Whispers in the Dark

by Pam Jernigan

  “No kidding,” Karen said. “The former Mindless and the former victims will both need guidance in adjusting. It’s a huge change.”

  “You two will have your hands full.”

  “Someone will, for sure,” Karen demurred. "Doesn't mean it'll be us."

  “Nonsense,” Cordelia said. “It ought to be you. If it weren’t for you two, none of this would be happening. And your background is ideal.”

  “What?”

  Cordelia smiled. “You’re a teacher, Karen. They’ll need that.”

  “Huh. Well, I’m not doing it by myself.” She turned to smile at him. “We’d be kind of perfect for that, you know, together.”

  That last word floated in the air between them. Leo swallowed and dared to ask the question that had been buzzing around the back of his mind for the past day. “Are we going to be together?” he asked, almost forgetting to breathe.

  She pressed her lips together, uncertainty and hope emanating from her. “Um, yeah? I’d like that, anyway.”

  He smiled and kissed her, lightly, sweetly, before pulling back to say, “I would like that, too.”

  #

  Pip arrived early to the restaurant, which turned out to be a good thing. The world had opened up over the summer, if only in baby steps, getting back to what it had once been, but nice eateries were still pretty rare. She snagged a table near the front window although she had to drop Karen and Leo’s names to get it. Still, not bad for a Southern farm girl. She glanced at the menu - all two sides of it - but didn’t pay much attention; her focus was out the window. They would be coming from the training grounds, she was pretty sure.

  The waitress provided a glass of water and bundles of napkin-wrapped silverware. Pip looked at the drink with a brief wistful sigh; but so far, there wasn’t much Dr Pepper available. At least it was cold. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said with a smile. “Can I get two more for my friends? They’ll be here right quick.”

  The waitress grinned. “You betcha.”

  Pip switched her attention to the street, and this time was rewarded with sight of her friends. She’d never say so, but part of her had worried they’d claim to be too busy to meet with her today. Karen and Leo entered the restaurant, hand in hand, and looked around before spotting her. She stood, and they both claimed hugs before everyone sat. That was nice.

  “It’s great to see you again, Pip,” Karen said, sounding like she meant it. “Everybody’s been so busy. Leo and I barely get to see each other, and we’re working in the same building. It’s a great problem to have, though.”

  “How’s the program coming along?”

  “We’re getting it organized,” Leo answered, reading the menu with a slight frown. “The militia goes out to round up the unawakened.”

  “And they’re having to travel a lot further these days,” Karen said proudly.

  He nodded. “So as the remaining Mindless are captured, they’re stashed inside the main building, where they can start absorbing energy.”

  “From all the emotions,” Karen explained, unnecessarily. “We can’t do much with them until their mental tanks fill up, so they’re still caged, but they’re usually pretty satisfied just to hang out and enjoy the feels.”

  “We’ve got a good system of providing them food and water,” Leo added. “It’s pretty basic, but enough.”

  “There’s a fake stream going on one wall - running water, yay! Filtered before and after, obviously.”

  Pip nodded. “Sounds complicated.”

  Karen grinned. “My mom’s been helping. I’m seeing her more now than I did six months ago. Which was weird at first,” she added, glancing at Leo with a grin.

  His eyes raised from the menu just in time to smile back at her. Mostly everybody kept their feelings masked these days, but she had the distinct impression that these two had their own private channel going.

  “Anyway,” Leo said, putting down the menu, “once they wake up, we’ve got volunteers who come in to help with the basics. Stuff like hygiene although they tend to remember that pretty quickly.”

  “And I’ve sung the ABCs so much, I’m getting a little tired of it,” Karen claimed.

  “No, you’re not,” Leo said, smiling at her. “But if you like we could switch classes.”

  She laughed. “Right. You could teach my stuff, no problem, but I’m not psychic. They’re better off having you work with them. I mean, my side is stuff they knew, before. The whole emotion-reading thing is brand new to all of them.”

  Their waitress arrived with a bright smile. “What can I getcha?”

  Reminded, Pip looked at her menu once more, then ordered a sandwich. Leo drew Karen’s attention to the menu, with a funny half-embarrassed look. Karen was unfazed. “Oh, that’s pronounced keesh. It’s basically eggs with stuff like meat, cheese, and/or vegetables baked in.”

  “I haven’t had that before,” Leo said, handing the menu to the waitress. “So I’ll try one, please.”

  “I’ve had it before.” Karen turned in her menu as well. “I’ll have it again. Thanks!”

  The waitress jotted a few notes, nodded once, and wandered off towards the kitchen.

  “But enough about us,” Leo said. “What have you been up to, Pip?”

  “Oh, the usual. Farming. Well, that and taking on some field hands. Some of you city folks don’t know one end of a hoe from the other.”

  Karen almost contained her laugh. “That’s why we need you, Pip.”

  “And then there’s the ex-Mindless. Some of them kind of remember, but they’re interested.” Pip suspected they wanted to rebuild a connection to the land, to something safely inanimate. “It’s kind of handy. If I see one of ‘em making a mistake, they’ll pick up on it before I even say anything.”

  Karen frowned. “I wouldn’t really recommend-”

  “Nah, it’s okay. I tell them it’s all right to read me. ‘Sides, they concentrate better when they’re not working on blocking folks.”

  Leo shrugged, which she took to be agreement.

  “Are you still based at the camp?” Karen asked, as their food arrived.

  Pip chewed and swallowed. “Yeah, but not full time - I travel. Consulting farmer, that’s me.”

  Leo looked doubtful. “You stay safe, right?”

  “Oh, sure. Mind you, that old truck of mine is pretty good protection. Plus Doc Borsa and them improved on his vaccine, and turns out, they don’t need boosters.”

  Karen laid down her fork, studying Pip. “It’s permanent?”

  “Far as they know, yeah.”

  Karen and Leo exchanged serious looks. Was that some tension there?

  “So what you’re saying,” Karen started, “is that if I get a shot of the vaccine then there’s no way I can be infected? Not even from, um, close contact?” Her hand strayed sideways to grip Leo’s, and Pip started to see where she was going with this.

  “That’s what they say. Not like catching the virus is that big of a deal anymore,” Pip said.

  “It’s a big deal,” Leo said, flatly, his hand turning to grasp Karen’s fingers.

  “It really isn’t,” Karen said, with a hint of annoyance. “But it sounds like we won’t have to worry about that anymore.”

  “I hear tell they’re working on it the other way, too - some kind of shot to power down the virus. Y’all who were Mindless won’t change back, they don’t think, but it’ll keep the bug from being catching.”

  Karen smiled slowly, then switched her gaze to Leo. “You hear that? Double protection.”

  He smiled back. “That might be enough, yeah.”

  “I reckon it’ll be good to limit the spread,” Pip said, watching them both. “Can’t have all receivers and no generators; that’s what got us into the mess in the first place.

  Karen looked back at her, surprised. “I guess so. Hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Well, Jake said…” She stopped herself. Hadn’t meant to ment
ion that name.

  “You’re hanging out with Jake these days? As in my ex-boyfriend?”

  Pip was too tanned for a blush to show. She hoped. “Sometimes. There ain’t but so many of us at the camp.” She shrugged. “He likes to talk.”

  Leo chased the last crumbs of his lunch around the plate before capturing them with the fork, looking down. “So I’m told,” was all he said, but he sounded amused.

  Karen pretended to jab her elbow into his side, but otherwise ignored him. “That’s great. Tell him I said hi, next time you see him.”

  “Sure, I’ll do that.” Pip shrugged, drinking the last of her water.

  “And let us know how Karen can get that vaccine,” Leo said.

  Karen nodded. “Everyone at the center ought to have it.”

  “But especially Karen,” Leo added firmly.

  Karen looked at him with affection clear in her expression. “You’re all about protecting me.”

  He shrugged. “I figured out months ago that you need someone to take care of you.”

  The look he directed at Karen was so tender that Pip looked away. Some things needed privacy. And patience from third parties. She took a big bite of her sandwich. Karen and Leo were darn near perfect for each other, which just about figured. Miracles were like that.

  #

  It was a crisp autumn day when Karen and Leo ascended the steps to the old library together. “Finally,” Karen said, feeling as if they’d reached a milestone. It had been six months, almost, since they’d last been here.

  The Mindless weren’t the only ones who needed help to adjust to the new reality. People were conquering their fear - mostly. Karen had been able to teach them the trick of keeping their emotions shielded, with Leo conducting the final exam.

  The initial rush of recoveries and classes had finally slowed, allowing them to take a long-overdue day off. By unspoken agreement, they’d headed away from the masses of humanity to somewhere more quiet.

  “It’s been a busy summer,” Leo replied, looking around. “Rebuilding the world takes time.”

  “Yeah, but things have gone really well, don’t you think?”

  He smiled at her. “Yes, I do think. Also, I agree with you.”

  She grinned, pushing the door open carefully. There were still signs of a fight, with books strewn around randomly, but at least the bodies had been removed.

  Leo touched her hand, and his sadness echoed hers. She entwined her fingers with his, drifting further inside. He reached out his free hand to touch the books as they passed. “I knew these were important, last spring. Just didn’t understand why.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to remember; I was so foggy back then.”

  “What do you remember?” She slanted him a sideways glance before turning to face him.

  He smiled. “Seeing you for the first time. Sensing your emotions.”

  She grinned. “Was I terrified?”

  “Yeah.” He lifted a hand to brush hair back from her face. “But upstairs, right before I got to you, the fear changed… that was the first time I’d ever seen love. You were thinking about Katrina, you said. It felt so amazing. I was hooked.”

  “Is that why you protected me?” She tipped her head. “I’ve wondered sometimes but never remember to ask.”

  He shrugged. “We’ve been a little busy with the recovery classes - there’s barely been time to breathe.”

  “What color?” This one, she knew the answer to.

  “Golden. It was so beautiful.” He laughed softly. “I didn’t even know what to call it. Just ‘not fear’. And I never wanted it to end.”

  She stretched up to kiss him briefly. “Looks like your wish came true.”

  “Or my prayers were answered. Anyway, that’s also why I took you along when I left.”

  “Yeah, I’ll never forget that, either,” she said, and laughed. “I decided you were my favorite zombie.”

  “What, just because I didn’t kill you? You’re easy to impress.”

  She smirked. “That was a big part of it, yeah.” They walked towards the staircase, hand in hand. “That’ll be quite the story to tell our grandkids someday.”

  “Grandkids?”

  Karen froze as she realized what she’d said. “Oh. Um, yeah.” They’d spent most of their time together for the past six months, but hadn’t defined their future. He'd shared his emotions, but not his thoughts. Not on this topic. She turned to face him, drawing courage from his lack of negative reaction. “Kind of metaphorically.”

  He let go of her hand, reaching instead to pull her into a loose embrace, his arms encircling her waist. “What if I wanted it to be literal?”

  “Oh, look at you using big words,” she said, then closed her eyes. “Sorry.”

  “Karen,” he said softly, hugging her a little tighter.

  She opened her eyes to see him gazing at her with such an open expression, she didn’t need to see his emotional energy to decipher it. “Yeah?”

  Leo raised one hand to stroke her cheek. “Karen, I love you. I’ve wanted to talk to you about this, to ask you… Except, I kept thinking… that’s not enough. Emotions fade, feelings change. Especially for me.” He smiled wryly. “We’ve spent the last six months teaching the ex-Mindless that feelings come and go, and you can't trust them. I love you - but that’s not enough to build a life on.”

  “I love you, too.” She studied him, unsure where he was going with this, as if the ground was shifting beneath her. “You think that could change?”

  He shrugged. “Do you know when I first realized that I loved you?”

  “You said it was after they re-captured you.”

  “Right. When I realized I'd die to protect you. That’s not an emotion, Karen. Not entirely. That’s a choice. And it’s a choice I’ve made every day since - one I’m going to keep on making, no matter what my feelings do.”

  She nodded, slowly, finding solid ground beneath her feet once more. “So what are you saying?”

  He took a deep breath. “Will you marry me? Will you keep making that choice to love me, no matter what?”

  She gasped. His face remained serious, intent. It reminded her of when he’d first hugged her, baffled her, and saved her life. She searched his eyes, trying to read him. “You sure?”

  “Yeah,” he said quietly, and she couldn’t find a trace of doubt.

  “Well, if you say so,” she answered, unable to avoid smiling, joy washing over her.

  He smiled back. “I say so.”

  She looped her arms around his neck, reaching up, almost touching her forehead to his. “Then… I will.” The flood of love coming from him buoyed her up, but didn’t sweep her away. Her eyes fell to his lips, and closed as she zeroed in on her target, and all she knew was Leo - her monster, her hero, her friend… her choice.