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Evan
was one such advisor.  He didn't really want to be an advisor, but he
understood the necessity of it, so he did it anyways.

Knocking
on the heavy bronze inlaid, decorative entry door (that, honestly, looked
completely out of place on a log cabin, in Evan's opinion), he waited for
Alex's invitation inside.  He hated this door, but he had to admit it was
pretty sturdy; steel and strong.  They'd looted it from Home Depot, too.

"Evan?"
Alex called from inside.

"Yeah,
I'm here," Evan said.

"I
didn't expect you to actually listen to me."  Alex laughed.  "Come
in.  The door's open."

Evan
clicked down the latch on the door handle, then pushed open the door and
stepped inside.

Alex
was odd.  He was older than Evan by about a decade or so, so maybe that was
it.  He'd spent time in the military, though he didn't like to talk about it
too much.  Some people thought it was trauma that kept him quiet, but Evan
suspected it was more about bragging.  Alex didn't like to brag, and he didn't
like people to brag.  He just wanted to get things done.

Alex
was the sort of person who was more than happy to lead you, to offer you advice
and help you out, but he didn't want to show off in the process.  Evan could
appreciate that and he thought he understood it.  Alex acted somewhat strict at
times, but overall he was a fair person.

"Go
on, sit down.  Let's chat," Alex said.  He looked up from his paperwork
long enough to gesture towards a chair across from him on the other side of the
dining room table he used as a desk.

Evan
walked towards the chair.  A spray of sunshine lit the log cabin and Alex kept
a battery-powered lantern next to him, too.  The room was still too dark,
though.  He pulled out the chair and sat down.

"You
know, we could get solar panels," Evan said.  "Nothing fancy, but
they'd do the trick for small things.  We could get a real lamp in here and
light the place up."

Alex
glanced up and stared at Evan.  "This isn't permanent, Evan."

"You
keep saying that, and I know you mean it, but what are your plans, then?"

"We'll
figure something out for winter and we'll go from there.  Who knows what the
cold weather will do to those monsters?  We might find ourselves with a prime
opportunity to re-establish civilization back in our old homes.  And
then," Alex added, "if you want to arrange for solar panels, by all
means."

"They
aren't monsters," Evan said.

Alex
sighed.  "We've had this discussion before."

"I
know we have, but they aren't monsters.  They aren't zombies, either.  They're
people.  They need help."

"Right,
but from who?  Are you going to help them, Alex?  Do you have the equipment? 
You were an EMT and I get that you wanted to go to school to become a doctor or
whatever, but it's not possible now.  No amount of wishing and wanting can
change that."

Evan
clenched his jaw.  He hated these discussions.  Why did Alex have to be like
this?  Realistic, Alex would have said, but Evan thought it was more like
pessimism; giving up, not caring.

"If
we could help them, if they were sick like you say, I'd be all for it.  But
what can we do?  We have no medicine.  We don't know how to stop them.  Should
we restrain them?  Catch them and put them in cages, Evan?  We don't have
enough people to do that and we don't have any safe place to house those things
even if we did.  We don't have the facilities to work on figuring out your
cure, either."

"So,"
Alex continued.  "There's absolutely nothing we can do.  The sooner you
realize this, the better off we'll be.  I'm not being unsympathetic, I'm being
realistic.  It's us or them, and I'm choosing us."

The
unspoken ultimatum hung between them.  Who would Evan choose?  Alex and the
rest of the group, or the sick people?

It
wasn't a choice Evan could make, though, because there were more options than
that.  There
was
something he could do, no matter what Alex said.  He
didn't know what yet, but he'd figure it out.  He'd already done something,
hadn't he?  Staying with Sadie, being close to her, talking with her.  It
wasn't medical help, but he thought he'd helped her.

And
he'd enjoyed it, too.  It occurred to him that she'd helped him just as much as
he'd helped her.  Not in the same way, but in ways that he didn't think anyone
else could have done.

"Why
don't you just pick a girl and settle down?" Alex asked.  "There's
enough of them that swoon over you here, so it shouldn't be too hard.  Instead,
you always run away.  I mean, I appreciate you hunting as much as the next
person, but there's alternatives.  We could go a day or two with what we've got
while you get some much needed R&R with one of the ladies, if you catch my
drift?"

"I'd
rather not," Evan said. 

Everyone
was so pushy here, so open.  There weren't secrets and there wasn't privacy. 
People kept this away from the children, but once night fell that was it. 
Everyone bugged you, bothered you, asked questions, wanted the entire
description of details.  They weren't in high school anymore and this wasn't
some spring break getaway.  Alex said it helped morale, but Evan disagreed.

"Suit
yourself," Alex said.  "Makes no difference to me.  If you get so
pent up that you end up losing your mind and fucking a zombie, don't say I
didn't warn you."

Evan
glared at the ex-military man.  "They aren't zombies."

"Whoa
there, killer."  Alex laughed.  "I get it.  I do.  I know you don't
like to call them that, but it's the name everyone uses.  That's not my
fault."

Alex
reached under his chair and brought up a package of chocolate chip cookies. 
Putting them on the table between himself and Evan, he helped himself to one
and nodded for Evan to feel free to do the same.  Evan took a cookie and
crunched into it hard, wanting to absolutely destroy the thing with his teeth.

"Let's
get down to business, then," Alex said, wiping crumbs from his lips. 
"What happened yesterday?  Was it a group of them that came after you?  Do
you think the camp is safe, or should we look into relocating?  This office
will take some time to disassemble, but we can come back for it or build a new
one if we need to.  Tell me what's up."

"It's
nothing like that," Evan said.  "I got lost, that's all."

Alex
furrowed his brow.  "
You?  Lost?
"

"Happens
to the best of us, doesn't it?"

Apparently
not, or at least it wasn't a good enough answer for Alex.  "Elaborate,
please."

"I
was tracking a moose in the woods," Evan lied.  "A big one.  Could've
fed us for days, probably.  You don't want to screw around with a moose,
though.  If I had a gun, maybe it would've been easier, but with my crossbow I
needed a perfect shot or else I might've ended up with my gut run through by
antlers before I could blink.  I lost him, though, and then I lost
myself." 

To
put some truth in the story, he added, "I found a house in the woods and I
stayed there overnight and early in the morning I found the highway, then
figured out where I was and came back here."

Alex
nodded, listening.  "A house?  Anything good?  Could we use it in the
winter?  Fireplace or anything like that?"

Evan
remembered the hearth in the living room of Sadie's home, just begging to be filled
with firewood.  The generator would be great in the winter, too.  Find a truck
and do gas runs back and forth to a gas station, fill it up and have wonderful
heat and electricity during the cold months.  The second floor looked like it
had at least three or four bedrooms, but Evan hadn't checked.  And the third
floor might've had one or two more, but it was mostly slant-roofed attic space,
so who knew?

"Not
really a house," Evan said.  "More like a shack.  I think hunters
must have used it way back when.  A cot and a shelf and some walls, a roof, and
a door, but that's it.  Nothing worth mentioning."

Alex
nodded, but he didn't seem like he was listening anymore.  Taking up his pen,
he jotted something down on a piece of paper, scribbled out a couple words,
then wrote more.

"I'm
glad you're safe, at least," Alex said.  "We'd be hardpressed to
survive as good as we have without you.  Don't go doing something stupid and
getting yourself killed, alright?"

Evan
smirked.  "Right.  No promises, but I'll do what I can.  We all set here,
then?"

"Yeah. 
Go get some food.  Have sex.  Play your games or whatever.  I have some ideas,
but I need to think them through a little more first.  I'll call you when I
need you."

"Sounds
good."  Evan took one more cookie before leaving.  He crunched it,
contemplating, as he left Alex's office.

That
look on Alex's face; Evan didn't think it was good.  Unfortunately he had no
idea what Alex wrote down because the man had terrible handwriting and no one
could read it.  Likely he'd find out soon enough, though.  During a meeting, or
later in passing.  Ask a few questions, figure something out.

Evan
didn't know why, but he had a bad feeling about it, though.  The strange,
curious look on Alex's face bothered him.

 

* * *

 

Somehow
I manage to get up and leave my home.  It's my home, I know, even if it doesn't
really belong to me.  I brought Evan there, though, and he seemed impressed.  I
remember the way he smiled, the way he touched me.  I remember how I felt when
we kissed and cuddled close under the blankets of the bed.  I definitely
remember the feel of him pressed against me, inside of me, close and hot and
blazing.

I
think, for all the oddness of it, that as I walk along the quiet country roads
into the city that I must be smiling.  I don't know why and I can't remember
smiling before, but now I think I should.

I
arrive at the outskirts of the city and trudge inside.  No matter if I smile or
not, it's a very cold morning and I seem to have forgotten my jacket.  Why
didn't I bring boots?  I have a cute pair back home in my apartment with
fur-trim on the tops.  Despite how they look, I know they're warm.

I
should have brought them.  And my jacket.  I don't know why I wore such a
short-sleeved shirt, either.  My body is cold but I can't shiver for some
reason.  I remember having been cold before, my teeth chattering, talkative,
and my whole body shaking, but no matter how cold it is outside now, I can't.

The
bright, late summer sun shines down on me and I watch as a squirrel hops across
the road up ahead.  I stare at him, thinking, not sure what to make of that.

Apparently,
or at least this is what I gather from looking around, it's not all that cold
outside.  It's just me.  My office manager makes fun of me sometimes, saying
that I'm Sadie the Ice Queen, always cold, but he ignores the fact that it
really is cold in our office.  I always have to wear a long-sleeve shirt there
and I bring a jacket sometimes just in case.  It's not as bad in the winter,
but I wish they'd turn the heat up just a little more sometimes.

Where
is my car?  I need to get to work.  Why am I walking?  I look over my shoulder
and see a road into the woods.  This isn't the way I usually go to get to
work.  Why was I in the woods?  I turn back around and look forward and then I
see someone.

A
man shambles through the streets.  He turns to look at me, too, but barely
bothers to care.  I see his face, pale and blue and sad.  He hobbles across the
street to a bench, then falls onto it.  I watch as he flops down and buries his
face in the slatted seat of the bus stop waiting area.

Yes. 
I know now.  I'm dead, except I'm not dead.  No, I'm not dead at all.  I
remember a man who told me this.  He put his warm, warm hands on my wrist and
he smiled at me and he said, "It's faint.  A little weak, but I can feel
it.  You're pulse is low, though.  That's probably why your body temp is
lower."

He
said my name, too, and I love him.  It occurs to me that this is a silly reason
to love someone.  I don't actually think you can love someone for telling you
that you have a pulse and saying your name, but I don't know if I care.  I
think I can still love him.  At least, I like him a lot.  I love him like a
good friend.  That's what it is, I decide.

What
else happened?  I stand in the middle of the street, careless of oncoming
traffic--except there is no oncoming traffic.  The streets are dead, completely
lacking a pulse.  Cars, parked along the sidewalk, sit there, unused.  They
don't move on their own, of course, and no one looks willing to move them,
either.

I
don't want to move, I want to stand here and think about this man that I like. 
What's his name?  Oh.  Evan.

I
put one hand on my wrist, feeling for my pulse with my fingers.  It's slow to
come and it takes more than a few seconds, but then I feel it.  A slight thump,
quiet and calm.  Relaxing.

My
heart surges with feeling.  I'm so happy and I don't even know why and it's
dumb but I like it.  I keep walking now, onwards, passing the man laying
face-first on the bench.  He doesn't bother to look at me, but I look at him
and I smile.

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