Learning To Live (Zombie Overload Series)

by Wright, C. M.

  I really don't feel comfortable keeping things about her own daughter from her, so this goes against every instinct in me. But if Jake's right, and he can help Canada, I'll do whatever I have to in order to save her...except let Jake become her husband in any other way but in her own confused mind.

  I call Canada's mom and tell her what Jake said to tell her. No one has any idea what had happened, at least not the amnesia part of it, and I'm sure no one but maybe the ones in Jake's vehicle saw when Canada slammed into the windshield. So I'm not surprised when my mother-in-law asks only about her daughter's foot.

  I reassure her that Canada is ok and that we will take care of her and she tells us to be safe and then we hang up. I slowly lower the phone, regretting the deception.

  "Alright. Next exit, take it," Jake says.

  "Where are we going exactly?" I ask him.

  "We're just going to find us an abandoned house somewhere, preferably out of the way and with low zombie traffic."

  Within a few minutes an exit sign appears and I take it, turning right. We go through a decent-sized town and Jake tells me to pull up as close as I can to the front doors of the town's supermarket. I get as close as I can and the truck causes the sliding doors to open.

  "Well, come on. We're gonna need supplies," Jake says.

  "Shouldn't someone stay with Canada?"

  Jake looks back at her as she sleeps in the back seat. "Naw. She'll be alright. Let's go and get this done."

  With one last glance at my wife, I slide across the seat and get out. We pull our guns and go inside the store. Jake and I listen and we hear some noise toward the back of the store. We each grab a cart and start at the first aisle, throwing in food and whatever else we find that we may need.

  At the end of the aisle, Jake peeks his head around the edge and holds up four fingers. I nod and we move out of the aisle and face the four undead. We shoot each one and listen again. Hearing nothing, we continue loading the carts. We are almost to the front of the store on the last aisle when we hear a female scream. Instantly, I know it's my wife.

  Jake and I abandon the carts and take off in a full run, leaping over whatever is in our way. My heart is banging so hard I can barely breathe. My mind is repeating over and over, "Please God, please God, please God!"

  My fear intensifies as we near the doors, where I finally see her trying to keep a huge brute of an undead man away from her with only a cart-all on one foot. The zombie grabs the cart and flings it away, leaving nothing between him and my wife. Jake gets to them first and fires his gun just as it reaches for her. The zombie falls to the floor with a thud and Canada turns in our direction.

  She starts hopping toward us, terror and tears on her face. My arms ache to hold her and I rush forward, but when she flings herself into Jake's arms and seeks comfort from him instead, my heart shatters. I tear my eyes away and do my best to control the pain, telling myself over and over that she doesn't know, it's not her fault, and I hate Jake.

  Letting out a painful breath, I turn and walk away from them. If I have to watch as he wraps his arms around her, hear him call her the pet names I have always called her, and see him press his lips to her face once more, I just might kill him. Unfortunately,I know if I kill him while Canada still thinks he's her husband-and her memory never return-I will lose her forever.

  Knowing she's safe now, I take comfort in that, and go back to wheel the carts to the front. As I approach them, Jake still has his damn hands all over her and he's kissing her on her mouth! Her arms are wrapped around his neck and I lose it.

  I let go of one cart and with the other, slam it into the back of his legs. Canada is knocked away from Jake as his body pushes hard against her before he drops to the floor. She hops backward on one foot trying to keep her balance. Jake is on the ground and looks back at me, amusement in his eyes. His face transforms into a warning and a nod in my wife's direction and I look up at Canada.

  The look on her face is one I never thought I would see coming from her. Hatred. She hates me!

  In frustration, I rub my hands hard over my face. Sucking it up, I apologize to Jake and even walk over and offer my hand to help him up. He takes it, of course, anything to make me feel like less of a man and more of an idiot.

  "That's alright, Will. Accidents happen. Everything's ok. So...let's get the hell out of here." He lifts Canada up in his arms and my gut twists when she wraps her arm around his neck and shoots me one last dirty look. I watch helplessly as he walks away, carrying my wife. Together. More husband and wife than the real husband and wife.

  Disgusted with myself-after all, this whole thing my own fault-I grab both carts and follow them to the truck. We load everything and then Jake climbs in the back with Canada, leaving me to get in the front alone. I swallow my pride, fear, hurt, and misplaced betrayal-and start the truck.

  For the very first time, I wish that I had been killed when they left me behind.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  I shoot daggers into the back of Will's head, angry at him for what he did to my husband. That was no accident! I asked Jake what it was all about but he insisted it really was an accident. Apparently, I was pretty stupid before the amnesia. But not anymore. I will find out what's really going on.

  Jake pulls me tighter against his side and I let it go...for now. I look up at Jake and he grins down at me, before leaning in and kissing me long and deep. Then I snuggle into him and just watch the scenery outside the window.

  After about an hour, we turn left onto a long drive off the highway. Up ahead is a big two-story freshly painted light blue farmhouse. The white wraparound porch is beautiful against the softness of the blue and I think how wonderful it would be to live in a home like this with my husband and kids.

  But then my thoughts on that abruptly end when I look at Jake. He doesn't seem the type to enjoy living in the middle of nowhere in a large home, with pets running everywhere. No, but Will would.

  Where did that come from?

  "Jake, would you want to live in a place like this?" I ask him, just to be sure. Is it something from my memories or just intuition?

  Jack laughs, "Hell no! Give me a flat in the city anytime. This would bore the hell out of me within minutes."

  The thought of living in a small apartment in a big city makes me cringe.

  I give him a tight smile, wondering where we actually lived before, and if I were at all happy. I turn my head to the front.

  "Will, what about you? Would you live here?" Somehow I already know his answer.

  "I would, in a heartbeat."

  We pull up in front of the porch steps and Jake warns me not to get out. I think I've learned that lesson. I catch Will give me an odd, hurt look when I kiss Jake quickly on the lips before he shuts the door. I watch as Jake enters the house first. Before following him inside, Will stops, turns, and looks back at me with a very sad expression on his face. Then he walks into the house.

  There's something there. Just out of reach, but my head pounds each time I try to push further, until I finally have to give up.

  Eventually, they both come back outside and Jake helps me out of the truck. I stand on one foot and do my best to stretch. Jake asks me if I'm ready to go in and I ask him if I could sit on the porch for a little while.

  He grins at me and says, "Why not?"

  He lifts me in his arms and as we turn, I catch Will looking at us, again. The pain on his face breaks my heart, but I haven't a clue why. Jake sets me down gently in a rocking chair and I adjust the pillow on my foot to make it more comfortable. Then I sit back and watch the guys unload the truck.

  They don't speak to each other unless they have to and the underlying hatred is very noticeable. Were they friends at one time? Hell, are they related? Who is Will, exactly? My mind is rolling with questions I very much want answers to. So I ask.

  "Are you two friends?" They stop what they are doing and snap their heads to look at each other. Jake laughs and Will starts cussing.

 
; "Hell no!" Will tells me emphatically. They go back to unloading.

  I wait a minute and then call out my next question.

  "Honey, how do we know him then?" I ask.

  "We― "

  "We found him after all this started. He needed help and we helped him." I hear Jake, but my eyes are locked on Will's own, which are staring right back at me. I didn't miss that he attempted to answer me first. Just what in the hell is going on?

  I truly hate feeling stupid, or being laughed at-which I feel as if that's pretty much what they're doing, since they know things I don't. Surely I'm making a fool of myself, but they damn sure aren't helping me out any.

  Screw it. The pain is too much and if these assholes want to play games, they can play with each other!

  I laugh aloud at that thought and the two big strong jerks look at me as if I lost my mind.

  HA! Exactly right. Technically, I did lose my mind, and I'm going to enjoy the rest of the evening on this beautiful porch at this beautiful house and stop worrying about you two drama queens!

  I relax back in the chair and look out over the property. It's so peaceful. So perfect. I realize the world has changed into something horrific, and I can't help but wish I could just stay here with my memories intact and with my family.

  The guys take the last load inside and after a few minutes, the screen door beside me opens again and Will walks out. He asks if I mind if he sits in the chair next to me. I shrug and tell him I don't mind.

  "How are you feeling, Canada?" he asks with true sincerity.

  "My head hurts, of course, and so does my foot. My head really starts to pound when I try to remember too hard, and not having any real memories suck."

  "I bet it does. It does for me, too." His words are spoken with deep sadness and I cock my head to one side to study him.

  He's pretty hot, himself, in a rugged outdoorsy way-tall, dark, and handsome. His eyes are a gorgeous brown with long lashes that most women have to pay to get. His lips are full, kissable. He has dark brown hair, and even though he looks skinny, I can clearly see the muscles bulging on his bare arms and through his shirt.

  He's leaning forward in his chair, his arms on his legs and his head bowed low between his shoulders. I can see just the side of his face, but even the one side shows incredible pain. For some reason, I feel pain seeing him like this, and I don't understand why.

  It's obvious there's something he wants to say to me, but he seems to be having trouble saying it. I just look out over the grounds and wait.

  Finally, I hear him suck in a breath and release it slowly. My body tightens, waiting for whatever it is he's going to say, assuming it's something big.

  I turn my head to him as he opens his mouth to speak.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  "Canada, I don't think I can do this. I have to tell you something―"

  The screen door opens and Jake steps out. I catch the look he gives Will and Will looks away. Obviously whatever he'd been about to say, Jake isn't going to let him. And it's more than obvious he was standing just inside the door, eavesdropping.

  "Honey, would you like to get a shower?" Jake asks me.

  "Alone," Will mumbles under his breath.

  I look at both of them, anger and frustration building rapidly. Jumping out of my chair-awkwardly, I admit. Only having one good foot screws up the whole dramatic effect-I glare at them.

  "Both of you either stop this shit or tell me what the hell is going on! I'm sick of it. You're both acting like idiots and you're making my head scream in pain. So, do one of you want to tell me what's going on or not?" I look at them, one at a time, but neither one shows any sign of talking.

  "Stinking fools! Bloody idiots! That's it! I'm done with this shit. Both of you stay away from me!"

  I hop into the house then stop and look around the living room. Damn. I take a few breaths to calm myself and then...screw the calm!

  "Jake!" I scream as loud as I can. Considering he's only a few feet away on the other side of the screen door, it doesn't take him long to rush in, with Will only a second or two behind. They come to a screeching halt when they see me standing right in front of them, safe, my hands on my hips, one brow cocked, and an intense expression of real anger on my face.

  "Go get my clothes and hurry the hell up!" They share a look and then Jake goes outside to the truck.

  Wait a minute! I knew I had clothes in the truck. I remembered something! Sure, it wasn't anything big...but it was something!

  My eyes widen and I look up at Will. I start smiling a very big smile and after a few seconds, he sucks in a deep breath and his own eyes widen as he catches on.

  "You remembered! Canada, what else do you remember?" he asks with excitement and...hope.

  My smile fades as I realize he hopes I've remembered something else. I hate to disappoint him, but I haven't. I shake my head at him. His face falls and I have the urge to go and comfort him.

  Jake comes back in, which stops me from acting on that urge, and helps me to the bathroom. When I get inside, he removes the pillow from my foot and I yelp with pain when my foot is free from the binding. Then he helps me undress. Once I'm completely naked, he pulls me to him, careful of my foot. He kisses me deeply and runs his hands over me.

  I finally push him away and, with a laugh, tell him I want nothing more than a shower right now. I see his disappointment and frustration but he helps me in the shower. I hear the door shut as he leaves and I do my best to shower on one foot. It's not that easy. Lots of leaning against the wall.

  I shut off the water when I'm done, and carefully get out of the shower. It takes awhile, but I manage to dress and leave the bathroom on my own. I go back up the hall and enter the living room where I can hear the men in the kitchen and it sounds as if they are arguing.

  Well, if they won't tell me what's going on, I'll just find out on my own. I attempt to sneak over to the kitchen door to eavesdrop, but the hopping screws it all up. I lose my balance and fall into a hutch that's against the wall next to the kitchen door. Figurines and decorative plates crash down on my head, then bust on the floor, trapping me in place with my one good-but bare-foot.

  "Canada!" I hear Will yell, panic in his voice.

  He and Jake burst into the room and stop, taking in the mess and the klutz who caused it. Jake storms over and lifts me in his arms, then dumps me on the sofa and stands back-arms crossed and glaring at me. Will walks over and sits next to me, grabbing my good foot and checking it for glass and cuts. Shouldn't it be Jake who's more concerned about my well-being?

  Jake narrows jealous eyes at Will and I jerk my foot out of his hands. The last thing I need is for these two to get into it again.

  "I'm fine," I tell Will softly. "Thanks." I give him a quick smile and his face lights up.

  Jake clears his throat, loudly, and gives me an intense look.

  "Canada, were you eavesdropping on us?" he asks.

  "No! I was only trying to get to the kitchen where you guys were. If you two lovebirds want private time together, let me know first." That makes him lose some of his cockiness. And I wasn't lying. How could I eavesdrop when my dumb ass never made it to that point?

  "Just wait here." Jake leaves and comes back with the pillow and more duct tape. I groan when I see them. Yes, it helps protect my foot-to a degree-and it does help stabilize it from flopping around, but it's so bulky, heavy, and awkward.

  "Why can't you just go get me some crutches and an air cast or something?" I moan.

  "Tomorrow. I'll get you some tomorrow. Tonight, we are going to eat and get some sleep. You got pretty messed up today-well, just about everyday-so you really need the rest," Jake says.

  "Yeah? And why is it that I get hurt so much? Don't you two do anything to protect me? Or am I the one who does all the protecting, considering you two don't look that bad at all?"

  A woman. I vaguely remember hearing another woman say pretty much the same thing. But who?

  Explosive pain erupts in my
head and I have to let it go.

  Both guys are still sputtering and talking over each other in response to my last question, some bullshit about how I do what I want, I don't listen, blah, blah, blah. I roll my eyes and tune them out. Eventually, they realize I'm no longer listening-and after a lot of bullshit like, "See?" and "You're not listening now!"-Jake helps me into the kitchen after he and Will clean up the mess I made.

  I sit at the kitchen table and Jake sets a bowl of soup with a plate of chips in front of me. Will pours me a glass of soda and I dig in. I feel like I haven't eaten in days. I briefly consider asking when I last ate-but deciding I really don't care-I forget about it and finish eating. The guys are on either side of me at the round wooden table and none of us speak.

  Finished, they clean up while I wait for them at the table. When Jake is done, I ask him to help me to the bedroom-I'm more than ready for sleep.

  He carries me to the bedroom off the living room and sets me on the edge of the bed. Helping me take the pillow off once again, he helps undress me...once again.

  I ask him if I have a nightgown or something easier to get in and out of, and he tells me he'll be right back as he leaves the room. I grab a blanket folded at the bottom of the bed and wrap it around myself. Jake comes back in with a long cotton nightgown. It's bright green and I wrinkle my nose, instinctively knowing I would never have bought that.

  "Where did you get that?" I ask.

  "I found it in one of the dressers in the bedroom down the hall." He sniffs it. "Smells clean."

  "Gross, Jake! I'm not putting that nasty thing on me. Just because it's in a dresser and "smells" clean doesn't mean it is. Forget it. I'll just sleep naked. But you damn well better not let any zombies in, because if I'm going to be bit, I don't want to be a naked zombie." I'm dead serious, yet he laughs.

  I lay down-he reattaches that damn pillow-and then covers me. Jake tucks me in then kisses me, telling me to get some sleep and he loves me. I mumble I love him, too, already drifting off.