"You had no choice, Daniel," Chloe reasons.
I shrug. "Maybe not, but they're dead all the same. Because of me."
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chloe
Here we go again. More walking, and this time during the hottest part of the day, which is foolish. I expressed this sentiment twice to Daniel, but he wasn't interested in what I had to say. Apparently no one else was either, because they all just packed up and followed him through the front door. We've been walking for two hours straight, and I haven't seen evidence of a neighborhood, house, or shed to provide shelter once it gets too hot to continue.
Daniel and Meredith are walking side-by-side, talking as usual. I don't know what about, and I don't care. He's developed some infatuation with her....but I don't care about that either. Kelli and Lane are behind me. Walking slower than the rest of us. Typical teenagers.....too cool to hang out with the adults.
So I'm alone. Again. A sullenness settles down around me like a dark cloud. I'm depressed. Ready to give up the fight. I'm tired of walking, never knowing what might be lurking around the next bend in the road. Never knowing if I'll have a bed to sleep in at the end of the day, or if I'll be resting on the hard ground, unprotected. Even when we find shelter, I know all too well it's not mine to keep.
Nothing will ever be mine again.
And we just keep walking.
Always walking.
Before the world ended, I used to think I wanted to travel in search of new adventures. But now that I'm on one never-ending journey, I realize I just want to be home. Somewhere I belong. Some place that's mine.
I want to find my parents. Badly. I miss my mom and our mother-daughter chats AKA her free therapy sessions, and my dad with his lame knock-knock jokes. I want to hug them, and tell them how much I love them. But if we hadn't been trying to get to Asheville, we wouldn't have been outside, and we wouldn't have run into a group of Revs, and Billy and Janice would still be alive.
And if we do make it to Asheville, what then? Do I really believe I'll find my parents? The odds of them being at their house are slim to none; if they went to the shelter, they're probably dead; and, if they managed to escape their home and the shelter, with no cell communication, how will I ever find them?
The whole situation is utterly depressing.
Up ahead, Meredith laughs at something Daniel says. A bitter jealousy crawls through my belly...not because they've established a connection, but because I have no one to share a connection with.
I'm lonely.
And in a world full of dead people, the prospects of me finding a companion seem about as likely as finding my parents.
* * *
Daniel
"I'm sorry we had to leave."
Meredith takes a sip of water. "It's okay," she says.
"I thought for sure we would have found another place by now."
"This is what you get when you travel the back roads. Not a lot of action in between farms and small towns."
"And a girl from Maine knows this how?" I ask, smiling.
She looks at me. "Is that your one question for the day?"
I wink. "You're not getting off that easy."
She groans. "Man, I was hoping I'd get lucky just once."
I make a show of thinking really hard, but I already know what I'm going to ask. She waits, wondering what I'm going to come up with this time...wondering how much closer I'll get to figuring her out.
Finally I ask, "Was Phil real?"
Her brow furrows. "Huh?"
"You know....Phil...the survivor you met during the traffic jam. The one who was killed just before we found you."
"Oh...him."
"Yes, him. Was he real? Did any of that actually happen?"
She doesn't speak for a minute. I begin to wonder if she'll answer at all. Finally, she says, "No."
I look at her, at a loss for words.
"What?" she asks.
"Why would you make that up? That was an awful story. Rape and murder?"
She returns my stare. "It got you to let down your guard, didn't it? You thought I was a victim. Someone who needed saving."
"That's a pretty sick lie. You could have pretended to have a sprained ankle, or something."
She shrugs. "If you're going to lie, do it right. Otherwise you won't get very far with it."
"I guess."
"But you know, Daniel, all lies have a hint of truth in them," she says.
Something tickles my subconscious, trying to work it's way to the front of my brain, but it may as well be buried under six feet of concrete. Still, I feel like it's right there...just under the surface. Suddenly, the thought breaks free and springs forward. "Why do you keep asking people if they've had a flu shot this year?" I ask her.
She looks at me, but doesn't answer.
Then I remember...only one question a day.
I tug the straps of my pack, hoisting it higher on my back to redistribute some of the weight. "You know, you're the most frustrating person I've ever met," I tell her.
"Happy to oblige, friend," she says, smiling that mysterious smile of hers.
I can't help but laugh. Chloe is right...I always manage to find the craziest girl in town.
Even in the middle of the Apocalypse.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chloe
It's Wednesday. I'm tired. Sore. I have blisters on my feet from walking for months in worn-out tennis shoes. I am so ready to be still. Even if it's just for one night.
"Come on guys. Just a little farther," Daniel says, trying to motivate us.
But I can't. I can't take another step. I unbuckle the straps of my backpack and let it fall to the pavement with a thud. "I'm done."
Daniel turns around. "What's wrong, Chloe?" he asks, concerned.
I lower myself down to the road. "Everything hurts. I need to rest for a few days."
Meredith comes over and crouches down beside me. "Is it your feet?" she asks.
I nod, choking back a sob. One of the blisters must have popped, because there's a stabbing pain shooting through my left foot. I would rather die than take another step.
Daniel looks at the others, then back at me. "Okay. Meredith and I will find a place to rest for the night. You stay here until we get back, okay?" He looks at Lane. "Can I count on you to keep an eye out while we're gone?"
"Sure, man," he says, proud to be entrusted with protecting Kelli and me.
Daniel looks at me. "Sit tight. I'll be back as soon as I can."
I give a tiny salute. "Aye yi, Captain."
He rolls his eyes. "Be serious for a minute. You know what to do if a Rev walks up. Don't be afraid to use what Dad gave you."
I nod in understanding. He's being vague because we still haven't told the group I'm carrying a gun. Some secrets should be kept for as long as possible.
* * *
Daniel
An hour later, I look at Meredith and smile. "We just hit the jackpot."
She smiles, too. "I think you might be right, but we need to clear it first."
We walk toward the abandoned motel. It looks promising. If it turns out to be empty, it'll be dang near perfect. We could settle down here for a while. Which would be good, considering the pain Chloe is in. Distance-wise, we're not that far from Asheville, but when you can only cover 3-5 miles on a good day because of the heat and steadily rising terrain, and you need two days of rest for every one day of walking because you're malnourished and fatigued, you realize it might not be the worst idea to rest for a while.
I feel like I'm betraying my parents by delaying our trip, but once we're all stronger, we can continue traveling toward their house. Or the shelter. Maybe we can bring them back to the motel. If we find them, that is.
But first, we need to make sure the motel is available.
"Stay close. There's separate quarters here, and I don't want to get cut off from each other," I say.
"I agree."
I reach for the handle of the gl
ass door leading into the lobby, then stop. "Wait."
She looks around, immediately on alert. "What? What is it?"
"I just thought of my next question."
She laughs nervously. "Really? Right now?"
"Seems as good a time as any."
She looks around again to make sure we're still alone. "Okay, but hurry. I don't like standing out here in the open like this," she says.
"Why did you leave Maine?"
"Which time?"
"I don't know. The first time, I guess."
Her face turns a light shade of pink. It looks good on her. "I got married," she says, refusing to meet my eyes.
That was not the answer I expected.
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh. Can we go inside now?"
I nod and motion for her to keep her eyes open, although I'm not sure how much I can concentrate now that she's dropped the fact she used to be married on me.
We enter the motel's small lobby. It's dark and smells musty, with a hint of stale cigarette smoke lingering in the air. Maybe a trace of burnt coffee as well. The front desk has long been abandoned. There's a thin layer of dust covering its formica countertop. The motel guest register is open on the counter, like someone expected to return to it at some point, but never did. I round the counter, and find a half-empty cup of coffee sitting on the desk, beside the computer. There's more mold in it than coffee at this point.
Just behind the desk there's a door leading to a small bathroom. I open it slowly, ready to defend myself if necessary. It's empty. I exhale, relieved.
Meredith points to the guest register. "Let's see if any rooms were rented when it happened."
"Looks like Mr. John Hall was in number 10, and Ms. Louise Towery was in 3. Neither one are marked as having checked out," I say, looking at the register.
"Okay, let's clear those rooms first."
"Okay." I look around the tiny lobby once more. "It doesn't look like there's anything else here. Let's hit the rooms, then we'll check the maintenance shed out back."
Luckily, the entire motel only consists of 10 units, so it doesn't take long to clear them. Mr. Hall must have escaped just after the incident, because his room is empty. Ms. Towery wasn't as fortunate. When Meredith and I open the door to room number 3, the new and not improved Ms. Towery lunges for us, teeth gnashing.
"I've got it," Meredith yells just before plunging her knife into the Rev's skull.
After it quits twitching, we close the door to room number 3. I make sure it's locked. One by one we clear the remaining rooms. They're all good and empty. The maintenance shed is last. It sits about 50 feet from the main building. We walk toward it, weapons raised. Once we reach the door, we pause for a minute, listening for any movement within.
"I don't hear anything. You?"
Meredith shakes her head.
Slowly, we open the door and brace ourselves for an attack. It doesn't come. I lower the crowbar. "That was surprisingly easy," I say.
"Yeah, almost too easy."
"Let's go get the others before our luck runs out."
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chloe
The motel is perfect.
There are enough rooms for each of us to have our own bed and bathroom. Thick room darkening curtains mask the glow of our candles at night, so we don't have to worry about burning them after dark. Although, we burn them out of habit rather than necessity because the motel has a generator.
I step into the small shower and wash days worth of grime and stench down the drain. I feel more alive right now than I have in a long time. Before the world ended, I wouldn't have set foot in this shabby little motel, or this grimy shower. But right now I feel like a guest at a 5-star hotel.
The water feels like a second chance. I let the steam settle around my skin; I close my eyes and lose myself in the soft hum of the exhaust fan as it mixes with the sound of the water hitting the floor of the shower. There were complimentary bottles of shampoo and conditioner, and a small bar of soap on the bathroom counter, ready for the room's next guest. I use them to wash away all the dirt, pain and disillusionment I've collected over the last two and a half months.
Once out of the shower, I wrap my wet hair in the white motel towel, then walk to the backpack lying on the bed. I rummage through its side compartment, looking for my hairbrush and deodorant. It feels good to sit here, on this bed, by myself....knowing I don't have to see or talk to anyone for an entire night. No forced small talk with Kelli or Meredith, no arguing with Daniel about not wanting beans again for dinner, and no thinking about the people we've had to leave behind. Not tonight. Tonight, I have an entire room to myself, where I can lay back and enjoy a bed that hasn't been slept in by someone who probably died shortly after May 14.
I take the towel off my head, and throw it in the corner of the room. I'll hang it up later. I spend the next ten minutes running the hairbrush through my long, brown hair just because it feels good. I think back to the old Chloe, and marvel at how much I've changed. The old Chloe wouldn't have been caught dead wearing dirty, smelly clothes, or going days without bathing. The old Chloe thought looking nice was essential...that she wasn't important if she wasn't beautiful, or if she smelled bad.
The old Chloe was weak.
I pick up the deodorant and rub it under my arms. The fresh scent of lavender and vanilla wafts up to my nose. It smells like my old life.
My weak life.
I can't be weak anymore. Not if I want to survive.
I close my eyes. The last thing I remember is dreaming about a dark cloud forming over the motel. A storm is coming our way, but I'm too tired to worry about it, so I just let go and allow the clouds to cover me.
* * *
Daniel
I slept like the dead last night, which is ironic, considering the dead don't sleep anymore. I didn't realize how tired I was until my head hit the pillow. The next thing I knew, the sun's pink and orange early-morning rays were peeking through the gap in the curtains, telling me good morning. I rub the sleep out of my eyes, and walk to the shower. While the water heats up, I brush my teeth. It's amazing how something so simple can have such a huge effect on the psyche.
I feel like a new man.
In some ways, maybe I am.
I look in the mirror. My brown hair is longer, and I've grown a short beard. My fair skin is darker now, tanned from walking outside so much, and it makes my eyes seem bluer than usual. I hardly recognize myself. I look more like a day laborer than an accountant.
I definitely don't feel like an accountant anymore.
I remember that Meredith said she was a hair stylist before the world ended. I make a mental note to find a pair of scissors the next time we go out. Maybe she can give Lane and me a trim.
I step into the shower and quickly wash off, using the complementary motel shampoo and soap in the bathroom. As I shut the water off, I begin thinking about all I need to do today. If we plan to stay here a while...and I believe we do...we need to take inventory of what we have, and what we need. Then we need to go on a supply run. I throw on a clean(ish) pair of clothes. Everything I own is pretty dingy, but I still try to switch them out every few days to keep them from falling apart at the seams. It doesn't help the smell, but maybe I can wash them in the motel's washing machine later today.
Dressed, I open the door and head toward the motel lobby.
Our unofficial gathering place.
There are just enough chairs for each of us to have a seat, two small dining tables, and most importantly, a coffee machine. Lane and Kelli are already sitting at one of the tables, playing a game of poker with a deck of cards they found last night. Meredith is pouring coffee into a small, white clay mug.
"Morning," I say, entering the lobby.
Meredith holds up the coffee pot. "Coffee?"
I nod and take a seat beside Lane and Kelli. A second later, Meredith joins us. I take a cup of coffee from her. "Thank you. This smells amazing."
"Coffee is a m
iracle drug," she agrees.
"Has anyone seen Chloe this morning?"
She shakes her head. "Still asleep, I guess. But she's fine," she adds quickly, sensing my concern. "Her room looks undisturbed."
I nod and take another sip of coffee.
After we finish the last of the pot, I look at Meredith, and say, "Wanna take a walk with me?"
"Sure. Where are we going?"
"I saw a sign for a gas station yesterday. It can't be too far away. I want to see if it has any food left."
She grabs her water bottle and stands. "Lead the way."
It's nine o'clock in the morning, but it seems later, closer to mid-day. We leave the lobby, following the white line of the road toward the gas station; the heat rises from the asphalt, making it feel 10 degrees hotter than it is. Meredith pulls her long auburn hair back into a ponytail.
"This heat is miserable," she says.
"It's not great," I agree. "So, even though I've drug you out into the heat, will you still answer a question?" I ask.
She laughs. "Are you ever going to get tired of this game?"
I smile and shake my head. "Nope."
She groans playfully. "Fine. Choose wisely."
"How long were you married?"
Raw emotion passes over her face. "Six years."
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