20. Chapter 20
Chapter twenty
Shelby
The interior of the funeral home is not cozy but I’m not about to complain and turning away from the cross on the wall, I move my gaze over the benches before landing on Zoey standing by the door with her sister.
I may be over the Nate shit but that doesn’t mean we’re going to be besties and since I feel itchy from head to toe, I avoid his presence by joining the girls before gesturing down the hall.
Bean’s little nails click on the floor as she follows and with a silent sigh, I lead the way to the bathroom. Once we’re as clean as we’re going to get, I plan to take advantage of one of the pews because despite the nap I took in the truck, my feet are still dragging.
Although the space allows for a good number of mourners the layout is more functional than artistic. We passed an office and the bathrooms when we entered, beyond which was the entry into the main area and a small kitchen beyond.
I heard what Elaine said about the other door, and I have zero intention of going down there. I’ve racked up enough nightmares to last a lifetime. Why needlessly search for more?
To my dismay, when Cason tried the light switch before nothing happened. If the power is gone, what will follow?
I’m too damn tired to worry about it now and with the door propped there’s enough light to comfortably wash our hands and faces.
Amanda follows us into the bathroom, still not quite trusting, which I don’t blame her for. I don’t think one day in the apocalypse makes for the best of bedfellows.
I wish I could jump into the sink and scrub down but that’s not exactly an option, so I settle for wetting my hair and soaping it up with water.
Despite the meager accommodations, the fresh water feels divine, and I relax into the simple chore while the girls clean up beside me.
Meanwhile Bean dances at my feet and I pat her wiggly bottom before lifting her to the counter so she can slurp from the faucet once we’re done. I need to hunt down a bowl or something else appropriate to give poor Bo when he returns with the rest of our group.
I’m still uneasy about separating from Cason but maybe this is my chance to see if I have what it takes to go it alone. This world is so precarious, the odds are that some of our people, including Cason, may not return, which doesn’t fill me with much hope for my own survival.
While I sense that Cason doesn’t much like leading our group, I know to my bones that I can’t afford the same luxury. I just hope he doesn’t decide not to come back at all.
When we emerge, Elaine produces a handful of snacks that were stored in the back office. Although she still avoids eye contact, so far, she’s been nothing but helpful which allows me to relax my guard.
After nudging Zoey forward, she selects a granola bar and chocolate cream pie with a shy grin. Once I’ve picked my own chocolate bar and pastry, I point at Bean and say, “Elaine? Is there somewhere that I can get a bowl for water?”
As though she knows we’re talking about her, Bean cocks her head and spins in a circle. When Zoey hides a giggle behind her hand I meet Amanda’s gaze with a wink, my chest warm to find her smiling after all the shit that went down earlier.
“We used to feed the stray cats who came around,” Elaine says, waving toward the hall. “It’s not much but maybe they can eat the food, too?”
At this point, I don’t think either dog is going to be picky and after setting out a bowl of water and some food, Bean proceeds to chow down.
This is when fatigue sets in and I situate myself on a bench before tearing greedily into the sugary food. I’m not normally a huge fan of chocolate but right now, it tastes like ambrosia on my tongue and only when my tummy stops rumbling do I ask, “What happened to the staff here?”
My heart sinks at my thoughtless question when Elaine drops her head, covering her quivering lips. I can’t help but wonder though if everyone else is dead. There has to be more survivors. Do we want to find those people though?
“When it first happened,” she whispers, “we set up a tent. You know, to help the people who couldn’t reach a hospital, but it all fell apart so quickly. Now, well they’re at the club with the rest.”
“That’s terrible,” I mumble because what else can I say? It’s times like these that bring out the best in people and for them to end up succumbing just makes the situation more tragic.
However, I also know that some people don’t change, and this inspires me to search out Nate who’s sitting in the first pew staring at the depiction of Jesus hanging from the cross.
He’s been strangely quiet since the rest of our group left, not that I’m complaining. With any luck, he’ll stop with the nonsense and start helping the situation instead of hindering it.
Turning back to the girls and Elaine, I muster a smile before brushing Zoey’s hair off her forehead and asking, “Are you still hungry, sweetie?”
She shakes her head and stifles a yawn, a girl after my own heart because my eyelids keep drooping.
After situating her on the pew in front of mine, I lay down on the bench. Elaine’s whispered words follow me into sleep where I dream of rows and rows of dying people who slowly turn into monsters.
At some point, a sharp noise rouses me, but I nod off again, while Amanda says, “I did, I loved it, but my coach told me . . . "
What follows is a cascade of dreams that keep me from true sleep as they flutter behind my eyes.
“You always were a useless cunt.”
My toes curl against the cool wood floor.
“What did he say? Huh? Does he want to fuck you?”
“No!” I want to cry but the words are trapped on my swollen tongue.
“Did you touch him? Kiss him? Fuck him?”
His cruel words burn but it’s the crackle and pop of his knuckles that skates over my skin like ice.
“Did he make you scream?” he spits.
It’s always the first shot that takes me by surprise as though we haven’t done this a thousand times before.
This is when the hope shrivels that much more and my soul aches to just end this once and for all. I’m so tired . . .
“I asked you a question, bitch!”
The second punch sends me back a step, but I don’t fall. Perhaps it’s madness that keeps me standing but I know it doesn’t matter. By the time he’s done, I will be on my hands and knees.
Will he follow this time? Beg for forgiveness?
“I’ll never let you go. I’ll see you in hell, Shelby.”
Of course, he will. That’s his love song after all. Strangely I don’t doubt it because somehow despite everything here we still stand.
He wants to hurt me, and I don’t have the strength to fight back.
Cason
The nearest grocery store is two miles from the funeral home. On a normal day, that’s not a great trek but today it feels like an insurmountable distance, especially knowing that I left Shelby and the girls behind.
This is why I’m determined to get in and out as quickly as possible without risking lives, although it feels as though every step we take comes with its own danger.
The roads between are thankfully clear but as soon as we pull into the lot, my stomach sinks because it’s full of cars left in their eternal resting place. With that many vehicles, we’re guaranteed to run into quite a few undead in the shadowy store.
“Fuck,” Nora mutters, echoing my thoughts.
From the back, Larry taps the window and my gaze slides to Jason, his brows furrowed as he takes in the scene.
A few of them roam between the cars but unless something monumental inspired the fuckers to exit the store, the odds are they remain inside.
Since he’s the newest addition to our group, I can’t place my trust in Jason’s hands, but I also know it would be unfair to send him off with Nora, Lance or Larry. It would be faster to split up but without knowing what we’re facing, it’s exponentially more dangerous to handle as a duo.
After we’ve all exited the truck, we spread out around the hood. My mood further sours when I spy the shadows beyond the glass doors, confirming all is not quiet within.
“Where’s the next nearest store?” I ask. Although I’d rather not go any farther, I also know this group is not equipped to take on possibly hundreds of those things in the fucking dark, no less.
Scratching his head, Jason says, “Next grocery store is maybe five miles that way.”
I turn that direction, watching the tendrils of smoke blanketing the sky before shaking my head and asking, “What about a convenience store?”
“Down the block,” he says, pointing behind him.
When I glance at Nora she nods and after Larry slaps me on the back, I grit my teeth. I know it’s a friendly gesture but I’m fucking tired and uneasy about splitting up.
Since we’re all in agreement we load back up and drive the block over. This mini-mart sits on the corner between two streets beyond which are residential neighborhoods.
Although I can’t see any of them, I hear the low drone of their moans or whatever the fuck they do from here and it never fails to send a chill through me.
Thankfully, the store is empty for one lone undead bouncing aimlessly against the glass doors. When they’re like this it defies logic that they could be so deadly, but I guess it’s not their intelligence but sheer numbers and insatiable appetite that make them dangerous.
By silent agreement, Larry opens the door, and I clock the undead fucker on its head before finishing the job once it’s flailing on the ground.
My skin crawls when its fluids transfer to my weapon and therefore my fingers, but I figure by now if I had any open wounds, I’d have succumbed a long time ago.
After Nora and Jason step over the body, I drag it to the curb. When Larry follows, I turn to Lance and say, “Stay here. Keep watch.”
He nods uneasily and I silently sigh as I step inside. Lance is still an unknown and judging by his youth and skittish behavior, staying by the door is the best bet.
Bo, who’s been observing our antics from my side, disappears down a darkened aisle while I assess the situation. The power is out, leaving a faintly fruity smell in the air as things decompose and I turn to the undead dead fucker lying on the curb before shaking my head.
If the majority of the world perished, how long would it take for the smell to permeate the air? Is it safe to breathe it in? Since there’s not much I can do about it, I shrug it off and make my way toward the back of the building.
So far, it doesn’t appear that this store has been picked over. It’ll be easier to load the truck with the stuff still in boxes and I’m hoping there are some things still packaged up that we can easily transfer.
Since we weren't exactly quiet, I assume the back is free of those fuckers, which is confirmed when I step beyond the swinging doors.
The layout leaves little to search thank fuck and I’m back at the doors when Larry stops beside me.
“Let’s move the truck to the back,” I say and he agrees with a grunt before heading to the truck still parked at the entrance.
Water is a priority, and I heft several cases to the bed of the truck before following with sports drinks. Larry adds boxes of packaged food such as macaroni and cheese while Nora packs up batteries, toiletries and souvenir T-shirts.
When Jason emerges with cartons of cigarettes, I raise a brow, but he merely shrugs and says, “We can trade ‘em.”
The notion sends me back a step before I realize this is our future. When we can no longer scavenge for food and supplies, bartering and growing our own food will be next.
With each minute that passes my unease grows and I’m ready to take off as soon as we've loaded as much as we can without sacrificing space for bodies.
Once we’re back in the truck, I drive around the side of the building before letting off the gas. Beside me, Jason stiffens as a truck rolls by and we eye the two guys standing in the bed holding high powered rifles.
The man in the passenger seat, wearing a ball cap obscuring his eyes, tips his head while the driver says something we obviously can’t hear.
With my fingers tight around the wheel, I pray they keep going because we don’t have the firepower to fight back, reminding me that finding more weapons and ammunition is a priority.
Although I don’t sense friendly vibes, they keep going to my relief but my spine tingles when one of the men at the rear studies the truck until they’re out of sight.
When I glance in the mirror, Larry raises his brows and I shake my head before asking, “Is there a different road back?”
After Jason points the way, I ease into the street, on high alert for the men to return. Now that I know we’re not alone, the urge to rush back to the funeral home cascades through me before I temper it.
We can’t afford to lead anyone back to our temporary shelter and making stupid choices in haste could mean we don’t make it back at all.
It’s only after a few miles that I force my muscles to relax and ask, “You from around here?”
“Naw,” Jason says, rolling his shoulders. “Came down from Portland to see my bro, ya know?”
He shakes his head at that, and I drop the subject. I understand the need to shy away from the past. I have zero desire to share my own story.
“You see anything?” I ask.
Jason shakes his head before saying, “Maybe we should park the truck somewhere it can’t be seen. Don’t want anybody taking shit, yeah?”
Surveying the area, I agree and take the next right as he leads me down a bisecting street before pointing down the road. This will also lead the men to the wrong door if they happen to spot our truck which protects the women we left behind if something should happen.
“There’s a couple of houses down this way with carports,” Jason says. “Maybe park it there?”
On the one hand, I’d rather tuck it into a garage but that means more of the unknown and I’m itching to get back to the funeral home to make sure everything is alright.
Thankfully nothing stirs as I ease beneath the carport where once again, I marvel at how quiet the street is considering the state of our world. I’m not about to complain as we exit into the darkening sky though.
“What are you thinking?” Nora says.
Eyeing the road, I say, “I don’t know. We avoid them and hopefully they do the same.”
“Yeah,” she mumbles before Jason steps out from the front of the truck with a tarp in hand. We work silently by agreement, but I can’t help my sharp movements because we’re taking too much time.
It’s only as we walk down the next street that I feel a peculiar chill and pause as the faint buzzing of them becomes eerily louder.
Glancing at Nora, I note her furrowed brows before an object appears between two parked cars and I spy the source of the buzzing sound. A young man on an electric bike approaches. Through the visor of his helmet, I meet his wide eyes before the horde hot on his tail emerges behind him.