by Mark Clodi
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. What does that mean?”
“Hell if I know. We passed my medical ability when I got bit by the dog.”
“So you remember that. Do you know what the date is?”
Stewart tilted her head sideways and asked, “Do you? C'mon ask me an easy one.”
Max shook his head, “Yeah I can't say what the date is for sure anymore either, I think it is maybe the fourth? Has it been only six days?”
“Could be.” Stewart leaned closer to Max, looking in his eyes. Max didn't back off from her, wondering if something was wrong with him, maybe he took a blow to the head that he didn't remember and she was examining the wound. Her kiss took him by surprise and rocked him back onto his buttocks.
“Wha-what are you doing?” he sputtered.
“Damn, not the reaction I was going for. Is it the eyes? I mean I can't see them but bloody eyes would be kind of a turn off.”
“No, no! It isn't that, it's just, well. I don't know…”
Upstairs they heard people climbing up the porch steps and Amelia's voice admonishing the kids to go to the tire swing and not inside the house.
“Forget about it Max. C'mon, help me up so I can go get cleaned up in the bathroom before I gross the kids out too.”
Woodenly Max complied, getting to his feet then helping Stewart into the bathroom. Jessica came into the house screaming “Daddy! Oh God! Daddy where are you?”
“Down in the basement Jessica! Down here!” His daughter ran down the stairs and threw herself on Max's back just as he closed the door to the bathroom. Behind her Amelia was on the stairs one hand held to her mouth.
“I tried to keep them outside.”
Max cut her off as he turned around, pulling his sobbing daughter into his arms, “It is okay Amelia, really. No problem.”
“But the dead…”
“They've seen just as bad the last few days, I would rather not have had them see more, but it isn't your fault. Did the boys come in too?”
“No, Tom told Kenny and Seth to go to the tire swing and they went. As far as I know Cory is still in the car and Nick is upstairs on the porch.”
“Dad?” Nick called down the stairs.
“Yeah buddy?”
“You okay?”
“Sure, you can come down if you want to. Amelia could you go check on Stewart? She got hit pretty hard.”
“Is it bad?” Amelia asked.
“Not terrible, just a little gross.”
"Okay I will check on her and then come back and get you cleaned up too, you are bleeding all over you know."
“Dad!” Nick yelled as he ran across the room to hug his father.
Amelia ducked into the bathroom where Max heard her whispering to Stewart. He took his kids over to the couch and sat them down, Jessica stayed on his lap, arms around his neck and Nick burrowed into him from one side.
“Whoa, whoa, what is all this? I am fine.”
"You're bleeding everywhere!" sobbed his daughter.
She buried her head in his neck and cried. Nick looked at him helplessly and shrugged his shoulders, “We were just worried. We don't want anything to happen to you. I was afraid, we never went away from you since we left home.”
Sitting there with his kids next to him Max pondered for a moment before replying, “I know and don't think that I would risk anything to put you two in danger. Sometimes we have to do things that might be a little dangerous. This wasn't any worse than at the hotel, or when Stewart and Tom went into the hardware store. I had to take a little risk to make sure something bad didn't happen later.”
His daughter pulled back from him, eyes red and wet from crying, snot dribbling out of her nose, she pointed one finger at him accusingly, “You could have made Tom stay instead! You didn't have to stay! Why didn't you make Tom stay!”
“Jessica.” he admonished moving her off of his lap onto the couch next to her brother. Max slid off of the couch onto his knees in front of them, he kept one of each of their hands in his and continued, “You know that would not be right. I know Tom would have done it. Just like I know Amelia would have stayed with Stewart. But it is like this…let's say we have chores to do, like doing the dishes. What if I made you do the dishes every day, all the time and let Nick just play instead of doing his share, would you be happy?”
Jessica shook her little head from side to side, “But this isn't the dishes.”
“No, it is worse, it is a bigger chore and if I don't do my share then that isn't fair. If I don't do my part other people might get grumpy. If you had to do the dishes every day and Nick played you would be complaining to me in three days.”
She shook her head, “I like doing the dishes, I will do the dishes for everyone every day if you don't have to go away from me again.”
Max looked at Nick for help. Unfortunately, at only ten years old, he didn't have much to offer. “It wouldn't be fair for dad not to go once in awhile, everyone has to take their turn. Like at the hotel when we stayed up with the adults, I was doing my share. It is important Jess.”
Jessica still wasn't buying into their logic and Max was saved by the bathroom door opening.
“I can't believe we still have power.” Amelia said as she came into the room. Stewart trailed behind her, a wash rag held to her forehead. “We are going to get some ice for that bump on her head and then rig some sort of head band there so her hands are still free. She can keep an eye on the kids while the rest of us clean up the house.”
Max nodded then turned back to his kids, “See? We all have to do our part. I have to go clean up the kitchen and you have to go outside and play on the tire swing, okay?”
Jessica nodded reluctantly, then whispered, “Daddy, there was a baby up there. It was dead.”
“I know honey, I know. You just keep your eyes closed until I get you outside, I will give you a piggy back ride okay?” Max knew all the parenting books Sarah had given him to read might have come in handy now, he didn't really know how to comfort his daughter in this situation. Hell, Max thought ruefully, if any of the parenting books had included a chapter on 'zombie apocalypse', I probably would have read them to begin with. Instead of offering her some fatherly advice or lying and telling her 'everything would be okay' he just held her tight and trudged up the stairs.
The kids were told firmly to stay outside while Tom, Amelia, and Max cleaned up the mess he had made in the kitchen. The first part of cleaning up involved Amelia bandaging up Max's cuts so he would stop dribbling blood everywhere. Stewart was given a cold cola and sat down in a rocking chair overlooking the swing. The picture would have been serene if not for the pistol belted to her hip and the shotgun she was using to gently rock the chair back and forth.
“This really kind of sucks.” Tom said, while mopping the floor a third time. Amelia had loaded the dishwasher with all of the contaminated plates and pan that had been on the counter and was now washing the rest of the utensils and surface areas with a bleach solution.
“I know Tom, I am sorry. It wasn't a good idea. We should have ambushed them in the next house and just come back here.”
“No, no it isn't that, I didn't think of that either, it is just that I don't know how long we can stay here. What if we have to do this every day? Or twice a day? How long before we have a line of zombies at the door banging to get in? Then we are back at MAC Co. under siege.”
“Maybe it won't be that way.” said Max thinking back to the days early on when they had been stuck in the office surrounded by the undead.
“Well this time, don't leave me if you bail out!” Amelia said with some humor in her voice.
“Never, we are in this until the end, together forever right?” Max said.
“Maybe.” Amelia said.
“Just maybe?”
“Max if it comes down to leaving me again to save the kids, then you leave me to save the kids.” She turned from the stove and looked at him, “I guarantee if I have to leave you to die to save t
hem I will.”
“Oh this turned serious all of a sudden. I agree though.”
“That goes for me too. But we better not separate on a whim. It better count for something. How long do you think we can stay here Max?”
“Until the zombies come. Then we pack up and go.”
“Anything close by now?” Amelia asked.
Max concentrated, he had been casting out for any wandering zombies periodically while they cleaned up the kitchen. Stewart was on watch from the porch, but she was having some cloudy vision, so Max was keeping an eye on things as well. “Nothing I can sense, nothing close or headed this way.” He didn't add that he could sense to the edge of North Platte now, a good three miles away. Before his little dust up this afternoon his range had been much more limited.
“Something wrong Max?” Amelia asked.
“No. Well sort of. You take for granted I am not insane and can sense the dead, that is a leap of faith I think.”
“If you hadn't proved it to me, I wouldn't believe you.” she replied.
“Well, okay, I guess, but now it is like I can 'see' farther. Since the fight I mean.”
“Why?” asked Tom.
“That is what I am wondering.”
“It is the zombies, you know they can do things we can't, the fast ones like Nancy and that guy Jimbo from your house. They moved so fast! I've only seen Stewart move that quick before.”
“I think I get it from them.” Max confessed, waiting for the two to disagree.
Instead Amelia just nodded and Tom looked thoughtful. “Could be.” he said, “I thought maybe Stewart was just that fast because, you know, she is a cop.”
“It is getting dark. We need to get the kids in. Is the floor good enough Tom?” asked Amelia, looking at the spotless linoleum.
“I guess. I don't think it will ever be clean to me again.”
“Can you get blankets to hang over the windows? I want to keep any light from attracting, well anything, living or dead to us tonight. And we are going to have to use the kitchen to get the kids fed.” Max said.
“Yeah and my old man had duct tape I the shed too, I will go grab a couple of rolls and tell the kids to come in.” Tom opened a cabinet door and pulled out a long narrow box of aluminum foil, he handed it to Max, “We can do the windows with this first, then put blankets over them too, kind of have a double protection. If we let the kids onto the porch they can look and see if they see any light, it could be a fun job for them while helping us out.”
“Good idea, let's do this.” said Max.
Hours later everyone was sleeping in the basement, with the exception of Stewart and Max who were up in the kitchen, keeping watch by peeking through slots cut into the aluminum foil and by occasionally walking the porch around the house. Stewart wanted first watch in case her head injury was worse than it appeared, she said she had heard somewhere that sleeping was bad if you had a brain injury. Max wondered if she had ulterior motives, but for the first couple of hours they barely spoke. The silence was not uncomfortable, they had played a few rounds of cards between paroling the porch. Stewart lost more than she won and after the last hand, where she lost somewhere near ten thousand dollars to Max she had given up in frustration. Max rose from the table and went to the back door.
Stewart perked up and asked, “Something?”
“No. Nothing. But I want to go outside on the porch for a bit. You coming?”
“Count me in. You want another pop?”
Max checked his watch, it was a few minutes after midnight, “Sure one more, and I think that will do me until we get Amelia and Tom up. Mountain Dew me.”
Stewart gave him a wry look in the dim light, “Maturity, that is what I see in you.”
They went out onto the porch and sat down on a couple of chairs with a table in between them. The chairs were around the side of the house looking back over towards where the zombie family had come from earlier. The large utility light was still burning over the huge gravel driveway, but from where they sat it was cut off by the corner of the house, casting the whole area in darkness.
“Anything?” Stewart asked, handing Max his drink.
“No. You just asked me that.”
“I know, but don't you get a longer ranger without any walls in the way?”
“I hadn't thought about it. I guess I do. The town still seems to have a lot of zombies in it.”
“Any people?”
“I haven't looked.”
“Still there were a lot of people here, where did they go?”
“Evacuated, like Tom's parents. Maybe.”
“There were a lot more zombies here too. Most of them moved on. You worried about something?” Stewart asked.
“Yeah. Many, many somethings.”
“Well what is your top concern right now? Zeds?”
“No, not really. I guess I am having faith in my ability to detect them. There are not any close by.”
“So what has you brooding then?”
“I'm not brooding.” Max said, taking a long pull at his can of soda.
“Look it was one quick kiss. I was out of my head, I di…”
“I liked it.”
They sat in silence for twenty or thirty seconds.
“That is good, right?”
“I don't know, my wife died four days ago. I never thought I would be the kind of guy who would jump into bed with another woman this quickly.”
“Who said anything about jumping into bed? What kind of person do you think I am?” Stewart said with mock anger.
“That kind of person. You don't have anything holding you back. I am the one with baggage. On the one hand I want to do what is right for my kids, for my friends, even for Seth and Riley. On the other…”
“Sex.”
“Well yeah.” Max said blushing in the dark.
“You're cute when you blush.”
“Fuck.” He had forgotten that while he seemed to be able to sense the proximity of anyone near them, Stewart seemed to have eyes that could see in the dark.
“Max when we got back to your wife did you make love to her?”
“What kind of question is that?”
She shrugged, “Well, we were holed up in your office for four days, then spent a couple days at your house, then three days on the road, that is nine days, at least, without any relief. From a purely biological perspective you have to be getting, well antsy by now. Unless you choked the chicken somewhere along the way?”
“Stewart! Good God! I don't even talk to friends like this!”
“I am just saying, none of us have had much time for privacy in the past week and a half, the 'buddy system' we have sucks for getting some alone time to take care of our other human needs. I supposed I adopted you as a partner before we ever left your office. Now I find myself attracted to you. Maybe it is just the lack of sex that is driving this. Maybe it is something else.”
“Yeah, like what?”
“You ever hear of 'earthquake sex'?”
“Sure, where the sex is so good the earth moves.”
Stewart laughed and asked, “That ever happen to you?”
“Well, no, not really. I mean the earth didn't move or anything.”
“I am not talking 'good sex', I am talking of a phenomenon where an earthquake causes regular people to get horny and bump their uglies together soon after an earthquake hits them. It is like surviving a horrible catastrophe brings out a zest for living and procreating.”
“I've never been in an earthquake, but you are saying this apocalypse is having that affect on us?”
“It is just a thought. I know from experience that any high adrenaline rush makes me want to have some long, pounding sex afterward. In the last week and a half I've had more close calls than in the rest of my life combined. The pent up frustration is almost painful.”
“Well, I don't really have the same context. This past week I guess I have seen too much sorrow, I don't think I am wired like you, I definitely could live
without any more 'Oh my God we are all going to die!' moments.”
“So? Nothing then?”
“I didn't say that. There is something to what you say, but I have to just deal with it. Like I said when we started talking, what kind of man would I be to jump in the sack with a woman four days after my wife dies?”
Stewart waved her hand through the air dismissively, “The normal kind I'd say. I know boys. They attend a funeral in the morning and are on the prowl at the reception an hour later. It is the way you are built.”
“Ha! I've heard of women who are the same way.”
“Well, all I am saying is we are in a dangerous spot and we should take what pleasure we can, when we can.”
Max looked over at her and their eyes locked into place over the table. Slowly he nodded and she smiled across at him, standing she rose and came over to him, where she knelt in front of him, “How are my eyes doing?” she whispered, “Not too gross?”
“No, they've cleared up…” she interrupted him with a kiss, he hesitated a moment then allowed himself to respond with a passion that started to scare him. Squelching down the part of his mind that was trying to protest he gripped Stewart and pulled their bodies together.
Their hands began to roam over each other's bodies like silent serpents, exploring every crevasse, Max ended up with his hands on the sides of Stewarts head pulling her face into his as continued to kiss, she used her hands to undo his pants and slide them down to his thighs. Pulling back briefly Stewart stripped off her shirt and sports bra in one swift motion then slammed forward into Max again. Their love making was not slow or leisurely, they crashed together like the tide on the rocks and Max was finished all too soon. Stewart was not, and after allowing him a small interval to recover she insistently pull him back into her and brought herself to a finish that ended in a scream of ecstasy that she tried to muffle. Afterward they lay side by side on the porch, their clothing was wadded up and propped up under their heads as pillows. As they lay looking at the corn, the cool night air caressed their bodies.
“Stewart?”
“Yeah Max?”
“You might be right about the earthquake thing.”
She laughed softly, “Max that was just an excuse for something I wanted. You.”
