by Kate L. Mary
When Kellan and I left our houses, we’d packed supplies, but I’d never thought to take pictures or grab anything from my room that would help me remember the past. We’d headed out hoping to find a safe place and had gotten so caught up in surviving that by the time Jasper found us, having a picture of my parents and Matt seemed useless. I’d seen horrible things. People getting ripped apart by zombies, humans hurting each other in unimaginable ways, blood and death and hate and rage. What good was a picture?
Then things settled down, and the idea of going back had hurt too much. Kellan and I had driven by our houses dozens of times, but we never got out of the car, because I ached from just thinking about seeing my house that way. What if my parents were still there? What if Matt was? I wasn’t sure if I would survive it.
Now, though, passing the pictures of smiling people who were long gone, I ached for what I’d lost. I thought I could remember what my parents looked like, thought I could picture Matt’s grin when he rolled his eyes at me, but what if I was wrong? What if the images in my head weren’t real, but instead something my mind had clung to? Bits and pieces of other people I’d known and loved patched together like some Frankenstein memory of my family.
“I was sure to take pictures from the home of every kid I found,” Bill said as we passed yet another cubicle with yet another montage of smiling faces. “These kids will never know their parents, but at least they know what they looked like.”
“That’s nice,” Harper whispered, her eyes once again moist.
“Most people wouldn’t have thought of that,” Kellan said, and I wondered if he, too, was regretting what we hadn’t done all those years ago.
“In my former life, I don’t know if I would have thought of it,” Bill replied thoughtfully, “but the virus changed me. Made me appreciate what I had. Before, I’d always been so focused on my career. I was a black man in a white man’s world.” He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s true, but it’s still strange to think what a big role race used to play in this world. Now it’s people and zombies. That’s it.” He shook his head again like he still couldn’t believe it. “Back then I was very career oriented. There weren’t a lot of black pilots in the Air Force, and I was determined to stand out. To be better than the best. I neglected my family more than I should have, and Jessica and I were on the verge of calling it quits. Then the virus came, and it put everything into perspective.” We reached the back of the plane, and he stopped walking, turning to face us. “Now I’m determined to be the best human being possible. That’s it. That’s all I can hope to be in this world, and I’ve come to realize it’s so much bigger than all my former goals combined.”
This man awed me with his selflessness. Since the world collapsed and started over, I’d met all kinds of people. Assholes, opportunists, and people who were good but still had no problem getting their hands dirty if it meant surviving. But I’d never met anyone like Bill. He was like the Mother Teresa of the apocalypse.
He waved to a cubicle in front of him, and then to one at his back. “I have two recently vacated rooms, as well as a couple bunks up in the cockpit. You’re welcome to any of those beds. Get something to eat and some rest.” He looked me over and smiled. “Although, you might want to get cleaned up first. We have a shower set up in the far corner of the hangar, and thanks to all the rain, we’re doing good on water. I’m sure we can scrounge up some replacement clothes if you need them, too.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“We can pay you back,” Kellan told Bill. “After we get back to our shelter.”
“It’s no problem.” The way Bill shook his head told me he was being sincere. “We help out where we can, especially when we come across good people. They’re rare these days, but I can usually tell pretty fast if a person is worth my time.” He grinned at Kellan. “I knew you were the second I pulled up, because you put yourself in front of Regan. That may seem like a small thing, but it isn’t. Trust me.”
“Thank you,” Kellan said, and the haggard way his voice came out told me that Bill’s words had affected him.
I couldn’t blame him. They’d affected me, too.
9
After we left the plane, Bill showed us where we could get cleaned up. They’d partitioned off the back corner of the hangar with more cubicle dividers so it was separate from everything else, using a curtain for a makeshift door. It made finding a little privacy easier, and even though the quiet whisper of voices was still audible, they seemed far away. There was soap—some of which I’d actually made and traded in the market at Altus—as well as towels. They were thin and worn but would do the trick, and I even had some clothes donated by the other people in the hangar. Bill’s daughter, Christine, was only a little taller than I was and almost as thin, so it worked out.
The shower stall was at the back of the partitioned off area and consisted of a square of curtains secured to the walls and a showerhead that was somehow rigged to distribute rainwater. I wasn’t at all sure how it worked, and the water wouldn’t be warm, but I was thankful for it anyway.
Since I was the only one of my group who’d been foolish enough to lie down in the middle of the street, allowing myself to get covered in mud, my friends were nice enough to let me to go first. Thankfully, because the mud that had been annoying at first was now infuriating. It had dried and was starting to flake, and it made my skin itch. Not to mention the fact that every time I moved it cracked and a little more dropped to the ground so I looked like I was falling apart.
I was buck naked, all ready to turn on the shower so I could scrub myself down, when the thin plastic curtain surrounding me rustled, and Kellan ducked inside.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
He grinned, his eyes moving over me before he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it over the curtains. “This will save water.”
I rolled my eyes at the absurdity of the statement. “No, it will stretch the shower out and make it twice as long.”
“No, it will make it easier. How else are you going to wash your back?” Not the least bit deterred by my protests, he undid his pants and shoved them down, his eyes focused on me as he tossed them outside the curtain. “Plus, I need to check you thoroughly for ticks.”
“Ticks?” I asked, lifting my eyebrows at him doubtfully.
“Yes. We just hiked for hours, and Oklahoma is riddled with ticks. I need to make sure you don’t have any on you.” Kellan’s grin widened. “Turn the water on.”
“Are you sure this is okay? We’re guests here.”
“I’m sure.” Kellan was grinning when he reached past me to turn on the water, kissing my nose. “Plus, I asked Bill. He agreed that we can never be too careful when it comes to ticks.”
When the water hit my head, I almost let out a squeal. It wasn’t freezing because of the hot sun, but it also wasn’t as warm as I was used to. Plus, it wasn’t like a normal shower. The water pressure was shit, making it feel less like a shower and more like someone was drizzling water over us.
After less than a minute of standing under the stream and trying to get the mud out of my hair, I realized having Kellan with me was actually beneficial. If all I had to do was rinse away a little dirt and sweat it wouldn’t have mattered, but the dirt on my body turned to mud the second it got wet, making it harder to scrub away.
Letting out an exasperated sigh that told Kellan I wasn’t happy about having to depend on him, I shoved the bar of soap against his chest and turned my back. “You’re going to have to help.”
From over my shoulder, I saw his grin. “Can I start on the front?”
“No.” I shot him a look that should have scorched his skin but instead only made his smile widen. “Get the mud off so we don’t waste their water.”
I turned back around.
To his credit, Kellan did a good job, only trying to cop a feel once or twice, which I, of course, allowed. I was only human, after all. With him in the shower, I was clean in half the time, which I
grudgingly admitted when Kellan pointed it out with a superior smile.
“Since we got done so fast,” he murmured, grabbing my hips so he could pull me closer.
This time I didn’t object when his mouth covered mine, didn’t try to stop him when my back hit the cold metal of the hangar wall or bat his hands away when they moved up my body. Not even when he lifted my leg and slid inside me did I protest, because by that point, I wanted him as much as he wanted me.
“It’s going to be fast,” he said, his mouth pressed against my ear.
I nodded in response, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip in hopes of stifling any noises, but finding it almost impossible when he started moving.
Sex was still new to me, still awing in how it made my body hum. The trembling in my legs, the tingling in my stomach, and the way my toes would curl as my body quaked from the inside out. Every time Kellan touched or kissed me, I had a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that it was him. That all the things I’d been dreaming about for the past year had finally come true. That somehow in the midst of all this horror, I’d found something amazing.
Kellan was right when he’d said it would be fast. It was over in minutes and ended with him grunting against my neck while I sank my teeth deeper into my lip to stop from crying out. My body hummed—it was the only way to explain it—and for a few seconds we stayed where we were, my back pressed against the wall while Kellan held me up, trying to catch his breath.
When he finally stepped back, he pulled me under the water so I could rinse off again. He was grinning like he’d won a prize, and even though I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed, heat crept up my cheeks from the expression.
Once we’d dried off and gotten dressed, we joined Bill and a handful of his people in the area designated for eating. The kids who’d been sitting at the table when we first arrived had moved on, and the occasional sound of laughter or a childish voice calling out to someone echoed off the metal walls. It was pleasant, but still unnerving after the quiet of our shelter. Years had passed since anything that remotely resembled rowdiness had graced those walls, and while I’d missed it, the unexpected noise still made me jump from time to time.
There was stew for dinner. Some kind of meat—what it was, I didn’t bother asking—floated in a thin broth next to potatoes, carrots, and even celery. Where they’d gotten these delicacies, I didn’t know. Traded for them, maybe? Or it was even possible they had a garden somewhere, although I couldn’t imagine how difficult getting vegetables to grow would have been during all those years of drought. We had fresh food from our hydrogarden, but I’d only seen the occasional veggies or fruits at the market, and they’d usually been brought in from other areas. Like upstate Oklahoma where it was greener and the drought hadn’t hit as hard, or even from a high-jacked truck carrying supplies from one sanctioned settlement to another.
That was the only way we were able to get gas in this part of the country. By stealing it. All the gasoline from before had gone bad—gas had an expiration date—but the new government had restarted oil production years ago. But they weren’t very good about sharing it with the likes of unsanctioned areas, which was what we were.
Bill joined us at the table, as well as Diane, which I was grateful for, wanting to put in a good word in for Blake. Except that every time I mentioned his name, Kellan shot me a look and a grin, making me blush and roll my eyes. He knew me too well.
“So, you only have two more people back at your shelter?” Bill asked.
Kellan’s head bobbed as he finished chewing the big hunk of meat he’d just popped into his mouth, and when he’d swallowed, he said, “Yeah. Our group used to be bigger, but we lost people a few years back after taking in someone new. That act of goodwill ended in the death of most of our people.”
Diane froze with a spoon poised in front of her lips. “Someone killed them?”
“Slit their throats in their sleep,” I murmured, remembering.
I’d woken that night to the sound of Kellan shouting. How I’d heard him from across the hall in my own condo was a damn mystery, but I had. I’d rushed to his place to find him in his room, covered in blood and standing over the dead woman. It was strange. She was such a huge part of our lives even though she was only with us for half a day, but I could never remember her name. Laurie, maybe? Yeah, that sounded right.
She’d been a bull of a woman. Her face had been pockmarked from childhood acne, and she’d had a scowl that could have withered a rosebush. At the time, we’d attributed her hard personality to what she’d been through—the apocalypse could turn the most emotional person hard. She’d also smoked like a chimney, something we’d strictly forbidden in our shelter. That was the only time she’d shown a flash of darkness, and thinking back on how her blue eyes had sizzled with anger, I realized we should have been more on alert. But the anger had been short-lived, and she’d agreed to only smoke outside, so we’d let the moment pass.
Unfortunately.
We were fools, naïve considering everything that had happened, and it had cost the lives of thirteen of our people. Family. That was what they’d been. A family we’d built out of the ruins of the old world, and they’d died suddenly and horribly, and the shock of it all still hadn’t worn off.
After a moment of silence, Kellan cleared his throat. “We’ve kept to ourselves since then, except for Harper.” He nodded to the teen sitting across from him, and she lowered her head.
“Can’t say I blame you,” Bill replied with a frown.
“This group of men,” Kellan continued, “isn’t like anything else we’ve come up against over the years, though. They’re ruthless, and as much as we need your help, I want to be sure you know the risks.”
Bill was nodding, his lips pressed together as he thought it through. “I understand, and believe me when I say I don’t relish the idea of putting my people in danger. Losing someone after all these years would be…” He exhaled. “Well, I can’t even put into words what it would be.”
“I understand,” Kellan said.
“But I also don’t feel right about not helping when we have the help to give, because I can tell you’re good people, and that’s something we need to protect. It’s our greatest resource. Without it, there would be no point in allowing the human race to go on. Let the zombies win, I say. If there’s no goodness, no humanity left in the world, we deserve to follow the dinosaurs into extinction.”
Kellan was nodding, but he said nothing.
For my own part, I was reeling from the impact of Bill’s words. It made me feel worse about how we’d behaved since Laurie killed our family, because Bill was right. We needed to do everything we could to ensure the good people left in this world not only survived but flourished as well. Without them, there would be nothing but more Lauries and Andrews, and then where would we be? Surrounded by a darkness so intense and bright it would take over the world.
“Okay, then,” Kellan said.
“What’s the plan?” Diane asked.
So, she wasn’t just pretty, but brave as well. Good. Blake would need someone strong. He and Emma hadn’t been right for each other, but there was no way he’d be happy with a weak woman after seven years with Emma.
“We need numbers more than anything,” Kellan said. “Andrew has maybe six men, but he has zombies, too, and we have to make sure we’re prepared to defend and conquer.”
“We can do that,” Bill said. “We’ve made sure everyone knows how to defend themselves from a young age. Can’t take risks in this world, and if one of my people gets separated from the group somehow, I want to know they’re okay.”
“Good.” Kellan was nodding.
“Smart,” I chimed in, thinking about Harper and chastising myself for not doing the same thing with her. After everything settled down, we needed to make sure she could shoot a gun and actually hit something.
“I’ll ask around and see who wants to go,” Bill said, hauling himself to his feet. “We can head out after br
eakfast.”
“Thank you.” Kellan stood, too, and extended his hand.
Bill clasped it between both of his and smiled. “No need to thank me. Just know that if I ever need help, you’ll be the one I come to.”
“Deal,” Kellan responded.
It was late by the time Bill and Kellan worked out all the details, and when we dragged ourselves into the C-17 to claim a bed, I was more than thrilled at the thought of getting some rest. Cade climbed the ladder into the cockpit to the bunks while Kellan and I took one of the open cubicles. Harper took the second one.
I kept my clothes on, removing only my boots before sliding onto the cot. It was narrow and not soft, not to mention the fact that the air inside the plane was hot and stuffy, but with as tired as I was, I didn’t think falling asleep would be a problem.
Kellan slid onto the small bed at my side, and I cuddled up to him despite my already sticky skin. The soft stubble on his face brushed my neck as he ran his lips up and over my chin to my mouth. The kiss was deep, his tongue sliding over mine as his hands moved up my sides.
“I can’t wait until this is over,” I whispered. “I’m tired of being scared.”
“Tomorrow,” he said against my lips. “Tomorrow, Andrew will be dead, and we’ll be in our own bed.”
His hand covered my breast while his mouth moved over mine, cutting off my response. Not that I cared. All I cared about was making sure we kept our people safe, but right now there was nothing I could do, and the wait was gnawing at me. This, though, Kellan’s lips on mine, was a good distraction.
