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This is the End 2(645)

By:J. Thorn & Scott


This house was not safe on a few different levels, and even more so now that we couldn’t just pile in the van and escape. But the solar paneled electricity was incredibly convenient and might turn out to be the difference between Page getting better and Page getting sicker- an example would be the working freezer.

When Harrison and Hendrix returned from their perimeter sweep and Vaughan walked back into the living room empty handed from his medicine search, we ate a silent dinner around Page. Nelson was able to heat up baked beans, which seemed like an extravagance since we’d been eating room temperature food since Gary’s. We dipped crackers in our beans and ate it like stew. For dessert, he also heated up applesauce he found in the pantry and sprinkled cinnamon on it from the spice cabinet. We ate junk food a lot these days- mostly because it seemed to keep the best. Warm applesauce tasted deliciously healthy compared to beef jerky and candy bars. I allowed myself to relish the meal, even while we kept our rigid vigil on the floor at Page’s feet.

“I’ll keep watch first,” Hendrix declared to Vaughan while Nelson collected everyone’s trash. “You need sleep.”

Vaughan nodded and ran two rough hands down his scruffy face. “I do.”

“Reagan you’re with me, first watch,” he commanded next. Reagan gave him her mildly outraged look- the one he got whenever he ordered her around. But before she could say anything, he said in a low voice, “This is one of those times I need you more than you need to be independent.”

She rolled her eyes but I watched her face soften. I could give Hendrix that; he knew exactly how to get my girl tangled up in him. At first I just wanted him to back off- I was sure she was getting ready to bolt the more intense his pursuit became. But somehow he got through to her, made her want to stick around and put up with his caveman tactics.

Part of me wondered what their dad was like before the infection. None of them were very gentle about going after a girl- they just kind of barreled through the whole getting-to-know-you-game and went straight to “Do you take this woman?” They were too intense for their parents to have been laid back. But then again with their father ex-military, maybe this was some strategy he taught them. Instead of courting or wooing, they looked at dating with tactical analysis, deciding which strategies worked best and how to achieve love with the most efficiency.

I wanted to scoff at that, but then again, here I was. Nelson somehow convinced me to give this whole thing a try. So clearly they were on to something.

Harrison and King scattered off to bed- anxious to get away from their more-than-usual stressed out older brothers. Vaughan shot Nelson and me a look that was part confused, part shocked disbelief and then disappeared down the hallway.

I actually worried about Vaughan, although I would never say that out loud. He was a really strong, capable leader, but he carried a lot of weight on his shoulders. And while I knew Hendrix liked to think he carried equal parts, I could see how much more Vaughan felt his responsibility than Hendrix.

I was pretty sure Hendrix was the front runner for Reagan’s heart, but only because Hendrix allowed himself more time to devote to convincing her she needed him. In a scenario before Zombies, Hendrix would have never stood a chance against his older, more laid back, more fun-loving brother. At one time Reagan was nothing but fun and games and Hendrix would have driven her crazy.

Obviously, the last two years had changed her and not necessarily for the worse. She was strong and independent now, focused and alert. Hendrix was definitely right for her in this particular scenario, but Vaughan would have stood more of a chance if he didn’t have so many obligations on his plate.

I thought all that, but then Reagan’s eyes followed Vaughan down the hallway and her eyebrows creased together with concern and…. something more. So maybe Vaughan wasn’t out of the running just yet.

Nelson disappeared for a while and I was left to sit with Page alone. I had my watch and the time for her next dose of Tylenol to keep me company. As the house grew darker, I scooted closer to the couch, reaching out for Page’s limp hand.

My heart was in literal pain for this little girl and I sat there until everything was pitch black around me, working through every memory I had of health care and illnesses. My mind screamed for antibiotics, but there was nothing I could do about that- at least for tonight. I wanted her to wake up and drink some fluids, soothe her aching throat with water or ice. What I really wanted was orange Jell-O and 7up, which was what I got whenever I had strep throat. But those were impossible demands.

Probably more so than penicillin.

My eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness. I could make out the forms of all the furniture surrounding me, and Hendrix and Reagan’s bodies as they sat huddled together in the kitchen. They stared out the back door, guns nearby, voices low and whispery.