Praying for Grace

by M. Lauryl Lewis

  “Ayup.”

  “Did they find anything?”

  “Yeah. A huge RV. You’ll like it. It was right out back under an awning.”

  I sat up and arranged Emmett on the couch beside me. His sleeper suit was soaked with urine, as was I, so I stripped him down to his birthday suit. Gus produced a clean diaper quickly, so I wrapped it around his bum before he decided to pee on me again. I shrugged out of my wet shirt and nestled back against the couch to feed Emmett.

  “Where is everyone?”

  “Sleeping. Gretchen’s going to take the next guard shift soon.”

  “You sound tired,” I observed. As I said it, he yawned.

  “Once it’s light again, we’ll load up and head out.”

  Emmett was busy eating, his little arms and legs stretching from time to time. He’d slept for a long time and I knew he’d be awake for a while.

  “He’ll be awake for a bit. You should sleep,” I said to Gus.

  “Once we’re on the road.”

  “Where will we go?” I asked as Emmett finished his feeding. I noticed that the older he got, the shorter his feedings became.

  Gus took a deep breath. “I’m not sure. Here, I’ll burp him.”

  He held his arms out for the baby, and I handed him over. The little one was making soft cooing noises.

  “He’s growing,” said Gus.

  “Yeah. He’s gotten heavier. His cheeks are getting chunky.”

  The three of us sat on the couch together waiting for daylight. It was quiet, aside from soft cooing and grunting from Emmett. Eventually the stairs squeaked as someone descended them.

  “Gus?” called Gretchen softly.

  He stood abruptly, on edge.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I think something’s wrong. I’m cramping and bleeding.” Gretchen’s voice was strained.

  “Aw fuck,” said Gus.

  She reached the bottom of the stairs and looked at Gus with great sadness in her eyes.

  “He’s gone, Gus. I can’t feel him in my own head anymore.”

  “Aw Gretch, I’m so sorry.”

  “I know I never had a choice in having him, but I loved him so much. I could feel his soul already.”

  Gus wrapped his arms around her and did his best to comfort her. “It’ll be ok, honey. It’ll be ok. Shhh.”

  She was crying softly and her emotional pain was palpable from across the room.

  “Gretchen, I’m so sorry,” I said. “Are you sure he’s gone?”

  She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and nodded.

  “You’re early enough that things should resolve on their own. I know this isn’t what you want to hear,” said Gus, who still held Gretchen. “But let me know if you feel something pass? The bleeding will probably get worse for a few days until your body clears everything.”

  “I don’t want this to be happening,” she moaned.

  “I know, honey. I know,” he soothed.

  ***

  We spent the first half of the day salvaging what we could from the old farm. We were lucky on two accounts. The farmhouse hadn’t been scavenged by anyone else and none of the dead made an appearance while we were there. Hoot and Dan managed to charge the RV battery using an old generator they found in the garage. We packed the RV with canned food from the pantry in the large country kitchen, as well as blankets and clothes. There wasn’t a lot of either, but we were grateful for anything. Katie and Abbey sorted through the small upstairs and found toiletries and a nicely stocked medicine cabinet. The RV itself was an impressively long Pace Arrow. It had about everything we could need inside: one bedroom with a queen sized bed, a kitchenette, two full-size sofas, and a table that made into a bed. It was newer with very few miles on the odometer.

  Hoot suggested we drive southeast, back toward the mountains. He and Gretchen had been with the group at the old base for months and went into more detail about the strange zombies who had been gathering from the ocean, which they had named Islanders. They were infected and slowly dying. They held a primal intelligence that seemed to turn to insanity as time went by. Organized insanity, they called it. The group we had just left behind had been experimenting on them. The creatures were known to cut their own body parts off and adorn themselves with unusual items that they’d embed into their own flesh. At one time they were more alive than dead, yet still craved flesh. Hoot wasn’t gentle in his description. The dead were searching for me and the child I was carrying. Gretchen had verified it when she had laid her hands upon several of them that were captive at the base. They knew about Molly, and all we could assume is that the current baby growing within me was even more of a link between the living and the dead than Molly had been. The base had collected five different kinds of zombies: Runners, Roamers, a bloated Hunter, one of the children that Danny’s group had named Drawers for their ability to draw people in and mesmerize, and several of the Islanders. None of them had seen the ones that were charred and could crumple into a pile of ashes.

  ***

  We traveled a major highway southeast for hours, Danny behind the wheel. Hoot suggested that each of us learn to drive the behemoth vehicle. It may be as critical as being able to shoot a gun, he had explained. He offered to teach us as a group first, but I bowed out to join Gus in the small bedroom at the back of the motorhome. Abbey wanted to hold Emmett, who was awake and content, so I agreed to leave him with her. Gretchen was resting on one of the two long sofas with her feet propped up. She looked a bit pale.

  As I reached for the door knob to the bedroom, I turned when Hoot said something.

  “We’ll be stopping in about an hour for a break.”

  I nodded and proceeded through the door. Gus was snoring softly from the bed where he had sprawled out with his boots still on. I stood watching him for a moment as my mind wondered to Boggs. I already missed him terribly and knew even deeper grief would eventually find me. I kicked my shoes off and climbed onto the bed, trying to not wake Gus. The motion from the RV driving down the highway was making me nauseous. I situated myself near the edge of the bed, facing the cowboy I had grown to depend on for so many things. Each angle of his face was familiar, the fullness of his lips, the muscles of his chest and arms. I sighed without really meaning too, causing him to open his eyes.

  “Hey there,” he whispered.

  “Hey.”

  “You doing ok?” he asked me.

  “Not really.”

  “I wish I had words of comfort, darlin’. I really do.”

  “I know,” I said simply.

  He found my hand with his and held onto it. “I love you, Zoe. Don’t forget that.”

  “I won’t. I’m just so tired. Of everything. I don’t want things to be like this.”

  “None of us do, baby. None of us do.”

  He rolled onto his back and motioned me to come closer. Once I was cuddled up close to him, he held me tight with one arm.

  “I’m really sorry about Gretchen’s baby.”

  “Me too. She’s crushed.”

  “What happened to the baby’s dad?”

  “I killed him.”

  I raised myself onto an elbow and looked down at him. “What the fuck?”

  “He was a bad man, Zoe. He raped Gretchen. Did worse to others.”

  “Oh my God. Is she ok?”

  “I guess as ok as the rest of us.”

  “I’m really sorry. Not just for her situation, but for not trusting her and for being jealous.”

  “No need to apologize.” He took a deep breath. “We need to talk about our own baby. I know you’re not happy about it.”

  I nestled back in beside him. “It’s just too soon. I ache for Molly every minute of every day. I never knew I could love someone as much as I loved her. How could I possibly love another?”

  He rolled back onto his side to face me. “I’m sorry it happened, Zoe. I hope you’ll grow to love our baby. I know it’s not what you want, but I’m glad the baby is yours and
mine.”

  “I know I’m being selfish. I’m sorry,” I managed to mutter.

  He kissed me on the lips gently and held me tight. “It’ll be ok. Somehow.”

  “Make love to me?” I asked, not even knowing the words were about to escape my lips.

  “You sure?” he sked, looking skeptical.

  I nodded. “I need to feel something, anything. I can’t bear the sadness anymore.”

  “I could just rub your back, or your feet, if you want?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head slowly side to side.

  He adjusted himself until he was looking down at me. His eyes were so soft and caring while his body was hard and rugged. “How do you want it?” he asked, looking eager to please.

  “Slow and sweet.”

  He leaned down and kissed me deeply. Sweetly. His skin felt hot and familiar as his hands undressed me. I gripped his back hard as he entered me, my nails digging in and causing him to wince. He looked into my eyes as if studying my soul as he began thrusting. The weight of his body against mine was a reminder of the reality all around us. I wanted to close my eyes and pretend it was a year ago and I was in my own bed, in my own home. Back when the dead stayed dead. Back when life was simple. Back when Boggs was a distant friend away at college. Back when he was alive. Back when life itself made some sort of sense. Soon the rhythm of his thrusting sent me into a state of unusual calm. I let my body relax as he demonstrated his love for me. Soon I joined him in a state of ecstasy. As our climaxes came to an end, we felt the RV come to an abrupt halt.

  “Fuck,” grumbled Gus.

  “What is it?” I asked, alarmed.

  “Trouble. I can sense it from Gretchen.”

  Gus stood and was pulling on his pants as he rushed to the door that led to the rest of the motorhome. As he left the bedroom, I hurriedly pulled on my own clothes and followed him.

  “What’s going on?” I heard Gus ask the others in a gruff voice.

  “Not sure,” mumbled Hoot. “The road ends here.”

  “Dan?” I addressed the teenager sitting next to Abbey on one of the sofas.

  He shrugged.

  My stomach was in an uncomfortable knot and I felt clammy all over. It was almost as if my insides were warming and my skin cooling.

  “Something’s wrong,” I said, suddenly feeling faint and reaching for the side of the sofa.

  “Zoe?” It was Abbey’s voice. I looked at her. “What is it?” she pressed as she stood.

  I shook my head side to side. “I’m not sure. Tell them to drive,” I said quickly.

  “Gus!” yelled Abbey. “Gus! Zoe says to drive!”

  “Road’s washed out,” he called back. “What’s going on?”

  “Gus! Back up! Tell them to back up!” I yelled.

  I heard mumbling from the front end of the RV and eventually it began rolling backward. Gretchen and Gus came walking down the aisle, stumbling as the RV lurched to the side. Gretchen had dark circles under her eyes and looked exhausted.

  “We have company,” was all Gus said.

  “Gus. I think there’s dead near,” I said quickly.

  “Do you sense them?”

  “Not exactly.” I looked up at him. “I can’t explain it. Something’s just not right.”

  The RV lurched as whoever was driving slammed on the breaks. Katie joined us in the living area. Hoot wasn’t far behind, and he looked mad.

  “Some old fucker’s standing behind us, holding a sign,” barked Hoot from the cab. He quickly made his way through the RV and reached for the door.

  “Hoot, you can’t go out there,” said Gretchen. “It’s not safe.”

  He stepped outside the vehicle, ignoring his sister’s warning. To my dismay, Gus was right behind him.

  “Dan, keep Abbey in here,” I said quickly as I rushed after them.

  It was near evening and the shadows of nearby trees were long. I knew we were somewhere between Oregon and Washington, but didn’t recognize our surroundings. We were near the mountains again. I could see them in the distance, looming over us with peaks still dotted by winter snow. Spring was almost over and the fields that sat on either side of the road were overgrown with weeds that had gone to seed. I still felt hot in my core and my stomach remained in a knot. I looked around, my instincts telling me that danger was near.

  Gus and Hoot both stood in the roadway, facing the stranger who blocked our path. Their stance was not quite as alarmed as I would have expected, but they were definitely on guard. The man facing us was older than Gus, but it was hard to tell by how much through the grime that coated his face and overgrown beard. He held a sign up in front of him. It was white cardboard written upon with a black marker.

  Please Help was all it said.

  “Zoe, get back inside,” barked Gus under his breath.

  “No.”

  I heard my lover sigh in frustration.

  “Hello there, brother,” said Gus to the stranger. “How can we help?”

  The dirtied man immediately relaxed his stance. “I’m trying to get back to my family,” he said. “I could use a ride. Some shelter. A bit of food?”

  “You alone?” asked Hoot.

  “Aye.” The man spoke with a very slight accent. “It’s just me.”

  “We need to get inside. I think the dead are near,” I whispered. My stomach was still trying to tell me something and the heat in my core felt like it was rising.

  “Where’re you headed?” asked Gus, who was surveying the surrounding area.

  “Mt. Rainier. My wife and I have a house up there. I know she’d have stayed there. I was stuck in Ocean Shores on business when this all went down. It’s taking me far too long to get home.”

  “What’s with the road?” asked Hoot, who gestured to the broken concrete and rebar that lay where we had intended to drive.

  “Gus,” I urged. “Look.”

  I pointed toward a billboard that stood about half a football-field length away. I could tell it had been an advertisement for auto insurance, but now stood weathered and worn. Near the base of the sign were two Roamers, shambling slowly our way. They seemed sluggish and the closer they got the clearer it was that they were well decayed. Shredded flesh hung limply from their arms and faces, the rotten meat swinging as they moved. A lone crow kept landing on one, trying to steal strips of flesh.

  “I see them, darlin’. I suggest we get inside. We can talk more as we backtrack to a drivable road. You’re welcome to come with us, but no guarantees we’ll make it to Mt. Rainier,” he said to the stranger.

  “Thank you,” the man said as he hurried toward us. “I’m so tired of running” he added.

  I backed up toward the RV door, not taking my eyes off of the dead. The closer they got, the worse I felt.

  CHAPTER 11

  Danny volunteered for the next stretch of driving. The rest of us sat on the two couches, except for the man who had just joined us. He had used a small portion of the water on board to clean up and was sitting at the small dining table, eagerly eating a can of corned beef and hash. We headed west again to circumvent the road block. The man told us that his name was Clark, but didn’t offer a last name. In a world taken over by the dead, things like last names had a way of falling by the wayside. He had been married to his wife, Laura, for thirty-some-odd years. He said that Katie reminded him of her when she was younger. His eyes filled with tears when he spoke about her. I’m sure he knew as well as the rest of us that chances were high that his Laura was dead. None of us spoke much about our journeys before that day. Clark was as in the dark as the rest of us when it came to the cause of the plague that still festered on earth.

  “It’s getting dark,” said Clark. “Are you guys planning to drive through the night or find someplace to hide?”

  “Haven’t really discussed it,” answered Hoot. “I don’t like the risk of attracting attention by driving at night, and I suppose the engine could use a break.”

  “Ayup,” said Gus as he rubb
ed at his jaw and chin. “I agree.”

  “I don’t want to drive into a major city if we can avoid it. Best to just pull off the road and camp for the night,” sighed Hoot.

  Clark looked down at his now-empty can of corned beef and hash. His face wore a look of worry. “Sorry I ate the whole thing.” He said. His face was clean shaven now. The skin that had been covered by beard was pale compared to the rest of his tanned face. He looked a lot younger now.

  “No worries, friend,” said Gus.

  Hoot lazily stood and stretched. “I’ll go let Danny know we’ll be pulling off for a bit.”

  Before long, the motorhome slowed and swayed gently as Dan pulled the behemoth off of the road and onto the shoulder.

  “Everyone go ahead and take a break,” said Hoot as he and Dan walked back toward the rest of us. “Don’t wander too far.”

  We all got up to exit the vehicle, aside from Gretchen.

  “Gretch? You ok?” asked Gus.

  “I’ll be fine. I’m just tired. I’ll take some Tylenol and lay down for a while.”

  “Call me if you need anything, ok?” he said to her.

  “I will.” She made her way to the bedroom at the back of the rig.

  “Zoe, walk with me for a minute?” asked Gus as he stood.

  “Sure.” I stood and walked toward the exit with him.

  I ached from head to toe and was more exhausted than I cared to admit to anyone. I took the hand that Gus offered after he stepped down to the ground. The evening air was cool. Gus kept my hand in his and we began walking away from the RV. The paved road was filled with weeds that were clutching at any crack they could find. Mosquitos buzzed nearby and the noise made my skin crawl.

  “There’s nowhere safe, is there?” I mumbled.

  I could feel his eyes on me as we walked. It took a moment for him to reply.

  “If there is, we’ll find it, darlin’.”

  He squeezed my hand gently to reassure me.

  “I think I felt them earlier, Gus. The dead, I mean. It was like my insides were on fire.”

  “So not in your head like before?”

  “No. Except I’m really tired now, which always used to happen after I felt them in my head.”