Learning To Live (Zombie Overload Series) (2 page)

As
I'm tossing the last bag back inside the truck, I hear a phone ring.
I stop for a moment and look around, wondering where the hell it's
coming from. Then I realize it's inside this very vehicle and my
first thought is,
WILL
!

I
run around to the passenger door and pull out Will's cell. But the
name that shows is Bianca's, a teacher from the same school Will
worked at, and also a very good friend of ours. Disappointment and
irritation rush through me, but I push it back, reminding myself it's
not Bianca's fault.

"Hello?"

"Canada,
can I talk to Will?" She asks in a rushed, frantic voice.

"Bianca,
he...he's gone. What's wrong?"

"He's
gone? As in
dead
? Oh my God, Canada! I'm so sorry!"
Bianca lets out a sob, "I need help. I couldn’t stay alone
at home anymore. There are too many of these things. I got out of
there, and I'm near Springfield now, but I have nowhere to go. Then I
thought of you guys. Are you at home? Are you staying there?"

"No,
Bianca. We left a couple days ago. We're in Missouri now. You're
welcome to join us. Let me take the phone to my dad so he can tell
you the route we had to take and you can try it. A lot of roads are
blocked. One sec." I'm in the house by this time and explain to
Dad what's going on. I ask him to instruct her how to get here and he
takes the phone.

I
make my way through all the kids and toys and enter the bathroom,
shutting and locking the door. I stare at the face looking back at
me, unrecognizable with all the bruises, cuts, and scrapes. I'm
different from the woman I was just a few days ago. I had always
fantasized what I would do if zombies should become real and try to
destroy the world, but I never really expected it to happen.

I'm
still alive, but things aren't going the way I had always planned it
would. I never expected to lose someone important to me-someone I
love so much, but after only a few days into this mess, I lost one of
the
most
important people to me.

I
want my husband back! I don't want to lose anyone else. I
can't
lose anyone else!

As
for feeling guilty over hurting Will, deliberately or not, I do feel
guilty. I feel
so
damn guilty. And it's guilt that will live
with me for the rest of my life, however short or long that may be.

Sighing,
I turn from the mirror and undress. Stepping under the almost too hot
shower, I let the water wash all the dirt away. It always seems, to
me anyway, that the shower is the place where your thoughts come out
and you can't put them away. Your mind is going to replay everything
it possibly can, bring up all the things that are causing you hell.
It brought Will to the front and replayed all the times we spent
together, with and without the boys. All the laughter, hugs, kisses,
tears, arguments, fights, and our most private intimate times. The
pain the memories bring are excruciating!

Sobbing
hard, I lean forward with my hands on the shower wall. I drop my
head, close my eyes, and just let the pain take over. I cry for him.
Us. The boys. I cry with shame and disgust at myself. I cry because I
know I have to "get over" losing Will, my husband, my best
friend. I have to do it for my boys. I have to do it to survive and
keep them alive.
Somehow.

Finally,
the sobs cease and I finish washing up. Getting out of the shower, I
dry off, dress, and again stand in front of the mirror. Clearing my
mind and going on autopilot, I pull out my toothbrush and toothpaste,
brush my teeth, put on deodorant, and brush my hair.

Oh...my...GOD!

The
torture of the brush pulling the hair on my way-too-sensitive head
sends waves of pain through me, making my eyes roll into the back of
my head and causing me to sway a bit unsteadily on my feet.
So
much for clearing my mind!
Now it's filled with every swear word
I ever heard and even a dozen I just made up!

When
my vision clears and my balance returns, I put some antibacterial
cream and bandages on the worst of my wounds. Finally, I leave my
hideaway and return to the chaos.

I
walk over to Dad, who is off the phone and back to making plans. He
informs me that Bianca was heading this way and would check in every
two hours "unless she hits a dead zone and her phone won't work.
There's a couple of 'em between here and there."

You
don't say! Dead zones?
What
isn't
a dead zone now?

My
mouth twitches. I bite my lip and then cough to cover up the laugh. I
slide Will's phone into the back pocket of my jeans, and then pull my
own phone out of the opposite pocket and check it.
Nothing.
I
sit at the table across from the men and listen to their plans. They
all sound good and reasonable to me.

I
look around Rose's home and, although it's a big home, it's still not
big enough for all of us for very long. Short-term, most of us can
sleep on the floor, but long-term, we will have to figure out
something else. I mention it to the guys and they snap at me because,
apparently, that isn't a "priority".

Sorry!
I didn't realize that
ten-page
paper you've already made is
only
for priorities. And you're both going to be putting my
suggestion at the
top
of your priorities when I have an
episode of bipolar rage and you are stuck in this house with me.

But
we all know the real reason they snapped at me, now don't we?
I
thought of something they hadn't and it pissed them off. They are
men
. Women should never have ideas and they should never,
ever
, be good ones. Ten minutes later, they are discussing
building housing as if they'd thought of it themselves. I shake my
head and roll my eyes.
MEN!

Leaving
the table, I go outside to the large porch that wraps around the
front half of the house and take a seat on an old rocking chair.
Crossing my arms against the chill, I look out over the front part of
Rose and Kurt's property. It's a good half mile from the bottom of
their porch step to the front gate leading to the old dirt road.
Trees canopy the driveway on both sides and dot the area all the way
to the front fenced boundary.

On
the left side of the house is a fairly decent-sized pond, which Kurt
keeps stocked with edible fish. To the right is a large garden. The
only thing left this late in the year, as far as I can tell, are the
pumpkins. Rising from the chair, I walk around the porch to the side
steps and go down them. Then I make my way to the back of the house.
Moving to the small back porch steps, I sit and look out over the
back of the property.

The
first thing that catches my eye-
how could it not
-is a huge
barn that, last I knew, housed a few milk cows. The rest of the barn
Kurt uses as a garage and storage. Beside the barn is a chicken coop
with at least a dozen chickens and one rooster. I see the goat in its
own pen behind and to the right of the coop.

I
smile, thinking about all the phone calls and texts I received from
my very irritated sister over the things that goat has done. They
also have a pen with a couple pigs and next to that are a few fruit
trees. Aside from all that, the rest of the property is woods and
clearings. From the back of their house to the end of their property
is about a mile. Plenty of room. All in all, this is the best place
for us to stay and make a new life for ourselves. It'll be a lot of
hard work, but we can do it.

I
notice movement to my right and quickly turn to see what it is. I
smile as my sister, Rose, walks over to me.

"Hey.
How you doin'?" she asks, sitting on the step beside me.

"I'm
alright. Trying to keep it together and keep my kids alive, but I’d
really rather not talk about...anything else. I just want to pretend
it's all ok. I know that's wrong, but I really need to do that right
now."

Rose
nods, letting me know she understands.

"So
where's Dad?" I ask her, not having to specify which dad-since
Dad Ben came here with me, I obviously know that he's in the house.

"In
the house."

Have
I ever said my sister is incredibly smart but has very little common
sense? No? Well, exhibit A.

"Ok.
Thanks. And do you know where Dad Rex is?"

"I
just talked to him a couple minutes ago. He's being stubborn and
wanting to stay with his business. I guess he plans to stay in his
apartment over the shop. He's by himself, though. I wish he'd just
come here. He did say he would call if he needs to leave. I just hope
it's not too late for him to get here or us to help him get out."

"I
can't believe how stubborn that man is!" I exclaim.

My
sister looks at me from the corner of her eye.

"What?"
I ask her.

"Nothin'."

Oh,
I get it-she thinks I'm as stubborn as he is, huh? I'm not. I'm
not
!
Ok, maybe I am.

"So,
anyway..." I encourage a change of subject.

"So
the guys have decided they are going to turn half of the lower and
all of the top floor of the barn into apartments. I made sure to tell
them to get yours and the boys done as soon as possible, but I also
told them to hurry up and get that damn crazy-ass bitch out of my
house." Rose rarely is this animated and nasty about anyone.

I
look at her and can't help but laugh.

"I
assume you mean Sara. What's the matter with her? I found her to be
most delightful!" I tease her.

Rose
rolls her eyes, "Yeah, I heard she almost put a bullet in your
head. We all heard about that. Miss Popular, she isn't! Our brothers
keep giving her dirty looks. Our sisters-in-law are doing their best
to make her feel unwelcome. She could be shot. It could be fun."

I
laugh. "What would I do without my family?"

"You'd
be curled up in a ball in the corner of a dark room, crying for your
mommy."

Bite
me, little sister!

Rose
and I walk around the back of the property, checking the fence,
making sure it's still secure. As we walk, we catch up on each others
lives. Mine-until recently-not very interesting. Hers-way too busy.
It felt good being able to talk to her about absolutely nothing
important, nothing serious. Even though we know that life has just
become the mother of all seriousness, we can pretend for a few
minutes that this is just another family get-together.

We
come to a heavily wooded area of the property and I hear feet
shuffling in the scattered fall leaves. I grab Rose and cover her
mouth, pulling her behind a fat tree. Her eyes are wide with terror.
This is the same girl who freaks out over little bitty mice and
avoids scary movies like the plague, so this whole thing has to be
pure hell for her. Kind of like if I were to be locked in a room full
of spiders.
EEK! Shoot me, please!

She
stays quiet though, and I push her gently against the tree, motioning
for her to stay there. She nods, but as I turn to sneak back around
the tree, she grabs and tugs on my shirtsleeve-shaking her head
furiously. I grin at her.
She's gotta be kidding!

Apparently,
she has no idea what I've been through already if she thinks one
decaying zombie can kick my ass. I jerk my shirt out of her grasp and
she attempts to follow and stop me. Until she hears a moan, that is.
Then she flattens against that tree hard enough that I wonder if I
will see a Rose-sized imprint in the poor thing.

I
shake my head, grinning at her. Turning my attention back to the
zombie, I slowly creep toward the next tree. Looking around the
trunk, I see him. Big fat guy with a bald head, wearing pajama
bottoms and black dress socks, no shirt.
What's with the dress
socks, Dude? Really?

I
look at his face and see patches of skin missing. His forehead has a
flap of skin hanging down over his nose. On his right arm is the bite
mark that probably ended his life and began his journey as a walking
corpse.

He
stumbles over a fallen limb and almost goes down. Other limbs that
are still firmly attached to their trees whack him in the face, but
he pays them no mind. I start to move out from behind the tree when
he's about twenty feet from me, but jerk back in a hurry. I saw way
more than just him back there! With the very quick peek I'd had, I'd
say at least a dozen. There is no way I can take down that many
alone.
We have to get the hell outta here!