“Are you sure?” Paul asks dubiously. Doubt drips from every word, as he vocalizes my inner misgivings. Dan just nods, not granting us an answer this time. Then it’s time to go. Paul helps me onto the tailgate, and I crawl under the tarp.
At first, I think he’ll leave me alone under the tarp, but he crawls in and lays down beside me. I feel the warmth of his body, as he presses against me. It’s a tight fit because of all the supplies in here too. Paul wraps an arm around me protectively, as he reaches with his other arm to pull the tarp back over the supplies, hiding us from the eyes of anyone who looks into the bed.
I look at him, his blue eyes shining in the semi-darkness. He is looking directly at me. I know he must be thinking about my impending death, my approaching doom. I want to reach out, to touch his face. I want to tell him everything I ever felt about him. I want to spin out the best poem ever written, but I’ve never been good with words, or writing.
“Paul, I…” I begin, but he puts a finger over my lips. I hear the truck roar to life then, the engine much louder than Paul’s. I lurch into him, when the truck jumps forward. He pulls me to him then. We’re moving. Here we go. This has to work because if it doesn’t then we won’t be saying goodbye. If this doesn’t work, then we will all be gone today.
“I love you” I tell him then, before he can stop me. He takes a deep breath, holding me even tighter. I begin to cry again. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to miss his life. I want to see him grow old, to see him reach all of his goals. I know that the future he wanted will never happen now that the government has fallen, but I want to see whatever future he has.
“I love you too. I love you so much Ben” he tells me, his words coated with love, sprinkled with sadness. I pull away then, unable to take the contact anymore. I don’t want to spend my last hours crying the whole time. I want to talk to him. I want to know everything, every single detail. I want to memorize him; I want to memorize everything that makes me love him. Everything that makes him Paul.
“How have you been the last few months Paul?” I ask him, finally breaching the topic I’ve been avoiding since our reconciliation. Continuing the conversation, we started, when we were at Cindy’s house. He stiffens, my fingertips resting against his stomach, as he takes another deep breath. I know he doesn’t want to answer.
“I’ve been working, doing school, and hanging out with my family. I…” he trails off, and I wonder for the first time if he had been with someone else. Did he think about me? I’m sure he did, but did he really think about me?
“I… came out to my family. I know they heard the rumors, the crap, the drama that went on, but I officially came out to them” he explains, and I flinch. I was not expecting that. I always assumed he’d never come out. I did back in high school. It wasn’t a big deal for me.
“Paul that’s amazing” I tell him, knowing in my bones that this would have changed our futures. He’s out, I’m out. Nothing can come between us now, but guess what? I’m about to die. How freaking fun.
“Yeah, my dad was great about it. He told me, as long as I still give him grandkids, he doesn’t care who I love. He asked me if you were my boyfriend. Then I had to tell him everything that happened between us with the break up, and he actually yelled at me. He told me he was ashamed of my sister for what she did, and he said you did what anyone would do” Paul tells me, and at first I’m mortified, but as his words continue, I find my stomach is soaring. His dad took my side, even if Paul took longer to see the same thing, I have someone on my side. I have someone who doesn’t think I’m a complete psycho. Too bad I didn’t know this before I got bitten by an infected monster.
“What about your mom?” I ask him, my voice filled with pain. He looks away, not meeting my gaze. I wonder if he feels guilty for not being on my side. I wonder if he blames himself for the time we spent apart. I hope not because even though I’m glad he forgave me I was at fault. I deserved everything I got. I deserved every word, every tear that happened.
“She took it a little harder. She was fine with it, but she tried to convince me to keep it low-key” he explains, and my stomach sours. His mom must be one of those people. She’s fine with her son being gay, just as long as nobody else knows. I personally think that’s almost as bad as not accepting your kid at all.
I push my personal feelings aside because they don’t matter anymore. I’ll never see any of them ever again. Why should I judge them? They love their son, they care for him, and they accept him for who he was born to be, at least his mom didn’t abandon him for drugs. I have to push the bitterness down again, as I steer the conversation into a different direction.
“How’s college?” I ask him, my voice a little too chipper for the mood. I can feel the bite on my arm pulsing, the infection spreading. I’m freezing. My stomach is upset now. I can feel the sweat clinging to my forehead. Paul seems to notice the same thing because he closes his eyes, before answering.
“Boring, you know I hate it” he says simply, his voice filled with pain. I laugh then. I remember before we started our very different bachelor programs, we took every class we could together. I have a memory then, and I let it take me over. I let the memory wrap itself around me and blanket me with him.
I walk down the hallway, the Beatles song ringing loudly in my ears. Coming to the classroom door, I head right inside. Paul is sitting there in the front row. I can tell he’s distracted, as I sit down beside him. Smiling over, I reach for his arm. He jumps at the touch, and whips around. I laugh, as his eyes find me. His face softens.
“What are you doing?” I ask him, pulling out my printed paper that’s due today. It’s been done for weeks. Paul looks down at it and scoffs in irritation. I smile at his annoyance. That’s when I notice his desk. I laugh softly.
He’s trying to cram for our test today, but his study guide is a complete mess. I look down at the mess of scratched out words, scribbled answers, and the rumpled look that tells me he threw it a time or two. I look down at mine.
“Here, trade with me” I tell him, handing him my organized, highlighted, and cleanly written study guide. I tuck his mess of a paper under my arm, before turning back to him lovingly. He smiles at me, his face still tight with annoyance.
“I’m just not good at this. I hate science. It’s boring” he explains. I know he’s more of a history person. Which is funny because that’s the most boring thing to me. I can’t stand history. I reach under the table and grab his hand. He grips it back.
I turn my paper in with my quiz, knowing it’s a B- study guide, but I got a perfect score on the test. I move to the door, before turning to wait for Paul. He’s still busy with the test, so I wait outside for him. It takes a while.
“How did you do?” I ask him, as his gorgeous face comes out of the room. He looks at me, his eyebrows knitted together in frustration. I hope he did well with my study guide. He’s about to answer, when the scene begins to fade into nothingness.
“Ben are you there?” Paul asks me, pulling me from the memory. I realize with terror, that I was hallucinating a scene from the past. I was dozing off. Is it that advanced already? I look around, as the truck goes over a bump. We are still under the tarp. We are not in the hallway of our Chemistry class. We are not fine. We are not safe. We are in danger, as usual. I am about to die. To be extinguished.
“Yeah, I was just remembering when I let you turn in and use my chemistry study guide for the final” I tell him, and he actually laughs aloud. I wonder if he remembers it as clearly as I do. I’m sure he doesn’t. I’ve always been too into him. I always cared more.
“I remember that. I still got a C on my final, but I got a perfect grade on the paper. You were always so good at science” he says, his voice trailing off, as his mind goes somewhere far away. I want to say something, but he seems so distracted. I let him wander for a few minutes. My eyes start to grow heavy again, but this time I push the memories away.
I can’t succumb yet, not when we are this close togethe
r. Not when he has no way to escape me. I’ll end up killing him. I could not handle something so horrible, so tragic. I force my eyes open, pinching my arm painfully. The memories fade away then. I force them away easier now. Paul turns back to me.
I’m just about to ask him where he went, when the first gunshot rings out. I jump at the sound, and Paul clings to me. I savor the touch, as the second gunshot rings out. I feel myself shaking now. I know I’m about to die, so it shouldn’t matter, but I don’t want him to die. The third gunshot penetrates the roar of the engine, but this time the bullet finds the box right beside my head. I hear a can of something explode, as the bullet rings true.
As the gunshots continue, I realize there is something I do want to do, before I die, before we both die. I lean up and press my lips to Paul’s. The shots are still loud against us, but slightly less so, as I press my lips to the mouth, I know so well.
He kisses me back, his body hungrily pressing against mine. The shots continue. I’m not sure who is shooting who, and I don’t care at this point. My life is forfeit, but right now I have him. He pulls me closer, and I feel the pain of the bite as he does so, but I ignore it. We continue to kiss, our lips moving over each other like waves in the ocean. We stay there in that moment. I close my eyes, when the next gunshot assaults my ears. I try to pretend they don’t exist.
“I love you” he says, when he breathlessly pulls away from the kiss. I look into his eyes and wish I could lose myself in them. I wish more than anything that I could stay, to see them a little longer. Just a few more years.
I notice then that the gunshots have stopped. We are left alone in silence then, the roar of the engine the only noise. I just look at Paul, as we silently take each other in. I use the opportunity to memorize every detail of his face, every inch of his skin, every color in his eyes. Every strand of hair, as it falls in his face. I memorize every single molecule.
“I love you too” I tell him simply, the words are hollow, they don’t even touch what I feel for him. They don’t explain anything. I find myself wishing for a second time that I was better with words. I push the envy away, as the truck finally pulls to a stop. I stay where I am, unsure of what is going on.
“What is happening?” Paul wonders aloud, but I stay there rooted to the spot. That was really quick. That didn’t feel long enough. Something feels off. Why did we stop so soon? I stiffen, when I hear the tailgate being put down. Are we about to be murdered? The bite on my arm aches again. Then the tarp is pulled off of us. I sit up then, when I see Dan looking down at us. His face is strained.
“What happened?” I demand, as I struggle to my feet. We are in a big warehouse of some kind, and the large garage doors are just closing, when I hop to the ground. I nearly fall, but Dan reaches over and steadies me. I look around and see with relief that the other two cars are here too. We didn’t get separated. That’s when I realize something is very wrong. We shouldn’t have stopped here. I turn to Dan, ignoring the feeling of unimaginable exhaustion, covering my body slowly. Part of me knows that my body is shutting down, but I ignore that.
THIRTY
I stand there in the middle of what looks like an abandoned mechanic shop, my legs are shaking slightly from the effort it takes to stand on them at this point. I look around, as Paul comes to stand beside me. Everyone is here, everyone is safe for now, and everyone is gathered around Dan, waiting for any indication of what to do now that we’re here.
“Why did we stop here? I thought we were going to drive a lot further…” Thomas asks, getting the hard questions out of the way. Dan looks as if he may slap Thomas.
“We were gettin’ shot at boy. What did you think was gonna happen?” he demands, anger on his face. I look down, my stomach rising a little.
“Where are we even?” Riley asks suddenly, her soft voice sharp with something I can’t place. I feel myself slipping away, but I have to hold on a little longer. I have to stay awake, alive for just a few more hours. As long as I know they are safe, I can die in peace. I notice then, as her words float in the air that she is looking directly at me now.
“We’re in a place that I used to own, before my… before I started working at the grocery store. They hopefully didn’t see us come in here. Maybe we can hide out, until they give up” he explains, his optimism falling just short of his eyes. His face matches his words, but his eyes look worried.
“Well we should probably check this place for weapons, or hiding places, or even make sure there aren’t any of those things here with us” Chase says suddenly, looking at me, as he checks the corners of the room, as if infected will emerge from the shadows. I smile in spite of the situation because it’s amusing how good a leader he is. He’s such a natural.
“That’s a good idea. Let’s split up. Hurry though because we need to be hidden before they decide to hunt us down” Dan says, waving us all off in opposite directions. I automatically go to follow Paul, but Emily comes slowly over to beside me. I can tell she wants to talk to me about something, so I motion for Paul to wait for me. Emily turns to me then, her face stretched with pain. I wonder how she’s doing.
“How’s the pain?” I ask her, my own voice sounding weak. She doesn’t know that I’m fading, but she doesn’t need to right now either.
“It hurts, a lot. I wanted to talk to you because I know you’ve been having a hard time” she explains, and I feel my insides melt. I love my best friend. I always knew she was the best friend I ever met.
“Are you going to be okay though? I’m sure you’re in a lot of pain” I say, not knowing what alternative she has. All I know is I wish there was some way to tuck them all in my pocket, to protect them all from the forces working against us. She nods, reaching out to take my hand comfortingly.
“If… if something happens to me… Ben I want you to find my family. Please tell them what happened. Please promise me that if I… if I die, then you’ll let them know not to wait up hoping for me to show up” she pleads, tears filling her eyes. I know she’s worried she’s about to die, but my fate is confirmed. I am for sure dying, and I feel like now should be when I tell her. I should tell her goodbye now.
“Emily, I’m not… I can’t…” I begin, my voice shaking, my eyes flooding with tears. She just pulls me in, hugging me tightly. We stand there, together. She then pulls back, looking into my eyes. There is love, unwavering love there. She has always been such a light in my life.
“I’ll do the same for you, but let’s hope neither of us has to. Be safe. I love you Ben” she says, hugging me once more. Then she hobbles painfully over to sit on the tailgate of Dan’s truck. I stare sadly after Riley, as she disappears down the hall. I turn to Paul. Tears are in his eyes as well. We both know this terrible secret, the secret that will break the people I love. I walk over to him.
He wraps an arm around me, as if to support me, as we walk down the other hall. As we move forward, I look out of the windows, waiting for the moment when our hunters come into view. We come to a stop at the stairwell, and I follow him inside. Paul holds my hand, as we make our way up the stairs.
When we make it to the second floor, my breath is short, coming in wheezy gasps. Paul seems to notice because he avoids my eyes. I look around and see that Thomas and Ryan are already checking this floor, so I motion Paul to follow me to the third floor. It’s even worse now. I’m already out of breath, so by the time we make it to the empty third floor, I’m pouring down with sweat, and I’m about to pass out.
“Stay with me love. Please don’t leave me yet” Paul says, his voice even, but pained. He’s towing me along, as it becomes harder and harder to take each step. Something seems to have shifted. My limbs are too heavy now. My head is lolling. It’s time.
A loud bang sounds from above, and both of our heads snap around. I look for any indication of what could have made the sound, as Paul steps defensively in front of me. Why would he waste his life protecting me, when I’m already dead? I stumble, as he continues to protect me. We are walking slo
wly, trying to quietly discover the source of the noise.
I notice suddenly, that the color has gone from the world. All I see is blacks, greys, and whites. We arrive at the end of the hall, looking around, the noise sounds again, making me jump. Spit trails from my mouth, dropping to the floor. Paul turns then, and takes in my face, my slumped body, my shaking limbs.
“No, not now. Not yet. You have to stay awake. Ben. Ben please. Not yet” he says, tears sliding down his cheeks. He’s looking around as if some invisible force will save us from this ending, this tragic separation, this finality. Nobody is coming to save me. No white horse will ride in to my aid. This is the end. This is my very end. I will be a corpse in minutes.
Let’s keep moving, okay?” he begs me, before hoisting me up. He walks, my arm draped over his shoulder, as he supports my weight. We come to a door. The sound is echoing loudly from the other side. When Paul opens it, a staircase is visible. We hurriedly rush up it and find another door.
The bang is deafening through the door, so Paul pushes it open, his weapon in one hand, me in the other. I look around, finding that we are on the roof. The trees are all around us, the long dirt road we must’ve driven down is like a clay ribbon. I look at Paul, my vision fading. Everything looks as if I’m viewing it through a screen. I feel shaky, worse than ever.
Paul carries me through the door, my legs dragging along. I see that there are nearly two dozen infected wandering the roof. I take them in blearily, so tired. I’m so exhausted. I just want to sleep. Just then, the door snaps shut. Paul whirls around, dropping me, as he goes to reopen the door, but it’s locked. That’s when everything goes dark, and I feel myself hit the concrete. Then everything leaves my body.
THIRTY-ONE
*PAUL*
The door closes loudly behind us, as we stare out at the countless zombies before us. I let go of him, turning to catch the door. I know, before my fingers find the door knob that it’s locked. I grip it tightly and try to force it open. It doesn’t budge, so I plow into the frame with all my might. That’s when I hear it. The sound of a body hitting the pavement.
We Are The Hunted (Book 1): We Are The Hunted Page 21