by Fitch, E. M.
Kaylee rolled her eyes. Emma might pretend to be all tough and tomboyish, but she loved those teen romance novels.
“I’d prefer a good movie right about now,” Kaylee sighed. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen The Princess Bride or—”
“I thought you said a good movie?” Andrew interrupted, grinning at her. Kaylee scowled and threw a sock at him.
“You love it too,” she argued, frowning as he ducked her terrible throw.
“I don’t, I just watched it ‘cause you wanted to,” he retorted smugly. “I’m a gentleman,” he added, thrusting his chest out and jabbing it with his thumb like a two-year-old.
“Right,” Kaylee snorted, bending over to pick up the sock and put it back in the basket. Andrew took the basket from her when she had finished and began his walk to the door.
“Now, Alien, that would be great!” he continued, his eyes far-away looking as though he was remembering his first glimpse of Sigourney Weaver in her underwear. Kaylee didn’t get it; she just could not understand what men found so attractive about that movie. Though by Aliens, the arsenal did get pretty impressive. “And it might not be impossible, you know. Even if we’re all that’s left, electricity is still an option.”
“Not in the summer,” Kaylee murmured, following in Andrew’s wake towards the stairs. “At least not here.”
“Yeah, right,” he answered, looking back at her over his shoulder. “Not here.”
Kaylee had heard this before. It was one of the reasons she thought leaving the city wouldn’t be so bad, if she wasn’t so terrified of the actual journey. There were ways, out of the city, to generate electricity. They had a generator here, but it required gasoline and couldn’t handle very much and so was only used on the coldest days in the middle of the winter to keep them all from freezing. It broke down all the time and Bill was constantly swearing at it while he hovered over it with his set of tools. In the country there would be streams, running water, homes already equipped with large generators for when the snow and bad weather knocked their power out. If they got really lucky they could even stumble into a hydroelectric plant. Andrew had been studying every book he could find about them.
“You’re starting to sound so much like your dad,” Kaylee muttered, hanging her head and bumping into him when he stopped walking. Andrew turned and put the laundry down.
“It wouldn’t be such a bad thing Kay,” he murmured, grasping her by the upper arms and looking down at her. “We can’t stay here forever, things just won’t last the way they are. They can’t.” Kaylee looked up at him and noticed how he eyes had gone soft and serious; how his lips had moistened, as though he had just licked them; how his head was lowering towards her. He wasn’t just talking about the food supplies or the need for electricity now. What he was talking about was so much more complicated than all of those mundane things.
But it shouldn’t be, a voice whispered in her mind.
“Andrew,” she murmured, her voice low and hushed yet infused with hesitancy. It was not the tone he wanted, not the tone he hoped for and she knew that. His eyes closed and he held still, exhaling slowly.
“Right,” he said, his voice was slightly strangled as his hands slipped from her arms. He bent to pick up the laundry basket but before he could Kaylee stepped into his embrace. She hugged him tightly and felt him hunch into her, exhaling again.
“I’m sorry Drew, I just—”
“Don’t,” he muttered, squeezing her once before letting her go. “C’mon, let’s go put this away and then catch Emma reading trashy novels and pick on her for it.” Kaylee smiled as she followed him down the stairs.
“To your room first then?” she asked. Andrew looked back at her, eyebrow quirked.
“Your room’s closer.”
“Right, but you’re such a slob you’ll probably need help putting this all away and then cleaning up. Emma wants to know where you’ve been hiding the mustard stash, by the way, says it was terrible to clean it out of your shirts.”
“Tell her she’s a little brat,” Andrew retorted, the tips of his ears turning a dusky pink.
“Tell her yourself,” came Emma’s voice from the first landing. “And it was a bitch to get it all out.”
Andrew snorted. “Complain, complain. Try going on some raids and see how you like it.”
“Oh yeah, rounding up all the candy in the city must be so trying,” Emma teased as she followed Andrew and her sister down the next flight of stairs to the first floor. Andrew and his father shared a room on that floor, across from the living room and down the hall from the kitchen and one bathroom. Kaylee, Emma, Nick, and Anna all took rooms on the floor above. Anna had wanted to set up a makeshift infirmary in her room and so she was given the biggest, the old training room the fire fighters used. And of course the ground floor was the garage, housing the fire trucks and boarded up at every door and window.
“But what your asking Bill, it’s just not—”
“I’m not asking, I’m telling you Nick!”
The voices were hushed and yet all three could hear them clearly emanating from the living room when they finished climbing down to the first floor.
“Give him a minute, Bill,” came Anna’s voice; it was soft and hesitant, as though she knew Nick would hate what he was hearing.
“So you agree with this too?” Nick asked, his voice full of accusation.
“You know I don’t think we’re all that’s left,” Anna answered through Bill’s snort or disapproval, “but billions of people have died, Nick. Billions. We’re not talking just America, you know it spread. Europe was consumed. Africa’s gone. There are only pockets of survivors left and ours is the biggest we’ve seen in a year. What happens in two years? What about three? Does the human race die out with us, or should we go on?”
“But it’s my little girl.”
Kaylee fought to swallow at the defeated tone in her father’s voice. Her throat tightened.
“The point is Nick, we're going to grow out of this place. Do you think it won't happen eventually? We're not forcing anyone into anything, merely explaining. It's an eventuality, and we need to be prepared to leave this place before anything... happens.”
“Regardless of when it will happen, it can't happen here,” Bill’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere. “Face it Nick, we are going to outgrow this place. And I’d rather not travel with an infant in tow.”
Kaylee heard Emma’s sharp intake of breath and felt her eyes drill through the back of her head. The forearm that Andrew kept brushing by her suddenly seemed too close and her skin reacted with hot prickles.
They aren’t seriously… I mean, they can’t be thinking…
“But, the thought of re-population,” their father’s voice trailed off in a whisper. “It’s not a bit drastic?”
“Damn it, Nick!” A hand thudded into the table and Kaylee jumped back, landing on Emma’s foot.
“Ouch,” she hissed. Kaylee murmured an apology through numb lips. She felt her younger sister’s hands come up around her, hugging her from behind.
“What's drastic is staying shut up in this brick coffin! There's no life for us here, none!” Bill continued, sounding angry now. “Kaylee and Andrew are seventeen. Don't we owe them a safe place to grow, together or not? As for Emma—”
“No! We will not discuss Emma!” Nick’s voice was strong and forceful. Bill sputtered but Anna cut through.
“We may have found others by then,” she murmured, her voice soothing and calm.
“Right,” Bill faltered, his tone rough but conceding. “Maybe we’ll have found others.”
Kaylee felt a tug on her elbow and jerked her face towards Andrew. “We should go,” he mouthed at her, nodding to the stairs. She licked her lips and nodded, grabbing Emma by the hand and dragging her along.
Kaylee floated up the stairs in a daze.
Why had I never thought of this?
It had always seemed as though someone else would come. Even when the last of
the radio shows announced that rescue workers were quitting, that there were no more evacuation plans, that everyone was on their own. It had always seemed like help was just around the corner.
But it wasn’t. It isn’t now and it never will be. This is it. We’re all that’s left and the restart of billions of people will have to begin with me. With my child…
A sudden wave of nausea hit and Kaylee reeled from the thought. Anna couldn’t have children. She had said so before, explaining ovarian cysts to Emma and she months back. Was she just preparing Kaylee? Testing the water so to speak to find out whether Kaylee was ready to have children of her own. She hadn’t even been the slightest bit fazed by Anna lamenting the fact that she might never become pregnant. She remembered feeling a little sad for her that it would take so much effort when she was ready for children to have them. But she always thought there’d be some opportunity; that some wonderful, mysterious man would arrive to sweep Anna off her feet.
And what about Andrew? His father had been trying to convince Nick to leave the firehouse for months now. Was this just part of an elaborate plan to convince her father? Did Andrew know his father’s plan all along? Was that why he tried to kiss her just now on the roof?
Kaylee couldn’t remember the walk back up stairs and down the hall. The door to her room just leapt out at her out of nowhere.
“Em, wait inside for me?” she asked in a whisper, her eyes still focused on the end of the hall. For once, Emma did as she was asked without question.
“Did you know?” she asked Andrew as soon as the door shut behind her. Kaylee turned to watch him, her hands behind her back resting on the doorknob. The touch of cold metal kept her grounded. “Is that why you tried? Because you knew?”
“No!” His face paled and he looked appalled at her assumption. “How could you think that of me? Don’t you know?”
“Know?” Kaylee asked, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth.
“Kay, you must know,” his said, and his voice was soft and gentle. He watched her closely as he stepped forward, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. Kaylee swallowed.
He pulled her into an embrace, but it was not the crushing, friendly embrace from the roof. He folded her into himself, his hands settling low on her back, his mouth close to her neck. He nuzzled her lightly and inhaled deeply. When he spoke, his lips flit over her skin.
“I care for you, very much,” he whispered and though he had said the words a thousand times over, they were not the same. Kaylee found herself sinking into him, closing her eyes against the heat of his skin and breathing in the aroma she knew was his. He was familiar and comfortable and safe, and she knew it.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Kaylee wrenched herself from his arms.
“Hey, you two,” Anna said, waving over to them as she hauled the laundry up the stairs. “Did you leave it to Emma to put this away? Is that why it was left on the bottom of the staircase?”
Kaylee offered a wooden grin. “Must be,” she answered through a dry throat. Anna nodded knowingly.
“Well, I gave Nick and Bill their clothes, yours too Andrew. So just put your own away and we’ll be set,” Anna said, passing the basket to Kaylee. She waved as she retreated to her room and Kaylee gave a tight smile to Andrew before twisting the knob of her door and escaping into her room.
Chapter Three
A late summer wind flit through the gaps of the buildings and lifted the hair from the nape of Kaylee’s neck. The first batch of corn was ready for harvesting and she and her sister were trudging across the street, two empty wicker baskets between them. The infected were still moaning and twitching, but as the sun lowered steadily, their movements became less focused, less hostile. As long as Kaylee and Emma were careful, they could pick their way through the bodies, avoiding dulling teeth and grasping fingers.
“Sun’s almost down,” Emma grunted, giving a rotting old man a wide berth. “They’ll shut up then.”
“Right, and we won’t be able to see a thing,” Kaylee reminded her.
While some of their crops could be grown in shallow basins and roughly constructed boxes on the rooftop, nurtured by the tons of soil that Andrew and their fathers had hauled up there, the larger crops needed the deep earth and wide space that the park across the street provided. Using the protection of a chain-link fence that surrounded an old, overgrown baseball field, Nick and Bill had tilled and readied the dirt for several rows of crops. Tonight it was the corn that needed tending.
And dusk, just as the sun was finally setting, was the safest and easiest time to complete this task. The purple haze that the light left in its’ wake was just enough to illuminate the field without the dangerous use of lanterns or flashlights. Because after all, even a chain-link fence might succumb to a growing horde of infected who sensed a good meal behind the metal links.
As the girls stepped from the cracked pavement of the street to the dusty edge of the park, Kaylee scanned the fence for damages. Ripened or not, if they could easily get to it, the infected would trample through the garden, devouring the roughage in their wake. But tonight, the fence was intact, the chains and combination lock still in place. It had survived one more day and Andrew and his father would not have to worry about repairing anything in the park that night. As it was, Bill had discovered a loosened fastening over a window on the ground floor of the fire station that needed immediate attention. The men would be checking and re-soldering the metal hangings that completely obscured the large glass windows for a majority of the night.
Emma set her basket down and turned, keeping her eye on the street and her back to her sister as Kaylee expertly undid the lock. Kaylee saw her wave out of the corner of her eye. Their father and Andrew could leave the roof now; the girls would be safe soon. The chains fell, slinking, from their place around the cold metal posts and they were able to push through and seal the exit behind them.
“Birds must’ve been at it again,” Emma muttered, fingering some broken stalks. Kaylee frowned. It was unusual for the city birds to really bother with the corn, especially with enough gusto to break stalks; but then, they must be hungry too.
“You alright, Kay?” Emma asked, her eyes tactfully averted to the corn, examining the silk of the ears for readiness.
“Yeah,” Kaylee answered, moving from her sister down the row, not really wanting to talk about how terrible her mood had been over the past week.
It wasn’t as though she had never thought about sex. She was seventeen. She was living in the city, had been going to school; she knew as much as the next normal teenager and thought about it just as often as well. But she had always pictured herself waiting, like the good girl her mother had expected her to be. She knew sex had consequences and she wanted to be fully prepared to handle those consequences with a man, a husband, she loved. And to hear her father, her neighbor, and her trusted friend talk about her mating as an end to save the human race: it had just unsettled her. The dream that she had so staunchly held onto, dating, nice walks, slow kisses, friendship and trust and companionship and commitment, all of it; it was gone. Vanished, ripped away, forgotten.
And really, how naïve am I?
Kaylee had asked herself this over and over the past week. It had been a year: a year with no contact, no help, no answers. No one was coming. No one was out there. They were it. Which really meant Andrew and she were it. She would not pass this burden to her sister. Emma was so young, so impulsive. It shouldn’t sit on her shoulders, not now.
And yet the thought of having children with Andrew left her cold. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, in a way she did. It wasn’t that he wasn’t attractive, he was. It was that being with him would be truly giving up on everything she had ever wanted and the knowledge that that was to come froze her. The past week she had been unable to look at him, fearful he would translate her anger and frustration at the entire situation into dislike of him. She didn’t dislike him. She was grateful to him; grateful that he was a good friend, that
he was kind and he never pushed her.
And it was more than once that Kaylee felt tears burn her eyelashes at the thought of what her mother would say to all of this.
But Emma had really been fantastic. Kaylee had left Andrew in the hall that night, his eyes pleading with her to not shut the door on him, and collapsed straight away on her bed, the tears hot on her cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Kay,” Emma had said, sitting by her side, the mattress dipping slightly at her weight. Kaylee had not responded but Emma continued anyway. “I know that’s not how you would have wanted things. I know it’s shitty.”
“Watch your mouth,” Kaylee had chastised through her tears, lifting her face to attempt a smile at her sister. She failed, though she had thought Emma understood.
“It’s shitty,” she had continued, “but it’s not that horrible. They’re not talking about tonight; they’re talking eventually. Bill just really wants a way to convince Dad we have to leave. And, besides, there are worse things out there than Andrew. He’ll treat you right. He’s a good guy.”
Her calm sensibility had reeled Kaylee in. She had sat with her the rest of the night, gently teasing and bolstering her mood; by morning she had felt less wretched, just naïve and silly for not seeing it before. She had a nagging suspicion that Emma had not been all that shocked, that she had understood far before she did.
But even though she was slowly accepting it, she still didn’t like it. Kaylee grit her teeth through a frown as she wandered to the end of the row of corn. The stalks were high now, heavy and thick with produce. She could no longer see her sister, though she knew she’d be safe in the fenced area. The sun was less than a sliver on the horizon and the sky overhead was dusky purple marked with the appearance of silver stars. Kaylee threw the wicker basket in the middle of the row and bent to examine the silky strands protruding from the largest ears of corn. Picking only those with a dark, full nest of silk, Kaylee began to rip the husks from the stalks.
