Zombie Playlist: A Rock Zombie Romance

by Kirsty Dallas

  “This is not fucking okay,” I snapped. “What if I get pregnant? I’m not allowing some zombie-infected doctor to deliver my child. Oh shit, a child, I can’t have a child. I’m a mess. I smoke too many cigarettes, I like booze, I love weed, that’s not mother material.”

  Lawson scribbled something in his notepad while I was losing my mind, and held it up in front of me to read.

  Breathe, beautiful.

  The words captured my attention and the panic receded. “You think I’m beautiful?”

  He scrawled away for the better part of a minute, then held the paper up before me again, the full moon offering a little light to read his words.

  Yes I do, and don’t freak out. There’s no point in worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet, and if it does happen, we’ll deal with it.

  “We’ll deal with it?” I said a little hysterically. “Lawson…” shaking my head the panic began to fester again, the undeniable evidence of my complete brain malfunction lay damp between my thighs. It was sending me into a spiraling freak out. Grabbing my cheeks between his big hands which had just been so deliciously attached to my ass, he dragged my wide eyes to his.

  “I can’t do a baby, Lawson. I’m not ready, this world isn’t ready.”

  Nodding his understanding, he reached for his trusty notebook again.

  I’m sorry I didn’t protect you, but I’m not sorry for what we just did. I got this, we got this, I promise you that.

  There was no way I could comprehend just how he assumed we had this. We didn’t have this. I didn’t have this. I was a long fucking way off having this. This sucked so bad. The beautiful experience we had shared under the Arizona stars felt lost. How could I not even have an orgasm without it coming with drama? No pun intended.

  “I think I’m going to sleep now.”

  There wasn’t a chance in hades that I would sleep, but I needed some space, like now. When I would have turned out of Lawson’s embrace, he caught me and held me steady for a demanding kiss that left me a little lightheaded. “Okay,” was all I could manage when he finished. Gently disentangling myself, I climbed over the solar panels on wobbly legs and somehow made it down the ladder. At the back of the Corolla, I cleaned myself up with wipes, the shower of peasants, and pulled on new underwear and fresh clothes. The entire time my mind was distant and almost detached, floating in the realm of oh fuck. Climbing into the back seat of the car, I could feel Lawson’s eyes on me. The tingling between my shoulder blades made me want to turn around and smile, letting him know everything was okay. But I wasn’t okay. I’d never had a pregnancy scare before. I’d always been so safe and protective of this part of myself. Surely I wouldn’t fall pregnant so easily, it was a one-off. Was I even ovulating? What was the date? Gently beating my head against the door handle, I berated myself. So stupid. Idiot. Fucking idiot. Eventually, even with the loud scolding of my senseless brain, I drifted off to sleep.

  Track Twenty-Five: Madonna, Papa Don’t Preach

  CHAPTER 25

  The definition of awkward? Two post coitus adults whose sexual indulgence had ended in possible disaster stuck in a car…alone…with not even the radio to ease the obvious tension. We’d been driving for the last hour, and the heavy weight of Lawson’s gaze was still as stifling as it was last night when I’d climbed into the back of the car like a big ol’ coward. Give me a zombie any day, this mess, I didn’t know what to do with it. My feelings for Lawson ran deep. I didn’t regret screwing him like a hussy on the roof on an RV, in fact, I wanted to do it again. But the possibility that I could be pregnant at this very moment was sitting like a lump of cement in my chest. Noah was in the RV behind us with Raleigh and Felix. I’d told her under no circumstances was she to ride in the RV. She was to be my buffer. Of course, she ignored my direct order, turned her back on me, and headed towards the door without a care in the world. Pathetically, I’d resorted to pleading…even bribing. It didn’t work, her stubborn nature becoming my traitor. So now I was taking the chicken’s way out by keeping my gaze averted and refusing to read the pieces of paper from Lawson’s notebook which currently floated around my feet. He’d spent the better part of the night writing them, then passing them my way as we drove. And I let them float to the skanky carpeted floor. Now he was pissed, I felt guilty, and I needed a pregnancy test, pronto. I also needed a cigarette, badly. But even with my limited knowledge of pregnancy, I knew you weren’t supposed to smoke. Which just made me plain cranky. God, I sucked at this.

  While I continued to stew in my own self-pity, we moved ever closer Las Cruces, the next town that stood between us and Roswell. Since we were adding miles to our trip by accompanying Raleigh to Roswell, we decided that going around the city would eat into our precious gas commodity, so we’d risk going through the hive of possible zombies. Raleigh also needed medicine for Felix, who was an asthmatic. She’d managed to get her hands on a few inhalers, but they wouldn’t last, so the more we could find the better. Visiting a pharmacy worked in my favor, because, you know…pregnancy test. The thought of confronting zombies again helped take my mind off the epic fail that was my inability to practice safe sex. Hell, I had a fucking condom in the toiletry bag in my backpack.

  As the mile markers counted down the approaching city, the butterflies living in my stomach got bigger, and I fidgeted with anything I could get my hands on. The radio, which still couldn’t pick up a station. The spare clips for my hand gun, the water bottle, those pieces of paper getting picked up by the wind and blowing around my feet.

  I’m sorry.

  I won’t fail to protect you again.

  There will be an again, right?

  I don’t regret anything. Do you?

  Bringing the car to an abrupt stop, the dust around us kicked up into the air as Lawson reached for his notebook, his movements jerky and pissed off. He dropped his trusty pen and fought with his seatbelt for a moment while attempting to pick it up from the floor. It made me smile which I hid as soon as he sat upright and began scribbling away furiously.

  “Raleigh is going to wonder what the fuck is going on?” I pointed out.

  Lawson kept scrawling away on the paper, finally tearing it off and tossing it my way. I caught it before it could float to the floor with the other discarded notes, and we were suddenly off again, Lawson pushing hard on the accelerator. My gaze dropped down to the words before me.

  When the dust settled from the bomb, I was the only one that survived. I lay in the dirt, bleeding, hurting, scared, and alone. I hated that silence I was forced to lie in until help arrived. Eighteen hours. No voices, no noise, not even the sound of birds. My men were dead, my ear drums were shattered, my body was burned and my voice was lost. Anybody could have come along and finished me off. Out of all that I hated the silence the most. You’re loud, you’re bold, and you’re beautiful. You’re not silent, and you save me from the stifling quiet I’m trapped in.

  Swallowing repeatedly, I held back my tears and hated myself just a little bit more in that moment. In my selfish panic, I unwittingly took away something very important from Lawson. His story broke my heart and made those scars that marred his flesh all the more real. He hated the silence, just like me, only I could take myself away from it simply by opening my mouth. Not knowing how to say I was sorry, but needing to fix this, I did the one thing I did best, and reached for my guitar. Lawson’s jaw was clenched, his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel telling, as he watched me from the corner of his eye. Settling back into my seat, I held Maybelle lovingly for a moment, then began to strum. The song was about as tacky as they came, but it was the only one I could think of in the moment that said what I needed to say. Please Forgive Me, by Bryan Adams. I gave it a country spin, and when I finally grew the balls to glance Lawson’s way, the tension in his jaw had melted away, and his hands were relaxed on the steering wheel. It also looked as though he might have been fighting a smile. Even though I found his anger kinda of cute, I much pref
erred his smile and switched my song to Paul Anka’s You’re Having My Baby, but flipped the lyrics to I’m having your baby. The next time I looked his way he was grinning again, which made all the heavy shit weighing me down just a little bit lighter. I began to laugh and soon it had become a little hysterical, but hey, it beat crying and sulking any day of the week. When I finally calmed down and brushed away the tears that had squeezed out, I sighed and looked toward Lawson.

  “Shit, I might be having your baby.”

  Reality, the bitch, was trying to creep back in and dump on my little ray of sunshine. Lawson shrugged.

  “It’s not that the thought is completely awful,” I began, trying to explain the way I felt. “Little fucker would be cute, my hair, your eyes…”

  Lawson’s lip twitched at the corner.

  “But the timing really sucks.”

  Eyes with a touch of solemn understanding caught mine. Nodding, he then followed it up with another shrug.

  “I know, my oven’s probably empty.”

  Nod.

  “But we should, you know, get a pregnancy test or something.”

  Nod.

  “I’ve never peed on a stick.”

  Smile, and nod.

  “I’ve peed on an ants nest though, that was just asking for trouble.”

  Lawson’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, and the tension was officially broken, and now I needed to pee. Pulling off the highway beside a collection of shrubs, I squatted behind a bush to do my business, as the portable toilet in the RV needed to be emptied. We took a moment to have a bite to eat and enjoy the calm before the storm. Leaning against the side of the RV, I kept my eyes glued to the road before us, heading straight into Las Cruces.

  “Are you scared?” Noah’s voice dragged my attention away from the heated asphalt. Not wanting to lie to her, I nodded.

  “Yeah, a little. People are selfish assholes, and I don’t want to run into anymore.”

  “Raleigh and Felix aren’t.”

  “True, but we haven’t come across many people like Raleigh and Felix, have we?”

  Pushing her glasses up her nose, Noah agreed and murmured, “Why?”

  Why indeed. Every post-apocalyptic film I’d ever watched featured a broken society. When Red Rage took hold and my world upended on itself, I automatically expected the worse, and got it. Why? Why did people automatically become so savage? Had the destruction of our world changed me for the worse? Would I do anything to survive? Would I do anything to keep Noah alive? The answer was an emphatic yes.

  “When confronted with death, people get scared, and they get desperate.”

  “Death isn’t scary because you get to go to heaven.”

  “Not everyone believes in heaven though,” I pointed out.

  Noah nodded, and seemed to grow some understanding of what I was trying to say.

  “Are you scared of dying?”

  Her question caught me off guard. I needed a cigarette for this conversation. A cigarette I would avoid for the sake of the possible fetus growing in my womb.

  “Not really, I’m scared of leaving you when you need me though, but I guess we have Lawson now, and he won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “I’m scared,” Noah admitted after a long silence.

  “You don’t need to be scared Boo, I got this, we’re getting to Elmendorf, and the first thing we’re going to do is blow up some cow shit.”

  “I’m not scared of dying and going to heaven,” she promptly corrected me. “I’m worried about what will happen to you if I die. I think it might break you, and that’s what scares me because you’re so strong. I don’t want to be the one to break you.”

  The confession had enough power packed into it to make my head spin, literally. It left me speechless. Wrapping my arm around her neck and dragging her into my body, I buried my nose in her hair and took a deep breath. She held on just as tight, her ear pressed over my heart.

  “You’re not going to die, Boo. I won’t allow it, so cut this morbid shit out and let’s get back on the road.”

  Track Twenty-Six: Blue Oyster Cult, Don’t Fear The Reaper

  CHAPTER 26

  As we slowly entered the town of Las Cruces, otherwise known as the city of crosses, the unnerving quiet was enough to test my resolve. While the chaos of running from flesh eating zombies wasn’t my favorite thing to do, this unsettling calm put me on edge. The jagged scenery was a beautiful framework to the seemingly empty town. Idle cars littered the roads, smashed glass gave entry to dark cavern-like stores, only the slightest scent of death permeated the air. There wasn’t a zombie or corpse in sight. It was freaky as shit, and I expected at any moment we would turn a corner and be confronted by a mosh pit of Red Rage. The further we edged into Las Cruces, the same empty abyss greeted us, along with silence. Awful, uncomfortable silence.

  “Where do you think everyone is? Do you think the zombies are dying? I mean, the Red Rage has to run its course eventually, right? Where are the animals? I wonder if the zombies eat them? Motherfucker, do you think the animals can be infected by Red Rage? I mean, I haven’t seen any zombie dogs or cats, but heck, that shit would be crazy.”

  A large hand settled over my thigh and squeezed while Lawson’s unwavering concentration remained on our surroundings. I guess that was his way of letting me know everything was okay, but I still found myself needing to fill the immense space of silence. So, I hummed Kansas’ Dust In The Wind, a track from my now defunct iPhone, and Lawson continued to guide us further into what seemed like a ghost town.

  Driving into the large and mostly empty parking lot of a drugstore, Lawson remained on high alert, slowing the vehicle as he approached the entrance. The glass doors had a steel barricade over them, but it looked as if someone maybe rammed their car into the gate. Steel was twisted and ripped aside, leaving an ominous gaping hole and foreboding shadows beyond.

  “Fuck my life,” I whispered, reaching for a flashlight we had stashed in the glove compartment.

  Climbing out of the driver’s seat, Lawson stretched, pulling his rifle with him. Joining him on the warm, broken asphalt, I drew back a deep lungful of air and took some comfort in the lack of decay tickling my nose. Lawson pointed at himself, then me, then the awful, dark drugstore. Signaling at the RV that had moved to stop beside our car, he pointed to the ground.

  “We go, they stay, I know, I know.”

  I didn’t want to go, leaving Noah behind felt wrong, but I was determined to have Lawson’s back. Noah, Raleigh, and Felix would be safe inside the RV with the door locked. It made sense even though my mind was screaming at me to keep her close.

  “Raleigh!” I called out. Winding down her window, she kept her sharp gaze on our surroundings, her features set in an apprehensive scowl that probably matched my own. After a long perusal of the parking lot and building, she finally looked my way. “You guys wait here. One beep for human, two for zombies, right?”

  “I’ve got it. We’ll be fine, the kids will be fine, I promise.”

  I didn’t know her, and putting my trust in her to keep Noah safe was setting off all kinds of alarm bells. However she did need the asthma medicine for Felix, and she wouldn’t get it if she simply drove off or did something stupid. Returning to Lawson’s side, he gave me a nod before raising the butt of his rifle to his shoulder and taking cautious steps forward.

  Keeping my gun pointed toward the ground, I clenched the flashlight tightly in my other hand and followed him into the store, the glass and debris crunching under our boots. It was a loud signal of our arrival, and my jaw clenched tighter with every footstep. Lawson paused, listened, waited, then took a few more steps around the twisted metal gate and into the dim light. He pointed to himself, and right, then me and left. Before I could move away from him though, he reached for my elbow, bringing my attention back to his stern looking eyes.

  “You too,” I whispered, somehow knowing he was telling me to be careful.<
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  One nod and he turned, his laser focus attention on the store before him as he wandered further away from me. Taking a few steps to the end of the closest aisle, I took a deep breath and tried to convince my heart to stop racing. We were okay, everyone was fine. Before I lost my bravado, I turned, pointing the gun down the long aisle, the light from the flashlight cutting through the darkness at the other end. Waiting for the rotting flesh of an infected to suddenly spring out of the shadows, I kept my weapon trained on the unseen, the light moving erratically over every inch of space. After a few seconds silence, I moved to the next aisle of goods. Boxes, rubbish, and glass littered the tiled floor, but no zombies. Tiptoeing through the building, methodically checking each dark corner and shadow, I eventually began to move down one of the long aisles, to the opposite end where only darkness seemed to exist. My breathing was too loud, my footsteps too heavy, and I was pretty sure anyone else in the store could hear my heartbeat. The noise felt like a thundering echo, and I shook out each hand trying to shake away the trembling from my extremities. As the obscure darkness swallowed me, I tried to cast my beam of light over everything at once, chasing away the shadows. When something knocked a box off the shelf to my right, my heart clawed at my chest, and an uncontrolled scream was ripped free from my throat. Turning, I didn’t bother trying to find my attacker, I simply fired my weapon blindly and fell into the shelving at my back. Landing on my ass, the flashlight rolled free from my hand, shining back toward the end of the aisle I had just come down. Glancing up into the dim light I expected a zombie to fall on me. Instead, a few more boxes tumbled down, partly because of my shooting, partly because of whatever it was climbing through the shelving before me.

  When a meaty hand wrapped around my arm, wrenching me unceremoniously from the ground, I screamed again. Lawson’s face suddenly filled my vision, panic stricken eyes locked on mine.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I spat out. “There’s something on the shelf.”