(Book 2)What Remains (2 page)

The little angel disappeared behind the blackout
curtains. I heard her voice yell out like she was telling someone a
secret. Then she jumped backward and a blur of motion pushed past
the thick fabric. Maddox popped into the room with the ease only an
eight year old could muster.

“Daddy,” he said in disbelief, “you’re okay!” My
son looked taller than when I last saw him even though it hadn’t
been a long time at all. Maddox practically jumped over his little
sister to reach the bed. He grabbed me in a painful hug. Calise,
ignoring my earlier pleas to be gentle, joined her brother in the
embrace. Being held again by my children made it easy to swallow
the pain that radiated within me. I craved medicinal relief like it
was my favorite food.

“Hi, Monkey,” I said with a proud smile. “I see
you’ve been taking care of Mommy and Calise.”

He stood up looking like a little man. “I did
just as you asked me to, Daddy. I knew you wouldn’t let the zombies
stop you.”

My heart sank when I heard him say that word.
That was the word that echoed in my unconscious thoughts. I still
despised the fact that it had to be spoken of as a statement of
fact instead of fiction. I tried to hide my discontent, “You were
very right, Maddox. I’m just glad you kept our ladies safe.”

Then the curtains rose again. The area was
granted an increase in illumination from outside. Through the
natural light, my beautiful bride entered the joy-filled room. She
looked at me and smiled. Tears streamed down from her gracious
eyes. Her cold hands were placed over my cheeks and her lips met
mine. Sarah gave me a tender kiss then looked into my eyes.

“Welcome home, Nathan.”

Sarah sent the kids up to the attic.

Maddox proudly informed me that he had helped
Sarah clear out the area above our ranch home so they’d all have a
place to spend time. It was a smart move. The attic was more
isolated from sound and had a large open area. Up there the kids
were able to move around without the worry of being seen through
any outside predatory eyes on the ground level. Not to mention, the
only way to reach it was by way of a pull down ladder. If the
infected were to break inside then they wouldn’t be able to reach
anyone up there.

My wife ushered the kids out and closed the
door. Sarah climbed up into the bed and under the covers. She
occupied the area that was still warm from where Calise had been
nestled minutes before. Her head leaned on my shoulder and she
started to weep.

“Baby,” I was crying too but naturally wanted to
put her at ease. “I’m home – just like I said I’d be. It’s okay
now.”

“I was starting to lose hope,” she said in a
soft, almost shameful voice.

“So was I. There were so many of them. Sarah, I…
I did some terrible things...”

“You’re here now. You promised you’d make it and
you did.” She tried to shift the subject. “You were pretty beaten
up. I did my best to patch you up but worried about giving you
medicine because I didn’t want you to choke on the pills.”

Memories of the creature biting me came
prominently to my mind. “Sweetie…” I felt like I was telling her
that I had cancer, “I remember being bitten.”

“You were.”

My heart sank. “Then I have to leave. I’m
not
going to put you at risk. You know what a bite does…
right?”

Her voice was oddly calm. “Yes, of course I do.
After all, I was willing to use a shotgun against those people
because I know what a bite does. The bite didn’t go through your
skin though.”

I was so ready to accept the fate of infection
that I nearly argued the fact. “How is that possible? I remember
the pain.”

Sarah sat up and reached over to the nightstand.
Her hand returned with a flashlight and a freezer-sized Ziploc bag.
The flashlight beam revealed a dirty patch of duct tape inside the
bag. I looked closer and saw the obvious, gore splotched, bite mark
that was indented in the silver sleeve.

“The tape stopped the bite?”

She nodded happily. “Yes it did. But… what was
this?” Sarah flipped the bag over to show the adhesive side. It was
dotted with my forcibly removed leg hair. Her finger pointed to a
little broken black rectangle wrapped in plastic.

Immediately I was taken back to that night. I
remembered the feeling of utter despair I’d suffered from thinking
I wouldn’t make it home. Most of all, I remembered the shell of a
man I saw played back in the messages I’d recorded to say
goodbye.

Sarah noticed the distant look on my face.
“Sweetie, what was this?”

“It’s nothing that matters now. I’m just glad it
was there.” I hoped she’d pick up on the hint and not push the
subject any longer. That man who’d recorded those goodbye messages
didn’t exist anymore.

“Me too. I stitched up your forehead and
bandaged
a lot
of other places.” I felt my forehead and was
comforted by a covering that was not made of duct tape. “We also
had some antibiotics that weren’t too old. I ground them up and put
them in your water but that was risky since you were unconscious.
It’s only been a couple days but I think the inflammation is down.
It’ll be better now that you can swallow the other prescription
anti-inflammatories we have.”

“Thank you for tending to me. I needed it,” I
said with a smile.

“I’m almost positive you have at least one
cracked rib.” Then my wife turned on the commanding power of a
mothering tone. “So I hope you’re comfortable, because you’ll be
laying here another week at least.”

“I can live with that. Is the house safe? Do we
have enough supplies to make it through until I can become more
mobile?”

“We’ll be fine. Maddox is helping out a lot.
Just get better and then we can figure out what to do next.”

“Yes ma’am.” She settled back down next to me.
“Sarah, am I in my pajamas?”

This was met with a cute giggle. “Yes, you are.
Your clothes were covered in things I don’t even want to think
about. And I had to make sure you weren’t bitten anywhere else.”
She stopped and was quiet for a moment. “Nathan, you had blood on
you.”

“I was pretty messed up.”

“I know, but it wasn’t in places where you were
injured. Did someone else bleed on you?”

I knew she’d found blood that belonged to the
man whose life I’d ended. “Yeah… someone did.”

A partner in life can recognize when you don’t
want to talk about something. Sarah picked up on this and didn’t
push the matter. “It doesn’t matter what you did to get here.” She
stifled more sobs. “The only thing that matters is that you
are
here.”

The love of my life got up from the bed. I
looked back at her like the simple act of leaving the bed was like
pulling out my life support. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to get the kids something to eat. And
if you can get some substance in you, then we can finally get some
drugs in your system,” Sarah said without a hint of concern for my
response. My response was a side note because she was right – she’s
always right.

“I’ll be right here,” I called with a
strengthening voice. She only looked towards me with a smile.

Once I was alone, I continued to lie there in
the bed reeling over past events. My dilapidated form subdued the
natural instinct I’d formed to jump up and find a weapon.
Regardless of the fact that I was not in immediate danger, I had
conditioned myself to be prepared because being alone meant I had
to watch my back. After fighting tooth and nail against Hell
incarnate, I couldn’t fault myself for still wanting to follow this
urge.

Sarah returned a few minutes later. In her hand
was one of our translucent green plastic cups. It was littered with
cracks that should have made the drinking apparatus useless long
ago. Somehow, years later, the thing still holds liquid. This time
it was filled with a brown fluid that became distorted from the
ribbed texture of the cup. She set the drink down on the nightstand
and pulled the blackout curtain back a bit.

She took a pillow and attempted to help me sit
up. My muscles were stiff and resistant. Pain echoed everywhere
that pain could be felt. After a minute of struggle, I finally sat
up at a forty-five degree angle and Sarah handed me the cup.

The drink looked like cheap lunchroom chocolate
milk. “What is it?” I asked hesitantly.

“Darling, whatever it is,” she said with a
devious smirk, “you’re going to drink it.”

I could win battles against the undead, but
wasn’t worth trying against the much more fearsome force that is my
wife. The drink wasn’t as bad as I thought… but then it wasn’t
great either. I choked it down and enjoyed the sensation of
sustenance returning to my body. “This tastes like that instant
breakfast crap.”

“Probably because
it is
that crap… only
in water instead of milk,” Sarah snickered. She walked into the
bathroom and returned with an old prescription pill bottle.

“What, you’re trying to drug me now? Come on,
you’ve already got my pants off!” I said with a painful chuckle.
It’s amazing I could be here joking with my beloved. Marital humor
is a powerful force.

She rolled her eyes at me and twisted the bottle
open. “It’s the pain pills you never took from when you broke those
toes. They’re a little expired but it should help more than the
Advil you’ll have to take when these are gone. So enjoy it while
you can!”

I was born a klutz. Frankly, I was shocked that
I won any battle against the walking dead. My normal level of
clumsy dexterity should have created a fatal ‘out-take’ of some
kind. Fortunately, I had the proper motivation fueling my actions.
Sarah handed me two of the capsules. I downed them with the last
sip of my chocolate flavored beverage.

“Get some rest, Nathan,” my wife commanded with
loving eyes. “The meds should help you sleep. I’ll send Calise in
to check on you later.”

“Please remind her that hugs hurt when your ribs
are broken.”

Sarah laughed. “I will, but you know it’ll only
make her want to hug you more.” She turned to the door.

“Sarah…” I said almost shyly.

Her hair angelically flipped around with her
turning head. “Yes, baby?”

“I…” My voice choked and cut off. “I just wanted
to tell you that I love you.”

A smile worked over her face. When she turned I
saw that her eyes were already moistened with tears that had most
likely formed before I said it. Sarah walked over to me and gave me
a soft kiss on the lips. “I know you do sweetheart.”

Then she was gone and I was alone again. My mind
was so flooded with thoughts that I couldn’t focus on a singular
one. Any effort to sort through the tsunami of worry was drowned by
the greater strength of sleep’s embrace.

Suddenly I was back alongside the James. I could
hear the churning rapids. A bellowing shriek of some passing undead
debris permeated the droning water. Then I felt the strain on my
arm. My right grip was getting moist but tightened out of
necessity. It was attached to the blade that had become a deadly
extension of my very person.

The contortion of my body radiated pain from
every joint. I looked up in a panic. Black clouds blanketed a
soulless sky. Under my left fist was the rusted ribbing of a re-bar
ladder. Looking back, I allowed my eyes to follow the curvature of
my soiled Kukri.

It ended in a monstrous face. The blade was
embedded into the visage of a creature. This beast had crawled back
from death in a viral mission to spread reminders of Hell itself.
Now its weight pulled my weapon and me down into the virulent
waters that flowed beyond.

I couldn’t find the breath to scream. I couldn’t
even find the breath to plead for mercy. All I could feel was the
overwhelming burden that came from the cusp of failure. My frantic
eyes shot back to the top of the ladder. Nothing was there to greet
me. Nothing was there to
save
me.

The strain was unbearable. I must let go or this
would be my death. Then my eyes looked back into the lifeless,
drooling corpse now fused into my lifeline. But the face was
different… A single eye looked down the blade and back at the
source of execution.

I know that eye. I know this face,
I
thought irrationally.

It all struck me at once –
I
was on the
other end of the blade. The mutilated version of me opened its
mouth. A horrid slick of black tar spewed from jaws that hung
agape. Weakness overcame my twisted body. I released my grip of the
ladder and fell with the disfigured doppelganger into the hellish
waters.

Bitterly cold waves nipped against my exposed
skin. The beast screamed a nonsensical rant even as it remained
impaled upon my Kukri. It said no words but I knew it was accusing
me. My undead reflection condemned me with the accusation of being
a
monster
. It clawed at my face trying like hell to create
some equalizing disfigurement.

All I knew then was the muted sounds of cyclonic
waters. An overwhelming sense of hopelessness drained me of any
will to fight. I drifted downstream with the monster and finally
as
a monster.

I sat up in a cold sweat. At that moment I was
thankful that reality could be infinitely more comforting than
dreams.

My dreams were not kind.

Over the course of that day, I had gone in and
out of consciousness. The time I spent awake was time I tried my
best to forget the things my mind showed me while I slept.

Sometimes I was alone. Other times I’d feel the
painful snuggling power of Calise. She’d lie there and talk about
some game she and her brother had thought up to pass the time. Then
she’d get quiet or fall asleep. Whether it was the sound of her
soft little voice, or the rhythmic snore she denied having, I just
stayed there and enjoyed every minute.