This is the End 2: The Post-Apocalyptic Box Set (9 Book Collection)

by J. Thorn

  Mostly because I avoided looking at him.

  It was harder to ignore now though, with his body touching almost every inch of me, his hands clutched against my hips, his breath fanning out across my nape. I shivered- it couldn’t be helped.

  Reagan glanced back at me from one of the captain’s chairs in our wood paneled, dated Chrysler Town and Country and gave me an “are you Ok” look. I tried to smile at her, but my body was shaking with nervous energy and I knew I looked pathetically unnerved.

  Page was sleeping across her lap, sprawled out and heavy with exhaustion, but Reagan wiggled her arm around the back of the chair and took my hand. I relaxed a touch.

  We were in this together, joined at the soul. We were Zombie Apocalypse sorority sisters; there was no one who had my trust or my respect more than that raven-haired vixen.

  The van was relatively quiet as we traveled through rural Arkansas. The last several days had been taxing on all of us.

  After a couple run-ins with the locals- who tended to set up shop, aka settlements, along the highway- we opted for the more scenic route south. But it hadn’t exactly been peaceful and Zombie-free. Reagan had a relatively detailed map of the lower US and Mexico, so we were navigating our way utilizing paper methods. Travel had been slow and bloody- and with all the carnage, it was easy to keep our eyes focused on a Feeder-free goal. Even if the utopia we searched for didn’t really exist. Our sanity lay in the hope and promise of a better life to come.

  I still kept my old smart phone with me as a souvenir of where we came from- like as a society, not literally what town I was from. It was my homage to the age of technology before technology died a fast, agonizing death. Plus, it had all of my pictures from the last two years of my thriving, youthful existence before the infection. Not to mention, my coveted iPod app. So if there was ever consistent electricity again…

  Sometimes my fingers itched to pull it out and Google our location or look up the closest Chick-Fil-A, or turn on my music and fade away in the blissful sound. I kept waiting for the sensation to fade, for my habit of using the entire atmosphere of information to stop kicking in every single time I wanted to know something. But the inclination stayed, no matter how much time had passed since I’d actually surfed the web. My fingers remained restless and my brain remained unfed.

  One of Nelson’s hands slid from my hip to splay out across my stomach, hidden beneath my shirt. His hand radiated heat against my bare skin and my heart beat kicked into overdrive with a panicked rhythm. I jerked from the sensation, not at all sure what to do with the overwhelming feel of him.

  I hadn’t been touched intimately in two years, four days. Not since the underwhelming night of senior prom, when my date, Taven Meyers, booked us a hotel room, made out with me for four minutes, thirty-eight seconds, got himself all the way to second base and then threw up in my hair. It was a night to be remembered…

  I didn’t even understand why he’d gotten so plastered. I was the one giving up my v-card! I should have been the one reaching for liquid courage.

  The only thing that trumped vodka-puke in prom hair was in fact Zombie remains- but barely.

  Nelson’s nose made a gentle trail across my neck, coming to rest against the top of my shoulder. He was seconds away from placing a kiss there- I was positive. And even though there was fabric between my skin and his lips I had the intuitive foresight that I would feel that kiss to the deepest part of my spine.

  I whipped my head around, too afraid of that feeling than anything I’d faced yet, and glared at him. “You’re awfully brave, Nelson Parker. Did you forget my gun is loaded?”

  He smirked at me, that know-it-all, cocky grin of his. I had never even seen him look remotely smug around anyone else. I couldn’t tell if I brought out the worst in him or the best. It was much too early to tell.

  And I would know- I would know everything- before I ever gave him a real shot. It wasn’t like I had a backup plan if we turned out to be toxic for each other. And I so did not want to be one of those couples that threatened to feed each other to Zombies every waking moment because they couldn’t get along, but there were no other viable options for them to procreate with.

  “I think his is too,” Harrison goaded.

  Back to being an overly ripe tomato.

  “Omg, you are such a pervert! You so belong in high school.” I punched him in the arm, but my weak fist just bounced right off his superhumanly strong bicep. “Ow! How are you so strong for a child?”

  He grinned at me, pulling up his shirt sleeve and flexing a muscle no boy his age should have developed yet- hello side-effects of a hard life.

  “Oooh,” I cooed, slipping a hand around it to squeeze. Anything to distract me from the hand I hadn’t seemed able to remove from under my shirt yet. I squeezed Harrison’s bulging muscle again, “Oooh baby!”

  Nelson pulled his hand out from under my shirt and removed my fingers from Harrison’s bicep by threading his fingers through mine and bringing both our hands back to my lap. “Alright, he gets it. You think he’s strong.”

  He sounded so jealous and territorial I almost laughed out loud. But I couldn’t, because even now tingles of exhilaration spread out from the center of my chest to the tips of my fingers and toes. My vision seemed to fade in and out and my breathing picked up with the excitement.

  I didn’t know if I wanted Nelson yet. But I certainly didn’t not want him.

  “Jealous, big brother?” Harrison chuckled. “Don’t be resentful because all the ladies want me.”

  “Yep, all the ladies,” Reagan laughed.

  “Please no fighting,” Harrison gestured back and forth between us. “There’s plenty to go around.”

  King snorted from the other captain’s chair and Nelson brought me closer to him, settling me deeper against his chest. He shifted my voluminous- thanks to the lack of available hair product- wavy blond hair with his nose so he could whisper in my ear.

  His lips danced across my earlobe, pushing me further into his net of heart-entrapment. “He’s not the Parker you want, Haley. I promise you that.”

  With as much bravado as I could muster I nodded my head, scraping the line of my jaw against the stubble on his chin. “I know that. I’ve been able to narrow it down to the other three.”

  “Other?” he asked in a flat voice.

  “Yes, your other three brothers,” I agreed as seriously as I could manage. “Harrison lost in the most recent elimination. And you were out of the game a long, long time ago.”

  “You’re such a smartass.” And then he was tickling me- like the terrible kind, when you can’t breathe, and it almost hurts there’s so much sensation and you’re afraid you’re going to pee your pants. Tears were forming in my eyes and I was thrashing wildly on his lap and he still gave no sign of stopping- despite my pleading/screaming that he did.

  “Holy shit! Take your seat back!” Harrison cried a bit desperately when I accidently kicked him in the shin. “For the love of God take your seat back!”

  Nelson stopped immediately and wrapped his arms around my middle. His chin rested on my shoulder- his scruff gently abrading the skin along my throat- words failed at how amazing that familiar gesture felt.

  “We’ll be good,” Nelson promised, tightening his arms around my waist. “Promise. We’ll be good.”

  I tried to look down at him, but he was holding me too tightly against him. I couldn’t quite see his face. But the serious tone in his voice unsettled me; it was too intense- too possessive.

  I didn’t argue. I knew better. Nelson was not going to give up this fight and I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of everyone. Besides, the intimacy, the protective shield he formed around me- it all felt… amazing.

  So in order to save my brain from overanalyzing every single detail about what was happening and in an attempt to avoid memorizing his breathing pattern, I turned my attention out the window.

  I wasn’t ticking anymore, but I used the technique that came in hand
y for when I was. I observed.

  I was very, very observant- like Sherlock Holmes observant. I always had been. It was a skill that had helped keep Reagan and I alive the last few years. Well, my powers of perception and her unshakable aim.

  It wasn’t something I could turn off or ignore. It just happened to me. My brain was on, constantly. There was no shutting down, no relaxing, no unwinding. My mind worked at full power, every waking moment- and some sleeping ones too.

  It used to be hell to walk into familiar places, because the minute details were already memorized so my brain would search out everything new and different and wrong. It was like playing “Eye Spy” with those big books that had pages full of jumbled scenery and setups- only every single minute, of every single day.

  I would walk in the house after a long day of school and immediately know that my dad had left the coffee pot on all day. He’d remembered to rinse out the pot, but the numerous hours of dripping had burnt the bottom anyway. The right side of the couch was getting more attention than the left side- the cushions were more worn and depressed; it sagged just a little on that side. The last time he walked into the house, he opened the door too hard; there was a mark on the drywall. The upstairs bathroom sink was dripping.

  Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

  Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

  I was mostly likely a genius, although I’d never let him test me. My dad actually was a genius- like a legit one. He was a professor of chemical science at Drake University and worked in their research labs as well. He was crazy smart.

  And probably so was I.

  But the thought of being sent away to a different school, or the idea of living my life with that title plastered above my head in glaring neon lights didn’t really work for me. I didn’t like labels and I didn’t want to live my life with a certain set of expectations. I just wanted to be me.

  And normal.

  So I kept it all a secret- hidden and buried under my over active brain and way beyond average memory. I worked not to learn things- I tried really hard to just be…. average.

  And for the most part it worked. There wasn’t a whole lot of difference between my dad and someone else’s non-genius dad. He just retained knowledge better and because of the demand his mind had on his body, he had a thirst to learn as much as he could. Maybe he had a more intellectually-demanding job than other dads, but he still arrived home tired, still fought office politics, still complained about his projects. We all ticked.

  But my dad and I just ticked faster and louder than others. And maybe our ticking was more demanding than most. We were forced to consume as much information as we could before our minds spiraled into insanity. There was a very slim line between functioning genius and raving lunatic.

  I had learned to control mine for the most part, without becoming a super computer. But it was harder now that there wasn’t anything to fill the hungry, demanding spaces of brain matter.

  Music used to be the only thing that could calm my racing thoughts. It would make the ticking stop completely and I would fade away into peaceful sound. But now, there was no music to occupy my waking moments.

  Only silence.

  And silence was a problem.

  “Solar panels,” I whispered first. And then excitement and hope sprinted through me, racing with the promise of a night filled with electricity and sound. I bounced up and down, forgetting Nelson was underneath me. “Solar panels!”

  “What?” Reagan was the first to catch on that I was saying something life changing. “Where?”

  “Over there. That farm house. I see them all over the roof!” They weren’t super obvious to the average eye, but I had noticed the sun reflecting at an odd angle off a mostly-hidden farmhouse. And then the closer we drove the more noticeable they became.

  “Solar panels,” Nelson agreed, sounding both awed and anxious.

  I didn’t blame him. This could either be really good.

  Or really bad.

  “You really want to check it out?” Vaughan asked hesitantly from the front seat.

  “I haven’t seen any kind of civilization or settlement in a full day,” Hendrix put in.

  A full day was roughly six hours of driving, maybe a little less. Between the terrible road systems this far off the highway, the lack of readily available gas, and having to stop and set up somewhere safe-ish each night, we weren’t able to travel very far per day.

  “We don’t know what’s beyond it though,” King wisely argued.

  “But it’s solar panels or nothing.” I didn’t know if I was being reckless because I craved electricity like an addict or if it was intuition that pushed me toward the decision to stop. Either way, we could be walking into a Zombie trap. Of course, that was potentially a problem wherever we stopped. So it was either now or later. We weren’t in a hurry to get to Mexico. And I could charge my iPod. “If we stay on these back roads we’re going to stay at a place just like this anyway. But it probably won’t have working electricity.”

  “Haley’s got a point,” Vaughan agreed softly. He slowed the van to a stop in front of a long, gravel drive. We sat idling in the road, staring up at the seemingly empty farmhouse.

  We stayed there for a long time, waiting for movement, waiting for Zombies to pop out of every unseen place at the sound of the engine rumbling, waiting for a holed up, half-insane farmer to come barreling out of the front door spitting tobacco, angry shotgun in hand.

  Nothing happened. Not for fifteen full minutes.

  All of our nerves pulled tight with apprehension. Now we were wasting precious gas, now we were sitting ducks. A decision had to be made.

  Finally, Vaughan took a deep breath and announced, “Anywhere else could be just as dangerous. We check it out. If we don’t like it, we get back in the van and keep going. It’s still a little early to settle down, so if this doesn’t work, we find a better place. Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” we agreed in subdued voices.

  This was our plan. Our plan potentially included electricity. And now I was smiling and couldn’t stop.

  “You are really excited about those solar panels aren’t you?” Nelson asked quietly as Vaughan drove the rust-bucket van up the driveway and around to the back of the house.

  “Maybe,” I grinned.

  “We don’t know what we’ll find inside,” he reminded me somberly.

  “True,” I agreed. “Still, it’s the possibility of what’s inside, isn’t it?”

  In a deep rumble of fierce agreement, Nelson answered, “I can’t argue with that.”

  I turned my attention back to the house, not able to have that conversation with him. Was he talking about me? Or trying to convince me to give him a chance? Or was he seriously just talking about the house?

  Suddenly I did not feel very smart anymore.

  Thanks a lot, Nelson.

  Not that I’d ever really tried at the super brain powers thing anyway. But there was something painfully frustrating about a simple boy making me feel stupid. Is this what happened when a girl truly started to fall for a boy? Our brains turned to mush and we resorted to giggling and blushing?

  God, that could not happen to me.

  I was not that girl. I was not that girl. I was not that girl.

  And then I shivered noticeably when he pulled his hand from underneath my shirt, brushing his fingers gently against my skin on the way.

  Maybe I was that girl just a little bit.

  Vaughan turned off the car and instead of the noise from the engine, the clicking of clips and magazines filled the silence instead. Page woke up by stretching on Reagan’s lap and then tumbling to the floor, on top of more ammo and a few packs. Her grunt of pain had all five of her brothers scowling down at her in concerned uneasiness.

  She was a lucky little girl- even in the middle of a Zombie Apocalypse.

  She smiled sheepishly up at everyone and then brushed her hair underneath her stocking cap. General rule of conduct had Page pretending to be a boy whenever there were
potential humans around. Reagan and I were beyond the years where our figures could be confused for the opposite sex, but Page was still young enough to be convincing. And every time she got away with it, we breathed a little bit easier and whispered grateful prayers- unable to stop ourselves.

  “Hendrix and I will go in first, Nelson, Harrison and King on the outside of the van, Reagan and Haley stay with Page inside.” Vaughan snapped out his commands with the authority that came naturally to him and then a half a second later we were following obediently.

  Nelson pressed a hand to my neck, holding me possessively for a moment. His thumb rubbed against the hollow of my throat, and his fingers pressed into my skin before slipping out from underneath me. My skin felt singed from his touch, branded and marked. I ignored the frantic pattering of my heart that whispered all kinds of hopes and secrets. That was more than a simple gesture of affection.

  That was one of those things that couldn’t be unexplained, that seemed so unassuming and easy, but I felt in every single one of my extremities, in the marrow of my bones. That was a goodbye if it was necessary. That was an emotion so deep and serious that I couldn’t put a name on it.

  That was a promise to protect me.

  And if he could manage that- a promise to continue to pursue me.

  My mind swam in a tumultuous ocean of thoughts. I didn’t know how I felt, or how I should feel. But I could recognize the way my blood felt on fire, how my skin tingled and pricked at the memory of his touch, how my heart pounded away in my chest, beating a rhythm of excitement and anticipation.

  Even if in my head I was confused about my future with Nelson. My body seemed perfectly attuned to where this was going.

  And that scared me more than the potential Zombie threat lurking just a few yards away.

  The van door slid shut with a creaking bang and then Reagan and I were left alone with Page. She seemed sleepy still and a little bit cranky. She didn’t get irritable often, but every once in a while she acted her age.

  And I thought that was a good thing.