In Another Life
Page 6
Amelia got up from her seat then, setting aside her mending. “Come on,” she said gently, helping Glenn stand up.
“You believe, don’t you?” Glenn asked Amelia as he allowed himself to be hauled to his feet.
“Yes, I do,” Amelia said, and Sadie thought she sounded earnest. “We can pray together, let’s go to bed now. Say goodnight.”
Glenn turned to look at Sadie, who sat reading by the fire. “Repent, Sadie,” he said. “We’re the fortunate ones. It’s a sign.”
“Whatever,” Sadie said, rolling her eyes as Amelia led Glenn to their bedroom.
Sadie looked over at Christian, who sat a few feet away, playing with a toy car that was missing a wheel. He must have felt her gaze, because he looked at his big sister eagerly. “He’s a drunk fucking lunatic,” she said. “Don’t forget that.” Christian looked down and went back to his game.
Sadie felt a little guilty for bad-talking Glenn to Christian, now that their father was dead and burned up, his ashes scattered in the lake. He’d insisted that Sadie burn up his body after he died. She threw up behind the garage after starting the funeral pyre she’d prepared and leaving him to burn to ashes. It was the only way to guarantee that he wouldn’t become one of them, because the soil that he’d be buried in contained the virus. The water they drank had it, too. It was in the air.
The virus, spread worldwide by the dozens of nuclear bombs that were launched within the same 24-hour period all those years ago, only affected the recently dead. Or, according to some reports Sadie heard, sometimes the nearly dead. They sprang up as mindless cannibals. They kept walking and feeding and rotting until they were destroyed. Having to set her father’s dead body aflame was horrifying, but the alternative was a much worse scenario.
Sadie thought of her father, of all he’d done to keep them protected against those monsters. And of course, protected from other people. People who meant them more harm than the mindless zombies. Sadie hadn’t really believed in such people…until she met Amelia.
Sadie stood just inside the gates, puffing on her joint and looking up at the sky. Amelia couldn’t help getting swept up in her old nightmares sometimes. The fact that Amelia could hold herself together most days, after all she’d been through, was amazing enough, Sadie often thought. She would never begrudge her those dark days. Her life was a miracle.
Sadie was distracted from her thoughts by a low guttural noise, coming from the end of the driveway. She turned and saw one of them at the gates. It stared at Sadie with its one remaining eye, moaning wordlessly as it banged uselessly at the gates. “Fuck off,” Sadie told the creature, though it couldn’t understand her, of course.
The thing would either freeze overnight, or would eventually hear a noise and wander away. The gate and walls were completely zombie-proof. Sadie turned and left the thing alone without giving it another thought. Her father left them completely protected, and for that, she would always have to be grateful.
Sadie went inside, and she was surprised to find Amelia at the stove, putting on the kettle. She was wearing her ratty old robe, her braid all undone from lying in bed all day. But she turned to Sadie and smiled a little. “Hi.”
“How’re you feeling?” Sadie asked cautiously.
“Better,” Amelia said. “Want some tea?”
“Sure,” Sadie said. “Thanks.”
As they waited on the kettle, they went back to their bedroom. Amelia sat on the edge of the bed and Sadie knelt behind her. She brushed out her lover’s long blonde hair and quickly braided it in a neat French twist running down her back. When she’d finished tying it off with a bit of thread, Sadie pulled down Amelia’s robe and kissed her shoulder softly. Amelia did not pull away.
“I was just thinking about how safe we are here,” Sadie said.
“I know,” Amelia sighed.
“I hope you feel safe,” Sadie said.
“I do,” Amelia said. “I’ve always felt safe with you. Since the day I met you.”
Sadie put her arms around her lover, kissing the top of her head. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” They heard the kettle begin to whine then, and they got up and went to the kitchen.
Christian wandered in as Sadie poured the tea. “Hi, Mommy,” he said. Amelia knelt down and greeted her son with a kiss.
“Do you want a snack?” Amelia asked. “I think there’s still a box of cookies up in the pantry.”
Christian nodded vigorously, and they all sat down to eat an old box of store-brand cookies together. The cookies were just a bit stale, not bad with tea, and they ate half the box together without giving it another thought.
It was a relief to see Amelia pull herself out of her dark thoughts so quickly. Sadie remembered Amelia’s worst spell, not long after Christian was born. Amelia wouldn’t leave her bed for days. When Glenn badgered her to get up and feed the baby, Amelia finally screamed at him. “Leave me alone!” And she hauled off and smacked him in the eye. Glenn was stunned.
Stupid Glenn. He’d seen the rapist’s dead body. He knew what his lover was capable of if she was backed into a corner.
*
Keeping the fire going and preparing food took up enough of their time during the winter months to make the days pass rather quickly. Sadie remembered when winter on the farm was a scramble for survival, a time of careful rations and cold days, of shivering in bed all night. But they were old hands at it now, and with Sadie’s monthly trips down to La Ronge, they had more than enough food and supplies to see them through.
One day, perhaps a few days before Christmas, Sadie put off a trip to La Ronge because of a snow storm. “I’ll try tomorrow,” she told her lover.
Amelia nodded in approval. “Don’t take the risk,” she agreed. “Actually, we’ve got enough to get us through the rest of the season. You don’t have to go again ‘til the thaw, really.”
“Yeah, but what about when we run out of that stuff?” Sadie asked. “The Charles family sets aside what we need, they expect me.”
“All right,” Amelia said. And they spent the afternoon going over the inventory again.
In the morning, Sadie got up early to clear the driveway with the plow before loading the supplies in the bed of the truck. Amelia, up even earlier to make breakfast and see her lover off, checked the rifle before handing Sadie the shopping list.
Amelia kissed her goodbye. “Drive safely,” she said.
“I always do,” Sadie said.
It was slow going on the already rough country road, as it always was after a fresh snow. But the plow got Sadie through, as usual, and she pulled up to La Ronge in the late morning. She knocked at the Charles family store, and Remy came out in his coat to help her unload the truck. He was oddly quiet as they took her offerings into the store.
“How’ve you been?” Sadie asked as Remy looked over her inventory list at the counter.
Remy frowned. “Things aren’t so great around here,” he admitted. Sadie looked around the shop. It was as well stocked as ever. Then she realized…
“Your parents?”
“My dad,” Remy said. “Went last week.”
“I’m sorry,” Sadie said. Remy looked down at the counter for a moment, regaining his composure, his eyes narrowed into dark slits. Sadie felt for him. She knew what it was like, to lose a parent and be thrust into the position of head of the family. At times like these, it felt very heavy.
“Mom’s not great, either,” Remy said.
“Yeah, Manny mentioned.”
Remy was eager to get down to business then. Sadie brought along some of the newest weed harvest, finally in top condition (as Sadie herself could attest to). She was able to clean Remy out of his canned chili (with beans and meat; Amelia would be pleased, she’d dump it on baked potatoes), and she got a few gallons of gas. She had more than enough gas in the garage to fill the truck’s entire tank, but she was in the habit of hoarding it, as her father once did. One could never know when gas wouldn’t be available.
Sa
die traded Amelia’s sweaters for a couple of new coats. One would work for Christian for a couple of years, the other could be shared by the women, Sadie figured. Some canned fruit and boxes of “just-add-water” stovetop meals, and as much wood and fuel as Sadie could afford, rounded out a pretty decent haul. Remy set Sadie’s purchases aside while she went upstairs to see Manny. The pretense of going to pay her respects wasn’t necessary.
Sadie found Manny in the kitchen, as she’d expected. Manny was sitting at the table, smoking a joint. “Hey,” she greeted Sadie. She was so stoned she hardly turned her head.
Sadie joined her at the table. “I’m sorry about your dad,” she said.
“We knew it was coming,” Manny said. “Mom’s next, I’m telling you.” Sadie just nodded, and she accepted the joint when Manny passed it. Manny got up. “Want some orange juice?” she asked. “It’s not real orange juice, just that tangy powder shit.”
“Sure,” Sadie said. “We drink that, too.”
“Do you remember real orange juice?” Manny asked. “With the pulp in it? Dad always said the pulp’s good for you.” Manny turned away as she poured a couple of glass jars full of water. She mixed in a neon orange powder and stirred with a spoon.
“You know what I miss sometimes?” Sadie asked. “Pizza.”
“Pizza!” Manny declared, handing Sadie her glass. “You want to mix a little something with that? Johnny’s been brewing in the bathtub.”
“No, thanks,” Sadie said. After her father died, she and Amelia tried the little of his moonshine that was left. It was nasty, and it made them both sick. Sadie vowed never to drink again.
Manny sat down without turning her juice into a mixer. “I can’t wait to get the hell out of here.”
Sadie frowned. “Did those friends of yours take off?”
“’Bout a month ago,” Manny said. “They’d be all settled in at Sanctuary Coast by now.”
“Um, hm,” Sadie said, not wanting to indulge such an idea. Then again, she didn’t want to upset Manny at a time like this.
Sadie looked at the table, avoiding Manny’s eyes for a moment, and noticed what her part-time lover was reading. She smiled. “You find one of your brother’s old girlie magazines?” she asked.
Manny frowned. “It was my dad’s,” she admitted. “We found it when we were clearing out all his stuff. Whatever we can’t use, we’ll sell.” She held up the magazine, flipped to the center, which featured a full spread of a lithe, naked woman, sitting on a mechanical bull, thrusting her tits up as she grasped the saddle. She wore only a little straw cowboy hat. “I’m getting some use out of this.”
“I bet,” Sadie said. When Manny slid the old magazine over to her, she flipped through it slowly. Manny had shown her pictures of women before, asking her which ones she liked best, when they’d first started seeing each other. She found a picture of a woman with a round, perky ass, the bottoms of her smooth cheeks sticking out of the bottom of a football jersey. Sadie couldn’t remember the team she was wearing; maybe it was just a generic jersey, she thought. “I like her,” she said, showing Manny the picture.
Manny examined it for a moment. “She’s got a little white girl ass,” she commented.
Sadie shrugged. “So do I.”
Manny put the magazine aside. “She reminds me of this girl I had a crush on when I was ten,” she said. “Sweet little Nina. She was in our band, but she was little like that, and she liked playing sports with the boys.” Manny frowned. “I don’t know what happened to her.”
Sadie nodded. “I don’t know what happened to anyone I knew before.” She suddenly realized, “I don’t know anyone from before this all happened. They’re all dead, or…”
Manny’s palm hit the table so suddenly that Sadie jumped. Manny laughed a little at her. “Maybe they’re at Sanctuary Coast,” she said. “Or maybe there’s safe places popping up all over. We might be missing out on civilization out here, Sade.”
Sadie wanted to handle it delicately. “I wouldn’t want to go out there without knowing for sure. I wouldn’t want you to, either.”
Manny frowned, and took a long drink from her jar. “I’m gonna top this off,” she said, and she headed down the hall, certainly to put some moonshine in her glass. Sadie didn’t try to stop her; why should she? Manny was grieving, and if she wanted to drink, she should. When Manny came back to the kitchen, she mixed more bright orange powder into her jar. When she sat down, she took another long drink.
“I’m sorry,” Sadie said.
Manny put down her jar. “For what?” she said. “You’re not wrong.”
“I’m not saying that your friends…”
“I mean, they know people who’ve gone there,” Manny said. “Nobody ever came back. It can’t be that…”
Sadie wanted to believe, as Manny did, that civilization was really beginning again, somewhere. Not just people scrambling and bartering and begging in order to survive. Not just people having to protect themselves from monsters both living and dead. So she nodded.
“Yeah,” she said. “Maybe.”
Manny smiled. “I’m gonna listen for any more news about it,” she said. “The minute I hear anything, I’m gone. I’m leaving with the next people who say they’re going.”
“What about your family?”
Manny shrugged. “They can come, too,” she said. “Or they can stay here and run their stupid store. I don’t really care at this point.”
Sadie didn’t like hearing this, but she thought of all the times she’d been angry with her family. When she felt stifled by them. When she felt like they cared about everything else more than they did about her. She understood. She reached out and took Manny’s hand.
“Just…if there’s something really out there, we’ll really hear about it soon enough,” Sadie said. “On the radio or…or something. Just don’t do anything…”
Manny sighed, and she grasped Sadie’s hand. “I know,” she said. She looked like she was about to cry. “It’d break Mom’s heart if I did that.”
They didn’t fuck above the store that day. Sadie comforted Manny, let her talk about her family, her dad, her frustrations, anything she wanted to. Just like when she and Amelia were younger, and Amelia would confide all her secrets to Sadie. She just held her hand and listened. They shared another joint, and Manny laughed a little, and cried a lot, and they parted with a hug. Sadie stayed much longer than she might have if she actually had slept with Manny that day.
Remy was alone in the store, placing Amelia’s sweaters on the shelf. “Here,” he called her, and he tossed her another jacket, sized for an adult. “They’re good sweaters.”
“It was good yarn,” Sadie said. “She could probably make a few more.”
“They go fast,” Remy said. He came over and helped Sadie load her supplies in the bed of the truck. After Sadie tied down the tarp, they shook hands. “Drive safe,” he said.
“Hey,” Sadie said. “You ever hear anything about this ‘Sanctuary Coast’? Manny keeps saying…”
Remy frowned. “Just stupid rumors.”
Sadie nodded. “That was kind of my thought.”
“I hope you talked some sense into her,” Remy said, and he nodded to her before he went back in the store. Sadie got in the truck and headed slowly up the main drag, heading north out of La Ronge. She drove through the path she’d plowed on her way down, and it was an easy drive. She thought of Manny all the way back to the farm.
Chapter Five
When Sadie got back home, she brought in a box of supplies. She nearly dropped it when she saw the decorations that were put up in her absence.
Sadie knew that her grandparents’ old Christmas decorations were boxed up in the cellar. She found them when she was looking for the pictures. Amelia decorated the sitting room and kitchen with little Santa figurines, yards of tinsel, and dozens of little snow globes. Her grandmother collected snow globes from all over the place, just like the collection of random coffee mugs. After years in sto
rage, the water inside most of the globes was kind of dirty. But Amelia wiped them all down with a moist rag before drying them and setting them out.
Amelia was in the kitchen, starting dinner. “There you are,” she said. “I was starting to worry.” She came over and greeted Sadie with a kiss.
“You decorated,” Sadie said.
“You’re not mad, are you?” Amelia asked, frowning as she took the box from Sadie’s arms. “I thought it might cheer us all up.”
“No, it’s…it’s nice,” Sadie said. It was weird. They hadn’t celebrated any holidays since coming to the farm. They worked, they rested. They ate, they worried. They fucked, they cried. It was the same every day.
“I’m not really sure when Christmas is, exactly,” Amelia admitted. “Might be in two or three days, is my best guess.”
Sadie kissed her lover. “Merry Christmas,” she said. Amelia beamed.
They played the radio as they had dinner, turning up the Christmas music on the crackling speakers. They ate more beans and rice with fresh bread. Sadie built a fire in the living room, and Christian sat with a couple of his toys while Amelia and Sadie snuggled on the couch, Amelia’s head resting on Sadie’s shoulder, Sadie’s arms around her lover.
“You got a lot of good stuff,” Amelia remarked. “I don’t think we’ve had chili with meat in a while.”
“We can save that for Christmas,” Sadie said. “Whenever we’re celebrating it.” Amelia giggled. “Sorry I didn’t get you anything special.”
“It’s okay,” Amelia said, and she turned her head and kissed Sadie’s cheek. “I’m just glad you’re home. I was starting to worry.”
“Sorry,” Sadie said. “The roads.” And she told her lover about Mr. Charles. Amelia looked troubled as she sat up.
“You don’t think they’ll close up shop, do you?” she asked.