Mostly Dead (Barely Alive #3) (17 page)

My end was near. But before I went…

I wanted Dominic to go with me.

I had to see Mom before I sought out the perfect fire to walk into, dragging a kicking and screaming Dominic behind me. Hey, I could dream the perfect way to die, if I wanted. It was my damn death.

Heather was in the front room. I avoided that direction and headed toward the kitchen. Something my mom tended to do was love people with food. Her condition concerned me.

C.J. left the kitchen as I approached the doorway. He offered a smile, the cross tattooed in his forehead developed a thin waist as its sides scrunched together with his confused and twisted brow. “Paul? James said you went for a walk. Are you okay?”

Should I tell him he worked with a zombie? Similar to the ones he’d strategized to kill? I sighed. “C.J., you need to know something. I’m… well, I’m one of them. I have the virus.” I licked my lips, unsure about the admission. “I’m not sure how long you’ll be safe from me.” Or James. Or the Duncans.

His reaction was less than anti-climactic. He watched me like he wa
ited for the punch line to a terrible joke. I had nothing else to offer. Sadly, the punch line sucked.

I lifted my hands. “Well, that’s what I have. I’m sorry.”

“Paul, don’t worry. I figured you were like them. Your skin is gray and you keep trying to sniff people.” He appraised me from head to foot. “As long as you keep the virus to yourself and don’t eat me, I won’t tell anyone else, okay? You seem different than the other ones, anyway. I can handle it.”

He’d forgiven me for things he couldn’t understand.
I
didn’t understand. But sharing the knowledge outside my family and friend network had a liberating effect. I lowered my voice. “I want you to be prepared for the end of this. The leader is evil. But even he won’t be able to avoid the fire. I don’t want anyone to stop us, if we head toward the flames, okay? You have to let us burn or the vaccinated people will also be at risk.”

“There’s no cure?” He reached out and gripped my shoulder.

I swallowed the welling up of sadness. A side of my mouth lifted – but it wasn’t a smile, it was more like a resigned twitch. “No cure. Not everything has a cure.”

“It’d be nice though. I’m sorry.” He pulled me into his arms and hugged me. I hadn’t been hugged by a father figure in years. The sensation warmed me. I’d do my best to make sure C.J. survived – as a human.

When we pulled apart, I met his gaze. “Can I ask you for a favor?” I continued as he waited. “Heather is immune. She’s the key to the cure. I need you to watch out for her, when I go. She… she’s special, you know?”

“Yeah, she is.” C.J. walked past me and opened the front door. I faced away from him until he said, “Hey, Paul.” I turned. He pointed at me. “You’re special, too, son. Don’t give up too soon.” And then he closed the door behind him.
The tattoos no longer seemed relevant.

Heather met my gaze from across the lobby-like area.
Heat flushed her cheeks. I’d give anything to start over with her. Be a boy. Erase the desire to even bite her back. I couldn’t look away from her. I wanted to go to her. Touch her. Hold her.

But I turned away. She would be better off without me. Safer. And hell, if I’d endanger her anymore than I already had. My hell, what more would I do to her besides make her travel with zombies and into war.

The small soldier had become my talisman. I couldn’t pull it from my pocket. I needed the support. Like my own Thor’s hammer.

Mom stood in the kitchen, licking her finger and laughing at something Grandma Jean had said. I shadowed the doorway, watching her. When I died, would I have memories? I wanted to remember my mom with her peach skin and wide smile.
Maybe I’d come back and visit her as a ghost.

Hell, if zombies were real, then why not ghosts?

She spied me and her eyes grew wide and sparkly. Stopping in the middle of her sentence, she shouted, “Paul. Oh, I’m so glad to see you.” She rounded the island and pulled me into a warm hug, similar to C.J.’s but even more welcome. Mom.

“Hey, Mom.” I participa
ted in the hug rather than allowing it to happen. Sensitivity in my fingers hadn’t decreased when I ate the leg. My toes tingled in my shoes.

I was reaching the point where my last heart beat would bump and then silence. No going back from that point. I squeezed my mom tighter.

The hug had to end. Like my life. She pulled away and patted my chest. “As you can see, I’m fine.”

“But are you like me?” I didn’t want to see her time cut to weeks. I’d like to die thinking she’d live on for a while. Or at least until a different apocalypse came along.

“Well,” She moved to the sink and washed her hands, wiping them on a red towel. “I don’t want to eat meat any more than I wanted to before. Does that mean anything?”

I grinned. “More than you know.” The vaccine worked, but the reaction was extreme. Yet short-lived.

Grandma Jean handed me a box, the weight surprising considering it wasn’t larger than a couple of shoeboxes. A towel covered the contents. I sniffed, but nothing smelled familiar. “What’s this?”

“Food I want you to deliver to
one of the trenches. C.J. said there are eleven groups. When you get done passing that out, come back and we’ll have more for you. Send James in here for the drinks, please.” She bustled back to the station she’d developed by the sink and stove.

Food for humans. Nothing I’d be interested in. I nodded and winked at Mom. She smiled and shook her head. Another bo
x rested on the counter beside her. She loaded in juice boxes and cans of pop. For just a moment, I pretended it was for me and tried to imagine the taste of grape pop and peanut butter sandwiches. Dust is all I could call to mind.

Fricking dust.

I juggled the box while trying to open the front door.

“Here, let me.” Heather pulled the panel open and
stood aside.

“Um, thanks.” I ducked through the opening and into the darkening
night.

“Hey, Paul.” She chewed on her bottom lip in a way that made my heart race. She might be the death of me before the virus could consume me. “Do you mind if I come with you? I haven’t been out of the house and I’d really like to… well, see what’s going on.”

Going to the war zone wasn’t where she’d be safest. But at my side, I could guarantee at least the same amount of safety that she’d have at the house. I made it through the woods without anyone discovering me.

Dominic could do the same, if he really wanted to… A plan formed in my mind to get Dominic to the house. But I needed more time to put it into action.

I shrugged. The only things I should be saying to Heather included sorry, so sorry, and forgive me for trying to rape you. Ugh. I couldn’t even blame it all on Dominic. I could only to a certain moment. I’d given over to the sensation of having her rubbed against me. Parts of me deserved to fall off because of how much I’d scared her. And disappointed myself.

“Um, which way do you want to go?” I waited for her at the bottom of the steps.

She didn’t look directly at me. In fact she searched the grounds first before calling out. “C.J., do you want these taken anywhere specific? Grandma Jean said to take it. Can you send us where you want us to go?”

Being the leader hadn’t been a choice I’d made willingly, but someone else taking the role set me on edge. I didn’t know that I trusted anyone to make the right decisions when I was the only one that knew Dominic like I did.

The large man pointed to the east, away from the road, and darted off to talk to another group.

Heather and I looked at each other. I nodded my head the direction C.J. had pointed. “Shall we?”

She glanced behind herself and swung her arms. In front of me, her rear-end swayed side-to-side.
Focus, Paul, you don’t want to trip and fall on her. Or did I… Hmmm.

We reached the first trench too soon using a trail Heather claimed her
and Grandma Jean used to pick huckleberries in the summer. Ten people crouched in the ditch, five facing one way while the other five sat with their backs to them. Half of them stood with a bottle raised above their heads, lighters at the ready when we approached.

At least they were prepared.

“Wait. C.J. sent us. We have food.” Heather slowed her steps and held up her hands. In the moonlight, her curls disappeared into the dark, but the pale of her skin gave me chills. I could get used to standing in the dark with that girl.

A woman reached out for the box and I lowered it in. A younger man’s trembling voice barely reached us from in the pit. “Do you think they’ll come this way?”

I sniffed, deep and full. “Did you guys roll around in cow crap or something?” They stunk to high heaven. So bad I stepped back a few feet.

The same voice answered. “Yeah. We rubbed it on our clothes and lined the hole with it. Do you think it will work?”

“Yes. It will definitely work.” My sense of smell was on hyper drive with my increased hunger. The zombies coming after us would be focused on Heather’s scent or another human for food. They’d never stop to investigate the reek coming from that trench. “Aim for their feet. It will give you a higher chance of success.”

The
woman passed the box around. We’d already been excused.

Heather and I retraced our footsteps. I watched her and wished she’d fall or stumble so I’d have to reach out and touch her. But she didn’t give me any reason.
Damn.

At the door to the kitchen, Heather peeked in and asked Grandma Jean if she had more
food to go out. Grandma Jean’s confident voice called past her. “You two sit right there. I’ll have the next box ready before you even turn around.”

Benches set up along
the flowering bushes were captured in the light from the kitchen windows. Grandma Jean’s generator ran in the basement. I motioned toward the seats. “We could wait over here.”

W
e sat as far from each other as we could. I wished for a second I was in a Popeye cartoon where the bench sank down and Olive Oyl slid onto Bluto’s lap. I definitely weighed more than Heather. She’d slip right into my arms and I’d hold her close and touch her soft hair.

I snapped from my
daydream and found Heather in my arms. I’d lapsed for two seconds and hell if I couldn’t keep my hands to myself. I set her from me but didn’t move more than an inch from her, our thighs close but not touching. Once again, I found myself apologizing. “I’m sorry. I… Shit.” I thrust my hands in my hair and rested my elbows on my knees.

My shoes didn’t judge me. I bit my tongue from speaking further. I held onto my anger at least. Dominic couldn’t get in, but hell, if I wasn’t pissed enough to let him in for some punishment.

The lightest touch like a hummingbird hovering on my back calmed me. Heather leaned against my arm, her hand placed just above my shoulder blade. Her cheek against my shoulder, she sighed. “Sometimes I wonder which Paul you are. The one that doesn’t make me wait for a sign that you like me or the one that holds himself back and doesn’t touch me or smile or even talk much.”

She lifted her hand and played with the hair just brushing the collar of my tee. Her fingers traced around to my ear. I think my
heart pumped at the speed of light. I turned my head in my hands and met her doe-eyed gaze.

“Why do you trust me so much?” I didn’t know what to expect, but her answer about dropped me to the ground.

“Because you stopped when you bit me in the van.” She lifted her head and looked down at the ground.

“You felt that? I… I thought you were out. How did you not react? I made you bleed.”
My mind reeled.

She shrugged and kicked at a rock.
A slight smile lightened her face when she looked at me. “My adoptive parents trained me to sit through anything without showing emotion. They were pretty horrific.” Her weak laugh didn’t make it far. “You never asked how Grandma Jean is my real grandma but I was raised by different parents. You have to be curious… Right?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think it was my business, you know?” I didn’t have a lot of rights to her. She was out of my league, far too good for me. I’d done things I wasn’t proud of, things she could never know.

She rocked into me, a smile in her voice. “You can ask me anything, Paul.” Heather fingered a curl resting at the base of her neck. “I’m not completely sure of the reasoning behind it. Grandma Jean only told me it was a trade for education or something. They needed a daughter because the one they’d had died of complications, or something. They promised my mom all kinds of stuff. None of it came true, though.”

I didn’t answer. I thought I’d had it bad.

Heather leaned in and pushed her lips toward mine. I turned my cheek and her soft mouth landed above my jaw. She pulled back, embarrassment in her clenched jaw.

The chuckle broke free, drenched in pain
and regret I wanted to drown in. “I’m sorry. You know we can’t. What if… Unh, I’m just sorry. Sheesh.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and dropped my hand. “Can I just say,” I leaned back, resting my forearms on my thighs and then, following her suggestion, I reached out and clasped her hand in mine. “We are the two most pathetic of our species?”