Zomb-Pocalypse 2 (15 page)

Silas is actually shaking as he finishes his story, and I instinctively move in closer and hug him. He surprises me by not immediately rejecting me like he always does and instead he wraps his arms around me tightly. He squeezes me so hard that I let out an involuntary yip of pain when my ribs protest, and he releases me immediately.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, getting to his feet to open a cupboard door and stare inside. “I’m starving,” he says, his drawl thicker than usual, and just like that, Silas is back to his regular self, or pretending to be anyway.

I blink up at him in surprise and then get to my feet, wincing a little. Silas turns around and catches the grimace on my face.

“I should check out those ribs, make sure they aren’t broke,” he says, coming to stand in front of me, and I blush when he gently grasps the bottom of my shirt. “…unless you’d rather Ryan took a look at it,” he says, his hand pausing.

“I…” I begin, not really sure what to say. I wouldn’t be any more comfortable lifting my shirt for Ryan.

“It’s just your ribs,” Silas says calmly. “You’d show more skin in a bathing suit.” His words do calm me a little, since I did use to rock a pretty awesome bikini, so I give a quick nod. He gently peels my shirt up just high enough to see my rib cage, stopping before he exposes my bra.

He glances up at me sharply when he sees the bruising. “You should have said something—does it hurt?” he lectures, and I give him a rueful smile.

“Only when I breathe,” I retort, not wanting to admit how badly it actually does hurt. Silas stares at me grimly without cracking so much as a smile, and I feel the urge to squirm beneath his gaze. Thankfully he looks away, back at my ribs, and gently runs his fingers along each rib. I know he isn’t pressing hard, and it doesn’t hurt until he gets to the two bottom ribs where I took the full force of the kick.

I grit my teeth while he prods away. When he finally removes his hand, my legs go weak with relief, and I have to grip the table for support. “You were lucky, nothing is broken,” he says, and I nod, grateful that it wasn’t worse. “It’s very likely that your ribs are bruised or cracked though,” he says, dumping cold water all over my gratitude. I frown at him, panic starting to bubble up in my chest.

Bruising doesn’t sound like more than a mild annoyance, but the
cracked
word has me scared. “What does that mean?” I demand, terrified that I am in need of a hospital, with none around.

“It’s impossible to tell without an x-ray, but fortunately both are treated the same way,” Silas says, stepping back and letting my shirt fall back down as he reaches for his pack. When he steps away, I can clearly see Ryan silhouetted in the bathroom doorway, and for the life of me I have no idea how we didn’t hear him come out.

“Ryan,” I squeak, feeling like I’ve been caught doing something inappropriate, even though I know that isn’t true.

Ryan frowns at me. “Why didn’t you tell us your ribs hurt?” he demands, sounding very much like Silas, and it takes a minute for me to realize that he isn’t yelling at me for letting Silas feel around beneath my shirt.

I take a deep breath of relief and wince when it hurts. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be a bother,” I tell them honestly, and they both frown at me.

“You’re never a bother,” Ryan tells me gently.

“You
are
a bother, especially when you get hurt and don’t tell anyone. You’re a huge pain in the ass,” Silas says at almost the same time, and if it didn’t hurt so much, I probably would’ve laughed my head off. These two really are polar opposites.

Silas is unrolling a long tensor bandage from his bag when Sunny comes wandering out of her bunk. She drops her Barbie on the floor and looks up at us with her lower lip trembling.

“What’s wrong with Jane?” she asks, and I force a smile on my lips, solely for her benefit. “Is she going to die?” she asks, her voice getting louder with each tremble, and thankfully Ryan jumps to my rescue.

“Nothing, sweetheart. She just has a small owie.”

I grin at Ryan using the word “owie.”

“Why don’t I run you a nice warm bath?” Ryan suggests instead, and Sunny gives him the biggest smile ever. It’s probably been a while since she had hot water, if she’s had any since the zombies came.

Ryan runs Sunny some water and then leaves the door open so we can all hear her splashing around, leaving Silas the unpleasant task of bandaging my ribs. Unpleasant for me—not Silas. I let out a yelp, and Silas hands me a pillow to put over my face so I won’t
freak Sunny out
—how kind.

When Silas finishes, my ribs ache worse than they did before. “Hopefully it isn’t serious, and you’ll feel better in a couple days,” he tells me, digging in his bag and shaking out a couple pills. I look at his hand suspiciously, debating if I should take them or not.

“This isn’t going to knock me out is it?” I can’t help asking, and Silas shakes his head impatiently.

“No,” he tells me, and feeling reassured, I finally take them. I trust him enough not to lie to me. “It would be better if we had some ice,” he tells me as he puts all his stuff back in his bag. “You should lie down and relax for a bit,” he suggests, and Ryan nods too.

They insist that I take the big bed at the front, and then Ryan and Silas deal with Sunny and prepare dinner. Ryan even brings me dinner in bed, even though I protest that I’m fine.

“Just rest your ribs, Jane!” Silas calls from the table, and I lie back with a sigh and try to accept their help graciously.

The excitement of the day, the warm meal, warm shower, and warm air filling the trailer, all combines to knock me out practically as soon as my head hits the pillow.

I wake up suddenly when something grabs my face and begins to pry my eyelids open…

“Is she dead?” Sunny asks, letting out a shriek and jumping back when I wake up with a yelp, my arms flailing.

“Sunny. We told you to let Jane sleep!” Ryan says, stepping into the room and scooping Sunny up in his arms. “Sorry about that,” he says to me, and I shake my head as I struggle to sit up.

“It’s okay. What time is it?” I ask, letting loose a big yawn.

“Eight,” Ryan says, checking the watch on his wrist, and I’m surprised I was able to sleep that long—even more surprised that I managed to have such a good sleep after killing a man the day before.

“I’m glad Sunny woke me up.” I reassure the little girl, and she beams at me. “You two probably would’ve let me sleep all day!” I tell them, only half joking. Sunny nods her head emphatically, confirming my suspicions. “I want to reach the cabin today,” I tell them, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and getting gingerly to my feet.

My ribs protest, but already the pain isn’t as bad as it was yesterday. I think it probably is just some minor bruising, and I have no doubt that, if I still had access to an internet search, I could confirm it.

“I don’t want to leave this house,” Sunny pouts, folding her arms over her chest and looking totally adorable, even though she’s mad.

“We might be able to take it with us,” Ryan tells the little girl, and that’s news to me.

“We will?” I ask, and Ryan nods.

“We were talking about it last night, and Silas checked the weight against what the truck can haul and we’re good to go on that front.”

“Where is Silas…?” I ask, falling silent when we all hear a masculine shout from outside the trailer.

Ryan and I look at one another, twin expressions of worry etching deep lines in our faces, before running for the door, our guns in hand.

I just barely have the presence of mind to tell Sunny, “Go hide in the bathroom, and don’t come out!”

Then Ryan and I are racing outside, barely pausing before we throw the door open, our eyes looking everywhere for danger, ready to fight off an unknown number of zombies to save our friend.

My eyes land on Silas, and we both dig in our heels and stop in surprise. I was expecting to find Silas locked in a death struggle with zombies, possibly even bitten already… Instead, Silas is standing a few yards away with his gun trained on the back of a guy wearing a black hoodie with the hood up, who it appears he just caught digging around in the back of our truck.

“Take it easy, I have a gun,” Silas warns the guy when it looks like he’s going for something at his hip, and the guy freezes, hands up in the air.

“Turn around nice and slow,” Silas commands, and the guy hesitates. “I
will
shoot you,” Silas tells him, his voice leaving no doubt in any of our minds about how serious he is. With a loud sigh, the guy slowly turns around.

For a minute I’m not sure if what I’m seeing is right, and my mouth falls open as I look to Ryan to see if he sees it too.

“Silas, put the gun down,” I tell him, but he stubbornly shakes his head.

“Not on your life, Blondie,” he retorts, adjusting his aim a little.

Chapter Fifteen

“Pull that hood down,” Silas demands, and our would-be thief pulls the hood back to reveal a cascade of dark chestnut hair that falls well below her shoulders.

“Silas,” I protest when he still doesn’t lower his gun. He spares me a quick glance and arches his eyebrow up at me in challenge.

“What?” he demands, and I shake my head at him.

“You can’t aim your gun at her!” I say in exasperation, but Silas just shrugs.

“Why not?” he demands, even though he knows damn well why not! I’m nearly speechless by his behavior, but not so speechless that I don’t yell at him.

“Because she’s pregnant!” I cross my arms in front of my chest and seriously think about walking over to stand in front of her so Silas will be forced to aim his gun somewhere else.

Silas snorts, and that’s when I know that the semi- sensitive guy from last night is long gone this morning. “How do you know she’s really pregnant?” he asks suspiciously, causing me to point in exaggeration towards the swollen belly that is straining the fabric at the front of her hoodie. “Even if that’s true,” Silas continues. “It doesn’t mean she isn’t dangerous.”

I look to Ryan for help and am shocked to see that he’s actually nodding his head along with Silas.

“But…she’s pregnant,” I mumble, wondering if I am the only sane person in this asylum.

“And Danvers was a Jesus freak, Jane. You need to be smart if you want to live long enough to be part of the new world,” Silas lectures me, and I do feel a bit like a fool. However, I refuse to believe that everyone is now a psychotic maniac.

“Prove it,” Silas tells the shaking woman as he motions to her with his gun, and she flinches.

“Prove w…hat?” she asks, clearly puzzled.

“Prove that bump underneath your shirt isn’t some basketball you chucked under there to trick people,” Silas says. It sounds so ridiculous I could almost laugh, except now I also need to know that she isn’t some kind of fraudster waiting to slit our throats in our sleep.

The woman raises her chin and shakes her head. “Look, I don’t know what kind of sick shit you three are into, but I’m not showing you anything,” she looks angry, and if it had been me on my own, I might have folded, but not Silas. I wince when he cocks the hammer back on his pistol, and so does the woman.

“Alright,” she holds up her hands again, puffing hard. “Just, please don’t hurt me or the baby,” she begs, and Silas gives her a single nod.

Her hands shake as she starts to pull the bottom of her shirt up. “Nice and slow,” Silas demands, obviously worried she might be going for a weapon, and I’ll admit, the thought also crossed my mind.

The woman shoots us all an angry look and lifts her shirt to reveal, not a basketball, but a bulging, swollen belly, all pale flesh marked by angry red stretch marks. I grimace a little; I can’t help myself. The miracle of life is
not
a pretty sight.

“Thank you,” I tell her, speaking for the group when neither of the guys says anything. “We aren’t sicko’s or anything, we’ve just been through hell and run into A LOT of not very nice people lately.” I shrug, trying to show her that we don’t mean her any harm.

I elbow Silas in the ribs, and he grudgingly puts the weapon down. “You could have just asked us for some food,” Ryan says, finally speaking up, and I know he’s like me, a bit of a bleeding heart, horrified to see a pregnant woman out here alone.

The woman snorts, reminding me vividly of Silas. “You said it yourself, there’s a lot of not very nice people out here. I’ve learned the hard way to avoid them.”

I nod. I totally get where she’s coming from. I don’t think I would have been walking up and knocking on any doors either, if our situation was reversed. “Do you want to come in and have a rest? We have plenty of food,” I offer, giving her my best ‘we are not dangerous criminals’ smile… even though we did just make the poor woman show us her baby bump. The woman is already shaking her head and backing away.

“I think I’ll just be on my way,” she says stubbornly, and I have to suppress the urge to shake her.

“Where’s your car?” I blurt out, the question perplexing me now that I’ve thought of it.

The woman looks like a deer caught in the headlights. “It’s…” she starts to stammer, and I can already tell that she is trying to think up a quick lie to tell us.

“Is it okay to come out now?” Sunny interrupts suddenly, poking her head out of the trailer door. The woman looks startled to see her and pauses to watch the little girl cautiously look both ways for danger before running over and nestling in beside Ryan.

“Sunny,” I start to lecture her, but then purse my lips, not wanting the woman to think we are monsters. I glance up and see that she’s looking at the little girl with a soft expression on her face.

“My car broke down a couple days ago, I’ve been walking ever since,” the woman admits, looking up and catching me watching her.

My eyes go round as I stare at her enormous belly; that can’t be comfortable. “That’s terrible,” I say, “And super dangerous!” I can’t resist adding. Can this chick even run?

“Would you like to come in and have something to eat?” Silas asks her again, having read the change of heart on her face the moment she saw Sunny. She doesn’t really think we’re monsters anymore.

The woman thinks for a minute before nodding her head. “Thank you,” she says wearily, and Ryan and Sunny lead the way, leaving Silas and I to follow them in.

I watch the woman pause to kick off her shoes, and my eyes widen to see how swollen her feet are. She lets out a sigh and gingerly lowers herself down onto the couch—her belly is too large to fit at the table.

Silas digs in his bag and hands her a bottle of water, and she gratefully gulps it down. He pulls out an assortment of power bars and sets them down beside her. Then he digs out an MRE and holds it up so she can read it: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, and corn. She nods her head vigorously and attacks a power bar while we all watch intently as Silas heats up the MRE.

“What’s your name?” Sunny asks with the typical bluntness of young children, and the woman gives her a small smile as she quickly finishes chewing her mouthful.

“I’m Natalie,” she says, and Sunny beams.

“I had a friend named Natalie in school…before,” she tells our guest, and Natalie gives her a sad smile.

Silas hands her the food, and we all watch as she takes a huge bite and burns her tongue, but it doesn’t really deter her. It makes me wonder when the last time she had something to eat was. She glances up at us staring at her and blushes.

“We should go do something,” I say, hoping the boys will get the hint. “Lots to do,” I add, giving them each a look in turn.

“Yeah…okay,” Silas says, turning around and going outside without another word.

“I actually should pack up,” Ryan mutters, giving Natalie a kind smile before he pulls Sunny away with him into the back bedroom to start packing up their stuff.

I give the woman a nod and then follow Silas outside.

“See, don’t you feel good helping someone out?” I ask, coming up behind Silas as he’s tightening the ropes over our load in the back of the truck, where Natalie had been loosening them. He spares me a quick glance.

“Not especially,” he grunts before going back to his task. I roll my eyes at his back before turning around to survey the yard. One of the trees catches my eye, and I let out an exclamation of delight.

Silas spins around, with his gun up, and frowns when he doesn’t see anything that needs shooting. “What’s going on, Blondie?” he asks, clearly confused, and I give him a grin as I point across the yard at the enormous tree dotted with bright red apples.

Silas doesn’t say anything as he starts walking over, and I jog to catch up. “Do you think they’re still good to eat, because it’s been so cold?” I ask, my heart stuttering when I remember the early fall frost we experienced the night before.

Silas stands underneath the tree and examines it, reaching up to pluck a low hanger apple. I watch him polish it on his sleeve and take a big bite. I can hear how crisp it is by the loud crunch, and my mouth waters.

“They taste alright, I don’t think it’s been cold enough to wreck them,” he says after he swallows his bite. He catches a glimpse of the longing on my face and reaches up to grab an apple for me. “The ones on the ground aren’t good, but everything still on the tree should be fine,” he says, and I start to wonder if he’s somehow an expert on apple trees too!

The fresh apple is one of the best things I’ve tasted in a long time. The canned fruit is okay, but nothing compares to the taste of something organic and fresh from the garden. “We should pick a whole bunch,” I suggest excitedly, and Silas glances up at me.

“I thought you were in a big rush to get to the cabin?” he asks, and I frown.

“I am, but I don’t think stopping to pick a couple apples will make or break us,” I retort, turning my back on him to look around for something to collect the apples in.

“I have some grocery bags in my backpack,” Silas says, pulling his pack off and digging around until he pulls out a handful of crinkled plastic bags. He passes me a couple and then begins to reach up and pluck apples from the lower branches. I look up a little, and then up some more. Silas is tall, but I’m not even tall enough to reach the apples on the lowest branch. I walk over and pull myself up into the y-shaped crook of the tree. Silas glances over at me and chuckles as he watches me climb, not very gracefully, until I can reach some of the higher apples. I make sure I’m not going to fall on my face, then let go of the rough bark and start to hastily fill my bag.

“So, Ryan said something about taking the trailer?” I ask, striking up a conversation with Silas. Silas grunts in response and picks a couple more apples before replying.

“Might as well. It’s better than most of the houses we stay in, no more clearing houses or being attacked by stray dogs in the night, and we could use it when we get to the cabin too,” he defends.

“I think it’s a great idea,” I tell him as I fill the first bag and pass it down to him, pausing to eat another apple before starting on my second bag. I’m halfway through my second bag when a lumbering shadow catches my eye.

“Silas,” I murmur, and the urgency in my voice alerts him to the danger. He looks up at me quizzically, and I point over his shoulder. He spins, dropping his bag of apples, and already has his gun up before he’s even come to a complete stop.

The zombie is lurching along at a fairly quick pace, obviously she heard us talking and decided to come join us for lunch. She’s an ugly one too, with grisly chunks of skin hanging off of her like a half-peeled orange. At my gross fruit analogy, my stomach churns my half-digested snack around, and I drop the apple in my hand. She’s still far enough away not to be dangerous to us yet, but Silas easily lines up the shot and drops her. I watch her greasy strands of hair and blood-stained yellow sun dress thud into the grass, and feel relief.

“I think we should go,” Silas says, turning around, and for once I don’t argue. We’d momentarily lost ourselves picking apples like the world hadn’t ended, but then a zombie had shown up, and reality had bitched slapped us both hard, right across the face.

Silas reaches up and helps me out of the tree, and we both scan the area, looking for any more dead heads as we make our way back to the trailer. “I’m going to hook up the trailer. I found a hitch lying beside it in the grass, so it won’t take very long. Why don’t you go and see if everyone is ready?” Silas suggests, and I nod.

I find Sunny sitting beside Natalie, showing off her favorite Barbie. “Hey,” I say, smiling at Natalie and Sunny, even though I’m still feeling grim from my apple picking. They smile back at me, and Ryan comes over and touches me on the shoulder as he brings some bags over and sets them down by the door. “So, Silas wants to get back on the road,” I tell them and then watch as Natalie’s face falls. “Where are you headed?” I ask her, and she blushes.

“Watseka,” she replies, obviously unwilling to elaborate. I am not all that familiar with geography, but that name sounds familiar. It pushes at my conscious until it’s an all-out prod.

“Wait a minute,” I say, drawing every eye towards me. “Watseka is on the way to the cabin. Abby’s family always stopped there for ice cream...” I tell Ryan, and his face splits into a grin.

“That’s perfect, we can give you a ride,” he enthuses, and I smile, glad that we can help her. It’s right on our way, so Silas can’t even complain about it too much.

We feel a slight swaying as Silas backs up to the trailer and connects it to the truck. “That would be great thanks…” the woman says as she slowly gets to her feet with a grunt of pain. We clearly hear her hip pop and we all wince, especially her, as we head for the door.

I let Natalie have the front seat because it has more room, and we all wait in silence for Silas to come back from pulling the slides in on the trailer. Our temporary home looks much smaller now; it’s surprising.

Silas gets into the truck and slams the door, eyeballing the pregnant woman riding shot gun.

“She’s coming with us?” he rudely asks Ryan and me, completely skipping over asking Natalie herself.

I shake my head, knowing Silas can see me in the rear-view mirror. “She needs a ride to Watseka…it’s on the way,” I tell him when he looks like he’s going to object.