Angered Seasons: Volume Two (Zombies, Aliens, and Meat-Eating Vegetarians?)

by Chester, Mireille

  “So, what? Everyone knew except for me?”

  “Pretty much. I mean, Lane didn’t tell us willingly. We had to get it out of him and let me tell you, that man can drink a lot of beer before he starts to spill his guts. But, you know what? He never did get drunk enough to let me have a beer that night.” He smiled. “Always duty first with him.”

  “When was this?”

  “A couple of years ago. Of course, you could have told him you loved him on your birthday, you know.”

  I frowned. “What? Why?”

  “Because, now, Jason wins the bet.”

  I burst out laughing. “You guys had bets on when we’d finally tell each other?”

  “Of course! Every year, I bet on your birthday.”

  “Every year? How long has this been going on?”

  “I got in on it first year I started with you. Jason said he’s been doing it since he started.” He laughed at my shock.

  “So what day did Jason bet on this year?”

  “Same day he bets on every year. He puts his money down and says you’ll get together when the world comes to an end.”

  The two of us looked up from our laughter as Lane walked into the room.

  “What’s up?”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Maxy, here, was just telling me how the crew got you drunk so you’d spill about being in love with me.” I blushed as I said the words, loving how they warmed me on the inside.

  Lane glared at Max.

  “What? You already told her. It’s not like I’m ruining a big surprise.”

  I grinned. “I can’t believe you told the kids.”

  “Christ, I had to tell somebody.”

  Max sat and tried to breathe through his laughter. “Man, you should have just told her!”

  Lane shook his head and smirked. “Alright, Dr. Phil. Are we done here? The smell is starting to get to me.”

  Max nodded and hiked his duffle bag onto his shoulder. “Wait.” He blinked and silver eyes met mine. “Lizzy!”

  He ran past us and we followed. Max pulled her away from the door and put himself between her and whatever was coming.

  “Hey!” Lane called out to the man standing directly across the street from us, his eyes closed. The wind blew through his shoulder length grey hair and ruffled his beard. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his ripped jeans. I tried to see if he was hurt, but I couldn’t see any blood near the rips. My gaze ran over his very fit abdomen and chest and I had a moment inappropriate thought that this man was in great shape and looked really sexy for his age. How old was he, anyway. Sixty-five, seventy? It was hard to tell, but I was sure he might have some mental issues since he was walking around without a coat. He shifted so that he was on one leg, using his other foot to scratch at his calf.

  I frowned. “He’s barefoot.”

  The man opened his eyes and all of us gasped, my heart jumping into my throat at the sight of the silver gaze.

  “Holy fuck.” Maxy’s cuss was just a whisper. The man nodded and vanished.

  “Holy shit!” Lane stepped out farther onto the deck to get a look up and down the street. “He was there, right? I’m not freaking out for nothing?”

  I took a few deep breaths to calm my heart. “I saw him. I think.”

  Lizzy was staring up at Max, fear clear on her features. “Can you do that?”

  He frowned. “Of course, I can’t do that! Shit, Lizzy! I’m me!” He reached for her shoulder then stopped, letting his hand fall to his side as she stepped away from him.

  “Is he gone? Like, really gone?” I looked up at Max’s now green eyes. “Ok, let’s finish this run and get back to the shop.” I gave him a squeeze on the arm and herded him out the door.

  The drive to Max and Lizzy’s apartment was strained. The urge to ask Max questions about the other man was overwhelming, but I could tell that Lizzy’s reaction to him after the fact had crushed him. I decided to wait until she wasn’t around to see if he’d recognized the man or felt anything different than when he met up with the Yellow Eyes. I watched as Lane glanced back at the pair through the rear view mirror. His gaze slipped sideways and I smiled and reached for his hand.

  “Um, Max?” Lizzy stared at the ground as he unlocked the building’s outer door.

  “Hmm?”

  “Maybe we should never mind our place. I mean, with the hallways and all the doors, it can’t be safe, right?”

  “We’ll be fine. We have the guns and I’m the freak who can tell when they’re coming, remember?”

  She had the decency to look embarrassed and didn’t question our actions any farther as we entered the tiny entrance. We ran up the stairs to the second floor.

  “Anything, Maxy?”

  He shook his head and led the way to their apartment. Lizzy locked the door behind us and leaned against it with a sigh. Max looked around the apartment, a slight frown on his face.

  “You alright?” Lane followed his gaze, trying to see what he was seeing.

  “I think so. I just…” He took one more look around. “It feels like someone’s been in here. Something’s off. I can’t see anything missing, though. Let’s just get the food and go. Babe, can you go grab the clothes?”

  Lizzy grabbed the duffle bag from him and headed to the bedroom while the rest of us made our way to the kitchen.

  “What the hell!” Maxy opened one cupboard and then another. “Lizzy!”

  We all turned as she appeared around the corner.

  “Where’s the food, Lizzy?” Max looked at his girlfriend, his anger plain for all to see. “You said you went to do groceries Friday after work when I went to your mom’s to try and fix her dishwasher.”

  Lizzy’s eyes filled with tears and she shook her head. “I never went.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Darlene’s. She… she put on a game…Vern said he’d double our checks, he just needed a bit to get in on it. He’s been having great luck lately…”

  “Fuck! So what was the plan, Lizzy? Let’s just say that after we left your mom’s Friday we hadn’t found out we were in the middle of a fucking zombie apocalypse then what the hell were you planning on telling me!” Max’s anger darkened his eyes and I saw his fists clench at his side.

  “I don’t know.” Her whisper broke.

  Max swung the cupboard door shut with a slam which caused Lizzy to cringe.

  “Max, why don’t you go grab what you want for clothes.” Lane gave his arm a squeeze and he left the room. The sound of drawer doors slamming and the closet door almost breaking off of its hinges filled the silence.

  “Lizzy…” I went to stand by her.

  “Leave me alone.” She wiped her arm across her face. “Just go away.”

  “We’re not going to leave you here alone.”

  “You’re not my mother. It’s my apartment. Get the hell out of it.” Her dark eyes glared into mine.

  We all looked up as Max reappeared holding two duffle bags.

  “I packed everything except those high heeled boots you like to wear out. I figured you wouldn’t need them.”

  Lizzy frowned and reluctantly looked up at him. “But…”

  “But what? Let’s go. We still have to hit up John’s and Gabby and Lane’s place.” He turned and headed out the door.

  “Well, you heard the man. Let’s go.” Lane gestured with his head and Lizzy followed his lead.

  “Umm, Gabs?” John stayed back and looked at the ground.

  “Yeah?”

  “We may as well just skip my place. I didn’t cash my check and there wasn’t much for food in the place when I left last Friday.” He looked so miserable I gave him a hug.

  “You’re going to want to get clothes, right?” I glanced back at him as we made our way down the stairway.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  Lane was waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. “Everything okay?”

  John leaned against the wall and looked at the floor. “I think something might ha
ve happened at my place. I tried phoning a few times from the shop, but there was never any answer. You know how they never leave the house…” He swallowed hard. “I mean, I could give a rat’s ass if Bert got ripped to shreds, but mom, well, she may not have been the best mom in the world, but she tried. I just… I think I’d rather not know.”

  Personally, I agreed with him. If his father was dead, it wasn’t a great loss to the world, in my opinion. Bert was John’s number one reason why he’d become an alcoholic at the age of thirteen. According to him, it was just easier to deal with a passed out teenager as opposed to a conscious one. When John was fifteen, Social Services had taken him away from his parents and put him in foster care and rehab. When he’d turned seventeen, after much discussion with authorities, he’d moved back in to keep an eye on his mother.

  “We’ll go in and check the place out first.” Lane gave him a squeeze on the arm and John nodded.

  “Everything alright?” Max called over from where he was leaning against the truck. He scanned the area around the building.

  “It’s good! Do you feel anything?” I kept a close eye on his to see if they were bleeding back to silver.

  “Nothing.”

  Johnny took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  We all piled back into the one ton and headed south. Fifteenth avenue was a stretch of deserted road.

  “Did you know that guy, Max?” Lizzy’s voice was just a whisper.

  “No.” There was no need to ask who she was asking about.

  I looked back at him and smiled. “Whoever he was, at least he didn’t try to eat us.”

  He grinned. “Note to self, silver eyes are better than yellow ones.”

  John grunted. “I could have told you that.” He shoved a playful elbow into his friend.

  “Man, shut up!” Max laughed. “I wouldn’t eat you anyway even if I had the urge to do something that retarded. You’re too fucking scrawny.”

  Lane smiled at me as we listened at the two of them taking jabs at each other. John’s newfound jovial attitude vanished at the sight of his house.

  “Just stay in the truck, John.” I sent a small prayer up to God that the kicked in front door was the work of Bert or one of his drunk friends and not the Yellow Eyes. “Anything nearby, Maxy?”

  “No. I’ll stay in here with John.”

  Lane nodded and we walked cautiously up the steps. He entered the house first, his rifle held at waist height. I scanned the living room quickly, searching through the mess of overturned furniture and scattered personal effects, and sighed at the lack of decaying bodies. Each room we searched revealed more of the same. It looked as though a tornado had flown through the house. Thankfully, there was no sign that anyone had been killed. I bent and picked up a picture of John when he was about seven. His grin was still the same. Even after everything he’d been through, his happy disposition was still prevalent. I set the frame on the coffee table and made my way to the front door.

  Max blinked quickly and my heart sank at the silver that appeared.

  “Lane!”

  I heard his footsteps running through the house toward me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Maxy’s eyes.”

  All of us were looking up and down the street, trying to see if we were about to meet some Yellow Eyes or the silver eyed man. Max stepped out of the truck and moved to the front of it, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

  “Maxy?” I closed the distance between us so that I was at his side, Lane a step behind me.

  “I don’t know. This feels, I don’t know. Different.”

  I frowned. “How?”

  “I don’t know, Gabs. It’s hard to explain. With the Yellow Eyes, I feel the danger. I know it’s them. When that guy showed up, it was different. I didn’t feel the bad from him. And this… it feels…” He grunted in frustration. “It feels like a hot cup of coffee when you’re cold. It feels… comfortable.” He gave a quick glance in my direction. “I know. It sounds stupid.”

  I shook my head. “You’re the one feeling it, Max. I’m not going to tell you it sounds like anything.”

  He let out a breath. “Well, whatever it is, it’s gone.”

  Lane led the way back into the house and John rushed to his room to get his things packed.

  “What do you think happened to his parents?” I asked Lane while I looked out the window to where Max and Lizzy sat in the truck. Neither of them looked at the other and I could see the pain on Maxy’s features.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, but here’s hoping they weren’t home when this happened.”

  “They weren’t.”

  We turned to see John staring at a piece of paper in his hand.

  “They left last Friday.” His voice was just a whisper. He handed me the note, his shock obvious. “They just left me.”

  I read the note for myself, feeling just as disbelieving as he looked.

  Johnny, I’m sorry. I tried phoning you but he won’t wait. It’s eleven oclock on Friday night. We’re going to La Ronge to stay with your uncle. Come there when you get this. I’m sorry, Baby. Mom

  “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. She always does do whatever he says and he never did give a rat’s ass about me.” He took a deep breath.

  “What do you want to do, Johnny?” I gave his arm a squeeze.

  “I want to have a drink,” he mumbled then gave a shake of his head. “But I’m not going to. I’ll tell you what else I’m not doing; going to fucking La Ronge. Those yellow eyed bastards are everywhere and I’m sticking close to the one person on the planet that can tell when they’re coming.” He glanced at the truck and flashed a grin at Max. His smile turned to us. “I’ll stay with the people who actually give a shit whether or not I make it through this crap alive.” Though his positive attitude was trying to win out, I could see the sadness in his eyes.

  Lane gave him a pat on the back before leading the way to the truck.

  “You good, man?” Max gave his friend the once over as he got into the truck.

  “Never better.” Johnny closed his eyes and swallowed hard as we pulled away from his house.

  It took us ten minutes of sliding through the slush and ice to get to our house. My heart sank at the sight of the front door sitting crooked on its hinges. I only took the time to glance back at Max’s eyes to make sure they were green before I vaulted from the truck.

  “Gabby!”

  I ignored Lane’s shout and ran into our house, straight to the terrarium. I choked back a sob and turned to bury my face into Lane’s chest at the sight of the empty tank.

  “Shit.” His arms went around me.

  “Maybe he’s still in the house.” Lizzy looked like she was about to cry. Her comment sent Max and John walking through the rooms. The sound of Iggy’s name being called out brought both tears and a smile. Somehow, I was sure he wouldn’t turn up and even if he was in the house, he sure as hell wouldn’t come running at the sound of his name. I took a few deep breaths and wiped my face with my arm. My heart was heavy in my chest.

  “You okay?” Lane pressed his lips to my forehead.

  “No,” I whispered. “Nothing about this is okay.” I glanced around the open concept living room/dining room/kitchen. Our cupboards had been emptied and the fridge left open. Food wrappers and garbage were lying scattered around the rooms. Anger sparked low in my belly. This was my house. No one had a right to come in and use it simply because the fucking zombies were taking over the world.

  “There’s no sign of Iggy, Gabs. Sorry.” Max gave me a sad smile.

  “Lane? The deep freeze is gone.” John looked miserable as he delivered this bit of information.

  Lane swore under his breath, closed his eyes, and exhaled loudly. “Alright. Well, I guess we’re here to grab clothes, then.” He handed me a duffle bag from in the entrance closet before heading to his room. I walked mechanically to my bedroom and sat heavily on the bed. Clothes lay haphazardly on the furniture as if someone
had tried them on then left them when they hadn’t fit. I grabbed the black Boondock Saints T-shirt and smelled it cautiously. Clean.

  Thank god, I thought. I stuffed it into the bag and proceeded to fill it, making sure to put everything from tank tops and shorts to sweaters and jeans in it. I looked at the steel toed boots I wore, shrugged, and stuffed my sports sandles into the bag. When I couldn’t put any more clothes into it, I grabbed a backpack from under the bed, went to the bathroom, and stuffed all of the feminine products I had into it.

  “Did you throw my razors in there?” Lane closed the door behind him and leaned back against it.

  “I was just getting to it.” I smiled at his scruffy appearance. I’d always loved when he didn’t shave.

  “I’m sure he’s alright, Gabrielle.”

  I shook my head. “No. He’s not, Lane. He’s an iguana. If he got out, he froze to death. If he didn’t get out, then someone took him. All his stuff is here. He’s…” I swallowed hard and forced myself to stop thinking of the possibilities. “He’s not okay.” I stuffed some soap and shampoo into the bag. “Let’s get back to the shop. The others will be getting worried.”

  Instead of trying to talk me out of feeling like shit, he simply gave a nod and led the way back out to the others.

  “Anything near, Maxy?” Everyone looked at Max’s eyes on impulse as Lane asked the question. He gave a shake of his head.

  “It’s all clear.”

  I leaned my head against the window and closed my eyes as Lane pulled away from our house. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe if I thought about waking up hard enough, I would. I thought of the bed I’d just been sitting on and imagined myself lying under the duvet, the blankets pulled over my head. I thought about how it felt to wake up in the morning; the sound of the furnace kicking in to warn me that it was cold out and the smell of coffee letting me know that Lane was already up and that a blueberry bagel covered in cream cheese was waiting for me.

  I felt Lane’s hand on my thigh and I covered it with my own.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  I smirked. “I’m trying to wake up.”

  He wrinkled his nose and I smiled. “I tried that this morning,” he admitted. “I don’t think we’re dreaming.” He honked the horn to let the others know we were pulling into the yard and the overhead door started to open.