by Beth Hyland
My stomach tightens as I look around for him. It killed me to see Ivy pushing him around campus—a visual reminder that someone else would be better for her. A clean-cut guy who comes from a nice family. I met Touch my freshman year on the football team and we’ve partied together a few times, so I know what I’m talking about. A guy like him has way more to offer her than I do.
“Yeah, I ran into him back there.” Cassidy adjusts the entry number pinned to her sleeve. “For a minute, I thought he was planning to run in the race, but it turns out he just came to watch. He’ll be near the halfway point to cheer us on.”
The entry gun sounds and the race begins.
The first quarter mile is just running over a wide gravel road. Kelly and Reese take off ahead of us. So much for teamwork. James, Cassidy, and Dani are in front of us and Ivy and I are in the back. We haven’t seen any zombies or gone over any obstacles yet. We’re just loosening our muscles and establishing our pace. The first part is designed to let the cluster of runners thin out as the faster ones outpace the slower ones.
The course leads us into a trail through the woods, so we have to run single file. We hear the first zombie before we see it. Or rather, we hear other people who are seeing it—the group of frat guys in front of us screams like a bunch of little girls.
“Oh shit,” Dani says over her shoulder. “This is it, you guys.”
“Bring it on.” Ivy reaches back and I give her a low five.
“I’m with you, babe,” I tell her. “Remember, guys, it could be an individual or a whole horde, and watch the bushes for crawlers.”
“So let me get this straight,” James says. “Even though you helped organize this run, you didn’t get any advance knowledge of where the zombies are being stationed? Didn’t you at least see a map with the hiding places marked?”
“Nope.”
“You’re useless, Priestly. You know that?”
Some of James’s insults are funny and some aren’t. This one falls into the second category.
A zombie dressed in a ragged suit and tie lumbers out in front of us. Dani sprints ahead and gets past him. James shrieks like a little girl. Cassidy doubles over with laughter and a walker emerging from the bushes yanks her flag.
“Hey!”
Now it’s James’s turn to laugh at her. In fact, he’s still laughing when Cassidy catches up to him.
“That totally should’ve been you, James. Not me.”
He blows her a smart-ass kiss. “It’s called karma and sometimes it’s a bitch.”
She punches him in the arm. “Anyone who screams like that deserves to have his flag yanked.” She quickens her pace to catch up to Dani.
James glances at me, a huge grin on his face. I totally know what he’s thinking.
There’s a large puddle of muddy water up ahead. We can’t tell how deep it is. As everyone is strategizing how to get through it, something flashes in my peripheral vision.
“Watch out. Zombie invasion. Nine o’clock.”
Ivy looks to the left and barely misses getting her humanity flag taken. I start to yell something, but then a twig snaps to my right. Before I can move, a crawler in a clown suit grabs one of my flags. I jump away, but in the process my foot slips and I fall to my knees. Five more clown zombies, walkers this time, close in on me.
“Jon,” Ivy screams, circling back. “I’ll divert them. Get up and run.”
She waves her arms at them like she’s directing airplane traffic at the airport. “Over here. Over here. Oh my God, I hate clowns. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
I have no idea if the zombies have been instructed to react that way, but it seems to work. The ones bearing down on me are now heading toward her. I get up and skirt around them and soon we’re past the muddy water and back on the trail.
“Nice job,” she says.
“You, too. Thanks for saving me.”
“No problem, except that I hate clowns.”
“Well, thank you for facing your fears to save me.”
“You’re welcome,” she says, smiling. She looks down and suddenly her smile is gone. “Crap, Jon. You only have one flag left.”
“What?” I check my belt. She’s right. “I don’t understand. Only one zombie got close enough.”
“He must’ve grabbed two of them.”
“Damn clown zombie.”
“I knew there was a reason I hated them. Along with freaking me the hell out, they cheat.”
Up ahead where the path widens, a tire obstacle looms. Zombies aren’t allowed to attack humans on the obstacles, so we’ll be safe once we get there. Dani and Cassidy have just made it through and James is in the middle. Still no sign of Kelly and Reese. They must be way up ahead by now.
Ivy grabs my hand and we run through the obstacle, taking care not to trip. Even though we used to do a similar exercise in football, Ivy is much faster than me. Just as we step out of the last tire, we hear more screaming.
We look at each other. “James,” we say in unison.
Maybe it’s time to get off the trail. “Do you want to head into the woods and bypass the area all together?”
“Why not?” she says. “It’s worth a try.”
But the minute we leave the main trail, I can tell it’s a mistake. There are at least a dozen zombies that step out from behind various trees, blocking the way. We turn around to go back, but two have stepped in behind us. We’re surrounded.
“Go on ahead,” I tell Ivy. “You have all three of your flags left. You can still make it.”
“No,” she says breathlessly. “I’m not abandoning you. We do this together. Your fate is my fate.”
I know this is only a race, but my heart literally swells just now.
But then a zombie lunges at me. I recognize him from one of my upper level chemistry classes. I sidestep away, but I’m not fast enough. He reaches out, his fingers skimming over my one remaining flag, but Ivy is faster and jerks me away.
Two more zombies come at us, but they’re walkers and easy to avoid. I’m not sure how we do it, but somehow we avoid that horde unscathed.
We high-five each other and continue running the course.
The next obstacle is the mud pit. Again, Cassidy and Dani are the first ones out and James is in the middle. They’re covered head to toe in mud.
I hear moaning to my left and turn just in time to see a shambler. “Go,” I yell to Ivy. “They can’t touch us in there.”
We surge ahead and jump into the mud. Almost immediately, I slip. Ivy tries to yank me back to my feet, but I can’t get any traction. “You go on ahead,” I tell her. “I’ll be right behind you.”
“Shut the hell up.” She’s covered in mud, including a big splotch on her cheek, so it’s hard to take her seriously. “I’d rather face a world with you as a zombie than a world without you. Humanity is overrated.”
“Aw, I’m touched. You’d love me even if I were a monster?”
“Even if you were a monster.”
It occurs to me that I just used the word love. Does Ivy love me? Could she love me? My throat goes tight.
But I don’t have time to dwell because she’s laughing hysterically. One of us slips, pulling down the other one, and somehow I end up on top of her. We’re covered in mud. Our hair, our clothes, our faces. It’s literally everywhere.
Her eyes are suddenly serious. God, even covered in mud, she’s hot. I wipe my lips with the back of my hand, which doesn’t do any good because my hand is covered in mud, too. I kiss her. Her lips are soft against mine…and muddy. Other runners skirt around us, giving us weird stares.
The realization that I’m falling for Ivy hits me hard. I’m at a loss to know what to do, because I’ve never felt this way before. It’s uncharted territory, and I’m afraid I’m going to screw things up like I always do. Reluctantly, I break the kiss and we get up.
Ivy has a strange expression on her face.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“Jon. Your flag. It
’s gone.”
I glance down. She’s right. There’s just an empty race belt around my waist. I look at her muddy tutu. “So are yours.”
She spins around. “Did we lose them in the mud?”
“I don’t know.”
We spend the next few minutes sloshing around in the mud pit looking for our flags, but we can’t find them.
I grab her hand and lead her out of the mud. Zombies are waiting for us, but they leave us alone when they see our flags are gone. We’re one of them now.
“I always knew you were too perfect to be completely human,” I tell her.
“And I always knew there was something wild inside you.”
chapter eighteen
dream [noun]: a cherished hope; ambition; aspiration
Jon
The next few weeks fly by with midterms, study sessions, work and the occasional party. Why is it that when you’re doing something boring, time slows to a crawl and every passing minute is an eternity, but when you’re enjoying yourself and having a good time, it feels like it’s over before it really even starts?
As much as I love having Ivy here in the White House, I know she can’t stay here indefinitely. Cassidy’s already moved back to the dorm and Ivy’s stayed there a few times. But almost every day, I’m dreaming up some new excuse why she needs to spend the night with me, and they’re getting more and more ridiculous.
The other day, it was because I needed her help on a photography assignment. I’d already finished it, but I didn’t tell her that.
And today—don’t laugh—I got her to stay because of a bee sting. Although I really did get stung on my forearm this afternoon, it didn’t hurt that much. I just said it did to get her sympathy. And it worked. She applied a paste of baking soda and water, then kept me well supplied with ice packs so it didn’t swell. I probably didn’t have to use the bee sting excuse, because we’ve got people coming over to watch a movie tonight, so she’d be here late anyway.
“How’s the swelling, babe?” Ivy comes out of the kitchen holding a bowl of popcorn and another ice pack.
“Better, I think.”
“Oh good.”
The front door bangs open and footsteps pound through the entryway to where we’re gathered in the family room. Tate and James are holding two cases of beer and several bags of chips.
“What’s that fucking awesome smell?” James asks.
Cassidy comes out of the kitchen holding a heaping plate of brownies. “Is this what you’re smelling?”
“Fuck, yeah.” He grabs one and stuffs it in his mouth, then he grabs another. “Do you think someone’s started a Fuck Yeah Brownies Tumblr yet? Or maybe just Fuck Yeah Chocolate. Because if not, you totally should. These are that good.”
She laughs. “Thanks.”
The doorbell rings. It’s one of those sing-song chimes that you hear at old people’s houses. No one uses it much, but when they do, it strikes me as funny because a bunch of college guys live here now.
“Come in,” Rick yells, and a moment later Kelly and Reese step into the room.
I remove the ice pack from my arm. It’s easier being a wimp in front of my girlfriend than my buddies.
Reese grabs a beer. “So we’re watching Terminator? Which one?”
I grab a handful of popcorn. “The second one. It’s still playing on PSU Net and Ivy has never seen it.”
Reese holds his hand out to Kelly. “Come with me if you want to live,” he says, quoting a line from the movie.
“Wait, wait,” she says laughing. She lies on the floor and dons a panicked expression as she looks up at him. “Okay, say it again.”
He repeats the line and reaches down.
Warily, she takes his hand, and he pulls her to her feet. Everyone claps.
“Shut up, asshole,” Tate says in a monotone voice.
Everyone turns to look at him.
“What?” he says, eyes wide. “It’s a line from the movie. Don’t you remember?”
“Are you sure?” Rick glares at him.
“Yes, it’s when Arnold—” Tate throws up his hands. “No one ever believes me around here. Just wait. You’ll see.”
Ivy and I are cuddled up on the recliner together. James, Cassidy, and Tate are on the couch. Rick is in the other chair, while Kelly and Reese are in the giant beanbag with a blanket.
As the opening credits roll, Ivy shifts slightly. “I’m not really an Arnold fan. Not since he cheated on his wife.”
“Yeah, that sucked, but aren’t you supposed to separate the art from the artist?”
“Some things you just don’t screw up. If we were talking about my next-door neighbor, I’d say the same thing.”
“He’s an actor. All celebrities have fucked-up lives.” Trust me.
“I don’t care. It still makes me mad.”
I read once that some men are hard-wired to be cheaters. That it’s in our DNA. I know that’s probably a bunch of crap dreamed up by guys who cheat to help them justify their behavior, but what if it’s not? What if it is a legitimate Darwinian tendency, passed down from father to son?
She takes a drink of her beer. “Does this mean I’m slipping on the movie slash likeability scale?”
“Good thing you have other redeeming qualities that make up for it.”
She pokes me in the ribs.
“Ouch. Remember my bee sting.”
“You got stung in the arm.”
“Yeah, I know, but you might jostle it.”
The movie starts and we all settle in. When we get to the part where the kid is being chased by the semi truck, there’s a knock at the door. Pounding, actually.
“I’ll get it.”
I untangle myself from Ivy’s legs, walk to the front of the house, and open the door.
On the covered porch is a young woman, her face streaming with blood.
* * *
Ivy
The girl’s name is Leesa. Cassidy and I are standing on either side of her, holding her up. We tried to get her to sit, but she refused. Jon and James are hovering over her boyfriend, Mark, who’s lying out on the lawn. A wrecked blue car is in the ditch. Kelly is on the phone with the 9-1-1 operator.
“It happened so fast,” Leesa sobs. “We got out and then he just collapsed.”
“An ambulance is on its way,” Kelly says, phone to her ear.
“Is there someone we can call?” I ask Leesa. “Your parents?”
“I’m visiting from out of town. They’re in Seattle.” She’s shaking so hard, I can hear her teeth rattling.
I run inside, grab a blanket from the couch, then run back out to the front porch and wrap it around Leesa’s shoulders.
“Someone get me a towel,” Jon yells in our direction.
I spin on my heel and dash back into the house. Please let there be clean towels in the downstairs bathroom. I open the first two drawers. Nothing. The bottom drawer has a few folded washcloths. Good enough. Ignoring the dull ache forming at the base of my skull, I grab them and sprint out to the front lawn. The guy lies there, motionless. I think Jon is talking to me, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. Like a robot, I hand him the towels and back away.
Cassidy is telling Leesa that her boyfriend is going to be okay, but I’m not so sure about that. It looks pretty bad to me. There’s blood everywhere, and a chunk of metal is sticking out of his chest. When you hit a tree going that fast, people die.
Hold on. I blink a few times and look around.
They didn’t hit a tree. They ran off the road into a ditch in front of Jon’s house. There’s blood, but not a lot.
About a dozen people have gathered out on the road. The siren is loud now.
“Over here,” Rick yells at the ambulance as it turns down the street.
Soon two EMTs are working on Mark, and Jon is explaining what happened to a third guy. He gestures with his hands and the man nods like he understands everything. I watch everything like it’s unfolding on a movie screen, as if it’s happening else
where, in another place and time.
After the ambulance takes Mark and Leesa to the hospital and the crowd disperses, everyone else turns to go back into the house. Jon and I are sitting on the porch steps, our arms around each other.
I hear the door open behind us, then someone puts a blanket around our shoulders.
“Thanks, bro,” Jon says, taking the bottle of water that James hands him.
Without a word, James turns and goes back inside.
Jon opens the bottle and hands it to me. I take a drink. Then another one. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was. I hand it back to him, pulling the blanket tighter around our shoulders.
Neither of us is saying anything. We’re just staring out at the wrecked car and the now-empty front lawn. I think we’re both still in shock.
“Do you think Mark is going to be okay?” I ask.
“I hope so,” he says, hugging me a little tighter. “How about you? Doing okay?”
I’m touched by his concern. With everything that just happened, he’s thinking about me. “I’m okay.” I don’t need to tell him about my headache. It’s a little better now, anyway. I think the water helped. “How about you?”
“I’m good.”
As I look at the wrecked car, uneasiness stirs inside me. “Her phone is in there. She needs her phone.”
She’ll want to call someone, hear a familiar voice, but she can’t. She can’t move. She’s scared and nothing she does seems to help. She’s a doll and strangers are moving her arms and legs.
“I’m sure the police will make sure she gets it,” Jon says. “A tow truck should be here soon.”
I blink, unsure of what just happened. Was that a memory from my accident?
“No,” I tell him. “They won’t. She needs her things. She’ll be lost without them.”
Jon doesn’t argue with me, just nods his head and retrieves Leesa’s purse from the car.
The double doors at College View Memorial Hospital whoosh open and we step into the emergency room waiting area. Even though it’s a Sunday night, the place is busy. Patients who are waiting to be seen, along with their friends and families, take up almost all the empty seats. People in blue scrubs are everywhere, manning the check-in desks, walking down the halls, carrying clipboards, pushing patients in wheelchairs. Announcements blare over the intercom. We scan the waiting area for Leesa but don’t see her.