Death Springs Eternal

by Robert J. Duperre

  They were outside Allentown, Pennsylvania, when the sun began to set. As always, Josh stuck to the side streets running parallel to the highway—first I-84, then Route 476. His goal was to connect with I-95 as far south as possible, but the journey was becoming more than a little irritating. Even with the reduced menace of zombies and crazy, deformed people, there were still constant hazards facing them, in the form of sudden obstructions or disease spread by the bounty of rotting corpses.

  As he drove through the suburb, once more the eerie feeling of being watched came upon him. At one point he swore he saw a candle flicker, then die, in an upstairs window of one of the empty homes. He craned his neck as he drove, trying to see through the murky dimness, and there they were, two silhouettes, dashing out of sight. He wanted to pull the SUV into the driveway, run up to the door, and offer assistance, but he didn’t. They’re probably scared shitless of us. Either that, or hostile.

  Swallowing that thought, he drove onward.

  The suburb faded away, replaced by acres of farmland. On the left appeared a giant farmhouse, unkempt, with broken windows and shingles missing off the roof, but otherwise untouched by conflict. He turned onto the rocky path and made his way toward it. With the last rays of sunlight forming a miasma of crimson on the clouds above, the domicile looked like it belonged in a horror movie.

  “Shut up,” he muttered.

  “What?” asked Kyra.

  “Nothing. Talking to myself.”

  He stepped out of the car, gestured for Luanda, who drove the trailing vehicle, to stay put for a second, and moseyed up to the front stoop. He clicked on his spotlight—an item on permanent loan from the Dick’s in Binghamton—and shone its giant funnel of light through the empty space where the picture window used to be. The room was empty but for the cobwebs and dust that covered most everything. Shining the light down, he noticed the hardwood floors were warped and rotting, and black mold had begun to spread. He shrugged and opened the front door. They could deal with some mold and dampness for one night. It wasn’t like they were going to make their home here.

  After scouting the rest of the house and finding it deserted, Josh took the SUVs around back, hiding them in one of the empty barns. He then barred the door, and the tired group gathered what few supplies they’d need for the evening and headed inside.

  Jessica rounded up all the children to get them ready for bed while Emily and Mary cooked kidney beans and corned beef hash on a gas-powered Hibachi. Yvette, Josh, and Kyra went about removing the moldy sheets and blankets from the beds in each of the six bedrooms, tossing them in garbage bags and hurling the bags out the upstairs windows. Luanda didn’t help at all, instead lounging in the living room, facing that smashed picture window and staring out at the starry night sky.

  Josh was worried about the woman. Yes he pestered her, yes he tried to make her react harshly at times, but truth be told he’d grown to rather like her. She was strong and opinionated, and his biggest ally—when she agreed with him, that is. But she’d started to distance herself from the rest of the group, spending too much time alone, moping. She didn’t even retort anymore when he made a snide comment.

  “What you think’s up?” he whispered while they went about the business of cleaning the bedrooms. “With Lu, I mean.”

  Kyra shrugged and said nothing, but Yvette spoke up, her mousy voice almost blending in with the chirping of the crickets.

  “She misses her husband,” she said. “I think she’s just lonely.”

  “She tell you that?” asked Josh.

  Yvette shook her head.

  “Then how do you know for sure? I should go talk to her.”

  Kyra’s hand fell on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t do that,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “Like I told you in the car, sometimes there’re things we just know.”

  Josh accepted that answer, but only grudgingly so. I’ll talk to her tomorrow, he thought. He owed her—and Sophia, and his parents, and everyone else he’d abandoned—at least that much.

  The group ate dinner in silence, the only sounds they made being the clank of forks and spoons on the metal camping pots. When everyone had eaten their fill (which wasn’t much—the months of lean meals had caused everyone’s appetite to diminish), they went about cleaning up the mess in a plastic basin filled with bottled water and baking soda. After that, Jessica led the charge in putting the children to bed. Zachary had fallen asleep on the floor in the living room. Josh was about to let him be, but then he remembered the black mold that covered the area by the windows and thought better of it. He scooped up the little one and carried him upstairs, lingering outside the doorway as Jess read to Meghan Stoddard and the other three girls; Jackie, Sharon, and Bliss. The glow of her LED book light encircled them like a blue cocoon. It seemed nothing could touch them in that moment—not the state of the world, not the pain of their everyday lives, not the uncertainty of their futures. As Jessica smiled and the girls giggled, they were reduced—or elevated—to their simplest forms. They were purely human, dealing the way humans do, finding joy in even the direst of circumstances…through laughter, respect, and a connection to others.

  Little Zachary sniffled and nuzzled his nose into Josh’s neck. He placed his palm on the sleeping child’s head, bathing in the warmth his small body radiated. Jessica glanced up, spotted him, and passed him a smile. Thank you, she mouthed. Josh nodded in reply, and then walked away, placing the sleeping child on the bed in the next room. He could still hear the innocent sound of giggling down the hall.

  A strange sensation came over him. He leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, and listened to his own heartbeat. Kyra’s face smiled back at him from behind his eyelids, and his pulse quickened.

  He raced down the stairs, his socked feet dancing lightly from step to step. Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he spotted Kyra sitting at the table with Yvette. There was a candle between them, and in the flickering light he noticed every crease of age on her face, every streak of gray that daubed her red hair. In the past this might have bothered him. But not now. When he gazed at her all he saw was the woman he’d grown to love, the woman who had stuck by him when he was down in the dumps, the woman carrying his child. His breathing hitched and he felt on the edge of tears.

  Kyra turned slowly, spotted him standing there and her lips curled into a grin. Even with the blemishes of time, her skin glowed.

  “What’s up hun?” she asked.

  Josh watched his toes as he shuffled from foot to foot. “I’m tired I think,” he said.

  “You should go to bed then.”

  “Yeah, but it’s dark here.”

  Both Kyra and Yvette laughed.

  “Scaredy cat,” said Kye.

  “I know.”

  He glanced up in time to see Yvette slap at her arm, which was followed by Kyra rubbing the spot in feigned shock. The mousy woman then gestured with her head.

  “You want me to come with you?” Kyra asked.

  Josh nodded.

  She giggled. “For protection, right?”

  “Something like that.”

  “’Vette, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, kay?” Kyra patted her hand, then swung her legs around in her chair and grunted as she stood up. She wore loose-fitting blue pajamas made from some sort of satin derivative, and the fabric clung to her belly, revealing its roundness, making it shimmer in the candlelight. Josh held his breath. He couldn’t explain why, but seeing her like that, all bloated and waddling, actually made him want her more than ever.

  His hand slipped over hers, and he led her through the living room to the other side of the house. There was a sort of enclosed pantry over there, a spot Josh claimed for his own when he first searched the premises. It was a large space, with various junk resting against the walls. There’d even been a cot in there, large and antique with a wooden frame. Josh had laid it open, dusted it off as best he could, and set it up for bedtime.

  Stopping Kyra at the entrance to
the pantry, Josh knelt down, removed a couple candles from his backpack, and set them up on either side of the cot. He lit them, and the flames combined with the moonlight that shone through the upper windows to create a sensual glow. Kyra whistled, and he looked up at her.

  She smiled, gentle and a bit sad, and said, “Oh, Josh…”

  “You like it?”

  “I do. But I’m not sure if I’m…you know…”

  Josh shook his head, stripped off his t-shirt and pants, and slipped beneath the covers. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “We don’t have to do anything. I just want to be close to you right now.”

  Kyra chewed on her bottom lip while she undid the buttons on her pajamas. The top came off, revealing her swollen belly and protruding bellybutton, as well as her much-larger-than-usual breasts. She had to sit down to take off her pants and underwear, but eventually she managed, even shooing Josh away when he offered to help. Then she slipped under the sleeping bag, her back to him.

  He draped his arm around her waist and their fingers laced together. His head pressed against hers, temple-to-temple, and it seemed as if their hearts beat as one.

  “I love you, you know,” he heard her say.

  “I know,” he replied.

  They lay in silence for a while. Josh breathed in deep through his nose, picking up the somewhat sour odor of her skin beneath her perfume. It was sour in a good way, like blackberry brandy. He tilted his head forward and touched his lips gently to her neck, tasting her saltiness on his tongue. Kyra stirred and shifted, letting out what sounded like a sigh. Her back arched as he pressed his lips against her, harder this time. He kissed her over and over, from her shoulder to below her ear, and her breathing became faster. Her hips swayed forward and back, and a new scent filled his nostrils.

  While he continued kissing her neck, she grabbed his wrist and guided his hand over her engorged belly, to where the kinky hairs down there parted. He felt slickness on his fingertips, and she then steered his hand in a circular motion while he pressed down. Her breathing hitched, and a slight whimper escaped her lips. He slid his free hand out from under her, eased her hair off her face, and kissed her on the cheek, the corner of her nose, the edge of her eye. Her head turned to him and their lips met, their tongues performing a dance all their own. She ground into him, hips rocking, yet their lips never parted.

  She released his wrist, and his swirling motion picked up its pace. She bucked even harder now, until her hips locked, her entire form thrown into a mad quiver. From the way she groaned—manically, not pained—it seemed as if she was biting down on her tongue to stop from making any more noise than she already did. Their lips separated, and Josh opened his mouth, only to have her finger press against his lips.

  “Yes,” she whispered, and inched all the closer to him.

  Entering her was like entering a hidden kingdom beneath the sea. Pressure held him, squeezed him, massaged him to ecstasy. Both his arms wrapped around her, his Kyra, his love, and for a span of time that seemed much too short, they ceased to be separate entities any longer, existing in a single space with one heart, one mind, one ardor.

  It was over quickly, and afterward they lay together, constantly touching each other. Josh stroked her hair while she placed tender kisses on his forearm. Soft clanking sounds reached his ears as the rest in the house packed away their supplies and readied for bed. After that all was silent but the clamor of nature outside and their mutual breathing.

  “I have to pee again,” Kyra murmured.

  She rolled out of the cot, blew out the candle beside her, and he watched her silhouette as she shuffled over to the plastic bucket in the corner and squatted. The hollow ping of fluid splashing against the bottom of the bucket followed, and his lover sighed.

  In a matter of moments she was back in bed, facing him this time. He closed his eyes as he lay on his back, her head resting in the crook of his armpit. His fingers stole up her spine, caressing her, and before too long he heard a low, guttural snore vibrate through her nose. Her chest rose and fell, pressed against his own, massaging him into drowsiness. He placed a hand on her head, feeling the greasy softness of her hair, and kissed her on the forehead.

  “Forever,” he whispered.

  Exhaustion forced his eyelids to close, and sleep followed soon after.

  * * *

  “I’m connected,” the voice said. “To everything.”

  Josh glanced around him, feeling at ease. There was coarse sea grass beneath him and a blue sky above. Waves crashed on the beach while seagulls cawed. The wind whistled across his ears. His skin felt tight, warm, prickled with salt. It was the perfect vision of tropical bliss, and his mind bristled with familiarity. In a matter of moments, the voice that had woken him was forgotten.

  He stood up, the sand hot and smooth between his toes. He wore nothing but a pair of shorts, and it amazed him, as he glanced down at his bare chest, how thin he’d become. It was like he was a different person, more capable and athletic than he’d been since his youth, though carrying with him the sort of adult comprehension only experience could bring.

  He strolled down the beach, as close to the water as he could get without getting soaked, eyes scanning the retreating surf for colorful shells. It was a ritual he’d performed often when voyaging to the New Hampshire seacoast with his family, when he’d taken a young Sophia by the hand, hoping to impart to her the beauty and mystery of the wide, intimidating ocean. His sister had taken to the task with enthusiasm matching his own, and their beach trips became bonding exercises that would last until the day Sophia died.

  Yes, his sister was gone—as were his parents and most everyone else he’d ever known. He sighed and lifted his eyes to the sky, watching a pair of birds perform an aerial ballet, dipping and soaring as they chased each other across the horizon. Gone, but not forgotten. They were in a better place now, and he took solace in the fact that his grief didn’t engulf him in steel jaws and bind him to the ground while his tears irrigated the sand.

  He shivered, shook off the onset of sorrow, and continued on. The beach stretched out in either direction for as far as he could see. He paused, the thought coming to him that he didn’t know why he was here, didn’t know where he was supposed to go. He was about to turn around, but then an image came to him—a lone figure off in the distance, sitting in the sand, gazing at the endless sea. An aura of calmness surrounded the form, an impression of innocence and piety that drew him in. His feet picked up their pace and before long he was running.

  The stranger grew larger and larger in his vision, until he could make out the long, slender shape of a woman, dressed in a tank top and jeans, sitting cross-legged while her dark hair fluttered in the breeze. She glanced his way, not smiling but not frowning either, her dark brown eyes twinkling in the sunlight. The corners of her lips curled and her nose, large and beautifully rounded, crinkled up. She brushed the hair away from her ears and leaned back, bracing her arms behind her. Her breasts pushed against the fabric of her tank top as the wind blew, hugging her frame, revealing ultra-womanly curves. Josh was breathless before her.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey,” he replied.

  “You heard me call you.”

  “Did I?”

  “Well, you’re here, aren’t you?”

  “I guess so.”

  The girl closed her eyes and lifted her chin, making her appear that much more sensual—the vision of a Harlequin romance, waiting for her lover as the surf approached her toes, looking forward to the moment he’d swallow her up in his arms and ravage her. She then leaned forward and gazed at him.

  “Uh-uh,” she said. “Not now.”

  He giggled, feeling blood rush into his cheeks, and shook his head. “Marcy,” he said, “it’s good to see you.”

  “Same here.”

  Again her eyes drifted to the ocean and they sat in silence, he playing with the sand before him while she remained stiff as a statue. It seemed like hours passed, or maybe it was on
ly seconds. A bizarre sense of tranquility came over him, as if he was always meant to be right there, right then, and nowhere else. His heart rate quickened, and guilt started pouring in. There was so much he wanted to say to her, so much he needed to get off his chest.

  “Marcy, it really is good to see you,” he said instead.

  She chuckled and rubbed her neck. “Yeah, you just said that,” she replied. “It’s been a while. What, ten years?”

  “Something like that. But it’s strange. At times it feels like not that long ago.”

  “I know. There’s definitely some weird things going on to make you feel that way.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Dreams.” She looked at him, and her eyes narrowed. “Visions. Insight. Connection. You know what I’m saying.”

  He shook his head. “Actually, I don’t.”

  Another laugh. “Of course not. So full of anxiety, so me-first. You were always like that. It’d be just like you not to see the bigger picture. I should’ve expected that.”

  He grunted and pulled back. “Hey now, there’s no need for that,” he said. He felt his defensiveness rise from his stomach like a leviathan.

  “Oh, come on,” she said with a roll of the eyes. “Don’t deny it, Josh.”

  “But I’ve changed.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. Probably. But that isn’t the point, and you know it.”

  He opened his mouth to retort, but snapped it shut without a word. She was right. He did know it. He’d come so far, admitted so much. It was time to take yet another step.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Her expression became soft. “For what?”

  “For pushing you away. For being a dick. For being selfish.”

  She grinned. “Oh, that’s okay. We were kids. Shit happens.”

  “Huh?”

  With a cackle, Marcy leapt to her feet with the dexterity of a cat and skipped away, a wild smirk on her face. “Just wanted to get you to say it!” she laughed. “Ain’t payback a bitch?”

  “Why, you little…” Josh began, then scampered up to give chase. She was fast, faster than him. His feet pounded the sand and his heart hammered in his chest. He felt such incredible lightness, and he couldn’t help but laugh along with her. Finally Marcy came to a halt, twirling around and holding her arms out wide. He slowed as he approached, and then fell into her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her down.