by C. M. Wright
Alright. I'm done with this subject. Moving on...
Things are going good on the highway, so I'm stupidly lulled into a false sense of security, until I see a flash of light to my left. Realizing when the second flash goes off that it's lightning, I roll my eyes. Great. Just what we need.
After a few more miles, fat drops of rain beat onto the windshield. A little further, it turns into a hard downpour. I turn the windshield wipers on full blast, but they barely help, and I'm forced to slow even less than the forty miles-per-hour I was comfortable with before.
Damn rain! Damn cars everywhere! Damn zombies! Damn people who started this shit!
A very loud clap of thunder makes me jump, which wakes Will. He sits up and looks around.
"Damn, Honey. It's nasty out there."
No! Really?
I give Will a quick glance and a tight smile. Both hands clenching the wheel, I struggle to see in front of us.
"Yep. How you feelin', Babe?" I ask him.
"Better. Just wish I could take a shower." Oh, how I wish you could, too!
But I'm still so thankful he's alive and back with me that it really doesn't matter how bad he smells. What matters is he's actually alive. At this moment, I need him as close as possible to me. I need to feel him to know for sure he's really here.
"Get over here and touch me," I tell him, stealing the line he always says when he needs me close. He scoots closer to me and lays his hand on my leg. I want more than that but this will have to do, for now.
I hear movement from the back and then Bianca's face reflects in the rearview mirror. She tells me she has to use the restroom and Will says he does, too. Personally, I've had to go for quite awhile now and this damn rain isn't helping any. I tell them we will stop in the next town if it's not too full of the undead. They agree that they can wait and then Will turns sideways in the seat so he can see Bianca after I ask her to tell us her story.
She says she had been very sick the last week-which Will and I knew-and had stayed in bed, sleeping right through the beginning of the zombies up until just last night-technically two nights ago now since it's after midnight.
She got out of bed and took a shower, then went into the living room and sat on the couch to watch some TV. She flipped over to the news as she always did and couldn't believe what she was seeing! She was watching a different broadcast than the one Will and I saw a few days earlier, but I'm sure the one she did see, was just as bad. No, probably worse. The undead multiplied quickly in those first few days.
Bianca watched in horror as people who should have been unable to breath, let alone move, were doing just that. She watched the killings from both the undead and the living. Unable to comprehend that what she was seeing was, in fact, real.
That is, until she saw a fellow teacher-who was very strict and proper-rip into another human being, tearing their body apart. Blood and gore covered her face, hands, and body, which was completely out-of-the-norm for the woman who taught-and enforced in her own students-the use of manners, etiquette, and how to be socially acceptable. Bianca then realized Miss Manners was gone, and in her place was Miss Ima-gonna-eat'cha.
Living alone with her little dog, Vayda, she was scared to death, and had no idea what to do. I can't even imagine how terrified she must have been.
She told us she turned all her lights off, hoping the undead killers would pass her house by, but the darkness made her fear even worse. Still, she kept them off and sat on her couch in front of her front window, her curtains pulled and the blinds closed. Peeking out between the slats of the blinds, she watched-seeing nothing, not even any neighbors. She had the horrifying thought that she was the only one left on her street, possibly in the entire town!
Bianca lived just a block from the school she and Will both worked at and I know Will is feeling just as guilty as I am that we hadn't checked on her when we raided the school.
Bianca vaguely remembers hearing the annoying ring of the doorbell several times but was so drugged up on meds she couldn't have moved if she wanted to. She is now certain that it was her neighbors trying to warn her. They probably gave up, thinking she was already gone, her car hidden in the garage offered no reason for them to think otherwise.
Bianca was uncertain of what she should do-staying home was probably not the best option but it was the only option she felt she had. She has no family and nowhere to really go, so she made the decision to stay.
She armed herself with a couple knives from the kitchen since that's all the weapons she had, and continued watching out the window. She had no idea how long she sat there, but the next thing she knew, she was waking up to sunlight peeking around the edges of her curtains and blinds.
Confused over why she had fallen asleep on the couch, her memory of the night before flooded back when she saw the knives lying on the coffee table in front of her. Vayda woke from her sleep and whined to be let out.
Bianca, more confident now that the sun was out-and mistakenly thinking, like a lot of us had, that the undead only came out at night-pulled the slats open wide to check the outside, certain the news and all the activity was just a bad dream. But what she saw outside, that she hadn't seen in the darkness of the night before, quickly shattered that thought.
Half-eaten bodies and blood littered the street and lawns of the neighborhood. Homes with doors and windows busted in and cars, some still idling, left wherever they were when tragedy struck the owners. But the most horrifying sight to her was when a real live-she said it, not me!-zombie came into sight, staggering up the road. When it came even with the window she was sitting behind, it stopped. Slowly, it turned its head, as if it had heard or smelled her.
Bianca, hands shaking with terror, let the blinds close as slowly and gently as she could and backed away from the window. Running into her bedroom, she threw on warm clothes, realizing she probably should have done that last night. Putting her socks and shoes on, she took Vayda into the bathroom and pulled out one of the training pads Vayda hadn't used in years.
Praying Vayda would cooperate, Bianca sighed with relief when the little dog immediately did her business with no hesitation. While waiting for her to finish up, Bianca brushed her teeth and started throwing what she knew she would need most into a suitcase and an overnight bag.
Her garage is attached to her house and a connecting door in the kitchen made safe and easy access for her to be able to load her car. Grabbing what she needed for Vayda and storing it in the car, she was ready to go-except for putting Vayda's sweater on, of course.
She risks a quick peek out the window again, wanting to know what she would have be facing once she opened the large garage door-and came face to face with the undead she had seen earlier. It was just standing in front of her window, looking at it but not moving-that is, until he saw her through the blinds. Then he suddenly flew into motion. Raising his arm and making a fist, he slammed it into her window, glass flying, just as Bianca jumped away.
Bianca knew she had no time to waste and snatched up Vayda, who that whole time never once barked at all the chaos outside or even when the zombie was outside her window. Bianca had always loved that her little dog wasn't the type to bark, but she wished now Vayda would at least let out a little growl every now and then as a warning.
Bianca ran into the garage, slamming the door behind her to try and give herself more time. She jumped inside her car, hitting the automatic garage door opener after she had placed and buckled Vayda in her doggy seat.
As the door opened wider, Bianca turned her attention to the world beyond, devastated to see all the zombies staggering up the road, from behind homes, coming out from the inside of homes-all headed straight for her. Some of them kids and parents she knew from school.
Slamming her foot on the gas, she shot out of her garage and down her short driveway, turning right, she almost flipped her little car in her panic to get out and get out safely. Not knowing where to go, she just started driving.
Having lived around the S
pringfield area her most of her life, Bianca knew all the back roads to get around it, eliminating the trauma of having to get through the big city. She said her mind had stayed pretty blank until about an hour past Springfield, feeling as if she was being led in that direction, when the idea to call Will and I popped into her head.
She had talked to my dad and followed his directions, having to turn around and find different routes a couple times because, where once the road was open, it wasn't by then. She was doing ok until about twenty miles from Snowden-when her gas light came on. That was the last thing she wanted to see.
Arriving in Snowden, she found the town to be calm and zombie-free, but her car refused to go another two blocks to the gas station and died in the middle of the road. She sat in her car, watching for the undead as she tried calling me-over and over.
I duck my head, ashamed of missing her calls and unable to even come close to understanding how terrified she must have been. I look up at her and apologize for being such a shitty friend to her. She smiles and pats my arm, assuring me it wasn't my fault and she knows I would have answered if I could have and blah, blah, blah-just meaningless words that can't change how I feel. I give her a weak smile and encourage her to go on with her story.
She had started seeing movement about that time, a few blocks behind her and frantically tried to determine if they were alive or undead. Noticing the awkwardness of the walk, she decided they were most definitely undead-what she hadn't noticed, was the two zombies coming for her from the front of the vehicle until they were almost to the car.
Knowing she and Vayda wouldn't have a chance in the little car, she grabbed her dog and jumped out, dropping her cell phone on the floorboard. She knew she needed it but had no time to pick it up.
She ran to the back of a house, a horde of zombies lurching after her. Going around to the other side of the house, she paused long enough for a closer zombie to cross the front yard and then shot to her car, snatching up her phone.
Gripping her cell tightly, she ran to the green house and flew up the stairs. She was already in the master bedroom when she finally got hold of me. With the door shut on the bedroom and hiding inside the bathroom, she stayed until we got there.
"What about the boy?" I ask her.
"That boy?" she asks, nodding her head to the back.
"Yeah. We found him in one of the other rooms hiding under a bed, a zombie doing her damnedest to get to him." I tell her.
"I didn't know he was there! I heard the zombie-it scared the hell out of me-but I had no idea there was any other living person in the house. That poor little boy! I'm such a horrible person!" She buries her head in her hand and her shoulders start shaking. I know how much that has to hurt her, she loves kids-kinda have to if you want to be a good teacher.
Will and I both rush to reassure her that there was nothing she could have done, not having a weapon and not knowing there was anyone living. Who would willingly take on of these things if they didn't have to? And she didn't know she had, too. Finally, she stops crying but I know the hurt will torment her for a good long while.
Chapter Fourteen
I see an old farmhouse set way back from the road and, not seeing any threats, I turn off the highway and onto the long drive leading to the house. Will asks what I'm doing and I tell him this might be safer, being out of the way and all, than trying to stop in a town. He nods and Bianca wakes Jake, who wakes the boy. We really need to find out that boy's name.
I slowly pull up to the side of the house next to a door. We don't see anything but, again, that doesn't mean much. We decide Jake and I will check the house and the rest will wait in the truck, just in case we need to leave quick.
Outside, Jake tosses me a box of ammo for the handgun, telling me that's the last of it. Startled, I drop the bullet I'm about to load into the clip and it falls to the ground. Whipping my head in his direction, I give him a shocked look.
"Yep. No more ammo except that box and the one I've got. There's more back at your sisters, but not much-unless they've had to use it all, anyway."
Well, hell! Just full of all kinds of sunshine aren't we, Jake? I'm not mad at him, just the situation. Really.
"I think when we get back we need to make a trip to Nebraska to the other armory. Can't wait too long or we may be too late," he tells me.
I nod and look over at Will, who is hanging out the window. Sighing, I tell Will to wish us luck and we give each other a quick, but deep, kiss. He tells me to be careful and he loves me-then gives me a look, which I know is to remind me to be good around Jake.
I catch Jake roll his eyes but I ignore him. After an "I love you" back to Will, I pick up the dropped bullet, load my gun, and follow Jake to the door of the house. He knocks first, just in case a gun from inside is pointed and ready to fire. Hopefully, they know zombies don't knock!
Hearing nothing, Jake tries the knob and it turns easily. He slowly eases the door open, and the damn hinges creak like a typical scary movie-the lightning and thunder making it even more perfect. Nice!
I see a light switch just inside the door and flip it on. Shadows disappear and objects are clearly not as menacing as they seemed in the dark. Jake looks back at me and grins.
"When do you think electricity will be a thing of the past?" I ask him.
"Not long now, I'm sure. I kinda expected it the first day, to be honest. Too many scary zombie movies, I guess," he tells me, still on alert, still clearing rooms.
"You know how much that's gonna suck, right? No light to see the scary shit. No way to charge cell phones. No hot showers. Oh God! I'm going to miss those hot showers most!" I can't help but bitch and moan about it. It will suck!
Jake stops and turns to me, grabbing my arm. He leans toward me and growls, "Do us both a favor-or at least me-and don't mention showers and yourself in the same sentence. You may be all kinds of happy having Will back, but I can't say I feel the same way. And I really don't see why him being back has to change anything, anyway."
He pulls me to him, smashing me against his chest. He places his hands-one in a fist, as he's still holding his handgun-on each side of my face, pulling my head up toward him.
Chapter Fifteen
I put my hands on his chest and look into his eyes. He should have known then. Should have seen it in my eyes. But he never learns. Never backs away. Never stops. So when he crumbles to the ground with his hand on his crotch, gasping in between calling me every name possible, I don't feel bad at all.
I stand above him, hands on my hips, rage sending hot lava from my eyes to engulf him as he writhes in agony. Angry at him-but at myself, as well, for the lightning bolts of passion that shoot through my body just from his damn touch.
In a low, no-nonsense voice I spell it out for him, "First thing, Jake, I won't cheat on Will. What happened between us only happened because I thought he was dead. I may not have done everything I should have and I never should have allowed things to get as far as they did with you. I'm really sorry about that. Second, you're damn right I'm happy Will's back! The fact you aren't happy is something you better get the hell over quick." I crouch down so that we are eye to eye.
"None of this is about you, Jake. You're not a part of this marriage, in fact, until just a few days ago, I didn't even know who the hell you were. You want to be friends, fine. We can be friends. But only if this shit stops and stops now. If you want to be stupid and childish and hate me from now on, that's perfectly fine, too. But," I lean in close. "You. Leave. My. Husband. Alone!"
I stand and leave him on the floor. Making my way upstairs, I clear each room and then head back down. Jake has moved from the floor to a kitchen chair and avoids me as I walk through. I shake my head at the ignorance of the whole thing and go out the back door, letting the others know it's safe to come in.
I tell Will to wait for me as I walk to the back of the truck where I get a set of the military fatigues, underwear, socks and boots in Will's size and help him into the house. As we walk inside t
he kitchen, Jake glares at Will and I glare at Jake. He ducks his head when he notices my eyes blazing at him but, fortunately Will doesn't notice.
I help Will upstairs and into the large bathroom. I help him undress, start the shower, and he gets in. I sit on the bathroom floor with my back against the door and wait.
"So what's with the dirty look from Jake?" he calls out through the shower curtain. So he did see that.
"Having a bad night, I guess," I reply with as much disinterest as I can without it being totally obvious that I know exactly what his problem is. Aching balls being one of those things.
"Oh, and by the way, nice hickey," Will tells me, his voice angry. He punctuates his words with a fist slamming into the shower wall.
My heart stops and I lose the ability to breath. Oh God!
"Will, it's not what you think! It's a bruise...from fighting with a zombie...he grabbed me by the neck...honest!"
Now, before you start judging me, what would you do? How would you explain to your husband /wife/partner that; they were gone, you were convinced they were dead, and that you were only thinking about your and your kids' futures? And of course, if you're the suicidal type-that you were totally lusting after someone else, and since your spouse/partner was gone, why not? How well do you think they would take it?
The shower shuts off and the curtain rattles across the bar as it opens. Will grabs a towel and and I watch as he dries off. Of course I'm watching. Hello??? For an old guy, he sure looks good naked. HAHAHA! Had to go there. Sorry. He's really not that old, it's just something we tease each other about because there is a thirteen year age difference between us.
I get to my feet and walk over to him. I take the towel away and motion for him to turn around. He does and I take my time drying off his back. When I finish, I give him a nice smack on his ass. He jumps and yelps. I grin at him as he turns to me and wraps his arms around me. Damn this feels nice. I thought all this was gone. I will never take him for granted again. I lean into him and he holds me tighter. Raising my face to him, we kiss long and hard. If only we had more time...but we don't and that sucks.