by Gillian Zane
I stepped back.
“I think it’s time I went to bed.” I didn’t meet her eyes as I slunk away like the beat-up pussy I was.
23
Well, if I didn’t have my answer to the question of “did Zeke like me like that?” I had it now. And of all the stupid shit to be preoccupied with, figures I would do the typical stupid girl routine of obsessing over everything a guy did and said when I should have been focusing on important things, like the end of the world. And how to stop it. But, no, like every other thing in my life, I went boy stupid. Like that time I basically flunked out of high school, or the time I didn’t go to college, or the time I almost lost everything I owned. All over being boy stupid.
Screw it, I had more important things to do. I rolled over on the lounger and used my selfie stick to take a quick shot of my side profile.
#Quarantinelife Laying by the pool, bored out of my mind. Hit me up with what you are doing to occupy your time during these crazy times.
“Busy?” I frowned at Zeke’s passive aggressive question. I had been avoiding him after I had saved his ass last night, and he had — he had, what? Gone to bed because he was tired?
“Nope.” As I stood, I thought his eyes would bug out of his head. My bathing suit was basically three triangles and some string. What? I had a fragile ego, and it needed to be constantly reaffirmed, if not, I drowned in a sea of self-criticism and insecurity.
“I wanted to know if you would help me get my bike. I should have the strength to pick it up now.”
I was an idiot. He actually asked if I was busy because he wanted my help.
“Yeah, of course.” I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me.
“We have to be ready to face another one of her followers.” he said and followed me into my house.
“Rag said she had three, right? And we just got rid of one, so she’s probably fuming. Lemme go change; give me ten.” I left him in the kitchen and ran upstairs to my bedroom to strip out of my bathing suit and pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I slid my feet into flip flops and then second guessed that choice and put on tennis shoes, just in case. I didn’t want to be caught unaware if something did happen. Nothing like running in flip flops.
I also grabbed my open carry holster and slipped my little Hellcat in it.
“Alright, you ready?” I jumped down the last two steps and smiled when Zeke startled.
“That was the quickest change I’ve ever experienced with a female,” he laughed, and I frowned.
“Kind of sexist, half the guys I dated took longer to get ready than me.” I rolled my eyes.
“Dating the wrong guys, then?”
“I like ‘em pretty,” I smirked and didn’t wait for his response. I headed for the garage.
On alert, we pulled into the overgrown parking lot that led to the Mother’s psycho killing plant. The area was overgrown with weeds and vines, much more than what I remembered from yesterday, but I was worried about Zeke, so I might not have noticed. Looking around, I would have noticed this; vines were thick and clawing at all the trees that lined the gravel parking lot, and the gravel lot had high weeds poking from it in thick patches. I could barely see the path; the grass was knee high.
“Was it this bad yesterday?” I asked, doubting myself.
“No, I don’t remember it being this bad. Now, was it me or her?” His eyes landed on a pile of debris near the edge of the lot. It looked like someone had cut down a bunch of weeds and left them to rot.
I opened the door of the SUV and immediately smelled death. It was cloying and thick and coming from the pile of plant-matter in the corner. It was the man from yesterday, the one who could throw rocks with his mind. Rock met plant and lost. We had killed someone.
“Let’s do this as quickly as possible.” Zeke hovered over his bike, frowning at new scratches on the side of it.
“Do you need help?” I asked.
“No, I got this.” He turned the wheel and grasped the bike by its handle bars. Is that what you called them on motorcycles, handlebars? Well, whatever they were, he grabbed them, grunted, and the bike went vertical. I’m sure it was heavy, but he made it look like nothing. He stabilized it and began brushing off the gas tank, cursing as he ran his finger along a nasty gash.
“Can it be fixed?”
“I’m sure it can. It was getting time for me to give this up and get a real vehicle. It rains too much and is too damn hot in the summer to make this a practical means of conveyance.”
“Practical means of conveyance,” I laughed. “You’re such a nerd. Maybe it’s time for you to get one of those little electric cars.” It was his time to roll his eyes at me.
The crunch of gravel had me looking up to see a sporty Jeep with huge tires pull in to the lot. I tensed for an attack, but the guy behind the wheel wasn’t paying us any mind. He wrestled with what looked to be two huge labs as they desperately tried to jump out of the open Jeep.
“Chella, Chomp, stop it!” The man jumped out of the Jeep like it was only a foot off the ground, landing with practiced ease. He was around my age, with shaggy blond hair with a surfer boy feel to him. Pretty, party boy was my snap judgement. He coaxed the dogs to join him outside and once they were free, they came barreling toward me and Zeke. “They’re just being friendly!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.
Was this an attack? Attack labs? Whatever it was, I was too late because I was flat on my ass, and there was a big dog about to gnaw my face off. Or lick it off. I couldn't tell.
“Jesus, you two heathens.” The man tugged the dog away from me, and I glanced to the side and saw Zeke had gotten a chest full of dog as well but had fared better since he wasn’t on his ass.
“I’m so sorry,” the guy apologized again. “My sister’s dogs, she hasn’t gotten them trained like the asshole she is. They have no self-control, they’re only puppies. I want to kill her. I’m dog-sitting,” he rambled.
“No big deal.” I stood and brushed the rock dust from my sore ass.
“I’ll get out of your hair. Really sorry. I have something I need to do…” With the way his words faded and the distracted look on his face, I stopped to pay closer attention to the man. He was distracted, not paying attention as the dogs yanked and tugged on their leashes. His eyes were vacant. Far away.
“Hey, let me ask you something.” Zeke blocked the guy’s path. The guy had a few inches on Zeke and a considerable amount of body mass. His eyes focused on Zeke and slitted in an instant display of aggression. Zeke took a deep breath like he was sniffing the guy, a bizarre thing to do.
“What is it, man? Look, I’m sorry about the dogs, they’re just dogs. Y’all ain’t hurt, right, they didn’t bite ya, right?”
“Not about the dogs. Why are you going on that trail? It’s overgrown and about to get dark.” Zeke cocked his head, watching the guy’s every move.
“I don’t know. I just want to. Something about it, you know?” He looked around Zeke frustrated, and it reminded me of someone needing to get a fix. Drugs.
Things clicked, and I stepped forward, pulling on Zeke’s arm to give myself a little room.
“This is going to sound super crazy, but hear me out,” I said in my sweetest and most flirtatious voice possible. The guy did a double-take as I filled it with persuasion and sensuality. Even Zeke blinked in surprise.
“Okay,” he said, his shoulders lowering, not as tense as before.
“You might find something you don’t expect on that trail. You might have to make a decision. Take your time with it, think about what it means to you before you make any kind of hasty decision. Think about what you’ll have to do, think about the morals behind it. You know about morals, right? What’s your name?”
“Liam,” he said his name slowly, lost in my voice.
“Liam, you know about morals, right?” I moved closer, realizing how big he was as I stood within a breath of him. Not a bad-looking guy, either. Young, his shaggy haircut spoke of disarray, but his stance and
the small chain I saw around his neck smelled of military, or military wannabe.
“I’m a Christian, I know about morals.” His words were still slow and methodical, his voice far away.
“Good. When you’re there, you’ll meet someone. They’ll ask you to do something. When you have to make that decision, think about those fundamental morals. You know, being a Christian and all.”
“Wait, what? A decision?” Liam’s voice slurred slightly, as if he’d been drinking. At this point, I could tell him what to do, I could force him to say no, but something held me back from doing that. It had to be his decision, but at the moment, in that second it took for him to say yes or no to the Mother, I could remind him about his morals. Thou shall not kill.
“Yes, Liam.” I placed a hand on his arm and he sighed. “You’ll meet someone, she’ll ask you to make a decision. Remember those morals, Liam. Remember those commandments, Liam. You remember them?”
“Thou shall not kill.” There was pure heartbreak in his voice as it caught over his words. “I’m already damned, lady, already damned.” His eyes focused on me, clear. He looked down at my hand on his arm.
“I’m Miley, this is Zeke.” I glanced over my shoulder at Zeke, and he did some weird half-hearted smile that I could have kicked him over.
“Hey.”
“Look, Liam, if you do meet someone, and if you are asked to make a decision, if you say no to that decision, come find me. Go to the pharmacist on Ferrier and ask him to get Miley a message. I’ll come find you, okay?”
“Sure, I guess, look, I just want to go take theses beasts for a walk.” He looked down at them confused as they sat staring up at him. I had calmed them, asking them to behave.
“Okay, go on, be safe, keep a focused mind.” I put as much of a directive as I could in such an abstract order, but I felt it wrap around him and click.
“I will, nice to meet you, Miley. Zeke,” he nodded.
“Nice to meet you, Liam, hope to see you again.”
“Hope so, too.”
I watched the man walk into the woods, the high grass not a deterrent to the dogs or him. I smelled the scent of Earth and rotting plant life, along with the lingering remains of death in the air. I held back a gag. She was here. She was watching us.
Cheater. The word whispered on the wind. I hadn't though. I hadn’t forced him to do anything but listen.
Walking around the clearing, I peered through the thick underbrush but saw nothing. I felt nothing. There were no predators lurking, but she was here. The modified Jeep Liam had come in was a lot larger when I got closer to it. I walked around the back of the Jeep and saw the Ranger bumper sticker.
“You think that’s why he said he was damned?” I asked Zeke pointing to the sticker.
“Most likely. We’ve put our military through hell in the last few years. And if he was in India, could you imagine what he saw? What he had to do to survive?”
“I can’t imagine.” I shook my head in disgust, thinking about the carnage that took place when China invaded India after the first pandemic.
“You think what you did will work?”
“I don’t know, I hope it does. I don’t want to see anyone signing up for her side,” I sighed.
“You were kind of flirty there.” Zeke stayed by my side as we walked to our rides. I looked up at him to judge whether he was kidding or serious. I couldn’t read his emotions as he looked down at me, his eyes dark, his face shuttered. Tingles wound up and down my arm on the side he was closest to, reminding me there was something here that was greater than the two of us. Either our power was compatible and wanted to be combined, or this was a push to get us together. Either way, it felt like outside forces were pushing us together. The shit thing was, I wanted us pushed together. I did want to explore things with Zeke, see where it took us. But my head was screaming warning signs, or at least, be cautious. If we were stuck together during all of this, what happened if we screwed it all up?
I turned to him, jutting my chin out because I had to look up at him. I wasn’t sure what I was trying to accomplish, but my logical mind was slowly being beaten down from all the physical stimulation going on between us.
“You jealous?” I said it with a smirk, my hand on my hip.
“Yes.”
24
The garden was in full bloom, everything was producing. I had never seen anything like this in all my years that I had been obsessed with plants and growing things. Berries were still being produced on the bushes and vines, even though I wasn’t forcing anything with my gift. It was as if they wanted to produce them, to feel like they were doing good. Like a cat brings a mouse to its owner.
Miley was here with me, clipping and digging, wearing these ridiculously short jean shorts, and a pair of purple, green, and gold rain boots that she called her parade boots. The little top she wore left nothing to the imagination, spaghetti straps and cropped high above her belly button. I kept having to look away every time she got into my field of vision, so I wouldn’t do anything to embarrass us both.
When she picked up a watermelon the size of a toddler and held it up over her head in triumph. The bottoms of her breast peeked out from her tiny top. I wanted to lift her shirt higher and find out what she tasted like. Instead, I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture and then texted it to her like a nice Instagram husband should.
“Ooh, I like that one, I’m going to post it. Photo credit? Oh wait, are you even on Instagram?”
“I actually am, but I never post anything or check it.”
“What’s your screen name?”
“PlantDocZeke.” I shrugged when she laughed, it wasn’t that original.
“I’m going to follow you.” She held up her phone and started typing. I pulled up the app I hadn’t touched in probably a few years and then clicked the notification of the new follow. I wouldn’t say I was surprised at her photos, at the sexuality of them, at the innocence in them, at the joy she seemed to imbue in each shot when she smiled, and the sensuality in the ones where she was serious. It seemed the same talent she had within her voice she had long been conveying in her photos. No wonder she was so well-compensated. She had over five million followers. How does one even get a million followers?
“What are you looking at?” She leaned over my shoulder, her breasts pressing against my back. I was instantly hard, and I tried to adjust without her noticing. I felt like a teenager who couldn’t control himself. Miley was proving to be quite a storm on my emotions.
“You.” I doubled-clicked a video of her shooting, wearing the same little shorts she wore now. The gun was huge, and she was wearing fancy looking tactical glasses, along with noise-blocking ear protection. The vid was in slow motion and with each shot the recoil rolled through her bod, jiggling her ass and making me harder.
“That was so much fun. It’s a farm up there near the Mississippi border. They let you shoot just about anything. Those are a little much, though.” She stepped back, and I missed the touch of her.
“When did you get into guns?” I looked up at her and watched as she went from excited to withdrawn in a moment. Her eyes clouded over, and there was a tightness around her eyes and her forehead. “I’m sorry, did I step in something?”
“No, no.” She held up her hands, sitting in the grass near me with her legs crossed.
“It’s alright.” I sat next to her and took her hand in mine. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“I was in the Quarter during the rampage. I was right there, and I couldn’t do anything.”
“Holy shit, Miley.” I didn’t know what to say or do or how to react to this news. The French Quarter shooting, or the Rampage as Reddit users had labeled it was one of the most horrific mass shootings to happen in the last ten years. The only thing that kept it away from the top spot was the fact that it was all adults. So, I let her talk.
“I was down there for a bachelorette party; we were wearing these stupid hats. I don’t know. Like party hats, but
they had I'm with the Bride or some kind of nonsense. Maybe it was Bride Squad, I can't remember. Stupid. Luckily, or luckily for me, I wasn’t that drunk. We had gotten down there and had only had drinks with our dinner. That’s why we were so close to it, not even past Bienville because we had eaten at Acme. It was insane. They were on dirt bikes and four wheelers, so many of them. And people, bodies littered the street in their wake.”
I took her hand. The news reports were fresh in my mind. It was so close to home, but also because of the carnage of it. They called themselves the Reckoning and posted that they would go on a rampage. It happened in most of the major cities. The worst impacted were New Orleans, Atlanta, Chicago, and Seattle. The point was anarchy and to show people that nothing could protect them. They got what they wanted, and it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. All the dissent stopped after that. People gave up. Everyone huddled in their houses after that, scared shitless. Over three thousand people died in the attacks, close to six hundred in New Orleans alone. They targeted the French Quarter, right after all restrictions were lifted; three different protests were converging at the time, along with the rush of people just to get out of their houses and have fun because they had been cooped up for so long.
“It was so packed that night. I think there was a Saints game or something. There were protestors. I remember that because we chanted with them and they seemed happy, not an angry group. They were protesting the police, I think; it all sort of blurred together in the end. The men on dirt bikes had these bats, with nails in them, like that horror show. They would fire into the crowd, they had automatic weapons, and then race around and hit people with the bats. They were laughing. They never stopped laughing. They sounded high.
