“Reagan, I’m fifteen. You’re surprised that I said something mildly off color?”
Off color? “Yes, no, wait, on your left!” And then we were both firing after the creature crawling through the darkness. Yeesh, this one didn’t have any legs. I shivered, avoiding any kind of prolonged interaction with it as it bled out on the cold floor.
“One, two-“ I counted again, but he was already around the corner. “Damn it, King!” I hissed as I followed him.
“Listen, he’s already going to be super pissed we got split up,” King argued in a fierce whisper. And I could see his point.
We’d stormed this grocery store like a SWAT team- well, like a hungry, filthy, cranky SWAT team with a meager one gun a piece and about one hundred bullets divided between us all. I was following my usual protocol of being Hendrix’s Zombie-cide Brutality Buddy, when we were bombarded by Feeders. We got split up in the mayhem; he ended up on one side of the cash registers and I on the other. There were too many Zombies for him to fight my decision as I ran off after his youngest brother; but I had a feeling we were going to have words later.
I could hardly wait.
Oh no, that was wrong. I could wait. I could definitely wait.
“Well, he should pay more attention,” I sniped. “If he can’t keep tabs on me, then he doesn’t deserve me.” I was mostly just saying that out loud to hear myself talk- because I believed none of it. Nor did I really think we were into that dangerous place of being actually serious about each other- other than hoping the other one survived the day, and then the night and then the next day and so forth and so on.
King snorted. “I’m the wrong person for you to talk to about this. Don’t you have a friend?”
“Yes, I have a friend,” I confirmed, hiding my smile.
“And, not that I care about my brother or his wacked out sex life, but I think it was the multitude of Zombies obstructing his way back to you, not his lack of determination.”
Oh no.
“Oh no,” I exhaled an irritated breath. “You’re smart, aren’t you?”
“I’m not joking, Reagan, I really think it was the Zombies that made him run in the other direction.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, I know that’s why he went the other way. And I didn’t say smart ass; I mean you’re intellectual, you have a big brain, and all of your gray matter is firing on all four cylinders.”
“I don’t think that metaphor is right,” he countered.
“Ok, brainiac,” I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me.
“I have no idea.” He raised his arms, stiff and straight ahead of him, “I didn’t even finish seventh grade. But probably I’m just average.”
“What’s with all the big words then?” I dropped my voice back down to a whisper, not so much so that the Zombies wouldn’t hear me, but so I could hear them coming.
“Just wanted to see if I could still use them,” he shrugged in the dim light. “I figured you could at least understand them.”
My chest tightened. These kids needed to use their brains for more than just killing and foraging. He was practicing big words on me? Then he for sure was desperate. Although I doubted any of his brothers wanted to sit around and have deep, philosophical conversations with him just so he wouldn’t forget to make complete sentences or use basic English. I thought about Page and wondered if she could even read.
Holy hell, I bet she couldn’t! She was only six when the infection ruined everything for everyone. She might have a few words down, but there was no way she could read a book by herself- even an age appropriate book.
I wasn’t exactly the brightest crayon available but Haley was. She could help.
“Probably you’re going to regret having this conversation with me,” I grinned at King’s back.
He let out a huff of impatience and then fired his gun- one shot, two…. three…. dead. His fourth kill of the night and I hadn’t had a clean kill yet. Brat.
“Probably.”
Something grabbed one of my backpack straps and I spun around screaming and waving my gun around wildly.
“Don’t shoot!” Miller shouted while covering his head with his hands.
I screamed again, but this time it was a rush of relief and a whoosh of exhaled adrenaline. “Holy shit, Miller!”
“Cuss jar,” King nudged me in the shoulder, but it was with his gun- meaning he had been about to shoot, too.
I ignored him, “You cannot, under any circumstances, just sneak up on somebody!” I scolded him, but my argument was lost somewhere in my breathlessness and the hand clutching my heart.