Thicker than Blood (17 page)

The infected continued its broken shamble
toward me, growing closer with every limping step, yet I still
couldn’t move. As it stumbled over a large tree branch in its way,
I found myself snorting, then laughing. Laughing! Coughing, I
attempted to clear my throat, but I was still unable to stop
laughing. The infected seemed somewhat incensed by the sound, or
maybe that was only me projecting my emotions on a creature that
didn’t feel anything but hunger and the urge to kill.

Just like me. Hungry to live, and willing to
kill to continue to do so.

It was within arm’s reach now, and I was at
least able to raise my blade a little higher. But my damn arm was
shaking and I knew—I just fucking knew it was going to bite me if I
didn’t do something. But I couldn’t; I just couldn’t.

“Jesus, Eve!” Alex charged past me, barging
into the infected just as it reached for me, and threw it to the
ground. Dropping to his knees, Alex smashed the grip of his rifle
into its head, the sickening sound of bones cracking and brain
splattering under the impact causing me to feel even sicker.

Scowling up at me, Alex got to his feet.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded angrily.

I opened my mouth but no sound came out, not
even air. I was literally at a loss for words to explain myself or
my behavior.

Giving me a hard look, Alex shook his head
and turned away. “Get your shit together,” he called out over his
shoulder as he stormed back inside.

Dizzy and disoriented, I slumped to the
ground. This wasn’t me. I didn’t do this. I always had my shit
together; I’d had my shit together for the past four years. I
didn’t lose it like this, yet my vision was tunneling right in
front of me and still, I could barely breathe.

From within the cabin, I could hear the
faint sound of arguing, and then what sounded like a physical
scuffle. I knew I needed to pick myself up and get in there, to see
what was going on, but I couldn’t make my legs work. Just the
thought of standing felt strenuous, in fact everything felt
strenuous. It was just too much, it was all way too much for me to
cope with.

A short, sharp scream rang through the air
but was cut off as quickly as it had begun, and then a mere moment
later, the man stormed out of the cabin and took off running into
the woods. Another moment passed before Leisel exited the cabin.
Her eyes found me and she headed in my direction, taking a seat
beside me on the ground. Draping an arm over my shoulders, she
rested her head against mine.

“Alex killed her,” she whispered. “She woke
up and lunged for her dad. He wasn’t quick enough, but Alex
was.”

Taking a deep breath as my vision cleared, I
felt my lungs finally expanding fully, enabling me to take a
much-needed breath of air. I glanced at Leisel, debating whether to
respond to what she’d told me, but found her looking off into the
distance as tears glistened on her cheeks, and decided for the
moment to just let it be.

Eventually Alex joined us, his teeth clenched
and his jaw locked. “Sort your shit out, Eve,” he said shortly.
“You can’t screw up like that again.”

Sniffing, I nodded. He was right; I was being
weak when I needed to be strong. But I also knew that this—his
anger—was his way of dealing with what had just happened. That like
me, he had his own coping mechanism, and right now he wasn’t coping
well. He was mentally and physically strong, but everyone had their
breaking point.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, blinking rapidly in
an attempt to stop my threatening tears from falling. Because I was
sorry. Sorry for losing it, for nearly getting myself bitten as
well as putting everyone else in danger, and sorry because of the
terrible thing he’d just had to do.

“Don’t apologize for being human,” Leisel
said softly, squeezing me closer as she glared accusingly at Alex.
“Don’t ever apologize for that, Eve.”

• • •

Hours passed before the man returned, and when he
did he didn’t as much as look at us, let alone say anything about
us still being there. Honestly, I didn’t know why we were. We
didn’t owe him anything, yet we stayed.

Noises erupted from within the cabin, as
if objects were being tossed around. The loud banging and clanging
only lasted for a minute before the man reappeared with a small
shovel in hand. With a defeated-sounding sigh, Alex joined him and
together they took turns digging a small hole in the
ground.

The three of us stood by silently while the
man brought out his daughter, wrapped tightly in a blood-soaked
sheet, and laid her gently in the ground. Alongside her he laid a
ragged-looking teddy bear and a folded piece of paper that looked
to be a wrinkled photograph. After she was buried, the upturned
dirt packed around and above her, the man walked back inside the
cabin without a word to any of us, and closed the door behind
him.

No one spoke; there were no words. This
shouldn’t have happened, this wasn’t fair, she’s gone to a better
place, and she’s at peace now,
blah-blah-fucking-blah.
It all seemed pointless to
voice.

“Should we see if he has any weapons we can
use?” I asked, rubbing my temples. “Or maybe ask him if he knows
where we can get a vehicle?”

“Let’s come back tomorrow,” Leisel suggested.
“Give him time to grieve.”

All of us agreeing on that being the best
course of action, we headed back to our tree stand. It wasn’t yet
dark out, the sun still hanging heavy in the sky, mirroring how
heavy I felt.

Children offered hope, and when a child was
taken from this world, it made it seem a lot darker of a place to
try to live within.

I lay awake for hours that night, staring up
into the treetops, exhausted but unable to sleep. I listened to
Alex’s snoring, the branches blowing in the light breeze, until
eventually I turned, finding Leisel wide awake and watching me.

I offered her a small smile and she returned
it, cuddling closer to me. I knew exactly what she was
thinking—that days like today made it all seem so damn
hopeless.

• • •

The sun woke us early the next morning. Quickly, we
washed up in the creek and then headed back for the cabin, but when
we arrived, we found it empty. Even the blood-soaked sheets on the
small bed were gone.

A small note was pinned to the open door, and
on it two simple words had been penned:

Thank you.

Leisel

“Now what?” Evelyn asked, sounding irritated. “Now
what the fuck are we supposed to do?”

Neither of us had gotten much sleep the night
before, but Evelyn looked worse than I did. Large dark circles
ringed her bloodshot eyes, her shoulders slumped, and her hands
trembled slightly.

“He didn’t owe us anything,” I told her
gently. “We just met him at a bad time.”

“I know that!” she shouted, growing even more
agitated. “But…but now what?” She gestured around the empty cabin,
her eyes wide, her nostrils flaring. “We have nothing, Lei!
Nothing!”

“Not nothing.” Alex interrupted us, and we
both glanced to where he was standing. There was a small chest at
the end of the bed, and Alex was rifling through it, pulling out
articles of clothing and tossing them onto the bed. Evelyn and I
both stared at the varied shades of pinks and yellows, clothing
that so obviously had belonged to the little girl we’d helped bury
yesterday.

I couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the
tears that formed. Memories of her dying breaths, her sweet little
face contorted in pain, and her father’s grief-stricken wails
filled my thoughts. Just yesterday they’d both been here, alive and
surviving, and now the child was dead and her father was gone.
Gritting my teeth, I pushed back my emotions. Now wasn’t the time
for it, not when there were three of us right here, fighting
through another day.

“We can’t use those, Alex,” Evelyn said
tersely. “They’re too small.”

Alex didn’t pause in his digging. “We can use
them as rags, as bandages, and a million other things, Eve. There’s
more,” he continued, holding up a woman’s dress. “I’m guessing he
had a wife at some point.”

Alex tossed another pile of clothing onto the
bed, and as I walked forward to inspect it, I noticed Evelyn had
hesitated. I glanced back at her with a questioning look that
seemed to jolt her into motion, and together we headed for the
bed.

Not many of the items Alex found were
functional clothing, at least not in this new world. There were
dresses, many of them sleeveless, and lightweight dressy tops that
would have been perfect had I needed to go to a job interview, not
dodge the living dead and half-crazed humans.

More importantly, I didn’t want to wear
someone else’s clothing. Clothing that belonged to a family now
destroyed. But what choice did we have? The stench of decay and
death, blood, sweat, and other foul smells wouldn’t leave our
current clothing, no matter how many times we tried rinsing them
clean.

Eventually we managed to find a few things we
could use. For a bra, I used one of the little girl’s tank tops. It
was chest-compressing tight, only reaching to above my belly
button, but was already doing a better job of supporting my breasts
than the bra I’d been wearing since we’d escaped Fredericksville.
Over that I slipped on a black loose-fitting, long-sleeved cotton
shirt that had ridiculous lace insets in the back and belled
sleeves. Thankfully there had been a pair of jeans inside that
trunk as well. They were too big for Evelyn’s slim figure, and far
too long for my short legs, but after rolling them a few times,
they fit me comfortably.

Evelyn was less fortunate, having to settle
for a pair of gray dress pants, and a pale pink child’s
long-sleeved nightgown to use as a shirt. Both of us looked utterly
ridiculous in our ill-fitting, mismatched outfits, but anything was
better than nothing. Or so I kept telling myself.

Alex fared far worse than we did. The only
men’s clothing to be found was a white button-down shirt, a long
black tie, and a wrinkled pair of dress pants. He opted to keep his
filthy BDUs on, but decided to exchange his ruined and
blood-stained T-shirt for the button-down.

I found myself watching him as he pulled the
shirt over his head, mesmerized by the way the muscles in his back
and arms would flex with even the simplest movement. Thomas had
always been in great shape, but Alex—the breadth of him, his
stature, and the size of his muscles—put Thomas to shame.

I felt a chill then, not from the weather,
but brought on by the direction of my thoughts. What was I doing
staring at this man like this? And comparing him to my husband, my
first husband, who I’d loved more than anything? What was wrong
with me?

I started to turn away, ashamed of myself,
when Alex turned back around, fully dressed, and slipped quickly
back into his military-issued jacket. Seeing the button-down
beneath the dark and dirty canvas, I started to laugh.

“You look handsome,” I blurted out.

“Yeah?” He smiled at me. “Should I put the
tie on too?”

Before I could answer, Evelyn stepped between
us. She looked from me to Alex and then back to me again. “What’s
the plan?” she asked, her tone serious, instantly breaking the
lighthearted moment.

Not knowing, I looked again at Alex, whose
smile was now gone. Sighing, he closed his eyes.

“South,” he said, and when he opened his
eyes, his usual grimace was back in place. “We head south like we’d
planned.”

• • •

We spent the night in the cabin, searching every
nook and cranny for anything the man might have left behind. In the
end, when we gathered our finds, it didn’t amount to much. Other
than a few articles of clothing, a tin mug, a rusty old hammer, and
a plastic jug, there was nothing of worth left.

While Alex went out in search of dinner,
Evelyn and I busied ourselves tying together some of the little
girl’s clothing to make a sling purse of sorts, and used that to
store what we’d collected.

By the time Alex returned it was dark out,
and Evelyn had started a small fire in the pot-bellied stove for
both light and warmth. Huddled together around the small stove, we
ate our dinner, consisting of two chipmunks and some berries,
mostly in silence.

Evelyn, I noticed, was more withdrawn then
I’d ever seen her before. She was moody, her highs and lows
becoming more and more noticeable. She outright snapped at Alex,
and avoided any sort of conversation at all with me. Although she
stayed by my side, still seeking me as a source of comfort, I could
tell something was definitely wrong. There was an inner turmoil I
could see, anguish and anger written all over her face. I felt
helpless, not knowing the right thing to do or say to ease any of
it for her, so in the end I didn’t say anything at all.

During the night, while Evelyn and I were
occupying the small bed together, and Alex had lain on the floor in
front of the door, the wind began to pick up, causing the
temperature to drop drastically inside the cabin. Without blankets
or the added body heat of Evelyn, who’d curled in on herself and
was facing the wall, I woke to the sound of my own teeth
chattering.

Freezing, I sat up in bed, finding Alex wide
awake and propped up against the wall beside the stove, a small
fire still blazing within.

“It-it’s c-c-cold,” I whispered, rubbing my
hands up and down my arms.

“Come over here,” he whispered. “The fire is
warm.”

Not wanting to wake Evelyn, I hesitated only
a moment before I tiptoed toward him, crossing the creaking
floorboards as quietly as possible. Holding up his arms in welcome,
Alex spread his knees apart, indicating that I should take the
space between them. Part of me balked at such an intimate embrace,
but the other part of me, the part that was cold and feeling
dejected about our current circumstances, wanted to readily accept
the warmth he was offering.