Waves of Solace

by Ariel Bonin

  After toasting to their marriage, they each finished a glass and started on a second. Their eyes met over the rim and a silent conversation took place. Andrew set down his drink and crossed the space between them to take her glass and position it next to his. Lindsey's breath caught as he glided his hands gently up her legs to push up the bottom of her dress. She let out a squeak when he lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. His arms held her tight against him as he backed up toward their bedroom. She kissed him fiercely, gripping the back of his neck, her fingers threaded in his hair. The door was ajar, so he pushed through it and eased her back onto the bed when he felt his knees hit the side. Lindsey kicked off her sandals as Andrew braced his arms on either side of her head and continued to kiss her. She began to unbutton his shirt, revealing a muscular chest and dark smattering of hair. She pushed his shirt open, her hands roaming over his taut shoulders to completely remove it.

  After tossing his shirt to the floor, Andrew grasped the hem of her dress where it had bunched around her hips and urged it up her body. She helped him slide the lacy material over her head and immediately went back to kissing him. Her hands caressed his hot skin in fluid strokes, but came to a stop when she felt the bandage on his shoulder blade. Andrew lifted his head and they stared at each other for a few seconds.

  Lindsey imagined they were thinking about the same thing. Without the cure, he would be dead right now and she would be alone with his two kids. This day never would have happened. The thought was so depressing that Lindsey wasted no time making herself forget it. This moment was too special to be ruined by "what ifs."

  "Kiss me," she whispered, pulling his head down to bring their mouths together. His tongue slipped between her lips and enticed wonderful sensations from deep within her core as he kissed her exactly the way she wanted him to. One of his hands slid underneath her back and unsnapped her bra. She shed it from her body and moaned on contact as he pressed his bare chest against her own.

  Eventually Andrew brought himself upright again and started on his belt. He removed everything on his lower half and, as he did this, Lindsey twisted across the mattress to lie back on the downy pillows. Andrew moved over her, slanting his mouth across the curve of each breast. He latched onto her nipple, working it with his tongue and teeth. Lindsey gasped and whimpered as he switched to the other side. Her sounds of satisfaction drove him crazy, not to mention, her skin smelled divine, like the sweet tropical flowers outside.

  "I want you, Andrew. I need you," she pleaded softly, her hands clawing at his back.

  "Slow down, Linds. I told you I was gonna take my time," he answered with a wicked smile. He hooked his fingers into the sides of her underwear and eased it off, letting the silky scrap join the rest of their discarded clothing on the floor. He rubbed his scratchy cheek along the inside of her thighs and dropped open-mouthed kisses on her eager hips.

  Lindsey smiled down at him and bit her lip in anticipation.

  "God, I've wanted you," he groaned harshly, allowing his warm breath to drift across her damp skin. He dipped lower and dragged his tongue over her warm center. Her hips bucked as her back arched. A breathy moan escaped from her parted lips, swollen from his rough kisses. Her trembling fingers ran through his messy hair, grabbing a fistful when he moved to taste her again. The unrelenting pace went on until she was panting and begging, but he had no intention of stopping. She cried out. Andrew always loved the noise she made. It was an octave higher, shameless and completely uncontrolled.

  While his wife lay sated from her release, he nestled his hips between her thighs, lined himself up and thrust deep. Lindsey moaned again, louder this time as the sound ripped from her throat. He gathered her legs around his waist and pushed into her again, this time harder than before.

  Lindsey met his thrusts, her heart slamming in her chest. She touched his cheek and smiled faintly. "You're mine."

  His eyes softened for a moment, and in between breaths he managed to reply, "I'm yours…all of me."

  They made love until Andrew could no longer hold back, forgetting every care as he lost himself in her. Lindsey followed, tumbling over the brink a second time.

  As they fell back onto the tangled sheets, Andrew pulled her into his arms and whispered with absolute reverence, "I love you."

  Lindsey snuggled closer, linking her hand with his as she said, "I love you, too. More than I ever thought possible."

  Chapter 7

  Lindsey gradually opened her eyes, allowing them to adjust to her surroundings. With their tiny bedroom bathed in golden morning light, everything seemed frozen in time as the room remained perfectly still and quiet. In a relaxed fashion, she stretched out her legs under the white sheets. Her back needed a good stretch too, but she didn't want to move for the fact that her husband had his arm circled around her waist, his bare chest to her back. She breathed deeply and let her gaze drop to the nightstand a few feet away. A beam of sunlight cast across her knife in such a way that she could read the words carefully etched into the handle.

  So yesterday was real.

  She thought she had dreamed it. The past twenty-four hours were almost too good to be true. Thinking back to the ceremony, the celebration—God, she loved those people, her family. They'd given her and Andrew something special, and if the world went to hell today—like, more than it already had—she would die happy.

  Andrew's hand brushed the underside of her breast as he awakened from his restful slumber. He inhaled on a yawn and exhaled softly into her messy hair, nuzzling the nape of her neck. She rubbed her backside against his growing arousal and released a sweet sigh when he swept her hair aside to kiss along her shoulder. His hands continued to roam, growing bolder as she arched into his touch. He lifted her left leg over his own, fully exposing her to him. His lean fingers found her wet and ready. He dipped two digits into her slick opening, which earned him a low moan. Eager to be one with her again, he removed his fingers, held her hips steady and allowed himself to be absorbed into her velvet heat.

  An hour later, after making love and simply enjoying some time alone together, the carefree couple decided to get dressed. They were back to their usual wardrobe of boots, jeans and t-shirts. Lindsey watched Andrew adorn his gun belt as she attached her knife to her own belt.

  After freshening up in the bathroom, she met him in the kitchen, where he was waiting for her with a hot cup of tea. She smiled as she accepted it, briefly flashing back to when he'd offered her the same gesture while they stayed at the cabin. She had just suffered through her usual nightmare about Jared, only to have him be replaced by Andrew. Maybe she should have known back then that there was something different about Andrew. Surely she wouldn't have known he'd become her husband, but perhaps identified that they shared a connection on a deeper level, though, she wasn't complaining about the marriage part.

  Lindsey occupied a seat across from Andrew at the small table and watched him sip his steaming instant coffee. Her brain promptly registered how his lips would taste if she kissed him right now. She reached over to grasp his free hand and he brought her soft palm to his lips.

  "Should we get—?" Lindsey began.

  A scream shattered the peaceful morning, making the little hairs on the back of Lindsey's neck stand up straight. It came from nearby, somewhat muffled, but grew louder and more desperate. Andrew and Lindsey launched from their chairs, sloshing tea and coffee onto the wooden tabletop, and pushed through the screen door. The shrieks were coming from a bungalow the next row over. They sprinted down the path, swatting at low-hanging leaves, to arrive in front of Hannah and Bill's place. Nicholas and Kat burst out of their bungalow a few lots down and followed the newlyweds up the steps.

  Lindsey's first assessment showed that Hannah was fighting with someone, then that someone became her father—her dead father. With gray skin and empty, clouded eyes, Bill had taken on full turner form. His solid arms reached for the girl, no longer his daughter, but a food source. Hannah did everything in her power to
keep him at bay, but her small frame put her at a disadvantage. If they hadn't shown up when they did, she wouldn't have stood a chance.

  Nicholas dashed across the room and seized Bill's arms, holding them behind his back. "Get her out of here!" he yelled to Lindsey and Kat. The two women grabbed Hannah and rushed her out of the bungalow, where the girl proceeded to collapse into a fit of tears on the front steps.

  _____

  Meanwhile, as Nicholas restrained Bill, Andrew armed himself with his knife. Holding the side of Bill's head, he forcefully stabbed the blade into the dead man's ear. While unpleasant, it was the best way to put down a fresh turner because the skull hadn't decayed enough to easily go through the top. Bill's body sagged and the men guided him to the floor. Andrew stood and removed a rag from his back pocket to wipe the blood from his knife, then threw it in the trash. After replacing his knife, he knelt down next to Nicholas.

  Andrew remained silent as he observed Bill's body. What had made the man turn? He suspected that suicide was involved, but how? He checked the arms and legs for anything obvious, then the torso, neck and head. Nothing presented itself, so his best guess was that the damage occurred internally. Standing again, he peered around the room. It looked well-kept, presumably by Hannah, apart from a lantern smashed to pieces on the floor; another victim of the struggle. He moved to Bill's bedroom, the door wide open, inviting him inside. He walked across more broken glass, reminiscent of the last time he'd been there. Squatting down, he spotted an orange plastic bottle and lifted it from where it hid beneath the untidy bed. The prescription bottle did not list Bill's name—it was probably scavenged from a medicine cabinet on the mainland—but one word did catch his attention: Temazepam. It was known as a strong sleep aide and had the statement 'do not consume alcohol while taking this drug' printed on the side. Andrew's gaze dropped to the various liquor containers around him.

  Clutching the empty pill bottle in an unsteady hand, he left the bedroom and stalked out onto the porch. Lindsey glanced up at him with sad eyes, seeking an answer for Bill's sudden death. Andrew showed her the bottle, and Kat, who sat on the other side of Hannah, shook her head.

  He felt the same way. Bastard. How dare he leave his daughter to fend for herself. Yes, Bill had experienced something horrible, but they all had—it didn't mean it was time to opt out—it was time to ask for help. Andrew had offered his and he probably should have tried harder, but Bill was a grown man. He had responsibilities like everybody else and a daughter who needed him more than ever. The painful memory of Hank and his terrible demise would never go away, but it would lessen over time with the help from the family and friends who still remained. What really got to Andrew though was the way Bill had done it. If he was that keen on taking his own life, he should have ended it—a bullet to the brain would have been ideal. But to leave himself to turn and possibly impart the same fate on his daughter was beyond stupid—it was fucking selfish.

  Andrew took a step toward the three women, the youngest in his sights. Hannah's strawberry blonde hair hung in a glossy sheet over her face. He laid a hand on her trembling shoulder and she lifted her head, revealing red-rimmed eyes and wetness blotting her cheeks. Grudgingly, he moved the clear prescription bottle into her view.

  "Where'd he get the sleeping pills, Hannah?"

  The girl convulsed, her mouth gaping on a quiet sob that racked her entire body. "Oh- oh, my God…what have I done?" she cried.

  Lindsey rubbed her back and shot Andrew a glance of concern. "Hannah, what are you talking about? Did you get him the pills?"

  Hannah nodded through her anguish. "I did. He was having trouble sleeping so I got them from the clinic. I thought they would help, I thought—" She burst into tears again, clearly recognizing her fatal mistake.

  Lindsey continued to console her by wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. "You couldn't have known, honey. Like you said, you were trying to help. You did nothing wrong."

  "But my dad's dead because of me!"

  Andrew stepped around Kat and knelt on the steps to hold Hannah's watery gaze. "He would have found another way. Deep down, I think you know that, too. He was hurting and wouldn't let any of us get through to him. There's no excuse for what he did, but the last thing you should do is blame yourself—it's what brought him to this point."

  At that moment, more people showed up, likely drawn in by the commotion. The group included Brian, Tommy and Zoey.

  "Hannah, what happened?" Zoey exclaimed as she hurried toward the weeping young woman.

  Andrew halted her by pressing a hand to her shoulder. "Give her some space. Her dad died…and then attacked her."

  "How?" Zoey asked. "Did he get sick?"

  You could say that. Andrew contemplated how to put this without making a scene or going into a long life lesson with his daughter. "We think he drank too much and his body shut down." Not exactly a lie.

  As Zoey absorbed this, Andrew enfolded her into his arms and observed Brian approaching them.

  "Did Bill…?" the man asked, making a subtle cutthroat gesture with his hand. Slowly, Andrew nodded. Brian squeezed his eyes shut as he blew out a quiet breath. "We have a spot we can bury him—there's a grove on the west side of the island. It's…peaceful."

  Zoey turned out of her father's embrace with a deep frown. "Other people have died here?"

  Brian shrugged sadly. "Even we're not immune to loss. We've had some of the elderly folk pass away from more natural causes—cancer, heart attack and such, but the first one was a rude awakening. We didn't know then what we know now." Andrew knew he was referring to the fact that they all carried the TurnerCorp infection and could reanimate after death, even without a bite wound. "We lost three that day, including Eleanor…the girl who had the antibodies for the cure. By the time we found them, it was useless…" he said, pausing for a moment. "We had one man drown, and another like our friend Bill." Andrew appreciated that he didn't say it. After a few incidents in the beginning, Zoey was no stranger to suicide, but this wasn't the place for prying questions. "We lost a few more at the beginning and we've learned from our mistakes, but it was a heavy price to pay…"

  Based on the look eclipsing Brian's weary face, Andrew believed there was more to that story.

  _____

  Lindsey braced Jacob on her hip and held Hannah's hand as they watched Nicholas, Andrew, Charlie and Brian lower Bill's body into the ground. He was shrouded in a dark sheet, his pale face and final wound withheld from sight. The men shifted away from the six-foot opening and Lindsey tightened her grip. Hannah's tear-streaked cheeks and tired eyes remained solemn and composed until Brian and Charlie each picked up a shovel and began filling in the grave—her face contorted and bottom lip quivered.

  "Daddy," she whimpered.

  The agony in her voice tugged at Lindsey's heartstrings, flooding the woman's eyes with unshed tears. Only twenty-four hours before she had begged for her own father. Although his death took place some time ago, their group's nonstop losses kept it fresh in her mind. While she thought it wrong of Bill to inflict this pain on Hannah, she understood the want for an end. She couldn't judge because she, too, had been there—in the pharmacy moments before Andrew found her, and then again on the factory floor when she was choked to within an inch of her life. She hadn't told Andrew but she'd considered it once more after their attack on that ill-fated, moonlit night. She missed the people from her previous life, but it was the people in this life who had kept her from making any careless decisions. Never would she deliberately bring that kind of heartache on Andrew.

  At that instant, he and Lindsey traded a somber look and her brown eyes softened at the heaven-sent vision of her husband. Hannah slipped out of Lindsey's grasp and walked to the edge of her father's grave. As the sheet became obscured underneath a disarray of red soil, the girl dropped in her handful of colorful flowers. She lingered there, frozen with grief, until Lindsey took her hand again and pulled her into a hug. A swift breeze blew through the palms trees, swi
rling Hannah's copper hair with Lindsey's blonde locks. They looked up to the sky to see dark clouds swallow the bright sunlight, dropping the tiny cemetery into shadows.

  Chapter 8

  The rain began that night. Drizzles on the windowpane gave way to a pelting of heavy droplets. Strong winds blew the rain in sheets, making for a restless sleep. Lindsey opened her eyes at the sound of Andrew moving around their room. She heard the clink of his belt and the rustle of his shirt. She could just make out his plaid button-up through the dim first light.

  "Are you going out?" she asked, sitting upright in shock. Andrew sighed in the darkness and settled himself on the edge of the bed. "You are, aren't you? Andrew, it sounds crazy out there—I can't imagine what it looks like out on the water."

  "I'm just gonna meet the guys at the dock. We'll make a decision from there," he said as he brushed a wavy strand behind her shoulder.

  "I still don't like it," she whispered, pulling him into a hug.

  Andrew dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder, and then one more on her pursed lips. "Don't worry about me. I'll be careful."

  Lindsey looked into his shining eyes as worry gnawed at her insides. When she saw that he wasn't going to change his mind about this one, she clenched her jaw and lowered her gaze. "I guess I'll see you for dinner."

  "You will. I promise." He kissed her once more. "I love you."

  As if on cue, a gust of wind made their tiny bungalow creak. Lindsey blinked away the dampness in her eyes and said, "I love you, too."

  _____

  When Lindsey got to school later that morning, the kids in her Advanced class were animated as they chatted about the weather, Zoey included. She wished she could share their enthusiasm but, unfortunately, was too worried about Andrew. He hadn't returned, therefore it was her understanding that he was out in the fishing boat at that very moment. At the thought, another tendril of anxiety turned her stomach and she forced it down.