No Looking Back

by Kate L. Mary

  Our first order of business had been Max. What were we supposed to do with a man who beat his wife? Even more complicated: How did we deal with the situation when his wife didn’t want us to interfere?

  Ultimately, we’d decided to send them on their way. She’d been unwilling to speak out against her husband, and Max was of the mindset that it was none of our business. I’d hated doing it, but it was our only option. Now, months later, I couldn’t see it any differently. We had to do everything we could to keep our group strong, and that meant keeping us united. We couldn’t be united when we were harboring an abusive and co-dependent couple, and even though I believed they’d most likely perished out there on their own, I also stood by the decision we made that day. These were tough times, and we had to make tough choices.

  It had helped that no one in the settlement spoke out against the council’s decision.

  I spent the morning curled up on my bed, reading and dozing, pretending I wasn’t in an RV I’d helped steal from an abandoned dealership, but instead back in the little house I’d owned on the other side of town. It was the weekend, Sunday afternoon to be exact. I’d spent Friday night out on the town, drinking, flirting, and eventually picking up a guy who’d taken me back to his place. After sneaking out while he was still asleep, I’d caught an Uber home where I slept off my hangover. Sunday morning was spent grading papers, and now, having recovered and caught up on work, I was enjoying a book and a glass of wine—or three.

  That had been my average weekend for the five years following my breakup with Landon and preceding the virus. As a single woman who taught tenth grade English at the very high school I’d graduated from, I’d been forced to put on a demur face throughout the week, but during the weekend my life had often felt too empty to be tolerable. The only cure had been drinking and partying so I could forget my monotonous and stifling existence.

  Everything had changed with the virus. The people around me started getting sick, each of them dying off until I was totally alone in this world. I lost my grandma, my parents, my siblings, my nieces and nephews. Every friend I had in the area. The electricity shut off, then the water. The small town I’d always lived in had turned into a ghost town almost over night, only to be transformed into something that resembled the set of a horror movie shortly after that. The dead had taken over, pulling themselves out of beds and opening doors, stumbling down the streets in search of something living they could sink their teeth into. It had felt unreal, but at the same time had been the most real thing I’d ever experienced.

  I’d fought to survive. For whatever reason, after years of not fighting for my life, I’d made the choice not to give up.

  Coming from a gun family—my dad had loved to hunt, fish, and had even taught gun safety courses—I was familiar with firearms. No, I’d never shot at something moving, but I’d fired a gun more than once. Thankfully, the zombies weren’t that fast. I’d gathered weapons, taking the guns and ammo my dad and brothers had stashed away, and had searched neighboring houses for supplies. Since I lived across the street from the school, it had made sense to raid the cafeteria. That was where I’d first run into other survivors.

  They’d fortified the school and were camped out in the cafeteria, had even dragged gym mats in so they had beds. It was a good setup, or at least that was what we’d thought at the time. We’d stayed there for a few weeks, and while it had been fairly safe, it hadn’t taken long to realize there were too many ways in and out. Too many windows and too many doors. Keeping watch had been a nightmare, not to mention the fact that we were all getting tired of sleeping on the floor—the gym mats were fine for a few nights, but after that my back had started to hurt.

  We’d searched the town looking for a grouping of houses we might be able to fortify, but everything was too open. Too exposed. That was when someone came up with the idea of moving into the park. With winter coming, though, we’d realized we needed a solution more solid than tents.

  The RVs and trailers came from a dealership in Tipp City. Less than ten miles away, they’d been fully stocked and ready for the picking. We’d loaded as many people as we could into a few trucks, drove there, and taken whatever we needed. From there, setting up our little town of mobile homes had been easy, and it had worked pretty well. Yes, the winter had been rough, but we wouldn’t have been much better off in a house. With no electricity, our only option for keeping warm was to pile more blankets on, so that was what we did.

  Despite my attempt to embrace relaxation, by noon I was over it. I wasn’t sick, and even if it got me in trouble with Cliff, I was done lying around. Plus, I still maintained that he couldn’t do anything to punish me. I was on the council, and as important as he was as the only doctor in our settlement, my position trumped his.

  Plus, no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about Landon. I was dying to see him. To know he was okay, to hear what he’d been up to. To let him know how sorry I was for how things had ended between us.

  Like it usually was this time of the day, the settlement felt deserted when I stepped out. The kids were still in the massive RV that served as the schoolhouse, while most of the adults were busy at work. Either down by the river fishing or off hunting for game, or even performing one of the many tedious tasks that came with life in the apocalypse. Like searching the newly green forest for food, patrolling the perimeter of the settlement, or even scavenging for supplies. We’d gone through the town house by house, but there were other places further out that we hadn’t explored yet, and at least once a week a group went out. There was still a good deal of area to be explored thanks to how few opportunities we’d had to get out during the long winter, and now that spring had bloomed, we were making that a priority.

  The few people who were around nodded to me when I walked by, and even though I was still scanning the area in search of Landon, I did my best to be cordial and return the greeting. I knew where to find him, but for some reason found myself dragging my feet. We had a routine when people came in. They were given a hot meal and an opportunity to get cleaned up, as well as a change of clothes if they needed it—which they usually did—and then they had to meet with the council.

  We couldn’t let just anyone in. It was too risky. These days, zombies weren’t the only monsters we had to worry about. People could be worse, and letting strangers in could threaten everything we’d built.

  The showers were at the far end of the settlement, near the outhouses, so that was where I headed. I spotted Deb, a fiftyish woman and another member of the council, standing beside the fire. In front of her, steam rose from a large pot, curling around her face and turning her skin pink. Beads of sweat dotted her brow, and her salt and pepper hair was damp, clinging to her scalp, but when she looked up and her gray eyes met mine, she smiled.

  “Feeling better?”

  “I was never feeling bad,” I said as I came to a stop on the other side of the fire. “Just shocked.”

  “I heard you and the newcomer have some history.”

  “Devon has a big mouth,” I muttered.

  Deb’s grin widened. “Go easy on him. He’s a little heartbroken at the moment.”

  “He’s just disappointed that he lost his only chance to get laid,” I replied.

  The deep laugh Deb let out shook her shoulders. “I can’t argue with that.”

  I looked past her, toward the shower house where a few other members of the council stood talking. Mike, a former lawyer in his late thirties, Jessie, the former wife of a farmer, and Hector, a Hispanic man who’d only recently moved to the area. There was no sign of Landon.

  I looked back at Deb to find her studying me. “Is he around?”

  “In the shower.” The other woman looked down at the pot, taking a moment to stir the contents with a wooden stick.

  I watched in silence as the strips of fabric swirled around, twisting and turning in the boiling water in a way that reminded me of a front load washing machine. They were bandages, washed and now being b
oiled for reuse.

  “Are you going to vouch for him?” Deb asked. “If he’s going to stay, you know you’re going to have to vouch for him.”

  Anyone who joined our group had to be vouched for by someone else, either someone they knew, or the person who found them and brought them in. It meant taking responsibility for newcomers by keeping track of what they were doing and making sure they were playing by the rules.

  “He’s a good man,” I said.

  “He was a good man.” Deb let go of the stick so she could push her sweaty hair out of her face. “We both know there are a lot of people out there who seemed like they were good back when we had law and order. It didn’t stop them from turning into monsters the second civilization disappeared.”

  She was right, but I couldn’t imagine a scenario where Landon would have turned into someone like that. He didn’t have a selfish bone in his body.

  “Not Landon,” I said.

  It was that moment that he materialized, stepping from the shower house like he was stepping out of my past. Cleaner than he had been the first time I saw him, but still sporting the beard. Still looking like a rougher version of the man I used to know.

  His eyes met mine, and everything in me pulled tight. It was a feeling I’d forgotten existed. I’d forgotten how drawn I’d always felt toward him. Even back when we were kids and had been nothing more than friends. It was something I’d never felt with another person, and something I couldn’t believe had been able to survive the apocalypse and years of being apart.

  Chapter 4

  Deb turned to watch as Landon headed our way, but I couldn’t move. His gaze trapped me, held so it was impossible to escape.

  He stopped on the other side of the fire, at Deb’s side, and through the tendrils of smoke dancing in the open space between us, I was able to get my first good look at him. He looked older than I expected, as if a lifetime and not just five years had passed since we’d seen one another. It wasn’t something that would have been obvious to most people, physically he didn’t look older than his twenty-seven years, but I could see it. It was in his eyes. In the lack of shine, the lack of mirth that usually danced in those brown depths.

  “Landon.” His name was like a whisper on my lips, and I flushed as memories of other times I’d whispered his name came rushing back in a tsunami of images.

  “April.” He nodded, his head dipping once while his eyes stayed glued to me.

  I held my breath, waiting for him to say more, but he didn’t, and the silence stretched out. A cool breeze blew, grabbing hold of the wisps of smoke and making them swirl around us in much the same way the quiet was, but still Landon said nothing.

  After what felt like an eternity, Deb cleared her throat. “You get yourself something to eat?”

  Landon visibly started, blinking twice before focusing on Deb. “I did, thank you.”

  “Good, good.” Deb had turned her gaze back to the pot in front of her as if it were more interesting than the emotional silence hanging between Landon and me. “I’m sure you’ve been informed about how all this works.”

  “I’ve been told I’ll have to talk to the council if I want to stay. Let them know what I’ve been up to for the last eight months.” Landon looked down, focusing on the patchy grass beneath his feet.

  “It’s okay,” I said, finding my voice at last. “They just need to know you’re a good person.”

  He kept his gaze down. “You don’t know I’m a good person.”

  “I do.” I wanted to reach out and touch him, to comfort him the way I had in high school when his grandma died, but the fire separating us made it impossible.

  “A lot has happened over the last eight months, April.” Again, he didn’t look up. “You don’t know what I’ve had to do to get here. I don’t think I can claim to be a good man anymore. Not after all this.”

  Before I could utter a word, Deb said, “You just tell the truth and let us worry about whether or not you’re a good man. Things today are more complicated than they used to be.” She let out a long breath as she stirred the water. “Good and bad are different than they used to be. Harder to untangle.”

  “Yeah,” Landon murmured. “Yeah.”

  “In the meantime,” Deb kept her focus on her work, “Why don’t you let April show you around?”

  “That’s a good idea,” I said.

  Landon nodded, but said nothing as he moved around the fire to join me on the other side. When he stopped next to me, his body heat was ten times more intense than the flames, and it took a moment to find my voice.

  “This way.”

  Landon nodded, still saying nothing as we started walking, leaving Deb behind.

  We walked in silence for a bit, but before long the heaviness of it overwhelmed me. There were so many things I wanted to say, so many things I wanted to ask, so many things I wanted to know, but I couldn’t force a single one out.

  “This is a great setup you have here,” Landon said, finally breaking the silence.

  “We’ve worked really hard.”

  “I can tell.” He looked around, scanning the area in the distance where we had built stables for animals and where we’d plowed the land to prepare for planting. “It’s impressive.”

  “We got lucky and our group has a very diverse background and knowledge base.”

  “That is lucky…”

  He let the words trail off and once again we lapsed into silence. It followed us until we’d left the grouping of RVs behind, but we kept walking. In front of us, at the far end of the valley, sat the road leading up to the only exit. It twisted its way up the side of the hill, high above a small pond where a few ducks swam lazily, freshly returned from their exodus down south.

  “I can’t believe you’re alive,” Landon said finally.

  “I can’t believe you’re—” My voice broke and I had to clear my throat. “Eight months, Landon. I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through.”

  “You’ll find out soon enough, I guess.” He gave me a crooked smile, barely discernable through his scraggily beard, and my heart skipped a beat from the familiarity of it. “I heard you’re on the council.”

  “I am,” I said, trying to return his smile. “I was shocked when they nominated me, I’m so much younger than a lot of people here, but it seems to be working.”

  “I’m not surprised,” he replied, still grinning. “You were always good in a crisis. A level head.”

  “It’s been harder to hold on to since everything…” My voice trailed off as we reached the edge of the pond and stopped walking.

  “I can’t imagine how bad it was, being here to watch everything you knew fall apart,” Landon said. “I was all the way on the other side of the country, and being surrounded by people I barely knew was bad enough, but having to be here. In your hometown.” He swallowed. “Watching your family die.”

  “It was awful,” I said.

  He let out a long breath before saying, “My parents? Did you— I mean, did they— Do you know what happened to them?” He looked past me toward the north side of town like he was trying to catch a glimpse of his childhood home. “I intended to go there first, but I ran into some guys out on patrol before I could.”

  “I’m sorry, Landon.” The pain in his brown eyes when they focused on me almost made me chicken out. “They’re dead. I checked on them, you know I did. They were already gone, though.”

  An involuntary shudder shook my body at the memory of going to see Landon’s parents.

  “I know.” He exhaled again. “The last time I talked to them, they were both sick, and since no one got better…” He shook his head. “I just need to see it for myself.”

  “I don’t know if you want to do that,” I said.

  “I don’t know if I do either, but I need to. You know?”

  I did know.

  “I can go with you,” I said. “That is, if you want me to. I understand if you want to go alone, though.”

  Landon nodded a co
uple times, his hair falling over his forehead in the process, and I had to stop myself from reaching up to push it back the way I used to when we were together. Too much time had passed to fall back into old habits like that.

  “Yeah. I’d appreciate that.”

  “Okay,” I said. “We can go now if you want.”

  “What about the council meeting?”

  “We won’t do that until after dinner. Everyone is working now, but things will settle down tonight. That’s when we’ll meet.”

  “Okay, then,” Landon said.

  “We just need to let someone know we’re going.” I nodded back toward the RVs. “You know, in case we don’t come back.”

  “Makes sense,” he replied.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  We headed back toward the grouping of RVs so we could let everyone know we were heading out. A quick trip to my own RV, which Landon studied with quiet interest, provided us with all the supplies we would need. I grabbed my usual weapons—knives and a rifle—and my backpack, which I kept stocked with basic supplies. It wasn’t a lot—a canteen of water, a few protein bars in case I got caught out longer than anticipated, a small first aid kit, and a flashlight. The basics.

  Neither one of us spoke as we left my RV and headed toward the only exit, but there were a mountain of questions hanging between us that needed to be answered, most of which had to do with what we’d done to survive the last eight months.

  The road leading out of the valley was long and at an incline, and physically exerting even for people who’d worked hard every day since the virus killed most of the world. It gave Landon and me an excuse to stay silent even though both of us knew it was just that—an excuse.