When We Were Human

by Kate L. Mary

  He presses his lips against my ear and whispers, “I haven’t forgotten about the rain check you gave me.”

  A shiver runs through my body at his nearness, but I choose not to respond. Mainly because Lilly is watching us closely, but also because I’m not sure what to say. Without my clothes on and with Walker being so near to me, the memory of kissing him by the pond is stronger than ever. He may be the one who brought up the whole subject of sex, but that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it. Just like Walker, I had kind of accepted that I was going to die a virgin. Now, though, things seem different. Like a rainbow appearing after a particularly long storm.

  I lay my clothes out next to Lilly’s, being careful to keep the blanket close to my body in the process, then join the others on the floor a safe distance from the fire. The sound of the rain pounding on the rooftop and through the windows in the other room echoes through the house, but I can still hear the crackling of the fire over it.

  Lilly and I sit side by side, and Ben stretches out on a couch that looks like it has ten layers of red dirt on it. Walker scoots up next to me. Not close enough that it makes me uncomfortable, but close enough that I can feel his body heat. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking.

  We talk quietly as we pass cans of food back and forth. Pears and Spam, plus a can of chili that Ben declines, which is okay with me. It just means I get to eat more. The chili is the kind my dad used to pile on top of his hot dogs, which I never liked when I was a kid, but I gave up thinking of food as anything more than nourishment years ago. Now, I don’t care what I’m offered as long as it’s edible and will keep my stomach from growling all night long.

  We finish eating, then settle in as the room grows darker and the storm rages on outside. Lilly lays down, curling up into a ball on top of her blanket, and Ben takes the third one, leaving Walker with nothing. Not that he seems to care.

  I’m tired but not ready to give in quite yet. There are a few things I want to discuss with Walker. Things I don’t want the others to hear.

  Lilly’s breathing gets heavier, and only a few seconds later, the quiet hum of Ben’s snoring fills the room. We haven’t been with the kid for long, but it’s been long enough for me to know that when he makes that sound, he could sleep through another invasion. He’s the heaviest sleeper I’ve ever seen.

  “You had something on your mind?” Walker says quietly.

  I let out an exasperated sigh. “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Know what I’m thinking.”

  He chuckles quietly, then scoots closer. “Let’s just say you’d be a very bad poker player. You wear your emotions and thoughts on your face.”

  “I do?” It’s news to me, and for some reason it makes me nervous. If that’s true and I get in a sticky situation, I’ll have a hard time hiding my fear.

  “At least to me you do,” he says, almost like he can sense my fear. Which to me means he’s just doing it again.

  “We need to avoid that town,” I say, knowing I don’t have to elaborate. I don’t want Lilly within five miles of Donnie or any man that would take up with him.

  “I know.” Walker sighs and glances toward Lilly. “It will be a long way around, but I’m also not exactly sure how close we are to it.”

  “Then we get on a different road as soon as we leave here. Just to be on the safe side.”

  “Agreed.”

  I’m glad to know Walker and I are on the same page. Not that I thought he would argue. After what happened to Tara, I know he’ll be as cautious as he can. I just want to have it all out in the open.

  “We have Ben now,” I say after a few seconds of silence.

  “We do.”

  “That three-bedroom house might be a bit crowded, and I don’t think he’d want to move in with someone else. He needs stability, Walker.”

  “We’ll give it to him.”

  I smile at his tone. He reminds me of my dad for some reason. Authoritative. Firm. And the expression on his face is the same. He wants to protect Ben.

  Of course, that doesn’t help the three-bedroom situation. “So what do you propose? As far as sleeping arrangements go, that is.”

  He grins but keeps his eyes on the fire. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share a bed?”

  I snort, and his smile grows wider.

  “That’s what I thought.” He takes a deep breath, then blows it out slowly. “We find another bed. Hell, I’ll sleep on the couch if I have to. We stay together, one way or another.”

  “Okay,” I whisper, but all I can think about is what a great guy Walker is.

  He’s loyal and selfless. Caring. I didn’t think anyone like Walker was left at all, and now we’re headed back to a town full of people who are working together. Looking out for each other. It’s like a dream I never dared let myself have.

  I jerk awake when a loud boom shakes the house. The rain is pounding on the roof just as hard as it did when I fell asleep, and the room is pitch black. It takes me a few seconds to reorient myself and remember where we are, and the second I do, I have the urge to pull Lilly close to me. She’s out cold though, and I don’t want to bug her. We have a long couple days of walking ahead of us, and she’s going to need the rest.

  The rhythmic hum of Ben’s snoring is barely audible over the rain. A foot or so away from me, Walker lies on his back, his arms folded over his chest and his mouth wide open. The fire has died down, and with the way he’s hugging himself, I can’t help wondering if he’s cold. Even if it is muggy in the house.

  I unwrap my body from the blanket and scoot closer to Walker. Then I drape half of it over him and settle in. He groans in his sleep and rolls toward me but doesn’t wake up. I close my eyes and focus on slowing my breathing.

  The next time I wake, we’re still like that. Walker out cold with the blanket over him. I’m so close to him that my skin is moist with sweat. The room isn’t as dark but the rain is still coming down. It’s hard to tell what time it is thanks to the lack of sunshine. It has to be close to morning, though, because my bladder is on the verge of bursting.

  I scoot out from under the blanket and grab my shirt, not bothering with shorts. They’ll just get in the way. The door creaks when I start to push it open, and I take my time, trying to be as quiet as possible so I don’t wake the others. We won’t be able to head out for a while, not with the torrential downpour going on outside, so they may as well get some sleep.

  When I step out of the room, the rest of the house looks like a small lake. So much water has poured in through the broken windows that I’m worried that if the rain continues much longer, the place will flood and the water will seep into our room. It’s so deep in the kitchen that it covers my feet. I slosh through it, heading to the back door, and once I’m outside I move to the end of the porch. There isn’t really a great place to do my business, but there’s no way I’m going out into the rain so I can squat behind a bush. It’s like a monsoon out there.

  The porch wraps around the whole house, and I follow it until I get lucky and find a plastic bucket sitting in the corner. Inside there’s a couple inches of water with leaves floating in it. The water sloshes around when I pick the bucket up, and I catch a whiff of stagnant water and decaying plants—and who knows what else. I hold my breath and dump the thing out before getting down to business.

  When I’m done, I dump the bucket yet again before putting it back where I found it. The guys can just pee off the porch, but Lilly and I can’t. The bucket is going to come in handy. Who knows how long this storm is going to keep us trapped here.

  The wind blows, pelting me with raindrops and making me shiver despite the humid air. I cross my arms and hurry toward the back door, keeping my head down and out of the rain. When I round the corner, the creeper standing on the porch is so unexpected that I actually jump back almost a foot. A scream tries to rip its way out of me, but I slam my hand over my mouth to keep it in. My hands are trembling.

  The creeper
is standing just outside the door with his hand on the knob, almost like he was about to go in. Water runs down his body and collects in a puddle on the porch. He must have come up here to get out of the rain just like we did.

  I hate when they do something so…human.

  The creeper rears back in surprise and lets out a wail, and on instinct, my hand goes to my back pocket. Only I’m not wearing my shorts, which means I don’t have a knife. He screams again, and the hair on my arms stands up. I don’t know why, but I get the feeling he’s calling for help. All I can think about is lying in the cotton field, watching that group of creepers march by. Jed said they’ve started to band together… I can’t give the creeper a chance to call his friends, if he has any.

  I bolt toward him, and his black eyes grow wide in surprise. He reaches out just as I propel myself forward. My body slams into his and we both go flying, and when his back crashes onto the porch, a board splinters under us. I land on top of him. My legs straddling his torso as he slithers under me, trying to break free. Before he can strike, my right fist pounds against his face. My left fist follows, then my right again. He continues to wail, and every sound he lets out makes my heart pound harder. Faster. I search the area, but I don’t see anything coming to help the creeper. He has to be alone.

  The creature under me wriggles to get free, but I don’t let him. I wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze as his eyes grow so big they look like they’re going to pop out of his head. He bucks under me, but I just squeeze harder. His neck is thin enough that I’m sure I can snap it if I just work hard enough.

  Suddenly, something grabs me from behind, pulling me off the creeper. For a few brief seconds, I’m flying through the air, and then my body slams against the side of the house. When I hit the porch, a cracking sound vibrates through my head, but I’m not sure if it’s me or the porch or something else. Every inch of me hurts, so I very well could have broken something.

  I roll onto my side and look up just as a second creeper leans over me. His lipless mouth opens, and he bares his pointy teeth. I try to scoot away, but there’s nowhere to go. I’m backed up against the house. The monster grabs me and pulls me up, his slimy fingers wrapping around my throat. My feet flail under me and I try to find my footing, but they only hit air. I pull at the creeper’s arms, trying to get free as my windpipe constricts. A burning sensation moves down my throat to my lungs. It feels like I swallowed a ball of fire.

  Behind me, another creeper makes a noise, and the one choking me lets go. I drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes, gasping for breath as I roll to my stomach and try to get away. Movement catches my eye, and I realize there are more of them. With the panic clouding my brain it’s hard to tell how many, but at least three more stand next to the one I tried to kill. With the one behind me, that’s five. I can’t take five. Even if I had my knife.

  Fingers wrap around my ankle, and I’m pulled back. I grab at the porch, trying to find something to hold on to, but there’s nothing to grip. Seconds later it doesn’t matter, because I’m in the air again, this time flying out into the rain. The muddy ground cushions my fall, but it isn’t totally painless. My right shoulder throbs, and trying to move my arm sends bolts of white-hot lightning through my body. The edges of my vision get dark, and my stomach convulses as intense pain shoots across my shoulder. I’ve never felt anything like it.

  I barely see the creeper when he stops in front of me. My eyes roll back, and he’s only visible at the bottom of my vision. I blink and try to focus, but I can’t make my eyes cooperate and my brain is just as disobedient. It won’t focus on anything but the throbbing ache in my shoulder.

  The thing leans down, getting right in my face as the rain pours over me. It feels like I’m being waterboarded, and every time I gasp for breath, I swallow even more water. The slimy face in front of me fades, and I blink again. But I can’t focus. Can’t breathe. Can’t…

  “Eva!”

  Lilly’s terrified voice slices through the darkness closing in on me, and I force my eyes to open. They’re immediately clouded with water, but I can still find my sister’s blonde hair in the mugginess. She leans closer, blocking the rain, and I’m able to focus a little more. But not much. I try to move, and pain slices me in half. My eyes roll back.

  Hands grip my shoulders, and agony explodes in my body. A scream rips its way out of me.

  “Eva?” Lilly is sobbing. She looks over her shoulder, but I don’t know what’s happening. “Walker! She’s hurt. I don’t know where, but she’s hurt!”

  Lilly runs her hands down my arms and I cry out again, which only makes her sob harder. My lips move as I try to force out words, but nothing happens. My throat is raw from the creeper trying to choke the life out of me.

  Walker kneels next to Lilly, and his blue eyes move over me. “Is she bleeding?”

  “No! I don’t see anything!”

  “Wait.” He reaches out, and I cringe, waiting for him to touch my shoulder the way Lilly did, but his hands stop halfway to my body. “Her shoulder. I think it’s dislocated. We need to get her inside.”

  I shake my head, but it only sends more pain through my body. “No,” I manage to get out. Just thinking about them carrying me inside makes me want to scream. Plus I don’t know if we’re still in danger. “Where are they?”

  “Gone,” Walker says, then leans down. “We need to get you inside.”

  He lifts my now useless arm, and it lays across my stomach. Tears spill from my eyes, mixing with the rain running over me. When Walker slides his arms under my body and lifts, pain shoots through me, and I have to bite down on my lip to stop from crying. Then he stands and starts to walk, and the agony gets ten times worse. I feel my consciousness start to drift away but force myself to stay present. Not to pass out.

  “Hang on, you’re going to be okay,” Walker says as he hurries toward the house.

  Lilly is just in my line of vision, but the creepers seem to be gone. I don’t know what scared them off, but if I ever see one again, I’ll rip him to shreds.

  Ben is standing in the doorway when Walker rushes in, but he moves out of the way. Even in my slightly dazed state, his unemotional reaction stands out. There’s a part of me that envies him, though.

  Walker lays me on a blanket that’s spread out on the floor. The throb in my shoulder is constant and blinding, and the edges of my vision never really clear. I wish I would pass out, that way I wouldn’t have to feel all this, but Lilly is here, keeping me conscious with her constant sobbing.

  “We need to relocate it,” Walker says, leaning over me. The expression on his face makes me want to cry. “This is going to hurt. I’m sorry.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and bite down on my lip as Walker stretches out my arm. His fingers tighten around my wrist, and I suck in a deep breath. Then he starts to pull. The movement is agonizing, but I feel the muscles in my shoulder start to stretch. Walker doesn’t let up. Not when tears fall down my cheeks or when I cry out. Then all at once, my shoulder pops back into its socket, and I let out a scream. It’s the most painful relief I’ve ever felt.

  27

  Walker releases my wrist and sits back, letting out a big sigh. “Shit, Eva. Are you okay?”

  I open my eyes, but don’t move to wipe the tears from my cheeks. The fiery pain in my shoulder has been replaced by a sore throbbing.

  Lilly is still crying, but I can tell she’s trying to hold it in. She wipes the tears off her face and takes my good hand, holding it tightly like she’s afraid to let it go. Ben still stands on the other side of the room, watching us silently. I don’t think he knows what to do with himself.

  “I’m okay.” I inhale slowly as I fight against the unrelenting ache.

  Walker swallows and runs his hand down his face. “What the hell happened? I woke up to you screaming, then ran outside to find invaders everywhere. Why were you out there?”

  “I had to pee,” I whisper, trying to sort through the foggy memories of what just happene
d. It doesn’t seem real. “When I came back around the side of the house, one was just standing there. He called for his friends, so I attacked him before he could alert more of them. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  Walker’s eyes flash and his jaw tenses, and I brace myself for the anger I know is coming. “So you didn’t learn anything from the last time you tried to skin one of them?” he spits at me.

  Lilly sits up straight, and her eyes get huge. “Skin them? What do you mean?”

  “Didn’t she tell you? Your sister seems to think she’s some kind of warrior princess of the invasion. The first time I saw her she was covered in their blood, holding the skin of an invader she had just killed.”

  Lilly’s eyes turn my way, moving over my body. She’s looking at me like I’m a stranger, and I have a hard time swallowing down the pain and hurt and betrayal Walker’s words bring out. He’s such a hypocrite. Just a few days ago he was kissing me, telling me how hot it was to see me like that, and now he’s treating me like I’m a psychopath. If my shoulder wasn’t throbbing, I’d punch him in the face.

  “I didn’t try to skin him,” I mutter. “I was just trying to stop him from hurting everyone. There was something about the way he acted that made me think he was a threat. I thought if I attacked first, he wouldn’t be able to do any damage.”

  “That worked well.” Walker gets up and tilts his head to one side, then the other. His neck cracks, and his blue eyes hold mine for a few seconds. Then he pulls his hat down low and turns away.

  “You skinned an invader?” Lilly whispers.

  I turn to face her, then nod slowly. “I did.”

  Her fingers run down my arm, over the notches, stopping at the most recent one. The one I made last. The one I picked at until it bled. The one I want to rip open right now.

  “And you did this to yourself.”

  It isn’t a question, but I answer it anyway. “Yes.”