Love Charms (26 page)

Clamping
my eyes shut, too scared to look, I pulled.  Hard.  Harder than I ever thought
I'd pulled anything before.

Evan's
shoulder popped; I felt it.  My eyes opened, shocked, and I gasped aloud.  I'd
meant to help him but I'd hurt him even more.  I couldn't bear to look, didn't
want to see the others descend upon him in bloodthirsty panic.  And yet I
didn't want to never see him again, either.  I wanted to hold his hand and feel
his warmth.  I wanted him to touch my cheek and smile at me and talk to me as
if I was just a regular person again.

I
wanted it so badly it hurt.  Unlike physical pain, this pain wasn't dulled.

Dumbfounded,
scared and panicked, eyes wide and fearful, I watched as Evan scrambled up the
tree easily  and leaped onto the top of the wall.  He sat down next to me, legs
dangling over the sides, while the others below us tried to grab his feet.

"Whew!"
he said.  "That was close."

"What
happened?" I asked, staring at him.  I didn't understand any of this.

"Oh. 
Thanks for that.  I must have kind of popped my shoulder out of place a little
when I caught you before.  Nothing too bad, just really painful if you don't
let it fix itself.  I could have done it if I had some time, but, you
know?"  He offered a curt nod to the ground and the others snatching for
his boots.  "Your way was much quicker."

"Oh,"
I said.  "You're welcome."

Evan
grabbed his crossbow and quiver and strapped them to his back again, then
twisted around and jumped off the wall into the alleyway below.  Standing
patiently and waiting for me, he held out his arms as if to catch me.

"I'm
not letting you catch me," I said.

He
laughed.  "That might be for the best."

I
jumped fine and landed beside him.

"Do
you have a place to stay?" he asked.

I
blinked at him, eyes hazy.  "What do you mean?"

"I
don't actually know how that works.  I assume you go somewhere for the night,
though?  Or just whenever?  I'm not sure.  Do you have a home or, uh... do you
wander around the city?"

"Oh,"
I said.  "Yes.  There's a house outside the city in the forest.  It's off
a side road.  I usually go there.  It's not too far away and it's quiet and
nice.  I..."  I paused because I didn't want to say this to him, but I
knew I had to.  "I should go now, then.  It was nice meeting--"

He
stopped me.  "I'll walk you home."  Taking my hand in his, offering
me his warmth once more, he smiled.  "It's the least I can do,
right?"

* * *

After
sneaking through the city and leaving by way of one of the back roads, Evan and
I walked easily the rest of the way to my home.  My home, I thought.  I was
going to show it to him, but I hadn't expected to ever show it to anyone.

It
wasn't truly mine, either.  I'd claimed it, as it was, though who knew if the
previous owners cared too much.  I hadn't seen them--or anyone--in the few
months that I'd stayed there.

The
driveway was long and winding; hardpacked dirt surrounded on either side by
trees.  At the end, in a clearing, was the house and the yard.  Whoever lived
here before probably liked their privacy, and I liked mine, too.  I never
really went into the yard, but it was nice, with a fenced in section in the
back and a more open space in the front and sides.  A big place, but not in the
grand scheme of things.  Just a small cutaway section in the middle of nowhere,
nothing that would ever really catch someone's eye.

Or
so I thought.

"Wow,"
Evan said.  We walked side by side, holding hands, arms swaying back and
forth.  "How did you find this place?  Was it yours before?"

"No,"
I said.  "They abandoned it.  I don't remember how I found it."

"You
don't remember?"

Halfway
down the driveway, only a little more to go.  I thought maybe I should've
ignored his question and changed the subject, but the words came out of my
mouth, unbidden.

"I
think it's this way for everyone," I said.  "Everyone like me; the
zombies.  We get lost.  I don't know how to explain it besides that.  Almost
all the time I feel lost and alone and confused, like I should be going
somewhere, but I don't know where to go.  I wander a lot because of that.  Just
kind of in a daze, you know?  I walked out of the city one day into the woods
and then I ended up here."

We
reached the end of the driveway, walking the last few steps in silence.  I
started to head for the stairs up a tiny hill that led to the front porch and
door, but Evan stopped me.  Pulling me back to him, squeezing my hand, he
said.  "You're not a zombie, Sadie."

"I
know you're trying to act kind," I said, taking my hand away; feeling sad
when he let me go.  "I am, though.  I don't have a heartbeat anymore. 
I've tried to feel it before, but I can't find it.  I'm dead, Evan.  I don't
know how to tell you that and I don't want to be that, but that's what I
am."

"Let
me try," he said.

"What?"

"I
don't think you're dead.  Let me see if I can find your pulse."

I
furrowed my brow at him, harrumphing, but decided to give in.  Shoving my arm
out towards him, palm upraised, I said, "Go ahead, but you won't find
anything."

His
blazing fingers wrapped around my wrist.  Resting his thumb on the outer part
of my upturned hand, he went about proving me right.  I stood there, watching
him, knowing I shouldn't get my hopes up but wondering if maybe I was wrong.  I
knew I wasn't, though.

I
breathed in and out, and still nothing.  Evan waited patiently for a few
seconds, shifting his thumb a little this way and that, but I recognized that
look on his face.  He hadn't found anything either and would soon need to
accept what I'd told him.

He
frowned, looking from my wrist to my face, ready to speak, but then he
hesitated.  His eyes lit up, a smile on his face, and he shook his head fast.

"No,"
he said.

"No
what?" I asked.  "What are you saying?"

I
sounded desperate, I knew it, but I needed him to say something more than
"No."  What did he mean?  Why did he look excited?  What was going
on?

"It's
faint.  A little weak, but I can feel it.  Your pulse is very low, though. 
That's probably why you're body temp is lower.  I can't say with absolute
certainty, but I think it's maybe six or seven beats per minute."

"I
don't believe you," I said.  I wanted to believe him.  I wanted to cry and
hug him and tell him he was the only person who'd given me any hope in such a
very long time, but I couldn't.  If I believed him, I knew it would only hurt me
more when I realized the truth later.

"Here,"
he said.  "I'll show you."

"I
appreciate the nice lie," I said, gazing off into the trees while he took
my other hand and placed my fingers on my wrist.  "I think it's nice of
you to do that and I don't hate you for it, but you can tell me the truth. 
We're both adults here."

My
fingers lay on my wrist, motionless.  Everything was motionless.  I had no
pulse, no heartbeat.  Maybe I had no heart?  What if that's what happened? 
Four chambers in my chest, shriveling up inside me, transforming into nothing
more than a hardened lump of muscle.

A
throbbing bump.

My
eyes widened and I stared at my wrist.  It had taken awhile, but I felt
something.

Evan
laughed, excited.  "See?"

"It
was a mistake," I said.  "Let me feel more."

He
nodded and moved close to me, resting his hands on my forearms by my elbow.  I
felt glistening, warm, and giddy.  Maybe ten seconds or so later, I felt it
again.

Bump!

I
laughed.  I wanted to jump around and dance and scream at the sky, but instead
I grabbed Evan and kissed him.  I didn't know where that came from, except
maybe I needed to because he was the only person around?  Was that all, though?

A
flood of emotion swelled through me as our lips touched.  I felt alive and
healthy, warm and pulsating.  I wasn't dancing, I was kissing, but my body
couldn't quite tell the difference at the moment.  Some quivering cadence of
molten fire surged through me.

I
nearly passed out from the raw feeling of it.  Overwhelmed, the warmth crashed
into me and made me shaky on my feet.  I teetered from side to side in a
strange, intoxicated state, and would have fallen if Evan hadn't caught me. 
The warmth of his fingers was softer than the heat of his lips and it leveled
me to a more balanced state of pleasure.

I
stared at him.  He looked at me, concerned, but not too much.  Happy, yes, and
worried, and curious.  I liked Evan.  He seemed like a nice person.

"Do
you want to come in?" I asked.

* * *

I
shouldn't have invited anyone into my house, because I never cleaned it.  Not
to say it was horribly dirty, but it wasn't in the best of shape before I
arrived, and I'd done nothing to fix it up afterwards, either.  I used the
kitchen for the bowls, spoons, the microwave, and a can opener, then the
bedroom for the bed and the bookcase, and that was about it.

We
stumbled inside, tripping over a clutter of jackets laying on the ground near
the coat closet.

"It's
nothing fancy," I said.  "I should clean more, but it's difficult to
remember to."

"This
is a really nice house," he said, awed.  "I love it.  I used to live
with another guy before everything happened, so I don't mind the clutter too
much.  It's not even that bad to be honest."

"I
try to take out the trash at the very least," I said.  Why was I telling
him this?  I sounded like some dirty loser.  "I don't eat much, though.  I
get full really fast.  I think that's a part of this?  I'm not sure."

Evan
nodded, listening, peering around my home.  He moved past me and walked into
the dining area with the open kitchen to the right.  There was a living room
off to the left, open as well, then a glass door in front of us leading to a
porch and the backyard.

"This
is nice," he said, removing his crossbow and quiver from his back and
tucking them into a corner of the living room.  "Too bad that huge TV
doesn't work."

I
laughed.  "It does work, actually, but I don't use it.  There's nothing
ever on."

"Huh?"
he asked.

"Look. 
Come here."  Pointing the way through the rear glass door, I showed him
the generator hidden near the back side of the house.  "I fill it with gas
from a nearby gas station.  It's been running fine since I came.  I try not to
use it often, though, because I don't know how long it'll last.  I love it,
though.  It's not much, but..."

"What?"
he asked.  "It's alright.  You can tell me if you want.  I won't think
it's strange."

I
laughed because that was exactly what I'd been thinking.  Strange, Sadie.  Why
are you telling this man you've just met about all the terrible things that are
wrong with you?  I was kind of surprised he hadn't run away screaming yet.

"I
turn it on for a few minutes every couple of days to use the microwave," I
whispered.  "I heat up a can of beans or soup or whatever I can find while
I'm out and about--"  Oh, yes, out and about.  Like I was just heading to
the store to do some weekly shopping.  "It really helps.  I know it's
dumb, but when I eat hot food, I feel normal for a little while.  I don't know
how long, but it helps."

I
felt so emotional and stunted, like I was some shriveled plant begging a
gardener to water me.  Except I wasn't a nice plant like a rose bush, nor a
useful plant like a tomato vine.  I wasn't even common grass.  I was some
hideous weed that everyone wanted to get rid of, to toss out, except if you
didn't do it properly I'd just grow back and piss you off even more.  I didn't
want to do that, I didn't want to annoy anyone and continue growing where I
didn't belong, but I didn't have any other choice, either.

"It's
probably been a long day for you, huh?" Evan asked.  "You're probably
tired."

This
was it.  He was going to pluck me up and toss me out, make some excuse for me
to go to bed and then leave me alone.

"I'm
not too tired," I said, praying I didn't sound desperate.  I knew I did,
but I didn't want to.

"Are
you hungry?" he asked.

I
wished I was.  "I ate yesterday."

"Ah. 
Right."

"My
bedroom's over here," I said.  "I'll probably lay down for a little
while.  I'm sure I'll feel better when I get up."

A
lie, of course.  He probably knew that, but I offered him the escape anyways. 
There wasn't anything wrong with leaving while I slept, since that's what most
people did.  An easy out, a way for him to go, and that was that.  I stumbled
towards the bedroom, feeling the remnants of his touch--his heat--fading away from
me.