by Ariel Bonin
His friendship with Charlie Knox had surprised everyone, including himself. The man grew up in Texas, working long hours as a farmhand until he broke out on the rodeo circuit. A wild life on the road left him with two children and a serious case of alcoholism. After nearly dying during a drunken bull ride, he cleaned up his act and focused on being a better father. Sober for twenty years, he still had his eldest child Eric, daughter Caren, and son-in-law Robert. Robert, a former EMT, provided the group's medical care, which he had been teaching Caren little by little. With such a large group inhabiting the school, they needed as many medically-trained people as they could get.
Another necessity for their group was supply runs. Andrew hated making supply runs. It reminded him of the days when Kelly used to forget something while grocery shopping and he would have to go to the store every other day after work to make up for it. Except now, he had to fight the dead just for a box of stale crackers. With their summer crops in limited stock, supply runs were becoming more frequent and somewhat of a nuisance. He had to accept, though, that he had brought in many of their group members while out foraging. He made his bed, now he had to lie in it.
If only it were that easy.
Today, he, Charlie, and Caren were raiding a small town south of the school. They had already scavenged in the three other directions, so this was their last hope before needing to spread out further. The thought always made him uncomfortable, as those trips never went well.
Luckily, there weren't many turners to contend with today. Caren had decided to search an insurance office, which Andrew found pointless until she strode out carrying a ridiculous amount of coffee, dried creamer, and sugar packets. She immediately went up a few notches in his book. Coffee was a rare pleasure nowadays. Charlie had taken to a convenience store across the street. The ones that weren't heavily raided by now generally held a broad range of items. That left Andrew with the town pharmacy. Medical supplies had always been important, but their group included a handful of elderly folks that needed special prescriptions. To be honest, he was surprised they had survived this long with what little they had.
As he approached the pharmacy, his hand lingered on the butt of his silver Beretta 92FS. He carefully scanned both sides of the street and shielded his eyes to peek through the large glass windows. Nothing was moving inside, but that didn't really mean much. Once a turner got stuck in a building, it tended to just sit and wait for its dinner to show up.
He carefully turned the knob and was grateful that the door bell was no longer functioning. Most pharmacies had switched to an electric "ding" and that turned out to be a good alternative to the bell on a string. Those made him feel like he was literally ringing a dinner bell for the turners.
The store was generally intact and no immediate threats presented themselves to him. He started down the first aisle, his boots making soft thuds on the thin Berber carpet. As he rounded the corner to approach the front counter, his gaze fell upon a small trail of blood. It wound its way down one aisle, then smeared in a trail to disappear behind the counter. Blood was a normal sight while scavenging, but this looked fresh. Andrew pulled out his Beretta and stepped cautiously to look behind the counter, only to stare down the barrel of a Glock. A woman, who looked to be in her late twenties, was huddled in the corner, a pool of drying blood beneath her left leg. Somehow he knew it was a gunshot—military instincts or whatever. She looked tired and scared.
"Don't come any closer…" Her gun shook and it appeared that she was having a hard time holding it up. If he had meant her any harm, he could have easily overpowered her.
"I'm not going to hurt you. I'll put my gun away. Okay?" Andrew stated in a low voice as he tucked his Beretta into its holster and held up his free hand.
"Are you here to finish the job?" she spat. Her gun didn't move.
Andrew shook his head. "Me and my people didn't do this to you. I would like to help you, if you'll let me," he said as calmly as possible.
She hesitated, her eyes judging. "You say 'people'? What kind of people?"
"Right now it's myself and two people from my group, Charlie and Caren. We live at a school north of here with a large group of men, women, and children. I'll get Caren for you if she would make you more comfortable..."
She let out a shaky breath. "Why should I trust you?"
"Because if I had wanted to hurt you, I would've done so by now."
Andrew could almost hear the gears turning in her head. He used that moment to take in her appearance. She was younger than him, but definitely older than Caren. Her wavy blonde hair was dirty and matted; her eyes brown. It was hard to tell how tall she was from where she sat, but she looked to be at least five-foot-five. Her plaid button-up shirt and dark jeans were also dirty and hung loosely from her small frame. That was pretty normal for anyone at this point. Food may have been in short supply, but cardio certainly wasn't.
He watched as she slowly lowered her gun and shifted uncomfortably. She proceeded to grab ahold of the counter, and stood up. She placed her weight dominantly on her right leg, but he could see she was weak and wouldn't stay up for long.
Right as her legs buckled, Andrew rushed forward to keep her from falling. His hands scooped under her armpits and held her body close to his. She stiffened out of fear, but he reassured her again that he only wanted to help. Andrew watched as she tried to take a step, but collapsed again in his arms.
"What's your name?" he asked, still supporting her.
"Lindsey."
"It's nice to meet you, Lindsey. I'm Andrew. Now, how about we get out of here?" He gave her a warm smile.
She nodded and reached for her backpack. He got to it first, his other arm still wrapped around her tiny waist. He threw the pack over his shoulder and then motioned that he was going to pick her up. She nodded reluctantly and wound her arms around his neck. He let out a small grunt as he picked her up and balanced her weight between his arms.
As he carried her out of the pharmacy, he couldn't help but think how the group would react to him bringing back another mouth to feed.
Chapter 2
"I have a surprise for you," she announced, her hands behind her back.
"Aw, honey! I thought we agreed that we wouldn't do gifts this year."
Lindsey looked at her husband and gave him an infectious smile. "I know! I know...but I couldn't resist. Ready?"
Jared nodded and watched as she presented him with a jersey—a St. Louis Cardinals jersey to be exact. He looked up at his wife and grinned.
"I thought you would like to wear it to the game this weekend. Do you like it?" Lindsey asked, already knowing the answer.
"Of course! I've always wanted one," he replied, sounding somewhat in awe.
"And there's something else...look," she whispered, and turned the jersey over. On the back in big print was their last name, SCOTT, and his favorite number, 10.
"Oh, babe! This is amazing! Thank you!"
Lindsey was instantly wrapped in his arms and lifted off the ground.
"Lindsey? Hey, wake up," a voice murmured next to her ear.
"Jared?"
"Uh, it's Andrew. Can you open your eyes?"
Lindsey felt her head bob, and then opened her groggy eyes to a large brick building looming overhead. They passed through a metal door and it became too dark to see. Then there were faces. She had a hard time focusing on them, especially since she didn't recognize any of them. Everyone had the same look though: curiosity. Well, all but one. She spotted a young girl, though, it was hard to say how old she was, as this world aged people beyond their years. The girl looked at her, then above her, and proceeded to walk away while shaking her head. Lindsey tried to process her reaction, but was suddenly brought into, what appeared to be, an old nurse's office, and lay on a small cot. It was then that she looked up at the man who had been carrying her.
"Robert's going to have a look at you. He has some experience with gunshot wounds. You're in good hands, trust me."
It to
ok Lindsey a moment to see the other man beside Andrew. She was too busy staring into his painfully-beautiful blue eyes.
Eventually, she nodded and turned her gaze to Robert. He was rather young, but exuded a certain level of competence that allowed her to trust him.
"Hi, Lindsey. Can you tell me what happened to you?" Robert asked while examining her leg. His curly hair caught the light and she noticed its rich auburn color. With mossy green eyes, she immediately pegged him of Irish descent.
"I was traveling with two other people. Our car had run out of gas, again, so we started walking to the closest town. We were almost there when I heard an engine coming up fast, and then gunfire. Frank was shot in the head; Stacy in the back. At the last second I dove into the high grass, but not before getting one in the leg. I must have passed out for a few minutes. When I came to, Stacy was grabbing at my feet, except it wasn't Stacy anymore. I put her down."
Lindsey flinched when Robert touched a spot near her wound. She could feel Andrew's steady gaze on the side of her face. She flicked him a nervous glance and returned to look at Robert as he asked, "Did you notice anything about the vehicle, or what they looked like?"
"It happened so fast. All I saw was a dark-colored SUV with an off-road light bar attached to the front."
Robert and Andrew exchanged a look that she couldn't figure out.
"How did you end up in that pharmacy?" Andrew questioned.
"I limped, fell, dragged myself...anything to get away from the road. I had thought they would come back to finish me off. That's when you showed up. Thankfully, you had good intentions."
Andrew's lips quirked into a small smile, but she could see he was distracted by his own thoughts.
"Well, it looks like you got here before an infection could start. The bullet went straight through and missed your major arteries. You're one lucky lady. I'll get Caren to help me stitch you up," Robert said, starting to rise.
At that same moment, Andrew abruptly stood up and walked out of the room.
_____
"It was them, wasn't it?" Andrew asked, his voice grudging.
Robert frowned. "Her description of their truck was a match. After what Marcus and those douchebags pulled here, I wouldn't put it past them to shoot some random scavengers just for the fun of it."
"But you know what this means, don't you? We just missed running into them. They're still hanging around here. Hell, Marcus probably thought they were from our group and killed them out of spite." Andrew closed his eyes and ran a hand through his short, choppy hair. He brought it to rest on his belt and holster, and threw a glance toward the room their newcomer was occupying.
"Should we tell her?" Robert asked.
Andrew shook his head. "Not yet. Not until we have more information. If word gets out around here, we'll have more problems than just a group of vengeful assholes."
_____
Lindsey lay on her back and looked up at the tile ceiling. The pain in her leg was coming in waves now. She hoped Robert had something to give her to help numb it. She tried to think of something to distract herself and was embarrassed when Andrew's face popped into her mind's eye. He really is handsome. She hadn't noticed it at first, but had been a little busy trying to protect herself. With a tall muscular build, strong jaw, and brown hair that was trimmed tighter on the sides and slightly longer on top, she was hard-pressed to find a flaw on him. About three weeks' worth of stubble gave the illusion of a beard, and dark lashes outlined his gorgeous blue eyes. He was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome.
A woman walked into the room carrying a small bag and gave Lindsey a warm smile. "Hi, there. You passed out in the truck before I could introduce myself. I'm Caren," she stated, reaching out to shake the blonde's hand.
"Lindsey."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lindsey. If it's all right with you, I'm going to remove part of your pant leg, and then see if I can get you cleaned up. Robert will come in after and put in the stitches. Can I get you anything?"
"It hurts quite a bit right now. Do you have any pain meds?" Lindsey asked, feeling desperate.
"Of course. Let me see what I can find," Caren said, digging around in her bag to produce a clear vial. "I have some morphine. Are you freaked out by needles?"
"Yes, but right now I really don't care," she said with a half-pained laugh.
Caren unwrapped a sterile needle and prepped Lindsey's arm. As gently as she could, Caren injected the liquid. Within thirty seconds, Lindsey's whole body felt tingly and took on a floating sensation. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, giving in to the approaching drowsiness.
_____
When Lindsey regained consciousness, she turned her head to see a middle-aged, Native American woman sitting beside her. It took her a moment to realize that the woman was holding a wrapped bundle in her arms.
"Oh, you're awake! I'll get Robert or Caren. Hold on," she said, and Lindsey noted the kindness in her eyes. Unfortunately, she hurried out of the room before Lindsey could get a chance to ask her about the bundle. Caren walked in a moment later.
"How are you feeling?"
"Pretty good, actually." Lindsey paused. "The woman that was just in here...was she holding a baby?"
Caren smiled. "Yes, that was Nadie. She helps care for Andrew's son, Jacob."
For some reason, Lindsey felt her stomach drop a bit at that statement. She wondered where the mother was, but didn't want to pry into other people's business.
Caren could sense her hesitation and answered her anyway. "Kelly, Andrew's wife, died right after the birth."
"That's horrible. I'm sorry," Lindsey whispered.
Caren shrugged. "We deal with the hand we're dealt."
That statement couldn't be truer, Lindsey thought. "It's really nice of Nadie to help him out. I'm sure he appreciates it."
"He does," Caren answered, "and I think she does, too. Nadie's children died during the outbreak. Her only living family member is her younger sister, Ana. They're about eight years apart. Ana likes to take watch a lot, so you probably won't see her that often, or at least, not until you get on your feet again."
"And how long do you think that might take?" Lindsey asked, fatigue sneaking up on her once more.
As Caren collected her shoulder-length brown hair and tied it back with an elastic band, she said, "Walking on your own? Probably a couple of weeks or so."
Lindsey pushed out a heavy sigh and her eyes fluttered shut from exhaustion.
"I know. We'll get through it together," Caren said. Her lips curved into a smile of sympathy.
Grateful to not be alone in this sudden struggle, Lindsey attempted to return the smile, and then fell back asleep.
_____
Someone was carrying Lindsey. She'd been in the middle of an odd dream, but her sudden state of consciousness—still in limbo—left her with no memory of what it had been. The pain meds were doing a damn good job, but she felt loopy as hell. She lifted the thousand-pound weights that were her eyelids and squinted at the face above hers. The man was familiar—and oh so attractive. She blinked, trying to focus her bleary eyes on each and every one of those attractive features.
Where are you taking me? The thought was pretty clear in her head, but only came out as a garbled "Where…?"
Andrew looked surprised, like he hadn't expected her to wake. He'd flinched and then gazed down at her with an unreadable expression. "We're moving you to a different room, someplace where—"
"I'll be oudda th' way…" she finished for him as she blew out a heavy breath.
Andrew laughed, the sound almost uneasy, indicating that her forward statement had some truth to it. "I was going to say 'more comfortable.'"
She shrugged, or thought that she did; her limp form remained in the same position as before. She was too tired for anymore words, so she allowed her head to loll and pressed her face against the area between Andrew's chest and shoulder. The skin beneath his tattered shirt was warm, and she burrowed into the soft mat
erial, enjoying the pleasant combination.
Now this is comfortable.
Lindsey made a satisfied noise in the back of her throat and Andrew stiffened, his arms and chest tense around her. She felt the vibrations of his heart underneath her cheek. The steady beating added another layer of coziness, and she closed her eyes on a sigh. His scent, a mixture of the outdoors and pure man, appealed to her senses, which seemed more alert than the rest of her at that moment in time.
As she drifted into a dream-world once more, she suddenly acknowledged the sensation spreading throughout her spent body.
Andrew made her feel safe.
_____
Lindsey's staring contest with the concrete was not going in her favor. She'd woken up early, and, after getting checked by Robert and condemned to bed rest, read the paperback in her bag cover to cover—something she'd done three times already before arriving at the school. Everyone seemed to be busy and perhaps even wary of her since she was the new girl. Nadie had stopped to say hi again, and Lindsey had finally gotten a glimpse of Jacob's round face. She didn't think she would ever see a baby again. She saw it as a good sign to see such a young person thriving, considering the sorry state of the world.
As the day went on, a feeling of disappointment lingered in her chest and she couldn't figure out why. She was most certainly bored and hadn't had a lot of visitors, but still, those things were not it.
Later in the evening, she realized she must have fallen asleep, because she opened her hazy eyes and couldn't remember where she was for an instant. The side of her mouth felt sticky and she reached up to wipe away the drool that had collected there. She knew she'd slept deeply to get to that point. A shuffling sound caught her attention, and her gaze darted to the doorway as she quickly pressed her wet hand into the thin mattress. At the sight of the group's leader Andrew, that feeling of disappointment dissolved, and then she understood the cause of it.