Learning To Live (Zombie Overload Series)

by Wright, C. M.

I hear its raspy moans. I look into its sunken face. Its eyes droop and its mouth hangs open. Its hair is matted and filthy. Its clothes are torn and stained.

  The undead is closer, just six feet away. Somehow, I find a small amount of strength left in my body, and I raise my gun.

  Pointing it as its head-I close my eyes, open my mouth, and scream with so much rage, so much anger, and too much pain.

  "I love you, Will! I'm so sorry."

  Then I pull the trigger.

  Chapter Eight

  I collapse on the ground next to my husband. I don't care what he'd become, how he smells, or how he looks. This man was my husband and I love him.

  I throw myself across his back, crying and screaming from the pain. Emotional pain that is so much stronger and deeper than even before when we left him behind and I knew he was dead. The pain was great then, but I didn't know he was a zombie. Now, I know. And I shot him. I shot my own husband! The man who was everything to me.

  I know he was already dead, that it was no longer my husband. I really do. But when it's someone you love-someone you could never imagine yourself hurting-and you have to put a bullet in their head? The person you said "I love you" to, who said the same to you? The one you dreamed of growing old with? Had held and been held by? Went through good and bad times, which only made your relationship grow stronger with? No one should have to do this! No one!

  I vaguely hear movement behind me, but I don't care. I feel hands grab my arms, pulling me away from my husband, and I fight to get away-not because I think it might be a zombie, but because they are taking me away from my husband. Then I hear my name being called and Jake is on the floor behind me, his arms around my chest and stomach, trying to hold me back from Will's body.

  Jake's stronger than I am and I fall back against him. We just sit on the floor like that, him holding me as I cry from anger and pain. Jake lays his chin on top of my head and places his hand on my cheek. My sobs eventually quiet in volume but the intensity is still strong. I turn, wrapping my arms around Jake's head, and tuck my face into his neck, unable to look at Will's body any longer. Jake pulls me tighter to him, trying to comfort and calm me.

  "I thought I...told you...not to touch...my wife."

  Jake jumps back about two feet and I jump in the air about the same distance, both of us screaming. Jake grabs me and yanks me back with him. We both press against the wall and stare at Will's body. But Will's eyes are open and-and he's breathing! Still nervous, we stay against the wall.

  "W-Will? D-did...did you really just talk?" I ask, feeling foolish.

  How could he have? It's all just a trick my mind is playing on me. And Jake, too? Well, that I don't know.

  We both watch Will closely. I'm begging him in my mind to please talk, please be alive!

  He blinks.

  He blinked!

  And then he croaks out, "Yes."

  I quickly crawl across the floor to Will and Jake follows. Carefully, we turn him over and discover that I had missed him-obviously-with the bullet. Will explains that he collapsed to the ground as I screamed I loved him, knowing what was coming when I finished.

  I half laugh, half cry with relief and joy. How many people have had to see a loved one as a zombie and had no choice but to kill them? I ache for them. I really do. Even though Will is alive, I didn't know that at the time.

  But I still have my loved one and I'm going to keep his ass alive until he dies of old age. At least I'm damn sure going to try to.

  I glance over at Jake and my body turns ice-cold with fear. He's looking at Will as if he wishes Will had died! But as fast as the look is there, it's gone when he looks up at me.

  Surely it was just the dim light that made it seem as if he was looking at Will that way, right? I mean, he's upset-I get that-but surely Jake isn't that cruel, that heartless, that selfish!

  No. I couldn't have really seen that frightening, evil look on Jake's face.

  Tearing my eyes-and mind-away from Jake, I grab a bottle of the water and hold it for Will as he sips from it. Finally, he's able to tell us what happened to him.

  Back at Ma's house when everyone had gone to save Sam, Will had come face to face with an undead in the kitchen. It stood between him and the hallway. He aimed his gun and squeezed the trigger, but it was empty. He searched through his pockets, but found no ammo.

  Will realized he must have run out when the zombies had surrounded us out front and he'd forgotten to get more. He decided he was just going to have to use the knife on the zombie, when two more came out of the bedroom off the kitchen. Knowing he could never take down three full-grown male zombies, Will yelled for the others, but with Sam screaming, no one could hear him.

  He pauses at this point and stares hard at Jake, who just stares back, his jaw clenched but no other expression.

  What is that about?

  "Will, what's wrong?" I look between him and Jake.

  Will turns his attention back to me, and says, "Nothing. Let me finish."

  Jake lets out a breath and now I'm even more curious but I let it go so I can listen to Will as he finishes his story.

  Will had decided the only option he had was to go out the back door and around to the front. But when he went outside, the neighbor to the right had a yard full of zombies and so did the neighbor on the left. Ma's privacy fence did a good job of keeping them out of her yard, but Will had nowhere to go and no time to do anything else but climb up in the big tree my brother, Ricky, and I climbed as kids. He climbed up as high as he could before the branches got smaller and weaker, but it was high enough.

  He yelled for us once, but the zombies on the outside of the fence went nuts. Will was afraid they would break the fence down and then we would all be screwed, so he just sat up there, feeling like a treed fox with three hounds at the bottom. He sat up there for at least an hour before he heard us leave, his gut clenching with fear.

  After another half hour-and the damn zombies below still not giving up and leaving-Will finally began to look for another way out. He noticed a couple of the branches went out over the garage, and he took a chance, praying the branches would hold him. They did...barely. They broke on him just as he cleared the roof. He fell hard on his side and thought he cracked a couple ribs, definitely bruised them. He told us it's hurt him to breathe ever since, but he made it to the roof. That's all he cared about.

  He sat on the roof of the garage and watched the three zombies leave the tree, and move toward Will's new position. With both neighbors yards full of undead, and more starting to trickle down the alley, he had no idea what he was going to do next.

  Then he remembered all the times I got on my Ma's case about her leaving the keys in her car and he prayed she ignored me as usual. Taking as deep a breath as he could without passing out from pain, he jumped off the roof in front of the door to the garage, twisted the knob, rushed in, and slammed the door shut just as the three undead reached it.

  He ran to the car, knowing the smaller garage door, with its single-paned window that takes up almost the entire top half of the door, wouldn't hold very long. Jerking the door open on Ma's car, he jumped in, reached for the keys in the ignition and almost crapped himself when they weren't there!

  He freaked out for a moment and then forced himself to calm down and think. He started checking the floor, sun visor and glove box for the keys, not really having any hope of finding them. Frustrated and terrified because he wasn't finding them and the undead had just busted in the door, he almost missed them when he checked the console.

  Snatching then up and shoving them in the ignition, he turned the key and the car roared to life. He punched the button for the garage door and impatiently waited until it was up just enough for the car to clear it, the zombies already trying to bust in the car's windows. He floored it in reverse and mowed down a few undead in the alley behind him. Then he put the car in drive and shot down the alley.

  He drove to the highway, certain he was going to catch up with us soon. Then, the
car died. Just...died. No reason. It had gas. It didn't act like anything was wrong with it. It. Just. Died.

  He tried to start it a few times but then stopped, fearing it would attract more undead, and started walking. It was slow going and he knew that, unless we stopped for a very long time, he wasn't going to catch up with us. He stayed off the highway since the undead seemed to prefer it-probably because so much of their favorite food is found there, he assumed. He traveled through high weeds, large mud and water holes-which were freezing cold, he tells us-bushes, branches, in and out of trees, and climbed more than a few fences.

  He was scraped and scratched by various things, slapped with branches, fell several times, was seen and stalked by undead a few times, and was incredibly tired. He had nothing safe to drink or eat, and no time to make anything safe to drink or eat, as the undead damn sure don't honor time-outs.

  Will did go back on the highway to try and get another vehicle, but an undead woman shot up from the backseat when he opened the front door of the first one he came to. The sound of him slamming the door when she startled him brought a whole bunch of moans to his ears. Fleeing back to the ditch, he scrambled up the other side and ran as fast and as long as he could before the pain in his ribs forced him to slow.

  For hours he walked, dodged, climbed, ran, hid and grew weaker from lack of food, water, and rest. He said several times he wanted to just give up and collapse, but he thought of me and our boys, and kept going.

  There's that damn guilt again, I think as I look at Jake and meet his eyes, then look away quickly. Will caught the glance I gave Jake and-with suspicion-looks at both of us through narrowed eyes.

  To my relief, Will let's it go. For now. I am not looking forward to later, but for now he continues telling us what he had gone through.

  He finally came stumbling up the side of the highway to where we are now. He was freezing, starving, thirsty, tired, weak, and in pain from numerous injuries. He says he looked up and saw the gas station and what he thought was a truck that looked exactly like the ones we had taken. Barely able to focus clearly, he refused to let the hope build. He hid in the darkness across from the front of the gas station and watched as Jake scared me but was unable to call out or move, his body close to giving up on him.

  Oh, shit! He had to have seen that Jake tried to kiss me again. I look at Jake and he drops his head, but I'm almost positive I see a grin on his face! I look at Will to see if he noticed Jake's reaction too. His eyes turn cold and his jaw tightens-but he swallows hard, looks at me, and finishes his story.

  He was able to force his body toward the store after we went inside, knowing his time was almost up and he had little hope of making it much further if we left without him. He stumbled and fell in the darkness beside the soda machine near the front door. He watched Jake come back out and as soon as Jake turned the corner of the store, Will struggled back to his feet and made it inside.

  He focused on getting to the open employee door. Hearing my cry when I realized who he was, he turned and came toward me. Will watched me raise the gun, heard my message to him, saw me close my eyes and he dropped to the floor.

  "And now, here we are," he ends the story of his journey with a weak sigh, holding his arm over his ribs. He looks so horrible! Well, obviously he isn't looking pretty. I mean, I did think he was a zombie.

  "I can't believe you're alive and right here in front of me! I love you, Will." I lean forward and give him a soft gentle kiss on his lips―Jake glares at me―Will tells me he loves me too―Jake glares at Will. I hate to do it, but I ask Jake to help me get Will up and to the truck. Jake looks like he wants to refuse, but finally and with a little bit of an attitude, he helps me.

  I really hope Jake can get past this. I mean, he never really had me long enough for this to be such a huge damn deal. Maybe I'm just an idiot. Guess that could be right.

  Because of his reaction, I feel bad about kissing and telling my own husband that I love him in front of Jake! But wouldn't it be more wrong to hide my feelings for my husband and not give my husband what is rightfully his? Good lord! What a mess!

  We get Will inside the back of the truck and comfortably settled before Jake and I head back inside. Jake grabs my arms and stops me, turning me to face him. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He pulls me close and hugs me tight. I give in for a few short seconds and wrap my arms around his waist. He pulls back slightly and kisses me hard on the lips. I kiss him back.

  Chapter Nine

  I admit it. I did this, and even though my heart is breaking for betraying Will, I can't stop myself. At last, I pull away from Jake, turn, pick up a box, and take it outside. As I pass Will, I give him a quick look and a weak smile, terrified he can see the guilt burning on my face. He says nothing and I go back inside.

  Jake and I start bringing out as much as we can fit into the storage areas of the truck, emptying them from their boxes so we have more room. I grab some ready-to-eat items and bottles of water and set them on the seat next to Will. I dig out the bag of medical supplies and medications we have accumulated over the last few days and put that on the floor next to him. Finally, we are ready to go and I sit in the back with Will. Jake sits up front and I catch him several times looking at me in the rearview mirror.

  Doing my best to ignore Jake and not make Will even more suspicious, I use some of the bottled water and one of our rags to wash Will's hands and face the best I can. Then I disinfect and bandage the wounds I can get to and wrap his ribs with an ace bandage. Best I can do for now.

  I settle next to him and catch him up on what all everyone's been up to-uh, well, most of it. He's happy to hear about Bianca joining us but-like me-he's nervous about her safety right now. I've not been able to get an answer when I try to call her, but I'm doing my best to keep in mind that anything other than the worst could have happened.

  Eventually, Will falls asleep and I watch him for a while, thanking God again that he's alive and we are back together. I turn my head to look out the front windshield and catch Jake's eyes in the rearview mirror, looking back at me again, but this time he signals with his head for me to come up front.

  Sighing, I climb over the back of the front seat and sit sideways with my back against the door. I watch Jake for a few minutes, saying nothing and waiting for him to speak, but he doesn't say anything either. I guess he just wanted me to come up front and sit with him.

  Eventually, he turns his head, sees me staring at him, and raises a brow in silent question.

  Keeping my voice low so I don't wake Will-or to be honest-so he doesn't hear the topic of the conversation, I tell him, "Jake, please. No more. I can't do this. Please respect me enough to stop this and just be happy for me,"

  Jake shrugs and gives me his sexy trademark grin-No! No. Not sexy. Not. Sexy. Then he says, "Not sure what you mean. I'm happy for you that your husband's alive. Why wouldn't I be? All I wanted was sex. It's been awhile"

  Oh, damn! That hurt. Ignore it, Canada. Let...it...go. Besides, that makes more sense that him telling me he loves me. I guess some guys never outgrow using that line to get in a girl's pants.

  "Then what's with the extreme dirty looks at Will? He hasn't done anything."

  "What? No dirty looks. Honest! I'm just worried about him. He doesn't look good."

  I want to believe him, but I saw those looks and they weren't "concerned" looks. But what can I do about it if he is lying? Except shooting him, not a damn thing. Don't think I won't be keeping an eye on him, though.

  I nod at him, letting the subject drop, and relax against the door. But I continue watching him, trying to figure him out.

  Jake reaches over and lays his hand on my thigh. What the hell?

  "What do you think you're doing now, Jake?" I ask him in a low, even voice.

  "Well, you were going to have sex with me until he showed up and ruined it. I still want it."

  I jerk my leg away. "You, Jake, are an asshole. There is no frikken way in hell I'll ever have sex with y
ou now. So either find someone else, or try the do-it-yourself method, but keep your damn hands off me."

  Jake sighs and puts his hand-which was creeping back over to my thigh-back on the steering wheel, his face turning to stone. Will moans and-with my heart slamming into my throat, terrified he heard us. I turn and look over the backseat. He's still asleep, but he's holding a hand over the area where he injured his ribs.

  I climb back over and sit on the floor next to where his head rests on the seat above. Bringing my arm up, I brush his hair off his forehead, shocked when I feel the heat coming from his body. It scares the hell out of me.

  Pulling the medical supply bag toward me, I search and find some fever reducer and throw in a couple antibiotics. Waking Will, I hand him the pills and some more water. He's back to sleep within seconds of taking them.

  I try to remember if you're supposed to keep feverish people cool, or warm them and let them sweat it out? I should have been a nurse like my other family members! Oh, for crying-out-loud! Mentally smacking my forehead, I pull out my phone and jump when Will's hand covers mine.

  "Who are you calling?" he asks me.

  "My mom. You have a fever and I need to know what to do."

  "No. Don't call anyone. Just in case."

  "Just in case? Just in case what, Will? What the hell are you saying?" I ask him, my voice rising in volume with fear and dread.

  "Honey, I've been through hell. My body is all kinds of screwed up and now you say I have a fever. I might not make it back. I don't want the boys to go through losing me again. I wish I hadn't found you now, so you don't have to go through this again. You understand, don't you?"

  "NO! You're going to freaking make it. Don't say that shit!"

  He just lies back, saying once again not to call anyone. I try desperately to come up with another way of getting the information I need. I have to know how to save my husband. Then I have a thought and my mind screams at me to text her! Will won't even need to know that I've asked her.