When he looked up at Brooke and Terrence, both of them had frozen. Jon looked beyond them at the sleeping horde. It seemed their wheezes had increased in volume, as if they had heard the commotion, but they didn’t move. They hadn’t woken up.
Brooke offered to help him up, but Jon refused. He didn’t want her to accidentally graze his bite, bringing attention to it. He took a moment to catch his breath, relieved that the mistake he’d made hadn’t result in waking up the zombies. Then, he pushed himself up, putting the majority of his weight on his good arm.
Gesturing toward the kitchen, he headed for it again. They’d already made it over halfway across the cafeteria, and the door was only about fifteen yards away now.
The door was shut when they got there, and Jon worried if it would be locked, even though they’d been lucky with other doors thus far.
Here goes nothing.
He grabbed the handle and pulled.
The door opened.
33
As he had when they’d entered the cafeteria, Jon only opened the door enough for the three of them to walk through it. Once they were all inside, Jon scanned the kitchen to make sure no zombies were present. When he felt confident the place was clear, he then pulled the door shut to ensure no monsters would creep in while they searched the area. They continued to be quiet as they looked around the kitchen.
As with everywhere else in the prison, much had fallen onto the ground. But the kitchen didn’t look like it had been as vandalized as the rest of the place.
“Isn’t the kitchen the first place everyone would have come when things fell apart?” Brooke asked.
“If they could make it here,” Terrence said.
It gave Jon a clearer picture of just how chaotic things had been in the prison. The virus had spread like wildfire, and it didn’t seem like anyone had survived long enough to make it back here.
In front of them were various countertops. Some of them still had knives and other utensils sitting on top. Two mice scurried away from some rotting cabbage on top of one of the counters when they saw the three humans moving through the room. The place would have smelled like shit if they hadn’t become accustomed to the stench of the new world.
“Hey, guys,” Brooke said, pointing her flashlight at the far right side of the room. “Check this out.”
Jon followed the beam of light until his eyes landed on a door. Brooke moved the light to shine on a sign on the wall next to the door which read: Storage.
Jackpot.
The door was slightly ajar. Even with how the rest of the kitchen hadn’t been vandalized, Jon knew there was no way someone hadn’t made it into the storage room. There’d been too many people at the prison for the pantry not to have been raided.
They arrived at the door, and Jon urged the others to be quiet. He listened for zombies on the other side, but heard nothing. Wanting to remain cautious, he poked his head through the crack of the door and shined the light inside. When it looked clear, he pulled the door open, and all three of them illuminated the inside of the room.
“Jackpot,” Terrence said, echoing the word Jon had thought to himself only moments earlier.
The floor was littered with cans, some still sealed and others busted open. More rotted food lay amongst the debris, as well, and they heard mice scurrying away in the dark. There were other things such as napkins and plastic cups scattered around.
But when Jon scanned the shelves, he saw they were well-stocked with cans of food.
They’d found a small goldmine.
And it only got better from there.
Jon saw something different on one of the top shelves and walked over to it. He reached up and pulled down a box, and shined his flashlight onto it.
He held the box of bandages up where Brooke and Terrence could see it, then pulled down a bottle of rubbing alcohol and another bottle containing peroxide. Behind that, he found two tubes of antibiotic ointment and more bandages and gauze.
“They must’ve kept first-aid shit in here in case one of the cooks cut themselves or something,” Terrence said.
It wasn’t a lot, but it was more than they’d had when they’d arrived at the prison.
“Open up your packs and let me hand you this,” Jon said. “We’ll take all of this and then fill the rest up with some food.”
Brooke opened her pack, and Jon handed the first-aid supplies to Terrence, who dropped it all inside.
“I’ll go ahead and start throwing some food in, too,” Brooke said.
“Let’s fill up mine and Terrence’s first.” Jon knew Brooke was strong and could handle herself, but he didn’t want to overload her and make it difficult for her to move. If they got into a tight spot, he’d want her to be able to be nimble rather than be weighed down by her backpack just so she could carry a few extra cans of beans.
They then started loading Jon and Terrence’s packs up with canned food. Black beans, green beans, corn, tomatoes—anything they could grab. Jon wanted to get as much as they could in this first run because he didn’t know how safe it would be to come back. They’d gotten lucky sneaking past the sleeping horde in the cafeteria, but they might not be as fortunate trying to go through another time.
Jon and Terrence loaded their packs to the point where the straps felt like they could tear at the seams. They then tossed a few cans into Brooke’s bag before deciding they’d gotten all they could.
“We can head back to the entrance where we’re supposed to meet everyone,” Brooke said. “Maybe we can make one more run back here before we leave.”
Jon had considered that. But they’d been lucky on the way into the kitchen not to wake up the zombies. They might not be so lucky a second time.
“Come on,” Jon said.
He loaded the pack onto his back, straining a bit as he felt the weight fall onto his shoulders. He still needed to use the flashlight as a guide, but he used the hand on his healthy arm to bear some of the pack’s weight, slipping his fingers under the straps at his shoulder.
Jon led the way, Brooke and Terrence following behind him in a line. Again, he was careful about where he stepped, the pack causing him to move slower as it weighed him down. He’d soon made it halfway across the kitchen.
As he approached the door, he removed his hand from under the strap, allowing the weight to ease onto his shoulder, and reached for the handle.
“Shit,” Terrence said behind him.
Jon paused, startling when he turned around to see Terrence catching himself on one of the kitchen counters. As he fell, he tried to grasp onto anything to keep him on his feet, but that turned out to be worse than just falling. Terrence knocked several pieces of cookware off of the counter.
It was as if time had stopped as Jon watched the metal pots and pans fall toward the ground. He couldn’t do anything—couldn’t even move. All he could do was watch.
The metal hit the tiles, sounding like a disjointed drumline. It bounced off the floor, making more noise.
Jon stared at his friends as the clanks echoed throughout the kitchen. Still, he couldn’t move, and he didn’t have to to know that the worst-case scenario had just come true.
Inside the cafeteria, the zombies snarled in unison.
The horde had woken.
34
The solid door couldn’t drown out the snarls coming from the cafeteria.
The entire horde had awoken and begun to scream.
Within moments, they’d begun banging on the door, trying to get into the kitchen. The door was heavy and had been made to keep inmates out of the kitchen, so Jon knew they shouldn’t have to worry about the zombies breaking it down.
Terrence remained on the ground. He sat up, placing his hands on the back of his head. His mouth wide open, he glanced back and forth between Jon and Brooke.
“Holy shit. I’m so sorry. I—” He moved his hands from the back of his head to cover his eyes, covering his face with his palms.
Brooke looked at Terrence, then over at Jon. S
he knew Jon had a short fuse and that it had taken a lot for him to come to trust the people of Hope’s Dawn. And that had once been true, but Hope’s Dawn had changed him. Jon was also a realist, and knew that blowing up at Terrence would be futile. People fucked up and made mistakes. He slipped the backpack off of his shoulders and moved toward his friends. Terrence looked up, and Jon put his hand on his shoulder.
“It’s okay,” he told the distraught man, speaking calmly.
“It’s not okay,” Terrence said. “It’s my fault.”
“Terrence,” Jon said, looking his friend straight in the eye. “You saved my life outside of the prison. I wouldn’t even be here if you hadn’t scooped me up off the ground after I had that wreck. You got that?”
Terrence hesitated, but then he nodded.
“Good,” Jon said. “Let’s see if we can get out of here. Split up and see if you can find a door or any other way out of this kitchen aside from this door.”
They each went in different directions, searching for an alternate way out. Jon moved a chair next to the exterior wall. Standing on it, he tried to break the bars on the windows, but it was no use. He looked up and saw there’d be no way to escape through the ceiling, either. This was a prison, after all. Everything had been thought of, except apparently that people could get trapped inside the kitchen during a zombie apocalypse.
Brooke and Terrence met Jon back in the center of the kitchen after only a couple of minutes, and they all just stared at each other. There was only one way out of the room.
“Alright,” Brooke said. “The best plan is probably for us to just wait here. If we’re here long enough, Raylon and the others will come looking.”
“Yeah, but then they’re gonna have to face that horde out there just to get to us,” Terrence said.
“We handled most of those creatures outside together,” Brooke said. “We can take care of these, too. We just need to wait on the others.”
“No,” Jon said.
Brooke’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“It wasn’t the same thing when we were outside. We were in the open air. We came in with a plan. We had a way to get out if something bad happened, and we could use explosives. This is a different situation. It’s a closed space. I’m not going to risk anyone dying just to come get us.”
“So, we’re just going to stay here?” Brooke asked.
“No.” Jon drew in a deep breath. “I am.”
Brooke scoffed. “Yeah, you’ve tried that one before. You know that doesn’t work on me.”
“You don’t have a choice this time,” Jon said. “One of us has to be a distraction for those things. This is how it’s going to be.”
Putting her hands on her hips, any humor left in Brooke’s voice disappeared. “You’re not gonna talk to me like this. You know the deal. The three of us are either getting out of this together, or we’re going down together.” She turned her scowl to Terrence. “Back me up here, Terrence. This is bullshit.”
Terrence glanced to the ground, rubbing his forehead. Then he looked up at Jon.
“Show her.”
Brooke turned to Jon. “Show me what?”
“You have to, Jon.”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Brooke asked.
Outside the room, zombies continued clawing on the door. They screamed in unison, fighting to get inside. But over it all, Jon could hear his heart beating against his chest. Sweat collected on his brow. Goosebumps crawled up his arms.
“What’s he talking about, Jon?” The anger had left Brooke’s voice, replaced with a tone of concern.
Jon again glanced at Terrence, who nodded.
Exhaling, Jon unbuttoned his shirt from the top down to the bottom. When all of the buttons were unfastened, he grabbed each side of the shirt, but hesitated before sliding his arms out. He looked into Brooke’s eyes. She’d parted her lips, and she didn’t blink.
“I’m sorry,” Jon muttered.
He pulled off his shirt, revealing the bandage covering his left forearm. It had been a while since he’d checked on it, and the wound had bled, soaking much of the bandage in crimson.
Brooke said nothing as she stared at Jon’s arm. Her mouth was open, and her face had gone slightly pale. She backed up and leaned against the nearest counter.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you,” Jon said. “I wanted to get through this and make it back to Hope’s Dawn. I didn’t want you to be distracted or for anyone else to worry about me.”
Brooke remained silent for a moment before turning to Terrence. “But you knew?”
Terrence lowered his head, unable to keep eye contact with his friend.
“He promised me he wouldn’t tell you,” Jon said. “I wanted him to know in case something happened. If I got bit here, I didn’t want you trying to save me, and he was going to stop you from that. And if I turned while we were here, Terrence was going to...” Jon couldn’t finish the sentence. He moved closer to Brooke. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I hope you understand.”
Brooke’s face remained stoic, but only for another moment. She finally broke down, tears coming out of her eyes as she embraced Jon.
He held her, and Jon also cried. He couldn’t hold back, and didn’t even try.
When she finally pulled away, Brooke wiped her eyes. “So, what are we going to do then?”
Jon scanned the room. He saw the counters and the stovetop, checking their height. Then his eyes fell to the pantry. He walked over to it.
“The two of you are going to go back in here and hide,” Jon said. “I’ll clear the way for you and give you a signal. When I do, you run like hell for the door and shut it behind you.”
“What’re you gonna do?” Terrence asked.
Jon hesitated. He knew they needed to know what his side of the plan would be, but he didn’t want to say it out loud. It had already been hard enough telling Brooke about his bite. But he cleared his throat.
“I’m going to open the door and let them in here.” He pointed to the far corner of the room, opposite the pantry. “I’ll draw them over there and let you know when it’s safe to come out.”
Brooke went pale, her eyes staring off into nothing. Jon could see her searching for the words, but none came. She turned around, unable to face Jon anymore.
“You sure you want to do this?” Terrence asked Jon.
Still fighting back the tears, Jon stared at Brooke’s back for a moment before turning to Terrence. “I’m not going to let anyone else die for me, especially not when I’m already dead.”
Terrence nodded, and then he approached Jon and hugged him.
“Take care of her,” Jon whispered into his friend’s ear. “Don’t let her do anything stupid, and don’t let her talk you guys into coming back for me.”
“I’ll do my best. You know how she is.”
Jon pulled away, keeping his hands on Terrence’s shoulders. “That’s why you’ve gotta promise me you’ll do whatever it takes.”
“You got it. I’ll make sure.”
Terrence then stepped away, briefly glancing over at Brooke before returning to the storage room and giving Jon and Brooke a moment.
Brooke remained with her back to Jon. He approached her, searching for words. What was he supposed to say? He’d never been in a situation anywhere remotely close to this. There was no script, no template. These final moments of living were going to be more challenging than dying, looking into the eyes of this woman he had grown to love in such a short period.
“I’m... I...”
Brooke turned around, wrapping her arms around Jon’s waist and burying her head into his chest before he finished finding the words that would never have come anyway. He wrapped his arms around her, running his left one over her back and using his right to stroke her hair.
For the moment, Jon forgot about everything else. He ignored the snarls of the horde from the other room. He forgot that he was in the kitchen of a prison and that Terrence was on the o
ther side of the room. The only thing he allowed himself to focus on was that Brooke was there in his arms.
She pulled away, and they locked eyes. Jon’s heart raced.
“Brooke,” he said, beginning to search for words again. “I—”
She leaned in and kissed him, occupying his lips and shutting him up. She cupped his cheeks and kissed him hard. Tears dripping down her cheek touched his, moving onto his face.
The sudden move threw Jon off, and he looked back at her. Brooke had her eyes closed, and she moved her hands up his cheeks and through his hair. Then, she slid her tongue into his mouth, and that was when Jon let go.
He brought his hands up to her face, touching her skin, which she’d managed to keep soft despite the horrors of the world. Then he moved his hands to her lower back and pulled her closer to him.
Jon wished this moment could last forever. He’d never thought that he would be able to kiss another woman again. But he didn’t even let that thought come to him now.
When it was finally over, their foreheads met, and each opened their eyes. Their breaths moved together in rhythm. Hard breaths that came shallow and quick. Both of them cried now, and still, Jon could find no words. But he didn’t have to.
“I love you,” Brooke muttered.
The words hit him like a ton of bricks. They pierced his heart, which could have stopped at that moment, and he would have died happily other than for knowing he wouldn’t be able to do one last thing for this woman, who’d come to mean so much to him in such a short amount of time.
But he couldn’t say the words back.
Jon placed his hand on the side of her neck and kissed her one last time, letting his hand ride up to the back of her head.
“Take care of your son,” he said. “You’re an unbelievable mom, despite how you might feel. Never forget that.”
His hand came down to her chest, and Brooke placed hers over it. More tears came from her eyes, and she started to say something else, but Jon couldn’t let her. He pulled his hand away and stepped around her to go to the door.
“It’s time,” he said, staring at the door and not looking back. He knew if he looked back that it would only be harder for her to go.
Dead South | Book 2 | Dead Lies Page 13
