by Chelsea Luna
“Really?” Rachel poked her head out from the plastic curtain. Shampoo bubbles covered her hair. “Did you just ask me what my favorite color was? Or was I hearing things?”
“I did,” Cage said. “Unless you’d rather talk about zombies and the end of the world.”
She disappeared behind the shower curtain. “Good point. My favorite color is white.”
“White? That’s odd.”
“Why?”
Cage flexed his arms. His muscles were sore. “Well, most girls like pink or red or….” He trailed off, because he’d answered his own question. Rachel wasn’t like most girls. “Why white?”
“I don’t know. It’s clean. Unmarked. I don’t know, I just like it.” The water shut off and Rachel pushed back the curtain. She had a fluffy white towel wrapped around her body. Her long blond hair was wet and dripped to the floor.
Oh man. Cage was incredibly aware that Rachel was only wearing a towel. He hopped from the counter and kept his eyes on the floor.
“Were you going to shower, too?” Rachel walked to the sink next to him. “I’ll be your shower buddy.”
“Uh, yeah.” Cage’s face grew warm. He was sure it was beet red.
“I wish I had clean clothes.” Rachel’s back was turned. “But these will have to do.”
Cage flipped off his shirt and tossed it on the counter. He quickly stepped inside the stall and turned on the water, hoping Rachel hadn’t seen him blush. Cage took a deep breath. His heartbeat was racing again.
“What’s your favorite color?” Rachel asked.
“Uh, blue,” Cage said. It was a typical boy’s color. There wasn’t anything unique about him. He was just an average teenage boy who apparently couldn’t even be in the same room as a girl wearing a towel. What an idiot. Did Rachel notice he was blushing? Was he staring at her when she stepped out of the shower?
“Blue’s nice. So,” Rachel said. “Adam and Selena are an item.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement.
“Yes,” Cage said. “I think so.”
“She’s really pretty. I think she’s Russian.”
“She’s okay.” Cage squirted shampoo into his palm and worked it into a lather. “I prefer blondes, though.” He banged his head against the wall as soon as he’d said it. What a dork. He sounded like a moron. “Uh, we should find some food downstairs when I’m done. I’m starving,” he said quickly to change the subject.
“Yeah, I’m hungry, too,” she said quietly.
Why was he so awkward around Rachel? He’d never had trouble talking to girls. Actually, it was quite the opposite – girls flocked to him and he reveled in the attention. Why wasn’t it the case with Rachel? He felt like an idiot whenever he was around her.
He banged his head once more before he turned off the shower to remind himself not to say anything stupid again. She sat on the counter near the sink dressed in the gray tank top and jean shorts that she wore earlier. Her hair was wet, but she was drying it with a towel.
Cage had dressed in his boxers and shorts while he was in the shower stall, but he’d flung his shirt on the sink during his hasty getaway. Now, he had to walk by Rachel – shirtless - and he’d never felt more naked in his life. It was dumb. How many times had he purposely gone shirtless at football practice or at the beach whenever a cute girl was around? He regularly worked out and he liked to show off his muscles, but this absolutely wasn’t the case now. He’d never felt more self-conscious in his life.
Rachel lifted her eyes, noticed he didn’t have a shirt on, and hopped off the sink. She barely gave his chest a passing glance. “Come on Cage, get dressed. I’m starving.”
And with that, his ego deflated.
~ ~ ~
Vivienne’s breathing had slowed. Each breath sounded wet. Selena had visions of her sister’s organs being corrupted by the zombie virus. She couldn’t think of anything worse than seeing Vivienne die in front of her and then rise from the dead.
Adam and Nicky descended the stairs. Adam’s pipe was gooey with red stuff again, which meant they must’ve run into more zombies.
“Is the girl all right?” Selena asked.
Adam sat on the floor beside her, the pipe disappearing from sight. “Rachel’s okay, but it was a close call. A zombie was hiding in the shower.”
Selena shivered.
“Not just any zombie,” Nicky said. “The biggest fattest f-”
“But we killed him.” Adam cut him off.
“Killed him again, you mean.”
Selena studied Adam’s face. He had dark shadows under his eyes, but he was still painfully handsome. She wanted to rub her hand across the stubble on his cheeks. Their eyes met and a slow smiled spread across his face. He reached for her hand.
“But Rachel’s okay?” Selena asked.
Adam stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “Physically she’s not hurt, but I think it’s been an exceptionally trying night for her, especially after the incident at the Wooden Barrel with her foster father. She’ll be all right. Cage is upstairs with her now.”
Selena smiled. The teenagers were cute. From what she’d overheard from Nicky, Rachel and Cage had only met tonight. Obviously, they were attracted to each other – anyone could see that - but it was the closeness between them that gave Selena a sense of hope during this horrible night. The intimacy between them in such a short span of time was unique. Rachel was tough, but broken at the same time. Then you had Cage sweeping in to the rescue whenever she needed him. It was romantic how he’d dropped everything and ran to save her….
Selena sighed. She sounded like one of her romance novels. Who knew? Maybe people who survived terrible ordeals together grew closer in shorter spans of time. It was the case with Rachel and Cage and, it seemed to be the case with her and Adam.
Selena leaned against Adam’s shoulder. She could feel his hard muscles under his shirt. She felt safe with him. He’d saved her countless times tonight. After the initial attack at Adam’s home, he drove across town to her. She didn’t care what anyone said about dating for a few weeks, that was love and she was one hundred percent certain she was madly in love with Adam Guerra.
Nevertheless, true to the story of her life, once something went well, it crashed and burned to the ground. Of course she’d find the man of her dreams on the eve of the end of the world. Funny how things happened like that.
“Can you hand me the laptop?” Adam asked Nicky.
Rachel and Cage descended the stairs, both of them wearing the same clothes, but with wet hair and clean skin. Selena envied their shower, but it would have to wait. She wouldn’t leave her sister’s side until - she bit her tongue at the thought, but she knew it was true - until Vivienne died.
Nicky sank into the blue love seat and swung his feet over the arms. He turned on the television and casually flipped through the channels, a handful of which had disheveled looking news anchors reporting from behind messy desks.
Cage led Rachel to the remaining seat – a stiff looking blue chair. She folded her legs underneath her and Cage sat on the floor in front of her like a guard dog.
Nicky stopped on a channel with a pretty Asian anchor. “Stay indoors. Do not go outside. Do not attempt to make contact. I repeat, do not attempt to make contact with loved ones infected.”
“That’s their advice?” Cage stretched his legs out on the thin carpet. “Stay inside? Where’s the military?”
“Our military isn’t big enough to help everyone.” Adam typed on the laptop.
“The reporter said infected? Do they know what it is?” Rachel combed her fingers through her wet hair. It was a darker shade of blonde when it was wet.
Selena watched Rachel from the corner of her eye. She was pretty. Really pretty, but not the kind of girl who knew she was attractive. She had big dark blue eyes like the Precious Moments Dolls, a tiny nose and thick full lips. She envied Rachel’s youth - not that Selena was old at twenty-five, but you could never really get back that teenage glow once it was go
ne.
Selena’s gaze shifted to Cage. He was leaning against Rachel’s chair watching television. He was handsome. Too young for Selena, but she could see why he’d be the popular boy in school. Or what had Adam said before? The star quarterback? That’s exactly what Cage looked like – the star quarterback.
Cage’s dark hair was cut short. He had startling hazel eyes. He was big, too, taller than Adam, and his chest was filled out more like a man’s than a teenage boy’s.
“Is there a cure?” Rachel asked Adam. “Did they say anything about how to cure them?”
“The news sucks.” Nicky flipped the channel. “It’s always wrong and always late.”
“No news on a cure, but the internet is still working,” Adam said.
Selena couldn’t imagine how the Internet would ever be down. She had visions of zombies toppling over telephone styled-poles. She knew the Internet didn’t work like that, but she never really understood how it worked. Instantaneous information at the flick of a few keystrokes? It was mindboggling if you thought about it, which most people didn’t. They accepted it and relied on it. If this outbreak was as widespread as Selena feared, millions of people would have to get use to the absence of luxuries like the Internet, television and safety.
“There are tons of videos and blogs. A few of the sites crashed, but mostly everything is still up and running,” Adam said.
“What do they say?” Rachel asked.
“It’s conflicting, of course, but it appears to be a domestic outbreak.”
“It’s only happening in Flint?” Cage asked.
Adam shook his head. “Domestic meaning America. From what I can tell, it’s centered in the middle of the United States right now. Chicago is burning as we speak. People are saying it’s an all-out war zone. Zombie outbreaks are spreading east toward New York. So far, no reports of any activity west of the Mississippi or down in the Deep South.”
“Yet,” Nicky said. “How are they going to contain the outbreak? Grab the military – most of which is already deployed overseas – and have them hold hands and make a human chain that sections off the middle and upper-right hand corner of America? No way.”
“Actually,” Adam said, as if surprised by Nicky’s non-sarcastic comment, “that’s exactly what they’re trying to do. There’s heavy military activity in St. Louis, all the way to Raleigh, North Carolina. They’re trying to form a military border.”
“What about us?” Selena smoothed the wrinkles out of her pale green dress. She ignored the specks of blood that covered the silky material. Just like she ignored that she was barefoot – she’d left her favorite heels at the bar during the attack. “What about the area that’s already crawling with zombies? Why don’t they send the military north?”
“There’s not enough resources,” Adam said.
“But this is America,” Selena said. “This is the most powerful country in the world, right?”
Adam frowned. “The military is probably trying to contain the spread of infection as opposed to search and rescue missions over a span of thousands of miles.”
“No help is coming,” Rachel said flatly.
Silence lingered in their tiny circle.
“Nope.” Nicky flipped the channel. “We’re screwed. Do you really think they’re going to send help to a small town like Flint? Adam said Chicago – Chicago is like the third biggest city in the country – is burning to the ground. We’re on our own.”
“The military can’t contain the outbreak,” Cage said. “Like Nicky said, they can’t watch the entire invisible border of half of America. Zombies will slip by and look how fast Flint was overrun.”
The news anchor introduced an older man wearing a yellow bow tie and tweed jacket. His name flashed on the screen beneath him. He was a scientist from the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta, Georgia. “It appears to be viral in essence,” Dr. William Zeta said. “The transfer of fluids via bite, scratch or other means will infect a healthy human.”
Selena squeezed Vivienne’s hand.
“Once infected, the virus kills the host and reanimates the cells after death. Once the viral host is reanimated, the person is no longer who they once were. From my limited experience with these… viral hosts, I’ve noticed that parts of the temporal lobe are no longer functioning. The brain has reverted back to the most basic primal instincts – hunger and the urge to spread the virus to others. For lack of a better analogy, one must think of a rabid dog, which is no longer able to reason or properly function.” The camera zoomed in on Dr. Zeta’s wrinkled face. “The rate of infection, if not properly quarantined, could rise exponentially as we’ve unfortunately seen in our northern states.”
“We’re so screwed,” Nicky said.
“That’s one way to put it.” Cage shook his head.
“We’re not talking old school Romero zombies, either,” Nicky said.
Rachel tugged the bandage around her forearm. “What does that mean?
Nicky looked at Rachel. “You know, the kind of zombies that rise from the dead – pushing up gravestones. Clawing out of coffins. Didn’t you ever see the George Romero film, Dawn of the Dead? Where the guy says, ‘When there’s no more room in Hell, the dead will walk the Earth.’ How do you guys not know this? What planet are you from?”
“You’re saying viral zombies are worse?” Rachel asked.
“Most definitely,” Nicky said. “Viral zombies infect you if you get bit or clawed or if any of their fluid gets into your system. Old school Romero zombies only turned once the person was actually dead.”
“Do they know what started the virus?” Cage asked.
“The blogs are saying it’s a terrorist attack,” Adam said. “Some form of biological weapon.”
Selena blanched. “You mean someone purposely did this?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“It’s going to wipe out America and spread all over the globe,” Selena said quietly. “Millions of people are going to die.”
Nicky stretched his arms high above his head. “Like I said before, we’re screwed.”
Chapter Thirteen
“They are human beings!” The news anchor screamed. “We cannot murder American citizens!” The heated debates regarding the moral and legal aspects of killing zombies were on every channel.
Rachel tuned it out. She was still in shock over her brush with death from the enormous shower zombie and she felt sick to her stomach now that she had confirmation that the outbreak wasn’t an isolated incident. She’d hoped it was only happening in Flint, but zombies were terrorizing towns all over the northern half of America, including Ann Arbor.
The worst part was – no help was coming.
She stifled a yawn. She was physically and mentally exhausted. The dog bite on her arm throbbed, her legs felt like Jell-O from all of the running and the back of her head was sore where she’d banged it on the bathroom floor. Not to mention her chest, stomach and legs were bruised from the weight of the heavy zombie.
If Cage hadn’t come when he did, Rachel would be dead by now, or worse - reanimated. Cage sat on the floor in front of her chair. She’d watched as he’d slipped the police officer’s phone out of his pocket and dialed home. After holding the phone to his ear for about two minutes, he slipped it back into his pocket.
Rachel wanted to comfort him. She wanted to run her hand through his dark hair, but instead she tucked her hands under her legs. He’d acted strange in the bathroom. First, he saved her life and rushed to her like she was the most important person in the world. Then, after she showered, he’d pulled away from her. He’d avoided eye contact and barely said a word. Finally, when Cage walked out of the shower stall shirtless, the awkwardness between them reached a fevered pitch. It was a whole bundle of mixed signals and Rachel didn’t know how to read them.
Adam stood up. “I’m going to sleep. We don’t know if we’ll have another opportunity to stay somewhere relatively safe. We should take advantage. I’ll get some blankets and pillo
ws from the bunks upstairs.”
Rachel curled her feet under her. She was tired, but she didn’t think she could sleep. Too much adrenaline was pumping through her system. She glanced at the others. Nicky typed on the laptop with an amused grin – there was no telling what he was looking at.
Selena had shifted into a praying position in front of her sister. Vivienne didn’t look conscious, but there was still a slight rise and fall of her chest. Rachel felt bad for Selena. She couldn’t imagine the heartbreak of seeing your sister die in front of your eyes.
Rachel shook her head. She couldn’t think about that without getting hysterical and she didn’t want to cry anymore.
Adam appeared with blankets. He handed an armful of bedding to Cage. Nicky was sprawled out on the loveseat. Vivienne, of course, had the couch. It looked like Rachel was sleeping on the floor tonight, because the chair was incredibly uncomfortable.
Cage looked at her. “Where do you want me to put these?”
She didn’t want to be too far away from the others, but she wanted some privacy. “How about behind the chair?”
Cage made a soft bed of blankets on the floor behind the chair. Instead of putting one pillow down, he arranged two side by side. He lowered himself to the makeshift bed and looked up at her. “You coming?”
Rachel nodded, completely at a loss for words. Play it cool. She glanced away from those damn eyes of his and prayed that Cage couldn’t hear the rapid thump of her heartbeat. She crawled onto the blanket and laid her head on the pillow beside Cage.
“I hate that we’re not leaving now,” Cage whispered. He propped himself up on his elbow. “But, this is pretty comfortable and I’m dead tired.”
“Bad choice of words.”
He smiled.
Rachel wrapped the blanket around her. Despite the heat outside, the fire station’s air conditioners pumped out cold air like it was going out of style. She was freezing. “I want to apologize.”
His forehead wrinkled. “For what?”
“I was nasty to you after we were carjacked.”
