The Dead Days Journal: Volume 1

by Sandra R. Campbell

  Laughter flittered up the stairs. My mother didn’t laugh much anymore. The day Ben made a scene by dragging me away from her in the pantry had been the last time I’d heard even a hint of merriment in her voice. I paused to listen, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time I’d hear my mother’s laughter.

  Closing the stairwell door, I touched my forehead to the cool metal and whispered to Ben. “What will my father and Lincoln do without her?”

  Ben’s big hands soothed the tension from my back and then he pulled me from the door.

  Dead Day # 1,443

  Life is good. My daughter is noticeably happier with Ben, and I’m sure they are working on the next generation as I write these words. One life has ended, one is close to an end, and another is about to begin.

  Joy will fill our hearts once more.

  The group as a whole is elated with everyone getting a turn at a warm bath. This life-affirming luxury will never be taken for granted again. Of course, Ben only thought of Leo when he constructed a wood cradle for the old steel tub, but he shared with the group and for that he deserves our thanks. I still cannot believe I almost left this man for dead. He has more than proven himself.

  There are sad souls slinking about, darkening our doorways, Jack and Harris. While Harris understandably mourns his beloved Margaret, Jack mourns for a love he’s never known. I see the way he looks at my daughter. I worry about these two men and will have to watch both a little more closely.

  The crops are strong and still thriving. Patrols report no signs of trespassers. I’ve kept the salvagers and hunters grounded but allowed a few traps to be set just outside the perimeter and in fact the nearby woods have provided plenty of game. Security procedures will stay in place, and I plan to keep my daughter closer to home, but the young ones need some fresh air. I will allow them all to venture outside the compound walls to the courtyard in the morning.

  Sylvia was so happy after her warm bath that she has asked for a celebration. We have had little to celebrate over the years, and she feels it is time. This could well be her last party, so how can I deny her request for fun.

  A few nights from now we will dance, eat, and enjoy life as we did a long time ago.

  Population: 22

  Rations: 193 days

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Duncan stood with his chin tipped and one hand placed on his hip. In the other hand, which was decorated with a skeleton tattoo, he held a turquoise-blue strapless dress to his barrel chest as he jutted his hip out at me and roared.

  Everyone had a little more humor these days. Hot baths, quiet nights, and good crops were exactly what we needed after Margaret’s tragic death, which was the very reason Duncan and I were in the storage basement. We were looking for mandatory party attire.

  I gave Duncan a construction worker whistle. “Definitely your color.”

  Duncan twirled and raised a meaty thigh. “I could wear it as a leg warmer, maybe.”

  I laughed and then went back to searching through the rack. I wasn’t looking for anything fancy, just something more colorful than my usual grey, tan, and black attire.

  “Come on. You need to throw on some girl clothes every once in a while. Why not show Ben just how hot you can be.” Duncan tossed the dress at my head. The shimmery, pale turquoise fabric was supple, delicate to the touch. Who would have ever thought to save this?

  “I think Ben already knows.” I gave Duncan a playful wink.

  “All kidding aside, Leo, this is a special occasion. Treat it as such and wear the dress. It’s perfect.”

  My father had met Duncan on spring break his junior year at NYU. Duncan had been on leave from the Army, and both had ended up in a Florida bar. The infamous fight that brought the two of them together was started by a group of drunken jocks. They hadn’t liked my father’s pink eyes, and after calling him a fucking freak, they jumped him. Six Georgia football players held my father down while the burly right guard attempted to gouge out his left eye with a broken beer bottle.

  The jagged glass never got close to breaking the skin because Duncan kicked in the side of the jock’s head. The odds hadn't been exactly even, but my father and Duncan managed to fight off the entire Georgia Tech offensive line. Then they spent several nights in jail.

  After that night they considered themselves brothers. Duncan even came to live with us when he left the military. He moved into the small apartment above our garage and had often accused me of being a prissy track star, but he also taught me how to ride a motorcycle and shoot a gun.

  Duncan bumped me with his shoulder. “Stop staring at it and go try the dress on. I’ll give you an honest opinion.”

  Popping up on my toes, I placed a kiss on Duncan’s cheek and then walked behind the closest shelves. I truly loved the man. He was family in the best sense of the word—because he chose to be.

  The dress was a little loose around the waist, but I had just enough of a chest to hold it up. I loved the sway of the skirt when I moved and the silky feel of the material against my skin. I felt like the girl I once was, the girl that had never seen a dead body or slit the throats of thieving psychopaths… The girl I could never be again.

  I peeked around the corner of the shelving unit in time to see Duncan squeeze into a tan jacket. He saw me and struck another pose, or actually, the same pose as before—chin high and hip jutted.

  “Looking good, Duncan," I said as I stepped out to show off the dress with a dramatic twirl.

  Duncan walked over to drape a big arm around my shoulders, and then he led me out of the storage level. “Stunning, Leo. You are perfect.”

  Perfect I wasn’t, but I knew Duncan’s strategy. He wanted to get me up the stairs and to the party before I changed my mind about the dress. But he did allow me to stop by my alcove, where I brushed my hair into a high ponytail and applied a little pink lip gloss. I didn’t have appropriate shoes, and so I went barefoot.

  Linking his arm through mine, Duncan escorted me outside to the party.

  The evening was warm and clear. A small trio of fires burned brightly in the center of a clearing just outside the mouth of the cave. We called it the courtyard. There were tables set up—some for eating and sitting and others for serving food. On the menu tonight: deer stew, rice, and vegetables.

  I spotted my mother across the yard. Her back was to me as she helped Lincoln tighten his blindfold. After spinning him in a full circle, she pushed him toward a large barrel of rainwater that contained delicious ripe apples.

  A couple of thick logs framed the fires, and that’s where Robert Morgan sat. He was strumming an acoustic guitar with his long, dark fingers. Robert claimed that, before the world ended, he’d been a musician on the rise. No one really knew or cared if this was true because the man really knew how to play the blues.

  Heads turned as Duncan and I approached, but the face I’d most hoped to see was nowhere in sight. I spun around, searching for Ben. When a catcall rang out overhead, I looked up to see Ben standing guard on the roof. He wore his usual jeans and T-shirt, but he was clean-shaven and he’d cut his hair. Placing his hand over his heart, he dipped his head and smiled.

  Robert had just started to play his favorite B.B. King tune, "Rock Me Baby," when Jack appeared in dark slacks and a white button down shirt. He smoothed his black hair back with two hands as he prowled across the courtyard looking more like a fighter approaching the ring than a party-goer.

  So, what did that make sweet Hannah? The sixteen-year-old I believed Jack was sleeping with followed close behind him. Her curly brown hair was pulled back with a thick green headband and her flowered sundress was two sizes too big.

  She didn’t look happy when Jack extended his hand and asked me to dance. And when I accepted and Duncan placed my hand in Jack’s, she turned on her heels and stormed back inside the bunker.

  “What are you doing?” I finally asked Jack as he showed off his dancing skills by lowering me backward into a fancy dip.

  “I’m dancing with a bea
utiful woman.” Jack stood me up and flattened his hand on my lower back, pressing his hip to mine. A shadow darkened his hazel eyes as he focused his gaze on my mouth.

  “I’m talking about Hannah. You haven’t been yourself in weeks. Is she the reason you’ve been moping about?”

  “Have I been moping? I’m surprised you noticed.” Jack showed his teeth, but it wasn’t a smile.

  I broke Jack’s hold. Something in his voice struck me as odd. He didn’t sound like my friend, and I didn’t think I could trust him at that moment. He’d also been squinting more lately, making a point not to look anyone in the eye.

  Moving in a tight circle around me, Jack trained his lying eyes on a spot somewhere between my neck and my collarbone.

  “Of course I noticed. So what’s going on? Why are you acting so strange?”

  Jack leaned in closer. I stopped him with a palm to the center of his chest, but not before his lips brushed against my ear. “It should have been me, not Ben.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Jack glared. There was not an ounce of humor in his rigid expression. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

  In the flickering light of the fires, Jack’s eyes appeared to glow.

  “No, you look pissed off. Jack, you and I are friends—just friends.” Removing my hand from his chest, I took two steps back.

  “We could be so much more than friends. All I need is a chance to show you. It could be you and me together, forever.” He smoothed his hair back again and then dropped his hands to his sides. Jack’s fingers curled slowly into tight, white-knuckled fists.

  “No, we can’t. And forever doesn’t exist.” Jack had just violated my trust and our friendship. Even if I were interested, I’d never stoop so low as to be a notch on his belt. The world might have changed overnight, and in some ways I’d changed, too, but not this. Not when it came to my heart.

  I walked away.

  Everyone was busy eating, drinking, and laughing, but none were too busy to greet me with compliments as I surveyed the food table. The attention would have made me smile but the evening was ruined. I wanted to rip off the dress, slip on my comfy old sweats, and curl up on my cot—alone.

  I’d just finished pouring some warm deer stew over a plate of sticky rice when someone dropped a heavy hand on my shoulder. I shrugged the hand away before turning to see my father. A bowtie? Really, Dad. You look like the ghost of Vincent Price.

  My father surveyed me closely as if he were sizing me up for something. “Everything okay? I saw you and Jack over there.”

  “Yeah, it’s fine. Nothing to worry about.” I moved to the nearest bench and sat down.

  My father followed. “You look beautiful, Leo, just like your mother. I can’t believe she saved that dress.”

  “This is Mom’s dress?” I said around a spoonful of rice.

  My father turned his eyes to the rising moon. “She was wearing it the night I asked her to marry me.”

  A lump of rice caught in my throat. My father vigorously patted my back as I coughed and then struggled to swallow the mush back down.

  Now I really wanted to go change. It didn’t bother me that the dress would remind my parents of a happier time, but wearing it tonight, given my new relationship with Ben… The implications would not go unnoticed. I wondered if Duncan knew about the dress when he insisted I wear it tonight.

  I’d just finished my plate of food when my mother approached, her green eyes glistening with tears. “Oh, my, Leona, you are a vision.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I stood to give her a hug. She was all bone. “I’m going to head to the roof and say hi to Ben.”

  Reaching into the small basket she carried, she pulled out a metal flask and handed it to me. “It will be chillier away from the fires.”

  I twisted off the cap and took a sip. It was Glen Livet, eighteen year-old single malt scotch. My father had dozens of bottles stashed all around the bunker. “Thanks.”

  I smiled as my father stood to welcome my mother with a kiss that was on the verge of being inappropriate.

  Before heading to the cave entrance where a natural rock staircase led up to a metal-rung ladder, I grabbed a bowl of stew for Ben. The climb to the top would be tricky. I’d made the trip before with weapons and food in hand, but never barefoot or in a dress. Tucking the flask into the top of my dress, I hiked the skirt and balanced the bowl in my left hand.

  Ben was waiting for me at the top of the ladder. I offered him the bowl, which he quickly set aside to help me over the ledge of the roof, and then he continued to pull me into his warm arms, smashing the flask against my sternum.

  “Ouch.” I pushed Ben off to retrieve the scotch.

  Ben eyed me for a second, his growing smile testing the limits of his mouth. “Wow. Dinner, drinks, and a dress. I’m one lucky guy.”

  “You might also get lucky. How long are you on post?” I took a gulp from the flask and closed my eyes to enjoy the smooth burn traveling down my throat to my belly.

  Ben snatched the flask and took a lengthy swig. “Jack and I are alternating with Robert tonight. So, as soon as Robert finishes up down there, I’ll be all yours.”

  As Ben shoveled heaping spoonsful of the quickly cooling stew down his throat, racing against the cool air, I settled on the edge of the roof with the flask. Allowing my feet to dangle over the side, I watched the party from my bird’s eye view. Most of the younger kids, including my brother Lincoln, were either racing to catch fireflies that were just starting to emerge or running about playing imaginary games. Most of the adults were joking by the fires or singing along to the music while my parents danced. They were the only couple dancing, and they continued to sway in each other’s arms long after Robert put down his guitar.

  I couldn’t help but notice Harris’s absence. It was too soon for him to celebrate anything. In fact, the announcement of the celebration, which my father had deemed mandatory, came as quite a shock to everyone, including me. I couldn’t understand the importance of it. We were still on lockdown. There weren’t supposed to be fires or music or laughter because someone, or something, could be lurking nearby.

  What the hell are we supposed to be celebrating anyway?

  “She doesn’t have much longer, does she?” I felt the heat of Ben behind me and leaned back against his strong legs.

  “No, and they haven’t talked to me about it either.” The pressure behind my eyes was building. I tilted the flask back for another numbing dose of scotch. No one drank openly because it was dangerous—a foggy head and a misstep with a gun could get someone killed. After a few lengthy swigs, the hazy effects were kicking in.

  “I’m sure they will, when the time is right. It can’t be easy for them.” Ben grabbed the flask from my hand and moved around the perimeter of the roof to scan the nearby woods before they disappeared into the dark of night.

  When Ben returned, he handed back the flask, now only about half-full. “Drowning your sorrows tonight, Leo? Does it have anything to do with that exchange I saw between you and Jack?”

  “Jack’s been a bit weird lately. I think he’s moved on from Alice and is now sleeping with Hannah. She’s only sixteen.” I downed another sip and handed the flask over to him.

  “Were you judging him? Is that why you walked away and he stormed off? Or do you and I need to have a talk?”

  I jerked my head around to see Ben’s eyes flash green and his face darken. “Well, Benjamin Alexander, are you jealous?”

  “Do I have reason to be?” His tone might have been soft but the deep furrow between his brows told me he was deadly serious.

  “No. Jack and I are just friends. You have nothing to worry about.”

  When Ben’s lips parted and his brow relaxed, I jumped to my feet and stretched to plant a kiss over his growing smile.

  A few minutes later we were excused from the roof by a surprised and red-faced Robert, who saw a little more action than he’d bargained for. Fumbling to straighten our clothes, Ben and
I made a hasty dash across the roof and down the ladder.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Ben’s soft caresses, the kiss of his moist lips, and the stroke of his hands woke me. I was barely awake and already my head throbbed. The inside of my mouth felt like the desert, but Ben was persistent enough to allow me to forget those uncomfortable inconveniences for a little while longer.

  All I could remember from the party was drinking scotch and returning to his double-cot to continue what we’d started on the roof. We must have passed out before anything happened because Ben was now incredibly enthusiastic, determined to hear me cry out. I enjoyed every second until the pleasure got too intense. I wouldn’t be able to keep quiet, and sound echoes off concrete. Jack’s bunk wasn’t too far down the tunnel, and then Duncan’s.

  I bucked and pulled at his hair to dislodge him only to have my hands captured and pinned to the sides of my legs. Then Ben dove deeper. Sweeter kisses and swift strokes of his tongue brought me to climax. Throwing my head to the side, I smashed my mouth into a pillow and cried out his name.

  Ben gave me a mere fraction of a second to recover before he crawled over me. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I suckled his neck and ear, listening to the growing sounds of his pleasure. Ben’s rhythm picked up, harder as well as faster, and I knew he wasn’t thinking about stopping.

  I pushed hard on his shoulders and squeezed him tighter with my legs to get his attention. “Ben, you promised.”

  Ben wasn’t listening. He continued to groan and coo my name while slamming into me so hard the creaking cots now crashed against the cement wall. Ben was lost in the moment and I wasn’t sure I could get him back. If we’d been together like this before the end, I would have savored the sex, screamed in ecstasy for everyone to hear, but not now, not here.