Those Who Remain (Book 2) (12 page)

Nothing beats Roger’s pep talks. He always finds a way to make the impossible sound reasonable. With him, I almost feel like I’m… normal.

“Okay. I’m giving it a shot. But if things go south and I punch Linda, it’s your fault.”

He smiles brightly. “I can accept that risk.”

We laugh, than stare at each other. I don’t think my heart has ever beaten faster than this. Roger clears his throat. “Now that you are staying, maybe you can start teaching me how to hunt."

“Really? Last time you saw a dead deer, you made up an excuse and ran away to vomit.” I give him a smile.

He laughs. “True. But in my defense, you were skinning one at the time.”

The fact is, I did that on purpose. The first time Father took me to hunt, both boys kept pestering me about it, like it was an adventure they needed to see too. They couldn’t understand I wanted to be alone with Father, so I showed them that killing an animal is messy and serious, not some fun trip to the woods. Danny probably still has nightmares about it.

Roger places a hand on the back of his neck. “Things are different now. It’s not a question of personal taste. It’s survival. Our supplies will run out eventually. And Hank's pigs won't feed the whole town."

“Hunting won't help all that much. Even if we kill all the deer in the woods, it won't feed half of these people. And then we will be without any game for next year.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” He shifts his body’s weight from leg to the other. “Actually, this was my poor attempt at asking you out on a date.”

My mouth opens agape. Heat rises to my cheeks and ears. “Oh. I… Really?”

He chuckles. “It's okay if you don't want to.”

I step forward, afraid he’ll back out. “That's not it. I really… I'm okay with that.”

The dimples on each side of his smile are adorable. I can't stop staring at his brown eyes. My own desire to kiss him almost outweighs my embarrassment. I can’t believe he actually asked me out.

“But… Roger, what about, you know?”

“The zombies? Danny? I’m sure we can deal with any zombies we find on the woods. And, Danny, well… He needs his time.”

I shake my head. “Not that. I mean what we talked about, before this whole thing. That night. On the porch.”

His hand goes again to the back of his neck. He’s as embarrassed as I am. There’s some comfort in that. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. It kind of never did.”

I tilt my head to the side and raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t matter anymore. I want to give us a shot. I don’t care about anything else. I was… I made a mistake back then. I hope you still—”

My hands grab him by the neck, pulling him against me. Our mouths collide. His coat falls down to the ground. I feel his hands on my back, and shivers spread all over my body. I force his mouth open wide to make room for my tongue. I’m vaguely aware we are in the middle of the street, without guns or paying attention to our surroundings, but it doesn’t matter. The only things that matter are his hands traveling across my back and the taste of his tongue exploring my mouth. It tastes like chamomile tea.

When our hands move to places less chaste, he moves back, releasing me like I just shocked him with electricity. My frustration has no bounds.

“Lily—”

“No talking.”

I take him by the hand and grab him toward my house with a smile.

The Geek IX

December 18th, Friday, 4 am

Ma raises her sleeves, revealing a deep bite on her right arm.

People talk around me. I see their mouths moving, but my ears don’t register any sounds. Finally, Roger’s hand on my shoulder shocks me to the bone. I struggle him off me.

“We can fix this, okay? Just… Just let me think. It’s… I can fix this. Maybe if we cut your arm off, right? Maybe then you’ll be okay, prevent the infection from spreading but then… Then you’ll bleed out before we get to town. Fuck. I need to go to Whitefield’s hospital. Why didn’t I go a month ago like I wanted? It’s okay. I can do this. The trip isn’t that long.”

“Danny….” Ma grabs my hands. “Please.”

I brush her off. “Ma, stop. Don’t distract me. I’m thinking. Just… Don’t talk, all right? I have to fix this.”

I can hide her in the house. Lock her up. I just need to be careful. It’s doable; it’s okay. It makes sense. I don’t care if this never ends well in the movies. I can make it work.

“Danny. Look at me, honey. You can’t fix this.”

I shake my head. She tries to take my hands into hers, but my feet move back. I look at the ground, black and red. Everything was going so well; we saved the town; we defeated the crazy sociopath. Now she’s bitten? This can’t be happening. It just can’t.

“It’s okay. You are going to be okay.”

Blinking, I raise my head to face her. “Okay? I’m going to be okay? You are dying.
Dying.
Don’t you get it? It’s not going to be okay. It won’t ever be okay!”

She says nothing. I close my eyes hard, head almost exploding from blood pumping into my brain. Everything is fucked up. All I wanted was to keep her safe, to keep everyone safe. “I told you to leave. Why couldn't you just listen for once?”

Her expression is blank. No pursed lips, no pout or frown. She’s white as a ghost. “Because you are my son, and I love you. I couldn’t leave you behind. I don’t regret staying. I needed to save you. Now you need to do this for me.”

She places a gun in my hands. My eyes widen. I’m trembling. My eyes sting with tears. I feel lightheaded, like I’m out of my body, watching this scene from afar. Yet it hurts so much, I can’t speak. I want to scream at her to stop this. Scream and scream, and never stop until I’m out of breath, with not a single ounce of air inside my lungs. I want to scream until my throat is ripped apart. Anything to stop feeling like this.

Instead, I beg. “Ma… I can’t.” I let out a sob. “I can’t. Please let’s just go home.”

Her smile feels like a punch into the stomach. She can’t smile right now. It’s not fair. She can’t do this to me.

“Danny, please. I can’t do this on my own. I can’t pull the trigger alone. You are my son. You are strong. You are brave. You can do this for me.” She reaches my cheek, a cold hand freezing my whole body.

“Ma, I can’t do this. Don’t make me do this.”

“You need to. You’ll never forgive Roger or Lily, if they do it. You need to be brave. Please. I don’t want to come back. Don’t let me hurt anyone.”

“You won’t. I won’t let you. I’ll keep you safe, away from everyone.”

She shakes her head. Her eyes are bloodshot red, and her skin is yellowing. “I can’t let you do that, not after everything we did to keep the town protected. Please, Danny. Before it’s too late.”

My lips tremble. I can’t stop crying. “Ma….”

Her hands close mine around the gun. She points the thing against her temple. I wince, and close my eyes. When I open them again, my vision is blurry.

I place my finger on the trigger.

She smiles. The same smile she gave me when I tried to reach for the Christmas cookies before they were ready. Or when I told her about a really good movie I just had seen, nodding happily without really understanding a word I said. The smile she reserved for Dad’s good days. The one she opened up when a student made her proud. When I made her proud.

“I’m sorry, Ma. I’m so sorry. I screwed up. I fucked up. How am I going to live without you? Half the time I don’t even know how to be human. I’m just a fucking dumb idiot. I need you.”

“You are going to be fine. More than fine—you are going to be great. You’ll find happiness again, Danny. You’ll do the right thing, and keep the town safe. I have faith in you. Just watch your language, all right? For your Ma.”

I let out a half-laugh, half-sob.

She places a hand on my shoulder. “I love you, son.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

“See you on the other side. But not for a long, long time, okay? I want grandsons.”

I gulp, feeling like a stone is stuck in my throat. “Okay.”

She closes her eyes. “I’m ready.”

Someone else pulls the trigger. Someone else takes her into his arms and hugs her cold body against his chest. He touches her stiff hands. He cries and begs. There is nothing else left here, no one still alive. Two empty shells, dark holes of nothingness.

I place the gun in someone’s hands. I them tell to take care of… of the body. Then, I walk away. I don't think I even breathe. I can't feel my feet, or my hands, or my lips. I don't care.

I keep walking, and walking. If I had a choice, I would walk on forever and hope somehow, someway, I stop existing along the way.

I blink at my front door, unsure of how I got there. The stairs greet me, and no one else. I take off my dirty clothes and throw them in the laundry basket. Laundry. I never did laundry in my whole life. Someone else did that. How pathetic. I sit on the corner of my bed, hands on my knees. The wall ahead of me is the same. Twenty years of movie posters. Collector edition signed posters. All trash.

I get up. My hands find the corner of a poster. I tear it up, off the wall. The sound is strange, but not terrible. It's curious how ripping apart paper feels like dying. One by one, I rip them off the wall. Rip. Tear. Repeat. When the walls are empty, and the floor is filled with scraps of actors' faces, I sit down on the bed once more.

The wall is empty, but it still feels wrong. Undeserving. Unfitting. Stupid. Idiotic. Dumb. Incapable. Too slow, too blind.

The computer goes to the ground, its monitor cracking. The desk follows it. It doesn't help. It doesn't change anything. The wardrobe goes next. Still nothing. My collection of statues breaks so easily; I can't even understand how… Someone kept dusting them off every day without breaking them. DVDs, old CDs and tapes. Comics, mangas, graphic novels.

Trash. All fucking trash.

When it hurts too much to throw things around the room, I let myself fall on the bed. My eyes won't close. There is nothing to see, no light shines. Yet I can’t close my eyes.

I hear Roger's voice sometimes. My body refuses to move.
Can I stop now? Can I just disappear?

The sun hurts my eyes, but they won't close. Then darkness fills the room, but I can't sleep.

A pebble hits my window. Then another.

“Danny?”

That's Roger, right?

“Danny, just let me in.”

Did I close the door and the windows? I did, didn't I? I locked it up. Zombies are out there, after all. Somewhere.

“If you won't let me in, I'm going to climb this tree. Are you there? Danny?”

The voice fades away, but the possibility of him getting inside scares the hell of out me. I bolt off the bed, out of the bedroom. I'm in the garage, grabbing wood, hammer and nails. I block the front door, block the back door, the first and second floor windows.

When I'm done, I let out a laugh. For five minutes straight, I can't stop crackling like a crazy idiot. My stomach hurts, my mouth is dry and my eyes sting. My feet take me to the kitchen.

I drink water from the tap and eat the last chips I hid from…

Fuck my diet. I eat the chips. Slowly. They taste like shit.

Eating makes me realize I don't want to die. I want to disappear, stop existing, but not die. I guess that means I need to feel something else. I have to think about me existing, me being alive at some point in the future. Me living on without… without Ma.

I did the right thing. The humane thing. The brave thing. I should be proud, congratulate myself on a job well done. Rule number one of the Zombie Apocalypse and all that shit. Right? Right? Fuck all that.

I want my Ma back.

I don’t have the strength to stop myself from crying like a little boy. Sometime later the tears dry out, leaving me with a massive headache and sore eyes.

The kitchen walls are my only company for hours. Or days. I’m not really sure.

The front door cracks and falls down with a bang. I blink and wait, sitting on the kitchen's table. Roger appears with Lily behind him. They look good. They look happy. Or sane. I feel like crap. Did Roger confess his dumb feelings for her? Did she reciprocate? Who am I kidding? I don't give a fuck.