A Little More Dead (4 page)

Chapter
Six

DAY SEVEN

Paul stood waiting for Sophia outside
the dressing room of another store where he was the only male figure while she
tried on a red negligee she swore would help get her pregnant. A
pretty red
head smiled at him as she restocked the clothing
people left behind in the dressing rooms. Paul smiled back, stealing a look
down her top when she bent over to retrieve a pair of jeans she dropped to the
floor. She smiled again and let him keep the look. He turned away, disgusted
with himself after what happened with Rebecca. It was easy to blame it on a
temporary moment of weakness because it was true, but that didn’t make it
right. It was also easy to scream when someone grabbed him from behind and bit into
his neck. Paul brought down a rack of mini-skirts on his way to the tiled floor,
everything moving in slow-motion. The heavyset mall cop landed on him with all of
his weight, driving the air from Paul’s lungs. The rotting thing in a black
uniform army crawled toward Paul’s face. Jaws snapped. Hands clawed. Blood
flowed.

Paul woke up coughing with his hands wrapped
around the imaginary wrists of a decaying mall cop. When his lungs finally
opened, he drew in a sliver of breath and rubbed the nightmare from his eyes
with both hands, only to open them again to find another one waiting in the
wings.
This one real.
Sophia snuggled up closer to him
under the blanket as daylight bravely crept through the farmhouse windows. He
stared at the back of the couch, heart pounding in his chest. The thought of
Rebecca made him sick to his stomach so he pushed it down and thought about
something else. Exhaling a cold breath, he saw his mother’s bloodshot eyes pop
open and take a newborn look at the ceiling as something else.
Something no longer human.
When those eyes turned to find him
sitting in the rocking chair next to her bed, he wanted to run. These thoughts
would never leave him alone and this morning they were at the front of the line.
Paul could still see the anger wringing her face, smell the decay on her
breath, feel her knock him to the ground. At the time, he had no idea how close
he came to dying. They spent four agonizing days breathing in the smell of her
rot and excrement, and after her merciful death it took less than two hours for
her to return.

Two hours.

At that rate, they’d all be dead within
a matter of days.

The handgun’s kick that sent a single bullet
through her forehead haunted Paul’s right hand. He flexed it in the morning
light. Initially, he thought that gruesome moment would plague him for the rest
of his life – however short it may now be – but so many other atrocities had
already replaced it. He wished he could go back to sleep but, in truth, there
was nowhere to run. They always found him.

“Hey,” Sophia whispered, sending a warm
hand under his coat and rubbing his stomach.

Brushing a loose lock of raven-colored
hair from her cold cheek, Paul studied her almond-shaped eyes, seizing the
moment to admire her natural beauty. Nothing was taken for granted anymore,
especially waking up.
“Morning, sunshine.”

The ghost of a grin tugged at her full
lips. “We’re still alive.”

He kissed those lips, sparking a flash
from the past where they could share a moment without anyone trying to kill them.
“Still alive,” he whispered.

“Did you get any sleep?”

He replied with a shallow nod, guessing
he may have got four whole hours last night.
“You?”

“Some.” Her fingers circled his belly
button like water down a drain. “How far do you think we’ll get today?”

“Not far with the snow.”

She shivered under the blanket. “I can’t
wait to shake this cold weather already.”

“Me too.”

“I like it hot.”

His eyebrows pulled together when her
hand sinuously undid his jeans.

Sophia wet her lips, her green eyes
glittering with heat. “Don’t you like it hot?” she asked, sending a hand
beneath his layers.

“I do,” he replied, voice quivering as
her fingers brushed against his dick.

“I knew it.”

“You’re crazy,” he mouthed, nodding to
the couch.

She spread a playful grin and squeezed.

Paul sat up and peeked over the top of
the couch, glancing at the others sleeping in the middle of the room. Lying
back down, he cupped his wife’s cheek in his hand, breath coming faster as her
hand rose and fell beneath the blanket. “Don’t stop,” he breathed, pressing his
lips to hers.

They kissed hard, like there would be no
tomorrow and for all they knew, there might not. The breath jutting from her
nose was warm against his cheek. Blood rushed in his ears with each pump of her
hand. Paul tried to be quiet when he yanked her jeans down but the layers
beneath made that a difficult prospect. His heartbeat quickened when his fingers
found the wet spot hiding between her legs. Sophia broke their kiss to gasp for
air, pulling on his short brown hair and spreading her legs as he
tuned
her body to his wants and needs.

Paul rolled on top of her and she
inhaled too loudly with his soft invasion. He cupped her mouth and went in deeper,
making her body stiffen. Someone that sounded like Dan coughed, spurring Paul’s
hips into action. It was only a matter of time before somebody looked over the back
of the couch to make sure they were still alive. He bit his lip and held his
breath, her muscles constricting around him. Sophia pushed his hand from her
mouth and arched her back, tensing with the electric current running between
them. Paul went faster and felt her nails dig into his back. Sophia grabbed his
ass and pulled him in deeper, eyes watching his face twist. She was so
beautiful, so warm. He grunted his release, filling her with pulsating bursts
as their bodies curled into one. For a brief moment, time came to a standstill
and their love for each other pushed the horror of their new reality into the
far corners of the room.
It was the only thing they had left.
The only thing they’d taken with them.

The room’s furnishings grew brighter as
they caught their breath. Sophia ran her fingers across his seven day stubble,
grinning from ear to ear. “Now I remember why I like older men.”

He kissed her softly on the lips and
drew back, breathing her in and staring into her eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”

An easy smile shaped her lips. “I wish
we were in our own bed.”

“Me too,
hotstuff
.”

“We’d spend the entire day in bed
watching Netflix and eating popcorn and Junior Mints.”

Paul exhaled a forlorn breath and kissed
her on the forehead, so she wouldn’t see the sadness creeping into his eyes.
Those days were as dead as everything else and it made him want to cry. “What I
wouldn’t give to spend all day with you in bed,” he said, rolling onto his back
to find Mike and Matt peeking over the back of the couch. Paul’s face fell. “Jesus
Christ,” he said curtly.

Sophia shrieked and pulled the blanket
over her head, leaving Paul alone in the light.

“What’re you guys doing?”

Mike furrowed his brow as he thought it
over. “Were you guys wrestling?”

“No, we weren’t wrestling!”

“It sounded like you were hurting her,”
Matt whispered.

“I wasn’t hurting her. She’s fine.”

Mike’s eyes flickered to the lump lying next
to him. “She’s not moving.”

Paul elbowed Sophia in the side, making
her giggle. “See? She moves.”

Mike nodded. “Cool. Hey, do we get guns
today?”

Chapter
Seven

The early morning sun was a welcome
invasion. The SUV’s heater worked fine but the sunshine was nice, giving the
false impression it was just another pretty day in the heartland. The fresh
powder slowed their speed but did little to dismay the SUV’s four-wheel drive. Paul
couldn’t stop a slight grin from playing on his lips. After a bit of hedging
last summer, he decided to spring for the
Trailhawk
package
even though Sophia thought it was a waste of money. It wasn’t. Not in this
snow. Pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, he gave it more gas and
scanned the sparkling landscape ahead. Interstate 35 was eerily clear of
vehicles in either direction, lulling the group into a somber trance. They
passed an abandoned car or truck every few miles but nothing blocked the road.
Nothing moved. It was quiet. He took a drink of Folgers made with cold water
back at the house. Every hill they crested, Paul expected to find a police blockade
or a makeshift military base or a FEMA tent or
something
waiting on the other side, but they never did and the
whole thing left as bad a taste in his mouth as the shitty-ass coffee.

Unless everyone was hiding, they could
be talking human extermination. In the past two days, they’d seen three people
– the three riding in the back with Dan. Instead of a mass exodus of vehicles,
snow blew across the lonely roadway in skittering lines. The nationwide travel
ban did little to stop the spread but, for the most part, kept the interstates wide
open. Everything happened so fast there hadn’t been time for much else. No
quarantines or tornado sirens or presidential PSAs and Paul figured that when
people started getting sick they called into work and, ultimately, became entombed
in their own homes. Some, like Paul and Sophia, broke the travel ban and got the
hell out of Dodge before it was too late.

Snow crunched beneath the tires. Dead trees
and white fields rushed past on both sides of the road. Houses and buildings
sat with no signs of life, each one quieter than the one before it. Every now
and then, something minor would catch Paul’s eye that didn’t quite sit right: A
car door hanging open with no one around, an orange snowplow parked in the
middle of the road, a spilt basket of laundry outside a
laundromat
– small things that poured salt onto the wound nonetheless.

They crossed the state line into
Missouri and a triumphant feeling surged through Paul’s veins, filling him with
hope. Considering the snowfall, they were making good time. He looked into the
rear-view mirror at the others stuffed in the back. Matt sat between Dan and
Carla in the backseat while Mike rode with their gear in the back end. Paul
turned to Sophia in the passenger seat, keeping the Jeep at a cool thirty-five
miles per hour. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. The morning sun
drenched her olive skin that never burned, even on the hottest of days. She was
beautiful and he loved her more than anything in the world, which is why he
worried about her the most.

She flashed him a quick smile. “I love
you,” she mouthed over the Black Keys.

Paul kissed her hand. “I love you.”

“I would love to take a leak!”

Paul looked at Dan in the rearview
mirror, eyebrows dipping. “Grab an empty water bottle and make a trucker bomb.”

Mike and Matt groaned their disgust
before morphing into a slow moving laugh while Sophia peered at Paul over the
top of her sunglasses.

“Don’t be gross,” she said, pushing her
shades back up.

“Mom?”
Matt said in a
high voice. “What’s a trucker bomb?”

“Never mind,
Peanut
.”

Mike laughed. “It’s when you pee in a
bottle, kid!”

“You’re a kid!”

Carla chuckled, shaking her head at Paul
in the mirror.

They could be loud now as the Jeep
rolled down the interstate with Dan’s iPod plugged into the deck. Paul jerked
forward when the vehicle slammed into a deer that came sprinting from the tree
line. Blood sprayed the windshield, blocking his view. He fought the wheel for
control, everyone falling deathly silent as the SUV fishtailed through the
milky powder. The brake pedal clicked beneath his boot, doing little to slow
their speed. The rear end swung out to the right and slid back hard left, sending
the vehicle careening into the right hand ditch. A booming crunch filled their
ears as the front end plowed up a mountain of snow and earth, snapping them to
a shuddering halt at an awkward angle. The engine sputtered and died. Time froze
as they caught their breath in the thunderstruck silence that followed.

Paul turned to Sophia, hands still glued
to the wheel. “Are you okay?”

She looked down and watched her chest
undulate beneath her coat. “I think so. Are you?”

Releasing his seatbelt, he twisted
around to face the others in back. “Is everyone alright?”

“Holy shit.”
Dan looked up
from his lap, face drawn and white as a ghost. “I just
peed
my pants.”

Matt wrinkled his nose and scooted
closer to his mom.