Blood 4 Life

by M. Lorrox

  Skip enters with caution. He sees her lying on top of her neatly made bed with her hands folded serenely on her stomach. Skip can tell, however, that his daughter is feeling anything but peaceful. “You’ve been up here an awful while. What’s up?”

  June closes her eyes with a long exhale. She and her dad are close—they have always been—but sometimes talking to him is hard. “I don’t know exactly.”

  Skip pulls out her desk chair and sits on it backward, leaning his arms over the curved back. “Well, what kinds of things are you feeling?”

  I feel angry, I feel sad, and I feel—alone. I’m so stupid; this is no use. “I don’t know, Dad. I’m just being weird.”

  “Hmm. Well, Miss Weirdo, did something happen?”

  I can’t tell you, Dad. “I guess I’m feeling lonely. And maybe a little scared about the zombies.”

  Skip tries not to frown. “I know, June. Me too. Mind if I sit with you?”

  She shakes her head. As he gets out of the chair, she sits up and slides backward to lean against the headboard.

  Skip sits next to her and puts his arm around her. “I wish I could fix everything.” I wish Monica was here. I wish she never went on that trip. I wish life didn’t turn into a horror movie and that zombies were just a made-up nightmare. June lays her head on his collarbone. He looks down at her straight, black hair. It’s not fair she has to deal with this!

  Skip remembers back to when he and Monica decided to start a family. He was concerned at first, and maybe even wary at the thought. He wondered where his hesitation came from; he loved Monica more than anything, and he wanted the whole world with her. Was he “just being a guy” and not wanting to settle down, or was it a fear that he wouldn’t be a good father?

  The thought of having a baby scared him at first back then, but as he thought about it more and more, the hesitation turned into excitement. Soon he was imagining not only sharing a life filled with love with his wife, but also with a child.

  He surprised Monica with his answer one night. They were lying in bed talking, each drinking a glass of wine when he told her. They were so excited that they talked and laughed and imagined their family’s future for hours and hours. They fell asleep with the lights still on and didn’t start trying to get pregnant until the next day.

  Weeks turned into months, and Monica was still not pregnant. They were recommended to a fertility clinic, and they had tests performed. They were eventually set on a medication and dietary program to help encourage fertilization. It was a stressful and challenging time for them, and their relationship was tested. After a few months on the prescriptions and dietary restrictions, after a good deal of money, effort, and tears were spent, they conceived. June was born, eight and three-quarter months later.

  Skip felt confident while bringing his wife to the hospital after her water broke; he had aided the birth of many farmyard animals during his studies and career as a veterinarian, so he thought he’d be fine during the delivery. However, he was taken by complete surprise when he came into the birthing room with Monica. He no longer felt confident—instead, he was petrified. The doctor commented that it didn’t matter how used to birthing someone can be. She had said with a knowing grin, “It’s always different when it’s yours.”

  When labor was finished and he heard that baby use her lungs for the first time—screaming and crying for air—then he relaxed. When he was given June to hold, the world around him disappeared. As he looked down at her, with his wife’s hand adjusting the little blanket on the baby’s chest, he knew that all the heartache and pain that they’d gone through and felt was nothing compared to the enveloping love he felt for that little girl. Every doubt and concern was vaporized by that little puffy tan face and the weight of that life in his arms.

  Skip takes a relaxing breath and squeezes June’s shoulders tighter for a second. He clears his throat and again looks down at June’s head leaning on his collarbone. He uses the hand wrapped around her to pet her long hair. He can’t help but wonder, If I knew everything that was to happen, would I have done things differently?

  June moves her head to lay it on his shoulder, in a sort of hug. She nuzzles her cheek into his shirt. “You always fix it, Dad.”

  Skip squeezes his eyes closed on developing tears, smiling. Whatever choices I made, they were the right ones. She’s perfect. “You know you can always talk to me…about anything.”

  June pulls away and sits up.

  Skip tries to discreetly dry his eyes. I knew there was something.

  June runs the bottom edge of her shirt through her fingers. I don’t know what to do. Should I tell him about Eddy and their plan? He might try and stop them, or maybe not, but I have this really bad feeling. Eddy is more than a friend; he’s like…my brother? No, can’t be; that’d be gross. He’s like—he’s Eddy. I’m scared for him.

  -DeeeeeDiiinng- Skip gets a text message.

  June looks at him. “What is it?”

  “Just my phone.”

  June acts impatient. “Yeah, but who is it?”

  “I don’t know.” Skip leans toward June and raises his eyebrows with a grin. “Would you like me to check?” He pulls his phone out and looks. “Oh. It’s Charlie—”

  June’s pulse quickens, and her eyelids blow open. Shit, what happened? “Is—”

  “He wants to stop by to give me something for the pickup… I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

  June’s heart flutters its way down a couple flights.

  “I’ll tell him I’m busy.” Skip starts texting back.

  “No, he can come by. Maybe we can talk after?”

  Skip shows his confusion. “Uh, okay. I mean, of course we can talk more later. Are you sure?”

  June gets up off the bed. “Yes, I want to do some writing anyway.” She pauses for a second. She’s caught by a picture pinned to her wall of her, her friends, and Eddy. She looks back at Skip. “Can you tell him I say hi? To all of them…Sadie and Eddy too?”

  Skip gets up off the bed. What’s going on with you, my little weirdo? Something with Eddy, right? “Sure, I’ll tell him that you say hi, to him and Sadie and Eddy.” He gives her a pleasant smile and opens his arms for a hug.

  “Thanks.” She steps into the hug.

  “We’ll talk more later, then? And if you’re up for it, maybe a game of chess? I promise to try really hard to go easy on you.”

  June laughs. “How about if you try really hard to do well.” She scoffs. “I can’t remember the last time you beat me.”

  “Hey now, this winter when it snowed a quarter inch and they shut down the town, I got both your rooks and had you running scared.”

  “You fail to remember that I was in bed with the flu and a fever. And still, you didn’t beat me: we stalemated.”

  Skip stands. “Alright, alright. I promise to try hard.” He smiles, turns and walks out, then sends Charlie a text:

  Now’s good, come on over. Everything cool over there?

  Roger is driving his flashy SUV with Joe, Jess, and Sophia riding with him. Joe, being the navigator, rides shotgun while the two girls ride in the back. Roger turns out of the field and onto the road, with Craig following behind him.

  Joe was on top of the world—until a second ago. “Wait. We’re going to switch trucks?”

  Roger nods. “That’s what I said. There’s no way I’m letting a zombie get close to this baby.”

  Joe understands, but is still deflated. “What kind of truck will we be taking then?”

  “Another Land Cruiser, like this one. I picked it up as a donor about a year ago.”

  “Donor?”

  Roger looks over at Joe through his dark sunglasses. “A donor is to take parts from if I need them—” he caresses his steering wheel, “—for this baby.”

  “Oh, gotcha.” Joe looks down at the map in his lap. Their first stop is marked, and they’ll need to turn soon. “Craig isn’t coming with us to switch trucks, is he?”

  “No, their rou
te takes them out to the east. When I turn—in a couple miles or so—they stay straight, and we won’t see them until we meet up later.” He glances at Joe and notices that he looks concerned. Roger gives him a light punch on the shoulder. “And that’s when the fun really starts!”

  Joe forces a smile, even though the punch hurt his arm. He looks into the backseat at Jess and Sophia. Jess flashes her brows up and smiles. Sophia is looking out of her window, crunching on something in her mouth.

  Roger points out the windshield. “Okay, there’s our turn. Joe?”

  Joe looks confused. “What?”

  Roger sighs dramatically. “You’re on radio duty, Joe. We’re starting, so you need to actively relay info with them.”

  “Oh, right! Sorry.”

  Roger shakes his head. “Just radio them already.”

  Joe holds down the transmit button on the walkie. “We’re making our turn to head to the first stop. Over.”

  Behind them, in Craig’s Explorer, Tomas is the navigator and radio operator. The seating arrangement is just like in Roger’s truck, with the navigator riding shotgun and the shooters in the back.

  Tomas waits a moment after hearing Joe say “over” before he holds down the button on his walkie, just like he’s seen in the movies. “Copy that. Over.”

  Bill gives Tomas a thumbs-up. “Good job.”

  He smiles and turns around, looking at Eddy.

  Eddy gives him a curt nod. “Pretty cool, huh Tomo?”

  “Yeah, man.” He turns back around to study the map. Once we cross over to the other side of town, we’ll get off the highway and start sweeping through the neighborhoods for zombies. That’s when they’ll need navigation the most. Until then, I can just chill. This is so cool!

  Bill takes out his phone and starts to text.

  Eddy can’t help but glance at the message; he’s texting someone named Stacy. Eddy turns away to look out the window, giving Bill some privacy. He can see the other vehicle driving down a side road. He strains to try and catch a glimpse of any of the passengers through the back window, but he can’t. She is in there, though.

  Eddy looks down at his lap and takes out his phone. He pulls up his text messages and swipes to his messages with June. He taps to create a new message, but he stares at the cursor for a few seconds before canceling out of it. He switches over to the messages between him and his parents. I should send them something so they don’t completely freak…

  Out with friends, might see a movie. I’ll be home later.

  He silences his phone and looks back out the window. The sun is dipping lower in the sky. Probably about two hours left before it sets. Seeing the sun, Eddy instinctively—or purely out of habit—reaches into his bag for a bottle of . These windows may be tinted, but they probably don’t block UVA.

  He takes a sip as he imagines little waveform packets of UVA wavelength radiation penetrating through the windows and blasting little holes in his DNA. He sees it in his head like an animated science diagram. He hears Sadie and Minnie singing the “sun danger song” as he swallows. Caught in the sun, you are done! No more ice cream—no more fun!

  He puts the three-quarter-full bottle back in his bag next to another full one. He twists his hand and looks at the blood-bead bracelet he’s wearing. And I’ve got these… He zips up his backpack and sits up, looking out the window again. Maybe the sun is my weakness, but tonight, I’m going to show them my strength.

  Skip grabs a pair of beers from the fridge and heads out the front door to wait for Charlie. There’s a pleasant breeze, and Skip closes his eyes. Soon he hears Charlie pull his car up alongside the fence. Skip brings the beers over to the truck and sets them on the hood. I wonder what he’s giving me.

  Charlie lets himself in through the squeaky gate. “Hey, Skip, good to see you.” He carries a mailing tube under his arm.

  “You too, Charlie. I’ve got a couple beers if you’d like one.”

  “You know I would!”

  “Sure thing. So, what have you got there? Is that for the truck?”

  Charlie nods and takes a beer from Skip. They twist off the caps and -clink- the longnecks together. “I’ve got some extra UV-blocking film and thought you might want it for your windows.”

  Skip raises one eyebrow and adds an angle to his head. “I thought glass blocked UV already.”

  Charlie shakes his head. “It blocks half, UVB. But UVA, the higher-energy wavelengths, they get through.”

  “Interesting.” Skip knows Charlie is sensitive about skin cancer; Charlie had said before that it runs in his family. Skip has never heard of anyone putting UV-blocking film in their cars, although it does seem to make sense as a precautionary step. He wonders why Charlie is offering it to him. Skin cancer doesn’t run in my family—hell, we’re Aniyunwiya… “Does it tint the windows? I mean, does it make them darker?”

  Charlie pops the top off the mailing tube and slides out a roll of shiny plastic film with a white backing paper. “Just barely, and this film is really good. It won’t bubble up or anything weird. You’ll never notice it.”

  Skip feels the edge of the film and takes another sip of beer. “This roll is enough for the whole car?”

  Charlie slides out the film and lets it drop. It’s about eight feet long. “Yes. Well, I mean, your windshield actually blocks all UV; you only need the film for the side and back windows.”

  Skip nods. “Oh, okay. I was a little nervous about changing the visibility through the windshield.”

  “Yeah, no worries. Sorry I didn’t mention that. So, what do you think? Want to put it on?”

  “Suuuurrre. Uh, you put this on your cars?”

  “Yup. You’ve never noticed, have you?”

  “No. Now that you mention it.”

  “See. It’s good stuff.”

  “Well, thanks for thinking of me. Can I ask why you put it on your car windows? It seems like an unusual precaution, even if skin cancer does run in the family.”

  Charlie takes a long haul from his beer bottle. He looks around and swallows. The windows in the house are all closed, except for the one in the bathroom. June doesn’t seem to be around. He studies Skip’s face and looks him dead in the eye. “Because, you know—” Charlie holds a thumb up, pointing back at himself, “—vampire.”

  Skip bursts into laughter. “Dude, there’s no such thing. Also, you don’t go biting people’s necks and drinking their blood. You’re not a vampire.” Skip shakes his head, still chuckling.

  Charlie sighs and walks to the hood of Skip’s pickup. He lays the film down on it.

  Skip, unaware of Charlie’s actual frustration, continues joking. “So, Mr. Undead, creature of the night, what tools do we need to put this on?”

  “I never said anything about being undead. That whole concept is ridiculous.”

  -Muurrrrurrrr- A passing group of zombies chime in on cue.

  Charlie and Skip look at each other, then bust out laughing.

  When Charlie collects himself, he rubs his head with his palm. “Oh my. Umm, right. All we need is the tube it came in, a screwdriver for the door panels, and a razor knife.” He holds up his empty beer bottle. “And more beer.”

  “The toolbox is behind the seat. I’ll grab a six-pack.” Skip turns and heads back to the house.

  When he returns, Charlie is leaning against the truck next to the toolbox, looking at his cell phone. Skip hands Charlie a fresh beer. “So, how’s everybody doing? June says ‘hi’ to everyone, by the way.”

  Charlie puts his phone back in his pocket. “Everyone’s alright. Some stressful things popped up this weekend with the kids, but nothing big.”

  Skip nods. “Kids tend to do that now and then. June seems distracted today. Maybe something to do with Eddy?”

  Charlie shrugs and takes a drink. “Maybe. One of Sadie’s friends was traveling through yesterday and stayed over. Somehow I got into an argument with Eddy last night, and he took off early this morning to hang out with some friends. Other than a
vague text message, I haven’t really heard from him today.”

  Skip can’t help but be curious about Eddy. June and Eddy are close, and over the past few months he’s grown close to him as well. I wonder what the argument was about. Knowing Charlie, he’ll dodge the question and just make up something. Skip snorts. Probably about vampires!

  Charlie glances over at Skip, who now acts like he choked. “You alright?”

  Skip makes an effort to clear his throat. “Yeah…wrong pipe.”

  Charlie makes a big deal of looking at the label on his beer, smiling. “Better watch these…light witbiers? They’re rough!”

  Skip rolls his eyes at his foolish friend. “Shut up, Charlie.”

  Charlie laughs and slaps him on the shoulder.

  It stings.

  Charlie turns and sets his beer down on the hood. “Alright, buddy, let’s get this done. Take the panels off the doors, and I’ll cut the film to size.”

  Skip nods and takes a sip of his beer.

  Upstairs, June pulls open her blinds and sees Charlie and Skip working on the truck. The sight soothes her; it feels normal. Eddy must be fine if Charlie’s here. June closes her blinds and sits down at her desk. She thinks about what Eddy told her about his parents.

  It was on a warm night in the winter, after the zombie outbreak first started. She and Eddy were hanging out in his backyard, the sound of the waterwheel splashing in the background. They were sitting close to each other and talking. Their parents were inside with some other neighbors discussing the situation.

  She leaned her head on Eddy’s shoulder. “I’m kinda scared.”

  Eddy looked at her. “Yeah, me too.”

  He paused, then continued. “There’s one thing I know for sure though, June, and that’s that we’ll be okay.”

  She lifted her head off his shoulder. “How can you know that?”

  He thought for another second, then motioned with his head toward his house. “Because. My parents. They’ll never let you or me get hurt, or your dad.”

  She shook her head. “No, just because they don’t want us to get hurt doesn’t mean that they’ll have any control over preventing it.”