by P. J. Post
I wipe my face.
I’m sweating despite the cold.
What if I’m wrong?
I take another drag off my smoke, and hold out my left hand as I press on the wound again.
My hand is shaking like Casey’s was, pretty fucking leafy.
“Are you okay?” Sam asks.
“I don’t know. Yeah, no.”
She frowns, the circles under her eyes deepening.
“Holly, Holly, wake up,” I say and try to get her to sit up.
She’s still out of it, but her eyes open, glassy and unfocused. She looks at me, but I’m not sure she’s seeing me.
I raise the cup and Sam almost stops me, but takes a deep breath instead.
“Drink this, Holly, it’s medicine.”
I lift the mug to her injured lips, and she cries out, whimpering in pain as she sips at it.
“Tastes funny,” she moans.
“All of it,” I encourage and tilt the mug up.
She gulps the rest down and licks her lips, gasping as her tongue brushes the still bleeding wounds on her lip. And then her shoulder moves, and I get it, she’s trying to touch her face, wipe off her mouth or whatever with her missing hand.
Fuck.
I do it for her, gently swabbing her mouth with the end of the towel wrapped around my arm. “Yeah, let’s lay back down, I’m right here, Holly Hawk. I’m right here.”
I pull a blanket from my backpack and throw it over her as she passes out again.
“Explain,” Sam says flatly as she crosses her arms. “Because that’s fucked up.”
“I have to wait this out for a bit, and then I have to find Jem.”
Sam looks down at Hawk and nods. “Wait, who’s Jem?”
“Have you talked to Paco, or Tammy, Tristan, Dante?”
“We met up with them a couple of days ago. But what…”
“Did they tell you what happened at the tree, where Jess took us?”
“They said you were attacked, got separated.”
“What about Jackie, and Jess?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I thought you were dead, okay?” Tears begin spilling down her cheeks as she looks away. “We’ve been pretty busy, so cut the crap, who’s Jem? What’s going on?”
“She’s Jackie’s sister. She was with me when we were attacked, got separated. She’s, fuck, she’s my responsibility now.”
“And?”
“And, she’s about Emily’s age, just a little kid, I have to find her.”
Sam nods. “I get that, I do, and we will, but…” She points to Hawk.
I focus on my cigarette while she watches me, waiting.
I watch her right back.
She’s got on a heavy dark coat, some thick fabric, it hangs nearly to her knees; it’s as bloody and filthy as the rest of us. She’s still wearing those same high-top basketball sneakers, but she’s got new sweatshirts. The black ninja goggles are pushed up over her black beanie.
Her scarf is striped, gray and red.
She looks as beaten as anyone I’ve seen lately.
“Are you okay, Sam?” I ask.
She starts to say something and then stops, and nods. “I’m fine, all things considered. I got…you came back to me, and, and Emily too.” Her voice thickens.
“I missed you so much; you know I love you, right.” It feels so good to say it. “I feel like I’m dreaming again.”
“I love you too, if you’re dreaming, we both are, but this is…this is messed up, but so is having a little kid out there by herself, can’t someone else watch Holly, that’s her name, right?”
“Yeah, Holly. Actually, it’s Holly Hawk, like the flower, and the bird, another long story, but no…I got bit, right, so I might be carrying the black-eye virus or plague or whatever the fuck it is. Like I said, I’m either going to save her or turn her, and that means, if she doesn’t get better…I’ll have to kill her. I can’t ask anyone else to do that. Besides, I promised.”
“You and your promises.” She steps back to Hawk and wipes the sweat from her brow. “She’s hot.”
“Yeah, that happens.”
“So we wait?” she asks, still confused.
“Yeah, we wait. A few more minutes should do it. It usually takes…”
“About five?”
“Yeah, about that.”
“So that’s why you won’t kiss me?” she asks.
“I’m afraid to, what if I’m contagious, you know?”
“Yeah, that sucks too.” She winks at me and smiles, but it’s a sad smile. “What if she makes it, though? Does that mean you’re not contagious?”
I shrug. “I have no idea…because the puppy...”
“What puppy?” Sam asks, grinning in spite of everything. “This just keeps on going, huh?”
“Yeah,” I laugh thinking how ridiculous this all sounds. “A wolf puppy, her name is Pixie, Jem named him…”
Sam holds up her hand. “You know what — since we have a few minutes, back up and start with the vampire act.”
“Okay, I think I’ve figured out the Button Eyes.”
“Button Eyes? That’s what you call them? What’s wrong with zombie?”
“Nothing I guess, but zombies are the undead, right, like the movies? These things aren’t dead.”
“How do you know?”
“I checked for a pulse while one of them turned.”
She just scowls at me and shakes her head. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, yeah, did Cam tell you about the motorcycle guy he killed back on that highway, the day I left?”
She nods, her mood shifting again as she stares out the windows to the falling snow.
“Emily said he didn’t make it...” I begin.
She shrugs, and looks more tired than ever. “I can’t say for sure, I haven’t seen him since...”
“Is that…I mean, how you and Emily got split up…”
“Not now, okay. Don’t let the ax fool you, I’m barely holding it together here.” Tears run down her cheeks as she tilts her head, trying to force a smile, but she just can’t.
I nod and drop my cigarette, and then grind it out.
We’re all running out of steam.
I lean back against the door, watching the glow of the streetlights stream into the room. It reminds me of a church. “The motorcycle guy, he had a canister of shit he was breathing; it was marked with a biohazard symbol and military serial numbers. I found the same thing, well, something similar on Pixie’s tags.”
I pull off my layers of shirts.
Sam steps close and traces the long knife wound down my side and the bullet grazes.
“They’re completely healed,” she says.
“I got this knife wound a few days ago, it’s healed too, and then there’s the bite, not only is it healed, but I’m not a zombie or whatever.”
She looks over to the bloody cup and then back, shaking her head in confusion. “I don’t get it.”
“When I got stabbed, that night, Pixie got shot, maybe even saved my life. I carried her with me. I figured I was dead, right? I mean between getting stabbed, infection, whatever that creepy fuck had running through him, it was only a matter of time. But I couldn’t leave a poor little puppy to die in the cold and rain all alone. That’s fucked up.”
“Still rescuing feral kittens, huh?” Sam smiles, the emotion finally cutting through her tears.
I look out toward the hallway. “Is it that obvious?”
“Nope, total secret. Your rep’s safe. But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
I love her smile. “So, Pixie slept over the wound, the one in my shoulder, before the bite.”
“The whole sequence of events, order’s important, I get it.”
“Smartass. Anyway, she was a mess, bled everywhere, including into me. I woke up nearly healed, Pixie was completely healed. Freaked me the fuck out, but it beats the shit out of the alternative, I’ve come to the conclusion that dying kind of sucks?”
I wink.
She smiles. “I know, right?”
“Yeah, yeah…whatever…” I glance back to Hawk. “It’s in her blood.”
“What is?”
“I have no idea, not really, but, if I was guessing, I think Pixie and the zombies come from the same weapons technology. We’d heard about the gas before, rumors and shit, remember? I think that causes the infected to go nuts, killing their neighbors and spreading the virus or whatever.”
“It creates chaos and confusion, like in the enemy army?”
“Yeah, towns, countries, whatever.”
“And that’s the zombies, or Button Eyes?” she asks.
“I think so.”
“And Pixie?”
“I think she was a test subject, like for a battlefield drug for our troops, she has something that promotes super healing. Some things, like organs, grow back, or are somehow repaired, I’ve seen it happen. The scars remain, it’s not like it never happened, and I don’t know how long it lasts, but it’s like fucking magic.”
“Okay, let’s pretend that’s even remotely possible, how are the two connected, the plague and the healing?”
“They both keep the host from dying. It’s not immortality exactly, I don’t think, but sickness, illness, injuries that don’t kill you outright, like beheading or some shit like that — you heal, or they…it…heals you. The weapon version has the additional side-effect of driving people fucking nuts, batshit crazy zombies that don’t die either,” I say.
“How can that be? I mean, any of it?”
“Military research, creepy shit. I’m guessing nano-bots.”
“I thought that was science fiction.”
“Maybe not. Shit, I don’t know.” I rub my head with both hands.
“Even if they were real, wouldn’t the EMPs have killed them?”
“I have no idea. But if it is nano-bots, or something like that, then once they’re in you, I think they act like a virus, multiplying in the blood, infecting everything, so if you transfer your blood to someone else…”
“They infect them too, they get the same power?”
I laugh.
“What?” she asks.
“Power? You saying I’m a superhero?”
I’m beyond exhausted, giddy.
“You’ve always been my hero,” she says over twinkling eyes and blushing cheeks.
“I’ll take it, even if you’re always the one saving me.”
She takes my hand and I don’t have the strength to pull away.
I sigh and squeeze back. “Yeah, so, if Hawk lives, maybe we can work something out so I can finally kiss you again. If not, I mean…if she turns…after I kill her, then I don’t know…”
“We can’t tell anyone. If this is true, it’s a miracle,” she says.
“I’m not so sure about the miracle thing, but, yeah, we can’t tell anyone. If it works I’d like to,” I stop and laugh, and then get serious. “I’d like to infect you and Emily.”
She grins. “That’s working something out?”
Christ, I’ve missed her so much. “Let’s see what happens with Hawk.”
“And your eyes?” she asks.
“Same thing.” I rub my head. “I forgot about them.”
“I didn’t. I noticed them out front when you first looked at me, but I thought…I don’t know what I thought.”
“Welcome to the end of the world, it’s full of surprises and sideshow fuckery.” I wiggle my fingers at her. “It’s a goddamned circus.”
She wraps her fingers around my other hand too, and leans close. “I miss your old ones, this is going to take some getting used to, you, with blue eyes?”
“I’m going to have white hair too.”
“How do you know that?” she asks in surprise.
“Jem, her hair turned white. She’s infected too, I…”
“You what?”
“I didn’t anything…she’s alive, she hasn’t been bitten. She’s tough.”
“You said she’s about Emily’s age?”
“Yeah, seven, nearly eight, but I’m thinking the virus, or whatever, does something extra in kids — she’s way sharper, no, but yeah, more mature or something, more than she should be — and it came on after. Then again, maybe she’s just wicked smart.”
“I’m sorry, I know how rough this must be, waiting, knowing she’s out there.”
“No one said the end of the world was going to be easy. I’m trying not to think about it. Like I said, she’s pretty tough.”
“Um, I can’t get infected from a hug, can I?” she asks.
She pushes my hands down, and collapses against my chest for a moment before releasing my hands, and then it’s my turn to wrap my arms around her, holding her as tight as I dare, afraid she’ll slip away into the mist again. She’s a universe of second chances.
“I missed you so much, I thought, I thought…after Paco, I thought…” she says.
“I know, I’m sorry, but I’m okay, I’m here…I’m here…”
“For now, it’s always just for now.”
“I’m never going to leave you again, never.”
And I mean it.
Wherever I go, she’s coming too.
I can feel her fingers digging into my arms, into my flesh; I bet she’s going to leave bruises — it feels wonderful.
“How long before we know if it’s working?” she asks, nodding back to Hawk.
“Not sure, soon?”
“How long is that, I mean do we even that much time?”
“From the Button Eyes?”
She pulls away. “Reminds me of Teddy. Yeah, them.”
“Freemont is already overrun; we’re going to have to figure out a way to get to the river from the roofs. That’s our only chance. This building doesn’t have windows on the first floor, at least none that I saw.”
“So we should be safe for a few days, if we’re quiet?” she asks.
“Probably, shit, maybe, who fucking knows? How did you get here, anyway?”
“You mean how did I save your butt again?” She smirks.
“It’s your job as I recall.”
“I was in the truck with Paco and Tammy. I saw you, made them park under a second-floor window and broke in. Brenda and Keats came with. I ran through the building as fast as I could.”
“Hawk owes you her life,” I say.
“We all owe each other our lives so many times over; it’s all a jumble now.”
“Thanks just the same.”
“You know, I do miss your old eyes, but the new ones, they’re pretty too,” she says.
“Thanks,” I say, and fuck me if I can’t feel myself blushing.
“What now?” she asks, grinning.
“I have to find Jem. We have to find Jem.”
“But what about Hawk?”
I walk over, light my Zippo and hold it close as I open one of her eyes.
I’m still not sure what color eyes she was born with, but I doubt they were this shade of blue.
“See, around the iris,” I say,
Sam nods and leans close to inspect the wounds on Hawk’s face.
“Is this it?” she asks, pointing to the scabbing ends on the gashes.
Normally, her face would need a shitload of stitches. We’ll see.
“Yeah, check her arm,” I say and lift the stump.
It’s still black from the burns, but the blood has stopped oozing. Around the edges of the amputation, the skin is clean, unblemished, growing in a spiral pattern, like a camera shutter.
Sam studies the horror that’s left of Hawk’s arm, and then looks up grinning. “Look, the skin isn’t dirty, it’s healing, there’s close to a quarter inch of new growth. That’s crazy fast.”
“Whatever it is should protect against infection too,” I say.
“Will it grow her arm back?”
I shake my head.
“Do you think she’s going to turn?” she asks.
“No, I think she’s going to make it,
just have to wait it out to be sure.”
“How long before you’re sure?”
“Later tonight, maybe.”
“If I turn, will you put me down?” she asks.
“Sam, why would…”
“Just answer the question.”
“Of course, but I don’t understand…”
“Good, because I can’t wait that long,” she says fiercely.
Her hands wrap around the back of my head, and her lips find mine, hungry, and impulsive. I had no idea how lost I was without her. She’s so warm, so soft, so…Christ, she tastes so good.
I pull her to me, trying to soothe months of pain with a single kiss.
Her hand slides down my bare back, electric fingertips, and even as I feel myself falling deeper into her embrace, she pulls back, and stares at me — serious as fuck.
And then she softens.
The glint in her eye is back, and even though I know it won’t last, for a moment, she’s happy again. And that’s what always saves me — saving her.
I take her hand in mine.
“Time to go to work?’ she asks.
I nod and kiss the back of her hand before putting my shirts and coat on again.
“Casey!” I shout.
The door flies open and Casey rushes inside, her eyes worried and hard, ready for whatever I’ve got.
“Stay with Hawk, she’s going to be okay,” I say.
Casey smiles grimly, and takes Hawk’s good hand as Shinji joins her, gently stroking her short hair.
He refuses to look at me, which is just as well. I’m not sure how reliable he is anymore.
The other kids come in and circle Holly too.
Their faces tell the story of what they’ve been through, but the cipher’s a secret.
“Keats,” Sam says to her remaining friend, “stay with the kids. Keep an eye the girl. I think we got it, but if she turns…”
“I’m on it, don’t worry, Sam,” he says.
Keats is tall, black and looks like a retired football player. He’s got a Patriots beanie pulled tight over his head, and he’s wearing lightly tinted safety glasses.
He’s got a graying scruffy beard, hasn’t shaved in a long time, and he’s old, probably pushing sixty.
We stare at each other for the briefest of moments.
When the shit comes, I guess it doesn’t really matter how old you are, he’s just as ruined as I am, but I grin just the same, because — fuck it.
