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"Sure. 
Let's go with that.  But why do they eat people, then?  If it's just warmth
then why aren't all the zom--"  Desiree paused, but not for any particular
dislike of the term; Evan was glaring at her, brow furrowed.  "The others
like Sadie, alright?  Why don't they just go around asking for hugs?  Seems
like a better idea than eating people, don't you think?"

Evan
didn't want to say anything, but I could tell he was thinking about it.  Why
didn't we?  I knew, though.  I understood why.

"If
we eat something warm," I said, "it keeps us warmer for awhile.  We
don't have to touch anything then.  That's what I do sometimes.  I heat up a
can of soup or beans or whatever I can find and I eat as much as I can and then
I feel nice for half an hour or an hour or so.  We... I can't eat too much,
though.  I get full a lot faster now.  I don't know why."

"You
heat up beans?" Desiree asked.  "If you're so cold and you can start
a fire, why don't you just do that all the time?"

"It's
not a fire," Evan said.  "This house has a generator.  She fills it
with gas and turns it on to use the microwave."

"Not
too much," I added.  "I just use it for that.  I don't want it to run
out."

Desiree
listened closely.  While she listened to both of us explain, her eyes widened a
little bit.  She glanced between Evan and I, a smile forming on her face, lips
curling into a grin. 

"This
is perfect!" she said.  "This is a fairly big house.  There's a
basement too, is there?  Who knows how big that is, but I bet between the
actual bedrooms and the basement we could find a place in here for most
everyone back at camp for the winter.  I think this is just the type of spot
Alex would approve of, don't you, Evan?"

"Who's
Alex?" I asked.  What was the camp?  Evan had mentioned something about
that to me, but I didn't really understand.  Was it a lot of people?  Who were
they?

Evan
shook his head.  "We can't, Desiree.  Alex can't find out about this.  We
need to keep it a secret."

"What
do you mean we need to keep it a secret?  We can't!  Winter's coming.  It's not
so bad now, but what do you expect us to do when it starts getting colder out. 
What do we do when it starts snowing?  I don't know about these sick people of
yours, but they're alright cold, right?  We can't live like that, though. 
Maybe that's what caused it.  They can survive in the snow, I bet. 
Maybe..."

Evan
interrupted her.  "No.  It's not a bad idea, but what about Sadie?  Do you
think I can explain this to Alex?  Do you think he'll listen to me?  You're the
only one I trust enough to tell.  We can't tell Alex."

Desiree
glared at him.  She didn't say anything in particular, but I imagined her eyes
said everything for her.  Evan looked at her, quiet and helpless, but trying to
remain firm.  He put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed me tight,
protective.

"Please,
Desiree?" he asked.  "Alex can find something else.  I'll help him.  Once...
once everything's all set and we've helped the camp figure out a plan for the
winter, maybe we can..."

"What?"
Desiree asked.  "Maybe we can what?" 

She
seemed to have some idea of what he wanted to say.  Personally, I had no clue
what it was.

"Maybe
you and I can leave.  And come here.  I don't belong there and you know it. 
It's too different.  Everyone there hates what's happened and they'd just as
gladly kill the people they think are zombies as much as help them.  I just
can't stay around people like that for much longer."

"What
makes you think I don't agree with them?" Desiree asked, emotionless. 
"What makes you think I agree with you?  You've found one zombie girl who
isn't trying to eat anyone, supposedly, but how do you know?  What if she has
before?  What if she will again in the future?  You don't know, Evan." 
She swallowed hard before continuing.  "What if you can't find a cure,
either?  What if there
is
no cure?  What then?"

 

* * *

 

"Can
I speak with you alone, Sadie?" Evan asked.

We
were at somewhat of a stalemate.  I didn't quite understand everything that was
going on, since I never had to deal with their side of the situation, but I got
the impression that things were rough.  I had a house, though I didn't use most
of it, and Evan and Desiree had tents.  When it rained, what happened then? 
They dealt with it as best they could and that was it.

I
never said this to either of them, but when it rained for us--me and the others
like me--we sought shelter, too.  Not in tents, no, but anywhere away from the
rain.  Every drop, every sheet of water beating down against us, felt like
shards of ice ripping through our flesh.  We didn't feel pain regularly most
times, but rain hurt.  Drinking water was fine and most of the others did that
from what I knew, but otherwise we avoided it.

I
smiled at Evan, trying not to think about that, about the rain, about anything
painful and bad.  "In the bedroom?" I asked.

He
nodded.

To
Desiree, I added, "There's chips and crackers in the cupboards if you want
anything.  I don't know if they're good still and they might be stale.  I'm not
sure.  You're welcome to check if you want, though."

She
gave me a cock-eyed glare then huffed and went to search through the cupboards.

Evan
and I went to the bedroom.  He held me close and kept me steadied, though it
was easy to walk now with him nearby.  I didn't necessarily find it hard any
other time, but it was hard to think about it; hard to remember to keep moving,
hard to regain my balance if I stumbled.

Inside
the master bedroom, Evan closed the door and we went to the bed.  I sat on it,
prim and proper, folding my hands in my lap, waiting for him to join me. 
Instead of doing that, Evan flopped onto the blankets and stretched his arms
above his head, sighing.

"This
is so nice," he said.  "I have a cot back at camp, and a tent, but
this is so much better."

I
glanced over my shoulder at him, feeling shy.  "Is it bad there?"

Behind
us, towards where Evan's hands were stretching, was the door to the bathroom. 
The door was open wide, with a half-empty bottle of water near the sink.  I
clenched my teeth together, remembering it.

Yes,
rain hurt.  Or any water.  But I hated the idea of staying dirty.  More than
once (a few times a week, actually), whenever I remembered it I forced myself
to scrub down with a bottle of water, some soap, and a washcloth.  It never
felt good, in fact it stung so badly, but I was clean.  I was a little more
human, a little less...

Evan
put his hands on my hips and pulled me to the bed.  Rolling me atop him, eyes
bright and watching me, he pulled me close.

"What
was that look for?" he asked.

"I..." 
I wanted to tell him.  I desperately did.  I wanted to tell him about the pain
of scouring my skin and I wanted to share that with him so he would know he
wasn't the only one who suffered, but what was my suffering compared to his and
Desiree's?  I didn't know if they suffered the same as me or if it was even
remotely comparable and, doubting myself, I didn't know if they suffered more
than me.  I didn't risk being assaulted and eaten every time I went outside,
now did I?

"It's
nothing," I said.  "I was just lost in thought."

"If
there's something wrong, you can tell me," he said.  "You know that,
right?"

His
lips pressed against my chin and kissed up towards my mouth.  I gasped at the
blaze of it, a trail of fire heating my face.  Evan squeezed me tight and
kissed lower, lingering on my neck.  Every breath I took, every time I
swallowed, I felt a piece of him and his burning passion sliding down my throat
and into my stomach.

"Evan,"
I whispered, barely more than a wisp of breath.

He
grinned and stopped kissing me, letting me think and speak.  I laughed and
kissed his nose, delighting in the tingling feeling on my lips.

"You
did that on purpose," I said, chiding him.  "You wanted to distract
me."

Smiling,
he said, "You looked upset.  Now you don't.  It worked out, right?"

I
nodded.  "Yes.  A bit."

"I
didn't mean to pressure you before," he said.

"What
do you mean?"

"When
I mentioned that maybe Desiree and I could leave our camp and come here
instead.  It just came out, you know?  I didn't think about it first, I just
sort of said it when it came to me, and I shouldn't have.  This is your place
and I should have talked with you about that first.  And, I mean... we've just
met.  It was rude of me.  Maybe when we get to know each other better it'd
work, but..."

"You
can move in now if you'd like," I said.  "I don't think Desiree likes
me, but if you trust her then I don't mind if she comes, too."

He
blinked, confused, then he grinned.  "Are you sure?  Um, we can't.  Or, I
can't.  Not yet, anyways, but I want to.  Not just because it's nicer here,
Sadie.  I like you, too, and I think it'd be better here.  Right?  I can try to
help people.  I can help you, of course, but others, too."

"I
woke up this morning," I said, trying not to get too excited by his
excitement, "and I didn't know where I was.  I was so lost and alone.  I
thought maybe I'd gone out drinking last night, but I never used to do that
much.  I thought maybe I'd gotten too drunk and gone with some guy to his house
and... I woke up cold and alone in a bed I didn't know in a house I didn't
recognize with my mind fuzzy and screwed up.  And, I'm not saying this to upset
you, Evan, or make you pity me, but I don't want to wake up like that every
day."

"I
like you, too, Evan," I continued, unable to stop myself now even though I
thought I was saying far too much.  "I'm so glad you came back and I'm
happy you're here.  This is going to sound..."  Bad.  Everything I said
sounded bad.  I knew I shouldn't have told Evan half of the things that I did,
but he made me feel so nice.  Not just with his touch, but his care and
concern, too.  His smile, the way he talked to me, the way he cuddled close to
me and held me--like he was holding me right now--treating me not just like a
person, but like an equal; almost like a lover.  Maybe exactly like that.

Puppy
love or random circumstance or whatever; I didn't care.  "If you stay here
I won't feel confused anymore," I said.  "I might, just for a little
while, but not for long, because I know you'll be there.  When I wake up, when
you're next to me, I'll..."

I
was crying.  I didn't want to cry and the sting of salty tears hurt as much as
any ice cold rain drop, and maybe even more.  I clutched at Evan and cried,
squeezing him tight and digging my nails into his shirt and his skin. 
Instinctively, not even thinking about it, I opened my mouth and leaned down
close to him, pressing my lips and my tongue against his throat.  I sobbed
openly, sucking and licking at his neck, tasting the sweetness and warmth of
his throat.

In
the back of my mind, some thought pushed to the fore, prominent and needy. 
Just a bite, I thought.  One tiny nibble, enough to break the skin so I could
feel the tart tang of his essence on my lips and in my mouth, down my throat. 
A little, not much, only a tiny amount.  What was it like?  Why did the others
do it?  Did it make them feel better for longer?  Did they feel warm and nice
and wonderful afterwards?  Did the sensation outweigh the act of killing
someone?  At least in their minds, did it?

Evan
held me tight in his arms, embracing and accepting me.  His body felt so light
and soft beneath mine, like a heavy down pillow, yet his arms were strong and
powerful.  He held me close with his thick arms, like blankets, never once
thinking that I wondered what it'd be like to bite him.  My lips lay on his
neck still, open, swarming with pleasure and heat.  I nipped at his throat,
just a little.  Not enough to break the skin or do anything except alert Evan
to the presence of my teeth.

Not
enough to do anything.  Not enough.

I
moved my mouth away and turned my head so that my cheek touched against his. 
My tears had stopped, dried, and Evan helped by brushing the wetness away from
my cheek.  Where ice and water trickled, he warmed me with his fingertips.

"I
almost bit you," I whispered to him, scared.  "I thought about it,
Evan.  I didn't do it, but I think I could have.  I wasn't thinking straight
and it felt so nice and warm and you were so close.  I almost bit you, Evan. 
I'm sorry."

He
moved to look at me and he was smiling.  Why was he smiling?  He didn't look
scared or nervous or upset.  He didn't seem like any of those.  In fact, he
looked happy.

"You
wouldn't," he said.  "I know, Sadie.  You wouldn't do it."

"How
do you know?" I asked.

"Lots
of people think about lots of things, but they don't do them, right?  I know
you wouldn't do it.  You might not believe in yourself, but I believe in you. 
Do you believe me?"

I
nodded, faint, gazing at him.  His eyes, so nice, looked into mine, and I hoped
maybe we could stay that way forever.  Just looking at each other, just laying
here, nice and close and good.  "I do," I said.

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