Because You Exist(34)

“She said she was fine,” I called out.

“Coffee,” Bentham grinned as he returned, holding a pot and four tin mugs.

“Did we step into a western?” I joked. “Where does one even find a tin coffee kettle and cups?”

“You’d be surprised what you find going through dead people’s things for two years,” he replied, going to work on the coffee.

“Wait. Something doesn’t make sense,” Josephine said, rocking slightly back and forth as if her whole body was alive with thought. “When we first shifted, Jenna’s body was still pretty, you know, intact for someone who was dead for almost two years. I mean assuming the outbreak had already occurred when you two started shifting.”

Jenna’s body.

Jenna.

I was so caught up in my sudden need to lose myself in the feel of Jenna’s skin that I almost missed Randall’s explanation. “Another odd symptom of the illness—slow decay of the body. Sure, the skin would fall off from the merest touch, but once death occurred, the bodies were slow to deteriorate.”

“It’s a real mindfuck. You see the body. Your mind goes crazy wondering how it could be so well preserved, thinking maybe this disease wasn’t as rampant and all-consuming as you were led to believe, and then you lift the body to bury it and it falls apart right there in your hands,” Bentham said.

“And they had no idea what caused this?” Josephine whispered, her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach.

Randall reached a hand out to place on her shoulder, but quickly returned it to his side when I glared at him. I knew he meant it as a sign of comfort, but she didn’t like to be touched. Not by anyone. Randall cleared his throat. “Why don’t we talk more about this in the morning? We need some rest. No way of being sure how long your time shift will last. In a few days we’ll have to move again, and that means most likely running into more of the zombies. If we want to help the people we love, we gotta survive long enough to do it.”

For once, something these two said made sense. I was still fully aware of the fact that the moment we shifted back, I would have a football game to win. Sure, in the grand scheme of things football didn’t seem so damn important, but I needed it.

“I guess that just leaves all the coffee for me,” said Bentham.

“It is your turn to take watch duty,” Randall replied, moving towards the tent.

“I wouldn’t mind some coffee,” said Josephine. “Why don’t you get some sleep, Logan?” I read what wasn’t being said aloud in her eyes. The look that told me tonight she would take watch. She may have believed their story, but she didn’t trust our lives to them yet. I didn’t argue with her. I was exhausted. And who knew what the hell was waiting for us next?





Chapter 18





“Ben? Those men, the survivors...”

“Yeah. They’re pretty messed up. Not that I can blame them,” Bentham replied.

I’m not sure how long Josephine and Bentham, excuse me, Ben had been talking before it woke me up. It took me a long while to fall asleep. I kept waiting for Randall to start snoring. Something about a fat man screams snorer, but it never happened. I always joked with Jenna if she ever started snoring, I’d break up with her on the spot. I had always been a light sleeper. Unfortunately, I had never been blessed with the teenage male’s ability to sleep through the apocalypse.

Nope. Not lucky enough for that.

Sometime during my obsessive need to run through every football play that could possibly be called in tonight’s game, I fell asleep. When I woke up, Josephine was already calling Bentham, Ben.

Hearing the ease with which they talked caused a sudden need in me to stay awake. They had no idea I could hear them. I could listen in on their world without them even knowing, and there was something strangely appealing about that. I wondered if this was what it was like for Josephine back at school?

“What do you mean? You’re not actually making excuses for those things are you?” Josephine asked, clearly disgusted by the thought. Which made me extremely happy.

“Imagine that you watched everyone around you die. These men, the ones left, did you know they are mostly criminals and outcasts, men who never found their place in society? You watch everyone die and you feel one of two things: You either feel you are entitled to the world that’s left, better, as you always knew, than the people that died around you or—”

“Or, you feel that everything the world told you about yourself, every dark and twisted thing is true. You didn’t die because you weren’t important enough to die. You were left with the rest of the world’s rejects,” Josephine added quietly.