“You might even be better than her” I say, hyping her up. She’s so cute.
“Nobody can be better than her. She is my most favoritest in the whole wide world. She has a song called Shake it off, and it is my best dance song ever” she says. I smile at that. I’m not too familiar with Taylor Swift, but I know she’s a good role model for little girls.
When they come out a few minutes later, Brooke’s hand is wrapped, and they all look like they’ve been laughing.
“You can hide here until they leave, but then you’d better leave” he says. I’m unsure if it was a threat or a warning.
“What’s your name mister?” Peyton asks suddenly. We all turn to look at the little girl.
"I've had a rough one too. Lost my daughter, and my wife already. Those dead ones are taking over. Oh, and I’m Bill" he says, answering Peyton’s question. I feel the sadness. It's like a thick layer of melancholy has blanketed the room.
"Thank you for your generosity sir" I say, my lip trembling, as I take the empty plate from him. He smiles encouragingly, before turning to fill it with rice. I look down thankfully, before he hands me a fork, and I sit down at his table. We sit there, and he sits with us.
“Do you like gumbo?” he asks the room at large. He looks like he wants to smile, but something stops him. Maybe, he’s unable to after losing his family.
“What happened… to your family mister?” Peyton asks suddenly. I almost cringe at how personal it is. Bill stops mid bite.
“Well, we were out grocery shopping, when the riot started. My wife died first” he explains. I begin to picture the scene as it plays out in my head.
“She got trampled by all the people. I remember reaching for her, but when there are dozens of people, you just… you can’t do a damn thing” he says, his voice thick with tears. He pauses for a moment. Aimlessly, pushing his food around with his fork, Bill doesn’t meet our eyes.
“Then we were almost home, when my car got hit. I had to run home. I had to carry her because she was hurt. She was hurt so bad” he says, his voice like a thousand knives on my skin.
“She passed just after I got her home. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew a funeral home wasn’t an option, so I buried her. I made her a pretty little grave in her favorite spot to play” he says, his voice shaking with tears. He points out the back window. I follow his finger. There in the back of the yard, I can see a freshly disturbed mound of dirt. I can see the sun shining down on it, the flowers of every color surrounding it. I feel my own tears now.
“I just miss them so much” he cries, as we sit there awkwardly. Peyton gets up then and walks over to Bill. She gives him a big hug. He eventually stops crying, but we’re left with an awkward silence.
At first, it's weird. The silence lingers, but as Peyton begins to loosen up, so does the atmosphere.
“So, are you folks from here?” Bill asks after Peyton succeeds in making him smile.
“Peyton and I live over in Chipley, but they live a few hours away” Brooke says, taking a small bite of her gumbo.
“You don’t like the food?” he asks her, noticing her still full plate. Brooke looks embarrassed. Her long brown hair is pulled away from her face, so I can see how red it is.
“It’s very good thank you. I just… I don’t usually eat… I’m a…” she says, trying to answer him, but she’s a stammering mess.
“She’s a veterinarian mister Bill” Peyton says. I look at Brooke curiously. She’s way too young to be a vet, and why would that stop her from eating gumbo?
“Peyton it’s vegetarian. What did we learn? I spent hours teaching you those words last week” Brooke says, a smile lighting up her face.
“Oh, I’m so sorry my dear” Bill says, his face falling a little.
“No, don’t be. It’s the apocalypse. I’m gonna have to eat meat, or I’m not gonna make it long” she laughs, but I can see the sadness in her eyes.
“I’m sorry Auntie Brooke” Peyton says sheepishly. I feel bad for the little girl. She looks so disappointed in herself.
“Do you want to play a thumb war?” Brooke asks her suddenly, no doubt trying to cheer her up.
“Fine, but I’m gonna beat you this time” Peyton says, an evil grin crossing her young face.
“Beat you” Brooke exclaims seconds later. Peyton makes an angry noise.
“I’m gonna beat you, even if it take seven million games” she says stiffly, before they start again, I smile at their battle of epic proportions.
"Do you mind if I talk to you in the garage?" Paul asks me, drawing me away from the thumb war.
“I’ll go check on our friends outside” Bill says, getting up from the table. I follow Paul to the garage door.
"What is it?" I ask him, as I close the door behind me. I feel my stomach sink slightly, as he steps toward me. He looks at my expression, before halting. I can tell he is bothered by my reaction.
"Is that really how I make you feel?" he asks, his voice full of distaste. I shake my head, taking the next step. Even though it hurts, I can't let him hurt so I comfort him. I lie. I touch his arm, and he doesn't flinch, he doesn't shove me away, but he tenses. It's painful, but that's not important to me. His feelings are though.
"I'm hurt by memories, and you can't change that, but I don't hate you. I want everything to be okay between us. I just need time. Can you give me that?" I ask. He nods, before doing something. He pulls me to him and wraps his arms tightly around me.
I can smell him. His scent fills my nose and my mind at the same time. I close my eyes longingly. It lingers between us. The smell of the salty breeze. The smell of a summer day at the beach. I can feel him breathing, but he hugs me. It feels strange, like a dream. He finally breaks away, but the moment lingers. The moment is not forgotten. It stays with me, adding to the long list of why I will always love him, through everything. I will always remember the moments like this, when he feels like the best friend he used to be, when he feels like the one.
SIXTEEN
“What did you want to talk about?” I ask him suddenly. He looks around, as if to make sure nobody is listening
“I wanna try to bring him with us” he says simply. He looks as if he’s expecting me to argue. I don’t.
“I think so too. He’s too nice to leave behind, and he seems really useful” I say. We talk about it for a minute but decide to head back inside.
I look at him one more time, trying to bring the moment with me. He smiles, before turning to head back inside. I'm left alone to ponder the hug. I analyze it, mulling it over continuously in my mind. Replaying it in slow motion. I try to remember how it felt, how great he smelled. I close my eyes, begging my mind not to forget. I then force everything away, and head back inside as well. Paul is standing just outside of the garage, when I come into the house.
"Well they're gone now, so I was thinking we could head out in a few minutes, so we can be sure they really left." Paul says, as soon as he sees me enter the room. I move to stand just to his right, and then turn to survey his expression. I've grown so accustomed to his expressions, that I can decipher nearly all of them. He starts to speak, but I don't hear a single word, as I space off. I'm so intent on looking at his lips moving. I can see his facial hair starting to grow back. I also see his eyes.
Those light blue eyes. The ones I used to lose myself in. The ones that always seem so warm. I remember even at his lowest moments; his eyes were alight with fire. His eyes are darker now, as if they've lost some of the life they used to house. They're different somehow. Unfamiliar, cold even. Then I realize what the strange intruder is. It's fear. He's scared. He seemed pretty held together last night, but now that I'm looking at him, I can see how scared he is. He seems under control, but underneath, panic is darkening his being. It's spreading within him, and even though I see it, I know there's nothing I can do to help him. He wouldn't let me that close now anyway.
"Well, I want you guys to take something with you, so you can at least defend yourselv
es" Bill says. I look at him, appalled by his words. He isn't coming with us? What in the world is he going to do? He is here, all alone, and with nobody to watch his back.
"Aren't you coming with us Mr. Bill?" Peyton asks, catching his words along with me. I turn to face him as well. He looks at us sadly, his smile fading quickly. I can see his answer. He moves over to Peyton, before squatting down to look her right in the eye.
"I'm gonna stay behind and keep my home as long as I can baby, but I want you guys to get back home too. You guys are gonna do great, okay?" he says, his eyes filling with tears, as he gives the little girl a hug. She seems to sense the hopelessness of the situation. She pulls away, and I can see the tears running down her cheeks.
“Come on Bill. You have to come with us. We could really use the help. You would be safer with us” Paul says, his voice filled with pleading.
“I’m sorry son, but I gotta stay here with my baby girl. I won’t leave her behind. I won’t leave my home” he says with finality.
"But won't the sick ones get you, if you stay?" Peyton asks, her voice cracking half-way through. He doesn't answer. He doesn't say a single word, but his face, the expression set on his aged face is enough. It comes down from nowhere, and the weight seems impossible.
"We should get going guys. I don't really see any sense in waiting anymore" Paul says, his frown prominent on his ashen face. I look to Paul, and I can see his hesitation, his reluctance to leave Bill behind. A movement stirs my gaze, and I watch as Bill disappears into a room. Moments later he returns, and hands Paul a gun. It's one of the small ones, the ones that you see in movies.
"Well you guys be safe out there, and may you last a long damn time" he says, a smile forming on his face. I feel a lump growing in my throat. I can't believe he's staying here to just give up. We're letting him kill himself essentially by letting him stay behind.
"Well I guess this is goodbye then" Paul says, his voice heavy, as he reaches forward, taking Bill's hand. We stand there another few minutes, nobody willing to let the goodbye become real. Then, we finally jump back to the inevitable. I smile sadly at the man who just fed us, and gave us a means of defense, then I head out the door.
Paul backs out of the garage, and then puts the car into park. Bill walks to the window, and looks at us all one last time, before waving, and stepping away from the car.
“Are you sure you won’t come with us?” I say, trying one last time. I know it won’t work. We’ve been trying for several minutes now.
“No, I’m gonna stay here. You guys need to get out of here though, before those people come back” he says, his eyes solemn.
Paul backs out of the driveway, as Bill stands there on his porch, just watching us leave. The sun is much lower in the sky now, as we drive out of the quiet neighborhood.
"Where are we going now?" Peyton asks, as we pull onto the highway. The car is silent. We're all scared, and sad about Bill. I'm constantly looking around, and just waiting for the next gunshot. I feel myself shaking, but I try to hide it. Paul reaches for his radio, but then relinquishes, thinking better of the decision. I take the initiative and turn it on.
"I think music would be good right now" I say, my voice hoarse. It's a tense atmosphere right now. I lean against the window and close my eyes. I savor the cool glassy surface against my temple.
We drive for a while; nobody speaks a word. I close my eyes, and just picture myself back in my room. My cat laying on my lap, as I watch my favorite television shows. It's very alluring. We turn suddenly, and I open my eyes to find myself on the interstate. Paul is still driving, but the surroundings have changed. Night has fallen upon the trees, and the buildings are gone. Every few hundred feet, I see a few straggling infected.
"How close are we? I have to pee" Peyton says suddenly, splitting the silence down the middle. Suddenly everything bursts, and I feel weight leaving my stomach. The atmosphere feels so much lighter.
"Only about twenty minutes' left, okay?" he asks, and I see a small smile on the edge of his lips. I do something at that moment. Something I wouldn't have had the courage to do yesterday. Something so brave, I wonder how I managed to ever do it.
I reach for his hand, and when he doesn't relinquish, I grip it tightly. I feel him tense, and I see him look at me from the corner of his eye, but then I see him look back at the road, and then to my utter shock, he grips my hand in return. I look out the window, just trying to make it not weird, but something seems to have shifted.
Something seems so different. He's holding my hand. He is literally holding my hand right now. I feel so giddy at this moment, and it does wonders for my stress. I sit up straighter, and just hold onto his hand, as if it were my lifeline. Paul never pulls away, and I feel so much love, and so much trust there. Two days ago, he would've freaked out on me. I turn to face the road, as he turns to the right, and I see that we're entering the rest area that we aimed for. I look at the navigation and see that we will follow this road for eight miles, and then we will turn into the actual rest area. We're almost there. I relax, as he speeds up. I can't wait to stretch my legs and get a snack.
The song changes, and Paul lets go of my hand to change the station, until he stops on something he approves of. Something that almost makes me cringe, but I forget about it, when he willingly reaches out, and takes my hand again. He grips it tightly, and pulls it closer to him, before turning back to the road. He initiated the contact. He initiated holding my hand. I never thought this would happen again. I thought it was over, that we would never be this close, this intimate again.
"Oh my gosh. I have to pee really bad." Peyton pipes up, shattering the moment going on between us. Paul smiles, before turning slightly to look at Peyton. I smile, as he interacts with the little girl before us.
"We'll be there in five minutes. You'll be okay" he says, and then speeds up a bit more. He drops my hand at that moment, and grips the wheel with both hands, but the moment is permanent. He wanted to hold my hand. That was his decision. That is everything to me, and that is all I've wanted from him ever since October. For him to want me. For him to want me completely. For him to try again.
I smile, as I turn to face my window. The moment may be over, but it was such a big moment. A moment I will remember until the day I die. A moment that will go down as one of the best of my life.
"Fine, but if we don't get there soon, then I'm peeing in your seat Paul" she says, her voice full of sass. I love her personality. I smile, as we approach our destination. I look at the navigation screen and see that we only have two miles left of this road. I'm just about to grab my phone, when he reaches for my hand again.
I let him take it and feel him rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand. I let him hold me, even if it is just my hand. I feel weightless. It may be a small gesture, but it is literally everything to me.
"We're here" he says, as the lights become visible. I smile over at him, as he parks in front of the big building. We made it.
SEVENTEEN
We come to a stop in front of the rest area, as the thought of his hand touching me fills my mind again. Not even five minutes ago we were holding hands, and somehow that's everything. Somehow that is the most important thing to me. Paul opens the door, and hops to his feet. I follow suit, and groan in relief, as blood rushes to my ankles. I look around and see that the place is completely empty. It looks as if we are completely alone for now. Not a single infected in sight. For some reason the thought unsettles me. I turn away from the parking lot and see that there is a single car on the far side of the parking lot, but it's empty. A feeling of fear fills my stomach, as we walk to the door. Luckily, it's unlocked, so we head right inside. I look to Paul and see with a smile that he looks happy. I wonder if it has anything to do with us holding hands. I shake my head angrily. I'm thinking too much about it, and it's only going to make it worse, when he pushes me away again. I make everything into a big deal. I over-dramatize every situation, and I need to stop.
"I'm going
to the bathroom. I'll be back soon" Peyton pipes up, cutting the silence with her chipper voice.
Paul opens the door to the girl’s bathroom, heading inside. The door closes briefly, but he comes out seconds later. Giving Peyton the go ahead, he comes back into the hall.
I watch as Peyton crosses the lobby and enters the bathroom. We're left in silence again, so I turn to observe the surrounding room before us.
Movement catches my eye, but it's just Paul heading in the direction of the bathroom. I want to follow him, to make sure he's okay. I want to, but I know it would bother him. I turn away and begin to look for a vending machine. None catch my eye, but there has to be one, here right?
"I'll be back Brooke" I say, before wandering off into the silence. I turn a corner and find myself alone. The building goes back further than I expected. A light flickers above me, and I look around alarmed. That's when I see the vending machine. I go to cross the room, and almost trip over something. After barely catching my balance, I turn and see a stuffed animal on the floor. It's covered in blood.
I look around nervously, before continuing on to the machine. I stand before it, and see it is full of snacks. I pull a dollar out of my wallet and turn to the soda machine. I'd love a drink right now. I insert the bill and choose the Dr. Pepper. The noise sounds like a gunshot in the silence, but soon the drink is delivered, and I stoop to pick it up. At that moment, a noise causes me to whip around. Brooke is standing there.
"I thought I heard something and was making sure you were okay" she says, but I'm still recovering from the alarm. She scared me.
"Did you hear it too?" she asks, and I look around.
"I didn't hear anything, but this place is seriously giving me the creeps." I say, just as Peyton comes around the corner with Paul. They look at me, and Paul smiles. I look away, before, opening my drink. I take a deep swig of it, and the cold carbonated drink feels so good on my throat.
We Are The Hunted (Book 1): We Are The Hunted Page 11