Tonight The World Dies (7 page)

“It’s wonderful that you kids want to stay here! However, you’d have to talk to Todd and Andy about going on the run. I put them in charge of that.” Brennan said.

“I’ll do that.” I nodded.

Brennan returned to his coffee, staring out at the lawn before him.

Andy was all for letting me and my friends go with him and his brother. Todd on the other hand, was a bit more weary.

“We don’t really know them, do we? How do we know we can trust them?” Todd said to his brother over lunch.

“They’ve lived on the road this long, they have to know what they’re doing.” Andy fired back.

“Yeah, but can we trust them? What if they survived by cutting people’s throats and stealing their food?” Todd said.

“We don’t kill people, and we don’t steal from others. We take what we need from stores, and that’s it.” I said. “I understand your concerns Todd, I really do, but you have to trust that we don’t hurt the people who help us. And besides, we are currently living with you. You have to put more trust in someone who’s a few room away while you’re sleeping than someone you take with you on a short trip.”

“If they don’t want our help, why are we even trying to offer it?” Dean asked.

“Come on bro, let them help out!” Andy said.

Billie batted her eyelashes as Todd. “Please?”

“Oh, all right. But we do it my way!” Todd said.

After lunch, I pulled Billie aside. “Why are you so insistent on going? And what was with the eye thing?” I asked. “You don’t normally flirt with guys like him.”

“Because Todd’s cute!” She answered.

I rolled my eyes.

The expedition rolled out the next morning. My friends and I piled into the RV with Todd driving, and Andy sitting uncomfortably close to me at the table.

“What’s with all this stuff?” He asked, pointing at the reloading equipment.

“I use it to reload bullet casings and shells.” I said.

“You know how to do that?” He said, wide eyed.

“Yeah, my dad taught me when I was a kid.”

Where’s your dad now?” He asked.

“He didn’t make it when the infection took over our town.” I answered.

“Oh.” He said, and looked away. He stopped smiling, and refused to make eye contact with me the rest of the drive. Thank God!

Ten minutes later, we slipped into a store, its shelves almost completely empty. Todd and Andy led us to the storeroom in the back, where a few dozen boxes remained untouched. I read the labels as we piled some of them into a cart. Coffee, toilet paper, soap: things that used to be considered common household items, and where now luxuries. Andy grabbed Sully and wandered over to the pharmacy at the front of the store, coming out minutes later with a basket full of bottles.

We hightailed it outside and loaded the RV quickly. It was oddly quiet. The birds that chirped happily when we had parked were now silent, the wind no longer whistled through the trees. We were all worried.

“Hear that?” I said.

“No, nothing.” Todd said.

“That’s exactly it. Creepy isn’t it?”

He looked around, suddenly a bit more worried than before.

Something scraped against the pavement on the other side of the RV. I tightened my grip around my gun. I knew what was waiting for us just out of sight, and I hoped I was wrong. It scraped again, like a shoe dragging across gravel and asphalt. A female moaned softly, like she was calling out to us. I knelt down next to a tire, looking to see how many zombies were headed toward us. Only one pair of legs was visible on the other side.

“I only see one.” I mouthed at the group.

Todd sidestepped around the back, his rifle raised, ready to shoot. Billie and I followed closely behind, Andy, Dean, and Sully went around the front. A single female zombie stood between us, her rotted face stretched into a kind of grin, her blackened teeth bared.

“No,” Todd whispered, horrified. “Oh God, No!”

She shuffled toward him, and I aimed, ready to shoot. All my insecurities from the start of the outbreak flooded back into me. I didn’t want to shoot her, but I knew I might not have a choice. Todd looked over at me when the safety clicked off.

“What are you doing? Don’t shoot her!” He yelled.

The zombie turned toward him, growling as she shuffled forward.

“What do you mean, ‘don’t shoot her?’ It’s a zombie!” Billie said.

The zombie turned to us again, following the new voice.

Todd set his riffle down and walked up to her, his hands held out before him. The zombie lunged, snarling, and Todd backpedaled toward a tree.

He mumbled something I couldn’t hear, seeming to plead with her. I raised my gun again.

“Don’t shoot her.” Andy said, rushing to my side. “Let him handle it.”

The zombie lunged again, her arms swinging wildly.

Grabbing a broken tree branch, Todd stabbed her through the heart, tears running down his face, his mouth set in a line of grim determination.

“Did you just stab her with a tree branch?” Billie asked, amused. “Major props for creativity!”

He stood over her, sopping up his tears with one hand, and with his gun clutched in the other, finished her off.

Though it was neither the place, nor the time, I had to burst into song.

“Unbreak my heart, say you love me again. Undo this curse that you caused when you walked out the door and… too soon?” I said, noticing all eyes on me, Todd glaring openly from where he stood, shaking.

“You are so weird!” Andy said. “And kind of a jerk.”

“Weird? Me? No, I just have this thing called personality. It’s kind of a rare trait these days.”

Andy looked more closely at the zombie, and then stood in front of me, blocking his brother from my view. “That was his girlfriend.” He whispered.

“Oh. Oh god.” I gasped. Leaning around Andy, I called to Todd. “I am so unbelievably sorry. I didn’t know!” I said.

He didn’t speak to anyone for the rest of the day, unloading our spoils in unyielding silence when we returned to the house. I didn’t blame him. In the past year I had grown hard, not really caring who the zombies once were, but seeing his face, hearing him sobbing quietly, reminded me of what I was still going through; the realization that they might still be human. I tried to make myself numb to it all, but moments like these seeped through and I felt my heart breaking a little more for him.

“What’s with your brother?” Megan asked Andy.

“We found Brianna at the store. He stabbed her through the heart with a branch.”

“Oh,” She said, slightly horrified.

“And old Comedy Club over here started singing ‘Unbreak My Heart’.”

Megan glared at me.

“I didn’t know! I just thought she was a regular old zombie freak, and he didn’t want to kill her ‘cause she was a chick!” I said.

“It was still insensitive.” Megan said.

“How was I supposed to know? I mean, I can never express just how sorry I am. If I had known they used to be together, I would have kept my trap shut!” I said, my anger flaring up slightly.

“Don’t worry. He’ll get over it.” Andy said, patting my shoulder.

I let that one go. Grabbing the basket of medicine, I turned toward the house. “Where does this go?” I asked.

“Bobby wanted those. He’ll probably be in the basement.” Andy said.

I marched off, headed toward the basement door. It was locked.

“Bobby?” I knocked loudly.

“Yes? A muffled voice yelled from below.

“I have the stuff you asked for.” I called.

There was a loud clank, and the sound of heavy footsteps rushing up the stairs. Bobby unlatched the door and threw it open, looking frazzled. I handed him the basket.

“Did you look inside?” He asked.

“No. Andy grabbed them for you and I just brought them in.” I said.

“Oh, good. Good.” He mumbled.

“Umm…What are they for?” I asked, suspicious. I was afraid he might have some sort of drug habit, or something.

“Nothing for you to worry about.” He said, and slammed the door in my face.

Chapter eleven

“What was that about?” Sully asked from behind me.

I turned around, stunned. “I have no idea.”

“Did I just hear a door slam?” Amy said, coming down the stairs.

“Yeah, Bobby just slammed the door in my face after I gave him the stuff he asked for from the pharmacy.” I answered.

“Oh, he does that sometimes. It’s nothing to worry about.” She said. She smiled, but I could tell it was a bit strained.

Dinner that night was tense. Todd refused to speak to me, and only used one word answers or nods with everyone else, and where he glared at me constantly, Bobby wouldn’t even look in my direction.

“So, Bobby, how are you today?” I asked, trying to break the ice.

“Fine.” He mumbled into his plate.

“So…um, what are you doing…” I started.

“Who’s ready for dessert?” Brennan interrupted me.

“…Tonight? I was going to suggest a rousing game of scrabble.” I finished.

Why was everyone acting so odd?

“No, thank you. I have work I need to do. It’s National Novel Writing Month after all.” Bobby said.

“What?” My friends and I stared at him.

“National Novel Writing Month? Thirty days of literary abandon.” He answered.

“We know what it is.” Dean said.

“We did it every year in high school.” Billie added.

“We just thought it was June.” Sully said.

“Oh, yes. It’s the summer camp version. I’ve been working so hard on it, I get rather distracted. You know how writers get.” Bobby laughed nervously.

Somehow, I didn’t think writing a novel was the only thing going on down there.

Chapter twelve

Bobby seldom came upstairs after that. Amy would coax him upstairs for meals, but other than that, he remained locked in the basement 24/7. My concern was mounting. What exactly was he doing down there? Why did he have fresh scratches every time he came up, that he would try to hide? And why would he lie about it being November?

I sat in the RV, reloading the last of the shotgun shells before moving on to the bullet casings. It had been four days since the supply trip, and Todd had only just started really talking again.

“Good Morning!” Andy said, sticking his head through the open door.

I sighed. “I see my assassin has failed to kill you again.”

He sat next to me, studying the reloading equipment in front of me, and the bomb supplies stashed in the open cupboard behind me.

“You learned how to do all this as a kid?” He asked.

“Yes. My dad was in the military. He wanted a son, but got me instead.” I said.

There was a long, blissful pause.

“What did you want to be when you grew up?” He asked.

“Emperor of all mankind. Failing that, a lion tamer.”

“And that stuff?” He pointed to the bomb supplies.

“We all have our hobbies. Grandma knits, the hobo outside the liquor store collects cans…I blow stuff up.” I said.

Samuel knocked on the side of the RV, standing just outside the door. “Are you still going to teach me to reload bullets?” He asked.

“Sure thing kid. Come on up.” I said. “You’ll have to sit next to me. Take Andy’s spot. It has the best view.”

Andy moved grudgingly, Samuel only too happy to join me. I taught him the finer points of measuring the pellets for shells and gun powder for both, and how to pack them carefully. The easiest part was setting them on the tray and using the lever to set the bullet in, or fold over the shell sides to hold the pellets in, though it still took a steady hand.

“What’s going on?” Sully said, walking up to the table, two delicious looking apples in his hands.

“I promised Samuel I’d teach him the tricks of the trade.” I said.

“Awesome.” He handed me an apple and sat down across from me. “How’s he doing?”

“Quiet well.” I said. “The kid’s a natural.”

I smiled at Samuel and he beamed up at me.

We finished up the set, three full boxes of bullets now ready to use. The children played tag in the grass most of the day, their laughter spilling in through the open door and windows.

Some days later, something woke me so suddenly I forgot where I was. I had been dreaming of something strange. I tried to recall it, but gave up the moment I realized what had pulled me from my slumber. Thunder rumbled through the inky sky. In the pitch black of the room, the sound of a torrential downpour dominated all else. I rolled off the bed and stepped to the window, parting the curtain with both hands. Bright white light flashed, blinding me. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four one thousand. Thunder rumbled again. I took a deep breath, the scent of moist dirt slowly filling the room through the open window. Smiling, I inched my way back into bed, unable to see anything. Lightning again- bathing the room in bright, pure white light, penetrating my closed eyes. I counted the seconds- three- until the next thunderclap. I lay there, tired, unable to fall back asleep. The rain eased back, turning into a steady drip; the thunder low and long. The objects around me slowly took shape. I looked to the window as light crept in. The longer I stared at it, the brighter it got. The rain picked up again. I could soon identify the contents of the room, still where I had left them when I went to sleep. I softly treaded back to the window. Looking out, I could see the trees and the grass. The clothes line sagged, sopping wet. It must have been around six AM. The others would be waking soon and another day of work would begin. If this kept up, I would be soaking wet within minutes of stepping outside. Smiling placidly to myself, I dressed, forgoing a sweater for a long sleeved shirt. No point in getting more things wet than necessary. I laid out an old tee shirt and sweats, lovingly adding a woolen sweater my mother had made for me to the top of the pile, all ready for me to change into when the work was done. I sighed, thinking of a warm fire and hot chocolate. Inexplicably, the memories of Christmases past popped into my mind. Snow, hot chocolate, eggnog, warm sweaters and socks; a brightly lit tree with ornaments older than I was. My happy family. Mom knitting by the fire, my tiny fingers trying to copy her speed as I made tiny angels and birds to add to the tree. Dad beaming at us whenever he looked up from his book. He was reading aloud A Christmas Carol- the full version- from an old leather bound book that always smelled a little musty. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I wiped them away as I pulled on my boots, making sure my face was dry before going downstairs.