As far as Sonya could remember, guys had always told her she was gorgeous or beautiful or sexy and blah, blah, blah. Those compliments got old quick. It was all superficial bullshit. No guy but Kyle really knew her, knew who she was as an individual. Apparently, Lawrence knew her, too. “It’s nice you remember that,” she said blandly, as to not give away the gratefulness she felt toward him. “Sometimes I don’t think about what I do. I just know it has to be done.”
“I envy your way of thinking. I dropped out of college—well, community college—became a janitor, and stayed a janitor, because I was afraid to go any further, afraid I’d fail. My dad, my mom, and my two older brothers, as self-centered as they all were, always seemed to win at everything. They used to think I was a joke. They thought of me as meek and useless. I sucked at sports, never won awards at school, and…”
“And so, you stopped taking anything seriously and just laughed about everything, and laughed at yourself.”
“Don’t pick on me, please.” Lawrence wrapped the quilted blanket over himself tighter and slouched deeper into the armchair.
“No, I’m not picking on you, Lawrence. The times I’ve failed, I wasn’t able to laugh at myself after.” Sonya had always feared humiliation, and sure, others could easily laugh off embarrassing moments or recover from a wounded ego, but to her it was damaging. She was envious of Lawrence in a way. True, Lawrence hadn’t achieved many goals or succeeded much in anything, but happiness followed him nonetheless. He was naturally charismatic and amusing, people used to gravitate toward him. He was often the life of a party, and when he told some random, bizarre stories of his experiences, people listened attentively and laughed with him. People loved him simply because he was Lawrence, and he never had to work hard for that. “I can never be like you. When everything goes wrong, you’re the type to say ‘It’s not the end of the world,’ and people listen to you. Kyle once said it and Ally’s said it before.”
“Said what?”
“Well, it’s my turn to say something nice about you.” Sonya thought for a moment, what to say, what Lawrence deserved to hear, and then decided not to hold back. “We’d be dead by now if it weren’t for you, Lawrence. Being stuck in this house isn’t exactly living, but we’re alive, and I suppose that’s good enough. You planned ahead. When this disease hit New York and Florida, I thought nothing of it. I thought New York and Florida are so far away, and that we’d be safe on this side of the country. I thought the government would figure something out and that the military would evacuate people to safe places, bunkers or military bases—whatever they do at times like this. I was naïve, thinking this would all blow over like SARS or Ebola or that bird virus, you know, all those illnesses you’d hear about in the news. You knew this was something different.”
“Like I said, I’m not a risk taker. That’s why I made plans. Plus, I could be intensely paranoid sometimes.”
“You’re smart, Lawrence. You have a natural ability to calculate possibilities. I remember back in middle school, for two weeks, about a fourth of the students at school were getting sick. I remember my home economics class only had eleven out of thirty-five students show up. The rest were absent. You told Kyle, Tristan, Jessica, and me that it was probably the peanut butter cookies in the cafeteria, and warned us not to eat them. Then, sure enough, one week later, there was a newspaper article on tampered peanut butter.”
“Oh yeah,” Lawrence chuckled. “I remember that. I didn’t tell anybody but you guys, because I thought it was funny that people were getting diarrhea.”
Sonya covered her mouth and giggled. “I don’t think anyone else knew it was the cookies.”
“I wonder what happened to Jessica.”
“I could only hope she’s all right.” Sonya thought of her old friend, who had moved out to San Diego after high school. She had lost touch with Jessica since then. “You remember how flabby and dumpy Jessica was in sixth grade?”
“Yeah. She was hideous.”
“You were always nice to her, though, so sweet toward her when no other boy was. She became smoking hot in junior year, didn’t she?”
Lawrence grinned and sighed with self-satisfaction. “Yup.”
“And you knew that, didn’t you? You knew she was an ugly duckling type.”
He shrugged. “Why else would I be nice to her? Under all the oversized clothes she wore in middle school, I knew she was developing a hot fucking body. Seriously though, she had such a hot fucking body. I miss her so much. I wish her body was here right now.”
“Wasn’t she the one you lost it to?” Sonya looked at Lawrence with a raised brow.
“Who told you that? Kyle? Tristan?”
“I overheard you telling Kyle that you banged the shit out of her.” Sonya cackled. “You also told Kyle, ‘I just Lawrenced her, man, Jessica just fucking got Lawrenced.’ That was the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” She pressed her hand to her mouth as she giggled. Seconds later, she exploded into laughter.
Lawrence laughed. “Yeah, that chick totally got Lawrenced.”
“Hey, guys.” Charlene stood at the doorway of the master bedroom. “What are you two giggle-gaggling about over here?”
“Get lost, Charlene,” said Lawrence.
“Tell me where the batteries are.”
“Is it for your vibrator?”
“You wish, Lawrence, you dirty asshole.” Charlene then muttered quietly, “I kinda wish, too.” She lifted her hand to show Lawrence and Sonya the object she held. “I need batteries for this…portable CD player or CD-Walkman—whatever the hell this dinosaur device is called.”
“Batteries are in the storage room,” Lawrence replied, annoyed.
“Where in the storage room? I don’t want a bunch of boxes to fall on me and shit.”
“Try the table drawers near the bed, Char,” said Sonya.
“Okay, cool, I’ll leave you two to lovey-dove-dovey in here.” Charlene turned around and made her way down the hall.
After Charlene left, Sonya and Lawrence refocused their attention back to one another.
“Are you coming with us when we go to Valley Market?” Lawrence asked.
“Wait,” said Sonya, “who’s us?”
“So far, Tristan’s volunteered, and I wanna go out there, too. I’d feel safer if you went, honestly.”
“Count me in,” she immediately replied, without any doubts. She longed to get out of the house. “When are we gonna do this?”
“I was thinking that we—”
“Aaaaaaaaaaggghhhhh!”
The piercing shriek came from out in the hallway.
Sonya shot up from the armchair. “That’s Charlene. Lawrence, come on!” She ran out the bedroom and into the hall. She heard Lawrence treading fast behind her.
Sonya saw the storage room door open, and as she approached, she felt the sharpness of a cold breeze. She heard a clamor of the guttural ramblings and grisly moans in various volumes, some deep and some shrill. They were moans of the undead, more desperate and frustrated than usual. When Sonya entered the room, the window was wide open. Charlene stood a few feet from it, with her back against a stack of boxes. She had her eyes shut tight and a hand covering her mouth.
“What the hell’s going on?” Lawrence said when he entered.
“Out there,” Charlene said and started to wail.
Sonya moved slowly toward the opened window, noticing a rope tied at the leg beneath the bed’s foot. The rope, a tightened line, led to the outside. When she looked out, she saw that the dead things, over twenty of them, had gathered at the side of the house. They crowded each other, collided with each other, and clumsily knocked each other around. Their hands raised high, swooping in clawing motions, and reaching toward a single direction. It was a like an audience at a concert, frantically wishing to touch the famed performer on stage. Sonya looked downward to see what they were after. She saw the top of a head, brown hair matted and soaked from rain. The rope, which led from the bed leg, was ar
ound the neck of the motionless body, tied in a noose. Therese had hung herself, and the dead wanted her flesh.
6
Happy Thanksgiving, I Guess
Lawrence
Lawrence viewed that curvaceous figure dangling from the rope, and thought, what a waste. He also wondered, why do I have a semi-boner right now?
I am fucking desensitized.
She must’ve been a C-cup, maybe even close to a D—Lawrence, knock that shit off! This is the wrong time to be horny right now.
Lawrence could hear his housemates racing down the hall and calling for Charlene. Tristan was first to enter the storage room, Kasey and Miles followed up behind. On instinct, the three crossed their arms, tucked hands beneath armpits to warm themselves from the draft.
“Charlene,” said Kasey, “are you okay, girl?”
Charlene shook her head and lurched around in her steps. She cupped her hands over her mouth as a wet burbling noise rolled in her throat. She pushed Lawrence aside. She stepped to the window and stuck her head out. Yellow and pink chunks blew out of her.
Lawrence, staring outside, watched the vomit splatter over Therese’s head and shoulder.
Charlene, still tilted outward, grabbed her strands of hair and brought it behind her neck. Another stream of chunks jetted out of her mouth.
Lawrence took pity on Therese’s corpse when throw-up hit a second time.
Charlene brought her head inside. “No, I’m not okay.” She whimpered. She turned around and fell into Sonya’s arms.
Sonya held her. “Are you…done throwing up?” she muttered, while possibly thinking, don’t puke on me, bitch.
Lawrence back stepped over the rope linking Therese and the bed’s leg to make room for the housemates coming over to the window.
Kasey caught glimpse. “Oh, Lord.” She turned and covered her nose and mouth with her hands. She walked passed Tristan and Miles as they approached.
Miles winced and shuddered after looking out. “Oh, bastard son of Christ.” He backed away from the window. “Helena, France,” he called to his wife and child standing out in the hallway, “you don’t wanna see this.”
Helena stepped into the room. “Therese is…”
“Dead. She’s dead—hung herself.”
Helena gasped and released a moan that sounded like a soft scream. “Goodness, oh goodness, no.” She left the room, taking France by the shoulder and leading her out with her.
Tristan looked out the window. He swallowed hard and glanced at Lawrence. “Jesus, what a waste, huh?”
Yeah, thought Lawrence, a waste of a pretty face and a hot, gorgeous body. I am totally fucking desensitized. Holy shit. He wondered if all the horror he’d witnessed the past months had made him this way. “Okay, everyone,” he made a shooing motion with his hands, “let’s all clear out now.” His suggestion and motioning was unnecessary. Everyone already started toward the door in anguished silence.
Lawrence was the last to leave the storage room. He shut the door behind him and looked around at everyone standing in the hall. Everyone was present, save for Therese’s stepdaughter. Ally stood with her back against the wall, breathing heavily, her chest rising and shrinking, as though close to having a panic attack. She didn’t have to take a peek outside to know what happened.
“Where’s Joni?” Ally asked everyone. She then called out, “Joni!”
The door to Lawrence’s old bedroom opened, the room Therese and Joni had shared. Joni walked out to the hall, slowly and stiffly, as though trying to keep balance. One hand was behind her back. She bore no expression. The poor girl must also be desensitized by now, Lawrence thought. The sight of Joni reawakened misery in him. Suddenly, his knees felt week and shaky. The poor girl, Lawrence wanted to break down and cry for the girl. He had taken her father away from her, and the death of her father must’ve led to Therese’s suicide. It’s not my fault, he told himself. I had to do it. It’s not my fault.
As Joni walked toward everyone, she lifted the hand that was at her back. She had the gun. It was aimed, but pointed slightly downward, as if too heavy for her little fingers.
Everyone either gasped or yelped.
“Joni,” said Ally, alarmed. “What are you doing with that?” She spoke with nervous anger. “Put it down.”
Lawrenced loosened with relief, seeing that Joni’s finger wasn’t on the trigger. He stepped forward and reached over to Joni.
Joni handed Lawrence the pistol. “She’s dead, isn’t she?” Joni asked no one in particular. “I hid the gun, because I thought she would use it on herself. That’s what she tried to do after Caitlyn…” She cried. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks. Ally knelt down and held her.
“Where did she get this rope?” Lawrence asked, standing close to the opened window again, sprinkles of rain touching his skin. Tristan, Kasey, and Sonya sat around the room on different objects, Kasey a box, Sonya a large rolled up sleeping bag, and Tristan atop a laundry basket filled with towels.
During the late afternoon, the four had returned to the storage room, compelled to figure out when and why Therese took her own life. It compelled Lawrence, anyway, as he still felt indirectly at fault. He felt he should’ve been monitoring her, looking out for her, as she was, in a way, under his care. The motive as to why may or may not have been obvious. Therese could’ve given up after Richard’s death, or perhaps she couldn’t handle the stress of the world’s drastic transition. Whatever the cause, the woman was selfish to leave Joni.
“I don’t remember having rope in this house,” Tristan said. “She must’ve had it in her pack.”
“I didn’t see this coming,” said Kasey. “Did any of you?”
“If we did, we would’ve been watching her,” said Lawrence. “She seemed to have gotten over me blasting her husband’s brains out.” He caught himself sounding too nonchalant, as though blasting brains out was something he did every day. “She only seemed. Maybe she was clinically depressed and off her meds. But, Joni knew about this, and didn’t warn us.”
“Joni probably didn’t wanna stir up trouble,” said Sonya. “She probably didn’t trust any of us, didn’t want us to worry, so she hid the gun.”
“Well, it’s a good thing she did. Otherwise, we’d be one bullet short and scrubbing up brain residue from the walls.”
“How about a little respect for the dead, Lawrence?”
Lawrence, suddenly irritable, mussed up his hair as he scratched his head, and now the cold winds outside bothered him, giving him goosebumps and stinging his nipples. He attempted to slide the window shut, but forgot that the rope was in the way. He let go of the window and said, “Never mind.” He turned around and faced Sonya. “Why should I respect this dead woman? Huh? For one thing, she is dead, and she doesn’t know what the hell I’m saying. She chose a coward’s end, leaving her daughter behind—abandoning her daughter. Therese turned out to be a selfish cunt, a weakling. She didn’t leave a suicide note, an apology note, or any kind of note for Joni. Now the kid suffers, lost her whole family. So…No, Sonya, I have no respect or sympathy for this dead chick, because she didn’t have any respect for the living.”
Everyone in the room stared at him. None had anything to say. The silence made Lawrence feel sheepish. He didn’t mean to sound cold, nor did he mean for his response to become a tirade.
“Forgive me, guys,” said Lawrence, “just venting a little. I…Maybe I’m losing it, too—I don’t know. I think we should make the move now—well not now—but tomorrow. I think we’re ready to get out. If we succeed, it could boost the morale in this house.”
Sonya, Kasey, and Tristan were set to comment, when the bedroom door opened.
In walked Ally, who closed the door behind her.
Lawrence saw Tristan glance over to her and immediately look away to hide his face. Ally made a similar reaction, glanced at Tristan, made a grim expression, and pretended he wasn’t there.
Lawrence, Kasey, and Sonya glanced at each other, and Lawrence knew the
two women also felt the awkwardness. Yup, elephant in the room and giraffe outside the window, referring to the grotesqueness of Therese’s stretched out neck. What sick humor that was. Yup, I’m losing it.
Desensitized.
“How is she?” Kasey asked Ally.
“She’s asleep now,” said Ally, coming over to the box next to Kasey. She sat down. “We’ll have a new roommate downstairs. Charlene’s letting her have the top bunk.” Her eyes roamed to everyone, except for Tristan, again she pretended he wasn’t there. “I heard what you were saying about tomorrow, Lawrence. I’m going.” She sounded insistent.
“Are you sure about that?” Lawrence replied.
“I’m not afraid. I have a reason to go.”
Lawrence knew Ally’s motivation was Joni. Everyone in the house saw that she’d grown close to the little girl, and how much Joni clung to Ally. “Joni wouldn’t want you to go. She’d be afraid to lose you, too.”
“She won’t lose me.” Her mouth quivered, her eyes reddened. “I have a reason to go. I won’t be afraid. Who said you could make all the decisions, Lawrence? And what right do you have to stop me from going?”
“Wait…” said Lawrence. What’s with the sudden bitchiness? “Ally, I wasn’t trying to make the decisions. I’m not trying to stop you from going. I was just thinking how troubling it’d be for Joni. I know she’ll worry about you.”
“I’m sorry, Lawrence.”
“No, it’s okay. I mean, this is your house, and you have the right to go if you want. So, you’re with us tomorrow then?”
Ally nodded. “Who else is going?”
Flesh Ravenous (Book 1) Page 7
