“Weirder than letting me see your tits five minutes after we met?”
I didn’t say anything. I could feel the crimson covering my face. Why did he have to say it? Why did he have to bring it up? I don’t know what I had expected. Part of me had hoped he wouldn’t say anything. Part of me hoped he had forgotten, even though I knew it wasn’t possible.
“Hey,” he touched me softly on the arm, “I’m just giving you a hard time. I’m really sorry about that, Paige. I know it was weird. I just wanted to make sure nothing bad was going to happen to my family. And,” he added, “for what it’s worth, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re gorgeous.”
I didn’t say anything back. I just smiled softly. Did he really mean that? It wasn’t something I heard often – or ever, really – from guys. I wasn’t the type of girl guys really considered to be pretty. Sure, I thought I looked okay, but most people thought I was very ordinary looking, very plain. It was nice to be noticed.
He led me to what I assumed was his bedroom and started shuffling through his drawers. “I don’t know that I have much that will fit you, but these will probably do.” He gave me a clean sweatshirt and stretchy pajama pants. It was true that I was much smaller than him, but I appreciated the gesture. “Hang on,” he said, darting into the other bedroom and coming back with a pair of clean panties and a sports bra. “Again,” he said, blushing just slightly, “I can’t promise they’ll fit, but I’m sure Grams won’t mind.”
“Thank you,” I carried the clothing into the bathroom and shed my dirty, smelly clothes. I glanced at myself in the mirror for a moment before turning on the shower and climbing into the hot, steaming water. I was thrilled that they still had electricity. The water cascaded off my body and dirt swirled around in the bottom of the tub. I tried to wash quickly but the water was tempting. Finally, I scurried out and dried myself with one of the pink fluffy towels that was neatly folded on a shelf.
The clothes sort of fit, but I was glad to have something fresh to wear. I rinsed my own clothes with a little bit of soap and hot water as well as I could and hung them over the shower rod to air dry. Hopefully, by tomorrow I would be back in my own underwear. That was always enough to make a girl happy.
When I left the bathroom, Brian was sitting at the top of the stairs waiting for me.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, thanks for the pajamas. They fit well and they’re warm. It’s nice to be in something clean.”
“I figured as much. You were looking pretty sad.” Brian shot me a teasing smile, and I noticed again just how handsome he was. What was his story, I wondered? Did he live with his grandparents because he had to or because he wanted to? He had to have been my age, or maybe a little older.
“Hey now, I’d been walking in flip flops! Alone in the dark, too!” I gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.
“Flip flops? How are your feet feeling?” Brian suddenly glanced down, and we both examined my feet for a minute. As I had imagined, they were bruised pretty badly and felt about as terrible as they looked.“They look awful. Hang on.” He came back with some extra thick socks and handed them to me. “Try these.”
“These are incredible,” I commented. “Where did you buy these?”
“I wore them when I was in the Air Force.”
I glanced back at him. Okay, so he was older than me. “How long were you in the military?”
“Four years. I joined right out of high school.”
“So you’re 22?”
“23 now. I’ve been out for a few months and helping my grandparents around the farm. They could really use the extra hand and I don’t mind. I don’t really have anywhere else to be.”
“Where are your parents?”
“They died a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay. George and Sarah raised me from the time I was 14. They did a pretty fine job, too, if I do say so myself.” Silently, I agreed. We were still sitting at the top of the stairs, side by side. We were cozy, and I felt comfortable. I felt at ease, like nothing could get me here. Suddenly, I remembered my cell phone. It was still turned off. I wondered if I could get a text out to my mom.
“Hey, have you been able to make any phone calls or send any texts?” I asked Brian suddenly.
“No. The lines have been jammed. I tried yesterday for most of the day but gave up today. Gramps and I were listening to the radio for a few hours and when we finally heard something, it was that the cell towers were almost all down and that there have been widespread fires.”
“Fires? How did those happen? We never get fires here.”
“A lot of things contribute to it, really. Everyone dying means no firemen, no ambulances, and certainlyno saviors. Plus, a lot of people probably think this is the end of the world so they’re partying as hard as they can. Alcohol, smoking, and matches don’t exactly mix. And then you’ve got the people who are panicking and maybe even setting some fires on purpose to get things they need.”
“Like what? Who goes looting when everyone around you is sick?”
“You’d be surprised, Paige. People don’t always make rational decisions, especially when the world’s gone to hell in a hand basket. Think of all the moms who just needed one extra jar of formula or just one box of diapers. Think of the dads whose kids needed Tylenol or extra batteries for their handheld games. People do dumb shit. It’s human nature.”
“I guess you’re right.” I thought of Elizabeth and how she had been too scared to leave. I wondered what was worse: being too scared to go anywhere and dying alone, or being too confident and dying in a crowd of people. Part of me thought it was worse to die alone. I imagined it must be scary. Then again, dying in a group of people where no one saves you and no one even notices your pain must be horrifying, too.
“Did you try texting your folks?” Brian asked me. He looked compassionate and kind, not nearly as scary and terrifying as he had been yesterday. I realized that he was probably just doing his best to protect his grandparents. He’d said it before and I was sure that he’d say it again that having strangers around probably wasn’t the best idea. I wondered how long it would take George to trust me and feel comfortable around me. Probably too long: by the time he trusted me, I’d already be well on my way.
“I tried, but I don’t know if it went through. My phone was about to die so I shut it off. I should probably check it.”
“I have a charger in the living room you can use.”
“Thanks, Brian. I’m sure it’s no good, but worth a shot.”
He showed me where the power cord was and I noticed again that Sarah wasn’t in the living room. “Hey,” I asked him. “Where’s Sarah?”
“She’s asleep upstairs. She’s been really tired lately so she kind of falls asleep wherever she can. She was having a hard time getting comfortable on the couch this afternoon so I helped her upstairs.”
“Oh, okay, I was just wondering.”
“I’m going to go see what Gramps is up to. Let me know if you need any help with the charger.” I nodded and Brian disappeared.
I plugged my phone in and turned it on. Within minutes it beeped to life and, to my surprise, played the little tune to let me know I had a text. Daring to hope, I clicked my “messages” tab and was relieved and overjoyed to see it was a text from my mom! My excitement was short lived, however, when I opened the message and read what she had to say.
In all caps, my mother had written:
NOT SAFE. DON’T COME. RUN. HIDE. DON’T COME.
Chapter 9
I wanted to scream but I didn’t.I texted my mom back quickly.
What’s wrong? You okay?
I locked my phone and set it down for a minute before taking a deep breath. My heart was racing and I was suddenly more terrified than I’d ever been. Up until now I had assumed that my mom would be okay. After all, what could happen to my parents? They were survivalists. They were tough. They were my mom and
dad. They were everything. What could possibly be wrong?
I curled up in my chair and pulled a blanket over myself. My phone was next to me on the loudest setting. If my mom texted me back, I would hear it. I waited for what felt like hours but finally drifted off into a restless sleep. I didn’t say goodnight to Brian or George and I still hadn’t seen Sarah, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was trying to find out what happened to my parents. I felt now, more than ever, an urgency to get home. If my mom thought her message would keep me away, she was crazy.
Brian shook me awake in the morning. The sun was up but the house was dark.
“The power’s out,” he whispered. “Get up.”
“What happened?” I asked, still groggy from my rest.
“It just went out. No word on the radio. George is worried.”
“Don’t you guys have a generator?” I asked. I had assumed that was what had been keeping the house bright and cheerful. Now, in the dim lighting, it seemed dreary and just as sad as the rest of the world. What had been a haven and a quiet place just a day ago was now just as hopeless as everywhere else.
Brian shot me a questioning glance. He was annoyed with my callous attitude. “No” was all he said, but his face said much more. Mostly, “You should be grateful we haven’t kicked you out yet” and “Show some respect.”
“I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “I shouldn’t have assumed. I just figured since the power had been on so long that you guys had some sort of backup power.” I felt like I had spent more time in the last two days apologizing for my behavior than I had in my entire 19 years prior.
“We were just lucky. Now we need a game plan. George doesn’t know what to do.”
“About what?”
“Sarah has cancer,” Brian told me. “That’s why she’s been so tired. She’s out of meds and was supposed to go for a treatment yesterday, but the hospital completely shut down the day before you got here. Not only are they out of power and gas, but the hospital staffing is laughable. Everyone has either died or gotten sick, and the people who aren’t dead or sick are taking care of family members who are. That means no more routine chemo treatments, no more regular surgeries, no more clinic visits. Everyone has shut down.”
I sat speechless in my chair for a moment. “Is there anything we can do?”
“Just make her as comfortable as possible,” Brian sighed. “She’s near the end now. And before you go apologizing again,” he held up a hand, “don’t. She’s been the happiest these last few days that she’s been in a long time. She likes having a girl to look after. She always wanted a daughter but she was stuck with my dad and now me. George wants to move her, to go looking for a hospital that’s open, but we all know it’s useless. This thing hit everywhere at the same time, from what I can tell, and running away is only going to make her die faster.”
“I’m really sorry. I had no idea. You’ve already lost so much.” It was hard not to cry. Even though Brian was a stranger, really, there had been so much death, so much loss the last few days that this just seemed like too much. I knew Sarah was old, had probably been sick for a long time, and seemed to be at peace with the idea, but it still stung. She didn’t deserve to die like this: without a chance. I had always taken it for granted that if I got sick I could go to a doctor, but the reality hit me again and again. Not anymore.
“Brian,” I asked, still curled up in my chair. “How long do you think this is going to last?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you think the power is going to come back up? Are things going to return to normal?”
“Paige, things are never going to be ‘normal’ again.”
I nodded. That’s what I thought, but to hear it from his lips felt harsh and cold. Finally, I realized that I needed to man up. I had taken a lot from them the past few days and my feet were feeling better this morning. It was time to either help out or leave.
“Do you want me to leave?” I asked Brian bluntly. “I still need to go to my mom’s house. She sent me this text,” I handed him the phone, “and I need to get to her, but it’s going to take me a few days and one or two more probably won’t make a difference. I’ll stay here if you need me. I can be here for you and Sarah.”
Brian stared at my phone for a minute before telling me, “Paige, you can’t go.”
“What?”
“You can’t go. Did you even read this? Something happened.”
“What could have possibly happened that I can’t go see my own parents?” I snatched the phone back. “They need me.”
“They’re probably infected, maybe even dead. You have no way to know, and what’s going to happen once you get there? You going to save them? You can’t save them, Paige. You can’t. If they’re infected, they’re dead. And if you expose yourself, you’re going to be dead, too.”
“I’ve already been exposed,” I told him quietly.
“What do you mean? When?”
“My roommate. My roommate died of it, of the virus.”
“But you didn’t get it, so you must not have been exposed. It’s not airborne. If it was, we’d all be dead.”
“But surely, surely I must have touched her at some point. I hugged her,” I commented, remembering our final embrace.
“The last news report I heard said they think it’s only transmittable through bodily fluids. So unless she coughed on you or the two of you were making out-“ Was that a twinkle in his eye? “-I’m pretty sure you’re going to be okay. And as for leaving, I think you should stay a few more days. Your feet were pretty torn up yesterday. Let your body rest a few days. You know you’re welcome, and it makes Sarah happy to have someone to look after, but I could use help cutting up some firewood.”
“Firewood?”
“It’s going to get pretty cold without the heater.”
Brian got me set up with a heavy jacket and a pair of his old boots. While they were far too big, they kept my feet warm in the chilly weather. He led me outside where the two of us spent the morning chopping and hauling firewood to the house. There were a few logs that were already cut, but most of what we had to do was cut up the pile of shrubbery by the trucks. Suddenly, I remembered my bag. Before we began chopping, I retrieved it and dropped it on the front porch. Brian shot me a questioning glance and I shrugged. He didn’t ask any questions and I didn’t offer an explanation. After all, what would I say? “I’m sorry I thought your family was going to murder me and I didn’t want you to steal my granola bars?”That would be a great way to start off the day.
Brian handed me an axe and showed me how to hold it. Handling an axe was something I had never done, despite my farm upbringing. My dad had always insisted on being the one to chop firewood or slaughter the chickens. I supposed he thought it was a man’s job and no place for a woman. Here I was though, in the new, dead world, chopping firewood and doing a great job.
I heaved the axe up and brought it down on a particularly thick log. It sliced neatly in half and I couldn’t help but grin. Working hard for something felt good. Physical labor, using all of your skill and strength to accomplish something real and useful, it felt amazing. Before we were even finished, I was exhausted. I wondered if Brian was, too, but from the way he swung his axe and carried the wood to the ever-growing pile by the house, I doubted he was. He was still in great shape from being in the military and it suited him well. For the millionth time, I regretted my poor college-student diet choices. Surviving on ramen and cafeteria food had done nothing for my endurance.
“You’re doing great,” Brian encouraged me, but when I looked at his neatly sliced firewood and my sloppily, unevenly split wood, I knew he was just being nice. I smiled and nodded and continued working self-consciously. Once we’d split enough firewood for a few days, we carried it to the back porch and lined it neatly by the back door.
Heading inside, we kicked off our boots and Brian turned to me. “There might be a little bit of hot water left. You can take a shower first
and I’ll get started on a fire. By the time you get out, the house should be at least a little warmer.”
Thankful, I nodded and headed upstairs. My clothes were still hanging neatly over the side of the shower and I was happy to see that they were dry and smelled like body wash. After my quick shower that was definitely lukewarm, but thankfully not cold, I slipped into my clothes. It felt good to wear something of my own. I washed the pajamas, socks, and underwear Brian had loaned me in the sink and hung them on the towel rack. It wasn’t an ideal way to get laundry clean, but it should work for now.
The fire was roaring when I came downstairs and everyone was gathered in the living room, warming their chilled bodies. “Still a little hot water left,” I told Brian as I settled onto the chair that was now most definitely mine.
“Thanks, I’ll go hop in now.” Brian tossed another log on the fire, kissed his grandmother gently on the cheek, and headed upstairs.
“So Paige, Brian tells me you’re in college,” Sarah commented with a gentle smile. “How are you enjoying your classes?” George said nothing and just stared at the fire. I knew now, after talking to Brian, that he was probably just worried about his wife. It must be difficult to grow old with someone, to share your life with someone, only to find that they’re about to die and you can’t do anything to stop it or to make them more comfortable. I couldn’t imagine how scared and helpless he must feel. I doubted George was the type of guy who would ever admit it, but I had a new respect for him knowing how strong he was and how well he was coping with everything.
“I like them,” I told Sarah. “I’m majoring in English so I have a lot of writing classes. They’re all pretty interesting with lots of reading and research. What about you? Did you go to college, Sarah?”
“Oh, no, Dear,” she said with a laugh and a wave. “I met George when I was very young and we got married right away. We just couldn’t bear to be apart,” she gave his hand a soft squeeze and he smiled at her. It was the first time I’d seen him really smile. George’s love for Sarah was obvious, even after all this time. “And then we had our baby, so I stayed home to raise him. And then, of course, by the time we were done and I was thinking about going to work, little Brian came along.”
Never Look Back: A Dystopian Novel Page 8
