Deadlocked 8 (3 page)

“No, she just wants to keep you close. You
can’t blame her for that.”

“Yes I can,” I said as I thumped down in one
of the seats. “I’m not a kid anymore. She needs to stop treating me
like one.”

“You’ll always be her baby,” said Zack.
“That’s never going to stop. She needs you here, with her.”

“Maybe so, but that’s not what’s best for the
group. If she’s really so interested in making sure the people here
are safe, and that we’re being smart in how we attack Jerald, then
she’d let me go scout the airport.”

“Give her the benefit of the doubt. She’s got
a lot on her mind.”

“I’ve been giving her the benefit of the
doubt my whole life.”

Zack was exhausted, I could see it in the way
he hung his head. His shoulders slunk, and it looked like he might
collapse if not for the support of the wall behind him. He’d been
defending my mother’s decisions ever since she’d taken over as
captain of the Rollers, but I think his steadfast devotion was
wearing thin.

I stood from my chair, resolute. “I’m going,
Zack, whether she wants me to or not.”

My defiance caused his posture to strengthen
and he shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s the right thing to do for the group. If
she sends out some other scouts, and they get hurt or die, then
people are going to turn on her. This was my job as a Roller. It’s
what I was trained for, and she needs to understand that.”

“She’s still your captain, Annie. Like it or
not, you have to follow her orders.”

“We’re the only ones that know she told me
not to go. If I go out there and tell everyone my plan, and that
mom’s okay with it, then she’ll have to go along with it.”

Zack looked at me with weary indignation.
“Are you really going to do that to her? You’re going to hurt her
like that, after everything she’s been through?”

I relented. He’d called my bluff. “No,” I
said and then fell heavily back into my chair. “Although I
should.”

“Let me talk to her,” said Zack. “I’ll see
what I can do.”

I was surprised. I hadn’t expected him to
side with me, but I didn’t question it. There was no one in the
Rollers that had a better chance of changing Laura’s mind than
Zack.

“Thanks,” I said as he turned to leave.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said with a glimmer
of amusement. “You know how she can be.”

Laura Conrad

I’d left Annie and Zack alone in the
conference room and retreated to the playroom where I knew David
would be. One of the Roller’s oldest nursemaids, Rachel, was
keeping an eye on the children as they played with the variety of
toys our scavengers had pilfered from a nearby town. She saw me
come in and stood to greet me. “Hi Laura. Looking for David?”

I glanced around as I answered, “Yes.”

“Arthur took him. I think they went to the
kitchen.”

I nodded and smiled before turning to leave,
but then I heard a young girl say, “Hi, Miss Captain.”

I looked back into the room and saw a child
of Vineyard, a girl no older than seven, staring up at me with big
brown eyes and disheveled hair. She was in a yellow dress that
hadn’t been washed in days, and she was in dire need of a bath, as
were most of us. Despite how hard we all worked to keep our
temporary abode clean, it was an insurmountable task with so many
people milling about.

“Hi sweetie,” I said with a grin. She looked
so much like Kim that the beat of my heart weakened. It was as if
my body ached for me as I tried to push away the encroaching
sorrow.

Every day was a battle, and I was losing
every single one. Kim’s death wasn’t something I could just push
past, and every morning began with a promise of heartache. As I
opened my eyes, and left the dreams behind, I knew my nightmares
had just begun. Perhaps some people are able to overcome the sorrow
that the loss of a child causes, but I’m not one of those
people.

I kept myself composed and stalwart in the
interest of serving the Rollers and the survivors of Vineyard, but
I was just a shell of the person I’d been. This was all an act. I
was broken, through and through.

“I can draw you,” said the child as she
stared up at me with those glassy, wide eyes – her lips curled in
the beginning of a smile.

“You can?” I asked, placating her
affection.

She nodded and then beckoned me over.

Rachel nodded and said, “Daisy’s your biggest
fan, Laura.”

“Oh is she?” I asked as I followed the child
over to the corner of the room where the art supplies were kept.
She retrieved a stack of pages, each of them bearing a similar
figure: A woman with long hair and dark eyes. Some of them were
fantastical, depicting the woman in a fantasy setting, often with a
crown on her head. “Am I a princess in this one?” I asked as I
examined one of the pictures.

“No,” said the child with a giggle. “You’re
the queen.”

“Annie’s the princess,” said Rachel as she
walked by my side and retrieved a different stack of pictures that
Daisy had drawn. “See.”

The second stack featured my daughter, her
red, curly hair a defining feature on her stick figure
representation. Each picture depicted Annie standing tall above the
scene, often atop a church’s steeple, her gun held aloft as a storm
raged behind her, like some goddess of war beckoning forth nature’s
power to smite her enemies.

“These are so good,” I said and handed them
back to Daisy.

“Thank you,” she said with a beaming
grin.

I set my hand on her head and felt my fingers
slide through her brown locks, igniting a memory of Kim at that
age. The sensation of my fingers pushing through this girl’s
tangled hair transported me to better days, but the journey was a
painful one. I turned and left, unable to say anything more. My
breath came in gasps as I fought tears, and I did my best to avoid
being seen in such a state. These moments of agonizing reflection
came far too often, and could be set off by the most mundane
things. Whether it was a coffee cup or a box of cereal, an old book
or simply the touch of a little girl’s brown hair, it was
staggering how many things brought the pain of loss surging back
into my heart.

“Bye,” said the girl, but I couldn’t
respond.

I ducked into the hall, closed the door, and
then gasped as I braced myself against the wall. Tears filled my
eyes as the familiar ache of weeping began to burn in my
throat.

“Laura,” said Zack as he walked towards
me.

I cursed and turned away as I wiped my eyes.
“I hate this place.” I murmured as I tried to compose myself. “It’s
impossible to find a private spot. There’s always someone walking
down the hall or coming into the room. I just need to be by myself
for a minute.”

“Come here,” he said as he approached with
his thick arms held wide in an offer of embrace. I cringed, weary
of pity, but accepted his hug. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Obviously,” he said as he held my head to
his chest. He kissed the top of my head. “Come with me.” He led me
further down the hall, shielding me from the prying eyes of the
others that happened to be wandering the hall at the same time. The
glut of humanity within these walls was stifling.

Zack led me to one of the men’s restrooms and
ushered me inside. The restrooms in the facility had stopped
working decades ago, and we’d converted them into smoking rooms
because of the abundance of vents within. Settlements throughout
this area had discovered very early on that tobacco can be grown
even in Colorado’s arid climate. Before the apocalypse, tobacco use
had waned, but after the dead rose up to ravage the world, the
dangers of smoking seemed like a petty thing to be concerned
with.

There were three men and two women lounging
on the couches in the restroom and Zack told them to leave. The
group was enjoying a hookah, and some of them tried to argue that
we had no right to tell them to leave. Zack paid them no mind, and
his tone became sterner as he commanded them once again to get the
hell out. They grumbled, but did as they were told.

“Sit,” he said to me after the others had
left.

“I don’t want to be in here,” I said as the
smoke stung my already weeping eyes. “I hate all the smoke.”

“Just sit down for a minute,” said Zack as he
moved a chair in front of the door to afford us rare privacy.

I did, but the stench of smoke that emanated
from the couch’s material kept me from feeling any sense of
comfort. The hookah sat on the table in front of me, its many arms
like the tentacles of a dying sea creature laid out for me to
marvel at, the head smoking with whatever blend of tobacco and
other weeds that had been packed within.

Zack didn’t say anything as he sat down
beside me. He knew me better than anyone, and understood that I
don’t like to talk about how I feel, even when I need to. I prefer
to suffer in silence, and would rather disappear than talk about
what’s torturing me.

He put his arm around me and pulled me
closer. I resisted at first, but then relaxed my head on his
shoulder as the inevitable breakdown forced its way from deep
within me where I’d been trying to keep it hidden. I sobbed, and we
spent a long while just sitting there, crying together, without a
single word needed to express the agony.

Several people knocked on the door, and one
person even tried to force their way in. Zack admonished them and
insisted that the room was occupied, using what might kindly be
referred to as ‘colorful’ language to get his point across.

“It’s never going to get any better,” I said
once the wave of tears subsided.

“Yes it will,” he said in an attempt to
reassure me.

“No.” I shook my head vigorously. “No it
won’t. I miss her so much.”

“Time heals all wounds, babe.”

“That’s a big old bag of bullshit you’re
throwing around,” I said and then chuckled. “I’ve got a belly full
of cancer that’ll prove you wrong on that one.”

He didn’t have a retort, and just kneaded my
shoulder as he held me.

“I’d give anything to have her back,” I said
in reflection. “To hear her voice, her laugh, or to see her smile.
Hell, I’d even like to listen to her yell at me.” I managed to find
a glimmer of humor in the thought, and Zack chuckled with me.

“That girl used to yell,” he said as if in
admiration.

“Yes she did. Remember when she and Arthur
first started dating?”

“Oh yeah,” said Zack with a knowing
smile.

“They always used to sneak away, and when I’d
call her on it she’d get so mad at me. She’d scream and yell about
how I was treating her like a little kid.”

“And I remember how you’d make poor Annie tag
along with them all the time.”

“Didn’t do much good,” I said. “Kim still
managed to get pregnant.”

Zack nodded and said, “Yeah, but that’s how
we ended up with David, and I wouldn’t trade that little guy for
anything in the whole world.”

“Me neither,” I said as the thought of my
grandson brought a smile to my face. After another moment of quiet
reflection, I sighed and said, “We’re supposed to die first. That’s
the way it goes. We’re not built to handle it the other way around.
It just… It just breaks us.”

“You’re a lot of things, but broken isn’t one
of them. I know it hurts. I know it hurts so bad that it seems like
you’ll never stop hurting, but you and I have a lot of life left to
live, and we’ve got some damn fine memories that we’ve still got to
make. We’ve got Annie, and we’ve got Arthur, and we’ve got David.
And we’ve got each other.”

“For how long?” I asked, allowing my
solemnity a sarcastic edge. “I’m wasting away, Zack.”

“You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.
You took charge of a group of hard-asses like the Rollers, and
whipped them into shape, all while fighting off zombies and a
military that wants us all dead. Do you really think a tummy-ache’s
going to be what takes you down? I don’t see it playing out like
that.”

“I don’t have much fight left,” I said. “I
really don’t.”

“Take 90% of the fight out of you and you’re
still left with ten times what anyone else’s got. And that’s why
you should rethink what you told Annie, because she’s more like you
than either of you want to admit. She’s got all the fire and the
fight that her mother’s got, and if you two start going at each
other you damn well might tear the walls down around us.”

I stiffened, and glared over at him. “Don’t
take her side, Zack. You of all people. You know why I…”

“I know, and I understand, but that doesn’t
mean you’re right.”

I looked away and dismissed his point. “I
don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“I know you don’t, but we’re still going to
talk about it. Your daughter’s right. She’s the best person for the
job, and Ben’s not a bad pick to go with her.”

“We barely know him.”

“And ever since we have he’s been busy trying
to get himself killed protecting us. He’s a good guy, and I’ve got
all the confidence in the world that he’ll protect Annie.”

I was flustered, and simply responded, “No,
Zack. Absolutely not.”

“The only reason you’re against it is because
she’s your daughter. How’s that fair to the parents of whoever you
decide to send out in her place?”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

He grimaced and said, “Yes you do.”

“No, I don’t. I’ve already lost one child. No
one should have to go through that, and I’m not going through it
again.”

“So you’re just going to lock her up in a
room for the rest of her life?” he asked with pointed sarcasm.

“If I could, I would.”

“And you’re going to make her hate you for
it.”

I was so tired, and I wanted to leave the
room and never think about this conversation again. “I don’t want
to…”