by Ariel Bonin
_____
Lindsey balanced her mug in one hand and can of fruit in the other as she walked into the living room. She made a face at the hideous couch, but didn't say anything. She placed her meal on the end table and scanned the room.
"What are you looking for?" Andrew asked as he took a quick sip of hot tea.
"A blanket…"
"In the bedroom closet." He pointed at the doorway behind her. "You might want to shake it out first, just in case."
She scrunched up her nose and walked into the other room. There wasn't a lot of light, but it was clear she wouldn't be able to reach the blankets, as they were on the top shelf.
"Andrew?"
"Yeah?" He stepped into the room without her even having to ask. She pointed to the blankets.
"I'm too short."
Andrew stretched up on his tip toes to reach for the first blanket. He passed it to her and started to pull down the next square of fleecy material. There was a sliding sound and a thud as something solid landed on Andrew's head. He attempted to shield himself, but it was too late. He collapsed onto the floor, holding his head.
"Andrew! Are you okay?" Lindsey exclaimed, falling to her knees beside him.
"Ugh! What was that?" He pulled his hands away from his head and checked for blood. There was none.
Without hesitation, Lindsey held his face in her hands and looked him over. Her movements were almost frantic. Suddenly, she realized Andrew wasn't moving and, instead, was studying her face. They were so close that she could feel his warm breath on her parted lips. Her whole body screamed to just kiss him, but, after last time, didn't want to take the chance of being rejected. Her fingertips caressed his prickly cheeks as she tried to tear away her gaze. His eyes had turned a gorgeous shade of dark blue and glittered wildly in the dim room. Without thinking, she lightly wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. Just as the end of her nose brushed his, she gritted her teeth and pulled away. She sat back and they both took a deep breath to release the tension in the air.
Lindsey moved to lift the now unfolded blankets and gasped when she saw what had struck Andrew over the head.
"This might come in handy…"
_____
Lindsey hurried down the hallway and through the first doorway she came across. She slammed the door behind her and turned around. The room was empty, consisting of only four dark and dirty concrete walls. She had been here before, but only in her dreams. It was how she knew what would happen next.
She blinked and there was Jared. He stood before her in his Cardinals jersey. Everything looked normal about him, except for his eyes. No longer a brilliant green, they were gray and covered with a milky haze. He stepped toward her and she tried to take a step back, but was still pressed against the closed door. A voice in her head repeated the words she had heard hundreds of times before.
It's not him. He is going to kill you. Put him down.
Since the room was empty, she had nothing to use in defense. He quickly advanced on her and she pushed him away. He came at her again, and this time she kicked out his legs, sending him to the floor with a thump. Before he could get up, she tumbled onto him and held his head in both of her hands. With a wave of nausea, she attempted to twist his head to the side. It was like this every time—she was suddenly too weak to do what she needed to do. It felt like every muscle was gone from her arms.
Finally, she clenched her teeth and fought the weightlessness. With a gut-wrenching snap, she knew it was done. She stood up and looked down at her husband. This was usually the part when she saw that his eyes had cleared and he was staring into nothingness—but this time it wasn't him. Instead, Andrew's blue eyes were empty and lifeless. Lindsey fell to her knees, sobs ripping from her throat.
"Oh, God. Andrew..." She carefully touched his cheek. Still, he didn't move.
You killed him.
"Oh, Andrew. What did I do? Andrew!"
Lindsey jolted awake. Andrew's face hovered over hers. She had never been so thankful to see his vibrant eyes. She heard a loud whimpering noise mixed with rapid breathing, and was surprised to realize both were coming from her. Andrew held her shoulders and gently rubbed her soft skin with his thumb. Wetness streaked her cheeks and she gasped as she tried to catch her breath.
"Shh, you're okay. You're awake now," he murmured.
Lindsey looked into his eyes as he attempted to help her take slower breaths. They both inhaled and exhaled. Gradually, she began to calm.
"Do you want to talk about it? It might help," he suggested as he sat in the nearby armchair.
She wrapped the worn blanket around her shoulders and glanced at him. He was leaning back with his ankle on the opposite knee and one elbow resting on the arm of the chair. She looked away from him, not sure if she really wanted to tell him the whole thing—especially the part that involved her husband turning into him. When she spoke, her voice was noticeably heavy from sleep.
"I've had this dream since the beginning...or the end, depending on how you look at it."
"How often?"
She shrugged. "Probably three or four nights a week, sometimes more."
Andrew nodded, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. It was all the encouragement she needed to tell him about her dream.
"I'm running from something. I don't know what, just that I have to get away. I close myself in an abandoned room, but then Jared is there. He looks exactly as I last remember him, except for his eyes. He had the most beautiful green eyes. I always joked that they were the reason I married him."
Her lips twitched into a small smile, but it was quickly replaced with a frown. She didn't say out loud that she had hoped their future children would have green eyes like their father.
"For a few seconds, I think it's still him and he won't attack me, but something in my mind tells me he's a threat and the only way to survive...is to kill him."
Lindsey stopped and ran a hand through her hair. It exaggerated the part and made her look disheveled, which was fitting for the moment. She regarded Andrew, expecting him to say something. Instead, he patiently waited for her to continue. She began, slower this time, as if it actually pained her to speak.
"He comes at me. I try to fight him off, but I'm so weak. Eventually I...do what I needed to do. But when I look at him, his eyes have cleared. Then the voice is telling me that he wasn't a threat and I killed him in cold blood. I start crying and scream his name, hoping that he'll wake up. That maybe it's some sick joke or just a dream..."
Through a single glance, they exchanged an unspoken thought: there was no relief after waking from a nightmare, because it was ongoing. Their lives were nightmares.
"Is it always Jared that you see?" Andrew asked suddenly.
"Yes, uh...of course. Why?" It was a lie, but she didn't want him to think she was some crazy woman having dreams about him.
"No reason. Just curious." He scratched his head, not meeting her eyes.
"D-did I say anything before I woke up?" Lindsey tried to ask casually.
That time he did look at her. He appeared to be hesitating. Finally, he said, "No, it just sounded like you were crying."
Lindsey knew he was the one lying now. Past group members had told her that during that particular nightmare she cried out her dead husband's name before waking. Always. She knew Andrew had heard her say his name. She just hoped it didn't make him see her differently.
Attempting to break the tension-filled silence, Lindsey changed the subject.
"I'm sorry if I woke you. You look exhausted."
"Yeah, well, you didn't. I couldn't sleep. I decided to clean the hunting rifle that was so kind as to crack me over the head. I swear, if I get hit one more time in the head, there's going to be permanent damage." He gestured to the rifle bitterly.
"That rifle may very well save your head. It's a good thing we found it, or that it found us." Lindsey smiled wryly. "Do you know what time it is?"
All the curtains had been pulled shut, so it was impossible to see if there was
any daylight yet. Andrew studied his watch by the lantern they had found under the kitchen sink.
"It's almost five. The sun will be coming up pretty soon. We should get our things together and head out at first light. Would you like a cup of tea before we leave?" he asked as he got up to walk into the kitchen.
"Yes, please. I could use the caffeine."
Lindsey stretched and got up to use the bathroom. She did her business and walked back into the living room. Andrew presented her with a steaming mug and she took it gratefully.
_____
The pair ate their small breakfast in silence. When they heard the prominent sound of tires on gravel, Andrew rushed to the nearest window and pulled back the curtain just enough to see down the driveway. At the same time, Lindsey dimmed the lantern until the room was swallowed in darkness.
"Can you tell who it is?"
Squinting, Andrew was able to spot the outline of a light bar on the front of the approaching vehicle. He recognized it immediately.
"We gotta go. Grab the rifle, I'll get the bag of supplies. We'll go out the back." He rushed to throw the last couple of necessities in a nearby duffle bag. After throwing it over his shoulder, he withdrew his gun from its holster and checked the magazine—two rounds.
Shit.
He hurried to meet Lindsey and found her waiting, the rifle slung over her back.
"Stay low and head for the woods leading toward the direction of the school. If we get split up, just keep going and follow close to the lake. Got it?" he whispered.
She nodded.
"Good. Let's go."
With careful fingers, Andrew unlocked the door and opened it enough for them to slip through. Lindsey quickly made her way into the woods, which were dark with brush. He was about to follow when the beam of a flashlight crossed his path. A shadow appeared in front of him and he heard the all too familiar sound of a gun being cocked.
"Found ya, Captain. You're a little late for your date with our buddy, Marcus. Shall we?"
Andrew attempted to aim his gun at Parker, but was grabbed from behind and swiftly disarmed by Joey. He clenched his jaw in frustration. Parker prodded him forward and he dragged his feet, trying to buy some time. He tried to be subtle as he looked to see if Lindsey was nearby, but it was too dark.
"Where the hell is Dave? Shouldn't he have finished his sweep by now?" Parker snapped, still pushing Andrew to walk faster. Dave must have been one of Marcus’s new recruits. Dumb bastard.
"I'll find him," Joey said.
"And the girl! I know she's gotta be close by."
Joey ran off and Parker continued to shove Andrew forward, his mind racing. How was he going to get out of this? Where was Lindsey? Did Dave find her? Horrible thoughts swirled through his head. Parker solidified them as he started to antagonize Andrew.
"She is quite the looker. I do hope you got a piece of that 'cause, as of today, she's mine. I told the guys I'd share, and hey, maybe if I get bored, I will. But first, she needs to know what it feels like to be with a real man."
Andrew tightened his fists until they ached. He was about to turn around and beat the living daylights out of Parker when he heard a loud crack and felt the splatter of a warm liquid on his back. He peered over his shoulder. There was a ragged hole where Parker's face had been only a moment before and the man's body lay crumpled on the rocky driveway. Andrew looked up as Lindsey ran toward him, rifle in hand. She stopped so quickly that her boots slid across the gravel.
"Oh, God. You're okay!" she whispered, breathless.
He was about to wrap his arms around her in relief when he noticed her hands were painted with blood.
"What the hell happened, Lindsey? Are you okay?"
"Andrew, I'm all right... I took care of them," she said, while attempting to wipe the blood onto her jeans.
"'Them'?"
She shrugged and touched the knife on her hip. "I did what I had to do. I told you that you'd get back to Zoey and Jacob—no matter what."
Chapter 7
"We should walk from here. Who knows what we'll find when we get there," Andrew stated, his voice bleak.
He and Lindsey had taken the SUV, since it wouldn't be of any use now to Marcus’s henchmen. Driving the last ten miles had been a breeze compared to walking aimlessly through the woods.
Lindsey reloaded the rifle while he drove. About a half mile from the school, he pulled into a driveway that was almost completely grown in. As he turned off the ignition, she passed it to him. Their gazes locked, and he had to admit that he saw her differently now. Yes, he had killed living, breathing people, but not everyone in their group had. He knew the weight it carried, even if it was justified. And it wasn't just that she had killed three men—she had done it to protect him.
"You ready?" she asked, drawing him out of his thoughts.
He nodded and stepped out of the vehicle. Lindsey followed, the duffle bag of supplies tossed over her shoulder.
As they walked through the woods surrounding the school, the sun peeked over the horizon. It turned the leaves a warm shade of gold, and they shimmered lightly in the passing breeze. The only sound that could be heard was the chirping of birds and crickets.
When they got to the clearing in front of the school, they hid in the tall grass to get a better view without making their presence known. Someone stood on the bus by the front gate, but it was difficult to say who. Fearing the worst, Andrew looked through the scope on his rifle, and released a sigh when he saw who it was.
"It's Caren. That's gotta be a good sign, right?" He glanced back at Lindsey but didn't get a reply. She was staring off slightly to the left, a concerned look on her face. "What is it?" he asked nervously.
"Andrew, what's on that side of the school?"
He followed her gaze and his breath caught. Even without the scope, it was clear that some of their group was moving around—digging—to be exact.
"Oh, God..." he whispered.
"Come on. We need Caren to see us so they'll open the gate," she said, starting to stand.
Andrew shouldered the rifle and joined her. They raised their arms into the air and walked out into the open. Caren started to lift her gun, but stopped when she realized it was them.
"Andrew! Lindsey! Hold on, I'll get the gate open. Watch your backs!" she said as she disappeared behind the bus.
Lindsey turned to see a male turner coming at her from behind. She pulled out her knife and jabbed it into the side of his skull. She released him and the blade slid out with a soft squelching sound. Andrew took out two more that were milling around by the gate. Caren appeared, hastily opening it far enough for Andrew and Lindsey to squeeze through. They rushed in, and she shut it as turners swarmed the outside. They weren't able to form a single thought before Caren threw her arms around them—Andrew first, then Lindsey.
"I can't believe you're all right! How did you get away?" she asked, bewildered.
"We have our ways," Andrew said quickly. "What happened, Caren? Are Zoey and Jacob okay?"
"Yes, they're okay. I think Zoey will be a lot better though when she sees you're back. Everyone else—I can't speak for them." She paused. "Marcus was here, Andrew. We knew he had to have taken both of you, but before we could even start to figure out a plan, he showed up with his newly-expanded gang."
Andrew closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "How many?" he mumbled. When she didn't reply, he lifted his head and pinned her with a fearful look. "How many did they kill?"
"Fourteen. Ten from their old group, three elderly, and...Veronica," Caren answered, visibly shaken. Veronica was Darius’s little sister, barely out of her teens.
"Dammit!" Andrew shouted.
"There's more. He took Ana. Charlie followed them to see if he can figure out where they're holding her. He's not back yet."
It was easy to see that Caren was worried about her father. Lindsey stepped forward and touched her arm.
"Don't worry about Charlie. I'
m sure he's fine. We think their camp is at least fifteen miles from here, so he's probably still on his way back. Besides, you know your dad can certainly take care of himself," Lindsey said with a slight smile.
Caren pressed her lips together and nodded. Once again, she hugged Lindsey tightly. Andrew interrupted.
"I'm going to find Zoey. Is she inside?"
Caren released Lindsey as she spoke. "Yes. She and Jacob are hiding in the principal's office. Eric is posted outside the door. A handful of people were injured, so Robert has been caring for them. Everyone else is digging graves." She said the last words quietly.
"I'll go help them," Lindsey replied.
Andrew nodded and walked into the school to find his children.
_____
Lindsey approached the open space of the schoolyard, which had turned into a full-size cemetery overnight. Everyone's face was a portrait of despair—until they saw that one of their own had made it back. Nadie immediately dropped her shovel and ran to Lindsey.
"Oh, my goodness! Wh-where did you come from? Is Andrew with you?" Nadie exclaimed as they embraced.
"He's here. He went to see Zoey and Jacob." Lindsey held her at arm's length. "I'm so sorry we weren't here. We tried to get back as fast as we could, but we ran out of daylight."
Nadie shook her head. "It's not your fault. You're here now and in one piece. That's what matters."
"Is there anything I can do?" Lindsey asked, looking around at the people digging graves for their lost loved ones. She didn't think her heart could feel any heavier, but once she laid eyes on Darius, she knew she was mistaken. He was off to one corner by himself, using a pickaxe to chip away at the rocky soil. A slender, sheet-wrapped body lay next to the slowly-expanding hole.
Nadie leaned in close to whisper, "He's not handling it very well, and rightfully so. Marcus killed Veronica, and Darius didn't find her until after. She had turned. He hasn't spoken to anyone since."
The two women exchanged a look of concern. Picking up a nearby shovel, Lindsey started toward Darius.
"Lindsey!" Nadie whispered sharply.