Waves of Solace

by Ariel Bonin

  Moisture clouded Lindsey's vision as she listened to the woman's words. While it hurt to think about her unborn child not being worthy of a life, she had to agree. If she and Jared's baby had been born, without a doubt, they'd all be dead. She never would have met Andrew, she wouldn't have seen New Canaan, and she would not have been as happy as she was at that very moment (minus the fact that Andrew was gone on a dangerous run—she was still trying to forget that). No unnecessary stress on the baby, right?

  The doctor must have seen Lindsey's moved expression, because she got up from her chair, crossed the room, and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "You can do this, Lindsey. We'll help you every step of the way. Just try to relax, put your feet up, and when Andrew gets back, you tell him."

  "Should I? Wouldn't it be better to wait, just in case?"

  "If I were in his shoes, I'd want to know, especially in the unfortunate event of a complication. He deserves to be in the loop. After all, he did create half of that baby."

  Lindsey smiled and glanced down at her flat stomach, imagining the part of Andrew she carried inside her. She closed her eyes as her heart constricted with a fusion of worry and excitement.

  Anderson left Lindsey's side and picked up a bottle from her desk. "Here are your prenatal vitamins. It's all we've got left, so hopefully they'll find more on their run. I made sure it was on the list."

  Lindsey accepted the small plastic container and looked up as her eyes shone with the utmost appreciation. "Thank you, Dr. Anderson."

  _____

  "Which way are we headin'?" Charlie asked Brian as he reloaded his rifle.

  The three men and one woman stood at the beach entrance, their heads turning in all directions to keep alert of their surroundings. Andrew saw their tan Chevy in the loop, which hadn't moved since they'd left it. After thirty or so days and with a little gas leftover in the tank, he was surprised to see it sitting there.

  "That sport utility there, it was ours. It should still run if we need transportation," Andrew offered.

  "We have a box truck in a garage down the street. One of these days it's gonna be gone, but so far our luck has held up. If it's not there, we'll double back for that," Brian said. He pointed down the street directly in front of them. "See that real estate office? Just beyond it is a warehouse. That's where it should be."

  Charlie took point, using his knife when a turner drifted out of a nearby Sand n' Surf shop. Another stumbled through the tall grass in front of an elegant bungalow-style house and wound up next to Wendy. The redhead flipped her rifle to her back and drew her machete. Swinging it like a baseball bat, she sliced through the cadaver's skull, removing the top section of its head. Andrew was going to help her, but quickly saw why the woman worked security like Nicholas and Kat—she could handle herself. That fraction of knowledge made him feel more confident in their current group.

  They arrived at the warehouse only minutes later. Brian reached into his pocket and extracted a set of keys.

  "So far so good," he said, indicating the heavy padlock on the bay door. He separated the correct key and unlocked it. As the door lifted, they were greeted by the sight of a short white furniture truck, just the way Brian had described it.

  "There must be very few people around, if any, for both vehicles to be just as we've left them," Andrew considered aloud.

  Brian agreed as he unlocked the driver's door. "We've only run into a couple of people out here, and they're on the island now. Lucky for us, they believed in the greater good." This was clearly a reference to all of the bad-intentioned people wandering the earth nowadays. The odds of bumping into one of them were much higher than the good ones.

  "Where to first?" Wendy asked as she started to climb into the truck cab.

  Brian assessed their group and then the truck. "It's going to be a tight squeeze in there. Wendy, I hate to ask, but would you mind sitting on Charlie's lap? I think that's the only way we're all going to fit."

  Andrew watched Charlie stiffen and had to hold back a smirk. The man hated unnecessary contact and being in close quarters with other people. Andrew wondered how he was going to handle such a major intrusion of space.

  "Uh, sure," Wendy responded, her weary gaze crossing over Charlie. "As long as he doesn't mind."

  "Whatever," the man grumbled, and swung himself up into the seat.

  Andrew allowed Wendy to get in and situated before he clambered in next to her. She sat lightly on Charlie's thighs, holding herself in place with a hand on the dashboard. Charlie was the tensest Andrew had ever seen him, which was humorous because most men would have been thrilled to have a pretty woman on their lap. The rancher was great with Lindsey but they, as Andrew had thought before, were like brother and sister. As a capable, grown man, Charlie seemed to have no fear, but this was the exception—and Andrew had to wonder why. Possibly because the last time Charlie felt something for a woman, he lost her?

  When the doors were shut, Brian started the truck with a rumble. He pulled out into the desolate street and turned right.

  "First stop is a lumberyard about seven miles from here. We'll load up whatever we can use and then head back to town."

  _____

  The lumberyard went without a hitch. The gated-in area was corpse-free and made loading the truck a cinch. It did make sense though—the turners craved flesh, not cedar planks. They were probably long gone in the search for a productive food source.

  Brian turned the truck around and drove toward town once again, Charlie still more uncomfortable than ever. They passed tall condominiums and thousands of palm trees, finally parking in front of a gas station. Trash and vegetation covered the entire lot, along with an assortment of abandoned cars. Andrew jumped down from the cab and chose his knife as a suitable weapon, electing not to use his gun if he didn't have to.

  "All right, let's look inside for some canisters," Brian instructed, "and then start checking these cars for fuel. I'll try the pumps."

  While Wendy stayed by the truck, Charlie and Andrew approached the store. Most of the windows were shattered, allowing thick vines to climb inside. Cautiously, Charlie pointed his rifle through the broken door. A moan echoed from the back of the store and he nodded to Andrew. Andrew struck the metal frame with his blade, causing a sharp "clang." The turner lurched out of a storeroom behind the counter and tripped over various objects on his way over to them. Charlie fired one shot and the dead man dropped.

  When no other turners emerged, they pushed open the door. Andrew stopped to grab a handful of candy bars and shoved them into his bag. According to Brian, Christmas was only a couple of days away, and Andrew didn't want to go back to New Canaan empty-handed. Zoey was a sucker for anything chocolate, but Lindsey proved to be slightly more difficult. He had an idea of what he wanted to give her, but wouldn't find what he needed here.

  Charlie made a commotion as he dug through a pile of random junk, but stood victorious when he procured two red gas cans. After they collected a few additional food items, they returned to Brian. He promptly filled the containers with gas from the abandoned vehicles, and then they were on to the next stop.

  It'd been awhile since Andrew had visited a Target. The stores were gigantic and a pain to clear. This one was in nicer shape than the last, and yet, looked like it had seen better days. He was able to identify the store only by its large bulls-eye, since all of the letters had fallen onto the concrete below. Brian swung the truck around and backed up all the way to the front doors.

  "Ya sure this is the best idea?" Charlie questioned, throwing their driver a wary squint.

  "Yes, I do," Brian said as he exited the truck. "We've already swept the store. If all of the doors are still sealed, then we should be fine. There were plenty of supplies last time we were here. Hopefully we can get a lot more today."

  When they drew near the electronic doors, Brian frowned.

  "The lock's broken," Wendy said, gun at the ready.

  "But the doors are closed," Brian countered. "It's okay if oth
er people need things. I just hope they weren't stupid enough to leave anyone behind."

  While he pried open the doors with a crowbar, Andrew and Charlie strained to separate them. Slowly, the doors eased apart and Wendy moved past them, using her night vision scope to scan the dark store.

  "Clear," she whispered after about ten seconds.

  The three men followed her up, keeping their weapons ready just in case she missed anything. Brian dropped his for a moment and slipped a hand into his back pocket. He pulled out a list and proceeded to rip it in two.

  "Andrew and Charlie, take this half and find whatever you can. Bring back a full cart and load the supplies into the truck. We'll keep doing that until the truck is full or something stops us." He glanced at his gold wristwatch. "Sundown is in a few hours. Let's get this done and go home."

  _____

  They started in the pharmacy, raiding almost the entire place. It looked like it'd been searched many times before, which limited their options. They were fortunate to find most of the items on their list though, like prescriptions, antibiotics and vitamins. The two men also discovered aisles and aisles of toiletries. They filled an entire cart with shampoo, deodorant, toothpaste and body wash.

  "Maybe we should find plastic totes for all of this?" Andrew proposed.

  Charlie nodded. "Good call."

  They took the long way around, grabbing things as they went. The women's clothing caught Andrew's eye and he walked over to a rack of dark-colored dresses. The style reminded him of Lindsey, so he selected one in black with thin straps and a low neckline. As he did this, Charlie's impatient voice carried across the small space between them.

  "Baby section's over here. I'll get somethin' for the little man."

  "Thanks," Andrew called out as he chose a pair of jeans for her as well. Shirts were easy to come by, but pants were much harder. He put the items in his bag and went off to find Charlie and the cart.

  En route, he happened to pass through the sleepwear section and found himself stopping in front of a line of lingerie. He wasn't sure of Lindsey's exact size in that department, but figured it wouldn't be too difficult to guess. A sheer, baby-doll tank top and thong set in soft pink got his attention, and he briefly wondered if this gift was more for her, or for him? Initially, when he put it into his bag he felt a tad creepy, but then reminded himself that it was for his wife, the woman he'd been married to for all of two weeks. They were entitled to a healthy sex life.

  Suddenly, Charlie spoke from right alongside him and he jumped. The other man just smiled. "Find one in your size?" Andrew scoffed and brushed him off with the shake of his head. As he was walking away, Charlie quipped, "I would've taken ya for a black lace man myself."

  "Shut it—" Andrew was saying on a laugh when they heard a panicked scream toward the back of the store. Multiple gunshots rang out and the two men broke into a sprint. The screams continued, but the shots did not, which was horribly disconcerting.

  Andrew and Charlie followed the sounds of distress until they ended up in the last aisle. By then, the screams were gone, replaced by the unsettling noises of wetness and tearing flesh. Wendy's twitching body lay beneath three turners, all of which were ripping into her stomach and chest. Charlie used his rifle on the first and then after knocking down the second, crushed its skull with the sheer force of his boot. Andrew buried his knife in the back of the last one's head, splitting the rounded bone in half. They knelt next to Wendy, her insides on the outside and eyes staring straight ahead. Charlie lifted his rifle. Neither spoke a word as he fired a round into her forehead.

  "Brian?" Andrew hollered.

  "Here," a weak voice said from surprisingly close by.

  The men spun around and saw a dark mass in the shadowy corner. Upon closer inspection, it was easy to see that something was wrong.

  "What happened?" Andrew asked as they got down beside him.

  Blood oozed down Brian's chin, the crimson liquid coating his mouth. His hands grasped his stomach and a substantial volume of red was visible there, too.

  "It was an accident," he said quietly. "Must've been in the back room…didn't see 'em. They got to her first…finger was on the trigger."

  Andrew put the pieces together: Wendy had accidentally discharged her gun when the turners attacked her, causing at least one round to hit Brian. Holy fuck.

  "We're gonna get you outta here. Let's get you to the truck," Andrew said with wasted determination.

  The distant sound of hungry turners drifted through the store. He assumed they'd heard the gunfire and were coming in through the front entrance.

  "Got it," Charlie said, jerking to his feet. His heavy footfalls faded and Andrew turned back to Brian. Blood poured from the wound. He tried to apply pressure, but his efforts were useless. There was just too much internal damage.

  "Andrew…" the man said, his voice muffled and raspy, "when you get back, talk to the general."

  "Why?"

  "Just do it." Brian barked out a violent cough and more blood materialized on his lips. "And tell my son…I'm sorry. He's made me proud. Tell him…that I love him."

  Andrew fought the thickness in his throat and flinched when Charlie began shooting his handgun, as he must've run out of rifle magazines. He fired off round after round, and it worried Andrew to think about how many turners had found their way inside.

  "We can fix this. Just hold on," he repeated desperately.

  Brian wheezed and it made a rattling sound like fluid was invading his chest. As much as Andrew didn't want to admit it, he knew the man didn't have much time left.

  "And what happened with his mother…it wasn't his fault. Make sure…you tell him that."

  "Okay!" Andrew hollered over the second barrage of shots, and, with a grimace, watched Brian's eyes close. The man's abdomen stilled beneath his blood-stained hands and he hung his head in sorrow.

  "Andrew! I need ya!" Charlie yelled from up front.

  Rising to his feet, Andrew withdrew his Beretta, said a quick apology and fired a round into Brian's temple. He took the man's weapon and pulled the strap across his chest as he returned the handgun to its holster. He ran to help Charlie and discovered a slew of turners trying to get in, and more coming. Another unsettling fact—it was almost dark.

  "We gotta close these doors!" Charlie said, kicking back a female corpse. Andrew lifted the barrel of his rifle and blew a hole in her brittle skull, showering the light-colored tiles with black brain matter.

  "But what about the truck?"

  "We ain't gettin' outta here till mornin'! Help me close it up!"

  With his blood pressure sky-high and a million thoughts running through his head, Andrew took out the closest turners and assisted Charlie in sealing the doors shut. The man was correct—they were in for the night.

  _____

  After dinner, most of which Lindsey had difficulty eating, she changed Jacob and summoned Zoey from the porch. They took the pathway to the beach, which was where the boats would land since their dock was destroyed by the storm. When they reached the embankment, she spotted a few others already waiting on the white sand, Caren among them.

  "No sign of them yet?" Lindsey asked with a sigh.

  Caren shook her head, her lips tugged down at the corners. The faint sound of a boat motor made her perk up suddenly, and the two women squinted into the distance. Both fishing vessels came into view and Lindsey held her breath as she waited for sight of Andrew. As they neared, something looked off—she could only see one person in each boat. Caren ran toward the water and leaped into Robert's embrace when he scrambled down from the deck. After giving her a sufficient hug, he walked toward Lindsey and the kids.

  "Where's…?" She sucked in a breath. "Where is he?"

  "And my dad?" Tommy added from next to Zoey.

  Robert shrugged, his body visibly strung with nervousness. "From the start, our orders were to return to the island if they didn't meet us by dusk." Lindsey's head felt light and she listed somewhat. Caren reac
hed out and held her steady as Robert said, "It doesn't mean worst case scenario. If they ran out of time, they were to stay put and return to the beach at dawn. We'll be there waiting for them."

  "We'll bring 'em home. You have my word," Phil added with an earnest expression.

  Practically in shock, Lindsey and Zoey turned back to the path and returned home. There was no use waiting on the beach—they'd get their answer in the morning.

  _____

  Jacob woke partway through the night, his shrill cries echoing how Lindsey felt on the inside. She prepared a small bottle and brought him into her bed. It was incredibly empty without Andrew, and while she remembered that co-sleeping was not recommended, she frankly did not care tonight—it wasn't like she was sleeping anyway. Dim moonlight spilled through the window and splashed her white comforter with brightness. A chilly breeze drifted into the room and she pulled the blanket over her shoulder.

  Jacob did not fall right asleep. He kept his eyes on Lindsey and quietly drank his formula. She brushed her fingertips over his hair and began to sing the first song that came to mind.

  "Hush little baby, don't say a word…"

  Her voice began to waver after only a couple of lines, the overwhelming anxiety closing her throat. She blinked back tears, but they couldn't be stopped. She let out a loud sob and shifted her face into the pillow. At that point her grief was like a waterfall. It kept coming and coming until she felt like she finally had some control over it, and then turned her head back to Jacob. The infant was still watching her, expressionless. At last, he reached out one of his chubby hands and touched Lindsey's cheek. The gesture brought an instant smile to her face, but made her emotional all over again.

  As she leaned in to kiss Jacob's soft forehead, all she could think was, Where are you, Andrew?