Love & Decay (Season 1): Episodes 1-6

by Rachel Higginson

  “There,” Haley pointed in the distance. “What’s that over there?”

  We followed her finger and saw a trailer park. Nestled next to a cross highway boasted a big sign proclaiming “The Grove- Comfortable Mobile Homes and Trailers.”

  “The Grove,” I mumbled, reading the sign. “What do you think, Vaughan?”

  “I think it’s empty, has running water, plenty of food and toilet paper,” he answered confidently.

  I was shocked, more so by his willingness to lie to everyone now than anything else. “Really?”

  “Really,” he repeated.

  “Are you joking?” I demanded. I kind of hated how I questioned him on everything, but he wasn’t my big brother, I didn’t have to take his word as gospel. Plus, I secretly believed he liked the challenge.

  “No, I’m not joking, but our other options are a Zombie-infested hell hole, or worse, people. I have neither the strength nor energy to deal with either. So I’m trying to stay positive. Plus, you really do smell. We have to clean you up or someone is going to accidentally shoot you and I can’t afford the wasted bullet right now.”

  Yeesh. I’d never heard Vaughan so disparaging before. I wondered if he was just tired and cranky or if something else was going on.

  “Please, nobody shoot me,” I begged dryly. “The trailer park it is.”

  They were already walking in that direction, though. Apparently my vote didn’t count for much.

  We stomped through fields of tall weeds and thick grass, still wet from last night’s storms. We didn’t speak on our walk over and everything else was quiet; the whole world was quiet. There was no traffic on the highway, no doors opening or closing in the distance, there were no birds flying overhead or insects buzzing around the plants and flowers. Only our shoes stepping through the tall grass disturbed the silence.

  We walked along a fence that wrapped around the property until finally we came to the front entrance. This park appeared to at one time been well taken care of and maintained, trash was littered everywhere, along with discarded pieces of furniture, dishes and clothing. Several structures were caved in, either by animals, Zombies or the elements. There was more than one car visible under tented carports and parked in driveways.

  We moved past an administration office of sorts and into the park proper. Narrow driveways led up to doublewide trailers that once had owners that took pride in their homes. Now each place had fallen into disrepair or been vandalized. Windows were smashed, front doors hung off hinges and more than one home sported enormous holes in the siding.

  Hoping for less chaos, Vaughan kept us moving toward the back of the park. Looters and vandals weren’t picky with what they took or destroyed, but often times they were lazy. They only went after what was easy, what was accessible. The back of the park threatened more danger, but it wasn’t like we weren’t used to fighting for our right to party. If last night was any indication of what we were willing to put up with for a dry place to stay and a decent night’s sleep….

  Although we got neither.

  “We’re not staying the night here, obviously.” Vaughan’s voice was barely above a whisper. “But maybe we can at least clean up and restock some of our supplies.”

  “So, just…. pick one?” Hendrix asked, his voice louder and more confident.

  Vaughan sighed but nodded. “Yeah, just pick one. Stay in pairs. I’ll take King and Harrison. Nelson go with Haley. Hendrix stay with Reagan. Page, you can choose your group.”

  “With us!” Haley volunteered immediately. I suppressed my smile. “Page, come with us. We’ll search for fun stuff.” Haley grinned wickedly at her. Nelson stared after in outraged disbelief.

  “Really?” he demanded.

  “I have a shopping list,” she hissed quietly. “You won’t let me get anything done if we’re alone.”

  “Exactly!”

  “What’s on your shopping list?” Page asked innocently.

  “Toys,” Haley replied.

  “Oooh, what kind of toys?” Page asked, delighted with her group.

  “A doll for you,” Haley replied slowly. “And lots of goodies for me.”

  “You know, even in the Apocalypse I hate shopping with girls,” Nelson grumbled but followed after Haley in search of toys, which I took as code for tampons. Boys just had no idea how hard it was to be a girl.

  Hendrix and I turned away from Vaughan and the younger brothers in search of our own shopping lists. This was like a neighborhood scavenger hunt, only not nearly as exciting and instead of winning a prize, you just got to not die.

  It was odd splitting up like this, but this place was definitely low key. There were no lurkers hiding in the shadows, or even wild animals poised for attack. The entire place felt acutely empty; we took advantage of that.

  Besides, I had Hendrix, the one-man killing machine and what was left of his guns and ammo to protect me. That was enough to make me feel safe.

  “We should get you cleaned up first,” he stated, definitely not a suggestion.

  “Which one feels right?” I smirked up at him.

  “Now we’re hippies?” He looked down at me, amusement flashing in his deep blue eyes.

  “Not hippies,” I corrected. “Gamblers. Which one feels lucky?”

  “You’ve been talking a lot about luck lately,” he sounded entertained by that. “Maybe you’re the one feeling lucky?”

  “Definitely,” I quickly agreed. “I’ve had Feeders at my throat more than once today. Yet here I am. Someone’s on my side. And it might not be luck, but I can’t help but feel a little bit lucky and a lot blessed.”

  “Plus there’s me?” He led the way up a set of latticed stairs and kicked open a door to a relatively unscathed tan trailer.

  “You?” I laughed.

  “Yes, me,” he scowled at me like I should have already been thinking that.

  “Sure, you,” I patted his chest as I walked past him into someone else’s home and shook my head. He was getting way too sure of himself.

  We spent some time exploring the trailer. A family had lived here with two parents and two little girls. Hendrix picked out an abandoned Barbie and blond-haired doll for Page out of the dusty collection left behind. We also found toothpaste, floss, two bottles of expired Tylenol and Benadryl in the bathroom. A half-gone tube of Neosporin made this trip extremely worth it.

  In the Master bedroom, Hendrix pocketed a few pieces of jewelry that looked like real gold and silver and we found some articles of clothing to replace the ones we were wearing. We could have easily gone through our packs, but truthfully this was easier and we didn’t have to waste time unpacking and repacking.

  In the little girls’ room I also found Page some more socks, underwear and practical pieces of clothing like t-shirts and jeans. A new hair brush was a great addition as were a few chapter books to help keep up with her education. They made me feel actually rich and wealthy in the most important ways.

  In the kitchen we didn’t find much, but there was an entire case of bottled water and granola bars. We set aside half of the water and used the other half to wash off.

  “Strip,” Hendrix commanded. “Take as much off as you feel comfortable with and I’ll help you over the sink.”

  “You’re so bossy,” I growled, but already started to obey. He walked over to lock the front door and I started taking pieces of clothing off in the middle of the kitchen. I kicked them to one side and didn’t stop until I was back in my cami and underwear. My bare feet felt funny on the cool linoleum floor and I wiggled my toes in the air just because I could.

  “This could almost make me thankful for Zombies,” Hendrix rasped in a deep voice.

  He walked over to me with slow, purposeful steps. I backed away from him until I hit the sink behind me. He, of course, didn’t stop, not until his hand was splayed across my hip and his thumb was making light circles on my exposed stomach.

  “Tip your head back.” He looked down at me, eyes flashing with barely restrained
heat.

  I swallowed against the lump in my throat, unable to do anything but obey.

  He carefully poured the room temperature water over my head with one hand and worked the fingers of his other one through my hair. I closed my eyes as he completely wetted my head.

  When he pulled out the shampoo, I realized I had a choice to make. This was heavenly and strangely erotic, but this was definitely not the most efficient way to go about this.

  “Here, this will be easier,” I promised.

  I turned around and leaned forward over the sink. Together we worked the shampoo through my hair, then I helped him rinse it out. He disappeared for a second into the bathroom and reappeared with several washcloths. We wet a couple being painfully careful not to spill any extra water. Then I got to work, giving myself the best bath I could while I was still partially dressed, half asleep and dealing with Hendrix’s roaming eyes.

  “You’re so aggressive,” I finally sighed. I was on my fifth washcloth, since they were impossible to rinse properly. “I might never like you.”

  He let out a bark of laughter and straightened to standing. He toed off his shoes and stripped right in front of me, right down to his boxers. Dang it, and I was really hoping not to be affected by his near nakedness.

  “You might not,” he agreed, which surprised me.

  I leaned over as he dipped his head down toward the sink and started pouring water onto his head. I ran my fingers through his too-long hair, right along with the water; he moaned a deep, rumbling sound of approval.

  “You might meet another girl, one that you like better,” I suggested, although the possibilities were slim, not that it was impossible, to find someone better than me, just that he literally couldn’t find someone else. We might be all that remained of the normal, human population.

  “Maybe,” he still agreed, but this time he sounded very cynical. Surprisingly a pang of pride hit me; I liked, even if it was reluctantly, that he didn’t think he would like someone better than me.

  “I’m not that great,” I promised him, feeling the need to throw myself to the wolves out of fear of the unknown. “I’m kind of high maintenance.”

  “At this point, Reagan, I know what I’m getting myself into,” he countered.

  “But we’ve only known each other for a few weeks,” I argued. “You don’t really know anything about me.”

  Hendrix stood up and faced me. He casually leaned back against the counter and let his eyes travel my length, taking in each part of me. Slowly he reached for a towel, also from the bathroom, and began to dry off. But it was too late; steady streams of water had already begun to move down his chest, over the contours of lean muscle and into the dips and ridges that marked the way.

  I was kind of mesmerized by the whole thing.

  “That’s not true,” he finally broke the weighted silence between us. “I know that you’ve never been afraid of death, not even when I found you in that department store and you only had three bullets left and you were not afraid last night either. I know you’ve kept your best friend alive for the last two years, that you love her like family and would do anything and everything for her. I know you’ve risked your life for my family, more than once. And I know you’ve risked it for me. I know you don’t like bugs, but you do like animals and it bothers you that you haven’t seen one in a while. I know you miss your parents and your old life but you courageously keep a façade up for everyone else’s sake. I know you hate killing, that it makes you sad, but that you’re brave enough to do it anyway because you want to survive and you want those you care about to survive. You’re good, funny, beautiful and strong. And maybe there is a lot I don’t know about you yet. But what I do know, I like and admire. And the greatest adventure I can imagine living would be to get to know every piece of you that’s left to discover.”

  My heart stuttered in my chest, and my throat closed with an unnamed emotion. Hendrix baffled me most of the time, infuriated me a lot of the time and called to some hidden part of me all of the time. But it was moments like this when I was convinced I was a book and he was the only one who knew how to read me, that I was music, but he was the only one that could hear me.

  I didn’t believe in fate, or destiny or any other bullshit like that. How could I after I had witnessed Zombies take over the planet and kill almost everyone alive? Any higher power with good intentions had clearly moved on from this world.

  But in this moment, this isolated moment in my life when time felt like it stopped and the world ceased to exist outside of these thin walls, I could almost believe Hendrix was created specifically for me.

  Even if that was crazy.

  “I’m not ready for any of this,” I whispered, gesturing between the two of us with my pointer finger.

  “You don’t have to be,” Hendrix promised. “I’m not asking for anything, Reagan. Just maybe that you get to know me, too. At least make an informed decision before you put up all those steel walls you have around you.”

  A small smile tilted my lips. Maybe he did know me better than I thought.

  “I’ll think about it,” I compromised without giving him his way and hiding behind those walls he was talking about.

  “You’ll think about it?” He asked dryly. “That’s very magnanimous of you.”

  “Well, I do what I can,” I sighed.

  “Better get dressed,” he ordered, his eyes floating over my exposed skin like a caress.

  “We should probably get going,” I agreed, unable to move from my spot. I couldn’t, not when he was looking at me like that, like I was a treasure, like I was worth more than bottled water and medicine.

  “That and I just sounded like the best kind of guy. Really pulled out my A game. If you keep standing there half naked I’m going to ruin all that by attacking you,” he confessed with a small smile.

  “Ok, I get your point,” I called out from over my shoulder as I sprinted from the kitchen. I locked myself in the master bedroom and pulled on new undies- from my backpack- yoga pants and a maroon long sleeved Razorbacks t-shirt from the woman who used to live here.

  I fingered my wet hair into a low, over the shoulder braid and traded my filthy, bloody shoes for a pair of worn tennis shoes that were a size too big, but better than nothing. I finished with Chapstick- not exactly a necessity but after Hendrix’s speech I felt like I needed something to break up the no-makeup, freshly-survived look. And I was too tired to deal with actual makeup.

  Although I still had plenty of eyeliner.

  When I emerged from the bedroom Hendrix was already dressed and ready to go. He must have packed up all the water and food because it was nowhere in sight. His loose t-shirt and baggy jeans were all a little too big for him, but he’d grabbed a belt from the man that lived here and the shoes were a perfect fit for him. He managed to make it all look hot as hell, and even with his wet hair hanging over his eyebrows he was male perfection and a thousand percent testosterone.

  I shook my head, wondering how in the world I was going to keep my distance from that? Not when it wasn’t just good looks and sex appeal, but chivalry and goodness and charm.

  We were silent as we abandoned the trailer, leaving it empty and in disarray just like the previous owners. We walked quietly until we found the rest of our group, all huddled around a wood-paneled, rusted-out minivan.

  “Does it run?” Hendrix asked with careful control, cautious not to show any hope.

  Vaughan nodded, “And it has a full tank of gas.”

  Vaughan’s eyes darted between Hendrix and me in a look of narrowed distrust. When our gazes caught and tangled together something flashed behind his shuttered expression. He held my stare for a few charged moments, cleared his throat and looked away.

  “Then what are we waiting for?” Hendrix asked.

  “Nothing,” Vaughan shook his head. “You guys.”

  My eyes found Haley’s through the crowd and I smiled at her wet head and rosy blush. She was avoiding Nelson like the Zombie-p
lague and I was so itching to talk to her about everything. Instead, I climbed in behind her, and sunk down into the dusty seat. We reached for each other’s hands and she laid her head on my shoulder.

  “Get clean?” She asked quietly while Page climbed into the back with us.

  King was shoved back there too, so we were squished and sitting on top of each other, but it was worth it to have actual transportation after more than a week of walking.

  “Yep,” I sighed. “You?”

  “Yep.” She echoed. “We need to talk.”

  “No kidding,” I laughed.

  We fell silent as Nelson and Harrison loaded our packs in the trunk and filed into the captain chairs in front of us. Vaughan slid into the driver’s seat and Hendrix road shotgun like usual.

  Then we were off, pulling out of the trailer park and headed south on the highway again.

  Hendrix was right when he called this an adventure, and not just one of survival. We were fighting for our lives, yes, but we were experiencing life in a way I didn’t know existed.

  There was danger at every turn, pain and difficulty. But there was community too, and hope and love.

  We’d accidentally crossed paths with the Parkers, but because of them we had a quality of life that hadn’t been there before, even before the Zombies. They added a layer to our lives that resounded with happiness and friendship.

  And maybe, with one of them… something more.

  I didn’t know for sure yet. And I probably wouldn’t know for a while. But while we fought through this world of death and decay I was willing to find out.

  I was willing to put down my walls and let something like love in, even if it wasn’t love yet.

  Episode Four

  Chapter One

  681 Days after initial infection

  Haley

  My feet hurt. My back hurts. My brain hurts.

  Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

  We’ve been with the Parker brothers for over a month. Each day passes and we breathe a little easier around each other, a little more familiarly. And Reagan and I relax just a smidge more with each hour we’re not fighting tooth and nail for our lives alone.