Sam shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed. “A little.” She cast her gaze downwards and I stopped walking.
“Bad dreams?”
She nodded. “Every time I close my eyes.” She paled and looked guilty and I wondered what her dreams had been filled with.
“Me too,” I soothed. “I didn’t think I’d even be able to sleep, but I was out as soon as I closed my eyes. Didn’t stop me from repeatedly waking though.” I shrugged. “I better get down there.” I gave her a brief hug and headed out of the room and downstairs.
Nolan was stood by the window, the curtains pulled back to allow himself to look outside. He glanced over as I came in the room.
“Hey, Sam mentioned there was food?” I said, realizing how hungry I was.
Nolan jerked his head towards the kitchen. “Go eat, I’ve got this.”
I was hungry, but the thought of eating also made me feel a little sick. Still, I knew I had to. I’d seen enough apocalypse movies to know that if there’s food you damn well eat it, because you don’t know when your next meal will be coming. Karla had made pasta and sandwiches, and I found that once I started eating I couldn’t stop until I was fit to burst. I wondered how she’d made the pasta without the water being on, but as soon as I started eating it I could taste that it hadn’t been freshly made—probably store bought at some point. I returned to the living room, feeling bloated but refreshed.
I moved to the opposite side of the window and looked out. “Thanks for that.”
“Gotta keep up our strength,” Nolan replied. “You sleep much?”
“Yeah, it wasn’t good sleep though. You?” I asked, looking away from the street and towards Nolan.
“Not really. Every noise had me jumping up. Decided to just get up in the end.” He rubbed a hand down his face and yawned.
“You should get some sleep,” I said. “Keep your strength up.” I smirked as I repeated his words back to him, and for once he smiled back.
“Probably. Don’t really trust anyone enough here to have them watching my back though,” he said, glancing back out the window.
I felt a pinch of hurt in my gut that he didn’t trust me, when I trusted him so much.
“Present company excluded, of course,” he finished off, and I looked away to hide my own smile.
“Where are we going after here?” I asked. “You got a plan?”
“No clue, but I’m all up for ideas if you’ve got some.” He sounded almost hopeful, and I guessed the weight of being the leader of our ragtag group was weighing on him.
“I wish I did, but it’s not like I know the area. Or even the country.” I had the sudden urge to laugh but pushed it away. “But there must be police, or army, or someone somewhere helping, right? I mean, we can’t be in this alone, can we?”
“I sure as shit hope not, Rose,” Nolan replied darkly, “because if so, we are most definitely screwed.”
I glanced over at the telephone again, frowning. It was beckoning me to use it and try to call home, but I knew deep down in my gut I would only be disappointed if I did. I didn’t think I could take that emotional blow right then.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, just thinking about my mum.” I looked away from the telephone.
“Mum? You mean mom?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow.
“Nolan, is that a joke?” I chuckled. “Bloody hell, you do have a sense of humor.”
His face remained stoic. “Who the hell said I didn’t have a sense of humor?”
“Please. If you could have an out-of-body experience, even you would tell yourself that,” I joked. My gaze drifted to the phone again.
“You should try it. You never know,” he said.
I looked across the street, my gaze landing on the puddle of something dark on the pavement just opposite us. It was still too dark to see what it was, but it was obvious all the same. Blood—it was blood. It was always blood now. My stomach rolled as my thoughts turned dark and I started to wonder on how it got there. Who had died—or been injured—to make that stain across the ground?
I stood up, shaking off the image of someone being torn apart out there, leaving behind only a puddle of blood to show they were ever alive. “I’ll regret it if I don’t, right?” I said, and walked towards the phone.
Nolan didn’t reply. Instead he turned his gaze outwards again.
I picked up the receiver and dialed home once more. As previously, it rang and rang, but no one answered. It finally cut off so I hung up, staring down at the phone for a few minutes in silence as I tried to control my raw emotions. Eventually I headed back to the window.
“Nothing?” he asked, but he already knew. “I’m sorry. I’m sure they’re both somewhere safe, Rose.”
“I hope so,” I replied.
We lapsed back into comfortable silence, and I tried to turn my thoughts off from those of my parents. I couldn’t do anything to help them right then, and I’d only drive myself mad worrying. For the moment, I had to keep my wits about me and stay alive. I had to get home to them; that was all that mattered.
“You’re from England, right?” Nolan asked, breaking the silence. “Whereabouts?”
“Manchester.”
He nodded, and I couldn’t help a grin spreading across my face.
“You have no idea where that is, do you?”
“Not a damn clue,” he returned with a crooked smile. “Were you here on vacation or something?”
I let out a dry laugh. “Something like that. What about you? Who are you, Nolan?”
We both continued to look out of the window, like the sort of honesty between us didn’t require eye contact.
“Seems unfair to ask me that when I still don’t know anything about you,” he quipped.
“Oh,” I laughed, “is that how it’s going to be?”
My laughter faded when I noticed the intense look on his face, and I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. There was something in that look. There was pain and sadness, grief as deep as an ocean. But there was also something else: trust.
“Nolan?” I said his name, though it was barely a whisper on my lips. I wanted to go to him, sensing something—a connection, perhaps.
He finally looked away from me, his dark eyes returning to the window. “I had just been to visit my kid when planes started falling out of the sky.”
It took a moment for his words to sink in and the realization hit me. A hand flew to my mouth. He had a family. Likely a wife, but certainly at least one child. Out there…
“Nolan, I’m sorry! You must be worried sick about them,” I said, staring at him with wide eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
He gave a sad smile that told me exactly why he hadn’t mentioned it before and my sadness turned to grief for his loss. They were already dead—long before the world went to hell.
“I’m so sorry, Nolan,” I said with a shake of my head. Because whether they had died pre or post world devastation, it didn’t really matter. Not to him.
He nodded. “It’s okay. I didn’t lose her to one of those things. It was a long time ago. Me and her mom split up just before she got sick. She moved her halfway across the country to spite me, and then six months later we lost our little girl in an accident.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing and hoped that I was conveying my utmost sympathy for him in my eyes. A part of me, a part that I would never express, was almost grateful that his little girl wasn’t alive to witness this dark world. Because no child should have to see this.
“About Sam,” Nolan said, and I blinked at the sudden hardness in his voice. Gone was the sadness and grief I had so briefly witnessed, and it was back to business for him.
“It’s okay,” I replied, clearing my throat. I was taken aback by the change in subject, but sensed he didn’t want to talk about his past or his daughter anymore. “I’ve already spoken to her.”
“How’s she doing?”
I shook my head, not sure how to answer hi
m. Sam seemed different. Not just red-eyed and horror-stricken, but different in her mannerisms and the way she looked at people. I had a feeling she was hiding something from me, but didn’t know how to get her to open up without accusing her of being a bloodthirsty zombie. So for now I’d kept my mouth shut and my eyes alert for any change in her.
“You think she’ll turn?” he asked darkly.
I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I hope not. She seems okay though, other than a couple of little things like the weird eyes. I mean, I’m not imagining those, right? You’ve seen them all bloodshot, right?”
He nodded, and I breathed a sigh of relief because I had been wondering if I had imagined them or not. Sometimes they looked fine and then others…not so much.
“I’ve spoken to her, though, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ve told her that I’ll end it for her if she turns.”
It made me feel a little sick to say that, but it also felt like a relief to get it off my chest. Like it wasn’t my guilty little secret anymore that I’d kill my one and only friend. Jesus, or just that I’d actually agreed to kill someone…The whole thing was messed up. Nolan nodded, and I was pretty sure he looked impressed by me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that at all.
Nolan scratched his chin, a small frown puckering between his eyebrows. “All right, the—”
His words were cut off by the sound of something outside, and we both pulled back the curtain quickly, staring up into the sky and watching as a helicopter flew right over the house, swinging to the left.
“Nolan, that’s a helicopter!” I squealed. It was moving quickly, going back and forth in a small zig-zag like it was searching for something, or someone. The zombies were being attracted to the noise from the blades and they threaded out from between the houses. “Holy shit, are they looking for survivors?”
I stood up, feeling like I should be doing something but not sure what. Adrenaline was coursing through me, and I waited for Nolan to say something or do something. I needed someone to tell me what to bloody do, because I was frozen halfway between relief and fear. Relief because maybe this nightmare was going to end and I could go home, but fear in case I was wrong and something was about to go horribly wrong. The helicopter moved further into the distance and the sound of it began to fade away.
Nolan finally stood up and calmly looked at me. “That was an Apache, Rose. Pretty sure they’ll be looking for survivors. Maybe have a base camp set up somewhere relatively close by too.”
“An Apache?” I asked, searching his face for answers. “What’s an Apache?”
“That’s the US Army, Rose,” he said firmly.
A huge smile broke out on my face. “Oh my god, the army! I need to go wake the others. We need to get the hell out of here and follow it!”
I started towards the door to go and wake everyone when Barrett stepped into the doorway, his large frame filling the small space. “Was that a motherfucking helicopter I just heard?”
Chapter seven.
Sam
“Sam, wake up.” Rose’s voice followed the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. I hadn’t been asleep. I’d rested for maybe an hour after I’d “gone off shift.” Then the awful dreams had started again. So there I was on the top bunk, facing the wall, staring at the little nuances in the paint. I’d connected the dots for faux constellations, found a few faces, even something that slightly—very, very slightly—resembled a cat.
“I’m not asleep,” I mumbled as I rolled over, even sounding disgruntled to me, though I had put some effort into sounding pleasant.
“Well, everyone’s up now, so you might as well be too.” Rose stepped up on the lowest rung of the ladder, her face filled with excitement.
I sat up fast, too fast, and slammed my head into the ceiling. “Mother trucker!” I fell back onto the pillow, palms pushing into my forehead.
“You okay?” Rose questioned with the distinct lilt of suppressed laughter in her voice.
“This isn’t funny,” I groaned, still pressing hard against my head, trying to make the throbbing stop.
“I might be one of the only Brits to use the word mothertrucker,” she said with a chuckle. “Seriously, American insults are pretty lame.”
“Our sayings are lame?” I sat up slowly, gingerly rubbing the slight bump that had risen above my right eyebrow. “I’ve seen Notting Hill and a bunch of other movies. I mean, come on!” I waved her away with my hand so she’d clear the ladder and I started climbing down. “Sod a dog? Daft prick? Get buggered? Mother trucker is like…the Queen’s English next to that crap.”
“The Queen’s English?” Rose leaned forward and laughed, laughed so hard I thought she might snort at any moment. “If we ever make it out of this hell”—she paused to hiccup—“I’m dragging you across the pond to experience some authentic ‘Queen’s English.’”
Her laughter died then, both of us sobered by the possibility of making it out of whatever was going on. Me especially, because I faced more than the bad guys on the outside; I might very well be a bad guy on the inside.
“Why are you looking so…”
“Chipper?”
I shrugged in agreement. “Well yeah.”
She looked toward the window and I followed her gaze. The window was small, oriented toward the back of the house. The blinds were closed, but I could easily tell that it wasn’t bright enough outside to be full morning—unless the weather had drastically changed from yesterday…maybe cloudy skies that better matched the circumstances.
Rose saw where I was looking and she moved to the window, making quick work of opening the blinds. She leaned forward, looking out like she was hoping something would magically appear. “I was hoping it’d circle back around. Keep looking.” She turned around and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. “Maybe it just needed to refuel or something.”
“Rose, what the hell are you talking about?” I walked forward and looked out too.
Her eyes were unfocused and thoughtful for a second before she sighed and answered. “There was a helicopter, Sam. Flying around. Searching—”
I cut her off. “Searching for survivors?”
She nodded and smiled. “Exactly.”
“Shit. I mean…if you were up, why didn’t you try to signal them or something?” I paced the room. “Wait, did you try to get their attention?”
“No. No way. I mean, I wanted to. Desperately. But the noise was calling every zombie in the area out of hiding.”
“Did it have any markings? Did it look like, I don’t know, a news chopper or something?”
At this, Rose looked even more excited. “No. Sam. Nolan said it was an…umm, an Apache or something. That’s the army, Sam!”
*
Down in the middle level of the townhome, most everyone was talking. Rose beelined for Nolan. It was like he was her role model and she was using him as her moral guide and personal savior or something. I almost walked toward Barrett, like it was automatic for me to do so, but I stopped myself. I watched him standing quietly, watching everyone else chattering about the possibilities of the military and how the copter meant there must be some help close by. He looked like someone contemplating what his next move was, and that move might not mean staying with the group.
I didn’t want him to pull an Akhira. I didn’t want him to leave me, as strange as that freaking was, considering I barely knew the guy—aside from him being a “bad boy” personality and one hell—I mean one hell—of a kisser.
It wasn’t until his thoughtful gaze moved to my face that I started moving toward him, a small smile spreading my lips. When I got to him, I leaned against the wall near him rather than cuddling up close. I wasn’t vulnerable at that moment. I didn’t need the touch of someone else to keep me grounded. I wanted to hear what everyone was saying.
The hardness of the pale blue wall behind me was a nice reminder that right here, right now, we were standing in a house with doors that locked and windows that locked and the
outside world wasn’t trying to force its way in. I felt like the conversation could only lead one place: leaving this temporary safety. I hated that thought. I wasn’t ready to fight and run and worry again. Well, worry more than I currently was while apparently “safe.”
“I watched the direction it went,” Nolan said.
“So?” Leon argued. “That means nothing.”
“It means that it’s scouting here, looking for survivors, and probably refueling nearby. In a disaster event, entities like FEMA, the Guard, whatever, they set up to help. I’m telling you, we head in the direction it flew.” Nolan slapped his right hand down against the open palm of his left.
“And if there’s nothing fucking that way?” Leon nearly yelled the question.
“There is something that way.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I watched the goddamn Apache flying, asshole.”
Leon shook his head, his angry expression turning harder when he caught Rose’s wide-eyed stare. “You don’t know shit. It could have been stolen for all you know. It could have crashed by now. And didn’t you say it was drawing every zombie to it? Yeah, that sounds real safe.”
“It’s safer for you than being here,” Nolan growled. “Trust me.” The threat was obvious, and Barrett laughed heartily.
“Christ!” Rose stepped away from Nolan and followed her first yell with a mumbled “what the fuck is wrong with men?” before speaking again. “This is getting us nowhere. At some point, the pissing contest has got to end. You’re both being total knobs.”
Both Leon and Nolan looked at her, nearly twin in their expressions with eyebrows quirked and mouths hard, unyielding lines. Barrett laughed beside me even more. And I wondered if he knew what a “knob” was. Because I sure as hell didn’t.
I probably should have just left it, but since the room had fallen silent and everyone seemed to be throwing angry glares around like confetti, not to mention waving their enormous dicks around to prove who was the most masculine, it seemed like the only thing that might break the ice.
Red Eye | Season 1 | Episode 4 Page 7