Trepidation (14 page)

“I was scheduled for execution, but you—a brother I hadn’t even known—stepped in and selflessly risked everything to save my life. You did everything you could, from taking the antidote from the lab to breaking me out of jail. You risked life, limb, and reputation—your whole future for a sister who hadn’t even been part of your past. When we crashed, I again put your life in danger. I’m so sorry about that, but you loved me, and you quickly proved that you’d do anything to help me. The wonderful thing about it is that you did that without even really knowing me. But we had this connection, this bond. Dean, you’re my brother, and I love you for that. But even more so, I love you because you’ve stuck with me through all of this. You even put up with me when I fought with you, like that little battle we had in the grocery store. We may not always see things the same way, but I know we both have one another’s best interest in mind, and that means everything...

“You’ve never given up on me and even continued to fight for me when I became a zombie. Nothing could stop you. You were determined to find me and risked your life again to go into that deranged city. You almost died in their makeshift arena, and nothing hurts more than knowing it was all because of me...

“...I just wanna tell you that I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Finding you has been the most wonderful thing. I couldn’t ask for a more fantastic brother, and I love you from the bottom of my heart.”

When I finally snapped back to the present, I said, “I need air.”

Nick jumped up and grabbed me. “No! I don’t want you going outside. We’re not in Fairport, and there are too many of those slimy things out there. I won’t lose you too.”

There was no way I could argue with those words, so I decided to stay. Kate sat next to me and held my hand for comfort. I hugged her and closed my eyes, and she just held me.

W
hen I woke up, it was morning.

Dr. Willows was examining Val, taking her vital signs. She smiled. “She’s better! I don’t know how, but I guess she’s a fighter.”

We’d never been so happy.

Tears ran down Kate’s face as she hugged me.

My heart leapt with joy when I saw Val open her eyes. “Val!” I said.

“Dean?” 

I rushed over. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

She touched my face. “Ditto.”

I laughed.

She closed her eyes and fell back to sleep, but it was still a relief to know she was back on the road to recovery.

***

O
ver the next week, Val’s health improved, and we finally said our goodbyes. I was so touched that strangers had actually kept their word and helped us. Dr. Willows had done so much for us, giving us food and shelter and helping Val get better. The doctor wanted us to stay another week but we wanted to get home for Christmas. The thought of Claire spending it alone thinking we had died was too much for any of us to bear. Lucas and Kate offered to go back and tell Max and Claire that we were okay, but we didn’t want to split up. And it was dangerous having Max come back for us. Why take unnecessary risks? Val was well enough to travel an hour and our own doctor back at the apartment complex could take over her care. 

We drove back to Fairport, arriving there just before a blizzard hit, and we told everyone what had happened. Some joked that we should’ve sent Z a dinner invitation from Rita. Claire and Nick shared an emotional reunion, since she had feared that we were dead.

Christmas was the next day, and we wanted it to be special for Val, since it would be our first Christmas with our sister. We chopped down a huge pine tree and decorated it with the ornaments we’d found a few weeks earlier.

When Val woke up on Christmas morning, she gasped. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “I’ll never forget this Christmas as long as I live.”

“You’ve been a pretty good girl,” Nick teased, “so Dean and I got this for you.” He handed her a small package with a red bow.

“Are you trying to make me cry?”

“Just open it,” I said.

She unwrapped the package and fingered the sterling silver pendant. “It’s a necklace.”

“It’s a wolf with an arrow through its mouth,” Nick said.

“It signifies one who has the perseverance to overcome any obstacle or win any battle,” I proudly explained. “We thought it was perfect for you.”

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she hugged me and then Nick. “Thank you, guys.”

We laughed, ate, sang all the old carols we could remember the words to, told stories, exchanged more gifts, and actually enjoyed the most wonderful day of the year. Claire even played some music on a tape recorder we’d found, and it was, truly, a holly, jolly Christmas for us, even when the world was falling apart. 

***

C
hristmas came and went, but I knew that every day we got to spend together was a gift. Until we’d almost lost Val, I’d always taken that for granted and had never really paid too much attention to it. Now, I’d always cherish my friends and family, every single minute. 

I stopped by Apartment 101 to deliver some much-needed medical supplies to Mrs. Jones, who insisted that everyone call her “Grandma.” She was the sweetest old lady and loved to tell stories about her days as an actress and singer on Broadway when she was younger. Mrs. was dressed in a modest, knee-length, floral dress, and her hair was as white as the snow that was falling outside. Even in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, her gaudy jewelry and trademark librarian bun made her stand out like a sore thumb. I set down the supplies and helped her put everything away.

“Your mother would be so proud of you,” she said.

I smiled. “My mom’s a wonderful woman. She made sure Nick and I have...character.”

“And Val too,” she said, her big, blue, twinkling eyes.

“Val didn’t grow up with us.”

She pushed up her glasses. “Really?”

“She was adopted. We only met a couple months ago.”

“Well, you certainly have a very special bond. It seems like you spent your whole childhood together.”

“Yeah, Val’s great. We hit it off right away. I feel like I’ve known her my whole life.”

The sun shone through the cream-colored curtains, and I swore I saw the shape of a hand, a silhouette, coming into view, but then it disappeared. I marked it off as my imagination playing tricks on me.

“Why are you on the first floor?” I asked. “You’d be much safer upstairs.”

“I can’t climb rope ladders at my age. I’d be stuck up there, and I don’t want to be dependent on people bringing me things. Besides, I have a rifle.”

“Why aren’t the windows boarded up?” I asked.

“Because I refuse to let anyone take my sunshine away. Why do you ask?”

“I just...well, I thought I saw something, and it has me all jittery. I just worry about the safety of the folks on the first floor.”

The silhouette came back, and this time, I could clearly see a hand twisting. My heart began to race, and I hoped it was only kids playing a trick on us. When the hand tapped on the window, I walked over and slowly parted the curtains.

In an instant, a zombie with half a face smacked the window with its skeletal hand.

This is no joke,
I thought with a groan.

I
gasped. “Zombie!”

“No,” she said. “You must be mistaken.”

I peeked out past the rotter and saw at least a dozen of them stumbling around.

Mrs. Jones took short steps and shuffled over. “Good heavens!” she said.

“They’ve breached the perimeter!” I said, reaching for my gun. I then turned to Mrs. Jones. “Grandma, you need to get upstairs! I’ll help you.”

“No, Dean! I’m not leaving.”

“Then lock the door and stay put.”

She opened her closet door and reached for her rifle. “Are you kiddin’? We have to warn the others!”

Mrs. Jones’s grandson raced down the hall and looked at me. “Thanks for taking care of her. I’ll look after her now.”

I nodded and sprinted down the hall to the lobby, where a group was frantically loading weapons.

“Dean!” one of the men called. “Can you help us get the ones coming up the hill?” he asked. “Should be pretty easy, since they’re so clumsy and slow, especially comin’ uphill. We got teams in the back and front already.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Ned said. “Let’s go!”

I opened the door, and gunfire erupted. The sickening, salty smell of blood hit me in the face, and I gagged. Some of our people had been torn to pieces, and others were screaming for help as the zombies savagely ripped into them. The wails and screams were horrifying. Pulling my trigger, I fired taking out one that was biting into a man’s face. The loud thunder of gunshots filled the air as we all started firing away, flooded with anger and disgust that they’d broken into our sanctuary. We didn’t stop firing till all of the undead had fallen and dead zombies littered the parking lot.

Michael wept as he pounded the skull of a thin zombie with short, curly red hair. “This is for my sister!” he screamed. “I’m gonna make you pay for taking a great woman away from this world!”

His emotion made me swallow hard. I didn’t know how I would have reacted if a zombie had killed my sister.

He then put two rounds into the zombie’s chest.

His sister took her final breath as fountain-like sprays of blood spurted on the concrete.

Another woman, barely alive, reached out to me. Blood gushed from her gut wound and neck, She gasped, trying to say something.

I moved closer and listened.

“Please tell my childr...tell my kids I love them,” she begged in a helpless whisper.

I bit my lip so hard that I tasted blood. Time seemed to slow down, and my breath grew labored. As Jan’s eyes fluttered shut, I tried to hold it together. Just a few weeks earlier, I’d helped her collect rain water and watched her dance in the rain with her children. Now, she was covered in so much blood that I hardly recognized her.
How did our peaceful, safe apartment building turn into a combat zone?
I wondered.
How did they break through?

More moans made me turn my head to the left. Snapping out of my gaze, I started shooting at other zombies that were squirming and clomping out of the weeds. Bolting ahead, I aimed and fired at a zombie in jeans and a white shirt, one with thick hair and glasses. It fell on its face. Then I shot at another, with bushy, black hair, snapping its jaws. Another in a coat, hat, and gloves, a man with a bushy beard and sunken cheeks, reached for me, snapping his jaws like a hungry piranha. I fired two shots in two seconds, both of which hit the flesh-eater in the head. Black oozed from the bullet wounds in his head, sending him back to the grave forever.

All kinds of thoughts flooded my mind.
Maybe the zombies aren’t repelled anymore, because there’s no way we’ve had this many natural deaths in the Fairport. Something’s wrong, and I’ve gotta find out what it is
. I wasn’t sure how safe it was to stay there, and again I longed four our island and the warm feeling of my mother’s hugs.

“We need to get to the hill,” a woman said. “That’s where they’re coming from.”

“C’mon!” Ned yelled.

Just as I was about to follow them, a moan echoed off to my right, where three more zombies were breaching the perimeter. As one of them slowly spun around, I realized it was missing the back of its head. I focused, let out a breath, and took them all out.

“Dean!” a familiar voice called out.

I spun around, and my eyes widened in shock. “Grandma? What are you doing out here?”

“I can shoot, you know,” she said. “If they’re coming up the hill, I can take them suckers out one by one. I may not be able to move too quick, but I sure can stand in one spot and fire away! My grandson taught me everything I need to know.” She started to shuffle away.

Shouts and yells pierced the air, coming from the woods. A second later, several kids ran out in a panic, with at least five zombies on their butts. 

“Dean!” one yelled. “Help!”

I took careful aim and fired off more shots, till I nailed each and every target chasing the kids. I stood as a buffer in front of the children, who were screaming their heads off and huddling behind me. I glanced in the direction of the building to see if there was a clear path for the kids, but flesh-eaters were coming from all over the place now, like a big swarm of angry bees.

Zombies, covered in dried blood, walked clumsily toward me. I squeezed the trigger and nailed at least five or six of them, but more came from the left and right. My heart was racing, and everything was a blur. Every time I took down a line of them, more came. One of the boys screamed when a zombie grabbed his arm. Just as it began to sink its black teeth into the kid’s flesh, I aimed my rifle and shot it in the face. Gore, brains, and flesh flew all over the children, making them scream even louder.

I opened the door of a nearby car and motioned for the kids to get in. “Lock the doors and stay still!” I ordered.

The youngest was frozen in place, too terrified to move, so I picked him up and handed him to the others, then jumped on top of the car like some kind of Rambo. I aimed and fired, mowing down one zombie after the other. Gunfire rang out from everywhere, and I could hear people firing from the back of the building and by the hill.

A zombie grabbed my ankle and wouldn’t let go. I tried to blow its brains out, only to realize I was entirely out of ammo. Three more pulled on my leg, as if they were in some kind of tug-o-war. I began whacking their skulls with my rifle. A few seconds later, a series of gunshots rang out, and they all dropped to the ground. I glanced up at Grandma, who was grinning and holding her rifle.

“Don’t just stand there with your mouth hanging open,” she said. “Get those kids to safety.”

Without hesitation, I opened the driver’s-side door. Grandma covered us as we zigzagged and jumped over dead bodies, breathing in air that reeked of death and blood. Once we reached the building, I quickly opened the door and ushered all the little ones inside. They were all hysterical, and I tried to calm them down the best I could.

One of the boys hugged me. “Dean, don’t leave us.”