Thinking of my own situation, I grew apprehensive. How long before Dave realizes I’m avoiding him? The sporadic, unwanted emotions I’d been feeling around him had intensified, becoming incessant and overwhelming. I’d been trying to keep my distance.
Why Dave? I wasn’t sure why his presence seemed to affect me so much, but the foreign feelings seemed to fit his mood far better than my own.
Are these his feelings? The thought was absurd.
Does he know he’s doing this? I wished I could ask him without sounding completely crazy. Shit, this is crazy!
“Zoe, are you okay? You seem…fidgety.” Sarah was looking at me with narrowed, very watchful eyes. She seemed to do that often, and I couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking.
“Sure, I just wish we were there already. I’m starting to feel claustrophobic,” I said nonchalantly as I reached for the map in the seat pocket in front of her.
Shrugging, Sarah started to open her book but sneezed all over my arm in the process.
Irritated, I looked at her. “Really, Sarah?”
“I’m sorry.” She sniffled and wiped my sleeve with hers.
Grossed out and annoyed, I pulled away from her, but she grabbed my wrist anyway. “I hardly think—” But before I could finish my sentence, I felt a surge of embarrassment warm my body, bringing a flush to my cheeks.
“Nice one, Sarah,” she chided herself, but I barely heard her; I was lost in my own thoughts.
It’s not just Dave. I suddenly felt nauseous. It’s me.
Date: December 16, 3:30 PM
From: Zoe Cartwright
To: Danielle O’Connor
Subject: Here at last!
Hey D,
It sounds like there’s a lot happening over there. I’m sorry you’ve had to see all those disgusting, horrible things. It’s like a nightmare we can’t wake up from. I hope being with Jason makes you feel safe enough to get some rest. You’ve been through a lot this past week. I’ve been pretty lucky so far, in terms of disgusting, horrible things. There’s so much snow on the ground that it’s hard to see much of anything. As much as I hate this weather, I’m grateful I’ve been spared seeing what’s underneath.
So that Air Force chick you mentioned sounds like a real gem. I guess personality isn’t much of a priority for Jason. Surprise. I know it’s probably hard, but try to ignore the bitchiness. It means nothing, I’m sure.
We finally arrived at Dave’s cabin today, thankfully. It’s actually quite homey. It reminds me of summer camp back in the day. It’s nothing fancy, just an old summer fishing spot his family used when they wanted to get out of the city. It’s too stormy outside to see much other than the bare, frozen trees and the snow blanketing the ground. But inside the cabin is cozy. I can tell Dave’s mom decorated the place. There’s an apple theme that seems to run throughout the house. It’s making me hungry thinking about it.
Hopefully we’ll be able to rest and recuperate before heading out again. I’m assuming we’ll leave tomorrow, but we haven’t really talked about it yet. I’m not looking forward to the drive to Sarah’s house. I think the close quarters worsen those feelings I’ve been experiencing. I felt them again today but with Sarah this time. It’s seriously so weird. I have no idea what’s going on. I’m wondering if I should say something to Sarah and Dave or if I should keep it to myself. I wouldn’t even know where to start. What a mess.
With the exception of the former occupants, it sounds like you’re staying in a fancy vacation home...I’m a little jealous. It’s snowing here...everywhere...still. It’s always snowing, and you know I hate being cold. It doesn’t help my mood much. I could really use some Dani time right about now…maybe a few mixed drinks on the beach too :) Why is time suddenly going by so slowly? It’s taking spring forever to get here. I’ll let you know when we take off or when we even have a plan. Be safe!
Hasta la vista,
Zoe
Standing in the cabin’s cramped bathroom, I looked in the mirror as I brushed my teeth and studied the heavily shadowed eyes that stared back at me. I look like…shit.
“Zoe!” Sarah screamed from the living room, and fear swept over me.
Spitting the contents of my mouth into the sink, I threw open the bathroom door. My heart pounded against my chest. “What is it!?” I rushed to her in alarm.
“Dave’s out th—” but before Sarah could finish, I heard Dave’s cries for help.
I grabbed the shotgun leaning against the wall and flung the front door open. I could barely hear Dave shouting through the angry howl of the wind. Running out into the frigid night, I headed in his direction.
“Lock the door!” I yelled back to Sarah. My voice was muffled by the blizzard. The cold hit me like razor blades, cutting through my clothes and into my skin with every move. “Dave! Where are you?” I squinted to see through the dense snowfall.
“Sammy!” Dave’s voice broke through the violent storm.
My muscles fatigued and my lungs burned as I struggled through the powdery snow, trying not to let it slow me down. I heard Dave’s voice right before stumbling upon him. I was shocked to see the form of a large animal pacing nearby. Unsure what to do, I shot the gun into the darkness. Its recoil knocked me back, and I lost my balance.
Squinting, I refocused my eyes just in time to see the creature running away and Dave crawling toward Sammy’s unmoving body.
“Dave!” I ran to his side as he tried to move. He was wounded; blood darkened the snow-covered ground beneath his body, and his legs dragged limply behind him.
“Sammy!” Dave was crying and struggling to get to his dog. Helping him up was impossible. He hit my hands away in hysteria, fighting against my efforts.
“Dave, you have to get inside,” I shouted. My body was achy and numb.
“Sammy!” he cried as he continued to fight against me.
I snapped. I slapped him across the face, desperate for him to focus, and yelled with all the energy and lung power my freezing body could afford. “Dammit, Dave! I’ve got to get you inside. I’ll come back for Sammy!”
He looked at me in horror.
“I need you to help me. Try to stand up!” I could barely feel my legs as I pulled his body toward mine.
He stared back with wide eyes. I could feel his anguish coursing through me.
“I’ll come back for him, I promise.”
Date: December 17, 4:00 AM
From: Zoe Cartwright
To: Danielle O’Connor
Subject: (No Subject)
D,
There’s so much to tell you, but I don’t have much time. Dave and Sammy were attacked by a mountain lion last night. Sammy saved Dave’s life but didn’t survive himself. Dave’s got gashes all over his legs, and he’s lost a lot of blood. I’m taking care of him the best I can, but he won’t let me do much. He’s drinking enough Jose Cuervo that I don’t think he needs any pain meds at this point; though he may never stop bleeding.
We did everything we could for Sammy, but nothing worked. Sarah’s freaking out. What am I supposed to do with a dog’s body? It’s not like I can bury him…the ground’s frozen. And what am I supposed to do about Dave’s injuries?
I wish you were here. You’d know what to say to him and what to do. I’ll write with an update soon.
Zoe
11
DANI
“Wow. Nice find, Cece,” John said as he looked around the posh hotel lobby. On such a boyish face his wide-eyed expression lent him a look of innocence. A beautiful deception—the twenty-one-year-old was about as innocent as Jason, but unlike Jason, John made sure everyone knew he was a devil in disguise.
Cece simpered and hopped onto the lobby’s ultra-modern, granite front desk. Contemporary decor appeared to be the hotel’s motif of choice, along with black and white everything.
Crossing her legs and lounging back suggestively, Cece said, “Oh my God, I know, right? This is where my prom was. Isn’t this place just sinful?” Her way
-too-smoldering gaze lingered on Jason before sliding over to John in the center of the lobby. John seized the unspoken invitation and sidled up to her.
Seriously, how obvious does she need to be? She might as well start stripping on the desk.
Shocked, I watched Jason walk toward the front desk…toward Cece. He’s falling for it? Jealousy, white hot rage, guilt, and self-loathing flared within me. I’d been experiencing that specific tangle of emotions for several days, always around Jason. I wanted him, though I knew I shouldn’t, and I hated Cece for having him. I also hated myself for desiring another man so soon after Cam’s death, even if he was the guy I’d pined for since I was a little girl.
Beside me, Chris snorted. I caught a faintly whispered, “fool,” but didn’t know if it was in reference to Cece, John, or Jason. Maybe it was for all three.
Fierce triumph filled Cece’s face as Jason neared her perch. The expression remained for about two seconds until Jason did an about-face to address the rest of us. Sulking, Cece hopped down and joined the edge of the group. I couldn’t hide my faint smirk.
“This place is huge. We need to set up base somewhere we can stay close together and easily defend ourselves, like the top-floor suites. Ky,” Jason directed his voice at the half-Japanese man, “go see if the elevators work.”
“Yes, Sir.” Ky looked to be around my age and followed the slightly older man’s orders easily. “They work,” he called and jogged back.
“Great. When we get to the suites, just drop your shit off. We’re going to search the place for food and anything else that might be useful. Keep an eye out for other people, and be ready.” The warning was unnecessary; like Jason and me, many of the others had run into hostile Crazies in Longview.
“Ky, you’re with me on this floor. Chris and Dani, pair up, you’re on this floor too. The rest of you—stick with your usual partners and divide the remaining floors between you.”
Cece glared smoldering daggers at Chris, Ky, and me, but I barely noticed. I’m supposed to be partners with Jason, not with Chris, I thought as rejection joined the tangle of emotions. My thoughts flickered back and forth between he doesn’t want me and I shouldn’t want him.
Belatedly, I realized I was assigned the only floor with two teams. Because I’m a worthless partner.
Everyone else could take care of themselves with their special I-can-kill-someone-a-million-different-ways-with-my-pinkie military training. I, on the other hand, could talk to any Italian, Russian, Gaelic, or Spanish-speaking people we happened upon. Somehow, I didn’t think my background in foreign languages would be a huge help traversing the devastated United States.
Irritated, I huffed into the elevator, huffed while it sped upwards, and huffed as I dropped my pack and duffel bag on the floor of the largest suite’s living room. At that point I had to stop huffing or risk hyperventilation.
Jack, who had been eagerly sniffing the sofa cushions—happily inhaling whatever had been left behind by other people’s butts—followed as I wandered back to the elevators to wait for Chris.
I have a gun, I thought. I can even use it now…sort of. It was holstered snugly under my coat, unfamiliar and heavy, making me feel lopsided.
With crossed arms, I glared at my blurry reflection in the brushed-metal door and wished there was something I could do, something I could contribute. And desperately, I wished that my inappropriate feelings for Jason would go away and that Cam’s voice would stop haunting me. “But I thought you loved me?”
“Shall we?” Chris asked behind me; Jason and Ky were just approaching as I faced the tall, blonde woman.
“Why not?” I grumbled.
The guys exchanged guarded glances while we all waited for the elevator, but Chris just stared ahead, her expression bland.
An electronic ‘ding’ announced the arrival of the elevator.
On the nine-floor ride down to the lobby, I stood in the elevator’s center and stared at the crack between the doors. Behind me there was an intake of breath, immediately followed by a thump and a whispered, “Ow!” from Jason.
“Shut up,” Chris hissed.
“Why? I was just going to ask—” Jason’s words were cut off by another thump, louder this time. If he’d been about to ask what was bothering me, I was glad that Chris had silenced him, however painful her methods may have been.
“I know. Shut up,” Chris told him.
With another ‘ding’, the elevator signaled the imminent door-opening, and I remained in the center, completely oblivious to my idiocy. I had experienced their super-coordinated elevator-exiting protocol on the ride up, had even participated by pancaking my body against the side wall in anticipation of an ambush. It made sense—there was no way to know what the doors would reveal when they opened. But, distracted by my mental flogging, I stood in the dead-center of the elevator and waited.
A moment before the doors slid open, Jason yanked me behind him and held me against the wall. My stupid, traitorous body hummed with pleasure everywhere it touched his. Around me, all my companions pressed themselves against the elevator’s metallic walls with weapons at the ready. When the lobby was revealed and nobody attacked, they all relaxed.
I’m such an idiot. Disgusted with my body’s reaction as well as my stupidity, I skittered away from Jason and grumbled, “Come on, Chris, let’s go search for things. I can at least do that without screwing up.” I marched out of the elevator with Jack growling at my side. Lately, he seemed to have developed the inexplicable ability to match his mood to my own. Good boy.
After several dozen paces, I slowed and looked around at the deserted hotel—I needed a plan. The lobby, delightfully absent of dead people, was scattered with abandoned luggage racks that easily could’ve doubled as pieces of postmodern art. I grabbed one, casting it as a large shopping cart, and wandered into the open-plan lounge. The bar seemed like a great place to start.
At the sound of another cart smoothly rolling closer, I quickly ducked behind the sleek black bar. It had to be Chris. She would make me talk now that we were away from the guys. Though I knew hiding wouldn’t stop the determined woman, I couldn’t bring myself to stand.
The muffled scrape of chair legs on hardwood and the creak of leather told me she was sitting on one of the nearby bar stools. “What’s wrong, Dani?”
“Nothing. I’m fine,” I lied weakly.
“Right. What’s your full name?” Chris asked.
Surprised, I answered instantly and completely, “Danielle Ceara O’Connor.”
With another creak Chris was off the stool, leaning over the bar. Her shadow seemed to glare at me from the rubber-matted floor a foot away. “DANIELLE CEARA O’CONNOR, you will tell me what’s wrong RIGHT NOW!”
“Um…I…um,” I stuttered, shocked by Chris’s ability to capture my grandma’s commanding, you’re-in-deep-shit tone. All she needed was an Irish accent, and she’d be a dead ringer.
Standing, I took a deep breath and answered, “Well…I’m not really sure.” As I spoke, I made my way around the bar to sit on the stool beside hers.
“It’s like everything’s been building up to this feeling of…of…I don’t know. Helplessness. Or maybe uselessness. And now Jason doesn’t want to be my partner…not that I mind being with you.” The relentless avalanche of words flowed out as I rubbed Jack’s ears; he’d wedged himself between our bar stools.
“I can’t do anything. Nothing useful to surviving this…” I paused and gestured around wildly. “I can’t defend myself. I just end up being a distraction. And this…” I pulled the gun from inside my coat. “What good is this if someone’s close to me? And what if I can’t even use it, if I’m too afraid? I’m not surprised he doesn’t want me as his partner anymore. Once was enough. Cam should’ve been the one to survive; he could’ve at least cooked for everyone. Hell, when I have food duty, I might accidentally poison everyone.”
With placating amusement, Chris said, “I’m sure you’re not that bad.”
“No
,” I said adamantly. “I am. And what’s so frustrating is that you and Jason work so hard to keep me safe, nursing me back to health, protecting me…I mean, Jason faced off with a group crazy men! And why? I don’t contribute anything.
“And I…I’m a bad person. I have these feelings, these thoughts I really shouldn’t be having. I really did love Cam, I swear it, but…” By the time I trailed off, my gestures had become as despondent as my tone, my hands finally settling on the bar.
“Dani, listen to me.” Chris grasped my wrist firmly and captured my gaze. “You are not useless. You have great ideas. You thought of stocking up on the backpacking equipment—getting all that stuff could end up saving our lives.
“And those feelings you’re having are perfectly normal. Cam would want you to move on, to be happy. Things happen at a different pace in times like these. It doesn’t make you a bad person. And…well…you do…I don’t know…something to Jason. Something good.”
I scoffed.
“You do,” Chris urged. “You make him seem more human and less like…I don’t know…like someone who believes in his own divinity. I chose to follow him off-base because I knew he was a good man and a good leader, but I’d never seen him really laugh or get very angry, or God, cry until we found you. He’s just different—better—when you’re around.”
I searched Chris’s clear, determined blue eyes and found only truth, but I couldn’t believe it. “It’s nothing like that,” I dismissed, needing to diminish the effect her words were having on me. “I just remind him of his past. Besides, he’s always avoiding me…always going off with Cece.”
Chris snorted. “Yeah…but that’s just so he can get his rocks off.”
I put on a wry grin, masking the sudden, wrenching pain. My unwanted jealousy was really starting to get on my nerves. Standing, I rounded the bar again, searching in earnest. A jar of maraschino cherries and several of blue cheese-stuffed olives were my first finds. A couple bottles of Dom Perignon from the wine fridge were my second.
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