Find Me (Life After the Outbreak, Book 2) (20 page)

Things were very different the last time I was on that street. Will and I had gotten into a huge fight, and he was going to leave with Janet. It was all my fault, of course. I was being childish and stupid. I didn't know how to admit that I loved him, even to myself. As I walked past Zach's house, I slowed even more. It was as if I wasn't quite ready to reach home.

It was amazing how normal everything looked in my old neighborhood. Other than some broken windows and falling shutters, the houses all looked the same. The grass was overgrown, and outdoor chairs and patio furniture was knocked over and tossed around by the wind, but it looked more like the aftermath of a hurricane than what it really was.
 

One thing that was definitely different, however, was the lack of bodies. The last time we went through there was after Will, Janet and Dan took out the horde. There were bodies everywhere, but now, not a single one remained. The undead certainly didn't come along and move them, so it had to mean that someone alive had been through there.
 

It was impossible to know if they were still in the area or hiding in one of the houses. It could have even been one of my old neighbors. It would be hard to say how the last two years may have changed the people I once lived so close to. We shared block parties, played with each other's children, and chatted at the mailboxes. They were people my family would have taken in and trusted with their lives. But that was then.

A lot of my neighbors died in the early days of the outbreak. My father finished off a number of them himself before we locked ourselves away in the basement. I remember the look on his face when he came in, covered in blood and filth, holding the old axe that used to hang in the shed. He didn't talk for a long time except to tell Mom and me to pack everything we needed and head down to the basement.

The neighbors who survived the initial craziness fled. I watched them packing up their cars, some even fighting off flesh eaters as they tied suitcases to the roof. It was utter insanity those first few days. No one knew exactly how bad it was going to be, but everyone knew it would get worse.
 

Once we got into the basement, things settled down, and it was easy to forget what was going on outside. Even after all the time that passed since then, walking down my old street, it was easy to pretend that it was the morning after a bad storm like the one that knocked the power out for over two weeks.
 

I imagined that any minute my neighbors would start coming out of their houses and begin cleaning up. Mr. Jenkins would bring out his chainsaw and start cutting down fallen trees, while Mrs. Finberg baked muffins and passed them around to the men as they helped each other clean up the mess. My neighborhood was like that, always helping each other out and banding together.
 

It wouldn't happen that way anymore, though. Chances were, most, if not all, of my old neighbors were dead, or undead. No one was coming out to help, and the mess wasn't ever getting cleaned up. If anyone did come out, it would probably be to steal or kill whoever they came across.
 

I stopped in the road and looked up at my childhood home. Once a place of safety and happiness, it had become a sad reminder of all I lost. I started to have second thoughts about my plan to go home as I stood there looking at the abandoned white house. My stomach flipped a few times, and my heart thumped against my chest. It wasn't like I had a lot of choices at that point. It was getting dark, and I needed a place to spend the night at the very least.

I took a deep breath, pushed the anxiety down into that place I shoved all the feelings I didn't have the time or strength to deal with, and climbed the stairs to my old house.
 

Home, sweet home
.

Chapter Seventeen

Walking into the basement without Will was one of the most difficult things I’d done in a long time. Part of me almost expected to find him sitting there on the couch, waiting for me, but that was just wishful thinking. I knew deep down there was no way that was going to happen. I was alone again. Janet was dead, and I had no idea where Will was or if he was even still alive.
 

I tried to swallow, but the lump forming in my throat refused to allow it. I was having a hard time getting oxygen to fill my lungs. The world was caving in around me. I couldn't lose Will for good. I had already lost everything else. I forced myself over to the chair and sat, hugging the throw pillow. It smelled of Will and the shampoo he used that was left over from Zach and Jacob, the boys who lived with my family in the early days of the outbreak. Everyone who ever used that shampoo was gone from my life.
 

Tears streamed down my cheeks. Everything was fine before I met Will. I was taking care of myself and managing. Maybe I wasn't doing the best job of it, but I was getting by. It didn't matter than I was alone. I was hardly ever lonely. But things were different. Being alone and lonely didn't even begin to cover how I felt. I couldn't even imagine my life without him anymore.

I took a deep breath. I had to hold it together. What choice did I have? I forced myself to put the pillow down and get up from the chair. Maybe a hot shower would give me a little perspective, or at least make me smell better.
 

The walk down the hallway in the quiet basement was eerie. I took a quick peek into the bedroom that I had shared with so many people that were no longer in my life. Could it have been such a short time ago that I was just a high school student, living with my parents and dreaming of boys and proms? Nothing would ever be the same again.
 

I thought back to the letter I found from my mother, written just after the outbreak began. She told me that one day, things would get better, and I would be able to find happiness. When I read that letter, I wanted to believe it could be true, that happiness was possible. But it wasn't. My thoughts slipped back to their old ways, and all hope left me. Nothing was ever going to change, except maybe to get worse. Everyone I ever cared about was gone, and nothing would ever be right again.

I stepped from the shower and towel dried off. My hair had gotten quite long over the past few months. It was definitely time for a cut. I wrapped the towel around my head, piled it on top of my head to soak up some of the water in my hair, and headed for the bedroom to find some clean clothes.
 

As soon as I opened the door, I knew something was wrong. I'd gotten pretty good at picking up subtle clues of danger since the outbreak began, so even a faint scent in the room was enough to alert me that someone else was there. I quickly pulled the towel from my head and threw on some clothes as fast as humanly possible, then tip toed across the hall, over to my pack on the bed for my gun.
 

There was no way any undead were getting into this basement, so that left someone of the human species, which was always a bigger threat. At least with a zombie, you knew the rules. They wanted to rip you apart and feast on whatever part they could get. People were different. What they wanted from you was not always so easy to discern.
 

I tried to listen for any sounds that would tell me where the intruder was, but heard nothing. Armed with my gun, I inched toward the hallway and quietly made the decision to go toward the back of the bedrooms first to check, leaving the rest of the basement behind me. I couldn't check both ways at once, so the choice had to be made. I only hoped it would be the right one.
 

After checking both bedrooms, peering into closets and under beds, it was apparent that this end of the basement was clear. It was possible that whoever was here left already. It was unlikely, but possible. I carefully closed the bedroom doors and made my way down the other end of the hall toward the living room and kitchen. The scent I picked up on was stronger as I neared the end of the hallway. I took one last deep breath and jumped around the corner, ready for whatever was waiting for me. Or so I thought.
 

Standing in front of me was a very scruffy, yet still very hot, Dan. It took a moment for the realization of who it was to register in my brain. Before I put the face together with what my brain knew, he had me in his arms and was spinning me around.
 

"Sweetheart, you sure are a sight for sore eyes!" He kissed me right on the lips before putting me back down on my feet gently.
 

Oh, how I missed that Irish accent and deep blue eyes.

I shoved the gun into the waistband of my jeans and took a deep breath. My heart gradually slowed down to a more normal rhythm.

"What are you doing here, Dan? I thought you were off looking for your cousin?"

"I was." His smile faded and he looked away, avoiding eye contact. I knew exactly happened from his expression.

"I'm so sorry, Dan," I took his hand into mine and tried to comfort him.
 

"That's life, as I'm sure you know." He looked around, one eyebrow raised. "Where's Will?"

Now it was my turn to look sad.
 
Dan's eyes widened and his mouth inched open as if he was about to say something, but I burst into tears, stopping him. Dan put his arms around me and stroked my hair softly. He didn't try to tell me it was going to be all right or tell me not to cry. He just let me get it out of my system and stayed there to offer what little comfort one could offer in such a situation. Dan was like that, though. He knew exactly how to make me feel better without even saying a word.
 

"What happened, angel? Did you make it to the military base?" he asked after I finally stopped crying into his chest. He put his hands up under his shirt and wiped my face with his shirt to dry my tears.
 

I explained the missions, massive horde, the craziness at the base, and just about everything else that happened since I last saw him. My lips moved nearly as fast as my brain could form the thoughts. I didn't know how he even kept up.

"So he could still be alive?" He tilted his head to the side and tried to smile.
 

"I don't know, Dan. I want to hope he is, but it just doesn't seem likely."

"But, it's possible. Where's Janet? I would have thought she'd be the first to rush out looking for him."

I'd come to love Janet like a sister over the last month, and losing her was just as difficult as losing Will. Dan cared about her as well, and I knew hearing she was dead was going to hurt him too. I had to tell him, but the words didn't want to leave my mouth. Saying them out loud made them more real and I didn't want them to be real.

Dan creased his eyebrows together and lifted my chin to look at him. "Andi?"

"She … did.”

"Did what?" He was confused, and fear crept across his face. He knew what I was about to say.

"She did come to look for him." The tears returned. They were for Janet and Will, and everyone else I lost since the outbreak began.
 

Dan led me over to the couch to sit and pulled my back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and held so hard that it was difficult to take a full breath. At that moment, it was exactly what I needed. I missed the feel of his hard, muscular chest against me and the smell that was so uniquely Dan. In a world where Will never existed, I know I would have fallen madly in love with Dan.
 

"Don't you worry, sweetheart. We are going to find Will. One way or another," he sighed, “we will find him."

He didn't ask about Janet, but I knew he would. We were both emotionally drained and needed the time to process the reality of it all.
 

I wanted to ask Dan about his cousin, find out whether he found him turned or dead, but I could tell he didn't want to talk about it. I understood that feeling. After losing so many people, talking about them just got more and more difficult. After awhile, it was just easier to push it out of your mind.

I woke up a couple hours later and my eyes fought to adjust to the dark and figure out where I was. It was cold and I was alone. I started to wonder if maybe I only dreamed seeing Dan or if I even made it back to the basement at all. In the early days of the outbreak, I used to wake up at night and think the whole thing was a dream. No zombies, or living in a basement, or fighting for our lives. Just a nightmare. I would be able to rub my eyes a few times, take a deep breath, and everything would be fine.
 

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