I have a feeling that tonight is going to be pretty wild, especially since we’ve barely been here for an hour and most of us are already nursing open wine bottles (notice my use of “us”). I’m currently working on my second large glass of Merlot and feeling quite happy about it.
To answer your question about Jason’s strategy, he really does have a good reason for the slow pace. I guess he made an agreement with everyone who came along, thinking numbers would bring safety. He doesn’t want to split us up. He says we’d all be too vulnerable then, especially at night. At least that’s his reasoning.
On a totally different subject, I keep dreaming of Cam. Maybe nightmaring is a better word. He’s always dead, and he’s always rotting, but he’s still talking to me. Still touching me. It’s HORRIBLE. He forces me to kiss him and asks why I don’t want to be with him, why I left him. But last night it was weird...there was another man. He was tall, but that was all I could see because he was sort of hidden. The thing is, when he showed up, Cam disappeared. Crazy, huh?
Okay, I told myself that it wasn’t that big of a deal and that I wouldn’t whine to you, but I HAVE to complain about Cece. Again. You see, I found her and Jason a little while ago in the winery. They were...doing things. Things I REALLY didn’t want to see. I ran out of there like a five-year-old girl with a monster in her closet. But not before Jason saw me.
Oh, um...gotta go. I’ll continue later if I can...
Dani
I inched down the creaky stairs. Twice, the sound of shattering glass gave me pause during the descent. Jack’s taut body leaned against my leg, and he whined softly with each step. Three voices grew discernible from the room at the bottom of the stairs—Jason, Hunter, and Cece.
“She needs to leave…she’s a hazard. This is our group, and she’s not one of us,” Cece stated heatedly.
Hunter reasoned, “C’mon, Cece, you can’t really blame her for—”
“Of course I can!” she interrupted, her outburst slurred. “Can’t you see it? She ruined everything! A day earlier and Kasey’d still be alive! Dani,” my name was spat out like a curse, “made us wait. She made us too late! She killed my sister!”
Jason’s even voice came next. “Cece, calm the fuck down. You chose—”
“Jason,” I interrupted, exiting the stairwell with my dog.
Jason held my gaze with unexpected emotion: worry and guilt. It took minimal consideration to understand that he hadn’t wanted me to overhear the exchange. He’d have kept the incident from me completely if he’d had his way. I wished he’d stop sheltering me like the little girl he’d once known. She was gone.
“If you have a problem with me, talk to me,” I told Cece, who looked smug…not to mention a little unsteady on her feet.
“Talk to you? Fine,” Cece seethed. “You are the reason my sister was murdered. If we’d gotten to Portland a day sooner, she’d still be alive. With me. But you killed her because you’re weak. You couldn’t get over your stupid dead boyfriend, so we all had to stay and wait for poor little you to get better. WELL GUESS WHAT?! YOUR STUPID FUCKING WEAKNESS KILLED MY SISTER! YOU KILLED HER, AND I’D GIVE ANYTHING FOR YOU TO BE DEAD INSTEAD!”
Stunned, I let my fiery Irish side kick in and forfeited control of my mouth. “At least I mourned my dead. You really looked like the grieving sister while you had your hand down Jason’s pants out in the winery! I might be weak, but at least I’m not a slut. Your sister dies, and all you can think about is the next guy you’re gonna bang. You disgust me.”
Cece took several steps closer and hissed, “bitch,” right before she slapped me across the face. Hard.
I covered my stinging cheek with one hand as Jason maneuvered between us, attempting to block the irate woman from reaching me again. I worked my jaw slowly, surprised by how badly it hurt.
“Back the fuck off!” Jason growled at Cece, his voice slicing through the tense atmosphere like a blade.
She backed up and continued her tirade. “You know what? Everyone else’ll blame you too. Know why? Because it’s your fault. All the murders and suicides…we could’ve saved them if we’d been quicker, if we hadn’t waited for you. You should just leave!”
I stepped out from Jason’s protective barrier. “I’m sure you’re used to getting whatever you want,” I told Cece. Like Jason, I thought and glanced angrily at the man trying to protect me. “You think I’ll just bow out and let you walk all over me. Well you can go to hell. I’m sure you’re expected.”
Straight-backed and only a little hurried, I ascended the stairs to my room. Once I was alone, shielded by the closed door, I began to cry.
Date: December 18, 4:30 PM
From: Danielle O’Connor
To: Zoe Cartwright
Subject: Am I a Murderer?
Zo,
Sorry I had to end that last email so abruptly. There was an incident downstairs. Cece was raging about how I needed to leave the group because I caused the death of her sister. You see, everyone had to stay in Seattle longer than planned. Because of me…because it took me a few days to recuperate…and Cece’s sister was murdered only a day or two before we found her. Jason said it was brutal, almost impossible to look at. If they hadn’t waited around for me to regain my strength, Cece might’ve made it to her sister in time to prevent the murder.
So now I sit here, writing to you and watching Jack’s worried doggy face as he whimpers at me. Oddly, I feel like he’s telling me, “bite, attack, kill,” not, “I feel sad.” Now why would I think that?
I feel like crap. I’m going to finish this bottle of wine and then try to fall asleep. Hopefully I won’t dream for once.
Dani
14
ZOE
Still shaking from the cold, I wrapped the army-green, wool blanket more tightly around me. As I watched our new military acquaintances settle in for the evening, I leaned against the arm of the shabby, apple-red loveseat and soaked up the heat from the fire. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders—a weight I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying. We were no longer alone.
Since their arrival, the group of three had transformed our kitchen into a makeshift command post. There was something comforting about their presence. They hustled around like bees readying the hive for a queen, rattling off commands and acronyms I didn’t understand. They seemed capable and in control, a façade I struggled to maintain.
“The signal’s too spotty—I can’t hold a connection,” Biggs announced as he searched for a specific radio frequency. He shifted from one computer screen to another fluidly, like he was performing a dance he’d practiced a thousand times. I envied him; he had a sense of purpose, a duty to uphold, and he did so without hesitation. They all did.
“Hopefully it’s just the storm. We’ll have to wait until it passes. Keep it on this channel. If someone tries to communicate from Fort Knox again, I want to know about it,” Lieutenant Sanchez said, her voice calm and collected. She was busy jotting down notes, sketching on maps, and strategizing for their departure in only a day’s time.
Biggs’s fingers pecked at a keyboard efficiently. “I’ll check the satellite again. Maybe the storm will pass sooner than we thought.”
“Here,” a pleasant, confident voice said, pulling me from my thoughts. I looked up to see Harper’s outreached hand, offering me a cup of tea. He smelled of rubbing alcohol and mint.
“Thanks.” I nodded at him gratefully and accepted the steaming cup with numb hands. The hot ceramic stung my frozen fingers, but the smell of chamomile tea conjured thoughts of Grams, making my discomfort bearable.
“Are you warming up?” Harper’s smile was kind and sincere as he stood across from me and sipped from his own mug. Shaking his head, he sat down on the edge of the couch opposite mine. “I still can’t believe you heard us outside.”
“I didn’t hear you. Dave did, miraculously,” I scoffed, thinking of Dave’s drunken state. I sipped the scalding liquid. It burned when it touched my lips, but I we
lcomed the heat as it warmed my body from the inside out.
“I was surprised to see you outside with so little on.” Harper’s eyes surveyed my now blanket-covered body. “We thought you were crazy at first.” He winked and leaned back, relaxing for the first time since their arrival.
My heart skipped a beat as I considered the strange sensations I’d been experiencing. Crazy. If you only knew…
“Yeah, well, I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly. But I’m getting warm now, finally.” I closed my eyes, appreciating the heat that licked up the side of my face from the fire. The chill in my bones was smothered for the time being, only to be replaced with exhaustion.
Sarah loudly repositioned herself on the couch as she realized Harper was sitting beside her.
“You’re a fast reader,” Harper observed, looking at a stack of books on the coffee table. A smirk formed on his face as he read the titles…one love story after another.
“Yeah.” She smiled, but didn’t look away from her novel.
“Thanks for the great dinner by the way. I can’t remember the last time I had ravioli.” Harper was trying to strike up a conversation with Sarah, but she continued reading with a dismissive nod.
“It’s her sixth book this week,” I explained. “She gets sucked in. It’s like she suddenly has a passion for reading or something.” I looked at my friend, who was nestled against the arm of the couch. “What are you reading this time?”
“Science-Fiction. Apocalyptic, ironically,” she clarified absentmindedly. Her eyes focused on the end of a sentence, and then she turned the page.
“So you’re a book lover.” Harper seemed interested, as if he’d found some common ground. I wondered if he was attracted to her. It wouldn’t be surprising—her brown eyes were glittering in the glow from the fire, and her curly hair was a perfect tangle of seductive femininity.
“Book lover?” she practically snorted. “Not until recently. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever read this much in my life.”
“Well, a lot’s happened in the last few weeks. We all cope with things in different ways. Maybe your way is reading—escaping to a world different from your own. Although apocalyptic stories seem to defeat the purpose.” Harper smirked, looking over at me.
“And how is it you all find yourselves here, in our seemingly abandoned neck of the woods?” I asked. We were seven miles from town and at least a mile from any neighboring properties.
With a sigh, Harper took a sip of coffee and thought for a moment. “We’ve been trying to stay away from heavily populated areas. It’s safer that way…,” he trailed off. He stared into the flickering flames until something clanging in the kitchen brought him out of his daydream. Glancing at me, he asked, “What about you, Zoe? How are you doing with all this?”
“Oh, you mean between the end of the world, people I care about dying, Crazies, animal attacks, Sammy dying, and my missing family?” I was being dramatic, my tone borderline hysterical. I shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know; I haven’t had much time to think about it,” I joked bitterly, curling deeper into my spot on the couch.
“You and Dave haven’t been getting along very well,” Sarah chimed in from the corner of the couch.
She chooses now to say something? And what’s that have to do with anything anyways?
“What’s going on with you two?” Her eyebrows rose in curiosity.
I wanted to reach over and wring her neck for providing Harper the opportunity to ask me unwelcome questions, but I instinctively knew she’d meant no harm. “It’s complicated. But I think it’s safe to say he’s realizing we’re better as…friends.” If that’s even what we are.
My eyes darted to my captive audience, hoping they’d be satisfied with such a vague explanation. Sarah seemed unconcerned with my answer, but Harper’s grin had grown wide and knowing.
“Sounds like a lot’s been going on lately,” Harper observed. “Maybe you could use a distraction.”
His eyes fixed upon me like a predator’s on delectable prey. Is he referring to friendship or sex? He couldn’t possibly mean sex…
Harper was hot, but it was ridiculous to think he’d proposition me in front of other people. Rationality vanished as my eyes inspected every inch of him, starting with his tanned skin and muscular build—he definitely intrigued me. Harper was friendly and fun, a change I welcomed. Unlike Sanchez and Biggs, whose noses were buried deep in their work, he was personable, taking the time to get to know us. His amiable persona made it easy to forget he was military trained and could probably kill someone with his bare hands. Not all military men are rough around the edges like Jason, I reminded myself.
“A distraction?” I asked, needing clarification before I lost myself in thought.
“Yeah, a distraction.” His dark eyebrows danced over his green eyes. There was no misinterpreting his meaning. Sex. Definitely sex.
Biggs snorted as he sat at the kitchen table behind Sarah, shaking his head. “You’ll have to excuse Harper. He isn’t always as smooth as he thinks he is.”
“I’m not trying to be smooth. I’m being honest, realistic, human…take your pick,” Harper retorted. “I put myself out there with no expectations, no false pretenses. If she’s interested, fun times ahead, and if not, that’s fine too. Life’s too short to pussyfoot around.”
Shocked by the confirmation that I had just been solicited in front of the others, I looked back into the inquiring eyes of my new, very forward friend. I cleared my throat, seriously considering his pitch and trying to find the right words to respond. “Well, your um…offer is very flattering. I’ll keep it in mind.”
Harper studied me for a moment, assessing my hesitation. “You do that.” Winking again, he finished off the contents of his mug and stood. “I think you and I will get along just fine, Baby Girl.”
With a thud, Biggs dropped his backpack onto the ground beside me, and Sarah’s bright eyes glanced up at him. Eager to refocus everyone’s attention, I quickly asked, “What about you Biggs? Do you like reading as much as Sarah here?”
Indifferent to my smart ass tone, he said thoughtfully, “I do, actually. But, I don’t get to read as much as I’d like, unfortunately. Since this—” he searched for the word.
“Ending,” Sarah chimed in again.
“What?” Biggs looked at her curiously.
“The Ending. This is the ending of the world as we know it. I mean, it’s literal I guess, but it makes sense.”
“Yeah, I guess it does. Well, since this ‘Ending’ I haven’t had any free time to read.”
I gestured to the stack of novels on the table. “I’m sure you can borrow one of Sarah’s books,” I suggested. “She won’t mind.”
Harper returned with his mug refilled. Again studying the titles on the spines, he chuckled. “Yeah man, there are some romances in there. You could probably learn a thing or two.” He looked from Sarah to Biggs and shook his head when he noticed his friend gazing intently at the brown-haired beauty.
“Sure you can. I’m not sure what you like to read, but they aren’t all romances.” Sarah’s eyes flicked indignantly to Harper before returning to Biggs. “You’re welcome to borrow any of them,” she offered. As Biggs bent over to look through the pile, I sat back contentedly and watched.
There was a sense of hope and excitement coursing through the room as a silent conversation passed between the soldier and my friend. It was a nice diversion.
“Anyway,” Harper said, reclaiming his spot on the couch beside Sarah. “I took a look at Dave’s legs. He’s doing really well, Zoe. I think you did a great job dressing his wounds.” He sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
I set down my tea. The palms of my hands were sweaty from the warm mug. “I couldn’t have done it without Sarah’s help. That girl has a way with gauze that I’ll never have.”
“Don’t let her fool you. I barely did anything. I throw up at the sight of blood,” Sarah added, quickly looking back up to Biggs with wide, horri
fied eyes. “I mean, not really throw up, but…”
“Well either way, you should be proud of yourselves. You probably saved his legs.” Harper was serious as he leaned back and took a deep breath. I could tell that under his playboy exterior he was a medic first, an exhausted one.
“How’s he doing anyway? I mean, other than his legs.” I felt foolish not asking Dave myself, but I knew it was pointless--he wouldn’t forgive me for a while. He’s always been egocentric, I reminded myself. I knew I’d have to tell him what was happening to me soon if I wanted to salvage whatever remained of our friendship.
“He’s better now that I got the alcohol away from him. He’s sleeping it off. So, we’ll see how he’s really doing tomorrow.” Rubbing his hand over his short, dark hair, Harper stifled a yawn.
I glanced around the room and realized Sanchez and Biggs were finally digging into plates piled with ravioli. Examining their tired expressions, I asked, “When was the last time any of you got some rest?”
Shoving a fork full of pasta into his mouth, Biggs muttered, “It’s been a while.”
Setting her book down, Sarah’s attention was on Biggs again. “How long were you out there before you saw the smoke from our chimney?”
“About a day or so,” Biggs answered. “We’ve been trying to stay out of the towns. The last time we ventured into one we lost members of our team.” With his words, a black cloud seemed to settle over the room.
“We haven’t seen any uninfected for two days,” Sanchez explained from the table.
“Uninfected? You mean ‘Crazies’?” I asked.
“Crazies, sick…anyone not normal,” Sanchez clarified sharply. “We knew this might be our only chance to regroup.” Frowning, she continued, “It’s hard to know what to expect, so we aren’t taking any unnecessary chances.” Looking at her plate, she grumbled, “Not anymore.”
After the Ending Page 10
