“Maybe we won’t,” he admitted. “But we’ll survive anyway.”
We walked another full day, stopping only when we had to. We decided to end the day at a roadside motel that was eerily reminiscent of the Bates Motel. Some of the rooms were in horrible shape, trashed and torn up. There was even a rotting body in a first-floor room.
But the second floor rooms weren’t quite as bed. Boden and Serg moved box springs out from two of the rooms to block the stairways to the upstairs, just in case zombies stumbled upon us. It had been a little while since we’d heard the death groans, and we were on a pretty deserted stretch of road.
As a rather exciting added bonus, Daniels found three working flashlights in the office. He’d gone exploring, looking for provisions, and it was like he’d struck gold.
We picked the three cleanest, nicest rooms for ourselves to share. Stella, Max, and I would share the one room with the king-sized bed. The rest had two double beds.
Boden and Daniels were sharing the room next door, leaving Clark and Serg with the room on the other side. Even though we were sleeping separately, we planned on all eating supper together in Boden’s room.
He was getting supper ready while I cleaned up the kids. I took a bucketful of snow into a bathroom and filled the bathroom sink with it. Then I held a match over it until it melted into clean, fresh water.
I had a flashlight in our bathroom, and Max made shadow puppets with it while I washed up Stella. I didn’t give her a full bath, but I used a wet washcloth to wipe off her face and body. I’d taken the brush from the last house, and I wetted down her hair and ran the brush through it.
Once I’d finished with her, I cleaned up Max. Well, he took the washcloth and did it himself, but I watched to make sure he did a good job.
Boden pounded on the wall separating our room and yelled, “Supper!”
For being a crappy motel, the walls were surprisingly thick. Even when Boden yelled, his words were muffled.
“All done,” Max said, throwing the wash cloth in the sink as soon as Boden had called for supper.
“Go ahead,” I said, waving him and Stella along. “I’ll be over in a minute.”
As soon as Max and Stella disappeared, I lifted up my shirt to check out my incision. Daniels said I had to be sure to clean it a lot. It seemed to look much better than it had last time. I splashed cold water over it, cleaning it as best I could.
I still had my shirt lifted up when I noticed Clark in the mirror, standing in the bathroom doorway behind me, so I immediately pulled it down.
“Um, I heard supper was ready,” I said. “I’ll be right over. I was just finishing cleaning up.”
“Don’t rush on my account.” Clark smiled and leaned on the doorframe.
“I’m not.” I smiled thinly at him and leaned over the sink, washing my hands and arms in the cold water. “I’m just about done.”
“It’s a shame we had to leave that last house,” Clark said, still smiling at me in a way that looked disturbingly hungry. “I so enjoyed playing house.”
“It was a nice place,” I agreed hurriedly.
I’d actually wanted to clean my cut better, per Daniels’ instructions, but it didn’t look like Clark planned on going away anytime soon. And there was no way I was pulling my shirt up in front of him.
“It’s so nice to play with pretty girls like you,” Clark commented, and that was it. I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him another second.
I turned around, preparing to leave, but the flashlight’s beam glinted off something in his hand. He was holding it at his side by his hip, and I hadn’t been able to see it in the reflection of the mirror. But now I saw it clearly. Clark had Serg’s hunting knife, and he was twisting it in his hand.
29.
“Can I get by?” I asked. I tried to pretend like I hadn’t seen it, like I wasn’t suddenly terrified. I just smiled at him as sweetly as I could and rubbed the back of my neck.
“No.” He shook his head, still smiling, and stepped toward me. “No. You can’t.”
“What are you doing?” I asked, taking a step back from him. But my butt hit the bathroom counter behind me. I couldn’t go back any farther.
“Whatever I want.” He closed the bathroom door.
I lunged forward at him, meaning to kick him in the junk, but he caught me by the throat before I could. His hand squeezed tightly around my windpipe, and I couldn’t breathe. I clawed at it futilely, and he held the knife above me, pointing it at my face so I could see how sharp it was.
“Make one sound, I’ll gut those two little kids as soon as I’m finished with you,” Clark promised me with a sweet smile.
I thrashed my legs, and I connected with him once, kicking him in the shin. His hand tightened around my throat, and he ran the blade along my cheek.
“I’d rather filet you after,” Clark said. “But I can do it first, if you prefer. It’s your choice. Which do you pick?”
His grip loosened on my throat, enough where I could gasp for breath. And that’s all I did at first, try to catch my breath.
“You don’t have to do this,” I begged. “Please.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, and his hand started tightening.
“After!” I said, but I didn’t even know what that meant. I just knew that prolonging being fileted was probably a good idea. “But Clark, listen, if you do anything stupid, Boden and Daniels will come after you.”
I would come after him, too, but I felt like me personally threatening him wouldn’t work as well as threatening him with Boden and Daniels. Clark already thought he could overpower me and take what he wanted, so nothing I said would sound like a threat, anyway.
“No, you listen to me, bitch,” Clark growled. His face was right above mine, and spittle landed on my face when he spoke. “If you don’t do exactly what I say, when I say, I will kill those two fucking brats the second I’m done with you. Do you understand me?”
I closed my eyes. “Yes. I understand.”
I didn’t think he would be able to hurt Max and Stella, not with Boden, Daniels, and Serg around. But then again, I never would’ve thought he’d be able to get me like this either. I’d once again underestimated man’s capacity for evil.
“Good.” He smiled wider.
Roughly, he flipped me around, slamming my face against the counter. Then he grabbed my ponytail and yanked my head back. As soon as he had my head up, the knife was pressed against my throat, the blade nearly piercing my skin.
“One wrong move, and I’ll slit your throat,” he whispered into my ear, his words soft and warm like we were lovers.
I could see him in the mirror, the look of sick satisfaction he had on his face. He let go of my pony tail so he could use that hand to pull down my pants and underwear. He jerked me back every time he tugged on my jeans, digging the blade deeper into my neck.
When he finally got my pants down, he licked his lips. I closed my eyes then, squeezing them shut, and I felt his hand roughly grabbing my bare skin.
“Remy?” Daniels called from the main room.
My eyes shot open, and I saw Clark frozen in the mirror. I didn’t say anything, and neither did Clark. I didn’t want Daniels to be dragged into this mess, but at the same time, I also really didn’t want to be raped.
“Remy?” Daniels repeated. “Are you okay?” He knocked on the bathroom door. “Are you in there?”
“Yeah,” I said, and Clark pinched my ass in punishment. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Are you okay?” Daniels asked. “Is everything okay with your incision?”
And then, since he’d seen me naked before and was afraid I wouldn’t tell him if something was wrong, he opened the door.
Clark jerked back, sliding the knife across my throat. It was enough to break the skin, but not enough to puncture my jugular or windpipe. So it hurt, but I’d live.
“What the fuck?” Daniels yelled, immediately appraising the situation.
“Not so fucking tough now, are you?” Clark asked as he twisted the knife inside him.
“No!” I shouted.
He pulled the knife out of Daniels, who fell back on the floor, holding his stomach. I wanted to kill Clark and rip his head off, but I couldn’t just rush at him while he had a knife, not unless I wanted to end up like Daniels.
By then, Boden had come into my room, responding to the commotion.
“Clark has a knife, and he stabbed Daniels!” I yelled at him.
“You stupid bitch.” Clark shook his head, and then he turned and ran out of the bathroom. He thrust the knife at Boden, attempting to cut him, but he only succeeded in knocking Boden down. Afraid of a man to man fight, Clark raced out of the room, but Boden got up and chased after him.
“Daniels!” I fell to my knees next to him, and I put my hands over his stomach, trying to keep the blood in, but it pumped hot and fast through my fingers. “Oh my god, Daniels, what should I do?”
“You’re doing it,” he said, his voice tight “Just put pressure on it, and stay with me.”
“But how do I fix this?” I asked. “How do I stop this?”
“You don’t.” He winced, then he put his hand over mine, holding it. “Listen, Remy, I’m sorry about what I did to you and what happened to your brother.”
“You don’t need to be sorry.” I shook my head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I understand why you did it. You did the best you could.”
“I didn’t,” he insisted. “I shouldn’t have let them cut you up like that. You’re a person, a strong, brave person, and they had no right to treat you like that.”
“It doesn’t matter, Daniels. It’s over, and I’m okay. I just need to know what to do to take care of you.”
“You can’t.” He had tears in his eyes, and he smiled. “I’m losing so much blood. But it’s okay.”
“How is this okay?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” He laughed and swallowed back tears. “I’m fucking dying, and it’s not okay. But shit happens, you get over it, and you move on.”
“Daniels, please.” By now, tears were streaming down my cheeks. “I don’t want you to die.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Why’d you have go and be a hero?” I asked. “You didn’t need to do that. You didn’t need to protect me.”
“I did,” Daniels said gravely. “You’ve saved my life, and I owe you so much. I couldn’t let another person hurt you. Not anymore.”
“Daniels.” I let out a sob. “What do you want me to do?”
“Just stay with me,” he said. “It shouldn’t be much longer.”
And it wasn’t. He squeezed my hand and held onto me for as long as he could. Then he closed his eyes, and his grip loosened on mine.
“Daniels,” I said. “Daniels?” But he didn’t move. “Daniels!”
And then I lost it. I fell back, leaning against the wall behind me, and I held my hands out in front of me. They were covered in his blood, still warm on my skin, and they trembled.
I screamed. I don’t know why exactly, but there was nothing else I could do. Crying wasn’t enough. There was so much anger and frustration and hurt and I just couldn’t get it out, and I couldn’t live with it inside me.
I didn’t know if I could even live with what had happened to Daniels. That shouldn’t have happened. Not like that. Not after everything he’d done and tried to do for me. He shouldn’t have been killed by a person, by someone I let join us. And he never should’ve died protecting me.
“Fuck!” I shouted and hit myself in the thigh. “Dammit!”
“Remy?” Boden was back, and he came into the bathroom, kneeling down beside me. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s dead!” I yelled. “He’s dead, and it’s my fault!”
“No, Remy, it’s not.” Boden put his arm around me and started pulling me out of the bathroom, away from Daniels’ body.
“It is. Everything’s my fault.” I was sobbing, and I couldn’t stop.
I could barely even walk. Boden practically had to carry me over to the bed. I sat down at the edge, and he crouched in front of me, looking up at me. I cried so hard my whole body was shaking, and it hurt everything inside me.
Serg came to check on us, but Boden sent him back to stay with Max and Stella.
When I finally calmed down enough that I could speak, I was still trembling horribly, and I wanted to throw up. Boden went into the bathroom and soaked a towel in water, then came out and washed the blood off my hands and arms.
“Did you get Clark?” I asked, sniffling.
“Sorta,” Boden said. “A zombie got him. Tore him up good. Then Ripley got the zombie. So Clark’s dead, and we’re safe.”
“Good.”
“What happened?” Boden asked. I shook my head. “Was…” He paused. “Did Clark to try to do something … to you?”
“Yeah,” I said thickly.
“Did he …” Boden swallowed, choosing his words carefully. “Did Clark … succeed?”
I shook my head, just once. “No. Daniels came in, and then …”
“And then Clark got him,” Boden finished for me.
“Yeah.”
“That’s not your fault, Remy.” He’d set aside the towel, and he took my hands in his, staring up at me, but I just stared off in space.
“It feels like my fault.” I took a deep breath. “Everything feels like my fault.”
“But it’s not.”
I looked down at my lap, struggling to keep fresh tears back. The cut on my neck stung, but I barely noticed it. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Boden.”
“Do what?” Boden asked.
“Live.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just … it’s so hard, and it doesn’t get better. Every day is more exhausting than the last, and this horrible, senseless shit keeps happening. I can’t…”
“You can,” Boden insisted. “You can and you will. This is just a really, really bad day. But you’re stronger and better than this. You can overcome anything.”
“Why, though?” I asked. I stared into his gray eyes with tears swimming in my own. “What’s the point of fighting so hard to stay alive if this is what life is?”
“Because.” He looked up at me, and then he stood up.
He leaned forward, and he pressed his lips to mine, kissing me gently. Then he stopped, but he kept his face close to mine as he searched my face.
“Why’d you kiss me?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I wanted to make you feel better.”
I thought about it, and I hadn’t heard a better reason to do anything in a long time, so I told him, “Do it again.”
He kissed me, deeper this time, and pushed me back on the bed. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him to me.
30.
We lay on the bed, him on top of me, kissing for a long while after that. There was something almost subdued in the way we kissed and the way he touched me. I’d gotten used to everything being so frantic, immediate, and insistent.
But this was something much different. It was as if we were savoring the moments, trying to make them last, enjoying one of the few things left in this life that we could enjoy.
I tried not to think of anything except the way his lips felt on mine, the strength of his hand on my side, the weight and warmth of his body against me.
Then as abruptly as we’d started, we stopped.
Boden propped himself up on one arm, staring down at me, and he brushed the hair back from my face.
“Are you feeling any better?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.
The rage I’d felt earlier had dissipated. But the emptiness and ache lingered. By now I knew that it would never rea
lly go away. The longer I lived, the more I’d lose. Eventually, I’d have a giant hole inside me, and nothing else.
“Where’d you go?” Boden asked.
I blinked and looked up at him. “What?”
“Just now.” He smiled crookedly. “You disappeared.”
“I was just thinking.” I tried to smile back at him, but it felt weak.
“Do you want to go over and see Serg and the kids?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. A few more minutes, okay?”
“Okay.”
He lay down next to me on his side, and I slid closer to him, resting my head on the crook of his arm. We stayed like that for a few minutes, probably longer than we should’ve given how frantic Max and Stella probably were.
But I wasn’t ready to go over there. Something about seeing them, telling Max and Stella that Daniels wasn’t coming back … that made it feel all too real. I just wanted stay here, in this weird cocoon with Boden, and pretend that nothing outside this room existed.
Eventually, we did get up. Boden pulled the thin comforter off the bed and went into the bathroom. I stood just outside and watched as he covered up Daniels. That was the closest we could get to burying him.
We’re gathered our stuff before we left the room, and then Boden locked the door behind us. That would hopefully keep the zombies out, and Daniels would maybe get some peace in his death.
That’s what we had to do. Leave our dead lying around and move on.
Max ran over and hugged me as soon we went into the next room. He’d been positive that something horrible had happened to me, despite Serg’s assurances to the contrary.
Almost as soon as I walked in the door, Stella began asking about Daniels. She’d gotten rather close to him over the past few days. I sat down next to her and explained as gently as I could that he wasn’t coming back.
She knew what that meant, though. She’d already lost enough people and understood what death was far better than any six-year-old should have to understand.
We went to bed after that. I still felt too sick to eat, and the kids had already had supper. I shared a double bed with Stella and Max, and Stella snuggled up close to me. She cried softly as she fell asleep, and I stroked her hair.
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