by J. Thorn
Somehow asking the Parkers about their past felt extremely prohibited- like I’d gone way too far past the “no trespassing” sign.
“My mom couldn’t have junk food,” Page finally confessed. A whoosh of breath left the Parker brothers en masse and I felt, more than saw, them settle into a resigned kind of memory-induced silence.
Neither Haley nor I knew what to say, so we sat quietly too. Eventually somebody would talk again, or we’d fall asleep. Either way….
“Not that she was opposed to them,” King spoke up and his soft voice was bracing through the thick tension. “She just couldn’t have them. So we all gave them up too. You know, like in support.”
“She begged us not to,” Harrison continued. “She was actually kind of mad about it. Since she couldn’t eat anything unhealthy, she felt like somebody should.”
“Remember how she’d send us to the store with a list and some kind of junk food would always be on there- like chocolate or ice cream or something. She thought we somehow wouldn’t notice,” Nelson carried on the story with amused sadness- but sadness so deep tears pricked at the corners of my eyes and I didn’t even know what happened yet.
“When Vaughan and I came home for Thanksgiving break, she’d ordered ten pies without anyone knowing. She was ready to shove them down our throats if she had to.” Hendrix laughed at the memory, but nobody joined in.
A sniffle came from Page and she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands. I tucked her in closer, trying to comfort her in any way that I could. Hendrix reached for her too, pulling her against his solid body. I moved with her by consequence and found my head leaning against his shoulder. I hadn’t meant to actually cuddle up next to him, but now that I was here, and now that his hand had tangled in the ends of my hair and he was rubbing my back like he was consoling me, I couldn’t find the will power to move anymore.
“Your mom was sick before the infection?” I found the courage to ask.
“Grade four brain tumor,” Vaughan explained in a voice rough and thick with aching. “By the time the infection broke out, she didn’t have much time left anyway.”
Shocked silence fell between Haley and I and neither of us could figure out how to respond to that. It was hard to imagine the world we used to live in, where people didn’t just die every day and modern medicine fought for people’s quality of life. It was hard to imagine suffering slowly while you watched someone you love die over time, instead of immediately and in front of your eyes.
And this was two years ago- they were so much younger. Page would have only been six, Harrison and King, fifteen and thirteen. Even the older ones, still only in college, still trying to figure out what to do with their lives, with themselves. My heart ached for them in a traumatic, overwhelming way.
And the pain didn’t stop, because Hendrix continued.
“She was sick for a while. Even though her doctor found the tumor relatively early, it was very aggressive. Treatment didn’t work, and there was no alternative medicine strong enough to make it disappear completely. For a while we thought they had gotten it, that she was fine, but then it reappeared bigger and stronger than ever.”
“How hard for your family,” Haley whispered.
“It was,” Nelson agreed. “But it was good too. I mean, it wasn’t all bad. Before the tumor, my dad was in the Army and gone a lot. He was constantly traveling and would be gone on assignment for months at a time. When mom was diagnosed, he took early retirement so he could stay home with us, with her. Because mom was sick, we were able to spend a lot more time with our dad than we would have if she’d been perfectly healthy. It brought us all closer together. Family became the most important thing to us, and we learned to value things I think most people take for granted. Or did take for granted, before the whole Zombie thing.”
“Looking back now,” Vaughan said pensively, “Mom’s brain tumor probably saved our lives. Dad stayed home and taught us everything we know about survival.”
“I thought you said your dad was a guitar teacher?” I asked, confused.
“Sure,” Vaughan laughed a little. “Retired Army Ranger that taught guitar lessons in his spare time.”
Well, at least that solved that mystery- I could check secret government school for Zombie assassins off my list of how the Parker brothers got so good at what they do. They were more normal than I’d assumed; maybe a bit tragic too, but normal.
“Do you remember when dad tried to teach Page how to tie a proper knot?” Harrison asked on a laugh and the other brothers joined in.
“I don’t remember that!” Page protested.
“That’s because you were like three, Pagey,” Vaughan explained- more community laughter. I even found myself smiling at the unfamiliar memory.
“When did she pass?” I asked out of sympathy.
And suddenly we were back to that oppressive silence again. Nobody said anything, didn’t even make a sound, except for Page who had started to cry and shake next to me.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“
“The day we left,” Hendrix whispered like a confession, his voice rough with pain and grief. He cleared his throat and continued with more courage than I had seen while fighting hordes of Zombies. “We were the only ones left in our suburb and we could see them coming. It was still early on in the infection. They weren’t as mobile as they are now, not as agile and quick. They were still slow from their disease and easy to kill- but there were hundreds of them. We had no choice but to leave, to flee. If we wanted to stay alive, if we wanted to stay together, we had to go then or never. But my mom wasn’t healthy enough to move. She had maybe a week left in good circumstances, maybe two. But without any medical attention, she was fading fast. And she was barely coherent, in and out of consciousness, weak and bed ridden. We couldn’t save her, even if we would have brought her with us.” He paused and let out a weary breath, his chest trembled underneath me and I lifted my head, desperate to give him space. His hand stayed on my lower back, urging me closer to him, like he needed my closeness, my touch, like maybe I was comforting him after all. And then in a barely audible voice, he grated out, “My dad stayed, to fight them off as best as he could. But, we said goodbye to both our parents that day.”
I felt all the air leave my lungs in a whoosh of sympathetic guilt and borrowed grief. I couldn’t imagine the kind of remorse they were living with. All Vaughan’s love-is-all-we-have speeches came rushing back to me and I suddenly understood the depth of these brothers’ love- how much they had sacrificed and given up to survive, to make sure they all stayed alive.
Hendrix mistook my silence though and harshly explained, “We had to leave, Reagan. We had to think about-“
“I understand,” I quickly reassured him before he could say his reasons: Harrison, King, Page. They wouldn’t have survived if they stayed. None of them would have.
And without the Parker brothers would Haley and I have made it much further than that department store in middle Missouri either?
The decision to leave their parents was the hardest thing they would ever have to do, and they did it out of love and protection for their siblings. They were quite possibly the bravest, most incredible men I’d ever met. And without Zombies I would never have known them.
As we sat, huddled together in this rotting, rundown building, I knew I was surrounded by the most intense love I’d ever known. And it might not have even been focused on me, but the depth of emotion they felt for each other was both heartbreaking and life-changing. I wanted that kind of love someday. I wanted to know the intimate complexity of those feelings- the ferocity of something so all encompassing. I wanted to know love in this world of decay. Maybe not today, but some day.
I leaned into Hendrix, pressing my forehead against his temple. He inclined back, his hand tightening around my waist. “I think that is the most courageous thing I’ve ever heard,” I whispered so only he would hear. Maybe the rest of the room should have heard my sentiment too, maybe I should h
ave given those words to everyone- probably they all needed to hear them. But they were only for Hendrix. He seemed to need them the most right now and I wanted to give them freely to him, genuinely. My lips brushed against his earlobe and I pressed a kiss to the curve of his jaw. “Don’t ever feel bad for what you did. You saved lives; you saved people you love- people I now love. And you saved me.”
He turned his head so that our foreheads rested against each other. We didn’t say anymore, didn’t even open our eyes. We just stayed like that, breathing each other’s air and sinking into the moment. Page was nestled in Hendrix’s lap and after a while her even breathing mingled with others. Still, Hendrix and I stayed pressed against each other.
Eventually, my head fell to his shoulder again and I stayed wrapped in his warmth and strength. He placed a sweet kiss on the top of my head and then whispered that I should sleep. Vaughan and Nelson would take the first watch and he would wake me when it was my turn.
I closed my eyes, but couldn’t find sleep. And not because of the circumstances of our bed tonight. My mind kept running over everything Hendrix, Vaughan and their family had been through and I stopped wondering what made them so capable to survive this world. With their parents sacrifice, they had no choice but to stick together and come out alive. To do anything else would dishonor their parent’s memories.
They didn’t have to say that for me to understand.
It’s how I would have felt- how I did feel after my parents died needlessly at the hands, or rather mouths, of Feeders. All of these deaths were excessive and unfair. There was a world once upon a time in which Zombies only existed in movies and comic books. But there had also been a world once when scarlet fever and the common cold could easily kill.
Mankind was born with an innate instinct to improve, to investigate and to fix. We came up with vaccines, the internet and cheese graters. Surely someone was out there working on a cure for Zombie-ism even now. It wasn’t in our nature to hide, to cower in fear.
This was temporary.
This had to be temporary.
I didn’t trust humanity, but I believed in it. I believed that life would get easier again, that it would get better. That crumbling farm houses and fear would not last in my life, that they were only temporary. I would find a way to fight this, to make a comfortable life for myself and survive it all.
After tonight, I was bound and determined to bring the Parker brothers with me. Because like Haley and me, they deserved peace as much as anyone else.
And at the end of the long, weary day, that was all we wanted. Not a pretty house, or stable government, hell, even above daily hot showers and three healthy consistent meals, I wanted peace. Above everything else I wanted peace in my life and in all the lives of those I cared about.
But tonight was not going to be the night I got it.
The shrieking Zombie had returned.
I jolted to upright, even though I hadn’t been sleeping, when the ear-piercing screaming started up again right on the other side of the door. Hendrix’s hand ripped out from behind me as he reached for his second gun. I felt his eyes turn to me, even in the darkness as he waited for me to put my stunned brain back together and pick up my own weapon.
Page stayed asleep in his lap.
“What the holy hell?” Haley whispered as she quietly slid the magazine into her gun as well.
Another shrill scream sounded from a different direction and I noticed for the first time that the rain had finally stopped. The filthy window was finally lit up with the bright moonlight that peeked from behind the heavy cloud cover.
I squinted while staring at that window. Even through the layers of thick dust and dirt I could see figures lining up on a hillside. Slow, purposeful steps made it clear that they were threatening us, wanting us to drown in insecurity and fear.
Not going to happen.
Even while my mind screamed at the idea of them organizing. Still, they stood so thoughtfully, as if observing the now occupied farm and whether we were worthy to attack, or if they’d just wait for us to walk out of here in the morning and pick us off one by one.
They lined the hill in various states of decay and death. The smell of their rotting bodies wafted into our barn and permeated the air. Everyone was awake now, even Page. The window was so muddy; the figures appeared like black smudges in a line along the horizon.
I mentally tabulated the remaining weapons we had and knew it wasn’t enough, not unless we made each shot count- made each pull of the trigger into a kill shot.
Vaughan stood up first and we all followed suit. We shouldered our packs and tightened the straps as a unit. Checking our guns and clips, the sounds of metal clicking into place was the only noise to break up the tension.
“How many are there?” I asked, hoping if I got enough answers I’d be able to control my fear a little bit better.
“I can’t tell,” Vaughan answered. Which meant more than he wanted to admit out loud.
“Well, do you think we have enough weapons?”
“Reagan, there’s no way for me to know that.” Which meant no.
“If we engage are we going to bring Feeders from every county over here?” I bit out; frustrated that I wasn’t getting the answers I wanted.
“That’s always a chance, but it’s better that way than sticking around as easy bait,” Vaughan countered. “So to answer your question, I don’t know.”
I had a hundred more questions but I refrained from spouting them all- my curiosity was just an extension of my fear, of trying to grapple back some semblance of control. My anxiety always felt easier to control when I could manage the panic that threatened to take over.
“What do you know, babe?” I snapped, tired of the truth. I just wanted to be lied to, pacified. I would fight no matter what, but if I felt like I had a chance and a choice I was much easier to get to agree.
His voice raised a few decimals and I felt him look at me through the blackness of the room. “I know we’re going to survive this, I know we’re going to survive a lot of things. Yes, this is scary and yes, we don’t have enough bullets. But you just heard our sob story, Reagan. What makes you think I would,” he paused suddenly, cleared his throat of whatever emotion was brewing there and continued, “What makes you think any of us are willing to let go of something we care about? Whether we’re protecting Page or you and Haley, we are committed and willing to do anything to ensure everyone’s safety. We already lost people we loved deeply; we won’t make that mistake again.”
“I believe you,” I whispered weakly, just before a giant, muddy rock came sailing through that lone, grimy window.
We stared down at it and then back at the gaping hole in the window. A few strands of water came rushing inside and the cold night air filled the cabin in no time. As one, we swung our guns toward the now open window and Nelson was the first to point and aim and shoot.
But the rest of our gunfire immediately followed. The popping, rushing sound of guns filled the tiny barn as we pushed the door out with a mixture of shoving and shooting the wood.
We could see clearly now how the Feeders spread out in a single line along the entire horizon. They looked greedy, insane with hunger and brain-lust. They were crazed with the idea of a feast. We were like Golden Corral at lunch time for them- all you can eat.
This was going to be an extremely long night.
But we would stay and fight. And in the end we would survive.
Really though, after Hendrix opened up about his family, I had no choice but to stay, but to live through it. And not just because I felt some kind of obligation to him.
Oh no. This had everything to do with his family, how desperate I’d become to help him absolve any remaining left over guilt and protect his younger siblings.
I would fight for them, die for them even. Although after talking with Vaughan and deciding I couldn’t live without Hendrix either, I decided instead of doing the whole sacrificing my own life for the cause, I’d just survive inst
ead.
That was the most important thing- coming out of this together.
Of course there were other things to worry about in the grand scheme of things, but those would fall into place later. All that mattered right now was making it through the night.
Chapter Three
I followed Hendrix out of the barn. Harrison and King stayed back to protect Page and the rest of us went on the offensive- or defensive…. I wasn’t really sure which. I just knew there was a lot of killing about to be involved- from our end.
Nelson, Vaughan and Haley fanned out in front of us, picking off the line of Zombies the best they could in the darkness and from a distance. The moon offered little light, as it peeked through the heavy cloud cover up above, but at least it had stopped raining, for now. The ground was thick with mud and made walking and moving difficult but it wasn’t something I could think about or focus on. My feet sinking three inches into the ground with each step was the least of my worries.
And it was easy to ignore the obnoxious conditions we were forced to fight in when I had more important things to think about. Like hunting and killing and war and all that.
“We’re going around the barn, Reagan,” Hendrix ordered over his shoulder. “We’re going to find the one that can’t shut up.”
“I’ll go around, meet you at the back,” I offered, turning on my heel, prepared to divide and conquer.
Hendrix’s voice, harsh like steel and unrelenting, stopped me in my tracks, “You will stay behind me. I will not have this conversation with you again.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. I foolishly thought we’d moved beyond this whole thing- apparently not.
It was eerily quiet near the barn. I heard the door shut after we rounded the corner and had to assume it was Harrison or King. They were armed and waiting, but my anxiety over those three kids heightened every single one of my senses. I did not like leaving them alone, especially with an aggressive threat so close.
