Love Lies Bleeding (16 page)

B.B. trusts him
, her weary brain offered, while her gut screamed to keep on moving and moving on. She was just too tired to keep walking.

B.B. climbed into the back of the truck like she did it every day. Maybe she had; her history was a mystery, not like her own puppet strings. The truck was an old red Ford, and Rhiannon wondered if he liked pretending to be a cliche; a certain safety came with playing a role. He opened the door for her, but then crossed to the driver’s side.

“You have gasoline,” she stated.

“No one to compete with,” he replied.

She climbed in and immediately started digging through the glove box. He didn’t seem to mind; she found a handgun, a knife, and granola bars.

“Perhaps it’s rude to mention, but the two of you look more than a little banged up, though mostly healed, so…” He let the question linger.
 

“I took care of it,” she answered, tersely. True, that billboard still haunted her, but there’s no way they’d be following her through all her random turns.

“I’m sorry it was necessary at all…” he started, but she cut him off.

“That’s just the world we live in now.”

He didn’t push the subject.

•••••••••

They continued in silence for another ten minutes. Then, the road rapidly left the little town behind and curved into the mountain valley. Seemingly at random, Will stopped and hopped out of the truck to clear some brush, drove in, and then concealed the entrance to the turn-off again. So he left the town open and inviting, but hid where he laid his head. She wondered what that said about him, but was really not into analyzing anything at the moment.

A large well-kept house was nestled in the evergreens at the end of a long driveway. Its cedar shingles had grayed. Will parked by the front double doors.

Still not sure about this, Rhiannon crossed to the truck bed and lowered the tailgate to put B.B. on leash. Will grabbed a box of supplies, which included Froot Loops cereal: odd choice for a grown man.

She turned to the house and saw a nine-year-old girl holding a sawed-off shotgun trained on her. The girl held the gun hip high and wedged against a front patio post.

“Ahh.” Actually, she didn’t know what to say. Will carted his box up the stairs, and the girl adjusted her aim around him as he passed.

“This is Snickers,” Will said, as he entered the house.
 

The girl didn’t move, so Rhiannon didn’t move.

B.B. also seemed a little unsure.

Will crossed back out.

“Um, she’s your sister?” she asked, as he grabbed another box from the truck.

“Nope,” he unhelpfully responded.

“Hello, Snickers,” she tried.

No response.

“Snickers doesn’t talk much, like, not once since we met, but she’s a great cook!” Will said.

“And, I’m guessing, she can shoot that gun,” she said, grimly.
 

“Wouldn’t do her much good if she couldn’t,” he replied. “We practice, lots. Snickers, that’s enough aiming of the gun. This is B.B. and Rhiannon. I wouldn’t bring them here if I thought they’d hurt you.”

Snickers grudgingly lowered the shotgun, slung it across her shoulders with a silk scarf she had tied to each end, and entered the house.

So we’re not his first strays
, Rhiannon thought, and instantly felt more at ease. The girl looked unscathed, definitely loopy, but no bruises. And, even though she knew it was a dangerous thought to have in this chaotic reality, she actually whispered out loud, “Maybe, maybe this is all going to be okay.”

Then she followed B.B., who was already loping off into the house.

WILL

He’d been worried about the introduction, had hoped the presence of the dog would smooth it, but B.B. didn’t seem to register for Snickers. He felt off. Snickers’ shotgun swung from her shoulders, Rhiannon all but radiated heat behind him, and B.B.’s nails clicked on the hardwood.

They’d settled into a kind of routine, Snickers and him, for the last ten days, but Rhiannon was an unknown, another in a long list.

Snickers climbed on her stool to stir the pasta sauce she had made. He put the box on the table and turned to catch Rhiannon’s reaction. Rhiannon stared at the working electric stove and raised her hand to flick the light switch. The light over the kitchen table turned on.

“Electricity?” she asked.

“Multiple generators,” he answered, trying to stop his chest from swelling too large, but enjoying her amazement.

Snickers crossed to turn off the light and then resumed chopping carrots.

“We’re still careful about how much we use,” he said.

“Fresh veggies?” Rhiannon moaned as she removed her hat to expose her golden hair. He could feel the silly grin taking over his face again.

“Greenhouse out back, self-watering. It was crazy overgrown, but Snickers has tamed it.” He was happy he sounded steady, despite the grin.

Rhiannon swayed, dead on her feet. He reached for her despite the wary look Snickers threw his way, but she stepped out of his grasp.

“You’ll want a shower,” he offered as cover. “The bedroom to the left of the main bath has clothes that might fit.” He indicated the stairs.

Rhiannon looked unsure, but seemed compelled to ask, “A hot shower?”

“You wouldn’t want a cold one,” he teased.

“Right.” She seemed to be lost within her own thoughts.

“Snickers, we’ll have to pick up dog food for B.B.,” he said. Snickers leaped down to write DOG FOOD on the magnetic list on the fridge.

Rhiannon looked like her head might implode, and Will worried he was playing it too cool. If B.B.’s appearance was any indication, they’d been through hell and more.

“Or you could sleep,” he started, but then Rhiannon snapped to awareness.

“Yes, thank you… I… thank you.” She backed out of the room with B.B.

Will stepped forward to watch Rhiannon climb the stairs.

Snickers tossed carrots into the sauce.

He placed a hand on her tiny head, a gesture she accepted now.

“Maybe she’ll stay, maybe not,” he soothed, “but we’ll be okay either way. I found some Wagon Wheels.” He pulled the peace offering from the box of supplies.

RHIANNON

The clothes didn’t fit, but she didn’t care. They were clean and actually pretty… well, compared to the black canvas she’d been swathed in. The shower had been hot, just like he, Will, had said. There was honey and vanilla in the soap, and Rhiannon had almost started crying at the smell.

When she’d stepped out of the shower to make sure the door was locked for the second time, she noticed that B.B. was asleep on the floor.
B.B. feels safe
, she scolded herself, but then chafed at the idea of a man protecting her.
What if, what if
, her brain clamored, but never completed.

She’d heard him calling when she was dressing, but still testing him, she didn’t answer. He passed her open door on the way to the bathroom.

“Rhiannon? Dinner,” he called.

“Yeah?” she murmured. He turned back, and she, wearing only a skirt, made sure her bare back faced the door. She knew he’d caught sight. All the air sucked from the room. She pulled her shirt on, noting in the mirror that he stared steadily away.

“You up for some dinner? We found some canned meat for B.B.” His voice broke slightly, but maybe only a trained ear would have caught it.

“Thanks. We’ll be right there.” She turned toward him, but he didn’t look at her as he left. She felt oddly aroused, or maybe disappointed, but definitely awake.

•••••••••

Later, after the dishwashing — he’d dried — Rhiannon sat in the living room bay window and watched the sunset burn the sky behind the mountains.

B.B. slept by the unlit fireplace.

Will read a book,
World War Z
of all choices.

Rhiannon breathed. She hadn’t been this calm in… maybe ever. She watched Snickers, who was crashed on the sofa and cuddled up with her shotgun. She felt the moment Will’s attention hit her.

“We’re locked in for the night if that’s what’s worrying you,” he whispered.

She shook her head and indicated the gun. ”Not loaded, is it?”

“Wouldn’t do her much good if it wasn’t,” he replied, and returned to his book.

“That your answer for everything?” she asked.

He laughed, and then soberly stated, “It’s a world gone mad.”
 

Quickly changing the subject, she tried, “How long have you guys been here?”

He shrugged and guessed. “Two months, maybe, for me. Ten days for Snickers.”

“Snickers?” she asked.

“Were what she was eating,” he answered.

“Amazing she didn’t get snatched. If it’s not the rebuild humanity one-rape-at-a-time group, it’s murderers or the Infected.”

“The Infected?” he asked, and she was glad she had recent news to offer for his generosity. She never did like owing anyone.

“They figured out how to stave off death.”
 

“What?” He couldn’t get his jaw up. “Jesus. Not a cure, though?”
 

“No,” she replied, “But the blood of the immune can sustain them indefinitely.”

He was reeling, working it out. “But the virus burns through the body’s resources, like consuming the Infected from the inside out.”

“Large doses of blood,” she added. “It sustains them, but the virus symptoms are still present, so they’re sick, but fast, strong, angry —”

“And in need of our blood,” Will whispered. He glanced at Snickers, who was now sucking her thumb. “Living, breathing monsters. Nice.”

“Rebuild Humanity keeps them as pets,” she added casually. Nevertheless, she could feel the questions he didn’t ask practically burning her.

He settled on, “You lost someone?”

“With 99.9 percent of the worldwide population wiped out, we all lost,” Rhiannon countered, but Will just shrugged. Then there’d been no one special for him, before. She could say the same and they could bond over never truly being loved, but she didn’t.

•••••••••

That night, the terrors started. Rhiannon was trapped in utter darkness with one of them, the Infected, its putrid snot dripping on her face right before it —

She woke, hoping she hadn’t screamed.

WILL

He thought he heard Rhiannon scream, but as he continued to try to sense her through the multiple walls that separated them, Will got nothing. He’d been awake all night, his brain too full to turn off, not a problem he ever had in the past. He’d watched her, collecting clues:
perfect table manners… hesitation with the dishwashing...
She wasn’t used to this life. Again, it had nagged him, that feeling that he knew her. He wondered if she was going to stay. He wondered if it came to it, whether or not he’d ask her to.
For himself? Or Snickers?
 

He was pretty sure Snickers should be talking by now. He was starting to think maybe she was mute; maybe he shouldn’t have given her the gun, but he couldn’t start second guessing, not even with Rhiannon’s doubt. He thought of the Fleetwood Mac song and wondered if he could still play it. Not that he’d picked up a guitar since college.

Movement at the door distracted him and he turned his head expecting Snickers but, traitorously, hoping for Rhiannon. It was Snickers, sans gun. He patted the bed beside him and she, dragging all her bedding, climbed up
. Maybe one of her parents might have been part Asian?

Now, with Snickers awake, he was pretty sure Rhiannon must have screamed, because it’d been days since the child had needed to crawl in with him.

Snickers stared at him with her almond-colored cat eyes, and as he always did, not knowing what she needed, he just let her look. She raised her hand to suck on her thumb and he pulled it away gently with a smirk. She smiled at this; their habitual, familiar behavior.

He heard more movement at the door as Rhiannon and B.B. silently slipped in. They curled into bed with Snickers wedged in the middle.

Snickers curled her hand in the hair at the side of Will’s neck, and he realized how long it was getting. B.B. sighed as only a satisfied dog can.

He was glad he’d claimed the master bedroom with its king-sized bed. The responsibility had scared him at first, but now Rhiannon was here. Smiling, as he closed his eyes to finally sleep, he thought maybe he could see the first glimmer of dawn at the edges of the blinds.

•••••••••

He later thought it was the worst damn idea he’d ever had, and he’d done many stupid things. Taking the girls with him; beyond stupidity.

A road trip, he’d suggested. The girls glowed with excitement, and he’d felt so damn satisfied. Only four hours south, they‘d be back before dark.

He’d been systematically collecting supplies from the surrounding towns, to restock the store, hotel, and houses. He didn’t know why.

He hadn’t ventured this far since he acquired Snickers, but he thought it would be fun and get Rhiannon out for the first time in weeks.

They’d relaxed into a rhythm, but he had noticed the strawberry plant in her bedroom. Even with room in the garden, she hadn’t planted it.

•••••••••

Rhiannon saw the gun shop as soon they entered town, and in minutes, the bullet belt was around Snickers’ waist. So the gun idea was okay now. Will attempted to be pleased rather than smug.

Rhiannon went clothes hunting. Snickers stuck with him. He hoped to add rarities to the hotel library, but prioritized medical supplies.
 

He left Snickers by the magazines, she liked the pictures, and went to box as much antibiotics, painkillers, and whatever else he could carry.

He hadn’t realized that B.B. was with him until she started to growl a deep warning, just as his hand reached for the box of condoms.

“Hey, it’s not like that.” He started to back away. Then he saw the hulking shadow by the window.
Jesus H. Christ, what the hell was that?

B.B. couldn’t get lower to the ground and still move, and she was scaring the hell out of him with her noises. He set his box down.
 

He suddenly had a terrible feeling he was about to come face to face with Rhiannon’s and B.B.’s past.