Smiling, I pulled my hand out of his grasp and finished tucking the blanket around him.
“Maybe in a bit.” Definitely not a good idea.
Date: December 13, 11:25 AM
From: Zoe Cartwright
To: Danielle O’Connor
Subject: Headed for Colorado
Hey D,
I’m so glad you’re alive and that Jason’s with you. I don’t want to even consider what would’ve happened if he hadn’t made it there in time. He miraculously got through to me on my cell. You were in the bathtub with Chris (which makes so much more sense now that I know Chris is a she). It sounds like you were in really bad shape. Thank God you’re okay.
Dave’s here—he showed up a few days ago with his dog, Sammy. I feel better having him here because things are starting to get crazy around Salem…like really scary. We’ve heard two gunshots in the last 24 hours, and last night we watched a group of looters running through the street and lighting things on fire. Obviously there are survivors, but most of them are just crazy. Other than Dave’s Louisville Slugger and my Maglite, we have no weapons, so I’m ready to get the hell out of here. I’m wishing Jason would’ve taught me a thing or two so I’d have some idea how to defend myself, but when all else fails, go for the groin, right? Let’s hope no one gets close enough to have to worry about that.
Dave heard a radio broadcast about a colony in Colorado. They have food and supplies and are encouraging survivors to head that way. I wonder if it’s the same place we’re going? Anyway, Peterson is a few days’ worth of driving away, so we’ll have to stop once or twice to rest along the way, but we’ll be there as soon as we can.
Will you make sure Jason keeps me posted on Dad when you get home? I want to know what you find, no matter how bad it is. Miss you!
Hasta la vista,
Zoe
7
DANI
I gripped the doorknob and, not knowing what to expect inside the bedroom, felt my palm slicken with sweat. Questions circled in my mind like crazed vultures. Will it smell like Cam? Will it smell like death? Will it smell like rotting meat? Has he been decomposing over the past five days, melting into our bed? What will he look like?
Turning my wrist, I let the door creak open. I instantly focused on the bed—the empty bed. I stood in the doorway for a few minutes, staring dumbly as my mind reconciled the placid, blank scene with the horrors I’d imagined. Where is he?
“Get it together, Dani,” I mumbled. I was in the damn room for two reasons: to pack and to say goodbye. Cam might not have been there to do the latter, but I could still gather some things together.
I forced myself into motion, gliding around the room to collect certain indispensable belongings: clothes, cell phone, journal, small photo album. I tossed the priceless items on the exposed mattress, and when I added Zoe’s recent birthday present—a beautifully sketched depiction of a man in a chef’s coat kissing the hand of a seated, curly-haired woman—I nearly collapsed into tears. She had perfectly captured the first time Cam and I had met. The only thing preventing a torrential emotional flood was the violent anger simmering in my blood. Where the hell is Cam?
Obviously Jason had moved Cam’s body, and he’d done it without telling me…without letting me say goodbye. Fury boiled within me as I snatched a duffel bag out of the closet. Dammit, Jason! I shoved everything into the bag, clothes and mementos alike, and hastily zipped it shut. You had no right!
With a grunt, I dragged the deformed bag into the hallway, slamming the bedroom door behind me. Seething, I stalked around the rest of the two-bedroom apartment in search of Jason. There weren’t many places to look. I’d barely seen him since the day he’d arrived, so I wasn’t surprised to find him absent.
Jack whined and scratched at the front door, capturing my attention. Where’s Jason? Next door?
In a flash, I passed through the doorway, sprinted down the hall, and burst into the nearest neighboring apartment. Four men, each decked in tan and gray-green camouflage fatigues, rose from their seats at an oblong table and pointed guns in my direction.
I barely noticed and hardly cared. “Jason,” I hissed, “where’s Jason?” Jack augmented the question with a menacing growl.
All but one gun was lowered; the remaining aimed at Jack by a youthful, brown-haired man. “Should’ve killed the mangy fuck when he went after Cece,” he proclaimed, clicking the safety back in place.
The only one of the men I’d previously met, Ky, nodded toward the bedrooms down the hallway, and one of the others bellowed, “JASON!”
Seconds later, the farthest bedroom door banged open, expelling an irritated, shirtless Jason. He pulled a gray t-shirt over his head, and sounding completely annoyed, said, “I thought I told you dumbshits to leave us…ah…alone.” His voice softened when he noticed me. “Dani? What’s wrong?”
Behind him, a small, voluptuous woman emerged from the same doorway. A smirk danced across her exotic face as she sauntered toward me, her dark, disheveled hair swaying with each step.
“You must be Dani. I’m Cecilia, but everyone calls me Cece.” Her warm tone competed with the icy chill in her eyes. “Jason and I were just—”
“A pleasure,” I interrupted and brushed past her. Had I been a cat, my tail would’ve been lashing.
As I neared Jason, he stiffly stood in place, his expression blank.
Stopping within arm’s reach, I asked—my words thick with venom—“Where’s Cam?”
Jason answered without hesitation. “We moved his body out. While you were getting cleaned up.” He watched me cautiously, like I was an injured animal. But I wasn’t hurt; I was pissed.
My mind snapped back to our conversation three days earlier, to my confusion at his abrupt change of subject. This is what he was going to tell me—that he’d disposed of Cam’s body without my permission…
“You should’ve asked. You should’ve told me,” I said through gritted teeth and swung my arm without thinking.
Jason’s eyes closed as my hand smacked against his clenched jaw. When they reopened, his eyes glowed with fierce determination. “You shouldn’t have to remember him like that. If we’d left him in there for three more days…”
He’s right, dammit! I thought, recalling the horrifying images I’d imagined. But I was still furious. He should’ve asked! I tried to ignore the small, bitter part of me that knew my rage should’ve been directed inward. I should have been with Cam when he died. He asked me to stay with him.
The world around us seemed to fade out of existence as Jason and I stared at each other. His aquamarine eyes pulled me in, their fierce intensity refusing to release me. That he had the audacity to stand before me with those stunning eyes—set in that achingly handsome face—only fueled my anger. My pulse sped, breath coming faster, and I knew we were building to something unforgivable.
I breathed in and opened my mouth. “You—”
“Dani?” Chris asked, penetrating the haze of my fury. Her arm wrapped protectively around my narrow shoulders. “Let’s get you some breakfast before we leave, hmm?” She turned me away from Jason, breaking our eye contact along with the building tension, and guided me back toward the front door.
With each step, my anger dissipated and reason returned. As Chris walked me through the apartment’s entrance, I looked back at Jason, my chin trembling and eyes pleading for forgiveness.
He closed his eyes and bowed his head.
The door swung shut.
Date: December 14, 8:30 AM
From: Danielle O’Connor
To: Zoe Cartwright
Subject: The Plan
Zo,
I’m just about to leave my apartment, possibly forever. I wonder if leaving this place will help heal the gaping wound in my heart. Or will I forget bits and pieces of Cam, little by little, until I only have the barest memory? I just hope something changes. This feeling is unbearable.
We’re not actually setting out on our grand (note the sarcasm) jour
ney into the changed (shitty) world yet. We still have to gather a ton of supplies. The group has cleaned out a bunch of the packaged and canned foods from the apartments in my building, but there are other things we’ll need. This place is starting to reek—everyone who lived here is dead or gone. How is that even possible?
There’s another big problem—all of the gas stations are out of fuel. One team spent the entire day yesterday in a “borrowed” car checking gas stations all over Seattle. They were all dry. It’s like people hung on long enough to use up all the fuel before they keeled over. Dicks. We have some fuel cans which we’re filling with gas siphoned from nearby cars, but we can only carry so much. Is the fuel situation the same over there?
In a moment of sheer genius I convinced Jason it would be worth it to stock up on camping supplies. I mean, if we get stranded in the middle of nowhere, that stuff will be super useful. So, we’re spending the morning at that huge REI in downtown Seattle—the one you dragged me to last summer. That’s where we’re going when we leave in...crap...five minutes.
I’m so freaking glad that Dave is with you and that you’re leaving Salem; I don’t like the sound of all the crazy people in your neighborhood. Maybe you guys should get some guns or something? Maybe not...might be more dangerous with them? Dunno...your call.
Please, please, please update me as often as you can. I’ll do the same. Okay, I have to go...your brother is staring at me. Oh, and he says…hey.
Ciao,
Dani
Unsurprisingly, REI’s doors had been locked. Surprisingly, none of the glass panes had been broken. I figured Survivors were either moaning in their beds or still in the “let’s steal from grocery stores and shopping malls” stage of the Apocalypse. Recreational equipment must not have registered as a high priority. People are idiots, I thought caustically, but then I smiled. One woman’s forsaken water filter is another’s salvation!
“Everyone needs to pair up,” Jason directed from the slightly raised platform in the entryway. When nobody moved he barked, “Now!”
Chris sidled up to me, and I watched Cece prowl across the polished cement like a fox. Her eyes were locked on Jason. He didn’t notice her approach, focused as he was on making sure everyone found a partner. When I felt his attention linger on me, I ignored him, instead studying the small, tanned beauty.
Reaching Jason, Cece beckoned, and he leaned down to let her whisper in his ear. His lips parted at her words, and his eyes narrowed with what looked like anticipation. I figured she must have suggested something particularly scandalous.
When his eyes slid to mine, catching me staring, I hastily scanned the rest of the store, pretending to assess its offerings. From the heat in my cheeks, I knew I had blushed bright red.
After confirming that everyone had paired off, Jason continued, “Alright, here’s the plan. Each of you needs to collect everything you’d need if you were on your own. Except for Dani, you’ve all had survival training—if you don’t know what you need, you’re a fucking idiot. Reconvene here in one hour, and do not leave your partner alone.” As an afterthought he added, “Keep your weapons ready. We don’t know who else might be here.”
As he finished, my mind replayed his whispered exchange with the skank. What did she say to him? Let’s do it in a fitting room? Or the bathroom? Or maybe behind the checkout counter? Jason obviously hasn’t changed, I thought bitterly.
The disgusting possibilities swirled through my head as Chris and I found large hiking packs, sleeping bags and tents. The thoughts receded as we filled our new packs with miniscule stoves and gas cans, water filters, matches, lighters, handheld GPS equipment, knives, and whatever else Chris deemed necessary for survival. When we couldn’t squeeze anything else into the bags’ bulging pockets, we dropped them off in the entryway.
Grabbing a couple of large, waterproof sacks, we headed to the clothing and shoe section. Now this is more like it!
We had stuffed both huge bags to the brim and were heading back to the entrance when a nearby rack of key chains fell over.
Laughing, Chris teased, “Wow…walk much?” We watched, waiting for one of our companions to pop up looking amused or embarrassed. But nothing happened.
Chris drew her handgun from her thigh holster and slipped me a black-bladed combat knife.
I raised my eyebrows in a silent question. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?
Ignoring my expression, Chris held her index finger up to her lips and motioned for me to follow. A rustle and jingle led us to the man tangled in the fallen merchandise. He was small and stinky, wearing a forest-green t-shirt with the store’s logo.
“Don’t hurt me. I’m not here. Don’t hurt me. I’m not here,” he repeated over and over. I half expected him to start scuttling around, hissing about his Precious.
“Are you okay?” I asked, slipping in front of Chris to crouch down near the terrified man. I was careful to keep the wicked-looking knife hidden behind my back, worried it would scare him further. He was so pathetic, yanking every compassionate string in my body.
He stopped talking.
Encouraged, I reassured him, “We won’t hurt you.” But when I reached out to help untangle his ankle, he flinched.
He scooted himself and the clanking rack back, and resumed his earlier mantra. “Don’t hurt me. I’m not here. Don’t hurt me. I’m not here…”
Chris hoisted me up by my arm and pulled me away from the clearly unstable man. “We can’t do anything for him,” she told me gently.
“But—”
“No, hon, I’m sorry. Something’s broken in him that can’t be fixed.”
Ashamed at how quickly I agreed, I followed her back to the store’s entrance, dragging my sack of clothes and shoes behind me.
Date: December 14, 9:00 PM
From: Danielle O’Connor
To: Zoe Cartwright
Subject: Longview, WA
Zo,
So, I can’t remember if I told you this already, but we’re stopping several places along the way to BB. I don’t know why we can’t just drop people off and continue on home. This is ridiculous. I need to get down there to check on Grams and your dad. Oh, don’t worry; I’ve argued plenty with Jason about this. I didn’t win.
For everyone in the group, we’re devoting one full day to searching their chosen stop for survivors. Jason told me this was non-negotiable. He can be such an ass.
Anyway, we’re currently in Longview, WA, which is only a few hours south of Seattle. We’ve traveled really far, huh? Yeah, I totally just rolled my eyes. We’re here for Joey, BTW. He’s one of those people who would make a perfect thief or assassin because he is just so unremarkable. Anyway, he’s hoping to find I-don’t-know-who here. We’re spending all of tomorrow searching.
Our chosen Longview “home” is a gigantic riverfront house that looks more suited to a stormy ocean bluff in New England than a West Coast river. Internet and power are a few of its prized offerings. Also, the house is large enough that only a few people (there are 14 of us) have to share rooms, like me and Chris. The master bedroom, however, remains unoccupied. A couple of the guys found the house’s previous occupants in their king-sized bed, bloated and oozing. I guess it was pretty gross (like spontaneous vomit gross). If I hadn’t been sleeping in a building full of dead people for the past week, I’d be bothered by the idea of sharing a roof with the deceased Mr. and Mrs. Whoever. But I’m not. I’m just tired.
Surprisingly, we haven’t seen that many living people. I guess Chris was right when she told me pretty much everyone was dead. But, I suppose the other survivors could be hiding. You know what’s weird? I think I’ve been so lost in my grief over Cam that I haven’t really paid attention to the fact that the world pretty much ended. It’s like an unending nightmare. I keep waiting to wake up.
Alright, Zo, I promised Chris she could use my comp before bed. Let me know where you are as soon as you can. I worry about you all the time. So does Jason, even if he won’t s
ay it out loud.
Ciao,
Dani
8
ZOE
The air hummed with apprehension. From inside the truck, Sarah and I watched Dave’s third attempt to refuel. I crossed my fingers. Please work.
Nothing seemed to be happening.
The seconds felt like minutes until finally Dave knocked on the driver’s side window and gave us a thumbs up. Relieved, I smiled.
Opening the door, I felt the brisk air sting my face. I pulled my hood up over my ears and zipped my jacket as far as it would go. Looking around apprehensively, I made my way toward the convenience store in hopes of finding a bathroom. The vacant world around me was eerily silent. All I could hear was the creaking of a giant wooden billboard being assaulted by the wind.
How long has it been since anyone was here? Through the dark windows I saw a bathroom sign that looked promising, but I couldn’t bring myself to enter. I wonder if it’s safe…
As I stood outside of the store, I noticed a newspaper box still filled with papers. I leaned closer. The headline read, BILLIONS DEAD, and the paper was dated December 9, right before everything had started to shut down.
I inserted a quarter and snatched out a paper. Scanning its contents, my mouth grew dry and my body stiffened.
…the H1N1/12 pandemic…
…looting and riotous outbreaks everywhere…
…end of civilization as we know it…
…survivors losing their minds…
…governments can’t control…
…the Apocalypse…
The newspaper slipped from between my fingers. Frozen in place, I was suffocated by the reality of our situation.
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