Tonight The World Dies (3 page)

“Dean, take the wheel,” Sully called from the front.

Dean walked off, shaking his head at me. They traded places smoothly, the RV barely slowing down. Sully took out his gun, checked that the safety was on, and placed it on the passenger seat. He approached me slowly, kneeling down next to Billie.

“Can you give us a minute?” he asked her.

“Sure,” She said, and went to join her brother.

He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. He just rubbed his hand back and forth down my arm, letting me lean my head against him.

“I’m ok,” I finally whispered. My eyes were dry now, but I didn’t really trust my voice.

“You’re not ok, and you never will be, but I love you anyway.” He said.

Tears streamed from my eyes again and I buried my face in his chest, my arms wrapped firmly around his middle. He held me close, one strong hand on my back, the other softly petting my long mane of burgundy hair. After a while, I looked up at him, my eyes red and puffy, but still mostly dry. “So it took the end of the world to actually provoke an emotional response from you that wasn’t anger.” He teased.

I pulled away, shoving him playfully, a smile pulling at the corners of my lips. “Jerk.”

I used to think of him as a brother, a friend. But now, I don’t know. Maybe it was the fact that we might be some of the last people on earth talking, but now it was different, like I had felt this undeniable love for him all this time and just never noticed. Or maybe it was my emotional state and his kindness messing with my head. Who’s to know? Bracing myself against him, I rose slowly to my feet. I had to distract myself before I started making out with him. Ugg. It was like I was back in high school again, fawning over some guy just because he was nice to me. Except this wasn’t just some guy. This was Sully.

Thinking back to that group, the one who had been documenting everything, I recalled the way the youngest girl sat in easy silence. Her name was Kat, and she was gorgeous enough to be a model. Her long red-blond hair, more red than blond, hung loose around her shoulders; a crocheted cap sat delicately on the back of her head. I remembered the way she smelled, like charcoal and grass. A sketch pad rested atop her jean-clad lap, hiding a few of the rips and holes. She had been sketching Dean, oblivious to the murmurs of the rest of her group.

I slid down to sit next to her, matching her silence. After a while, I spoke up.

“Why do you do it?”

“Hmm?” She didn’t look at me, instead keeping her eyes on her drawing.

“Why do you write everything down? Why do you draw so many people?”

“I want to remember them,” She said. Her voice was light- fairy like, but still full of a hidden personality.

“Why would you want to do that?” I said, thinking of all the people I was glad to forget.

“Everyone deserves to be remembered, even if they come back as one of them.”

She was right.

Back in the present, I poked through the cupboards, focusing my full attention on each can and box before me. Anything to take my mind off of where it should not, under any circumstances, go, right? Three cupboards later, I found the one thing I had been craving for the last six months: chocolate cookies! I drooled just looking at them. Their dense, chewy texture and chocolaty overloaded flavor rolled across my tongue, courtesy of my imagination. They were probably long since expired, but I didn’t care. They were chocolate, and they were cookies. That’s all that mattered to me, and that’s all that counted to the others.

“Oh children, look what I found!” I called, dangling the bag in front of me.

“Cookies!” They yelled.

Dean pulled the RV to a squealing stop, everyone lurching forward with the force. At least we knew the breaks were good. When we were safely in park, I was under siege from three pairs of grabbing hands, each more desperate than the last for the first taste of delicious chocolaty junk food.

“Calm down!” I said.

“Stop hogging the damned cookies!” Billie said, snatching at them and missing, latching onto my boob instead.

“Ok, enough!” I shouted, crouching down and crawling away from them, elbows striking their legs randomly. “If you would give me two freaking seconds, I could open the bag and we can have one each.”

They glared at me mutinously, hungry and angry, each of them probably planning a hundred different ways to kill me in my sleep.

“If we each have one, only one, right now, they can last longer. We could have another cookie with dinner, and another with breakfast.” I pulled myself onto the bench seat next to the table, trying to protect myself.

I could see Sully relenting, and the cracked, rusty cogs turning in Billie’s and Dean’s heads as they worked it out.

“Fine.” They said together.

I opened the bag, relishing in the stale scent. All three of them kneeled at my feet, sniffing at the bag. I felt like their mother, handing them a small snack to calm them down before dinner.

“We have to keep moving.” I told Dean, who promptly walked back to the driver’s seat.

We rocked forward, the speed demon at the wheel again. Pulling my battered old deck of playing cards from my clothing bag, I whistled at Sully.

“I want to play a game.” I said in my best ‘Jigsaw’ voice. He raised an eyebrow at me. “Black Jack.”

“The stakes?” He asked.

“Winner gets top bunk tonight, loser has watch duty.” I smiled.

“You’re on.” He said, sitting down across from me.

“How do you play?” Billie asked, sitting next to me.

“Watch, learn, and don’t eat my cookie.” I told her, setting down my half eaten treat to shuffle and deal the cards.

The cards dealt, Sully glanced at his hand and gazed at me, his best poker face firmly in place. “Hit me.”

In a rare moment of perfect timing, Billie and I both reached over and smacked the side of his head.

“Ow, that’s not what I meant,” He said.

“I know,” I said, grinning. I pulled the first card off the deck and flipped it over. It was a five. “I’ll stay.”

I peeked at my own cards, a solid fifteen. Chances were, he had a better hand, so I risked it and took another card, a six. “Dealer stays. What have you got?”

“Eighteen” He said, smiling. “Do you want to go again, or admit defeat early?”

“You should be asking yourself that question.” I said, flipping my cards over with a sickly sweet smile.”

“Damn.” He frowned. “I’m not going down easy. Deal again.”

I gathered the already played cards and set them aside.

“Wait, I don’t get it.” Billie looked between us. “What’s the point?”

“Black Jack is also called Twenty One. The point is to get as close to twenty one as you can without going over. If you do, you bust and automatically lose.” Sully answered.

“Oh,” Billie said.

I dealt again. “Hit or stay?”

“Stay.” Sully answered.

I glanced down at my cards. Crap. I had twenty two. “I’m bust. We’re even.”

He grinned. “So what do you want to do cupcake? Best two out of three, or three out of four?”

“Don’t call me cupcake.” I glared at him. “And I could go all night. Sweetheart.”

Sully and Billie laughed. I handed the deck over to Sully, still glowering. I still didn’t want to think of those…feelings…that stirred themselves into agonizing existence when he held me.

We kept going for half an hour, with me losing spectacularly. I cracked a joke about him stacking the deck, and he slapped the side of my head playfully.

“Alright, I admit defeat. Get to bed.” I said.

“Are you sure? You look like you could use some sleep.”

“I’ll be fine.” I smiled and walked up to Dean, telling him to pull over for the night.

The road cut through an open field, the overgrown grass dry and yellow. Dean and Billie happily fought over the other top bunk, Sully having already staked his claim. Dean won after he yanked her away from the beds and scrambled up before she could find her footing again. She punched him once, hard, and crawled, grumbling into the bottom bunk. They both yanked the curtains closed around themselves and Sully slid silently down, treading quietly to me as I reached for the door.

“Where are you going?” He whispered.

“I was going to climb on the roof. It has a better vantage point.” I said.

“You’ll freeze out there.”

“I’ve got a jacket.” I shrugged.

“Please don’t go out there alone.” He grabbed my wrist, pulling me towards him.

I melted a little at his touch.

“I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself just fine.” I whispered.

“If you insist on staying out there, I’ll go with you.” He said, the sweet jerk.

“Sully.” I whispered, looking into his eyes in the near blackness. “Go to bed. I’ll be fine.”

“No.” He protested.

“Fine. I’ll patrol in here.” I gave up. “You really are an arrogant punk you know that, right?”

He smirked at me.

“Go. To. Bed.” I ordered.

“Fine, fine.” He said, and returned to his bunk for the night.

“And if I see you out here again for any other reason than to go to the bathroom, I will whack you with a spoon.” I whispered after him.

“You know, we can hear you guys.” Dean called from the depths of his bed.

“Well, excuse me princess.” I said. “Shut the hell up, go to sleep, and I won’t ‘accidently’ shoot you for annoying me.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one shooting you for annoying me?” He asked.

“Go to sleep!” Billie snapped.

When everyone was finally quiet, and the only sound was the heavy, peaceful breathing of my friends, I tip toed to the back and gazed out of the window, searching every inch I could see for signs of the undead. I continued searching all night, going from window to window as the guys slept on. I was tired, but the memory of what had conspired earlier that day shattered any hope of tranquility. Normally, I was a night owl, flourishing when I was alone in the dark. Tonight, I was a tightly wound ball of nerves, tears springing to my eyes when I realized, once again, that I had been shooting people. Real people, not just the mindless zombies Hollywood had made them out to be. Sure, they were decaying, but they could think, damn it!

I made my way to the back of the RV again and stared out the window at the rising sun. The sky was a soft shade of blue with delicate pink escaping from the horizon. Something moved just out of sight in the grass, startling me. Pulling the window open as slowly and silently as I could, I rested the barrel of my rifle on the sill, balancing it. Whatever it was moved again, coming closer, making the grass sway.

Chapter three

I activated the laser sight and trained it on the spot the thing would be coming out of. It moved even closer, hesitating just outside of my view. The grass rustled softly for a moment, and a striped, mangy looking cat slinked onto the road, staring at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was crazy. Who freaking cared anymore? I debated briefly on whether or not I should shoot it to have for breakfast, but thought better of it. The thing didn’t look too healthy.

Billie yawned and pulled herself out of bed, stretching. “Anything interesting happen?” She asked.

“Oh yeah, big, amazing stuff. I saw a cat.”

“A cat?” She repeated.

“And not just any cat. It was the size of a grizzly bear.” I joked.

She froze momentarily, stunned, and then laughed. “Good one.” She said and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her with her foot. She came out five minutes later, fresh faced. “Toilet is kinda rudimentary, but god, it’s so good to have a bathroom again!” She smiled down at me.

“Awesome.” Was all I could reply.

We prodded the boys awake and I slipped my pistol under the pillow of the only bunk that hadn’t been occupied.

“All right you crazy kids, you know the rules. I’m going to get some sleep.” I yawned. Dean rolled his eyes and plunked down in the front passenger seat, Sully sliding in behind the wheel.

I had almost suggested that Billie drive, when I remember that time we let her drive the minivan, crashing into a tree shortly thereafter, and slammed my mouth shut. I still ached to have Sullys’ arms around me, but I wasn’t going to risk our lives for a bit of comfort. Instead, I nestled myself under the blankets, shutting the light out with the curtains. Eventually the gentle motion of the RV rocked me to sleep.

I was a child again, maybe seven or eight years old, sitting on my fathers’ lap in our hunting cabin while my mother cooked dinner.

“But Daddy, I don’t want to shoot Bambie’s daddy” I whined.

“I know you don’t kiddo, but there is going to come a time when you need to know how to survive by yourself; when there’s no other food source around.” He said.

I had already learned how to shoot when I was five, and had gotten pretty good at it.

“I won’t have to shoot people will I?” I asked. He had already given me the speech about defending myself in times of need.