by Ariel Bonin
After knocking on the bathroom door, Lindsey let him in. She was in the middle of brushing her teeth, which was exactly what he intended to do. While they were brushing, he took in the outfit she had chosen to wear to bed—black cloth shorts and a pale pink tank top. Her hair was loose and flowed down her back like a silky waterfall.
When he was finished, he couldn't stop himself from sweeping her hair to the side and pressing his lips to the curve of her neck. Lindsey leaned into his chest as he continued to kiss down to her shoulder. He lifted his head and their gazes locked in the mirror.
"Take me to bed," she whispered.
They made love well into the night, savoring every minute together. Afterward, Andrew held Lindsey close under the thick comforter. The room was toasty, thanks to the fireplace. She snuggled into his arms and sighed happily, her eyes now closed. Andrew listened to her even breathing and studied her sleeping face. She was so peaceful and so damn beautiful. He wanted to protect her from the hell they experienced every single day. He would do anything to keep her safe—God save any person that got between them.
_____
The next morning, Lindsey opened her eyes and relished the sweet ache in her body. She inhaled deeply, stretching out her arms and rolling over to face the other side of the bed. Her heart jumped into her throat when she realized that she was alone. She pulled on the sheet to cover her upper body as she reached for her gun on the bedside table. She sat quietly for a moment. The bedroom door was ajar, and she could make out the unmistakable sounds of clinking dishes coming from the kitchen.
"Andrew?" she called softly.
The clinking stopped, and she heard the steady thumps from his boots on the hardwood floor. His handsome face appeared in the doorway, and she breathed a sigh of relief. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"I have a surprise for you. Don't move. I'll be right back," Andrew said with a smile, before he disappeared again.
A surprise, huh? Lindsey hadn't gotten a decent surprise in a long time. It generally wasn't a good thing to be surprised nowadays, but she was genuinely excited for whatever he wanted to give her, because she knew it had to be good.
Andrew popped back into the room and told her to close her eyes. Feeling self-conscious, she pulled the sheet closer to her body when she saw that he was fully dressed. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited. She felt him set something on her lap. Upon opening her eyes, she discovered a tray topped with a bowl of Cheerios, a can of condensed milk, and a reddish-green apple.
One of their first conversations flew to the front of her brain. 'What I would give for a bowl of Cheerios with whole milk and fresh fruit…'
"You remembered…" she said, her eyes meeting his in astonishment.
"I know it's a little late, but I wanted to give you something for your birthday." Andrew gestured to the tray as he sat on the edge of the bed. "The Cheerios probably taste like sawdust, and I think we're pushin' it on the canned milk, but—"
"I don't care. It's perfect. Thank you," she said, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
They sat, silent, as Lindsey looked over the tray. Warmth expanded within her chest, and she delighted in the long-forgotten sensation. Swallowing her nerves, Lindsey clasped Andrew's hands, looked directly into his eyes, and said, "I love you."
Chapter 14
Andrew could see the anxiety in Lindsey's gaze. She was putting her heart on the line here. It was easy to hear the truth in those three words, but she seemed unsure if he would say it back. It upset him that she doubted his feelings for her. Deep down, he was a man of tradition, some might even say old-fashioned—he wouldn't have slept with her if he didn't love her. To be honest, he should have said it a long time ago—and first. It was too late for that now, so simply saying it in return would have to be enough.
With as much sincerity as he could muster, he replied, "I love you, too, Linds."
Her breath rushed out as she beamed. Andrew enjoyed the sight she made—her radiant face surrounded by sleep-mussed hair that cascaded over her bare shoulders. He picked up the tray and set it off to the other side of the bed. Moving forward, he gently forced Lindsey onto her back. Her head hit the pillow as his mouth covered her soft lips. His hand traveled down her side, removing the sheet as he went. She shivered under his touch as he rubbed the smooth skin covering her thigh. They continued to kiss, stopping when Lindsey prodded a hand against his chest.
"As much as I want to carry on, we have a lot we need to do today. Besides, I'm anxious to dig into my birthday present," she joked as she glanced at the forgotten breakfast tray.
"All right, all right…" He sighed and put his hands up in mock surrender.
Lindsey sat upright and began to cover herself again. The only way he would be able to stop touching her was to get her dressed as quickly as possible, so he found her clothes strewn across the floor, and hastily gathered everything. She gave him a knowing smile as he handed them to her. While she dressed, he distracted himself by slicing the apple into pieces, and dropped them into the bowl of Cheerios. He popped a hole in the lid of the milk and poured it over the cereal. After digging a spoon into the prepared "meal," he passed it to Lindsey. He watched her take the first bite. Expecting an expression of discontent, he was pleasantly surprised when she closed her eyes in satisfaction.
"Good?" he asked, just to be sure.
Lindsey nodded enthusiastically, her mouth full.
Andrew chuckled. "I'm glad. Take your time. I'm gonna finish gathering up our stuff."
About twenty minutes later, they left the house. Their plan was to finish the two remaining streets, and then head back to the school. They methodically cleared each house, eliminating any turners inside. Many were unoccupied. Andrew assumed that quite a few of the former inhabitants didn't make it back. They were most likely infected while at work or in the general public.
Andrew also considered it fortunate that he and Lindsey hadn't run into anyone alive, especially while in the act of scavenging. It gave off the impression that they were ruthless thieves, when really they were just trying to survive like everybody else.
At one point, Andrew was searching a kitchen pantry and came across a rack of empty canning jars. He remembered that his grandmother used to keep a whole winter's worth of canned fruits and vegetables in the basement. All the houses in Jackson Heights had basements, but so far they'd found no reason to go down. Deciding to take a peek, Andrew started down the hallway and located the basement door. Lindsey was filling her bag with toiletries in the bathroom at the end of the hall.
"I'm gonna check out the basement. Holler if you get into any trouble," Andrew said.
Lindsey looked up at him, her expression uneasy. "Just be careful."
Andrew gave her a curt nod and proceeded into the basement. He kept his gun raised and used a flashlight to scan the dark, enclosed space. The shelves of goods that he had been seeking immediately came into view at the bottom of the stairs. Since he was down there, he thought it best to assess the rest of the cellar for useful supplies. He moved away from the stairs and saw only the usual items as they crossed under his beam of light—washing machine, dryer, laundry baskets. He turned the corner and halted in his tracks.
With his eyes squinted in confusion, he circled around a wooden chair that sat alone in this section of the cellar. Sitting in the chair was a man with his hands tied behind his back. Carved into his chest was a single word: MURDERER. Even more disturbing—his eyes and tongue were missing.
"What the…?" Andrew whispered. He was unaware that, during his investigation of the cadaver, a female turner had risen from her seated position in the black corner behind him. Overcome with hunger, she lunged, releasing a rabid growl. However, her growl was cut off as the chain around her neck stopped her merely inches from his leg. Andrew shouted in surprise and stumbled back, almost landing in the lap of the dead man. He managed to catch himself on the arm of the chair and quickly clambered to his feet. He heard Lindsey's hurried footsteps on the sta
irs.
"Andrew? Where are you?" she yelled, the sound of raw fear unmistakable in her voice.
"I'm over here. I'm not hurt!" he answered as she rushed into his arms.
After they embraced, she held him at arm's length. Her wide, glassy eyes shone through the darkness. "I heard you shout and I thought—"
The chained turner chose that moment to let out another angry snarl. Lindsey jumped and raised her flashlight. The turner was a young girl, probably around the age of fourteen. The only visible wound was on her stomach, but it was hard to say what had caused it. Judging by its size and the amount of dried blood on her shirt, Andrew could determine that she died from it. Naturally, he thought of Zoey and felt sick.
With a reluctant flip of his knife, he approached the girl. She strained against the chains as her teeth chomped at the air. He moved efficiently, sinking the blade into the top of her skull. Her limp body landed with a bone-crunching smack on the cement floor.
At that point, Lindsey had caught sight of the man in the chair. "What happened here?" she wondered aloud.
Andrew shook his head. "I don't know, but we should keep movin'."
Lindsey nodded, her eyes filled with sorrow. "Let's just hope that whatever did happen…ended here."
They exchanged a nervous glance and then trudged out of gloomy basement into the bright daylight above.
_____
They were in the middle of searching the second to last house when Lindsey happened to look out the window and spotted an apple tree in the backyard. She unlatched the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the weathered deck. A gas grill was tipped over and lay in pieces. Careful of sharp edges, she shoved it out of the way and descended the steps. Fruit hung off the tree in large clusters, the sight making her mouth water. The recent fall weather made her crave a crisp, juicy apple, so she was eager to bite into one.
Lindsey had just done so when movement caught her eye. She was shocked to see a single doe dart through the yard across from her. Before she could even think about taking a shot, her gaze was forced skyward as a murder of boisterous crows passed overheard, migrating in the same direction as the deer. With a sinking feeling in her gut, Lindsey turned her head to face the partially open forest across from the development.
"Jesus," she breathed.
Turners stretched as far as the eye could see. She wasn't even sure how she could have missed them in the first place. There had been talk of hordes, but this was ridiculous—she'd never seen so many.
A few stragglers appeared from around the corner of the house only a few yards away. Picking up her rooted feet, she sprinted toward the deck, up the stairs, and ripped open the sliding door. Two turners were right on her heels. She could feel them from the vibrations that rattled the wooden surface. She flung the door closed, snapping it into place right as the turners threw themselves against it. Lindsey let out a yelp of alarm, her hot breath blooming in a burst over the glass surface of the door. It was terrifying to have her face only an inch from that of the living dead and not be bitten. Up close, she could see the clumps of rotted flesh between the turner's teeth, which caused her to grimace in disgust.
Slowly, Lindsey backed away, unsure how long the glass would hold. She bumped into something solid and nearly stopped breathing.
"Are you okay?" Andrew asked, looking over her shoulder at the turners beating on the door.
"Y-yes. Andrew…we have to go," she whispered.
It was obvious that he could see the peril in her eyes. "How many are there?" he asked.
"Too many."
_____
Andrew scowled, his mouth tightening in frustration.
"Dammit!" he said through clenched teeth. He surveyed the room, glimpsing the turners that were sending cracks down the thin glass door. "Okay, the back's not an option. We'll have to try the front. From what you saw, do you think it will be clear?" he asked as he strode in that direction.
Lindsey followed him and said, "It's gonna be close."
They reached the front door and Andrew cracked it just enough to view the street. Turners were already passing through the yard. The cluster nearest to him spotted the open door and advanced up the steps. He quickly slammed it shut and threw the lock. The alarming chorus of their gory, mangled hands pounding against the door pierced the silence within the still house.
Andrew glanced at Lindsey. She appeared as nervous as he felt.
Suddenly, her eyes lit up. "I think I know of another way," she announced, running down the hall in the direction that led them away from the horde. She brought him into a bedroom adorned with pictures of fairies and pink flowers, and pointed to a window over the twin-size bed. "Can we get through there?"
"We're gonna have to," Andrew said, dropping his backpack onto the floor. He stepped up onto the thin mattress, unlocked the window, and lifted it open. A screen still hindered their escape, but he was relieved when it easily snapped out. He peered down to the ground and saw that they were a little higher than he thought they would be. Apparently, this side of the house was on a slope. Either way, it was their only exit—they had to make it work.
Andrew swung a leg out and, once he got a solid grip on the windowsill, followed with the other. After lowering himself so that he hung completely outside, he let go. The joints in his ankles stung as he landed on the grass. The pain was nothing substantial; just another reminder that he was getting too old for this shit.
Lindsey's worried face appeared outside of the window. "Andrew, what about the packs?"
"Leave 'em. We need to move." He held out his arms and motioned to her with his hands. "Come on, I gotcha."
Lindsey duplicated his earlier movements and sunk down far enough for Andrew to grab her legs. She released her hold on the ledge and dropped into his arms.
_____
A few minutes later, Lindsey and Andrew leaned against the vinyl siding of a house halfway up the street. Their cars, which included a new Chevy Camaro, were setting in a driveway within their sight. That morning they'd been searching a garage for batteries and found the Camaro under a tarp, fully-loaded, with a full tank of gas.
The horde was rapidly progressing through the neighborhood. Their moans created an eerie droning sound that got louder as the wind carried it between the houses.
They were running out of time.
"What's the plan?" Lindsey asked as she focused her gaze on Andrew. He didn't look happy with what he was about to tell her.
"I'm gonna take the Camaro…and lead them away," he began.
"Andrew, no!"
"We can't have them following us back to the school. I have to steer them in the opposite direction."
Lindsey continued to shake her head. "I can't go back there without you. What am I supposed to tell Zoey?"
"Tell her I had to do it to protect everyone, including her and Jacob." Andrew dug into his pocket and produced a set of car keys. "Here, you'll need these."
He placed them in her open hand and she grasped his hand within her own. There were a million things she wanted to say to him.
Before she could decide on one, Andrew kissed her on the lips. "I love you," he said fiercely.
Lindsey managed a weak smile. "I love you, too." How could we have gone from this morning, which was pure bliss, to saying it now for, perhaps, the last time?
"Just get to the car and get out of here as fast as you can. I'll cover you. You ready?" Andrew asked, all business now.
Lindsey nodded, but knew she wasn't.
"Let's go."
They turned the corner and dashed to the cars. There was no way they could stay out of view from the horde. Lindsey knew they were exposed and forced herself not to look back. It felt like it took forever to get to the vehicles, when it had only been about twenty seconds. Lindsey went to open the driver-side door of the black sedan, but hesitated when a crack echoed throughout the development. A male turner landed by her feet, dark gore spilling out onto the brick driveway. Her startled gaze shot up. Andrew was
standing by the Camaro, his gun raised.
"Go!" he urged, and fired again.
She made the mistake of looking back. The entire horde was crushing down on them. Andrew was going to run out of bullets if she didn't get her ass in gear. She yanked the door open and slid into the front seat. Her hands shook as she jammed the key inside the ignition. Shifting the car into gear, she tore out of the driveway. Turners impeded the street. She veered onto the grass. She hoped there wasn't anything hidden along the way—the last thing she needed was a damn flat tire.
Finally, the road cleared and she swerved back onto the smooth surface. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she was only slightly relieved when she saw that the horde was moving away. Behind her, she heard the roar of an engine and squealing tires. Sunlight reflected off the silver Camaro, making it appear like a bullet as it burned rubber down the road. She watched the car shrink in her mirror until it completely disappeared.
Lindsey couldn't breathe. It was impossible to try to comprehend what she was doing. Why wasn't she with him? What purpose did she have to go back to the school alone? With a curse, she slammed her hand against the steering wheel.
After over an hour of driving on barren roads, Lindsey sped up to the school, loose gravel churning under the tires. Charlie was on watch and swiftly opened the gate to let her in. She steered the car into the lot and felt her heart rate pick up as she parked by the entrance. Nadie exited the building, Jacob in her arms. Zoey wasn't far behind.
How was she going to do this?
She stepped out of the car and noticed Zoey looking around frantically, her eyes wide. "Where's my dad?"
Charlie jogged up next to her and she could tell he was just as confused as everyone else. He peeked into the car, came up empty, and proceeded to carefully study her face as she spoke.
"He was okay the last time I saw him. We ran into a horde—the biggest one I've ever seen," Lindsey said.
"How big?" Nadie questioned.