“At first I was okay with it. I was a senior in high school, two months from graduation so the pregnancy wouldn’t interfere with that. Trey’s father, he was older, had a job and an apartment. He said all the right things, made all the right promises about the future he was going to give us. See, my dad, he bailed on us when I was a baby, so I guess it was inevitable that I’d look to a man to replace what I lost with him. My mom, she understood too, she said she’d be there to help me through it just like my grandma had been there for her. Things seemed to be good but then it all went to hell. My mom got sick, pancreatic cancer. It took her fast. She never got to meet Trey. Then his father didn’t seem to want to deal with the aftermath of an orphaned pregnant girl. He disappeared three weeks before Trey was born. He came back once, when he was about six months old, gave me some cash and made promises about sending more but it never came.”
He felt rage at the idea of Kim, alone and scared, with this huge responsibility hanging over her head. He wanted to find Trey’s father and beat him to a pulp for abandoning the both of them. If there was any justice in the world, he had fallen prey to the freaks.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
She smiled up at him. “For Trey, I would do it differently. I wish he had grown up with a father. Maybe not the one he had, but a father who would have been there for him. But for me? I don’t know that I’d change what happened. It taught me to be strong. It taught me to work hard. The reason I went to college was to provide a better life for my boy. If I had a support system, I might not have done it. I like the person it made me.”
“I like the person it made you too,” he said.
“We’ll look out for Jenny. We’ll show her that she’s not alone,” she said and he grinned at her determination. She was a mama bear through and through and, as far as she was concerned, everyone in the group was her cub.
The sound of a door opening had them looking back to see Quinton emerge from Alan’s room and walk over to knock on Veronica and Jackson’s door. Veronica came out of the room and together the siblings walked over to the trailer, their morning relief on watch.
“How’s it going in there?” Malcolm asked when Quinton had climbed up onto the trailer.
“The fever spiked and the delusions started. In one of his last moments of clarity he asked us to restrain him,” Quinton replied, his face grim. “Jenny tried to fight it but he said the only way he’d let her stay was if he was tied up. It’s probably not the most comfortable thing for him but he’s pretty out of it. It won’t be long now. Lorraine’s with them still. She’s ready to end it when the time comes.”
Malcolm nodded and handed over his rifle to Quinton, Kim giving hers to Veronica before they climbed down to the ground.
“I think I’ll get started on breakfast,” Kim said. “Make a pot of coffee too. I think we’ll all need it today.”
“I’m going to go…” He gestured towards the sick room and she nodded her understanding, reaching out to caress his cheek.
“Go be with them.”
He turned his head to press a kiss to her palm and headed over to the sick room. He stared at the hand painted 105 on the door, his hand resting on the knob but not turning it. He had been avoiding this moment since Hillman had succumbed and had to be put down. He was scared to face the couple because he was the reason Alan lay on the other side of the door, infected and waiting to die.
He had shamed Alan into this. The man had told him he hadn’t wanted to sacrifice his life for the group like his brother had and yet here they were. He had pushed Alan to the point where he felt he had to prove something to all of them and it had cost him his life.
Now he’d have to face Jenny and explain to her why he had sentenced her husband to die.
He knew he couldn’t put it off any longer and so he opened the door.
Alan was on one of the beds, shirtless with the sheets pulled up to his waist. A bandage was wrapped around his head, tufts of his brown hair puffing out around it. His hands were up against the headboard where they had used handcuffs from the Marysville sheriff’s station to restrain him. He kept shifting on the bed, the cuffs rattling as he let out small moans through parched lips.
Jenny sat in a chair next to the bed, her hand rubbing his thigh in a soothing motion. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and her cheeks were sallow, her blonde hair limp around her shoulders. She looked exhausted but she was clearly determined to sit vigil.
Lorraine had been dozing in the other chair and she looked at Malcolm bleary eyed for a moment before sitting up straighter and rubbing at her neck.
Neither woman said anything as he picked up one of the other chairs and put it next to Jenny. He took his time settling into the chair, not sure yet what he was going to say to her. How did he tell her that it was his fault that Alan was here now.
“You know, he was the one who got us to go rescue Mendez and her group,” he told her. “I wanted to ignore them but Alan stepped up and went off to help them. He was very brave.”
Jenny let out a watery laugh. “That’s the first brave thing he’s ever done in his life.”
Malcolm wasn’t sure what to say to her and she looked at his confused face and smiled, wiping away her tears with the heel of her hand.
“He was never a risk taker. He was a quarterback. He was used to being given a play and running it. He never made his own plays, he never took a chance. He always stuck to the plan. His father had his entire future planned out. His father wanted him to be a football star so Alan lived and breathed football. He made all the decisions for Alan, including who he could date.”
“When Alan had first asked me out, I was speechless. I was just some lowly sophomore and he was the star senior who took us to state. It wasn’t until we’d been dating for a few months that I found out his dad had been the one to pick me out. He thought I would be the wholesome All-American girl that would look good on Alan’s arm when he was drafted. Even when he was still a kid, Alan’s dad was planning out his future image as a superstar athlete.”
“I know it sounds pathetic but I didn’t care his dad had picked me. I was madly in love with Alan so I thought it was fate that had his dad choosing me. I was naive enough to think he loved me just as much. He told me all the time how I was perfect wife material and how he wanted me to be the mother of his children. He did everything right too. He gave me a promise ring before he went to college and I stayed home to finish high school. He texted and called all the time and came home once a month to see me until I graduated.”
She sniffled and reached up to wipe away a tear. “My entire world was him. I didn’t even bother applying to any other colleges but his. I requested to room in the dorm closest to his. I even took a double class load so I could graduate with him. I didn’t want him getting drafted across the country and be stuck away from him until I finished school. I found out I was pregnant just before the draft and he asked me to marry him. I know it was because a pregnant girlfriend wouldn’t work for his wholesome image but I didn’t care because I was in love. I’m still in love with him and it’s why I’ve forgiven so much over the years. I’ve always believed that I loved him enough for the both of us so it didn’t matter that he didn’t love me.”
“Jenny, he did love you,” Lorraine said and Jenny scoffed.
“No, he did,” Malcolm insisted. “After the dealership, he told me that the reason he ran was because he couldn’t leave you alone. That’s love to me.”
She looked at him with disbelief, clearly thinking he was saying what she wanted to hear.
“He did,” he insisted and her tears began to fall in earnest.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do without him,” she whispered. “He’s all I’ve ever known. He’s the only man I’ve ever loved and now he’s gone and there’s so much more I wanted to say to him but he can’t hear me anymore.”
He reached out and put his hand over hers. “You know, back when I served in the military, I was shot. They shi
pped us stateside for recovery in a military hospital. Lots of guys there with different problems, including this one guy in a coma. Every single day, his mother would come to visit and she would sit there for hours talking to him. She read him the newspaper, told him what was going on with his family, the neighbours, what she bought at the supermarket that day, anything she could think of, she told him.”
“Then one day that guy, he woke up and damned if he didn’t remember a bunch of it. He knew about his next door neighbour having a baby, who won the World Series and that beef tenderloin had been on sale.”
He squeezed her hand. “Coma can’t be that much different than this. You can still talk to him. Tell him whatever you want to tell him and I bet he’ll hear you.”
He stood up and checked the cuffs to ensure they were still tight. When he was sure they were good, he placed his knife on the nightstand next to her. “Just in case,” he said, “And we’ll be right outside the door if you need us.”
He nodded for Lorraine to follow him outside and she reached out to squeeze Jenny’s hand before they left.
“I’m going to stretch my legs,” Lorraine told him, rolling her head on her shoulders to get out the kinks that had formed sleeping in that chair.
“Kim made some coffee,” he told her.
“I’ll bring you a cup.”
She walked off and he moved over to stand close to the open window of the room. He could hear Jenny’s muffled sobs through the window but there was enough distance that he couldn’t make out her exact words. That was the extent of privacy he would give them. He wasn’t going to leave a pregnant woman alone within reach of a potential freak. He’d promised Alan he would protect Jenny and his child and he would keep his promise even if it meant protecting them from Alan.
He looked off to the east where the sky was turning from black to a dark gray as another day began. Another day meant hope. It meant more time on this earth, more time to spend with the people you loved.
Love, huh. The confession Jenny had made to him had him thinking about the concept in general.
He wondered if it took great strength or great weakness to love someone even if they hurt you. He wanted to say it was strength because when he looked at Jenny, that’s what he saw but he was afraid that Alan was a weakness, at least for her. She said she had forgiven him out of love but that was only love for him. Her problem was that she didn’t love herself enough to demand she be treated better. She had been so concerned with fighting for him to love her, she hadn’t considered loving herself.
Still, he had meant it when he told her that Alan loved her. He had seen it when Alan had confessed his fear for his wife and unborn child. The problem was that despite his love for them, Alan loved himself the most.
But their time on the road seemed to be wearing away that selfishness inside Alan. Had he made it further, they might have seen him completely change into a different man. Malcolm wished that Alan had been able to do that, especially for Jenny’s sake. It was heartbreaking that his first step towards redemption had resulted in his death.
A smothered scream sounded in the room and Malcolm was through the door in less than a second. Jenny was on her feet, her chair toppled behind her and her hands over her mouth as she stared down at Alan.
He spasmed on the bed, his legs kicking out at the sheets and the handcuffs clanged against the headboard as he tried to pull down his arms. He was moaning as he twisted on the bed and Malcolm was about to head to the door to call for Quinton when Alan’s eyes shot open.
He blinked a couple times as he started up at the ceiling and Jenny took a step towards him.
“Alan?” she called out tentatively and his head turned in her direction. “Oh no, Alan…”
Gone were Alan’s bright blue eyes, the colour dulled beneath the milky haze that had filled them. He let out another groan as he tried to move towards Jenny but it quickly turned into a snarl as he tugged at the cuffs that held him in place. His teeth gnashed together and a white froth began to form at the corners of his mouth as he tried to break through the restraints.
Alan wasn’t here anymore.
Malcolm wrapped Jenny in his arms, turning her face away from what used to be her husband and letting her sob into his chest. Her crying seemed to incense Alan even more and he let out a howl as he tried to bite at the cuffs.
“Jenny, why don’t you go now? I’ll take care of him,” Malcolm offered but she shook her head.
“He’s my husband,” she replied, wiping away her tears and pushing herself out of his arms, ready to stand on her own. “I’ll take care of him.”
She reached out for the knife on the nightstand but Malcolm put a hand out to stop her. “Jenny, it should be me. It’s my fault that this happened to Alan. I shouldn’t have made him feel like he had to make up for what happened at the dealership and maybe then he wouldn’t have gotten infected and--”
“This isn’t your fault, Malcolm. It isn’t anyone’s fault. It just happened. The world we’re living in, you can’t expect to save everybody. You don’t have to be our perfect hero.”
“I want to be though,” he admitted and Jenny sighed.
“I know you do,” she said, “But this is something I have to do for me.”
He nodded, knowing that if he was in her place, he would want to be the one to bring mercy to his loved ones. “Let me hold him for you though.”
She nodded her acceptance of his condition and he waited for her to pick up the knife before he grabbed Alan’s hair and then forced his head down on the mattress. Jenny stepped up beside him, looking down at her husband as a single tear slipped off her chin and hit his forehead.
“Easiest to do it through his ear,” Malcolm whispered as she hesitated with the knife poised in her hand. “Just push it in as far as you can.”
She nodded and put the tip of the knife against his ear.
“I love you, Alan,” she said as she plunged the knife into him.
Alan only gave one jerk of his head but Malcolm kept him pinned as she drove the blade into his head and he finally stilled. Malcolm was quick enough to catch Jenny when her knees gave out, keeping her from hitting the floor.
He might not be the hero who could save her husband but at least he could help her, even if it was just to hold her.
He’d made a promise to the Wakefield men that he’d look out for Jenny and her baby and he would keep that promise. It was the least he could do for the men who had given their lives to keep them safe.
Subject File # 744
Subject: I worry about Malcolm. He takes on so much responsibility.
Administrator: He seems like a born leader. I think it would be hard for him not to take on responsibility.
Subject: I know...but it doesn’t make me worry any less.
“You got everything, little man?”
Kim stood in the doorway of the motel room she and Trey had shared, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. They had packed up their bags after breakfast but she had sent him in for a final sweep to make sure they didn’t leave anything useful behind.
“Yep,” he said, emerging from the bathroom and clicking off his flashlight. “Grabbed the last of the towels. That’s it.”
“Alright, let’s go.”
They left the room and she closed the door, looking out at the lot which was a frenzy of activity. After Alan’s burial that morning, Malcolm had sent them around the motel to gather up anything useful and pack up the SUVs.
Alan’s burial had been a simple affair, the drizzling rain the perfect backdrop. Malcolm had taken the helm once again and delivered a touching eulogy, lauding not only Alan’s courage at the construction site but also his willingness to try to be better.
Kim could see that it had pained him to be once again presiding over another funeral.
She had expected Jenny to be near inconsolable today but the woman had lapsed into a heavy silence. She had cried at the funeral but they had been silent tears that streamed down her face. Jan
et had stuck close to her side since Alan had died, hovering around the woman as if she was afraid she would fall apart at any moment and needed someone there to catch her.
But Kim could see that wasn’t true. There was a resilience in Jenny now. The scared woman from the night before was gone. Grief still hung around the woman but beneath it was the fortitude to continue to move forward.
“You okay, Mom?” Trey asked, bringing her back to the present.
“I should be asking you that,” she said. “We didn’t really get a chance to talk about what happened yesterday in town. I know I was scared and I bet you were too.”
His hands reached up to fidget with the straps of his backpack. “I don’t know, I guess. I mean, it was scary but not as scary as when we were on the highway or when we got attacked at the park.”
“Really?”
He shrugged his shoulders, trying to find the right words to explain it. “At the park and on the highway, those guys were shooting at us. The freaks, they don’t seem as scary as bullets.”
“Good point,” Kim conceded, “But a lot of people died yesterday.”
He frowned. “I know and I’m sad for them, but it doesn’t scare me.”
“It scares me.”
He reached out to hug her, as he had always done from the time he was little. He had always been affectionate and she relished that now.
“Mom, you’ve got to stop worrying so much.”
“Really? You’re telling me not to worry when we’re in the middle of the apocalypse.”
“Yeah I am. The world was plenty dangerous before.”
“And I worried about you all the time back then too.”
“That’s true and I told you not to worry back then too.”
She reached up and ran a hand over his hair, the tight curls soft beneath her palm. “I’m never going to stop worrying about you, apocalypse or not. I want you to talk to me about things too. If you’re feeling confused or upset or scared, you tell me.”
“Of course I will. I always have.”
“You’re a good boy,” she said, kissing his cheek and ruffling his hair. “Now go put our things in the car.”
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