Breathless (Soulless, Heartless, Hopeless)

by Cerys du Lys

  Knocking on the heavy bronze inlaid, decorative entry door (that, honestly, looked completely out of place on a log cabin, in Evan's opinion), he waited for Alex's invitation inside. He hated this door, but he had to admit it was pretty sturdy; steel and strong. They'd looted it from Home Depot, too.

  "Evan?" Alex called from inside.

  "Yeah, I'm here," Evan said.

  "I didn't expect you to actually listen to me." Alex laughed. "Come in. The door's open."

  Evan clicked down the latch on the door handle, then pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  Alex was odd. He was older than Evan by about a decade or so, so maybe that was it. He'd spent time in the military, though he didn't like to talk about it too much. Some people thought it was trauma that kept him quiet, but Evan suspected it was more about bragging. Alex didn't like to brag, and he didn't like people to brag. He just wanted to get things done.

  Alex was the sort of person who was more than happy to lead you, to offer you advice and help you out, but he didn't want to show off in the process. Evan could appreciate that and he thought he understood it. Alex acted somewhat strict at times, but overall he was a fair person.

  "Go on, sit down. Let's chat," Alex said. He looked up from his paperwork long enough to gesture towards a chair across from him on the other side of the dining room table he used as a desk.

  Evan walked towards the chair. A spray of sunshine lit the log cabin and Alex kept a battery-powered lantern next to him, too. The room was still too dark, though. He pulled out the chair and sat down.

  "You know, we could get solar panels," Evan said. "Nothing fancy, but they'd do the trick for small things. We could get a real lamp in here and light the place up."

  Alex glanced up and stared at Evan. "This isn't permanent, Evan."

  "You keep saying that, and I know you mean it, but what are your plans, then?"

  "We'll figure something out for winter and we'll go from there. Who knows what the cold weather will do to those monsters? We might find ourselves with a prime opportunity to re-establish civilization back in our old homes. And then," Alex added, "if you want to arrange for solar panels, by all means."

  "They aren't monsters," Evan said.

  Alex sighed. "We've had this discussion before."

  "I know we have, but they aren't monsters. They aren't zombies, either. They're people. They need help."

  "Right, but from who? Are you going to help them, Alex? Do you have the equipment? You were an EMT and I get that you wanted to go to school to become a doctor or whatever, but it's not possible now. No amount of wishing and wanting can change that."

  Evan clenched his jaw. He hated these discussions. Why did Alex have to be like this? Realistic, Alex would have said, but Evan thought it was more like pessimism; giving up, not caring.

  "If we could help them, if they were sick like you say, I'd be all for it. But what can we do? We have no medicine. We don't know how to stop them. Should we restrain them? Catch them and put them in cages, Evan? We don't have enough people to do that and we don't have any safe place to house those things even if we did. We don't have the facilities to work on figuring out your cure, either."

  "So," Alex continued. "There's absolutely nothing we can do. The sooner you realize this, the better off we'll be. I'm not being unsympathetic, I'm being realistic. It's us or them, and I'm choosing us."

  The unspoken ultimatum hung between them. Who would Evan choose? Alex and the rest of the group, or the sick people?

  It wasn't a choice Evan could make, though, because there were more options than that. There was something he could do, no matter what Alex said. He didn't know what yet, but he'd figure it out. He'd already done something, hadn't he? Staying with Sadie, being close to her, talking with her. It wasn't medical help, but he thought he'd helped her.

  And he'd enjoyed it, too. It occurred to him that she'd helped him just as much as he'd helped her. Not in the same way, but in ways that he didn't think anyone else could have done.

  "Why don't you just pick a girl and settle down?" Alex asked. "There's enough of them that swoon over you here, so it shouldn't be too hard. Instead, you always run away. I mean, I appreciate you hunting as much as the next person, but there's alternatives. We could go a day or two with what we've got while you get some much needed R&R with one of the ladies, if you catch my drift?"

  "I'd rather not," Evan said.

  Everyone was so pushy here, so open. There weren't secrets and there wasn't privacy. People kept this away from the children, but once night fell that was it. Everyone bugged you, bothered you, asked questions, wanted the entire description of details. They weren't in high school anymore and this wasn't some spring break getaway. Alex said it helped morale, but Evan disagreed.

  "Suit yourself," Alex said. "Makes no difference to me. If you get so pent up that you end up losing your mind and fucking a zombie, don't say I didn't warn you."

  Evan glared at the ex-military man. "They aren't zombies."

  "Whoa there, killer." Alex laughed. "I get it. I do. I know you don't like to call them that, but it's the name everyone uses. That's not my fault."

  Alex reached under his chair and brought up a package of chocolate chip cookies. Putting them on the table between himself and Evan, he helped himself to one and nodded for Evan to feel free to do the same. Evan took a cookie and crunched into it hard, wanting to absolutely destroy the thing with his teeth.

  "Let's get down to business, then," Alex said, wiping crumbs from his lips. "What happened yesterday? Was it a group of them that came after you? Do you think the camp is safe, or should we look into relocating? This office will take some time to disassemble, but we can come back for it or build a new one if we need to. Tell me what's up."

  "It's nothing like that," Evan said. "I got lost, that's all."

  Alex furrowed his brow. "You? Lost?"

  "Happens to the best of us, doesn't it?"

  Apparently not, or at least it wasn't a good enough answer for Alex. "Elaborate, please."

  "I was tracking a moose in the woods," Evan lied. "A big one. Could've fed us for days, probably. You don't want to screw around with a moose, though. If I had a gun, maybe it would've been easier, but with my crossbow I needed a perfect shot or else I might've ended up with my gut run through by antlers before I could blink. I lost him, though, and then I lost myself."

  To put some truth in the story, he added, "I found a house in the woods and I stayed there overnight and early in the morning I found the highway, then figured out where I was and came back here."

  Alex nodded, listening. "A house? Anything good? Could we use it in the winter? Fireplace or anything like that?"

  Evan remembered the hearth in the living room of Sadie's home, just begging to be filled with firewood. The generator would be great in the winter, too. Find a truck and do gas runs back and forth to a gas station, fill it up and have wonderful heat and electricity during the cold months. The second floor looked like it had at least three or four bedrooms, but Evan hadn't checked. And the third floor might've had one or two more, but it was mostly slant-roofed attic space, so who knew?

  "Not really a house," Evan said. "More like a shack. I think hunters must have used it way back when. A cot and a shelf and some walls, a roof, and a door, but that's it. Nothing worth mentioning."

  Alex nodded, but he didn't seem like he was listening anymore. Taking up his pen, he jotted something down on a piece of paper, scribbled out a couple words, then wrote more.

  "I'm glad you're safe, at least," Alex said. "We'd be hardpressed to survive as good as we have without you. Don't go doing something stupid and getting yourself killed, alright?"

  Evan smirked. "Right. No promises, but I'll do what I can. We all set here, then?"

  "Yeah. Go get some food. Have sex. Play your games or whatever. I have some ideas, but I need to think them through a little more first. I'll call you when I need you."

  "Sounds good." Evan took one more cooki
e before leaving. He crunched it, contemplating, as he left Alex's office.

  That look on Alex's face; Evan didn't think it was good. Unfortunately he had no idea what Alex wrote down because the man had terrible handwriting and no one could read it. Likely he'd find out soon enough, though. During a meeting, or later in passing. Ask a few questions, figure something out.

  Evan didn't know why, but he had a bad feeling about it, though. The strange, curious look on Alex's face bothered him.

  ...

  Somehow I manage to get up and leave my home. It's my home, I know, even if it doesn't really belong to me. I brought Evan there, though, and he seemed impressed. I remember the way he smiled, the way he touched me. I remember how I felt when we kissed and cuddled close under the blankets of the bed. I definitely remember the feel of him pressed against me, inside of me, close and hot and blazing.

  I think, for all the oddness of it, that as I walk along the quiet country roads into the city that I must be smiling. I don't know why and I can't remember smiling before, but now I think I should.

  I arrive at the outskirts of the city and trudge inside. No matter if I smile or not, it's a very cold morning and I seem to have forgotten my jacket. Why didn't I bring boots? I have a cute pair back home in my apartment with fur-trim on the tops. Despite how they look, I know they're warm.

  I should have brought them. And my jacket. I don't know why I wore such a short-sleeved shirt, either. My body is cold but I can't shiver for some reason. I remember having been cold before, my teeth chattering, talkative, and my whole body shaking, but no matter how cold it is outside now, I can't.

  The bright, late summer sun shines down on me and I watch as a squirrel hops across the road up ahead. I stare at him, thinking, not sure what to make of that.

  Apparently, or at least this is what I gather from looking around, it's not all that cold outside. It's just me. My office manager makes fun of me sometimes, saying that I'm Sadie the Ice Queen, always cold, but he ignores the fact that it really is cold in our office. I always have to wear a long-sleeve shirt there and I bring a jacket sometimes just in case. It's not as bad in the winter, but I wish they'd turn the heat up just a little more sometimes.

  Where is my car? I need to get to work. Why am I walking? I look over my shoulder and see a road into the woods. This isn't the way I usually go to get to work. Why was I in the woods? I turn back around and look forward and then I see someone.

  A man shambles through the streets. He turns to look at me, too, but barely bothers to care. I see his face, pale and blue and sad. He hobbles across the street to a bench, then falls onto it. I watch as he flops down and buries his face in the slatted seat of the bus stop waiting area.

  Yes. I know now. I'm dead, except I'm not dead. No, I'm not dead at all. I remember a man who told me this. He put his warm, warm hands on my wrist and he smiled at me and he said, "It's faint. A little weak, but I can feel it. You're pulse is low, though. That's probably why your body temp is lower."

  He said my name, too, and I love him. It occurs to me that this is a silly reason to love someone. I don't actually think you can love someone for telling you that you have a pulse and saying your name, but I don't know if I care. I think I can still love him. At least, I like him a lot. I love him like a good friend. That's what it is, I decide.

  What else happened? I stand in the middle of the street, careless of oncoming traffic—except there is no oncoming traffic. The streets are dead, completely lacking a pulse. Cars, parked along the sidewalk, sit there, unused. They don't move on their own, of course, and no one looks willing to move them, either.

  I don't want to move, I want to stand here and think about this man that I like. What's his name? Oh. Evan.

  I put one hand on my wrist, feeling for my pulse with my fingers. It's slow to come and it takes more than a few seconds, but then I feel it. A slight thump, quiet and calm. Relaxing.

  My heart surges with feeling. I'm so happy and I don't even know why and it's dumb but I like it. I keep walking now, onwards, passing the man laying face-first on the bench. He doesn't bother to look at me, but I look at him and I smile.

  "It's alright," I say to him in passing.

  "What?" he asks, his voice sounding like gravel being crushed in a meat grinder.

  "It's alright."

  "Why—" he says. I know he wants to say more, but the words choke him up and he coughs loudly, clearing his throat and wheezing. "Why do you say that?" he asks. "Nothing is alright."

  I nod and listen to him. I used to agree with him. "We need to be patient," I say. Then, quietly, I add, "We're sick, I think. I don't know for sure, but I think a doctor is trying to help us. I have an appointment with one in a week and I need to go tell my manager because I think he'll forget, but I'm late for work because I've misplaced my car."

  The man stares at me, listless, still laying down. "Go away."

  I nod and start to leave. He's upset. I can understand, too. Everyone has bad days. I don't feel so good today, either, but I have a date tonight. With Evan. Does Evan have a car? Maybe he can bring me to my doctor's appointment next week. I should ask him, but is it too soon? This is only our first real date.

  I stumble through the streets, forgetting everything and wondering why I'm here. I have a date tonight, but why am I here now? I think it must be a holiday and I don't have work because a lot of stores look closed.

  The grocery store must be open, though, right? I'll grab a few things in case Evan wants to come back to my apartment tonight. A nice bottle of wine and...

  I think I'm blushing, but my cheeks still feel cold. It's the wind, I bet. A chill wind cooling my burning red cheeks.

  Should I? Should I get condoms at the store? Is that too forward? It's only our first date, afterall. Evan is really nice, though, and attractive. I vaguely imagine I've seen him with his shirt off and enjoyed the view.

  ...

  He shouldn't have asked Sadie on a date so soon. He didn't even know if he could get out of camp any time in the near future. What was he supposed to do, skip out and leave everyone again? Honestly, Evan wanted to do exactly that, just pack his things and go, but he knew he couldn't. First off, they needed him, and second, he was worried that if he left he wouldn't have a place to come back to.

  If he just randomly left, abandoned camp, would Alex care? Of course he would. The ex-military man might let him back easily enough, but at what cost? Evan didn't know, nor did he want to find out. No one willingly left here, anyways; it seemed safe enough and people liked safety. Alex made it quite evident that he didn't allow dissent or naysaying, too. If anyone left, that was it.

  He'd need to come up with some excuse to leave. Maybe hunting again? Maybe he could say he wanted to go find that hunter's shack and see how the hunting was there? It made sense, right? Except the shack was something he'd made up and if he went and returned with no meat again, that was probably the last of it.

  Evan thought about this while tossing some stuff into his duffel bag, thought about ways to leave without causing alarm. Maybe a fishing trip or maybe some alone time or maybe he could offer to scout around. Something, anything.

  Someone unzipped the flaps to his tent and stepped inside, zipping them back down behind them. Evan stared at his duffel bag, oblivious, until the woman came up behind him and touched his shoulder. He jumped, jolted, and spun around. Surprised, the woman fell back and Evan fell with her. She landed on his makeshift mattress on his cot and he landed atop her, face stuffed in her breasts.

  "Well, hello there," she said, a seductive purr. "Nice to see you, too, Evan."

  Evan lifted himself off of her and sighed. "What do you want, Desiree?"

  "You, of course."

  No beating around the bush with this one, was there? "I'm kind of busy at the moment," he said. "Do you mind?"

  "Yes, actually, I do. Take a break, Evan."

  He tried to go back to looking through his things, packing his bag, sorting stuff. Not to go anywher
e in particular, but just in case. He didn't want to seem too conspicuous, but if he planned on asking to go hunting again, he'd need supplies, right?

  None of that worked, though. Desiree crawled towards him and pressed against his back, wrapping her hands around his waist. Squeezing him tight, she pulled him back onto the cot. Evan didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to fight against her, so he fell. She took that opportunity to straddle his hips. Hands placed on his chest, holding him down, she gazed hard at him.

  "I won't tell," she said. "I'll be quiet, too. How about it? Just a quickie, Evan. If you don't want anything penetrative—" She said the word with a hard, harsh tone. "—I'd be happy to wrap my lips around your stiff problem."

  He didn't want that, but no matter what he wanted his body was reacting to her. Her back, arched, pushing out her breasts, giving him a show, hips gyrating and her body grinding against his crotch. Evan's cock twitched, trapped in his pants, and he winced. She started unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, revealing his boxers. Her hand slipped inside, touched his shaft, and her fingers wrapped around it, intent on pulling it out.

  Evan struggled against her, but she didn't seem willing to stop any time soon. He didn't want to do this, felt a little bad about it, but what choice did he have? He grabbed her around the hips and tossed her off of him, then fixed his underwear and zipped up his pants.

  "Desiree," he said. "No."

  "You want to," she said. "I know you do, Evan. You'll give in some day. You have to."

  It was some ridiculous idea everyone had, though he knew it had merit. No one really talked about it much, but they all understood it. If this was it, if they were the last vestiges of human civilization, then sometime, some day, they'd need to rebuild. Rebuilding involved a little more than just returning to homes or finding a new place to stay, though. Rebuilding meant regrowing the population, too. Sex, pregnancy, having children.

  It made sense in a way, but Evan thought the idea had a major flaw. They weren't the last vestiges of civilization, they were merely a piece of it that had escaped disaster. They could fix things, though. Hope wasn't lost, not by a long shot. They could cure people, revitalize them, rebuild society together, with everyone. The sick people in the city were survivors, too, whether anyone wanted to realize it or not.