Anyone?

by Scott, Angela

  Ugh! I yanked my blanket from him and gathered it in my arms. “You’re an ass.”

  He responded with a drawn out snore. Whether it was real or not, I didn’t care. Of all the people in the world to end up with, why him? Why? He was just so... not normal!

  Part of me wanted to storm out of the RV and go sleep somewhere else, but I still had no idea what had happened or if evils lurked in the darkness, so I made sure the RV door was locked, actually checking it a couple of times, and crawled into my own bed.

  I had always felt like a tolerant person, giving people the benefit of the doubt, but now I wasn’t so sure.

  I didn’t know how much more I could handle of Cole and his weirdness.

  My poor body must have been completely exhausted and I succumbed to unconsciousness despite my brain reliving that night’s experience, because I would have sworn I’d never sleep again. Not after that.

  Somehow, I had fallen asleep, and when my eyes fluttered open, the RV was empty and the door stood wide open.

  I sat up and looked around. “Cole?”

  The echo of metallic sounds filtered in through the door, and I removed myself from the bed and stretched my arms above me, taking a moment for myself before investigating what Cole was up to.

  Wow. I actually felt good. Amazing how sleep, even a little of it, could make a difference. My stomach growled its discontent, and I couldn’t recall the last time I’d eaten—the stew back at Rite Aid, maybe—but knew before I remedied my hunger, I needed to find out what the heck last night had been all about.

  He’d parked himself under the RV awning at the head of the mahogany dining table and spread out before him was the George Forman grill, or what was left of it. Tools littered the surface and he bent over the mechanical mess with a soldering tool. A strange place to do work. Anyone else would have treated the dining table with a soft hand and used it only for formal occasions. But not Cole.

  Interesting. So, he wasn’t planning to grill food after all. I felt a little better to know he wasn’t completely nuts. He’d actually had a reason for the grill.

  When I opened my mouth to quiz him on what he was up to and quiz him about last night, he looked up at me, set the soldering tool aside and lifted his safety glasses to the top of his head. “You can’t do that anymore,” he said.

  “What are you talking about?” Hitting him? Waking him up? My brain had barely begun to function and his words confused me.

  “Last night. You can’t be sleeping in my bed anymore.”

  I scrunched up my face. “Don’t you think that’s the least of our problems?”

  “Where I’m sitting, having you sleep in my bed is a pretty big problem. So don’t do it anymore, okay?”

  Oh. My. Gosh! “Wait... what are you... do you think there’s something going on”—I motioned to him and then myself.—”That’s not at all why I went and slept in your bed last night.” Eeew, eeew, eeew! Yuck. “I was a little scared last night. Well, a lot scared last night, but that’s it. I swear!”

  “Because you’re a kid and coming onto me, as flattering as it is, would be wrong—”

  “You’re grossing me out.” I wasn’t awake enough for this kind of thing. “Knock it off.”

  He stood and pointed to me. “You’re cute and I’m magnificent, I get that, but even in an apocalyptic situation you can’t let your hormones get the best of you. That would be wrong.”

  “You think?” I threw my hands up. “Why are we still talking about this? I can hardly stand you, so there’s no worry about me having sex with you. Okay?”

  He nodded and went back to his grill. “Good. I wanted to make sure we were both clear. No touchy stuff.”

  “Yeah, definitely.” I shuddered. “Not even if you were the last guy on earth.”

  He glanced up, looked around, and smiled. “Touché.”

  I waved him off. “Are you going to tell me what last night was all about? The crazy trance thing, because it really scared me and you frightened my cat too, making her act all weird. I thought you might be seeing ghosts or something.”

  He shrugged, brushed the hair off his forehead, and placed his safety glasses back on. “I slept like a baby last night up until you hit me.”

  “Really? You don’t remember anything?” Could he really have been that asleep? Even with his eyes open? I tried to play the whole thing back in my mind, but came back to the same conclusion each time—one of those paranormal freak of nature kinds of things. Definitely not normal.

  “Nope.” He bent over the pile that was once a grill and began tinkering again as though we’d reached the end of the conversation.

  We totally hadn’t.

  “You’re not the least bit curious?” I climbed down from the RV and came to stand at his side. I leaned closer and closer until I forced him to acknowledge me.

  He let out his breath. “What are you doing?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m trying to talk to you about last night. It really, really scared me.”

  “Tess”—he adjusted his safety glasses—”everything scares you. Tell me something new for a change.”

  I grabbed those glasses from his face and tossed them to the side. “You scared me, Cole. You.”

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment, but took a deep breath and settled more comfortably into his chair. “Are you sure you weren’t having a bad dream? Yesterday could do that to a person.”

  “I was wide awake! You sat up, stared intently at something not there, then you nodded, which was the creepiest thing I’d ever seen, before lying back down as though nothing happened. It was weird. Really weird.”

  Maybe he really didn’t remember anything. People talked and walked in their sleep all the time and had no clue they even did it. I didn’t know him well enough to decide if this was a fluke thing or something he did on a regular basis. Yet, I didn’t feel right brushing it off.

  “So you’re telling me I sat up, stared at something, nodded and went back to sleep?” He held both hands in front of him shaking them for effect. “Oooo...that sounds horrifying. No wonder you were scared.” He grabbed a screwdriver and waved it at me. “Have you always been like this? Frightened of your own shadow?”

  “What? Ugh... you are so frustrating—”

  “Believe me, the feeling is mutual, Tess.” He gathered a couple of screws and an on/off switch in his hand, and started to walk away, leaving me standing there.

  I threw my hands in the air. “Forget it, Cole! I give up. You win! Be a weirdo. Be a freak, I don’t care anymore!”

  “Good!” He turned and waved his arm around. “I’m free to be me! Now we need to work on fixing you.”

  The damn rain continued to smack against the roof. In any other situation, I might have found it lulling and beautiful, but right now, it pissed me off. I had places to go and things to do, and being holed up in a giant hanger, as nice as it was, messed with my plans.

  I needed to get going. I needed to be on my way, because so much time had already been wasted—so much time. I moved restlessly around the hanger from one thing to another, trying to keep myself occupied without talking to Cole. I was making a point of ignoring him, though it actually backfired. He didn’t seem to mind, and kept right on adding overhead lights to his garden, rigging up a water supply and timer, and running tests to make sure everything worked. I kept silent. He kept silent. Everything was actually pleasant—for once.

  But after a soak in the hot tub, a bowl of fresh popcorn and a round of putting golf balls into a hole, I soon found myself bored and irritated. Another day of this and I would be bouncing off the walls.

  The hammock swayed slightly as I stared at the ceiling with my hands tucked behind my head. If only I could nap my time away, but for some reason, despite everything I’d been through since crawling out of the bunker, I wasn’t tired. Lazy, but not tired.

  Had Cole bothered to ask me for help, I may have, but he didn’t. Instead, I rested in the hammock, rocking it
with my bare foot that dangled over the side, and continuously blew and popped my bubble gum while staring at the ceiling.

  “Can’t find a way to entertain yourself, huh?” Cole stared down at me, blocking my view of the oh so intriguing corrugated roof.

  “I’m bored.”

  “Only boring people get bored.”

  I didn’t care if he had slighted me. It didn’t matter. Maybe I was becoming used to his offhanded insults. I rolled my head to the side and decided to go back to ignoring him, so I gave the hammock a gentle push to get it swaying once more.

  “You’ve been keeping up on your antibiotics, right?”

  “Not sure how you would expect me to do that. The monster tornado sucked everything I owned away, remember?” I blew a large bubble, bigger than any of the previous ones, but it popped before I could pinch off the end and admire it.

  “I think I might have more for you. I’ll have to check. Also, I need to take a look at your stitches and make sure everything is good to go.”

  I didn’t answer, going right on chewing my gum.

  “Well, then. This hunting your dad down in complete silence should be super fun. So glad I signed on for this.” He stopped the swinging of the hammock and waited for me to look at him. “I’ll be back with your drugs in a second.”

  Besides the stitches itching every once in awhile, I hardly remembered they were there. Tornados, thunderstorms, angel wing tattoos, and wacky dreams—those things had me too busy to think about anything else.

  When he returned, he handed me a bottle of water and two pills, and watched me swallow them both. “If we’re gonna hike a friggin’ mountain, you need to be in the best shape you can be.”

  He did have a point there.

  “How’s your arm?” He didn’t wait for me to respond but raised the sleeve of my shirt. He peeled back the bandage and gave out a low whistle. “Yeah, we probably should have changed the dressing on this after your shower last night.”

  I tried to look at my arm, but couldn’t quite angle my head to get a good peek. “What’s wrong? Is it infected?”

  He shook his head. “Nah, just needs to be taken better care of than what we’ve been doing.” He removed the dirty bandage and replaced it with a clean one, taking his time to tape it in place. “You like playing video games?”

  “Umm... sure. I’m not very good at them though.” Toby played them all of the time, and I mostly watched. The stupid controllers always gave me problems, because there were too many buttons to push. My brother had no patience for my lack of gaming skills and usually sent me away after a few minutes.

  Cole’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Perfect! Meet me at the movie theater in, say, ten minutes. I’ve got to shut most everything down to play, but you and me, we’re taking on some ninjas!”

  His excitement was contagious and I chuckled in spite of myself. “Sure. Why the heck not? What else do I have going on?”

  He started walking away, a little pep in his step, but turned to face me. “Hey, Tess?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I get the whole bored thing. I actually feel ripped off that this apocalyptic mess isn’t due to crazed zombies or an alien invasion. It would’ve given us something to do besides argue with one another all the time. No one can possibly get bored when they’re busy fighting the undead or trying to keep from being probed.”

  As strange as his logic was, I couldn’t help but nod. “Except, I’d be a zombie by now if we had to fight the walking dead.” I hardly made a good survivor under my current circumstances; I couldn’t imagine trying to fend off the undead too.

  He tipped his head from side to side and raised his brows, thinking. “That’s true. You’d be a walker, but in all fairness, you’d probably be a pretty damn good one because of how testy and mean you are.”

  Another backhanded compliment. I didn’t say anything even though what he said was mostly right.

  “You know I meant that as a good thing, right?”

  I nodded.

  “It’s because of your feistiness that you’d be an amazing zombie, ripping off limbs and eating brains like a pro. I can picture the whole thing clearly. Total George A. Romero style.”

  “Okay, you can stop now.”

  He kept up with his cheesy grin. “Sorry. Meet me in ten?”

  I blew a huge bubble, pushing its limits until it popped. “Sure. Ten it is.”

  “You weren’t kidding when you said you sucked at playing video games.” Cole kept his gaze on the oversized screen while maneuvering his hero through the ninja battlefield. His fingers pressed buttons quicker than any person could possibly blink.

  I held up my controller—my hero had been sliced in half and I had to wait to regenerate. “I never said I sucked, just that I wasn’t very good at it.”

  “Yeah, Tess. I hate to break it to you, but there is a difference between being no good at something and sucking at it, and you, my friend, suck worse than I could have imagined possible.” He slid forward in his chair, becoming intensely focused on the game as though it were a real matter of life and death.

  “Well, look at this thing!” I waved the controller at him. “There’re too many buttons! One for jumping, another for swinging nun chucks, and I’m supposed to push these”—I held down the two buttons, moving my character forward while keeping him looking straight ahead—”all at the same time. It’s impossible.”

  “Nothing’s impossible. You need more practice, is all.”

  My character came back to life, and for a brief minute I thought I actually had a chance, but I was dead again within only a few seconds—stupid character staring up at the clouds while ghost ninjas pummeled him with blasts of powder balls.

  I sank into the plush theater seating and drew my feet up and under myself. “I feel like I should be doing something other than playing video games, singing songs, and riding in shopping carts. Our situation is serious and all we seem to be doing is messing around.”

  Cole didn’t look at me. “It’s raining. When it stops, we’ll be more serious. I promise.”

  “Do you even know how to be serious?” I tossed a handful of Skittles into my mouth.

  “Of course, but being serious right now isn’t going to change the fact that it’s raining. Until it lets up, I’m going to enjoy myself.” He glanced at me briefly, smiling, before turning his full attention to the large screen again. “Isn’t that what life’s all about?”

  I gave a non-committal shrug. “I don’t feel like I’m living right now. This is me being in limbo, waiting to live.”

  He paused the game even though his character had leveled up, becoming a master ninja slayer, and turned in his seat to face me. I’m not sure what I was expecting from him. Maybe a keep your chin up kind of thing, but he only leaned forward, coming closer to me than most people would find socially acceptable, and said, “You’re ruining my gaming experience.”

  Instead of backing away, removing myself from the awkward situation, I leaned even closer into him, our noses only inches apart. “Good.”

  The goofy grin he wore faded and his dark eyes tracked mine, staring at me in a way that should have felt uncomfortable, but didn’t.

  I felt paralyzed and vulnerable, his gaze penetrating a part of me no one had ever been witness to, seeing something I wasn’t sure I wanted to share. I couldn’t blink. I couldn’t move. His warm breath feathered over my slightly parted lips, natural and strange all at once. Tiny goose bumps rippled my skin in response, and my own breath lodged itself in my throat.

  I didn’t understand what was happening, but knew well enough that sharing this kind of intimate experience wasn’t right—not between him and me. I barely liked him, so how could my body react in this way? The traitor. My mind whirled in confusion, never coming to rest on a single thought, but accepting the humility and realness his eyes reflected. The mystery of it all held me entranced, however wrong it was.

  Then he blinked. Once.

  Whatever had pa
ssed between us dissipated, and I fell against my seat like a ragdoll, but continued to watch him as my heart eased back into a normal rhythm.

  He slumped in his seat as well, his eyes on the paused screen, his controller resting in his hands. Neither of us said anything, and I knew by the look on his face he had to be thinking the same thing: What was that all about?

  I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to understand, because there was no acceptable reason for that kind of behavior, especially after our lengthy talk earlier. This is ridiculous. I grabbed my open box of candy and distanced myself from him, trying to put some perspective on the whole thing. Weren’t there dishes to be done? Maybe I should try washing my clothes? Another shower, maybe?

  I headed toward the RV, leaving him sitting there to stare at the stilled screen.

  “No touchy-feely, Tess,” he called after me.

  I glanced back at him, and planned to tell him no worries there, but he’d already leaned forward with his arms resting on his knees, engrossed in shooting flying ninjas from the air.

  Besides Cole telling me “no touchy-feely,” we didn’t talk about what had happened between us. A large part of me was relieved about it, too. How embarrassing. We’d slept in our own beds and said very little to one another when we’d woken up. A quick, “good morning,” and even that’d had an awkward taste to it.

  I had hoped facing a new day would have helped to put it all behind me, giving me something new to focus on, but the memory still nagged at my belly and teased my brain. Whatever had happened must have been due to our close proximity and the lack of other people existing in our tiny world. Being the last two people around would make anyone lose their minds momentarily.

  The rain had stopped sometime during the night, and with the rising sun, the hanger started to grow warm so Cole slid the large doors all the way open. He stood there for a minute with his hands tucked into his pockets, and looked off into the distance before turning to me. “The cat’s on a leash, right?”