Becca (15 page)

“You sure? I can go with you.”

“No, that’s okay.” I grabbed her hand. “It’ll be like a date.”

“Be careful.”

“I think we’re going to look for one of those little propane camp stoves and some bottles of propane. David was telling me about them, I think I know what to look for. If we stop using the stove so much maybe we can at least let the oven last a while longer.” The tank out back may be big, but it’s not going to last forever.

“Good idea.” he mumbled without any emotion.

I went up to our room and changed to some better shoes, put my hair in a pony tail, grabbed a backpack and the guns. I went down to Bridget’s room and knocked. I heard laughing from inside. I knocked again and she told me to come in.

“Hi.” I said, sticking my head in. Her and David were in there alone. They were sitting on opposite sides of the room, but they had really guilty looks on their faces. “What are you two up to?”

“Nothing.” she said.

“Nothing at all.” he added.

“Right. Anyway,” I held a gun out toward each of them. “I have a job for you two.”

“You’re giving
me
a gun?” Bridget asked.
 

“I want you two to keep an eye out while I’m gone. Dad is distracted by Mom right now.”

“Where are you going?”

“Tasha and I are going for more supplies.”

“We have plenty, Becca.”

“Well we don’t want to wait until we’re running low, do we?”

“You just want to be alone with Tasha.” David accused.

“Anyway, go downstairs and keep your eyes open. Remember to check out the back every now and then.”

“We will.” Bridget told me. She gave me a smile, happy that I trust her to guard everyone.

“And whatever you were doing in here, you’re not ready.”

“Becca,” She rolled her eyes as she nudged past me into the hall. “We weren’t doing anything. And it’s not like you should be talking. I hear you in there at night.”

“Well you haven’t heard much, then.”

When we got downstairs, Tasha and Amber were in a heated stare off. They were five feet from each other, both looking at the other like they wanted them dead.

“What’s going...” I began. 

“Tasha says I can’t come...” Amber said. 

“This little twerp is trying to tell me...” Tasha shouted at the same time. 

“along, and I don’t see why she gets...”

“what to do, and there’s no way in hell...”

“to go and I don’t. I never get to go along...”

“that I’m sitting in a car with her for half...”

“and I’m sick and tired of sitting...”

“the day and listen to her...”

“Shut up!” I shout. I stepped between them. “Seriously?” I said to Tasha. I turned to Amber. “You can’t go today.”

“Uh!”

“I promise to take you along next time.”

“So what, she gets to go because you’re sleeping with her?”

“Okay, well A: none of your business, and B: go to hell, Amber.”

“Uh!”

“Look, I’m sorry.” I said. I clearly hurt her feelings with that last bit. “Amber, I like you, you’re a nice girl usually, but you’ve got to learn to stay out of my personal relationship. It isn’t your business. At all. Got it?”

“I want to go!”

“You’re not going.” I told her. 

“But...”

“I’m in charge here.” I can’t believe I just said that. I hate the very idea.

“You’re dad is.”

“Well...” No, I am. Sadly. I wish Dad was. “I’m in charge of you, anyway.”

“This is so unfair.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way. Please try to understand.”

“Why can’t I go?” she asked. 

“Because I actually do want to spend a little time alone with my girlfriend, okay?”

She looked at Natasha with that burning anger for a second, and then it faded to a sadness. She looks really jealous. She glanced at me, her lip trembling, and she nodded. And then she turned and stomped up the stairs.

I felt bad for her, but we had to get going. So we got in the car and headed away. Tasha reached over and held my hand as she drove. It was really nice.

“I wish we could go on a real date.” I told her.

“I’m sure we could find something to do. A picnic?”

“We should probably just get in and get out.”

“In and out. Sounds more like something that comes at the end of a lot of dates.” she said laughing.

I think she’s blushing. She’s talking about sex, right? Okay, well, she’s squeezing my hand so tightly it’s starting to hurt.

“Do you want to, like, um... be with me? Like... ya know, intimately” I asked. I had to look out the side window to avoid any possibility of her seeing how embarrassed I felt for asking.

“I’m a little busy driving right now.” was her reply.

“I didn’t mean now. Just... ever?”

“Sometime.” she said. She raised my hand and kissed it. “When we’re both ready.”

“Really?”  

“Yeah, Becca. I love you.”

“So... so you think I’m... like... sexy?”

“What?”

She started laughing and had to let go of my hand to wipe her eyes because there were tears. I felt like crying, too, but mostly from embarrassment. I can’t believe I asked that. Can I curl up and die now?

“Becca, angel, I’m in love with you.”

“But... I mean... I guess what I want to know...”

“You’re incredibly sexy, honey.” She laughed. “Do you not know that? Seriously?”

“I... try not to think about it. It’s not like I ever had anyone who I wanted to think I was sexy before now.”

“Well you are. Incredibly.”

“You too.” I told her. 

“Yeah, I know.”

“Oh, wow, so confident, huh?” I asked, and I laughed. 

“Well you basically glare at me all the time. I’ve gotten the idea you think I’m hot.”

“I do. Absolutely.”

“You ever feel like we’re pushing our luck?”

“You mean by going out for supplies like this?”

“No. I mean us. Being together, being happy. Like we’re pushing it, like God or the universe or whatever has already decided that humans don’t deserve happiness.”

“I don’t believe that. Not at all. Maybe it’s more like this is a little reward for putting up with all of this.”

It does feel like a reward. But will she think I’m saying something ridiculous, or wrong? I don’t think Tasha believes we’re being rewarded. It’s not much of a reward when you consider all the people that have died, all the people that are suffering, the changes in us and our lives, the people I’ve killed.

“I don’t mean to say this makes up for everything, or... or that I deserve you or anything.”

“Becca, it’s okay, I know what you meant.”

“I just mean... if I could give you up, as much as it would hurt, I’d do it if I could change things. I’d do
anything
if I could undo all of this.”
 

“Yeah, angel, I know.”

“Slow down a little.”

She slowed the car and we moved forward, past the fifty or sixty dead bodies that were piled at the edge of the road for some reason. She had to swerve into the other lane to miss part of them. There was... I mean... eww. One of the infected ones was...
eating
parts of the others. He didn’t even look up when we went past.
 

“I guess we know how they’re surviving now.” Tasha whispered.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

When we got to the edge of the city the roads were clear. We drove several blocks in before leaving the car. Several blocks away we came to a Walmart. It seemed like a good place to find the camp stove.

“I want to grab some shampoo while we’re here.” she said.

“Dad needs some shaving cream.”

“We should get something nice for everyone else. Hey, we could grab a couple of board games. Like Monopoly or something.”

“Bridget is fierce at that game. She’s cutthroat. She’ll kill us.”

“We should get something Amber likes. I feel bad for her. She can’t accept that you chose me over her.”

“It wasn’t even a choice. And even if I weren’t with you, I wouldn’t be with her.”

“She worships you, Becca. It’s hard to watch.”

“I don’t know what to do about it, though. I wish she didn’t.”

“Just have to live through it.”

“So um,” I paused and shot one of the infected people that was coming up the aisle toward us. “How long do you think these supplies in stores will last? How long will they be good?”

“I don’t know.”

I just shot that guy and didn’t even stop my conversation. What does that say about me? Am I becoming so used to this killing people that it doesn’t even faze me? I don’t want to be that person who isn’t affected by killing someone.

“We should load up with lots of chocolate.” Tasha said.

“Dad likes Mounds. Remind me to get some. Where do you think the camping stoves will be?”

“Back with the fishing stuff, I guess.”

We took that load back to the car, then went further into town to find more food. We found a big grocery store. Inside we filled bags with canned goods and headed toward the front of the store. There were at least a dozen of the infected people crammed into the space between the outer doors and the inner doors. There was green pus oozing out of their skin, leaving disgusting smears as they rubbed and shuffled against the glass. 

“Now what?” Tasha asked.

“We can’t kill them all.”

“Well we can’t just stand here all day deciding!” She shouted. 

“Did you see another exit?”

“No. But there has to be a fire exit somewhere.”

“Let’s find that.” One of them bumped against a door and it opened a little, but then it swung back closed. “Fast.”

We crossed the store, looking around for a fire exit. We finally found it, and ran toward it. I gripped the gun in my hand and pushed the door open. There were dozens of those things meandering around the outside of the store.

“Becca!” Tasha shouted, as one of those things bit down on my left arm. I dropped the bag I was holding and fell back against her. “Oh no. Baby, no.” she said. She shot the one who had bitten me.

“Behind...” I was saying. The one behind her clawed at her neck, leaving bloody scratches.

She spun and shot that one too, then pulled me to my feet and we ran. We had to shove several others aside, and we both wound up with more cuts and scrapes along the way. Luckily most were more of the stumbling kind, not the ones who seem stronger and more aware. We hurried through a set of doors in the back of the store, into the storage area.