink his teeth into it. Grinning.
“That’s mine,” I grumbled, but even I had to admit it was half-hearted. The dimple in his cheek was enough to distract me from anything.
“We can share.” His smile widened around the chunk of apple in his mouth.
I reached for it, but he pulled away and took another bite, even though his mouth was already stuffed with apple. He was just tall enough that when he lifted it above his head it was out of my reach, and he knew it.
“You asshole.” I hopped off the counter and charged across the room toward him, but he ducked away, smiling as he chewed. “Kellan, seriously. It’s my apple.”
He took another bite before tossing it my way. “Think fast,” he said, bits of apple flying out of his mouth with the word.
I scowled as I watched the apple sail toward me. When I’d caught it, juice splashed across my hands and already dirty shirt.
I glared at him. “That was a shitty thing to do.”
Kellan shrugged, still chewing, and said, “A lot of that going around these days.”
My stomach dropped. “I knew you were still mad about that.”
“Not mad,” he said through the apple in his mouth. “Hurt.”
My already sinking stomach sank lower. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t what I meant.”
“Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.” Kellan chewed the rest of the apple, watching me. When he swallowed, he said, “You know I love you, right?”
My stomach, which had been traveling south, was catapulted to my throat where it almost forced out the bite of apple I’d just taken. He wasn’t implying what my body thought he was, but that didn’t mean the words didn’t have the same effect on me.
“I know,” I whispered.
I looked down at the dripping apple, now trapped in my grip and halfway to becoming applesauce. That would have been a waste of a good apple, so I forced my fingers to relax.
Kellan said nothing, and the silence between us stretched out until I had to turn away. My stomach had flipped, making the apple seem unappetizing, but I forced myself to lift it to my mouth and take a bite anyway. It was like eating dirt. The crispy goodness now seemed gritty, and the sweet juiciness had turned to rot in the little bit of time that had passed since Kellan uttered those words. I looked down when I pulled the apple from my lips, half expecting to see a worm, but it was just as white. Just as flawless and beautiful as it had been.
I chewed slowly as I headed for the living room, desperate to put some space between Kellan and myself.
“You okay?” he called after me.
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “I’m just hung over.”
It was only a half lie.
I lay on the couch with my eyes closed, pretending to sleep as the sun rose higher. I could hear Kellan walking around the house, the floorboards creaking under his feet. He moved from one side of the room to the other, and then back to the kitchen, no doubt looking through the windows to make sure no one was around. I should help, but I couldn’t force my eyes open. He was on top of things. I could trust Kellan with my life.
“Regan.”
I jerked when his voice broke though the quiet. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but clearly I had, and now my heart was pounding faster than the jangle of a rattlesnake’s tail.
I cracked one eye to find Kellan standing over me, his dark hair falling over his face in the way I loved while his brown eyes looked me over. The expression in them made me want to shut my eyes again because it reminded me too much of who we were to each other. He saw me as his responsibility. Someone he’d gotten stuck with back when everyone else we knew had died. I hated that.
“I’m up,” I mumbled instead of rolling back over the way I wanted to.
“It’s time to go.”
I closed my eyes just long enough to pull myself tog
ether before dragging myself to my feet. My limbs were heavy with exhaustion. Getting home so I could sleep in my own bed would be nice.
Outside, the sun was making its final descent toward the horizon, painting what was left of the blue sky orange and pink and purple. It was beautiful. Almost heartbreakingly so. Living where we did, I got to see so few sunsets, and no matter how lucky and how safe we were, I couldn’t help missing some of the simple things everyone else got to experience on a daily basis. Sunsets, rainbows after a storm, the flicker of lightning bugs on a dark summer night.
Kellan had his bag and was already headed toward the door when I grabbed mine. I slung it over my shoulder and followed, feeling groggy and slightly unsteady on my feet. In front of me, he opened the door, but paused to look around. Before he had even uttered a word, I knew what was coming.
“Heads up,” he called as he stepped out.
Even half asleep, pulling my gun was an automatic response, and it was in my hand before I’d taken another step, the safety flicked off and the barrel pointed at the ground just like I’d been taught. I couldn’t see much of the yard thanks to Kellan’s broad frame, but his tone told me there wouldn’t be more than three of the dead. He was too calm. Too laid back.
When I made it out, I had to squint against the swiftly setting sun. Kellan was already moving across the yard, and through the bright rays I could make out two figures. They were slow, which was normal these days, and after my eyes had adjusted, I could see that they were old. Early days of the apocalypse, I’d guess. Their clothes were little more than rags, torn and weathered, and the zombie on the right dragged his foot behind him as he lurched toward Kellan. Of course, I couldn’t say for sure if the thing had at one time been a he, because at this point there was no way to tell. The creature’s scalp was ripped down to the bone, and not a single tendril of hair had survived, and its face hadn’t fared much better. The skin on its cheeks had been ripped—or eaten—away, and its gums, black and rotten, were visible, along with the few teeth left. There weren’t many, and they were brown, gnarled things that probably hadn’t been in good shape when it was still a person. Not that the lack of teeth stopped the creature from chomping at Kellan and me right now.
I kept my gun out, but transferred it to my left hand so I could pull my knife with my right. Bullets weren’t the issue—we had plenty of those—it was the noise a gunshot would make. Not only would firing a gun risk drawing more zombies our way, but it could also attract the attention of people, and that was the last thing we needed right now. Or ever, for that matter. Especially not the type of people who would come running at a gunshot.
Kellan pulled his own knife when the first zombie was still six feet away. The one in front of him wasn’t the one with the bad foot. No, this one was faster, and his facial features were intact enough to tell me that he had in fact been a man when he was alive. A pair of beat up cowboy boots still adorned his feet, and the tatters of a plaid button up shirt clung to his torso. When he opened his mouth to growl at Kellan, revealing a full set of brown teeth, a shudder moved down my spine. Nine years, and I still wasn’t used to these things.
“Stay back,” Kellan called as he charged forward and grabbed the zombie by the little bit of fabric still clinging to his body.
I didn’t listen, of course, but instead hurried after him so I’d be there in case he needed backup. Odds were good he’d be okay. Kellan knew how to handle himself, but you never knew what was going to happen these days, and it was better to be safe than sorry.
He wrapped his fist in the creature’s shirt, working to keep the struggling zombie at arm’s length. In his other hand he held the knife, which he expertly flipped over so he was holding it blade down. When Kellan lifted his hand, the zombie in his grasp growled and chomped, but he held his ground, not flinching even a little bit when the creature’s teeth snapped inches from his skin. I moved closer, my fingers tightening on the knife in my own hand, but just like I’d thought, he didn’t need me. The blade was stuck deep in the zombie’s eye socket only seconds later, and the thing went down, its body thumping against the dry Oklahoma ground.
Kellan’s eyes were focused on the second zombie when he leaned down to retrieve his knife, but I was already moving before he’d managed to pull it from the skull.
“Regan,” he said, reaching out for me, “stop.”
I was too far away, though, and too focused on the dead man in front of me. Copying what Kellan had done only a few seconds ago, I flipped my knife around so I was gripping it with the blade pointed toward the ground. My heart thumped out a beat that echoed in my ears and nearly drowned out the sound of the moans. Meanwhile, a bead of sweat had begun a slow descent down my body, starting on my chest and moving between my breasts. I swallowed an irrational bubble of fear that was desperately trying to rise up from deep inside me, and kept my gaze focused on the zombie. He was old and slow, but I was young and had the reflexes of someone living. There was nothing to worry about.
I lifted my arm and prepared to bring it down, aiming for the eye socket just like Kellan had, but before I could do anything, he grabbed my elbow and pulled me back. I stumbled over my own feet and tried to regain my footing, but my balance was off and my hands full. I went down hard, my ass slamming into the dusty earth, and the impact vibrated through me until I felt it in my teeth. A hiss of pain and annoyance forced its way between my teeth, followed only a moment later by another thump as the second zombie hit the ground.
Kellan yanked his knife from the thing’s eye socket and turned to face me. “You okay?”
“No thanks to you.” I twisted my body, pushing myself half off the ground so I could rub my sore ass. I’d landed on the bruise that had already started developing from my fall the night before, and I now knew my entire butt cheek was going to be black and blue. “What the hell was that?”
“I told you to stay back.” He shoved his knife into its sheath and replaced his gun in its holster. Then he held his hand out to me. “Come on.”
I slapped it away and pushed myself up, pausing long enough to swipe my own weapons up off the ground. His gaze was on me, I could feel it burning into my back, but I couldn’t look at him. My blood felt like it had been baking in the damn sun for hours, and more than anything right now, I wanted to hit him.
“What’s your problem?” he asked.
“Like you really don’t know.” I stared down at the crisscross pattern the sole of his boots had left behind in the dirt, too angry to look at him.
“I don’t.” He paused like he was waiting for me to respond, but when I didn’t, he said, “You think I should have let that thing take a bite out of you?”
I spun around to face him. “Why do you automatically assume it would have gotten the better of me?”
“Because you’re not experienced enough.” He shoved his hand through his dark hair, pushing it back off his forehead. “You’ve only been out a handful of times.”
“And exactly how am I going to get any experience if you won’t even let me take down a slow zombie like that? What will I do if I’m by myself and I come up against a new one, one that’s faster, and I have no experience? How do you think I’ll survive?”
Kellan blinked like my words made no sense to him. “Why would you be alone?”
“Because things can happen, Kellan.” I rolled my eyes and shoved my knife into its sheath. “Seriously, I can’t even believe I have to tell you that.”
“I’d die before I let anything happen to you.”
His words made my insides clench and tingle. Made me feel like I was soaring into the sky. Still, I was obligated to point out the implications behind them.
“That’s my point,” I said slowly. “What if you died and I was left alone? Shouldn’t I have some experience so I can make a stand?”
Kellan’s mouth dropped open, but he said nothing. We stood there staring at each other while the scorching Oklahoma sun pounded down on us. I couldn’t read his expression, which was st
range. Usually, I could tell what Kellan was thinking. But at the moment, he was too guarded. It was like a wall had gone up.
I blew out a long breath and turned away from him. “Forget it. Let’s just get home.”
He said nothing, but the scrape of his feet against the dry ground told me he was coming. I scooped my bag up on my way to the car, and Kellan slid into the driver’s seat as I was pulling my door shut. Once again, we said nothing as he started the engine and took off, leaving the farmhouse behind.
I hated that my attraction to Kellan had made things between us so complicated, but even I had to admit it wasn’t why we were butting heads right now. Ever since our families died nine years ago and we’d banded together, Kellan had felt like he was responsible for me. Maybe it was guilt because of the words he’d so carelessly thrown at me during those few weeks we were alone, or maybe it was because I was the only person from his old life who was still around. Either way, I was tired of him treating me like a weight he had to drag around, and I’d put up with it for too long. Kellan needed to let me grow up.
6
My Fingers were already on the door handle when Kellan slowed to a stop outside the fence, and the second we were no longer moving, I shoved the door open and hopped out. I could hear the thump of Kellan’s fingers drumming against the steering wheel as I hurried away. To someone else it might seem like he was being impatient, but I knew him better than that. He was probably just humming some tune in his head that no one else could hear. I’d caught him singing when he thought no one else was around more times than I could count.