Before the apocalypse, they had been buddies and they still were now. Before the end of the world, they had been friends. Torrance wished she had someone like that, anyone.
The only thing Torrance had was an office to hide in and a desk to cry under.
It was no way to live, really, but that’s how she was living.
It had been days since her reason for breathing was stolen from her, days since her little boy was killed, days since she’d felt her heart harden.
Still, she couldn’t be mean to Kyle. She wanted to. How was it fair that he was still breathing when Brandon was dead? How was it fair that he was living here when her little boy was rotting away? How was it fair that she hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to her kid, but this guy got to have fun in the apocalypse with his friend?
This guy got to walk around in his boxers at the end of the world and she got to miss her child.
It wasn’t fucking fair.
It also wasn’t Kyle’s fault, and Torrance had done enough thinking over the last few days to realize that.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault.
She didn’t believe there was some evil scientist sitting in a laboratory somewhere. She didn’t think this was because people got a bad batch of the flu vaccine. She didn’t think it was because the world was being punished.
It was a fluke.
Nothing this terrible could happen on purpose.
“How are you feeling?” She asked Kyle. Color was slowly coming back to his face, and he had finally sat back up.
“Better. Thank you. I can’t believe you found it.”
“It was right where you said it was.”
“There were multiple backpacks,” he murmured.
“Only one of them had KYLE written in black sharpie on the top.”
“I forgot about that.”
“It probably saved your life, big boy. Nice job.”
“My mom always told me to write my name on stuff. I had a lot of brothers and sisters growing up, so it was the only way we could keep things straight.”
“Had?”
“I don’t know what their current status is.”
“You mean dead or alive.”
“I mean dead or alive.”
“Sorry.”
He just shrugged and looked around.
“What’s there to say?” He asked. “Nothing, really. This is just how things are now, you know?”
“Yeah,” she said with a dark laugh. A somber laugh. “I fucking know.”
“So what’s your story, Torrance?” Kyle asked. “I told you mine,” he added when she glared at him. “It’s only fair.”
“Fair’s fair, I suppose, but let’s go somewhere more comfortable.”
“What did you have in mind?”
She took his hand and pulled him to his feet. Kyle looked at his hand in hers and raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t over-think it. I just don’t want to lose you.”
She led him to the big staircase and up to the second floor.
“Lots of space here. You live here?”
“I live in one of the offices,” she pointed to the door. “Before the infection hit, this place was booming. It has all the main county offices. If you ever wished you could visit the DMV without a line, this is your chance.” She pointed to one of the glass doors that clearly said “DMV” on the front.
“That’s all right. I think I’m good for now.”
“Suit yourself.” The main area on the second floor was open with benches that made up a little waiting area. The wall directly across from the stairs hosted the DMV and the wall to the right held the office where Torrance had been staying: the county clerk’s office. The left wall was a combination of the treasurer’s office and the veteran’s affairs office. On either side of the staircase were restrooms.
There was still running water in the building.
“This way,” Torrance pointed to a little hallway between the veteran’s affairs office and the DMV. He followed her quickly and she was happy he was keeping up. He was feeling better if he was walking quickly.
At the end of the hall was a door, which Torrance pushed open.
“Here we go,” she said.
Kyle smiled.
“Much better,” he agreed.
Chapter 9
Alice punched the zombie.
She punched it in the damn face.
“Hurry up and die!” She screamed.
“That’s not helping,” she heard Mark grunt. She wished he would shoot the fuckers, but she knew he couldn’t get a clear shot. He wanted to kill them, not maim her.
There were two on top of her and she was doing her best to keep them away, but they had already scratched her. She hoped their nails hadn’t broken her skin.
She’d be infected if that happened, right?
She’d turn into one of the monsters.
Alice wasn’t ready to die. She had been, just a few hours ago. She’d been ready to see her little brother and hang out with him again. She’d been ready to say goodbye to the cruel environment she was living in now. She was ready to quit.
Then Mark had happened.
Then Mark had happened and he’d reminded her without any words at all what it felt like to be a woman.
He’d reminded her why the sun kept rising every morning.
He’d reminded her why the stars shone so brightly.
She didn’t like the idea that this good, amazing thing had happened between them and now she was going to die from a zombie attack. She hated it. She hated knowing that once again, they had been so close to hope, but they’d lost it. They’d lost their hope.
The Infected growled as they pushed their bodies against her. Alice tried to wiggle away from beneath them and managed to get out of the line of fire. Mark nailed one on the head with a shovel and the fucker immediately stopped moving.
“Nice shot,” she cried, reaching for something to hit the other one with. Her hand closed around something hard and heavy. She could barely lift it, but she had to try. She swung it without looking at it and was pleased when the Infected was knocked away. It kept moving, though. She hadn’t killed the creature. Alice glanced at the weapon in her hand.
“You can kill a zombie with a crowbar, but you can’t take one out with a sledgehammer?” Mark asked. He was hitting the other two in the head, making sure they were really dead.
“It was a bad shot.” Alice got to her feet and lifted the hammer once more. This time, she brought it down right on the fucker’s head and heard his skull split open with a satisfying crack.
She had done it.
They had done it.
They had survived.
“Three down,” she said, glancing at the open door to the house. Did they dare bother going inside? After all of this work, she felt like they owed it to themselves to wander inside. They owed it to themselves to have a little bit of fun. After all that work, she wanted a fucking beer and maybe a joint, if they could ever get lucky and find one.
“I’m tired,” Mark said.
“I don’t know if I can fight any more,” Alice agreed. Her arms hurt. Her body was sore. Her arms were covered in scratches and that worried her. “I need to find some peroxide, though.” She motioned to her arms.
“Don’t want to take any chances,” he murmured, looking at her cuts. Mark looked concerned and that made Alice a little more worried. What if they were deeper than they looked? She didn’t think the monsters had gotten their saliva on her, but maybe they had and she’d been too busy fighting to notice.
The fear propelled her into the house and she hurried inside. Alice looked around anxiously, trying to check for zombies while simultaneously looking for the bathroom. That’s where people kept peroxide. It would be under the bathroom sink.
She thought.
She hoped.
“I’ll clear the house,” Mark said. “Just take care of yourself.”
“Yeah,” Alice said. She spotted the bathroom beside the kitchen and hur
ried inside. She closed the door behind her. She didn’t like the idea of anything sneaking up on her and she wanted to focus quickly on getting this taken care of.
In the bottom bathroom drawer she found hydrogen peroxide and she poured it on her cuts. She shouldn’t have poured it because the fucking liquid stung. Her skin bubbled and turned white.
It was working, getting the dirt out, clearing out her chances of dying from this stupid virus.
It was giving her a chance.
That was all she could ask for, really: a chance.
And damn, Alice needed one.
This whole week had been so hellish. She just wanted a break. She thought that’s what the library was going to be. She thought it was going to be her chance at getting a break, a reprieve.
Alice was tired.
She heard Mark walking around, but he didn’t yell or making any noise, really, so she figured they’d killed all of the inhabitants.
Suddenly, she realized she didn’t have to be quiet anymore.
She didn’t have to be strong anymore.
She didn’t have to be anything anymore.
And as she pulled her legs to her chest in the tiny little bathroom, Alice began to cry. She didn’t know what else to do, how else to express herself, how else to deal with the fact that this really was it.
This was their future.
After a couple of minutes, she stopped and stood. She wiped her eyes and turned on the sink. Water poured out and she splashed some on her face. She stared at herself in the mirror for a minute, then she realized what she’d just done.
Water.
There was water.
She didn’t waste any more time feeling sorry for herself. She didn’t care if the water was icy or the shower was small or if the bathroom was a little bit moldy.
There was running water in this house and Alice intended to get her fill.
“Mark!” She called out. She hurried and stripped out of her clothes. She folded them and placed them on the counter. “There’s running water!”
She didn’t wait another minute.
She turned on the showerhead and climbed on in.
Chapter 10
Mark heard Alice call out and he heard the shower start. He chuckled as he continued looking around the modest little house. She was going to love her shower. He knew that. Though he was tempted to join her, he was curious.
The house seemed to be clear. No more zombies. No more dead people. No more unwanted residents or company. No, he was all on his own now and Mark liked it that way. He didn’t like surprises. He didn’t like being caught off guard.
This whole fucking week he’d been caught off guard.
Now it was time for something new.
The house itself was in fairly good condition. The construction looked new, or perhaps it had just been recently remodeled. There were two bedrooms and another bathroom. There was a locked door he supposed led to a basement, but he didn’t try to push his way down there. They weren’t going to move in. Besides, he didn’t have a flashlight.
Mark walked around the kitchen and checked for any food in the cupboards. There was quite a selection, which was a little surprising. The fridge was clean and without anything rotting or stale. He grabbed a soda from the top shelf and popped the top.
It was good.
He leaned against the counter and sipped his drink as he took a look around the cozy little house. It really wasn’t a bad place, he thought. Despite the fact there had been zombies inside, the house didn’t stink very much.
Mark popped a window open, anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to let in a light breeze. He lit a candle, too, and that seemed to quickly clear out the last of the lingering zombie scent.
He thought the Infected had been loitering in the kitchen and living room, mostly. There was a little bit of mud on the carpet, but there wasn’t any blood. If he was honest with himself, he thought it was a bit strange just how little mess they’d made.
He shouldn’t over-think it.
He shouldn’t.
It was weird, though, and Mark couldn’t shake the feeling he was missing something. Why were the undead in this house so clean? Why was everything pristine? Why hadn’t they made more of a mess? If they’d been infected at the same time as everyone else, they should have torn the house up.
It only made sense.
He sipped his soda as he considered it. The undead were messy and gross and nasty.
Why wasn’t the house messy?
Suddenly, it hit him, and he realized what an idiot he was. He’d been giving himself mad shit about being unprepared for the zombie attack them they opened the door to the house, but this was even worse.
There was a reason the zombies hadn’t made a mess in the house.
They weren’t the only ones there.
He set the soda down on the counter just as he heard the door unlock. The door he hadn’t gone through: the door he hadn’t checked. There was a reason it had been locked. There was a reason, and he was stupid for not realizing someone else was living in this house.
Quickly, he tried to remember what kind of people were laying dead on the garage floor. Three. There had been three. There was an older man and two teenagers, right? Two boys. Maybe they were in their 20s. Maybe they were in college.
Yeah, it had been three men.
That meant the last person would be…
“The mother,” he whispered as the door opened. He pulled his gun out and held it evenly. He aimed for the door, waiting.
Sure enough, a woman stepped out holding her own weapon. The .22 hornet pistol glistened in the sunlight. Her arm was steady.
“You’re in my house,” she said with a glare. Mark held his own gun steady. She was going to be worried, he knew. She was going to be surprised, only she wasn’t as surprised as he thought she should have been.
“I didn’t know anyone was living here,” Mark said, remaining calm. He kept his voice even, steady. He didn’t want to scare or frighten her. He didn’t want her to get crazy or upset. He didn’t want her to freak out.
“You’re in my house,” she repeated, and she cocked her pistol.
She was going to shoot him.
He saw it in her eyes.
He’d seen that look before. It was the look a hunter got as he prepared to go in for the kill. It was the look an alcoholic father got before he beat his child. It was the look a soldier got before he took out one of the enemy.
She was going to kill him.
Mark didn’t want to do it, but he didn’t have a choice. He knew in that moment it was kill or be killed. He couldn’t dive out of the way. He couldn’t rush her. He couldn’t do anything but pull the trigger first and pray that if there was a god, she forgave him.
He prayed.
Mark had been a shitty husband, but he’d been a damn good soldier. He’d been a fine marksman. He’d been good at so many things that he really shouldn’t be so hard on himself for the areas he fell short.
He had redeeming qualities.
He had things about him that were good.
He pulled the trigger.
This might not be one of them. This might not be a good thing. This might not be a redeeming quality. This might not be something he should be doing. It was something he probably shouldn’t be doing.
But Alice was in the other room.
Alice was in the shower and if Mark didn’t shoot this woman, the woman would shoot Alice. Mark couldn’t let that happen. He just couldn’t.
Alice was no longer just some woman he knew.
She was no longer just the girl from his apartment building.
She was no longer just the chick he went drinking with on the weekends.
His bullet hit its mark.
The woman crashed to the floor and Mark stared at her for a second. It had been a clean headshot. It had been clean and good and he’d gotten her on the first shot.
He walked over to the woman. He was careful not to step in the blood pooling around her
head. He was careful not to look at her open eyes or her shocked expression. He was careful as he pried the .22 from her fingers.
Her hands were still warm.
Mark felt like he was going to throw up. It had been a long time since he’d killed a human. He was definitely going to throw up.
“Oh, hey,” he heard Alice’s voice and he turned, mentally shoving down his vomit. “You found another one. Looks like you got it, though.”
Mark looked back at the woman. He couldn’t tell Alice. She wouldn’t be able to handle the truth. She wouldn’t be able to handle knowing he’d killed a human. She wouldn’t be able to handle the reality that sometimes, there were bad people.
Alice had been through enough.
Mark thought that if he told Alice the truth, she would stop looking at him like he was the only fucking man in the world.
She would stop looking at him like he was a savior.
She would stop looking at him like he was a hero.
“Yeah,” he said. “I got it.”
Chapter 11
Kyle stepped onto the balcony with Torrance. It was beautiful, really. Somehow, in the midst of the death and the decay, she’d managed to find a little piece of beauty.
“What is this?” He asked.
“It’s Raven Lake,” she told him. They leaned on the balcony and looked out at the forest and the lake that glistened in the sun. “It’s got the best fishing around. Hard to go hungry in the apocalypse when you’ve got a fishing pole and access to the best lake in the county.”
“You fish?”
“Fish, hunt, trap. I can do anything.”
“A true country girl, I see.”
“Does this impress you?”
“Are you flirting with me?”
“A little,” she said, and Kyle smiled. It had been a long time since a girl was playful with him. He liked it.
Torrance was different than he expected her to be. She was fun. Interesting. She caught him off-guard in little ways, like in showing him her secret balcony.
“You come out here a lot,” he said.
Just Another Day in the Zombie Apocalypse (Episode 4) Page 4