Dead Living (17 page)

Read Dead Living Online

Authors: Glenn Bullion

Tags: #Romance, #zombies apocalypse, #Horror, #Survival

BOOK: Dead Living
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She couldn't believe it was the same
place.

Aaron had turned half the place into an
actual working library. Tables, chairs, and bookshelves were
scattered about. There were gaps from missing books and bookshelves
that couldn't be repaired, and some torn spots on the carpet, but
it still looked great.

The far end of the library, along the wall
leading outside, Aaron had made into a living space.

He had every window open, letting in the
morning breeze. There was a couch under the windows with a chair
adjacent to it. A beat-up coffee table sat in the middle, with a
collection of books already on it. A box of candles sat on the
floor.

“Hey Sam,” Aaron called, his voice echoing
slightly. He had come from the librarian's office, where he was
setting up his bedroom. He gestured around him. “What do you
think?”

Sam had no words. She didn't think it was
possible. People used the library as a trash room for years.
Richardson thought it was sad, a place of public knowledge reduced
to trash. He had grabbed all the books he needed years ago, so he
stopped caring.

“This looks
great
,
Aaron.”

He walked up to her so they were close. “Now
we won't have to sleep together. I'm setting up a bed in the old
office. It'll be great in the winter months. Oh, there's a grill
right outside the emergency room door, but that's just for me and
you.”

She missed the fact that he thought of them
as a unit. She looked around at all the work he'd done, all the
things he'd gathered. She couldn't wrap her mind around it.

“How did you do this?” she asked. “I mean,
shit, I know that couch wasn't in the storeroom. I would have taken
it.”

“Just non-stop work,” he said. “The couch and
stuff, I took out of an old house near the end of the block.”

“You pushed a couch down the street by
yourself? Aaron, there's still walkers out there.”

“I was careful. Travis saw me when I got near
the gate, and gave me a hand carrying it back here. That was just
last night.”

She shook her head. “You could have asked me
for help.”

“I would have. I couldn't find you during the
day, and I wasn't gonna wake you up.”

He saw her frown slightly. He didn't have
great social instincts, but he knew they were in the middle of
something, maybe a fight.

“Look, I'm sorry about sleeping at the Pit,”
he said. “But I didn't want to bother you, and to be honest, I'm
used to sleeping near the undead. I didn't think it was a big
deal.”

“Aaron, it's just-” she
paused, searching for words. She was ready to share something with
him she'd never spoken about. “I'm not used to the whole friends
thing. The last person that called himself my
friend
was before I found this
place. We setup camp one night in an old restaurant, where they
used to buy food. The walkers came, and he ran away without even
turning around. I barely got out with my life.”

“I won't do that.”

“I was also mad you didn't sleep in my room,”
she continued. Her blunt honesty was a reason she knew many people
didn't like her. “I offered my room, you should have taken it.”

“Same goes for you. You ever want to sleep
here, that couch is mighty comfortable. Heavy as shit though.”

She laughed. They both walked to the couch
and had a seat. Susan Lively, taking a break from the garden,
walked in to borrow a book. Aaron gave her a polite wave as she
left.

“I do need your help on something. Tell me
about Carrie.”

“What?”

“I'm on fence duty tonight. Carrie wants to
do it with me. I've only talked to her a few times.”

“They've got you on fence duty already? They
either think you're very reliable or they hate your guts.”

“I kinda volunteered. Leroy, he was supposed
to do it, hasn't spent much time with his wife lately. So I said
I'd take his place. Then Carrie ran up to me this morning and said
she'd do it with me.”

Sam was surprised. Not only was Aaron fitting
in already, but he was meeting people and learning names. She
didn't know who Leroy was, or that anyone in Lexington was
married.

“Everyone likes Carrie, especially the guys.
She's mentioned your name a few times.”

Aaron fought with what he wanted to ask her.
“Listen, Sam, people tell me you hate fence duty.”

“People tell you right.” She smiled. “Why are
you talking about me behind my back?”

“Would you work it with me tonight? I told
Richardson I'd do it alone, but he says it's always gotta be
pairs.”

“You don't want to work with Carrie?”

“Not really. You're the only one I
trust.”

Sam felt a little uncomfortable with all of
this sharing. “Same goes for you, and I don't say that lightly. I'm
in.”

That wasn't what he expected to hear.
Everyone Aaron had spoken to told him Sam was basically for hire.
She'd do things she didn't want to, but for a price.

“Thank you,” he said, then remembered the bag
next to the couch. He grabbed it and handed it to her. “Here. This
is for you.”

“What's this?”

“Some things I found last night while I was
out. Thought you might like them.”

She looked through the bag. There was a brush
still in a sealed package, nail clippers, a bottle of shampoo, and
a combat knife.

“Wow,” she said. She wasn't used to receiving
things from anyone, unless it was a trade. “Thank you.”

“The shampoo doesn't do me any good,” he said
with a touch of his head.

Sam tried to figure out how she got so lucky
with finding Aaron. Maybe she was due for a little luck.

A voice cut into her thoughts.

“Hey Aaron!” Scott called from the doors. He
spent most of his time at the forge, a great place in the winter
time. “You mind if I borrow a book?”

“Go ahead, just bring it back. Grab anything
you like.”

Sam laughed. “You've made a lot of friends
already.”

Aaron dismissed the idea with a wave of his
hand. “Nah. Just you. I've got some people I gotta talk to, then
I'll get some rest before tonight. Meet me back here at dusk?”

Sam nodded.

“Thanks, Sam. Really. I know fence duty isn't
fun.”

“Anytime.”

She meant it.

*****

Aaron spent the rest of the day meeting and
talking to people. Richardson was right in that most of the people
were unhappy. Even those who smiled the most, Susan Lively, Larry,
and Carrie were two who seemed genuinely happy, they always
followed up those smiles with a list of complaints or needs.

Aaron wrote them all down.

He carried around a notepad and pencil from
the storeroom, similar to what Richardson always did. He made a
list of some of the simple things Lexington needed.

He received compliments on being the only
young adult that could read and write, which he found sad.

He sought out Carrie when the sun started to
set. She wasn't thrilled that Aaron asked Sam to partner up with
him for fence duty. He went back to the library and took his bow
and quiver from the bedroom. Some clothes he'd taken from the
storeroom were scattered across his mattress. He made a mental note
to clean up tomorrow.

He read on the couch until Sam stepped into
the library. She looked nice with a white sleeveless shirt and
curve-hugging shorts. Her favorite combat knife was strapped to her
toned leg. She had another Beretta holstered around her waist. She
gave Aaron a friendly nod, then laughed at his choice of
weaponry.

“Aaron, we've got guns in the storeroom.
There's no need to walk around with a damn bow and arrow.”

The two left the library together.

“I hate guns.”

She gave him a look. For the first time, she
noticed he was about six inches taller than she was. “I know you
said that in Baltimore, but are you really serious? You've never
fired a gun?”

“Just to kill my father.”

She put a comforting hand on his shoulder,
only for a moment.

The cafeteria was a maze of tables, chairs,
people, and candles. It was made to hold two hundred high school
teenagers. With only sixty people, everyone had plenty of room to
spread out and have their own space. Richardson entertained a group
with his guitar, while Carrie entertained everyone else, or rather
the males, in a far corner. She danced on top of an old table while
the men laughed and had a good time.

“Hey Aaron!” someone called. “Pull up a
chair!”

“Can't tonight,” he shouted back. “Me and Sam
got fence duty.”

“Alright. I hope you don't have to whip out
your bow.”

Aaron laughed, and Sam smiled. He kept
bumping into chairs and tables on the way through the cafeteria. He
could barely see in front of him. Sam had to grab his hand and lead
the way.

It was brighter outside, but not by much. He
let her hand drop, his own still tingling from the touch. He liked
it.

“So we just walk around, keep an eye on
things?”

“Yeah. All night long.” She drug out the last
sentence.

“Thanks for doing this with me.”

“Sure.”

They circled the fence for an hour. They both
kept quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. The sounds of the
night kept them company, the birds, crickets, rustling in the trees
just beyond the fence. They passed a few other guard pairs, and
gave them polite waves. Aaron noticed Sam walked a little closer
than she did before.

“Does Carrie always do that?” he asked.
“Dance on the tables?”

“Wish she was with you now?”

“Nope.”

“She's not my favorite person, but the guys
love her. She puts smiles on their faces. Everyone thinks she
bubbly and beautiful.”

“Oh, she's very pretty.” He gave her a quick
look up and down in the moonlight. “You're prettier though.”

She stopped along their path and leaned
against the fence. “What?”

“I'm not trying to make any romantic moves or
anything. I'm just saying. You're prettier than Carrie.”

Sam knew men looked at her, but didn't really
care what they thought. For some reason, with Aaron, she was
flattered. “Thank you.”

Gratitude was getting easier for Sam.

They took a rest after a while, and shared
some water. They made a loop around the school, this time in the
opposite direction to break up boredom.

“Why am I prettier than Carrie?”

“Because you don't try,” he said. “Carrie
puts a lot of thought and effort into how she looks, which seems a
little silly to me. You put thought into how you're gonna live and
survive, and how to get that knife on your leg.”

“So not trying to look
pretty, makes me
prettier
? That doesn't make any
sense.”

“Yeah I know, but it's true.”

Sam was quiet.
Is Aaron actually flirting with me?

She dismissed the thought right away.

Aaron had to fight to keep alert. Sam was
right, fence duty wasn't easy. He suggested they take short naps
while the other watched. Troy had wanted to do the same thing with
Sam when they had fence duty, but she didn't trust him at all.

She trusted Aaron. She knew he would watch
over her.

When it was Aaron's turn to nap, they moved
to the other side of the school, near the edge of the garden by the
fence. He laid down in the grass and put his hands under his
head.

“Remember, wake me up if something
happens.”

She laughed. “The only thing that will happen
is boredom. Don't worry.”

Aaron settled in and closed his eyes. She sat
down next to him and mindlessly checked her Beretta.

“Hey Sam.”

“What?”

“Would you tell me a bedtime story?”

“No.”

He smiled. “My father and Aunt Denise would
tell me stories before bed.”

Sam tried to fight off memories of her
childhood, but they flooded in. She had no memory of her parents at
all. Her earliest memories were of digging food out of the trash.
She killed her first walker when she was seven years old. While
Aaron was listening to bedtime stories, Sam was surviving on the
streets. She avoided walkers and worse, like humans with no
conscience.

Familiar emotions took over. Hate and
anger.

“I'm not your father or aunt.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Go to sleep.”

“What's wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Look, I just don't really want to
hear about your family, alright?”

“If you want, I'll read you a bedtime
story.”

She managed a small laugh. “Oh, will
you?”

“Sure. I've been going through the library.
There's still plenty of great books there. I'll read to you every
night if you want.”

“Reading is a waste of time, Aaron.”

He sat up and they locked eyes. “No, it's
not. When people take over again, they'll need to know how to read
and write. We can't let everything we've learned disappear.”

“Take over again? Are you kidding? Aaron,
walkers outnumber us. When we die, we become them. We'll never take
back over.”

“You're wrong. It won't happen in our
lifetime, but it will happen. And strong people like you need to
know how to read and write.”

She was pleased Aaron thought she was strong,
but she knew he was being ridiculous.

“You think reading and writing is more
important than learning how to shoot a gun?” she asked as she ran a
finger down his bow.

He leaned on an elbow. “Did your gun save you
in Baltimore?”

“No, you did, but you didn't exactly throw a
book at them.”

“Okay, tell me what's important to you, for
living in this world.”

She sat with her legs crossed and looked at
him. “Well, you have to have weapons training, and know how to find
supplies. You have to look out for yourself first.”

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