Jonathan could feel his face turn red. “Thanks.” His voice cracked a little as he said this. He could tell by the way she smiled just then that she had heard it. “So, how have you been?”
“Fine. I’m glad to be here. What you’ve done for us is amazing. I know we’ve all thanked you before, but by giving us a home you have really saved us. We have a family again. I do miss Bradley and Tyson, though. They would have loved being here.”
Rage swelled up in him as he thought about just being used as a rebound or last chance at love. He knew that she loved Bradley, and he respected that. He knew he wouldn’t stand a chance with her if Bradley was still alive. Hell, she wouldn’t even notice him. With his emotions running rampant, Jonathan stood, said good night, and returned to his work.
It wasn’t her fault, so he wasn’t mad at her. She had to watch as the love of her life was killed just a few blocks up the street. Jonathan could understand that she loved Bradley, but after walking out he began to wonder if she was in love with Bradley. Perhaps she wasn’t and she knows the difference. It was too late to turn back now though, and he let himself become lost in his work once again.
Emalynn found herself feeling hurt by Jonathan’s actions, yet she was smart enough to understand that he was going through too much for any young man to have to go through right now. She saw the way he looked at her, he seemed mesmerized most of the time, and then he would pull a complete one-eighty, and he would walk away. When she went to sleep each night, however, she was thinking of Bradley, and how it felt to lay in his arms, but she knew that she would have to let him go and move on.
The beautiful California sun warmed the earth as it slowly moved upward into the sky. The tall figure stood alone on the warm concrete a few blocks away. The figure was no longer that of the man it used to be. But the eyes that caught sight of it were blinded by hope.
“Where is Ema?” Jonathan asked as he came out of his room after a long night of research followed by a short nap. Breakfast smelled amazing this morning. Sophia and Amie had made pancakes, some with blueberries, and others with chocolate chips.
“Outside, last I saw her. Probably taking a walk around the yard to get some sun. She looks much better with a tan.” Sophia gave Jonathan a nudge with her elbow and winked.
“Probably waiting for you to go smooch her. Ewww,” Amie said playfully, and then she began to sing. “Johnny and Ema sittin’ in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
Jonathan didn’t really find it funny, yet he smiled at the little girl. After all, she meant no harm. He sat at the table next to Deacon, who was preoccupied with his pancakes. The blueberries burst like little fireworks of flavor in Jonathan’s mouth. He had never had them before, and despite having a fully stocked pantry, had decided that he could no longer afford to be picky.
After finishing his breakfast, he thanked Sophia and Amie, then went to clean up. The warm water was refreshing. His muscles were sore and tense, and he had not showered in several days. He took his time, not turning the water off until there was no hot water left. After drying off and dressing in a fresh pair of American Eagle jeans and a yellow Hollister shirt, Jonathan decided to go find Emalynn.
Opening the door leading to the garage, Jonathan heard a frighteningly familiar sound. The gate!? In a dead sprint, he ran through the garage and out the door on the other side. Emalynn had already made it across the street and was running at full speed.
“Deacon! Watch the gate. Ema went out,” he yelled and took off down the driveway toward her.
Deacon ran into the garage and opened the stall door behind the BMW. Jonathan had made it about halfway down the drive by this time. Deacon wasn’t sure if he should close the gate or leave it open. From where he stood the street looked clear, for now. With the two teens running out there it would not be long before the fiends were everywhere. Running back inside, he grabbed a shotgun, told Sophia what was going on and ran toward the gate to keep a closer eye on the situation.
Emalynn ran at full speed, tears of joy streaked down her face. She could hear Jonathan yelling after her. Knowing that she was going to break his heart caused her pain, yet she didn’t even look back. Bradley stood just a few blocks down. He looked like Bruce Willis from the end of the Die Hard movies, bruised, bloody, and beaten. He began to move toward her, taking slow, pained, steps.
It’s him! She thought to herself ecstatically. Emalynn could see the smile on his face as he held out his arms to her. He had lost his glasses, but he had made his way back. The thought of pressing herself tight into his warm body again made the sobs come even harder. By the time she reached him it was like she was looking at him from underneath the water in a swimming pool.
“Bradley!” she yelled, as she threw herself into him, knocking him off balance. He stumbled slightly but managed to stay on his feet. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her close. Then the smell hit her in one solid wave. She pushed away from him just enough to look up into his once handsome face. Wiping the tears away with her arms, she saw what Bradley had become.
She let out a high-pitched scream, but it wasn’t from the shock of seeing the love of her life like this. It was from the pain that exploded from her leg, just above the knee. She looked down past her blue tank top and cut off shorts to see Tyson, kneeling on the street, ripping flesh and muscle from her long slender leg by the mouthful.
Bradley’s mouth dropped open; his breath was enough to make her dry heave. She struggled to keep him off her, while kicking at Tyson. The pain was too much for her to bear. All she wanted to do was give in, allow the man that once stole her heart to eat it out of her chest. Let it end quickly, please, she thought.
Tyson was pulled off her leg, muscle and sinew hanging from his mouth. He was knocked to the ground by Jonathan, who charged Bradley, driving his right shoulder hard into his rib cage. A move he had learned when Shane had done it to save his life in the BCRC building. Bradley released his grip on Emalynn as he tried to make it back to his feet. Jonathan pulled her up, but she could barely stand on her own.
Tyson stood and reached for the two, but Guillermo had grabbed hold of him by his hair. The last thing Guillermo ever wanted to do is take the life of a child. Although he knew that the fiends were not alive, nor were they children, anymore, it was still hard for him to do. He raised his blade to Tyson’s neck and began sawing through it. All Guillermo wanted was for Tyson to know how sorry he was. The sharp blade required little effort before the boy’s head dropped to the street, followed by his body.
Jonathan held onto Emalynn as she tried to stay on her feet. He couldn’t even imagine the pain, physical and emotional, that she felt. He was furious that he let this happen to her. He knew that he could have prevented this if he had tried harder to be involved with her. He didn’t always get her hints until after she’d left, but if only he’d gone to her when he understood.
Roger ran past from out of nowhere and kicked Bradley hard in the stomach. The dead man was knocked back several steps by the impact, yet he managed to stay on his feet. Contents from his stomach were forced up and out his mouth. “I’m not getting puked on again,” Roger said. He kicked Bradley’s knee in backwards, causing the dead man to fall awkwardly forward. With several good stomps to the head, Bradley’s brain burst onto the concrete.
“NO!” Emalynn screamed as she watched Bradley die once again. She knew this was no longer the man she loved, yet it was still hard to watch his head burst open in the street.
“Why aren’t you running?” Roger asked as he turned back to Jonathan, showing no concern for the young woman screaming. “Oh.”
The road back to the house was filled with fiends moving toward them. The sun, just coming up in the sky to the east, cast shadows off the horde that stretched far out of sight. The group instinctually moved in close together while they planned out how to make it through this alive.
“We won’t be able to move through that group. Maybe we can take the long
way around. Run down this street here.” Guillermo pointed behind him without looking toward the road just down from them. “From there we can loop back around and hope enough of them follow us to give us a clear shot at the gate.”
The soft scraping of shoes on concrete made the group turn. Another group of the undead moved up the street behind them. This one was too close to the road Guillermo was hoping to take. There is no way they would make it before that second group tore into them.
“Well it looks like this might be the end for us,” Roger said without much emotion. Maybe I can be with my family now.
“I’m so sorry,” Emalynn said as she began to cry harder than before. “You shouldn’t have come after me. I’m sorry. This is my fault. Leave me here on the street and run. Jonathan, please run.” She placed her hand on his face and looked him in the eyes. Her eyes were glossy with pain, terror, and sadness.
Jonathan looked into her pleading eyes. Their beauty mesmerized him now as much as ever. “That is not going to happen. We will find a way through. I just wish I did not live in a neighborhood where everyone had a damn wall around their yard.” He looked around knowing there was a way to run; he just had to find it. For a brief moment, Jonathan believed he had seen Sam moving through the horde.
Before he could find the boy once again, the sound of the powerful BMW roared over the commotion made by the incoming horde. The screeching of the tires breaking free of their grip on the pavement echoed across the town. The black sedan came into view as it parted the sea of undead. Fiends rolled off the top and sides while others were knocked down and ran over. The car slid to a stop in front of the group, who just stood there amazed for a moment.
“Well. Get the fuck in!” Deacon yelled through the window as it slid down into the door. He looked more stunned than them that they were not moving faster. He continued to swear under his breath as the window rolled up.
Guillermo opened the back door so Jonathan and Emalynn could climb in. Roger jumped in next to them. After shutting the back door, Guillermo took one quick look around at the bodies that continued to move closer. He sat in the front seat and closed the door behind them.
Emalynn continued to cry and mumble that they should have left her behind. Blood ran down her leg turning her tan flip flop red. Jonathan knew this wouldn’t end well for anyone. It even seemed to him that Roger was holding back tears. He had always thought Roger to be emotionless, yet he was clearly disheartened by the imminent loss of this young woman.
“Who’s watching the gate?” Guillermo asked in a panic.
“It’s all good, mate. Sophia closed it behind me,” Deacon assured. “We’re going to take a short detour. I know we don’t have time for it,” he added as he turned to Jonathan. “But it’s the only way we can clear the road out from in front of your place to get back in.”
Jonathan nodded his understanding and went back to talking quietly to Emalynn. He ran his fingers through her brown hair as she rested her head on his shoulder. Even clumped with blood, her hair was as smooth as it usually looked. Her skin was very warm. Jonathan could tell she was running a fever.
They drove up and down the streets for about five minutes before Deacon headed back toward the house. Deacon slowed down as he passed by the gate so he could signal to Sophia. He stopped, backed the BMW up, and waited for the gate to open.
“Come on,” Deacon urged under his breath as the gate moved slowly open.
“Shit,” Roger exclaimed. “They’re moving around the wall. We have to move.”
“It’s too late. The gate is open too far,” Guillermo pointed out.
With the gate finally open enough to fit the car through, Deacon hit the gas. The car took off effortlessly and passed quickly through the opening. Once through, he slowed down again, but he didn’t stop the car.
Guillermo and Roger both jumped from the moving vehicle and turned to the gate with their own weapons drawn. Deacon pulled into the garage and ran back down the driveway to hold off the undead while Jonathan helped Emalynn into the house.
Sophia watched eagerly for the gate to open fully so she could shut it. “This has got to be the dumbest gate!” She hollered down the driveway. With the gate fully opened, she hit the button to close it. As it began to shut, she grabbed her rifle and ran down to help Deacon.
Two dozen fiends made it past the gate before it had shut. Roger and Guillermo took on those that were further apart from the rest of the horde. Deacon and Sophia fired into the larger group, not taking the time to aim, yet they fired high enough for the rounds to tear through the skulls of their attackers. They had to gradually step back toward the house as the horde moved in closer.
By the time they had reached the garage the last fiend fell. More stood at the gate, shaking it violently in an attempt to break it down, but the gate held strong. Bodies lay scattered throughout the driveway and the front yard where Roger and Guillermo led them off to make it easier to take them out with their melee weapons.
“Should we go in? Or leave them be for now?” Deacon had asked, understanding what would soon happen.
“I need to talk to her. Then I will be out to help clean this mess up,” Roger stated, and he walked through the garage and into the house.
Guillermo and Deacon grabbed some work gloves from the garage and started dragging the bodies toward the wall. Some of the bodies were lighter than they had looked. The muscle and bone was so fragile that legs were pulled free of the hips, held together only by the thin layer of skin that remained.
Sophia went inside to sit with the twins, who were watching a SpongeBob SquarePants DVD. She tried to put on her brave face so the kids wouldn’t know right away that something was wrong, yet kids always knew. Although adults think they can hide the truth from children, children can sense it.
Roger walked slowly down the hall, unsure of which room Jonathan had taken Emalynn to. “How is she?” he asked as he found the two in Jonathan’s room. Emalynn was lying on the bed while Jonathan brought her wet washcloths and pain killers. He had bandaged her leg quickly, but they all knew it would not matter.
“She is awake and in pain.”
“Hi, Roger,” she said, her voice hoarse from screaming. She looked up at Roger with dry, graying eyes. She has known Roger for a long time, so even on her deathbed she had a sound of confusion and concern in her voice.
Roger began to cry. Jonathan thought about giving them some time alone but thought better of it. He found it hard to trust this man. There seemed to be no telling what he was thinking. Roger didn’t seem to care when Bradley and Tyson were killed, yet he was distraught now.
“You know, I wanted to protect you. I wasn’t able to protect my own family. My children, my wife, they’re out there somewhere.” He put his face in his hands as he started crying harder. “There was nothing I could do for them, and I wasn’t there for you when you needed me to be.” Before she could respond, he rose to his feet and left the room.
“I don’t understand that man,” Emalynn said, forcing a smile. She reached up to touch Jonathan’s face. “I’ve seen what happens to people after they’ve been attacked like this. I only wish we had more time.”
“Do not talk like that Ema. We will have all the time in the world.”
“Don’t be stupid, Jonathan. You know as well as I do what’s happening to me. I made a mistake. He looked ok out there in the street,” she said, referring to Bradley. “But I was stupid. I ran after him, when I had you right here,” She started to cry, but she didn’t seem sad about her short life coming to an end.
“I was stupid Ema, not you. You are amazing. I am a socially awkward dork that is so used to being ignored by girls that I do not know how to approach you,” he said.
“We can’t let that get us down now,” Emalyn replied.
He bent down and kissed her on the lips softly.
Emalynn blushed, bringing a little color back to her cheeks.
“Can I ask you a horrible question?” he asked, trying to cool hi
s own face.
“Of course,” she replied. Her gentle smile and sad eyes confused Jonathan emotionally.
“How does it feel? What are your symptoms?”
“That is horrible,” she laughed a raspy laugh, “but that’s the scientist in you. My head hurts more than my leg does. I feel like my brain will burst through my skull at any moment. I can feel my blood burning in my body, too. My muscles are tightening an-.”
“That is enough, please. I am so sorry.” Jonathan could no longer hold back. He laid his head down on her chest and cried until he fell asleep. He had focused too much on saving the world, and now he just lost his chance at a relationship.
Outside, Roger packed as much as he could carry while still packing as light as possible. He took down his small tent and packed it, as well. His plan was extreme survival out in a hostile world. He evolved from a caring husband and father to a heartless survivor in heartless times, and then evolved back to a caring father of a young woman who wasn’t his. Like any good father, he was willing to kill to protect his children.
“Where are you going?” Guillermo asked. He wasn’t really concerned or sad to see him go, just curious.
“I have to leave.” He turned to Guillermo; his face was that of a broken man. “I think you know why.”
“You killed them, didn’t you?”
“The boy wasn’t supposed to be there. Believe me on that, please. I thought I could protect her better than he could. I thought he was going to get us all killed. As it turns out, the dark place I was in blinded me of reason. I know you hate me, and I don’t deserve any better. I’m leaving, it will be my burden to carry, until I’m killed out there.” Roger nodded off toward the world past the wall.
As soon as Roger had confessed, Guillermo’s knuckles turned white as he clenched them tightly. It took all his strength to not attack the man. He thought of cutting Roger to pieces, but Guillermo knew death on the street at the hands of the dead would be worse than what he could do to him. “You son of a bitch,” Guillermo declared, and he turned to walk away.
Decay | Book 1 | Civilization Page 20