When We Were Human

by Kate L. Mary

  “I promise, Lilly,” I sobbed into the muddy earth beneath me. “I promise.”

  20

  My neck is stiff, and when I try to sit up, I can’t move. Something’s crushing me. I crack one eye and groan when I see it’s Walker. I had no idea he was such a bed hog. His upper body is draped over mine and his head rests on my chest. He looks content. Like my boobs are the perfect pillow. His lips twitch, and it almost looks like he’s smiling in his sleep. After everything that’s happened between us, he’s probably having some very good dreams.

  “Walker.” He doesn’t move, and I elbow him lightly. “Wake up.”

  He stretches, sending up a puff of dust motes, and they dance across the sunlight shining in through a crack in the curtains. He rubs his cheek against my chest like a kitten begging to have its head rubbed. Not happening.

  “You comfortable there?”

  He opens his eye just a crack and grins up at me. “Best night of sleep I’ve had in years.”

  “So you think that just because I let you kiss me a little—”

  “And see you naked.”

  I roll my eyes. “And see me shirtless… You think just because of that I’m going to be your own personal sleep pillow now?”

  “Will you, please?” He bats his eyes and folds his hands in front of him like he’s begging.

  I bite back a smile and shove him off me. The second he’s off my chest I can breathe better, but now the pressure in my bladder is making me cringe.

  “Maybe if you’re a good boy,” I say, rolling out of bed. “But right now I need to pee.”

  I stumble down the hall to the back door, pausing to check the area before I go outside. I’m doing the pee-pee dance. The one little kids do when they aren’t sure if they’re going to make it to the toilet in time. That’s me. Jumping around on my tiptoes while I hold my crotch, as if that will somehow keep the urine in my bladder.

  The backyard looks clear, and to be honest I’m not sure if I’m going to make it if I wait any longer, so I shove the door open. The sun is insanely bright when I rush into the backyard, making me squint, but I go on memory. Making a right and heading toward the same bush I peed behind the night before. My eyes are no bigger than small slits when I drop my pants and squat behind the bush.

  My bladder is only half empty when my eyes finally adjust, and the second they do everything inside me freezes. I stop peeing mid-stream, and my knees wobble. If I fall I’ll land in a puddle of my own urine, so I grab the house for support. My chest is tight and I can’t breathe, let alone focus enough to get my pants up. And I can’t rip my eyes away from the horror in front of me.

  The door swings open and Walker steps into the backyard. “Damn, it’s bright. We must have slept late.”

  I’m still squatting behind the bush when I meet his gaze. His smile melts away and he reaches for his knife as he scans the yard, not pulling it out but keeping his hand on it. When he doesn’t see anything, he heads my way.

  “Eva?” he says, keeping his voice low. “What’s wrong?”

  I nod toward the bush in front of me, and immediately my body begins to shake. Even though I don’t want to look at it again, my gaze is drawn to it. It only makes me tremble more.

  Walker pulls his knife. His jaw tightens, and with his free hand he yanks his hat down. Probably to block out the bright sun. I’m still trembling when he rounds the bush. His eyes land on the bodies, and he lets out a deep breath.

  Of course, they aren’t bodies anymore, just skeletons. They’re both tiny. I can’t even begin to guess how old they were. Five, six, seven? One skull is slightly larger than the other, and with the way they’re positioned, it looks like the bigger one was holding onto the other. Comforting a younger sibling while they hid, maybe. I’ll never know for sure, but that’s my guess.

  After a few seconds of silence, Walker’s shoulders drop and he shoves his knife back into its sheath. “Damn.”

  I swallow but still can’t move. “Yeah.”

  Walker pulls his hat off, then he looks my way and his face turns red. His eyes dart away. “Um…Eva. Maybe you should get dressed?”

  Shit.

  I stand, yanking my pants up as I go. I’m flustered that he saw me naked—yes, now he can claim to have seen me naked—but I can’t look away from the bodies. It’s too horrible, and I feel too awful about peeing here. Twice.

  Tears fill my eyes, but I wipe them away and head toward the house. I can’t look at those tiny skeletons anymore. Discarded bodies are common. More common than I’d like them to be, but there’s something so horrible about that scene that it makes me want to run and hide.

  Walker jogs after me. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I just—I want to get our stuff and get moving. It’s late. We slept too long.”

  My bladder isn’t empty, but I can’t think about it right now. I’ll go later. After we get away from that depressing grave behind the bush.

  Walker doesn’t respond, but he follows me inside. I grab my bag out of the bedroom and sling it over my shoulder, then toss him his. He stands in the doorway with a frown on his face like he sees something he doesn’t like. My fingers move over the notches on my arm as the urge to cut slams into me. I don’t know why, and since there isn’t a psychiatrist around to help me figure it out, there’s no point focusing on it. Right now, what I need to do is get the hell out of here.

  I count to ten, allowing the overwhelming desire to ease just a bit before saying, “Let’s go.”

  I try to move past Walker, but he doesn’t budge. He stares at my fingers running over the notches like they have a mind of their own. “You want to do it, don’t you?”

  I can actually feel the walls go up inside me. It’s like there are little men frantically throwing bricks on top of one another in an attempt to block out Walker’s gaze. His eyes are so blue and so full of concern that it makes me itch from the inside out.

  My finger moves over the scars faster.

  Walker takes a step closer. “Won’t you tell me what you’re thinking? I know that was rough out there, Eva, but it isn’t like you haven’t seen it before. Is this because of Lilly?”

  The walls get higher, and I know he can see it too. His shoulders tense, and his eyes sharpen and narrow like he’s trying to read my mind. Not if I have anything to say about it.

  I move my fingertips faster up my arm, over the most recent notches. The newest one stings, but it’s scabbed over. I pick at it. “It doesn’t have anything to do with that. I just want to go. We shouldn’t have gotten that comfortable. It was stupid and irresponsible, and I know better. I’ve never done that before. I’m always up before the sun. I got too comfortable. I can’t let it happen again.”

  I’m blabbering like a fool. What’s worse is that the words have more to do with what’s happening here. It isn’t about oversleeping or Lilly or those two little innocent children outside, and Walker knows it. He flinches and jerks his hat down lower on his head until I can’t see his eyes.

  “Yeah well, I’m sorry I got in the way.”

  He turns and heads for the living room before I can say anything, but I’m not even sure what I would say if he gave me the chance. I’m not wrong. We were stupid for fooling around the way we did. First in the woods without our clothes on, where we were totally defenseless. Then last night… If someone had walked into the bedroom, we wouldn’t have heard a thing. That’s not something we can afford. I’ve allowed his hope to infect me like a virus, and it’s made me weak. Stupid. I have to remember that hope can get you killed in this world.

  I hurry after Walker, but by the time I catch up, he’s already crossed the lawn and headed out to the road. His long stride makes me feel like I have to run to keep up.

  The hot sun beats down on us, and within minutes, my calves ache from trotting along after him. No matter how fast I move though, I can’t get to Walker’s side. He doesn’t want me there, and I can’t blame him. I hurt his feelings, but I was right and I’m not going to
apologize. I slow down and resign myself to walking a foot behind him. The silence is even worse than it was the day we left Hope without Tara.

  Once Walker realizes I’m not trying to walk next to him, he slows his pace. His shoulders don’t relax, though. The hurt rolls off him in waves. I’m not sure he’ll be able to forgive me this time.

  I dig at the last notch on my arm, picking away the scab a little at a time until it’s gone completely. Blood pools on the cut and drips down my wrist, but I can’t stop scratching at it. My nails are caked with dirt, and the blood only makes them look more disgusting, but I keep digging. Ignoring the throbbing pain that comes with it.

  At lunchtime, we only pause long enough to pee.

  We get moving again and Walker rips open a can of black olives. He won’t even look at me when he forces them into my hand, but at least he isn’t rushing ahead of me now. His pace is steady, but not too fast. His shoulders are a little more relaxed, too. I watch him out of the corner of my eye while I try to think of something to say. I don’t want him to be angry at me anymore. The silence that’s been following us for the past couple hours is too oppressive.

  I dig out a few olives and pop them in my mouth, then hold out the can. He reaches to take it but his hand grabs my arm instead, twisting it until he can see the cuts on my wrist. His blue eyes narrow as he studies the bloody mess, and then he looks up at me. It’s the first time he’s looked me in the eye since we left the house, but his icy expression makes me wish he’d go back to ignoring me.

  “What the hell, Eva?”

  I pull my wrist out of his grip and shove my arm behind my back. Like that will make him forget what he just saw. Right. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” He reaches for my arm, but I force the olives into his hand instead. He stares down at the can like he has no idea what to do with them. When he looks up, his blue eyes shimmer. “You promised.”

  “I didn’t make a new cut,” I say defensively.

  Walker holds his hand out, and I know he’s waiting for me to show him. To prove it. I don’t want to. Not because I’m lying, since I’m not, but because I don’t want to disappoint him.

  He doesn’t relent, so I finally give in. When he takes my arm, his mouth turns down. “Why did you do this?”

  There are rocks lodged in my throat, making it impossible to talk. I shrug.

  Walker shakes his head and puts the can of olives down. He takes out the water bottle and, before I can protest, pours some over the cut on my arm. Then he uses the hem of his shirt to wipe off the dried blood. The cut is jagged and ugly, and it aches when he rubs it. But his touch is gentle. He wipes the shirt over it like he’s cleaning a delicate glass figurine. Like he’s afraid he’ll hurt me. Then he looks up and his eyes are once again soft, making the walls surrounding my heart crack. When Walker looks at me with that expression on his face, I have a hard time convincing myself I don’t want him to care. That I don’t care about him.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  He sighs and picks the can up off the ground. Before he starts moving again, he slings his arm over my shoulder. “No, I’m sorry. I knew this was tough for you. That you’ve been hurt and trusting someone wasn’t easy. I shouldn’t have gotten my feelings hurt over something so small.”

  Walker’s arm slides off my shoulders after a few seconds. He pops a few olives into his mouth and chews slowly, taking his time as the temperature between us cools off. He’s closer to me now, and when his arm brushes mine, it helps soothe something in me. When our eyes meet, he smiles.

  After a couple minutes, Walker bumps his hip against mine and shoots me a grin. “I know you can’t resist me for real.”

  He offers me the can of olives, and I scoop a few out while I work at controlling my own smile. It doesn’t cooperate, but it still doesn’t feel natural. It’s getting easier, though. Like a little more of that mud caked on my face has broken off.

  “Well,” I say, fighting back a big smile, “I was pretty sure you were just angry because I turned you down for sex last night.”

  Walker snorts. “Please, I didn’t hear you say no. In fact, I’m pretty sure you gave me a rain check.”

  “You wish.” I let out a laugh as I give him a good shove.

  Walker stumbles a few steps, but when he comes back to walk at my side, he slings his arm around my shoulders again. He grins and leans down, and when his lips brush against my neck a shiver runs down my spine.

  “Yes, I do,” he whispers.

  My face gets hot and I look away, but I know I can’t hide the blush from him. It’s too bright. And I can tell he sees it by the look of triumph that flashes across his face.

  21

  It’s late afternoon when we come over a hill and spot a town in the distance. The second we see it Walker grabs my arm, pulling me to the side of the road. My heart is already pounding as I peer through the tangled branches, but it kicks up a few more notches when I catch sight of a man. Next to me, Walker’s whole body stiffens. A couple more men come into view, stopping in the middle of the street, and when a gust of wind blows down the road, it carries with it the sound of voices.

  The hair on the back of my neck stands up, but I’m not sure why. We’re too far away to get a good look at them and I can’t hear the voices clearly enough to know what they’re saying. Something about it feels off, though. Just like we instinctively knew Hope was a safe place, I instinctively know I do not want these men to find me.

  “This isn’t good,” I whisper.

  Walker pulls his hat off his head. The back of his neck is bright red, like a tomato ripe for the plucking. He runs his hand over his short hair, and beads of sweat fall to the ground. His Adam’s apple bobs.

  “I don’t know why,” he says, “but I agree with you.”

  “We can go through the field. Avoid the town that way.”

  We both look toward the mass of weeds at our backs. Just like every other acre of farmland we’ve come across, these are overrun. Most of the weeds are prickly, and tall enough that they won’t get only our legs. Our exposed arms will be just as scratched up.

  “We have maybe one more day of walking if we don’t backtrack, but we could, you know.” Walker turns to face me, his blue eyes holding mine. “We could go back and take another road. Go around the town.”

  I glance back and forth between the weed-choked field and the town in front of us. Both are bad, but backtracking makes my stomach uneasy. Like I’m allowing Lilly to slip away. I don’t want to do that.

  “I’d like to go through the field.” I give Walker an apologetic smile, knowing I’m asking him to allow his body to be scratched to pieces. “I’ll make it up to you.” I bat my eyes even though my stomach is still tense.

  He lets out a low chuckle, giving me an adorable half grin as he pulls his ratty hat back onto his head. “You better.”

  We slip into the field without another glance toward the town, keeping close to the ground so the weeds hide us from view. It only takes ten feet of hunched-over walking before I start to regret my decision. The thistles are sharp, and there are plenty of other thorny weeds I don’t recognize. They scratch against my arms and legs, and in front of me, Walker swears and pulls his arms into his shirt so he can protect them. Too bad I’m wearing a tank top. There’s nothing for me to do but allow the sharp points of the plants to poke at my body.

  Walker leads the way, but he’s constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure I’m still there. Every time he does, the wall around my heart falls a little bit more.

  When we get closer to the town, the voices get louder. My stomach twists into knots as I strain to listen while still moving forward. As far as I can tell, they’re all male. Not to mention loud and obnoxious. They yell back and forth like they own the world. Like being quiet doesn’t matter and they have nothing to fear.

  When we get even with the town, we sink lower until we’re practically crawling through the dirt. Walker has to take his arms out of his shirt, but it’
s better than being caught. The voices of the men echo through the silence, and every word they say makes my body tense up even more, but it isn’t until we reach the center that I pause long enough to take a look at them.

  Walker stops and glances back at me, jerking his head forward. Motioning for me to follow. I lift one finger to let him know it will only take a second. I don’t know why, but I feel like I need to look. Something about one of the voices makes every hair on my body stand up and my heart race. I have to know for sure.

  It’s hard to get a good look from where we are, so I crawl forward a little. Walker grabs my ankle, but I kick his hand off and keep going. All the way to the edge of the field, ignoring the tangled weeds that scratch at my arms and legs. Not worrying about the dirt that becomes more and more caked under my nails with each inch I cross.

  When I reach the edge, I lay on my stomach to watch. There are two men in my line of sight, but neither one looks familiar. They’re both filthy. Long hair and scraggly beards. One is round with a face that is swollen from too much drinking, and the other is thin. So thin he looks like he just got out of one of the prison camps even though it’s been a year. He opens his mouth and lets out a hacking cough that sends a shiver down my spine. He doesn’t sound like he has much time left.

  “We got any more of them cigarettes?” the thin man calls out.

  “We do, but we ain’t wasting ‘em on you,” someone I can’t see says.

  The voice turns my body to ice. I pull myself closer to the edge even though it fills me with dread. The thin man coughs and says something I can’t hear, then another man steps into my line of sight. I curl my fingers, digging them into the dirt while my body shakes. It’s Donnie. I knew it.

  “You’re on death’s door. We ain’t giving you nothing else. You hear?” Donnie smacks the thin man on the side of the head, then spits. “You can go out looking for your own food.”

  The thin man starts to argue just as Walker crawls up beside me. He tries to get my attention, but I can’t take my eyes off the scene in front of me. The thin man is dead, he just doesn’t know it yet, but Donnie is an ass. No, worse than that. He’s as much of a monster as the creepers.