by David Rogers
Standing on the road in front of the house, just in front of where the base of the stairs had been before her demolition efforts, was Austin. A late model Toyota Corolla was parked behind him, dusty but otherwise in good shape. His clothes were less together – stained badly enough for her to see, even from up here, even though they were black – with wear and tear that told of heavy use and rough living. His right forearm was bandaged, and she saw another peeking through a rip in his pants on his left thigh.
His MP5 was nowhere to be seen, and neither was the shotgun he’d taken from the dead mechanic near Ocala; but he still had two pistols holstered on his belt and gear webbing, along with his knife. And he’d added to his arsenal. In his left hand was a metal baseball bat, just like the one she’d used to get herself out of her house back in Lawrenceville, and from her wrecked car over to Dennis’ house. His was blood stained in a way that told her it had been used for more than just a crutch though. And dangling from a loop on his right side was an axe that she recognized from Brett’s work as a standard fire axe; with a heavy spike balancing the blade on the head.
Jessica took it all in over a second that felt like an eternity, then lifted her gaze to his face and met his eyes. He looked tired, but there was that mischievous spark in the back of his gaze that she’d grown so fond of. Clever and ready to laugh, but backed with resilient determination that was ready to tackle anything.
At that moment, she realized how much she’d missed him. More than what he could do, what he could help with; more than what he knew and could explain. And more than the surety and safety he helped provide for Candice, and herself. Those, she realized in that instant, were excuses she’d been using to distract herself from what she really felt.
“I . . .” she started to say, but he smiled gently as her voice faltered.
“I know.” he said simply.
Abruptly, she found herself working to keep from bursting into tears. She’d done a lot to find and secure this house, and was ready to keep going to get through the South Florida winter and into spring on the other side of that, keeping Candice healthy and alive . . . but as she stood gazing down at him, she realized she’d missed Austin fiercely. All the effort she’d been expending had just been things she did to keep herself from moping too much over his absence . . . and now that he was here . . .
“Nice place.” Austin said as she fought against breaking down. “I like what you’ve done with it. Looks really secure.”
“Austin!” Candice exclaimed, stepping out from behind Jessica and leaning excitedly against the porch railing.
“Hey there girlie-girl. You behaving for mom?”
“Yes.”
“Hmmm, guess I’ll have to take that one on faith.” he said, contorting his face into an overly dramatic expression of reluctant doubt.
Candice giggled down at him. “You’re late. Where have you been?”
“Late?”
“Yeah, late. Where have you been?”
“Looking for you two ladies.”
“No, I mean, before that. We waited for you on the interstate for a couple of days, but you never came.”
“Ah, that.” he said, shrugging lightly like it was nothing. “I had to get away from all those zombies I had following me.”
“I was – we were worried sick.” Jessica said, finally finding her voice.
“Sorry. It just took some doing to extract myself from Ocala. I kept getting pushed north until I finally found a vehicle and was able to break contact. Turns out there was a major refugee camp there that went bad and fueled a fresh outbreak. And we were only on the edge of it; the east side of the city was a lot worse.”
“Yeah, we know.” Candice said.
“How?”
“We ran into a woman who had been in Ocala. She filled in a few blanks for me.” Jessica said, skipping the rest of that particular story.
“Well, how do I come up? I doubt you two have been climbing ropes.”
“We’ve got a ladder.” Candice said, starting to turn. “Hang on, I’ll get it down.”
“Wait, I’ll take care of it.” Jessica said quickly. She was eager to seize the chance to get out of sight, so she could try and steady herself.
“Okay. Where’d you get the car Austin?” Candice asked.
“Found it on the outskirts of Ocala, still had the keys in it and everything.” he answered as Jessica went into the house.
“How long have you been looking for us?” Candice was focused on Austin, and didn’t notice when Jessica paused inside to take several deep breaths and wring her hands in relief. His answer was lost in the clicking and rolling of the winch as Jessica finally started turning it. She had a fairly good idea how much slack was needed in the rope, but it still took a minute to get it unwound. And, when she dragged the ladder out onto the porch while acting calm, she saw she had loosened at least an extra yard that wasn’t needed.
“What’s the ladder hooked up to?” Austin asked when she reappeared with it at the edge of the porch.
“Rope, on a winch.” she said. “Hang on, I let too much out and need to tighten it some. Candice, when I tell you, push the ladder over the edge. And be careful about how you do it, you hear me?”
“Yes mom.” Candice said, her good cheer at Austin’s arrival overwhelming her usual tone of tolerant patience at one of Jessica’s mom-isms. Jessica, though, was still concerned about Candice managing to fall off the porch if the girl wasn’t careful. And if she let her legs get tangled up in the ladder or the rope when it went over the edge, Candice could easily be taken for a ride that could kill.
Jessica tightened the winch up some, then looked out the open door at her daughter; confirming Candice was standing clear of the ladder and its rope. “Okay, push it off.”
The rope went tight as the ladder slid off, and Jessica waited for it to stabilize its swinging before she unwound it again just until she saw the rope go slack once more. When she went back out on the porch, she saw Austin had already steadied the base of the ladder and had it leaning properly and ready to be used.
“Coming up.” he said, starting to climb. The bat in his hand made clinking sounds as it contacted the ladder, but it didn’t seem to slow him as he ascended. Jessica made way for him to climb off the rungs to the porch at the top, then stepped back again as she realized she’d forgotten how incredibly tall he was. He towered over her, and rendered Candice like a doll.
“Oh, I see, you rigged up a block-and-tackle.” he said, glancing at the winch and pulley arrangement bolted to the living room floor.
“Is that what it’s called?” Jessica said, suddenly embarrassed.
“Yeah, I think so. Clever.”
“It works.” she said with a shrug.
“And that’s all that matters.” he agreed, smiling.
Jessica gestured vaguely into the house. “We were just about to fool around with some dinner. Hungry?”
“You know me.”
“Guess that means I’ll have to step up my pantry packing efforts.” she chuckled.
“I’m sure we can work something out.” he grinned. “What are you having?”
“I think we’d decided on bread and soup.”
“Hmmm, I might be able to help out with that. I did some scavenging along the way while I was looking for you, and it just so happens I’ve got some canned ham and canned cheese in the car.”
“Cheese in a can?” Candice asked.
“Yup.”
“I’ve never heard of that.”
“Well, it’s a thing.” Austin told her. “I found some, I tried it, and it’s real cheese.”
“Cool.”
“So, ham and cheese sandwiches with this bread of yours?” he asked. “Actually, wait a minute; where’d you find bread?”
“We’re going to make some.” Candice explained. “Mom found a recipe.”
“Go mom.” Austin grinned.
“I guess we’ll have to put some stew or something on so the rest of the ham keeps
until morning.” Jessica said, trying to keep her emotions under control by focusing on the task of food logistics. She’d found several cookbooks, and one of them discussed how maintaining heat on food was a way to preserve it. Stew or soup was ideal; it wouldn’t dry out and become inedible as long as it didn’t boil. A pot that simmered all night, and even through the next day, was safe to eat. “Unless the can’s a lot smaller than I bet it is.”
“They’re two pound hams, so I guess that’s probably the best way to avoid wasting any.”
“Not a problem.”
“You seem to be doing okay.” Austin said, leaning the bat against the wall next to the door. “Have any problems making it down here?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
He nodded at her with a smile. “See, you didn’t even need me.”
“And you,” Jessica said, diverting her eyes to his tattered clothes as she fought to keep from blushing, “showing up here looking like this. You’re lucky I brought the rest of your clothes.”
“Lucky?”
“Yes, lucky.” she said, gesturing at the holes and rips in his black outfit. “You look like you’ve been through hell. It’ll take a while to get that outfit washed and mended.”
“I can do it.”
“No, I’ve been making a list of things that need doing, and there’s a lot of other stuff I’ll be happy to leave to you.”
Austin grinned. “I just got here and you’ve already got a set of honey-do items for me?”
Now Jessica did blush, but she met his gaze as steadily as she could manage while her cheeks heated. “Admit it, you like it when I boss you around.”
“It’s nice not being in charge.” Austin said, moving closer. “Which reminds me, I found something that made me think of you.”
“What’s that?”
He reached behind himself, under his shirt, and pulled out a big paper bound book from the back of his belt. It had been through a lot – showing signs of water damage, heavy creasing, and a good bit of tattering – but was more or less intact. He held it up, and she blinked before bursting out laughing when she read the words on the well-worn and wrinkled cover.
“Haircutting for dummies?” Jessica giggled. “Seriously?”
“You said you wanted someone to learn how to cut hair so yours wasn’t screwed up all the time.”
“Where on Earth did you find that?”
“Wal-Mart after I got away from Ocala. I needed some supplies, and saw this while I was pulling things together. Couldn’t help myself.”
“Now you’re out of excuses.” she told him.
“Yes ma’am.” he grinned.
Jessica realized she was on the verge of breaking down again. The thought that, for the first time in what seemed like forever, it was because of how happy she was – instead of yet another intense morass of pain and sorrow sucking her down into a pit of despair because of yet another catastrophe – made it harder as she tried to keep control. It was so stupid, such a little thing . . . but
“So, why don’t you go clean up, while Candice and I take a whack at that bread recipe of mine. Then we can catch up on our collective adventures.” she said brightly, trying to channel her emotions into something brisk and matter-of-fact as a buffer against the flood that threatened to erupt from her.
Austin moved closer still, so she now had to tip her head back to keep sight of his face and eyes, and lowered his voice a little. “One thing first.”
“What’s that?”
“Something I promised myself I’d tell you when I got here.”
Jessica blinked twice, rapidly, and found herself leaning in against him so there wasn’t any more space between them. Her hands went around his neck, and his were slipping around her waist. As she looked up at him, she realized she’d never found a situation where two people who hadn’t had a real, proper shower in months so sexy.
“I—” he began, but she put two fingers against his lips to stop him.
“I know.” And she went up on her tiptoes to kiss him.
# # #
Afterword
Not a lot to say about this one. It just occurred to me that drama doesn’t have to involve Earth shattering situations all the time. Not every plot needs to rely on saving the entire world, or racing the clock before everyone dies. Sometimes, the motivation for the characters can be as simple as “Winter is coming.”
Thanks for reading. I really hope you enjoyed it.
David Rogers
Atlanta, Georgia
2014
ps: the best way you can get more books from me is to help spread the word. Please, return to the e-tailer site and leave a review. This only takes you a moment, but will pay immense dividends in helping me write more stories. It really does make that much of a difference. The reviews help modify how visible the book is, and affect what kinds of advertising I can use. Simply put, the more, the better. Thanks again.
Also by David Rogers
Apocalypse Atlanta – We’ve all seen it on the news every year. A hurricane, a tornado, a tsunami, a flood. A BAD thing happens, and all hell breaks loose.
Some people are caught in the chaos, others are victims, some run, others wait for help, most sit at home watching for everything to be fixed for them, and a few dive in to do whatever they can.
The thing about a zombie apocalypse is whether or not you’re in that initial wave of people who get hungry and start snacking. And where you are as few turn to many. As we all know, when it’s zombies, soon many turns to most. And it’s over when most become all.
Apocalypse Atlanta follows three people as the zombies start eating and bring the world down around them a bite at a time.
One is a retired Marine. The second is a widowed single mother. And the third is a biker.
Are there right or wrong answers when zombies are involved? Do things like morality and decency matter? Is it better to be alive to feel guilty, or dead an honorable? Who decides who’s right or wrong when a single mistake can make you dinner for a ravenous horde of the undead?
The story that started it all, the preceding book to Apocalypse Aftermath and Apocalypse Asunder.
http://www.amazon.com/Apocalypse-Atlanta/dp/B00D538D6M/
Apocalypse Aftermath – the follow-up to Apocalypse Atlanta, continuing the stories of Peter, Jessica, and Darryl.
When an apocalypse starts, there's always running and screaming. Sooner or later, most of that starts to fade; if only because most of the runners and screamers are dead. Once the end of the world gets going in earnest, the sprint becomes a marathon. You can’t run all the time, can you?
Saving someone is easy. Helping them is what's hard. Heroes happen all the time. After those moments when you become someone's saviour, what comes next? One day turns to two, and then the days are a week. Time keeps ticking by, and if you're going to keep from being ground beneath the clock’s relentless push, you've got to find the essentials for life. Food, water, shelter, safety. Everything else is negotiable.
Apocalypse Aftermath picks up where Apocalypse Atlanta leaves off; following three people, each going in three different directions, all trying to survive the end of the world. The same question faces Peter, Jessica, and Darryl; what’s next? What’s a safe path to follow, one that doesn’t place them and those they’re with at risk of becoming a meal for the zombies? What’s the right move, and how do they see it for what it is in time to act? Which way is the right way?
Because whether you’re an aging retired Marine, a widowed single mother, or a biker who bounces, the problem is the same.
Zombies.
http://www.amazon.com/Apocalypse-Aftermath/dp/B00KKB43E8
Bite Sized Apocalypse – an anthology of five short stories set in the universe of Apocalypse Atlanta. The common thread are the zombies. Each story looks at a different little slice of the apocalypse as it gets going for those particular characters. Little bite-sized chunks of it.
Is that a dinner bell I hear?
; http://www.amazon.com/Bite-Sized-Apocalypse/dp/B00DUFWNKW/
The five stories in Bite Sized Apocalypse are also available individually.
Better to be Lucky – You've thought about it. What would the first few hours of a zombie apocalypse be like? For one company of military police, it was like almost any other job in the service. Boredom with flashes of sheer, howling terror.
http://www.amazon.com/Better-be-Lucky/dp/B00DENSDNG/
Marching through the Apocalypse – Many things might be happening when a zombie apocalypse begins. For some of the most genre aware people in Atlanta, their survival wasn't so much who or where they were, but rather what they were wearing when people started getting hungry.
http://www.amazon.com/Marching-through-Apocalypse/dp/B00DEKA1IY/
There goes the Weekend – A bail bondsman's, er . . . woman's, day can be boring or interesting. Boring can be profitable, and interesting can be fun. But there is such a thing as too much fun. When Darla goes looking for a wife beater right when the zombie apocalypse kicks off, there goes the weekend.
http://www.amazon.com/There-goes-Weekend/dp/B00DSGFGBQ/
Smoke ‘em if you’ve got ‘em – Life is about rules. Lots of rules. But when zombies start eating people, the rules change.
http://www.amazon.com/Smoke-youve-got/dp/B00DTI8S7C/
A little me time – Every year, Lloyd spends a week hiking in the North Georgia mountains. This year, while he's getting away from it all, everything goes straight to hell.
www.amazon.com/little-me-time/dp/B00DR5IPF2/
Individual short stories
You are what you eat – When a zombie apocalypse starts, everyone has problems. Well, everyone who’s not a zombie I guess. For one student in a small South Georgia town, her problem was zombies don’t respect dietary restrictions.
