“Life goes on… if you can call this living. I guess we’ve got to, too.”
Brian’s the one who told me that, on one of those first days after the dead rose, when we were stuck in that gas station. We had a lot of time to talk, and that’s how we really got to know each other. He opened up to me about his family. I told him about my miscarriage. We shared in our grief, and I think that’s why we got so close, so quickly. I like everyone on the base, but I’m still closest to Brian, especially now. He understands what I’m feeling better than anyone.
It’s hard being here, knowing that the people I love are never coming home. I try to go on with my life, but it doesn’t even seem like “my life” anymore. Everything has changed. I never thought I’d say this, but I wish I had AJ’s outlook on life. He looks at this as a sort of rebirth, an opportunity to rebuild a better world, a world with a place for him in it. I still look at it as an apocalypse, the end of the world, but I guess even that word has more than one meaning. Some people just think of an apocalypse as a revelation. It’s fitting, in a way. I’ve had a revelation of my own recently. Brian’s right: life goes on, and we’ve got to, too.
At least now I have another reason to live.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Week Thirty
As soon as she woke up that mid-November morning, Gretchen could tell it was going to be a good day. The weather outside her window was beautiful. The temperature was mild, hovering somewhere around seventy. The sun was shining; a warm breeze was blowing. The sky was blue, and the clouds were white. And after months of silence, the birds were finally singing again.
At first, she thought nothing of hearing birds twittering outside her window, but then, suddenly, she was struck by the strangeness of it. Ever since the dead had risen, the animals had been mysteriously absent. It was as if the unnaturalness of the walking dead had thrown the animal kingdom into an upheaval, upsetting the delicate balance of nature and forcing the animals to flee. Just as Spunky had, they must have sensed danger in the air and known, instinctively, to stay away.
Gretchen couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a bird or a rabbit or squirrel or one of those little green lizards Florida used to be famous for. There were hardly even any insects around, though that hadn’t stopped the mosquitoes from buzzing around the swampy parts of the peninsula. Otherwise, the sounds of nature had been silenced. She wasn’t used to hearing birds chirping, frogs croaking, or locusts humming during the day anymore, and at night, there were no crickets to sing her to sleep. Instead, the dissonant moans of distant zombies kept her awake.
But on that morning, she woke and heard birds, right outside her window, and she knew that hope was still alive. It filled her up, warming her from the inside, radiating out of her like the rays of the sun. She dressed quickly and rushed downstairs, heading straight outside. Brian was already up, sitting on the back porch, rocking slowly on the porch swing with his usual cup of coffee in hand. “Mornin’,” he said in his soft, Southern drawl, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled up at her.
“Morning,” she echoed, beaming back. She felt breathless, almost giddy with delight. “Do you hear the birds?”
He pointed, up into a nearby tree, where she saw a pair of robins perched on a high branch. “Where do you reckon they came from?”
She stared up at them in wonder. In the Midwest, where she’d grown up, a robin sighting was one of the first signs of spring. It was strange to think it was almost winter, but it made sense. “North,” she replied. “They flew south for the winter.”
“And they stopped here.” Brian nodded. “Guess they realized it was a safe place.”
Safe... Gretchen hadn’t felt truly safe since spring, but she supposed he was right. The base was safer than anywhere else around. Maybe the birds had been able to sense that, too. They’d landed here, where the scent of the undead wasn’t as strong. She hoped they would stay. They made her feel like maybe, seven months after turning upside down, the world was going to right itself again.
For the first time in a long time, she felt energetic and inspired. It was the perfect day to start a new outdoor project, so while Howie and Gabby took AJ down to work on the wall, Gretchen and Brian decided to get a move on the memorial garden they intended to plant around the wooden crosses they’d put up.
They had already begun working on a vegetable garden, which had proven tougher than Gretchen had anticipated. Though the weather was perfect for growing, the soil was sandy and poor, and they’d started a compost pile from which to fertilize it. Brian had suggested starting with short season winter crops, like radishes, onions, spinach, lettuce, and broccoli. “We’ll be able to make good salads, at least,” Gretchen had laughed, as they looked for seeds in the base’s supply stores and maintenance sheds.
That day, they returned in search of flower bulbs to plant for the following spring. They came back with lilies, dahlias, and amaryllis, which they hoped would bring life and beauty back to the base, blooming around the memorials for those they’d lost to the undead. But the garden plot was in no shape to be planted yet, so they spent the rest of the afternoon digging, weeding, and tilling the soil.
It was hard work, and before long, Gretchen’s back and arms were aching from bending, pulling, and shoveling. Sweat poured down her dirt-streaked face, and her clothes stuck to her skin. Even her hair felt grimy and hot. She longed for a shower, followed by an afternoon nap, and was grateful when Brian finally said, “Let’s take a break.”
Relieved, she followed him to the pick-up truck, and they drove back to the house. “I’m gonna hop in the shower,” Gretchen said, as they went inside. “I feel gross.”
He looked her over, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Aww, at least it’s just dirt – ‘stead of zombie guts.”
She laughed, but later, in the shower, she marveled over the fact that she could laugh at such a thing now. It certainly hadn’t been funny at the time, their first narrow escape from a horde of the undead, during which she had been splattered with blood and intestinal bits from the zombie Brian had impaled with a road sign. She couldn’t forget the horror of having to sit covered in it in the car while they drove around, looking for a safe place to get cleaned up and rest. A shower had never felt so good.
Watching little trails of dirt circle down the drain, she shuddered, remembering the rusty red tinge of the water in that shower. That had been the very day she’d met Brian, she realized, the day of the unholy resurrection of the dead. Sometimes, it seemed like only yesterday, yet it felt like a lifetime ago. In a way, it had been. Gretchen’s life had changed so much in seven months that her old life felt remote, like some distant part of the past. It was as if she were a reincarnation of her old self, rather than the same Gretchen who had once taught school and dreamed of starting a family. She imagined Brian felt the same way.
She stood under the shower, just thinking, far longer than she had intended, then came to her senses and shut the faucet off quickly, feeling wasteful. They were lucky to still have running water and electricity on the base, when nowhere else did, and she knew better than to take these luxuries for granted. If the systems went down before Kevin’s group came back – or if Kevin and the others never did come back, a possibility that was becoming more and more probable each day – she wouldn’t have a clue how to get them working again. She doubted Brian, Howie, or AJ would, either. They had adapted as best they could, but none of them had any real survival skills. That was Kevin’s forte.
Suddenly depressed by the thought of losing their leader, Gretchen trudged out of the bathroom and looked around the master bedroom she shared with Riley. The day they had moved into this house, they had agreed to split the largest room. They’d swapped the queen-size bed for the two twin beds in Brian’s smaller room, giving everyone more space. But Riley’s neatly-made bed had been empty for many weeks. She missed her roommate, the closest friend she’d made on the base, after Brian. Was there any chance she could still be alive?
It’s just like with Shawn, she thought sadly. We’ll go on hoping they’re still alive and on their way home for a few more weeks, maybe even months, until eventually we just give up and accept that they’re never coming back. She knew in her head that this was the path their grief would take, from denial to acceptance, but in her heart, she wasn’t ready to give up hope yet. Not with the robins still singing outside her windows.
But it wasn’t just the robins who were singing. Suddenly, she realized she could hear a human voice singing, too. She paused to listen to the muffled sounds drifting up through the floor vent – running water and, rising over the roar of the shower, Brian’s soulful tenor. Smiling, she wrapped a filmy robe around herself and crept out of the bedroom and down the stairs, amused and eager to listen. Though Brian had a great voice, she hadn’t realized he was a shower singer – but apparently, the robins had inspired him. Standing outside the bathroom door, she giggled silently into her hand when she heard him singing, “He rocks in the tree top all day long, hoppin’ and a-boppin’ and a-singin’ his song… All the little birds on Jaybird Street love to hear the robin go tweet, tweet, tweet… Rockin’ robin – tweet, tweet, tweet! Rockin’ robin – tweet, tweedle-lee-dee! Go rockin’ robin, ‘cause we’re really gonna rock tonight…”
The shower shut off abruptly, which caught Gretchen off-guard. She backed away from the door and scrambled up the stairs, not wanting to be seen eavesdropping, especially in her skimpy robe. But on the top step, her big toe caught, her ankle rolled, and she tripped and fell forward, landing with a large thud on the stairs. It was enough to bring Brian running out of the bathroom, before she could even pick herself up. She had just barely managed to readjust her robe when he appeared at the foot of the stairs, wearing nothing but a towel and a look of concern. “You okay?” he called up to her.
“Yeah,” she replied quickly, feeling her face heat up. She mustered as much dignity as she could and tried to stand up, but her ankle throbbed. “No,” she amended, grimacing. “Maybe not.”
“Not you, too,” he joked as he climbed the stairs, securing his towel with one hand. “We’ve already got one gimp around here. What’d you do?”
“Tripped. Turned my ankle.” She stretched it out in front of her and inspected it from different angles. It looked okay. It wasn’t swelling or turning colors. It would probably be fine in a few minutes. She hoped so, anyway. He was right; they couldn’t afford another injury around the base.
Brian knelt two steps down. “May I?” he asked, and when she nodded, he gently took her foot in his hands. His touch was light as he felt her ankle, but when he moved his thumbs under her arch to support her foot, she squirmed away. “Sorry,” he apologized quickly, “Did I hurt you?”
“No… just ticklish.”
He grinned. “My girls were the same way. Whenever they got a boo-boo, I had to kiss it and make it better.”
She smiled back, her heart melting – and breaking – as she imagined the kind of daddy he must have been to his twin daughters. “I bet you were good at that,” she said.
“You better believe it,” he shot back. His grin was as cheesy as ever, but there was a certain sadness behind it. He tried to hide it by lowering his face to her foot, planting the softest of kisses right over her ankle bone.
She was surprised at the shot of pleasure that rushed through her, as his lips brushed her bare skin. That tickled, too, but in a good way. It felt nice. Maybe there was something to the rumored healing power of his kisses. She wished she could return the favor and kiss away his pain.
“Does that feel better?” Brian asked, and she smiled.
“Much.”
“Let me help you up.” He stood up and reached for her, pulling her to her feet. She swayed unsteadily at first and nearly collided into his chest, throwing her arms around his neck for support until she regained her balance. “Whoa… you okay?” he asked, chuckling, and she realized they were face to face.
“Yeah,” she gasped, breathless. But she wasn’t ready to let go of him yet. His bare shoulders were still wet from the shower, but his skin was warm and smooth. She could feel the muscle rippling underneath it. He smelled like soap. She inhaled, looking into his face, appreciating its finer details – the strength of his jawline and the angular shape of his high cheekbones, the wispy curls of hair around his ears and over his forehead, the gorgeous blue of his eyes, which seemed to twinkle as they gazed back at her. Like a moth drawn to light, she couldn’t look away, and she felt herself leaning in closer, tilting her chin, until her lips connected with his.
The first kiss was light and hesitant, but it was enough to send shockwaves through her body, which suddenly remembered how good it felt to be kissed and craved more. His body seemed to respond the same way, for his arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer, until their hips bumped together. He returned the kiss hungrily, and the second one was so deep, it made her dizzy with delight and lack of oxygen.
He pressed her back into the banister, and they stumbled on the stairs, clinging to each other as their lips locked together. Finally, he lifted her up, her robe hitching higher as his hands slipped on its satiny material, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, as he carried her the few short steps into his bedroom. He lowered her gently onto the bed, and as she lay back, he leaned over her, kissing her lips, her cheeks, and down her neck.
When he reached the part of her that was covered by the robe, he paused and looked up. “Don’t stop,” she begged, giving him the permission he sought to continue. Without a word, he nodded, parting the front of her robe so his lips could continue their trek down her body. She shivered with pleasure as they found the space between her breasts and lingered there awhile. When they started to go lower, she grew self-conscious and raked her fingers through his wavy hair, gently guiding his head back up toward hers. Their lips met again, and she let out a moan of anticipation as she felt the warm weight of his body climb on top of her.
She ran her hands down his bare back until they found the bony edges of his hips. From them, she tore off the towel. As it dropped away from his body, she looked down and saw that he wanted this just as much as she did. Smiling, she threw back her head and arched her back, raising her hips as he lowered himself onto her. Then she closed her eyes and rocked her body along to the rhythm he set, enjoying every last measure of it. She hadn’t experienced such pleasure in seven months, and in the heat of the moment, she had no regrets.
It was only once Brian had rolled off of her and snuggled up beside her that the magnitude of what they’d just done struck Gretchen. It was a gorgeous fall day outside, yet there she was, lying in bed with another man, just seven months after losing her husband. She was suddenly guilt-ridden, not because what they’d done seemed so wrong, but because it felt so right.
Turning her head toward Brian, she asked, “So, does this make us sinners?”
Brian pressed his lips together, seeming to consider the question for a long time before he answered. “We’re guilty of fornication, but not of adultery, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he finally said, rolling over to face her. “We’ve both lost our spouses. But life goes on. You showed me that, Gretchen. You gave me a reason to keep surviving, when everything I loved in the world was gone. And now, I wanna do the same thing for you. I wanna be your reason.”
Touched by his tenderness, she whispered, “You are.” And it was true. For months, she had lived in hope of one day seeing Shawn again; it was that hope and love for her husband which had kept her alive. But she could not deny that, even before she had accepted that Shawn was not coming back, she’d felt an attraction to Brian. He had been there for her since Day One, and when she was with him, she felt protected. He would never leave her, the way Shawn had. It was Brian, not Shawn, who gave her the strength and faith she needed to survive.
Her eyes swam with tears, and as they started to spill over, Brian leaned in and kissed both of her cheeks, wiping the tears away in the process. “I know how you’re feeling,” he murmured, “’cause I’m feeling the same way. But I think God understands. Life is a gift, and He’d want us to make the most of it. And I’m sure Shawn and Leighanne would want the same, don’t you think?”
She smiled; of course, he had known that she cared not about what God thought, but what Shawn would think. Nodding, she replied, “I do.”
He smiled back and took her in his arms, holding her close against his chest. “Then let’s keep living,” he whispered, and kissed her again. Outside the open window, the robins chirped their approval.
