Learning To Live (Zombie Overload Series) (6 page)

"W-Will?
D-did...did you really just talk?" I ask, feeling foolish.

How
could he have? It's all just a trick my mind is playing on me.
And
Jake, too?
Well, that
I
don't know.

We
both watch Will closely. I'm begging him in my mind to please talk,
please
be alive!

He
blinks.

He
blinked!

And
then he croaks out, "Yes."

I
quickly crawl across the floor to Will and Jake follows. Carefully,
we turn him over and discover that I had missed him-obviously-with
the bullet. Will explains that he collapsed to the ground as I
screamed I loved him, knowing what was coming when I finished.

I
half laugh, half cry with relief and joy. How many people have had to
see a loved one as a zombie and had no choice but to kill them? I
ache for them. I really do. Even though Will is alive, I didn't know
that at the time.

But
I still have my loved one and I'm going to keep his ass alive until
he dies of old age. At least I'm damn sure going to try to.

I
glance over at Jake and my body turns ice-cold with fear. He's
looking at Will as if he wishes Will
had
died! But as fast as
the look is there, it's gone when he looks up at me.

Surely
it was just the dim light that made it seem as if he was looking at
Will that way,
right? I mean, he's upset-I get that-but surely
Jake isn't that cruel, that heartless,
that selfish
!

No.
I couldn't have really seen that frightening,
evil
look on
Jake's face.

Tearing
my eyes-and mind-away from Jake, I grab a bottle of the water and
hold it for Will as he sips from it. Finally, he's able to tell us
what happened to him.

Back
at Ma's house when everyone had gone to save Sam, Will had come face
to face with an undead in the kitchen. It stood between him and the
hallway. He aimed his gun and squeezed the trigger, but it was empty.
He searched through his pockets, but found no ammo.

Will
realized he must have run out when the zombies had surrounded us out
front and he'd forgotten to get more. He decided he was just going to
have to use the knife on the zombie, when two more came out of the
bedroom off the kitchen. Knowing he could never take down three
full-grown male zombies, Will yelled for the others, but with Sam
screaming, no one could hear him.

He
pauses at this point and stares hard at Jake, who just stares back,
his jaw clenched but no other expression.

What
is
that
about?

"Will,
what's wrong?" I look between him and Jake.

Will
turns his attention back to me, and says, "Nothing. Let me
finish."

Jake
lets out a breath and now I'm even more curious but I let it go so I
can listen to Will as he finishes his story.

Will
had decided the only option he had was to go out the back door and
around to the front. But when he went outside, the neighbor to the
right had a yard full of zombies and so did the neighbor on the left.
Ma's privacy fence did a good job of keeping them out of her yard,
but Will had nowhere to go and no time to do anything else but climb
up in the big tree my brother, Ricky, and I climbed as kids. He
climbed up as high as he could before the branches got smaller and
weaker, but it was high enough.

He
yelled for us once, but the zombies on the outside of the fence went
nuts. Will was afraid they would break the fence down and then we
would all be screwed, so he just sat up there, feeling like a treed
fox with three hounds at the bottom. He sat up there for at least an
hour before he heard us leave, his gut clenching with fear.

After
another half hour-and the damn zombies below still not giving up and
leaving-Will finally began to look for another way out. He noticed a
couple of the branches went out over the garage, and he took a
chance, praying the branches would hold him. They did...barely. They
broke on him just as he cleared the roof. He fell hard on his side
and thought he cracked a couple ribs, definitely bruised them. He
told us it's hurt him to breathe ever since, but he made it to the
roof. That's all he cared about.

He
sat on the roof of the garage and watched the three zombies leave the
tree, and move toward Will's new position. With both neighbors yards
full of undead, and more starting to trickle down the alley, he had
no idea what he was going to do next.

Then
he remembered all the times I got on my Ma's case about her leaving
the keys in her car and he prayed she ignored me as usual. Taking as
deep a breath as he could without passing out from pain, he jumped
off the roof in front of the door to the garage, twisted the knob,
rushed in, and slammed the door shut just as the three undead reached
it.

He
ran to the car, knowing the smaller garage door, with its
single-paned window that takes up almost the entire top half of the
door, wouldn't hold very long. Jerking the door open on Ma's car, he
jumped in, reached for the keys in the ignition and almost crapped
himself when they weren't there!

He
freaked out for a moment and then forced himself to calm down and
think. He started checking the floor, sun visor and glove box for the
keys, not really having any hope of finding them. Frustrated and
terrified because he
wasn't
finding them and the undead had
just busted in the door, he almost missed them when he checked the
console.

Snatching
then up and shoving them in the ignition, he turned the key and the
car roared to life. He punched the button for the garage door and
impatiently waited until it was up just enough for the car to clear
it, the zombies already trying to bust in the car's windows. He
floored it in reverse and mowed down a few undead in the alley behind
him. Then he put the car in drive and shot down the alley.

He
drove to the highway, certain he was going to catch up with us soon.
Then, the car died. Just...died. No reason. It had gas. It didn't act
like anything was wrong with it. It. Just. Died.

He
tried to start it a few times but then stopped, fearing it would
attract more undead, and started walking. It was slow going and he
knew that, unless we stopped for a very long time, he wasn't going to
catch up with us. He stayed off the highway since the undead seemed
to prefer it-probably because so much of their favorite food is found
there, he assumed. He traveled through high weeds, large mud and
water holes-which were freezing cold, he tells us-bushes, branches,
in and out of trees, and climbed more than a few fences.

He
was scraped and scratched by various things, slapped with branches,
fell several times, was seen and stalked by undead a few times, and
was incredibly tired. He had nothing safe to drink or eat, and no
time to
make
anything safe to drink or eat, as the undead damn
sure don't honor time-outs.

Will
did go back on the highway to try and get another vehicle, but an
undead woman shot up from the backseat when he opened the front door
of the first one he came to. The sound of him slamming the door when
she startled him brought a whole bunch of moans to his ears. Fleeing
back to the ditch, he scrambled up the other side and ran as fast and
as long as he could before the pain in his ribs forced him to slow.

For
hours he walked, dodged, climbed, ran, hid and grew weaker from lack
of food, water, and rest. He said several times he wanted to just
give up and collapse, but he thought of me and our boys, and kept
going.

There's
that damn guilt again
, I think as I look at
Jake and meet his eyes, then look away quickly. Will caught the
glance I gave Jake and-with suspicion-looks at both of us through
narrowed eyes.

To
my relief, Will let's it go. For now. I am
not
looking forward
to later, but for now he continues telling us what he had gone
through.

He
finally came stumbling up the side of the highway to where we are
now. He was freezing, starving, thirsty, tired, weak, and in pain
from numerous injuries. He says he looked up and saw the gas station
and what he thought was a truck that looked exactly like the ones we
had taken. Barely able to focus clearly, he refused to let the hope
build. He hid in the darkness across from the front of the gas
station and watched as Jake scared me but was unable to call out or
move, his body close to giving up on him.

Oh,
shit! He had to have seen that Jake tried to kiss me again.
I look at Jake and he drops his head, but I'm almost
positive I see a grin on his face! I look at Will to see if he
noticed Jake's reaction too. His eyes turn cold and his jaw
tightens-but he swallows hard, looks at me, and finishes his story.

He
was able to force his body toward the store after we went inside,
knowing his time was almost up and he had little hope of making it
much further if we left without him. He stumbled and fell in the
darkness beside the soda machine near the front door. He watched Jake
come back out and as soon as Jake turned the corner of the store,
Will struggled back to his feet and made it inside.

He
focused on getting to the open employee door. Hearing my cry when I
realized who he was, he turned and came toward me. Will watched me
raise the gun, heard my message to him, saw me close my eyes and he
dropped to the floor.

"And
now, here we are," he ends the story of his journey with a weak
sigh, holding his arm over his ribs. He looks so horrible!
Well,
obviously he isn't looking pretty.
I mean,
I
did
think he was a
zombie.

"I
can't believe you're alive and right here in front of me! I love you,
Will." I lean forward and give him a soft gentle kiss on his
lips―Jake glares at me―Will tells me he loves me too―Jake
glares at Will. I hate to do it, but I ask Jake to help me get Will
up and to the truck. Jake looks like he wants to refuse, but finally
and with a little bit of an attitude, he helps me.

I
really hope Jake can get past this. I mean, he never really
had
me long enough for this to be such a huge damn deal. Maybe I'm
just an idiot. Guess that could be right.

Because
of his reaction, I feel bad about kissing and telling my own husband
that I love him in front of Jake! But wouldn't it be more wrong to
hide my feelings for my husband and not give my husband what is
rightfully his? Good lord! What a mess!

We
get Will inside the back of the truck and comfortably settled before
Jake and I head back inside. Jake grabs my arms and stops me, turning
me to face him. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He pulls me
close and hugs me tight. I give in for a few short seconds and wrap
my arms around his waist. He pulls back slightly and kisses me hard
on the lips. I kiss him back.

I
admit it.
I did this, and even though my heart is breaking for
betraying Will, I can't stop myself. At last, I pull away from Jake,
turn, pick up a box, and take it outside. As I pass Will, I give him
a quick look and a weak smile, terrified he can see the guilt burning
on my face. He says nothing and I go back inside.

Jake
and I start bringing out as much as we can fit into the storage areas
of the truck, emptying them from their boxes so we have more room. I
grab some ready-to-eat items and bottles of water and set them on the
seat next to Will. I dig out the bag of medical supplies and
medications we have accumulated over the last few days and put that
on the floor next to him. Finally, we are ready to go and I sit in
the back with Will. Jake sits up front and I catch him several times
looking at me in the rearview mirror.

Doing
my best to ignore Jake and not make Will even more suspicious, I use
some of the bottled water and one of our rags to wash Will's hands
and face the best I can. Then I disinfect and bandage the wounds I
can get to and wrap his ribs with an ace bandage.
Best I can do
for now.

I
settle next to him and catch him up on what all everyone's been up
to-
uh, well, most of it
. He's happy to hear about Bianca
joining us but-like me-he's nervous about her safety right now. I've
not been able to get an answer when I try to call her, but I'm doing
my best to keep in mind that
anything
other than the worst
could have happened.

Eventually,
Will falls asleep and I watch him for a while, thanking God again
that he's alive and we are back together. I turn my head to look out
the front windshield and catch Jake's eyes in the rearview mirror,
looking back at me again, but this time he signals with his head for
me to come up front.