Wasting Away (20 page)

“What?”
she asked; excitement in her voice.

I
bundled up the find in my shirt and brought it into the living room.

A
smile of pure joy spread across her face. “Is that what I think it is?”

I
laid the find out on the floor. Five cans of
Dr. Pepper
gleamed in the
morning sun like a small miracle.

“I’ll
wrestle you for the fifth can,” she said.

We
ate a can of cold pasta, passing it between us until it was scraped clean.

“What
I wouldn’t give for a plate of eggs and some bacon,” she said.

“Don’t
remind me,” I told her. “It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to
eat real food.”

We
each took a can of soda and nursed it as we talked. It’s funny that you never
notice how sweet something is until you’ve been without it. Every carbonated
bubble shocked my tongue.

“You
know, if this ever ends and life returns to normal, I’m going to do a
commercial for
Dr. Pepper
,” I said.

“Oh
yeah?” she asked.

“Absolutely,”
I replied. I held the can next to my face. “The only real way to beat the
living dead is with a can of fizzy refreshment! That’s how I managed to survive
hordes of hungry corpses, trekking halfway across the ruined California
wastelands. It’s the only way to be badass in
style
!”

Mary
giggled and held up her can. “I stay looking young by using
Dr. Pepper
three times a day. The nourishing antioxidants are what keep my skin looking fresh
and rejuvenated.”

We
heard a bang at the front door followed by a long, dragging scrape. We went
silent, remaining perfectly still. A deep thud sounded out along the front
window. A knock came from the other side of the house like a melon being
slapped against the siding.

I
held up my hand for her to stay still and stood up from the floor. I eased the
pistol from my waist and crept up to the window, pulling the curtain to the
side a couple of inches.

My
voice was low and steady. “We have to go.”

Mary
put her can of soda aside and stood. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“They
followed us,” I answered. “There aren’t many now, but enough to give us away if
there are any others around.”

“Damn,
I was just getting to like it here.” She collected the other cans of soda and
stuffed them into my pack.

“It’s
like they know when you’re getting comfortable.”

“Maybe
they’ll wander off,” she added.

“I
don’t really want to take that chance.”

I
took my pack from her and slung it over my shoulder. I heard a thud and a
mournful moan from out front. A couple more knocks against the siding, and we
were moving fast through the kitchen.

The
back yard was empty. A long wooden fence cut off the other yards with a gate
positioned in the far rear corner which led to an alley.

With
Mary at my heels, I wound through a knot of lawn furniture to the walkway along
the fence. Deflated moans came from the front, growing in volume as a few of
them spotted us through a crack between a set of loose boards at the front
gate.

“Hurry!”
I barked.

A
corpse crashed into the opposing gate, knocking the remaining boards away.
Gnarled faces followed closely behind, gathering numbers as I tried to pull the
clasp on the rear gate.

Mary
was pressed up against me, pushing me closer to the fence. I tugged the clasp
upward and it gave with a resounding creak. I pushed it to the side and Mary’s
weight threw us both into the alley.

Once
Mary was through, I slammed the gate closed and tossed a couple of garbage cans
in front of it in haste.

“Fuck!”
I hissed. “Run!”

We
sprinted through the alley as I knocked over random garbage cans as we passed,
hoping to slow the impending mob. I looked back as the first few corpses emerged,
stumbling over the obstructions. Another set of disfigured faces glared
through, winding their way around the others, held for just long enough for
Mary and I to get to the intersection.

Straggling
bodies met us as we cleared the alley. Mary weaved through outstretched hands
and ducked between a pair of corpses that had narrowed in on her. A moan like a
releasing drainpipe caught me off guard and I turned in time to see a withered
face, only inches away. I backed up and fell to the ground, my pack wedged
firmly beneath me. I grabbed the creature by the shoulders as it hurled itself
on me, a writhing tongue protruding between once elderly lips. Another body
joined in and toppled over on the weight of the previous corpse, nearly
suffocating me.

I
heard a powerful scream off to my right and was able to glance over as Mary
blurred into sight. She ran with all she was worth and kicked out at the upper
most body. The weight on top of me eased and I threw the elder cadaver to the
ground.

On
my feet, I watched as Mary sent a series of kicks at the first creature’s head,
smearing rotten skin away in layers, revealing the moist tissue beneath. I took
her by the arm and she raised a fist at me before she figured out who I was.

“Let’s
go,” I said, shaken.

Her
eyes flashed at me then over my shoulder. “Look out!” she cried.

I
turned in time to see three more corpses only feet away. I ducked and grabbed
Mary about her waist as I took off in a sprint, guiding her along with me. Once
she gained footing, we were off along the street, a volley of bodies leaking
out from everywhere, blocking our path.

We
cut the next corner and Mary flew past me with an intense look of determination
spread across her face. I did all I could to catch up to her, but she was
faster than I would have ever given her credit for. Her hands were straight as
her arms formed arcs alongside her body. She jumped a fence and crossed a yard
in a flash as I leapt over behind her, trying to catch up.

She
pushed at a gate through to the back yard and nearly tore it from its hinges as
it slapped back into the fence on the other side. I squeezed through behind her
before the gate could snap closed.

As
I entered the yard, she was already on top of a small shed, scaling the roof to
jump to an opposing yard. I leapt up behind her as she cleared the block wall
between the properties. She hit the grass and rolled, using her momentum to get
back on her feet.

I
tossed myself over the wall and hit the ground with a thud. I rolled to my side
and shook off the pain, watching her hit the next gate.

“Goddamn
it,” I muttered as I stood.

She
was out in the road before I caught up to her. I was panting, sweat rolling
from my face as I breathed through a cramp that had set in my stomach.

Mary
took off through a parking lot alongside a bank, dodging through the drive-thru
to the ATM’s. Out through the other side at the corner, she led me along
shopping malls and businesses, worn and battered.

“Wait,”
I said, but my voice was shallow and tired.

She
turned and looked at me. “We have to keep moving,” she said. “I know a place.”
She took me by the hand and pulled me along behind her.

We
crossed a pockmarked lawn to the entrance of a church. It was an older building
with a steeple and a tiny white cross adorning the peak. She took and abrupt
right and wound along the side of the building toward the rear.

“Come
on, through here,” she said, guiding me into a small alcove beneath the church.

At
first, I thought it was a root cellar, modernized with stairs and a doorway.

She
rooted around above the trim to the door and retrieved a shiny brass key. “It’s
still here,” she said, letting out a small laugh.

She
threaded the key into the lock and gave it a firm twist. Once inside, she pulled
me in behind her and locked the door.

I
was panting, leaning against the wall, steadying myself with my other arm
against my leg. “Shit, you’re fast,” I said between breaths.

She
edged a smile. “I used to be on the track team,” she said. “The coach used to
say that I was born for it.”

I
breathed heavy. “Yeah, you’re a natural
Forest Gump
.”

 She
laughed as she pulled out a chair next to a long table. “Have a seat.”

“Thanks.”

“They
used to use this as a soup kitchen,” she explained. “They fed the homeless and
used the church upstairs as a shelter during the week.”

“Yeah,”
I replied, “it looks familiar.”

“Is
it like the one you used to volunteer for?”

I
nodded, still trying to catch my breath. “The one I worked at was above ground,
but pretty much the same concept.”

“Are
you making fun of my church?” she asked.

“Maybe
a little,” I said.

She
grinned and rooted through one of the shelves. “Here have one,” she said,
tossing me a bottle of water.

I
caught the bottle and twisted off the cap. No matter how warm it was, it still
tasted good. I sipped at it as she sat next to me on a foldout chair.

“When
Henry and I were first married, I used to run all the time. There was just
something about the high. The first few miles are the worst and you want to
quit, but when that high comes on and the world blurs around you, it’s just
something else.”

“Why
did you stop?” I asked.

“I
don’t know.” She shrugged her shoulders and took the bottle of water from me.
After she took a swig, she gave it back to me and continued, “It was just one
of those things. As much as I enjoyed it, I thought it was better to do all of
the ‘wifely’ chores.”

“So
you got lazy.” I grinned.

She
slapped my shoulder. “Smart ass,” she said. “No, it wasn’t that at all. I
figured since Henry was out working all the time, the least I could do was help
around the house. Not that he really ever expected me to or anything. He was
actually all right in a lot of ways. I was young and thought that was a part of
growing up: the man goes out and earns a living, the wife stays home and keeps
everything in order.”

“Damn,
how old are you again?” I asked wide eyed.

She
laughed. “I know, right? It’s like something out of a Republican propaganda
film.”

“I
was thinking more along the lines of
Leave it to Beaver
, but close
enough.”

“Yeah,
I know, it was silly,” she continued. “I was just trying to do my part, you
know?”

“Really,
I do understand,” I replied. “My wife did the same thing when we were first
married. I think it’s hardwired in somehow. After a while, everything settles
down and you get into the routine of things.”

“Yeah,”
she said, looking down at her hands. “It’s not the fairytale that little girls
grow up believing.”

“The
funny thing is if I had it to do over again, I would.”

She
looked off in thought. “If I could, I would have tried to pay more attention to
him. I knew there was something wrong. I knew he was staying away from me for a
reason, but I didn’t do anything to find out why.”

I
looked over to her and put my arm around her shoulder. “You can’t blame
yourself for that,” I said. “It’s a pretty piss pour thing to leave the woman
you married behind when the shit hits the fan.”

“That’s
true too,” she said.

“Sometimes
I wonder if it’s just natural to grow apart,” I said, thinking out loud.
“Almost every couple I’ve known ends up living separate lives. They put on a
good show when others are around, but behind closed doors, it’s a different
thing entirely. They fall into a routine of being away from each other as much
as possible.”

“That’s
what Henry and I used to do,” Mary replied. “When we weren’t arguing, we just
tried to keep away from one another. I always wondered what it was that made a
relationship turn sideways so fast. In the beginning, you can’t get enough, you
want to be with the other person so much, you almost want to crawl inside their
skin. Give it a year or so and even the mention of their name makes your
stomach lurch.”

“I
don’t think that’s the way with most marriages,” I told her. “But, to some
degree, you’re right. It’s like you get your fill and even the thought of
another spoonful makes you sick. I always thought I felt that way about my wife
because of what she did to me, but honestly, I had those feelings for a long
time before we started having problems.”

“Maybe
it’s the whole act of marriage,” she said. “It’s like it makes you start
thinking differently. I had a friend from high school and we kept in touch
through the years. She was one of my closest friends. Sometimes we would talk
on the phone for hours about nothing. You know, you start rambling on about
silly things and suddenly half the evening is gone.”

I
nodded. “Like the way you’re doing now?”

She
squinted and pursed her lips. “Just shut up and listen.”