Love Charms (28 page)

Evan
held me tight, embraced me, squeezing me against him.  His cock twitched inside
of me as I coaxed forth more of his cream with my desirous climax.  He held me
and kissed my neck and my shoulders and strained to kiss my cheek.  I nearly
died; I felt so overloaded with pleasure.

This
was unlike anything I'd ever felt before.  I wanted more.

Evan
softened inside of me and I fluttered down from my sexual high.  Slow, gentle,
still ablaze, I could at least think better now, though.  I turned to him and
pursed my lips and tried to kiss him and he slid forward and touched his lips
to mine.

"I
can think again," I said, giddy.  "I'm sorry I interrupted you."

"It's
alright," he said.  "I can't say I minded."

"What
were you saying about... about..."  I remembered now.  Casual, he said. 
Casual sex.  This was that, wasn't it?  I fell, dropped, cooled down suddenly.

"I
don't want this to be casual," he said.  "Sadie, I'd like to see you
again, if that's alright?"

I
spun around.  His cock slipped out of my folds, leaving a taste of warmth and
coolness where it had once lay inside me, but I didn't care.  I hugged him and
wrapped my legs and arms around him, pulling him to me.  I kissed him, ignoring
the tingling flares sparking along my lips whenever we touched.  He kissed me,
too, caught up in my passion.

"Is
that a yes?" he asked when I finally let him free for a second.

"You'll
really come back?" I asked, still unsure if this was all real or
imaginary.

"I'd
like to.  I..."  He paused and frowned.  "I need to leave in the
morning.  If I don't, they'll send someone looking for me.  I wasn't even
supposed to be in the city today.  I was supposed to be hunting.  I'll come
back, though.  I promise."

I
listened and nodded.  I touched my nose against his and laughed at the tickling
feel of it.  He smiled and watched me with glimmering, happy eyes.

"You
don't think I'm... strange, then?" I asked.  "I know I'm different. 
I'm sorry about that, Evan.  I don't look nice anymore.  I can't help it but
I'll try.  I might be able to find some makeup to cover up my skin.  It's this
color all the time and I don't know why.  I'll try to look regular for you. 
I'll..."

"Sadie,"
Evan said, shushing me by putting his finger on my lips.  "I think you're
beautiful.  You don't have to do anything special for me.  I like you the way
you are."

Did
he really, though?  I thought about it while we huddled together, cuddling. 
Drifting to sleep, happy for the first time in months, I wondered if this could
work.

Everything
seemed perfect now, but what about when he left?

The
haze would overtake me, spreading throughout my body.  Coolness replacing
Evan's warmth and confusion muddling my mind.

And
then what?

Heartless

I
wake up, cold, huddling beneath the covers.  I want to lay there and sleep more
and forget everything, forget why I'm awake, to dream, but something snaps me
back to reality.  No matter what I do, I can't warm up.  I pull the blankets
higher, higher still, covering myself from chin to toe.  When that doesn't
work, I pull the covers all the way over me.  My arms feel stiff and ungainly
like maybe I've broken them, but I don't think that's possible.  They don't
hurt and I would feel it if they were broken, right?

Suddenly,
I panic.  This isn't my bed.  Urgent, rushing, I throw the blankets off of me
and try to jump up and out of bed but I stumble and fall to my knees.  This
isn't my room and this isn't my house.  Where am I?

Am
I drunk?  Did I go out to a bar last night and drink too much and...?  Is this
some person's house?  Are they a friend?  Did I sleep with them?  I can't seem
to
think
, but I need to.  I glance towards the bed, trying to figure
something out, anything.  Next to my previous sleeping spot I see small signs
of someone else having been in bed with me.  Creased sheets, the indent of a
person's head imprinted on the pillow, the slightly upturned blankets at the
edge of the bed when they snuck out some time ago, leaving me alone.

And
then I see a note.  I believe it's a note, but maybe it's just a folded up
piece of paper.  Pulling myself off the floor, struggling up, I crawl on hands
and knees across the bed and grab for the paper.

My
hands; they're a faint blue color.  I stare at my knuckles, fascinated and
shocked and scared.  Why are my hands blue?  The paper between my fingers
becomes an afterthought as I look at myself.

I
remember now.  A slight parting of the morning haze lifts away and I can
remember somewhat of what happened.  I am dead.  I'm a zombie.  I walk around
in the city sometimes during the day, or other days I huddle up here and pretend
I don't exist.  Once in awhile I forage for canned goods and manage to convince
myself to turn on the generator outside this house long enough to heat some
food in the microwave.

I
want to do that now.  Do I have food?  I don't know.  It's morning and I'd love
a steaming bowl of apple cinnamon oatmeal.  I want to eat and feel warm and be
normal.  I want to--I check the bedside table on my side of the bed and notice
that, yes, my book is still there.  I want to read and relax for the day.  I
must be sick; I feel so cold.

The
note drops out of my hand and onto the bed, unfolding and opening in front of
me.  I stare at the words on the paper, confused.  They are a blur,
unreadable.  They exist, but not for me.  I don't know what they are.

I
continue to stare at them, though.  I
will
read them.  I think they're
important and I need to know why.

I
figure it out soon enough.

"Good
morning, Sadie," the note begins.  That's my name.  I smile.  This note is
for me and I belong here.  This isn't my room, but it is.  I can stay here.

"I'm
sorry I have to leave so early.  I want to stay.  I really really do.  I don't
know how to explain it, but I had a great time with you yesterday and last
night.  I wish I could stay and make breakfast with you and cuddle next to you
on the couch while watching Saturday morning cartoons.  We could watch whatever
you want if you don't like cartoons, though."

Cartoons
are fine, I think.  I remember getting excited about them when I was younger
and rushing into the living room, plopping down on the floor, and bringing a
bowl of excessively sweet cereal with me, with even more sugar added on top.

"I
need to go because people will be looking for me, though.  I wasn't supposed to
stay with you last night, no matter if I wanted to or not.  I have obligations
and my group's de facto leader is going to be seriously pissed with me. 
Hopefully I can find a deer or something on my walk back there so he's not too
mad, though."

"I
want you to know," the note continued, "I don't regret it.  I don't
regret anything with you and I'm not leaving because of that.  I need to leave
because some other people are relying on me, but otherwise I would stay.  I'd
wake up next to you and kiss you, Sadie.  I'd squeeze you tight and we could
talk about nothing or everything or whatever you want.  I want to see you again
and I'll come back if you'll accept me."

I
stare at the note, unsure what to say.  I don't need to say anything because no
one is here to say it to, but I feel like I should form some response in my
mind.  I feel a little better and a little warmer and I want to answer the last
part of the note, but I don't have anyone to talk to.

"This
might sound silly," I read, my lips moving along with the words, "but
will you go on a date with me, Sadie?"

The
note is signed in a man's scribbled script.  "Evan."

* * *

Evan
never found a deer.  He picked off a pair of squirrels and a rabbit on his way
back to camp, but that was it.  Somebody would enjoy them, but half the people
here wouldn't bother.  He didn't really understand that, but even after months
in the woods they acted snobby towards food.  Personally, he figured whatever
he could catch that didn't look sickly and dying was good enough for him,
especially considering the alternatives, but not everyone held the same
opinion.

No,
instead, more than a few people preferred risking their lives, rushing into the
city, and grabbing stock from convenience store shelves, grocery store shelves,
and sometimes even raiding people's homes.  Evan had no real qualms with this
and figured people could do what they wanted, but he thought it was kind of
reckless.

Who
was he to tell people they were reckless, though?  He'd snuck into the city to
study at the university and then spent the night with Sadie afterwards, so he wasn't
one to talk.

He
hoped
to arrive uneventfully back at camp, but that never happened. 
They always had guards stationed around the perimeter as per Alex's orders and
one of them spotted him as he walked up.  Someone hollered to someone else, who
continued the chain of yelling, and soon enough they were upon him.

Women
mostly.  A few children, too.  A couple of men came to take the squirrels and
rabbit and bring them to their impromptu kitchen area for gutting and
skinning.  The women fawned over him and asked him if he was hurt.

"Did
you have a run in with any zombies?" Anna asked.  "We were worried
about you, Evan."

"Were
you bit?  I bet if you get bit you turn into one of them," a little boy,
Jonah, said.

Evan
grinned.  "Sorry to disappoint you folks, but no run ins and I wasn't
bit.  Also, stop telling those rumors.  You don't turn into anything if you get
bit.  I can try it if you want to see what happens, though?"

Evan
jumped back and held his arms out like some monstrous creature, baring his
teeth at the children.  The adult women rolled their eyes at him and shook
their heads, but the children laughed and ran away.  Little ones, playful,
peeking over their shoulders every few steps to see if Evan was chasing them or
not.

He
loved children.  When he could, he tried spending time with them and playing
with them, teaching them this and that.  Survival tactics or math, maybe
English if he could.  It wasn't that he was exceptionally good at any of these
(though he was pretty good at some), but he thought they should have a life
still.  Just because everyone wanted to huddle up in this camp and wait out the
illness plaguing a majority of their fellow man didn't mean the kids should
stop learning.

He
was just about to chase them around, maybe have a bit of fun, but then Alex
marched up.  Straight-faced and with powerful, purposeful steps, he approached
Evan and gave him the once over.

"You're
not dead," Alex said.

Evan
laughed.  "Of course I'm not dead."

"This
isn't funny, Evan.  Where were you?  What happened?"

What
should he say?  He'd thought about it on the way here and he still didn't
know.  The truth?  That hardly seemed a good choice given the circumstances. 
If anyone found out he'd met Sadie, spent the night with her... made love to
her.  Well, if anyone found out any of that, they'd panic.  It wasn't really
that he cared too much, but he understood that panic wasn't the most useful
thing for managing a group of people.

"Let's
talk in my office," Alex said.  With that, he turned around and walked
away.  "Now, Evan.  Not in an hour or two.  Understand?"

Alex
didn't even look over his shoulder to say those last few words.  He just walked
away, leaving Evan in the middle of a group of anxious looking women. 
Thankfully the children wandered away before all that.  Alex had that effect on
them.

"I
think you're in trouble," Anna said with a giggle.  "I'm glad you're
safe, though."

"Have
you had breakfast?" Carla asked.  "I can make you up some oatmeal. 
We have maple syrup from the last run into town.  I'll add a spoonful if you
want?"

To
be honest, Evan would rather have had eggs and bacon, with a short stack of
pancakes.  Pancakes were still possible, but Alex refused to let him go search
for chickens for eggs, and pigs were a no, too.  Anything perishable from the
stores was long past rotten by now considering the electricity had gone out
months ago.  Or, most of the electricity, anyways.

"Oatmeal
sounds great," he said, forcing a smile.

Carla
beamed at him.  Anna said she'd help.  Laura offered to take his crossbow and
quiver back to his tent, too.  Rose and Sylvie peeled away with the rest of the
women.  They all wished Evan luck in dealing with Alex.

Figuring
he should get this over with, sighing deeply, Evan trudged onwards towards
Alex's office.  It wasn't much of an office--just a log cabin they'd built
here, with roofing tiles and insulation scavenged from a Home Depot in the
city--but Alex loved to lord over the place.  He spent his days there planning
and sifting through charts, writing up ideas, holding meetings with people he'd
appointed as advisors.