I scan what’s left of Fort Ross. The battle is over. Rosario’s people are all dead.
Half of the fence has been destroyed. Men and women work the well, pumping water onto the flames. Four of the motor homes are beyond repair. All that’s left of my RV is a blackened pile of smoldering steel. People scurry back and forth with wounded. The zombies are being driven out of the fort by a salt-and-pepper haired man with a tape recorder.
I turn in a slow half circle, my eyes searching, searching ...
I spot Shaun. He’s exactly where he’s been for the last twenty-four hours, tied to the laundry pole.
My heart crumples at the sight of his wrecked, dying body.
I stride toward him, surprised to feel tears stinging my eyes. Bella follows in my wake. We stop before him. My pulse kicks up as I take him in, breathing hard.
He’s still alive. The sickness of the zombie bite is apparent. The wound is encrusted with maggots, flies, and dried blood. Ugly, grayish-red veins creep up his neck. His irises are covered in a light white film. By the way he blinks up at me, I know he’s having trouble seeing.
I scan the nearby bodies, searching for a knife. Bella spots one first. She retrieves it from the body of one of our people. Cleo had been her name.
Bella hands me the knife with the reverence of an acolyte. Her body is coated in blood. Her eyes are wild and fierce.
Thank God I’d gotten to her before it had been too late. I’d been too late for Steph, but at least I’d saved one of them.
I take the knife from Bella. I slice through Shaun’s ropes. The knife is dull, forcing me to saw, but I get through them.
Shawn stumbles as the ropes fall away. I catch him in my arms and gently lower him to the ground. Cradling him in my lap, I press a kiss to his forehead.
Bella stands at a respectful distance with the chunk of wood from the wall. Her eyes scan the area, alert for any threat that may come our way. She’s protecting my last few moments with Shaun.
This is the end. Shaun’s time on earth is over. Our time together is over.
Sadness seeps across me in a slow warmth. I realize with a shock that my anger is gone, snuffed out. I don’t know if it’s a temporary paralysis that will return once the shock of the battle wears off, or if some part of me is returning back to life.
“I don’t want you to go,” I whisper.
A strangled sound gargles out of Shaun’s throat. His hand comes up to cup mine.
“I’m sorry, Jessie,” he slurs. “I’m sorry for everything.”
“Me, too.” I hunch over at the pain and sorrow that grip me. “I love you.”
“You’ll always be my angel.”
Angel. That’s what he used to call me when we were married. Angel.
His hand tightens over mine. I stare into his filmy eyes. And even though I know he can’t see me clearly, he can see well enough. Our entire life passes between us. I gather the memories close. I gather him close.
When I take in the shape of his eyes and brow, I see Claire. His sharp nose full mouth had been inherited by our other daughter, May.
There’s a moment when I feel like the four of us are together again. Me, Shaun, Claire, and May.
The sensation lasts for the span of a heartbeat. The wind shifts around me and blows it away. It’s just me and my dying ex-husband.
“Is he ...?”
I look up. Alvarez hurries toward us. He’s covered in soot and blood. He looks like he just fought his way out of hell, but he’s alive.
He drops to the ground on Shaun’s other side and squeezes his friend’s hand. A spasm flashes across his features as he takes in Shaun’s condition.
“We made it, brother,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “We beat them. Fort Ross is ours again.”
A smile pulls at Shaun’s mouth. His eyes shift from me to Alvarez, then back to me again.
“Take care of each other,” he says to us.
I choke on a sob and kiss him one last time.
Then I slide the knife into his temple. Shaun slumps, finally released from the prison of his body.
He’s gone. Really and truly and completely gone from my life.
I don’t even have our children anymore.
Head and shoulders bowed, I bend over his body in silence. I have no tears, but I do feel sorrow. True, genuine sorrow.
It’s more than I’ve felt in the last six months.
40
Hope
JESSICA
I stand naked in the ocean as the sun warms my face.
Half a mile north, I watch the woman named Kate. Using an alpha recording, she drives the last of the zombies toward a one-hundred-foot cliff above the ocean.
Alvarez credits her with his survival during those initial days of the outbreak. He’s never shared any of the details of those days with me, but I can well imagine this woman inspiring Alvarez. I saw her sobbing over the body of a young man she lost in the battle. Anyone with that much love in her heart is inspiring. And since she traveled all the way here on foot to help us, she’s clearly as tough as shit. I might not know her, but I already like her.
With Kate are the survivors who traveled with her from Arcata. Ben. Caleb. Ash. Reed. Anyone can see they’re a tight-knit group. They follow Kate in a loose circle, ready to kill any zombie that gets too close to her.
My body shivers as the cold salt water of the Pacific Ocean buoys me up. It washes away the depraved acts endured by my body. It feels fantastic.
It’s the first time I’ve been alone today. Bella has hardly left my shadow since I rescued her in the battle. But when Alvarez asked for volunteers to help dig the graves for our dead, she stepped up. I’ll find her later and check on her.
I tread water, letting the swells of the ocean lift me up and down. When a wave crashes over my head, I don’t even care that my eyes sting from the salt.
One by one, I watch the zombies drop over the side of the cliff. It’s a sheer drop onto body-shredding boulders. It won’t be long now before every last one of them is gone.
The freezing water continues to rush up and down my body with each surge of the ocean. I close my eyes and let it drench me to my core. The cloudy sky turns the skin of my closed eyelids a light pink.
I don’t know how long I float there. It feels like forever, and yet not long enough.
Behind me are footsteps on the sand. I hear the soft grind of grains. It’s barely a whisper. But even soaking wet in the ocean and with the battle behind us, my senses are still on high alert. I turn.
“Hey.” Alvarez stops ten paces away from the water. “It’s just me. I was looking for you.”
“Looks like you found me.” I turn back toward the water. Maybe if I’m not friendly he’ll get the hint and go away. I’m not in the mood for company.
He doesn’t.
Instead, he sits down in the sand. “How are you holding up?”
I decide not to pretend. Pretending is a waste of time and quite frankly, time feels like a precious commodity today.
I turn around and face him, swimming close enough to shore that my feet touch the ground.
“I was a mess before the apocalypse. Then I lost my kids. I was raped seven times in one day. I lost Shaun. I’m really fucked up, Alvarez.”
His gaze is steady. When he looks at me, I feel like he sees all the way down.
“I don’t pretend to know what you’ve been through. But I guarantee you I’m every bit as fucked up as you are.” He looks away and sighs. “Why do you think I work so hard for this community? I can at least sleep when I’m exhausted.”
“You don’t really expect me to believe that you pour your heart and soul into this community just so you can sleep at night?”
A smile curls the corner of his mouth. “You don’t believe me?”
“No,” I say flatly.
He shrugs. “It feels good to build something in the midst of all the destruction.”
Yes. That was the truth of it. His work at the fort feed
s his soul. That’s something I can understand. I felt the same thing every morning when I cut off the crust from May’s sandwiches. I felt it when I ironed Shaun’s shirts. I felt it when I measured and cut yarn for Claire’s Kindergarten class.
Maybe Shaun was right. Maybe Alvarez and I aren’t so different.
I exit the water. Alvarez’s jaw drops at the sight of my naked body. He scrambles to his feet, trying to figure out where to look. He settles for looking at my pile of clothing, discarded next to a rock. He makes an awkward attempt to hand them to me.
I wave them away. “I’m burning those.”
“Oh.” He drops them as if the fabric might burn him. “Do you have any other clothes?”
“Back in the fort.” I hadn’t thought to bring any with me. When I walked out here, the only thing on my mind was getting clean.
I sit on the sand and let the surf wash over my toes and calves, not caring that I’m completely exposed. I’ve been seen by nothing but dogs and monsters in the last twenty-four hours. It feels good to be seen by someone who is neither of those things.
I feel him fretting over my nakedness. I ignore him. I’m comfortable. A few hours ago, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be comfortable again. No one is going to spoil this feeling for me. Even if I am starting to shiver from the cold.
Something warms drops over my shoulders. Alvarez’s blue flannel shirt. I pull it around me, softly inhaling his scent.
“Is that enough? Are you warm? Do you want me to go up to the fort and get anything else for you?”
“No. This is fine. Thank you.” I fasten the buttons, wistful to realize that I wouldn’t mind wearing Alvarez’s shirts on a regular basis. Too bad I’m so much older than him. Among other obstacles.
Still ... there was that thing Shaun said. I haven’t been able to completely forget about it.
Alvarez waits for me to finish securing his shirt before sitting down next to me. He doesn’t speak. We sit in easy silence, watching Kate drop zombies over the cliff. The moment is as perfect as I could ever hope for.
“I’m going to light a few bottles of wine on fire and drop them over the cliff when Kate is finished,” Alvarez says. “Incinerate the bodies before the tide comes in.”
“You should drop Rosario and her assholes over the edge, too.”
“I plan to.”
I like the ferocity in his voice.
“What did Shaun say to you?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“Before he opened the gates to Fort Ross and let Rosario in. What did he say to you?”
It’s not that I don’t believe Shaun. It’s that I want to know for sure if his words really had the effect he claimed they had on Alvarez.
Alvarez picks up a handful of pebbles and tosses them into the ocean, one by one. He doesn’t move or even react the first time the surf rushes past his shoes, soaking his feet.
I wait. I’m not letting this go.
Alvarez throws twenty-seven pebbles into the water before he finally makes eye contact with me. “He asked me to look after you.”
As the words leave his mouth, I finally see what Shaun saw: the way Alvarez looks at me. Not as just another sheep in his flock. When he looks at me, I feel like I am his flock. I can’t remember the last time someone looked at me like that.
“I’m going to kiss you.” I deliver these words the way a captain tells his crew the ship is sinking. I give Alvarez to the count of three of protest or make a run for it.
He just looks at me, eyes round with surprise. When I get to three and he’s still sitting next to me, I grasp the back of his neck and pull him toward me.
The kiss is salty and warm and sweet. I marvel at the feel of it. It’s so much more than pure physical sensation. Something deep stirs inside me at the contact. It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything beyond anger that I can’t put a name to what it is I’m feeling.
Then a huge wave barrels into us. Stinging water flings us sideways. I’m knocked to the ground and end up with a mouthful of saltwater. Alvarez’s weight rolls over me. A large abalone shell grinds into my ribcage.
I sit up, spitting and wiping at my eyes. I peel long strands of hair away from my face.
A sound tickles my ears. It takes me a moment to register it for what it is: laughter.
Alvarez sits up next to me, chuckling as he wipes saltwater from his face. He grins at me.
His mirth and good humor are infectious. I can’t find laughter within me—not yet, anyway—but for the first time in a long time, I find myself smiling. He pulls me close and kisses me again. There’s sand between our lips this time. I couldn’t care less. Maybe Shaun was on to something.
I’m the first to pull away. “You know I’m fucked up. Like, really fucked up. You could not pick a worse woman in the fort.”
“Don’t care.”
“I could have an STD.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He shrugs. “We can deal with it, whatever the case.”
“I’m older than you ... how old are you, anyway?”
“Twenty-four.”
The air swooshes out of me. “I’m nine years older than you.”
“Don’t care.”
“There are a lot of women in the fort who would be better for you.”
This raises both of his eyebrows. I stare at him, willing him to see the truth of everything I’ve said in the past thirty seconds.
I make up my mind not to be disappointed if he walks away. It would be for the best.
“You forgot to mention you might be pregnant,” he says after a long beat. “I don’t care about that either, Jessie. I’ll love any baby that comes out of you.”
My hands move on their own accord. They cover my belly and squeeze.
What I wouldn’t give to have another child. Children. I always wanted more children.
The notion of having babies with Alvarez sets me on fire. I swallow and look away, not wanting him to know how much his words mean to me.
My voice is hoarse when I at last speak. “I—I don’t think any of those assholes got me pregnant. I have an IUD.”
“Either way, it doesn’t matter.” He reaches out one hand and brushes a wet, salt-encrusted strand away from my face. “What happened to you in that RV with those—those fuckers doesn’t change the way I feel about you. We’ll deal with the consequences together.” The side of his mouth quirks. “Nice job killing them, by the way. Shaun mentioned you were an animal on the tennis court. Thanks to you, tennis rackets are now on the short list of favorite zombie weapons.”
I. Will. Not. Smile. I. Will. Not—
Against my will, I smile.
“Do you remember that day we cleared out those houses on Mountain House Road?” he asks.
I remember that day. “We found all that flour and sugar in the caterer’s house.”
Alvarez waves a dismissive hand. “I’m not talking about the food. Remember when Steph went into the barn and nearly got herself bitten by a zom that fell out of the hay loft? You pushed her out of the way.”
Steph. Her name invokes pain in the deepest part of me. “I did that because I wanted the zombie to fall on me. I wanted to die.”
“Bullshit. It was because you cared.”
I don’t respond, replaying that day over again in my mind. It’s impossible for me to forget the way my chest seized when I saw that zom falling from the loft straight for Steph. Just like it had back in the fort when I saw what would happen to her and Bella if I hadn’t volunteered.
“When Rosario asked for volunteers, Bella told me you were the only one who raised your hand.”
I open my mouth to protest, but Alvarez quiets me with a gentle hand over my lips.
“You are the bravest and most selfless woman I’ve ever met. I never said anything to you because Shaun was my friend. I considered him a brother. He told me about Richard, but I knew he still cared about you.”
“Not in the way you’re talking about.”
“I didn’t know t
hat at the time. I didn’t want to risk my friendship with Shaun so I stayed away from you out of respect for him.” Sadness flits through his eyes. I know he’s missing Shaun.
I’m missing him right now, too.
“I want to see where this goes, Jessie. You and me.” Alvarez’s index finger points back and forth between us. “We risk our lives just by waking up every day. I don’t want to die never knowing if we could have something.”
Have something. A fissure breaks open in my chest. Emotion overwhelms me. Tears sting my eyes.
I wipe them away in shock. I haven’t cried since the day May and Claire died.
I grab onto Alvarez, pulling myself into him. His arms come up and he holds me while the waves wash over our feet. I cry softly into his shoulder.
I cry for Shaun, for May, for Claire, and for Steph. I cry for everyone we lost in Fort Ross. I cry for myself and the horror of my twenty-four hours in the RV. Hell, I even cry for Richard.
As the tears flow, a new feeling rushes into me. Something I haven’t felt in a long time: hope.
I hold onto that feeling, never wanting to let it go.
41
The Real Dead
KATE
One day after the battle at Fort Ross, we gather to bury our dead.
The bodies are lined up in two rows beside the well. Eighteen in all, including those who had been partially fed to the zombies before the battle started.
I kneel beside Eric’s body, gently wrapping it in a sheet. With me are Ben, Caleb, Ash, and Reed.
We’ve all been patched up. Ash was shot in the shoulder. The graze I took in the arm turned out to be deeper than I thought. The two of us now sport stitches. She and Ben are covered with bruises and cuts from their beatings. Caleb has a long gash across his thigh and several cuts on his arm. Lucky for us, there’s a real doctor in Fort Ross who tended us.
Only Reed escaped the battle without physical wounds, but he’s barely spoken since Eric died. My light-hearted, jovial Reed hasn’t cracked one joke. It breaks my heart to see him this way.
I finish securing the sheet around Eric.
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