by Tara Brown
A smile instantly owns my face. “It’s a girl thing.” I take a sip, savoring the flavor. I am so grateful we found canned milk for coffee. I know eventually it will run out, but for now, it’s awesome.
“I’m aware of that.” The song changes as it ends to Whitaker, “My Own.” He winces. “Oh good, a nice wrist-cutter melody to enhance the suicidal tendencies I have from an hour of the other song.”
I laugh, I can’t even help myself. Hearing him talk, I am stunned I never realized who he was sooner. “You remember when we used to talk on the phone for hours?”
“Yeah.” He folds his arms, with his eyes caught on my smile.
“I liked that, falling asleep talking.” I place the coffee on the bedside table, about to get up.
He shrugs, giving me the grin, the cocky one. “I like this better—talking to you face to face.” He makes my stomach flutter like a thousand butterflies have launched in there.
He steps in closer, dropping to his knees at the side of my bed. He lifts his hand, brushing it against my cheek and leaning in, replacing his hand with his lips. I close my eyes as his face settles against mine, his lips burning my cheeks with their feather touch. I don't even fight the affection. I lean into it. His hands run up my arms, making a trail of fire that tingles up and down me. His fingers knead a little when they get to the tops of my arms, pulling me back slightly. I turn my face, meeting the warmth of his breath. I hold mine, scared of how bad my morning breath is, mixed with the coffee. He doesn't kiss my lips, brushing a second kiss on my cheek, only this time it’s the other one. I feel him pause, smiling against my face. “Sorry.” He gets up quickly and walks out before I can say a thing. I know I want him to come back but it dawns on me then that I imagine our first kiss differently. I didn't even know I had imagined it, but now I see it involved brushed teeth and a bra, and possibly even some makeup. In a perfect world it would be under a tree as the snow falls around us.
But no matter what, it won’t be here in my bed where one thing can lead to another. I’ve made that mistake already.
But the feel of his face so close to mine and the smell of him, the way his deodorant and sweat mixes, makes me jump from my bed. I slam back the coffee and drag on clothes and deodorant of my own. I drag a brush through my hair and hurry downstairs to wash up.
He’s not downstairs when I get down there, but the eyes in the room all tell me they noticed he had come upstairs.
“Don't fret, lover boy said he’d be right back.” Sasha glances at the door.
Jamie bats her lashes at me. “He did seem a bit flustered. What’d you do to him?”
I pause, giving the little girls a grin and praying my face isn’t as red as I believe it to be. “He brought me a coffee. That's it.” I carry my toothbrush to the kitchen and brush my teeth in the sink, rinsing my face with the water from the jug.
Jamie gets up, swarming me with mascara and lip gloss and a little perfume. Sasha grabs my hair, pulling it into a messy bun, yanking on my head until I wince.
Joey gets up and tilts her head to the side. “A little blush maybe. She’s still kinda pale.”
My jaw drops but Jamie starts applying. I swat at them. “Stop!”
A knock at the cabin door makes my insides drop. Sasha leans in, smelling near my mouth. She pulls a pack of strawberry gum from her pocket. She holds up one piece. “This is the sacred kissing gum. I only have fifteen packs, so we have to be sparing.” She shoves the piece in my mouth as the little girls all answer the door, grinning away at Kyle. He lifts a hand but I shake my head, not really at him but it looks that way. He lowers his hand, stepping back as I hurry to the door, shoving kids out of the way and avoiding the knowing looks on my friends’ faces. I pretty much force him outside and smile as I close the door. “Sorry. They’re all acting insane. Plague and death don't seem to make them crazy, but apparently a boy does.” I don't even know what I’m saying. He’s suddenly making me nervous in a way I have NEVER been. I could ramble so I press my glossed lips together.
He frowns, I suspect confused by the behavior and awkwardness. He points up the hill to the ski lodge. “I went and looked at the names on the list for sheriff’s office and we were right. Lance and Kelly are both on there.”
He wants to talk about the real problems in the world and not the fact we nearly kissed, but were thwarted by my morning breath, no doubt. “Oh, uhm, yeah. That's not good.”
“I stole the list and rewrote it, minus their names. I added my name with Miles and Erin so the spaces were all taken. Twenty people signed up. Mr. Milson signed up on his own.”
My jaw drops. “You signed up?”
He nods. “It was all I could think to do. I made my name the last one and then went and handed it in, saying the slots were all taken. It might stop Lance and Kelly from being given authority. I just wanted you to know what happened, in case they call us to go and train or something. I honestly don't think they have a clue about what to do.”
I don't know what to say. I’m stuck in my room with his face pressed against mine. I nod slowly, disappointed until he steps in close to me, lifting his hand to cup my cheek. I try not to smack my gum in his face as he lowers it, sliding his lips against my well-lubed ones. We both wince. It makes me laugh nervously as I pull back, spitting my gum out in the dirt, and wipe my lips. “Sorry. They attacked me with gloss and gum.”
He wipes his mouth on his sleeve, still looking at me funny. He bites his lip like he’s contemplating something before grabbing my face, a little rougher than before, and pressing his face against mine. I couldn't have imagined it better than it happened. Yes, everything went wrong. Morning breath and gloss and gum, and everyone watching out the window. But when his lips meet mine in the crashing embrace, everything clicks into place. It isn’t a storybook romance. It isn’t the way I imagined it would ever be. It’s better and worse and different in a thousand ways. But when he kisses me and our tongues meet, I believe everything is possible again. My hands slide into his hair as his roam my back, lifting me into the kiss. For half a minute I swear we are one person. I even think for a moment I hear his thoughts.
It’s the best kiss I have ever had, and I am sure it’s because it’s exactly like my mother told me it would be. She told me that when you love someone, everything means more. A kiss, a dance, a hug, sex. It all means so much more because that person has your heart—the most important thing you can ever give another person.
His hands, pulling me into him, create a fire inside of me. I want to climb him like a tree. I want to finish everything this kiss starts but he pulls me back, gasping for air. His lips twitch and move like they’re still kissing mine. Cold air separates us. He starts to laugh softly, nervously maybe. He licks his lips and nods. “Shit.”
I cock my head, feeling a wall of rejection about to hit. “Shit?”
He nods again. “I don't know how I am ever going to stop kissing you, Lou. We might have a problem.”
“Then don't stop.” I smile wide, flooded with instant relief. He grabs my hand and drags me down the stairs. We walk down the road, I don't know where we’re going and I don't care. When we get far enough from the cabin, he pulls me into the forest. The moment we can’t see the road, his hands are on me, pulling me into him, and yet pushing me against a tree at the same time. I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to him as our mouths finish what they started.
The desperation in our fingers is obvious by the shaking of our hands. We touch each other gently, only to claw a moment later. Gentle, soft, delicate. Words I would have liked to describe the first time with him. But they are not the words I would ever use to describe the moment against the rough bark of the tree. Passionate, desperate, overwhelming. Those are the words that describe us. That is the way we mess around. Those are the feelings I have when he touches me.
Making out with a boy in the woods is just the irresponsible affair I need after the week I’ve had. Falling in love in one kiss—one bite—one desperate act at a time�
��is the opposite thing I need after the week I’ve had. But this isn’t a regular kind of love. It isn’t puppy love and it isn’t first love. It’s real. He showed me that by risking his life for me. He saved me from death so many times. He risked everything for me.
That is love. That is pure love.
I don't know where the world is going. I don't know my place in it. I don't know anything beyond the simple fact I am alive. I am in love. I am responsible for the lives of others. And instead of being alone in that responsibility, I share it with him. Like the soldier told us to, we watch our six. He watches mine and I watch his. And because he loves me I’m not alone. I’ll never be alone.
That's all we can ask for in this world. This world that we broke.
According to the Bible, it took seven days to create the world.
According to the zombie apocalypse I witnessed, it took less to destroy it.
According to the men in charge, we have to rebuild it.
But I don't think that's what God wants. I think he still wants justice for the crimes committed in his name. I just don't know how he’s going to get it.
Like I said, I don't know my place in this world. I just have faith that it’s all working out the way it should, and I’m enjoying the few pleasures I have been given.
That's all we can ask for in this world. This world that we broke.
Epilogue
Six months later
The mountain village has changed so much. I stand in the whistling wind and watch as the people who live here now all scurry about to their separate places. I’m convinced the wind is on our side. She was all along. It was just hard to see when she was so bitter and cold. Her lonely whistle has become something of a theme song for us all.
A guy with a gun holstered on his hip walks down the road. He winks at me, looking awfully cute in his vest and jeans. I watch him stroll down the road, entering the woods at the bottom of the hill. My stomach still has butterflies as I leave my porch, heading in the same direction he’s gone.
When I get into the woods, I don't see him but I sense him. He’s hiding on me, attempting to scare me. Of course it's a lot harder to scare us survivors. Our skin is a little thicker than it used to be.
He cracks a branch when he steps from behind me. I spin at the moment his warm lips land on mine. The kiss makes me sigh as my back is pressed against a tree and his hands roam my body. He lowers his face into my neck, muttering, “Did I mention I love you?”
“Not since the boat.” I shake my head.
He nods, breathing me in. “I do.” He lifts his face, kissing my cheek softly. “I do love you so much. Even more than I ever thought possible.”
I run my hands in his wooly hair, grinning at the messy style a winter on the mountain will earn you. “I love you too.” I mean it in every way possible.
He winces as if he’s disappointed. “You don't have to say it because I did.”
“I’m not. I wouldn't. If I could show you by saving your life the way you did mine, I would. But I can’t, so you have to just believe me when I say it.”
His green eyes search mine. Apparently, he finds what he’s looking for because the cocky grin returns, taunting me with the slight twist in his smile. I grab his face, pressing my face against the softness of his lips.
In six months he has become the air I breathe. He and Joey and Furgus, and everyone else who warms our little cabin every night. My friends have become my family, and the boy I gamed with has become my heart. A walking, living, breathing version of my own heart.
He pulls back, putting a hand up. “I didn't actually come into the woods to seduce you.”
“You can’t seduce the willing.” My cheeks blush.
His eyes narrow, accepting my challenge. “I can, but that's not why I’m here.” His gaze turns serious. A look I never like. “Survivors from the South have found their way here.”
I scowl. “Why on earth would they come up here?” To me the South has always seemed like a smarter place to live. The crops can grow year round. We are about to start planting now since spring is just starting.
He sighs, shaking his head in disbelief. “They said the biters didn't all die. He said there are people down there who are healed from the bite, but they’re crazy and starting some movement to prove their superiority.”
“What?” I don't believe it at all.
“I know. That's what I said too but the mayor didn't look surprised at all. Then they started talking about the biters who are still like the infected. They never dropped dead like the ones we saw.”
“Bullshit!” I step back, folding my arms. “They’re trying to screw with us. This is them wanting to come up here and take what we have.”
He swallows hard. “I thought that too but when we went to Laurel yesterday on patrols, we saw some on the highway. They aren’t frozen like before. They don't stand there waiting for stimulation. They wander and roam, looking for meat. We saw them attack an animal on the road. When we killed the first one, the second one came at us, fast too. I shot him six times before he dropped. We came back this morning and we aren’t the only patrols to have this experience.”
“Oh God.” I close my eyes, feeling my heart in my throat.
“It gets worse.”
I open my eyes, lost in that even being possible.
He steps forward, taking my hands in his. “They’re rounding up people who have been bitten. Anyone here on the mountain who has a bite is supposed to report to the mayor.”
“No.” I shudder as the wind tries to hold me in her cool embrace.
“You never told anyone, right?” I can see how serious he is.
“Just you, me, Lee, Jamie, and Sasha. No one else knows.”
His eyes close as his face is blanketed in disappointment. “Why on earth would you tell them? I told you no one!” He lets go of me and walks past, leaving me alone in the woods. His footsteps on the road, walking away from me, hurt. I lift my hand, looking at the obvious bite mark on the fleshy side of my palm. The scar is still silver and it tingles sometimes.
I pull the knife from my pocket, the one Mr. Milson gave me six months ago. I take deep breaths, holding it along my hand, right where the bite mark is. My entire body tenses as I brace for the pain I’m about to feel. A soft cry leaves my lips as I drag the sharp blade along the scar, cutting in two places to make it look more like a cut than a bite. Tears leave my eyes as I drop to my knees, letting the blade fall from my shaking hand. Blood drips—no pours—from my hand onto the duff of the forest.
I shake, lifting my hand into the air to try to control the bleeding. I shudder as the pain gets worse. It only lasts a second but then incredible warmth surrounds my hand. I turn it over, looking at the gaping wound as the skin pulls back together. Little blue lights startle me as the blood stops and the lights shoot from one side of the wound to the other. It burns like someone is soldering my skin back together. I cry out again, confused as the wound seals perfectly. The bite mark is back. The cuts are gone. My hand looks the same as it did a moment ago.
I swallow hard, scared but more confused, and turn to look and make sure no one saw that. I grab the gloves from my pocket, slipping them on so no one will see. I close and pocket the knife, stunned at what just happened.
When I leave the woods my legs shake.
I don't know what that was, and I don't know what is going to happen, but worst of all, I don't know what I have become. But I know I need Kyle. I need him now.
I hurry up the hill, sprinting in my rubber boots. When I get to my cabin, I burst through the door, looking for him but he’s not there. Sasha gives me a look from the kitchen where she’s making bread. “You seen Kyle?”
She nods. “He’s next door. I just saw him out the window.”
I turn, running out and down the side yard to the cabin next door. Mr. Milson waves as he leaves in a truck, going on a sheriff’s patrol, no doubt. I wave halfheartedly as I scan the area for Kyle. He opens the cabin door, giving me
a look. “What?” He can see the look in my eyes.
I walk behind the cabin, not saying a thing to him. I slip under the cabin and lean against one of the beams it stands on. I pull my knife from my pocket and tear off the glove on my hand. As he enters under the cabin I slice my hand, making him jump. “Jesus, Lou. What are you doing? It was a small fight. You don't have to cut yourself. That’s going to needs stitches—” He pauses as the bleeding stops and the lights come, just as they did before. He gasps, backing away from me as the skin pulls back together.
Tears stream my cheeks. I don't know what to say but I am certain the horror in my eyes is enough. He lifts his stunned face, shaking his head slowly. “What the hell?”
My jaw trembles and I expect him to back farther away from me, but he doesn't. He steps into me, taking me in his arms. “Don't tell anyone, not even Lee or the girls.”
I nod, sobbing against him.
He kisses my head, exactly the way my dad used to and mutters, “Guess I don't have to worry about you dying from infection.” He pulls back, giving me a look. “Do you think this is happening to everyone who was bitten and lived?”
I shrug. “Mr. Milson told me his neighbor—the one I told you about that lived though the bite—he had a pacemaker. I bet he got electrocuted somehow. He’s up here somewhere. We need to find him and find out.”
He sighs. “I bet the guy at the gas station had something like that too.”
“Stan.”
He nods. “Stan, the gas guy.”
My insides are a mess but I say the thing I can’t believe I am about to say, “I want to see them. I want to see the infected people.”
He opens his mouth to disagree but I don't wait for him to answer. I walk past him to the driveway where the BMW Miles drove here sits. Kyle looks disheartened but he goes inside and gets the keys. He gets in, giving me a look. “This is a bad idea. I just want you to agree to that before we go.”
