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Chapter 73


I felt so sorry for Brian, Howie, Jo, and Kayleigh, the ones who had lost their wives, their husbands, their boyfriends. I didn’t consider myself one of them. I was no widow; Shawn was still alive, still looking for me, and one day, he would find me here. It was that thought that kept me going.

July 30th was our first wedding anniversary. I had myself a good cry, thinking of how, if the world were normal, Shawn and I would have gone out to a nice dinner, then come back to the house for some year-old, freezer-burned wedding cake while we watched our wedding video and drank champagne. Instead, the day passed with no cake, no champagne, no video, and no Shawn. But I wasn’t alone. That night, I sat out on the front porch and stared up at the moon. It was a clear night, and the moon was big and beautiful, almost full. I comforted myself with the idea that, somewhere, Shawn might be gazing up at the same moon and thinking of me. It was very Fievel from An American Tail, minus the singing, but cheesy as it sounds, it made me feel better. It made me feel like Shawn was with me, somehow.

It’s been almost two months since then – more than five months since I last saw my husband. I’m not sure how much longer I can go on like this. It sounds sick, but I look at Brian, Howie, and Jo now, and in a way, I envy them. Their spouses are dead, but at least they know they’re dead. They’ve grieved and accepted it, whereas I feel like I’m stuck in some kind of limbo. I miss Shawn. I worry for Shawn. But I can’t grieve for Shawn when I haven’t accepted that I’ll never see him again, and I can’t accept that when there’s still a chance he’s alive. At this point, I just want to know. It’s killing me not to know.

I just wish someone would give me a sign.



Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Week Twenty-Three

The moon was almost full again. It shone brightly in the sky, sparkling off the water of Tampa Bay and casting shadows on the ground below. Gretchen was grateful for the extra light, but the shadows did make it seem even eerier out by the gates.

Guard duty was more nerve-wracking than ever, after what had happened to Kayleigh. She hated when her turn came around, but she hated the idea of going to sleep with no one keeping watch over the base even more, so she continued to take her turn without complaint. At least Brian was with her tonight.

He was on edge that night, too. She knew he felt at least partly to blame for Kayleigh’s death, even though there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. “You could have died, too,” she’d told him, shuddering at the thought. Brian was one of her closest friends here; she didn’t think she could take it if something bad happened to him. It had been horrible enough losing Kayleigh – and almost losing Howie before that. And now Kevin, Nick, and Riley were gone, and she had to worry about them, too. The house seemed empty without Nick and Riley; in a way, she was glad it was her turn at guard duty, because there was no way she could have slept there alone that night. At least she was with Brian. He made her feel safe – as safe as she possibly could feel, under the circumstances.

They sat side by side on the curb outside the tiny guard’s kiosk, their guns in their lap. As a breeze from off the bay rustled the nearby palms, Gretchen shivered a little, goosebumps rising on her skin from the sudden chill. Even as they entered fall, the daily temperatures were still in the upper eighties and nineties, but the temperatures at night had started to drop.

“Chilly?” Brian asked, looking over at her.

“A little. Guess I should have brought a sweatshirt.” She laughed. After months of suffering without air conditioning, it seemed ridiculous to complain about being cold. She was glad summer was over.

Brian put his arm around her and rubbed her upper arm vigorously to warm her up. It helped a little. “Thanks,” she said, smiling in his direction.

“Wanna go inside?” he asked, tipping his head toward the guard’s kiosk. They usually avoided sitting inside it; it was cramped and stuffy, and unless they left the lights off, it was hard to see outside in the dark.

Gretchen shrugged. “Okay.”

He let go of her and stood up, then extended his arm down to her to help her up, too. She thought it was cute the way he did things like that, not just for her, but all the ladies on the base. He was just chivalrous that way, a true Southern gentleman. She accepted his hand and let him pull her to her feet. She started to follow him into the kiosk, when a glimmer of movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Turning her head, she gasped, instinctively clutching Brian’s arm.

“Something’s coming,” she whispered, pointing through the gate, to the main road that extended north into the city. A lone figure was wandering down the road toward them. In the silvery light, it was a mere shadow, a dark silhouette, but it was human in shape. She had said “something” and not “someone” only because it had been so long since they’d encountered a “someone,” she assumed it had to be one of the undead – no longer a person, but a thing.

Brian moved in front of her, raising his rifle. The creature was still too far away, out of shooting range, but it was getting nearer with every step. Gretchen held her breath, watching it. Brian kept his eyes trained on it, as well, adjusting his aim as it slowly came into range. He inched closer to the gate, slipping the gun barrel between its metal bars, as his target approached it on the other side.

As the moonlight fell upon it, Gretchen suddenly cried, “Wait! Don’t shoot!”

Brian turned to look at her in surprise, but she ran past him and grabbed the bars of the gate. She yanked on them, trying to open it, but it was operated electronically and was too heavy to move manually. “Open the gate! Open the gate!” she begged Brian.

He didn’t question her, but went obediently into the guard’s kiosk to work the controls. Within a few seconds, the gate was sliding slowly but steadily open. Gretchen waited just until a gap wide enough to slide through appeared; then she slipped through it and took off running toward the figure, screaming, “Shawn! Shawn!”

She had recognized his lanky shape, his old military fatigues, and the glint of his glasses in the moonlight. Now she ran to him, her arms open wide. He came steadily toward her, calm and collected as always, and she thought in exasperation, The least you could do is meet me halfway! But she didn’t care; she would run a marathon just to fall into his arms at the finish line.

“Oh, Shawn!” she sobbed, and she hurled herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. “You found us! I always knew you’d find us!”

She felt his arms come around her, heavy and hard, and their weight comforted her; it had been so long since she’d had someone to hold her. His fingers scrabbled up her back and into her hair; it had grown long since the spring. He had lost weight; he felt bonier than ever, as if he might break if she squeezed him too hard. He stunk, as if he hadn’t showered in days, maybe even weeks. Clearly, he’d been on the road for a long time. He had been through hell. She could smell the pungent stench of the undead on his clothes. “You need a shower,” she laughed, reaching up to stroke his face.

A chunk of flesh from his cheek fell off in her hand.

She gasped, as the sickening realization hit her, and tried to pull away, but his hands were wound in her hair and held her tight. She felt them clawing at her scalp, and as she looked up into the milky, dead eyes sunken into the hollows of his decaying face, the bony fingers clenched around two hanks of her hair and tugged her head toward his gaping mouth. She caught a whiff of his rotting breath as she sucked in a lungful of air and released it in a high-pitched scream. “BRIAAAN!!!”

“GRETCHEN!” She heard his voice and the pounding of his footsteps, but there was no way he could make it to her in time, no way he could get a good shot at Shawn’s brain.

As she felt the jaws brush her forehead, she screamed and screamed.

“Gretchen! Gretch! GRETCHEN! Wake up!”

Gretchen sat up, her covers falling off her. Her hair was in tangles from writhing on her pillow, and her skin was slick with cold sweat. She was breathing hard, her heart racing. The bedroom was dark, but she could just make out his silhouette perched on the edge of the bed.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, and she felt the warm weight of his hand on her leg through the covers. “You were just havin’ a nightmare.”

“I dreamed you were dead,” she whispered back, and she started to cry then. “Oh Shawn…” She reached out and drew him into her arms, holding tight to him as she had in her dream, clinging to his bare chest.

She felt his arms come around her and pat her on the back, but then she heard his voice saying, “It’s Brian, Gretchen… wake up… it’s just Brian…”

The light came on, and she woke up then, really woke up, and found herself in Brian’s arms – or, rather, him in hers. She released him at once and recoiled, still disoriented but quickly becoming aware that she had done something embarrassing in her sleep. He offered her a crooked smile, looking awkward, and she realized he was wearing only a pair of boxers. Looking down at herself, she remembered that she had on just a thin t-shirt, and she quickly pulled the sheet up around herself, feeling self-conscious.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “I’m a real deep sleeper… I had a bad dream…”

“I know.” He smiled sympathetically. “You were screaming. You shouted my name, but then you called me… well… your husband’s name.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized again, feeling her whole body flush with embarrassment. She lowered the covers again, desperate for air. “I dreamed he came here, to the base, only… only he was… one of them.”

“That sounds awful,” said Brian, and she realized he knew just how awful it was because he’d been through something similar, but for real.

“I’m sorry,” she said a third time, at a loss for anything else to say. “Thanks for waking me up.”

“No problem,” he replied, getting up from her bed. “You don’t have to apologize either. It happens. You gonna be alright?”

She nodded, anxious for him to leave, but after he was gone, she left the light on. She was afraid to go back to sleep, afraid to see what she’d seen in her nightmare again. She scooted back against her headboard and brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and there she sat, until the darkness faded to dawn, thinking of Shawn.

I can’t keep doing this, she thought, her head pounding as she fought off sleep. I can’t keep torturing myself, wondering. I need to know. I need to find him.

It was that thought, that resolve, that finally lulled her back to sleep.

***

Later that morning, Gretchen called for a meeting. When the remaining six of them gathered around her kitchen table, she announced, “I want to go back to Atlanta.”

The protests came quickly, as she’d known they would. “No, don’t go!” Gabby cried.

“It’s too dangerous,” Howie added.

“Especially with the others gone. Wait until they get back and let us know what the rest of the country looks like; maybe then you can go.” That was Jo.

“Kevin already told you no.” That was Brian. Gretchen couldn’t help but glare at him, feeling betrayed that he would side with his cousin over her. It was true that she had brought up the idea of going back north to look for Shawn before, and it was also true that the plan had been shot down by Kevin. That was exactly why she was bringing it up again now.

“Kevin’s not her dad. Besides, Kevin’s not even here. If Gretchen wants to go, she’s free to go.” That was AJ, and Gretchen looked over at him with surprise and gratitude.

“Thank you, AJ,” she said. To the others, she explained, “I have to find my husband. I know it’s a long shot, but I have to try. I can’t go on like this. I won’t rest until I at least look.” She paused, seeing the way they exchanged glances, and then she added, “I know you think it’s stupid and dangerous and naïve of me; I don’t expect you to understand. But I do expect you to let me go.”

“I understand,” Howie said quietly. When she looked over at him, he continued, “I only had to drive a few miles, but I would have gone to the ends of the earth to find my son.”

Gretchen felt her throat tighten. It was easy to forget Howie had once been a father. He rarely spoke of his son, but the way he did now, she could tell he did understand how she felt and why she had to go. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Brian looked from Howie to Gretchen, frowning. Finally, he said, “Well, you can’t go alone.”

She raised her eyebrows, her heart doing a little staccato step.

“I’ll go with you.”

She could tell he wasn’t thrilled about the prospect, and she couldn’t blame him. She and Brian had both been through hell in Georgia, but while Atlanta still held hope for her, it held only horrors for Brian. Where she might still find her family, he had lost his forever. She couldn’t make him face his demons just for her sake. “You don’t have to,” she said quickly.

He shook his head. “I’m not gonna let you go by yourself. We came down together; we can go back up together.”

She bit her lip, wanting to smile, but fighting back the impulse. “Are you sure?”

Looking a lot like his cousin, he gave a single, stoic nod. “We’ll leave tomorrow.”

“Why not today?” she blurted, before she could stop herself.

“Because. We need to get some supplies together and make a plan, look at a map, figure out the best route to take. By the time we do all that, it’ll be well into the afternoon, and we want to give ourselves as much daylight as possible to travel in.”

Of course, all this was perfectly logical, so she forced herself to nod. “Okay. So we’ll spend today getting ready, and we’ll leave tomorrow. First thing in the morning.”

Brian smiled tightly. “First thing in the morning,” he agreed.

***

The moon was nearly full again that night. Maybe it was the extra light streaming into her bedroom, or maybe (probably) it was just anxiety over the dangerous journey she was about to embark on, but Gretchen slept badly. She tossed and turned for hours before gradually falling into an uneasy sleep. But when Brian woke her at dawn, she jumped out of bed, wide awake and ready to go.

She had slept maybe two hours, at most, but adrenaline was coursing through her, more potent than caffeine, and she worried if they didn’t leave then, she’d lose her nerve. She brewed a pot of coffee for the road, while Brian added the last of their bags to the back of the same pick-up truck they’d arrived in, which was already loaded with guns, gas cans, and boxes of food and ammo.

Jo and Gabby were still asleep when they left, but AJ and Howie, who had been up all night on guard duty, opened the front gate for them and wished them well.

“Take care of yourselves,” said Howie, giving them each a rare hug.

“You two just better make it back before the other group does, or Kevin’ll skin me alive for letting you go,” growled AJ, before surprising Gretchen by pulling her into a rough hug, too. He clapped Brian on the back. “Don’t become zombie meat.”

“We’ll try not to,” Brian chuckled weakly, as he climbed behind the wheel. Gretchen went around to the passenger side and clambered on up into the cab. She had always loved a road trip, but this one felt like anything but.

As Brian eased the truck on through the gate, her stomach twisted into knots. She heard the gate rattle closed again behind them and shuddered, as she realized she was outside the protection of the base for the first time since they had arrived. Now she wondered if they were making a deadly mistake by leaving again.

She turned in her seat and watched out the back window, as AJ and Howie waved from behind the gate. As much as she prayed she would find Shawn alive at their home in Atlanta, she also prayed they would make it back alive to their new home, at the base in Tampa.

***