Foamers (8 page)

“Ash was always the same way. I think she named every person on our soccer team,”
Grace said.

“Nicknames are far more important than birth names,” Tiny replied.

“I’m starting to redefine the word ‘family’. Come on, these windows aren’t going
to board themselves up,” Grace said.

* * *

X and Ashton had made their way to a small community, where they found a house with
an unlocked front door. Even though X could break into any of the houses, an unlocked
door was much more valuable. The other group planned to turn a dorm into a fortress,
but he and Ashton wouldn’t stay here long, so spending hours to secure the house
was wasted time he could spend preparing to leave. A locked door would be more than
enough protection for their night here. After all, the foamers they had come across
weren’t able to open their car doors or unbuckle their seat belts.

The house was a split-level in desperate need of paint. The peeling yellow coat looked
like it predated X. Regardless, he was happy to have a roof over their heads after
spending two days outdoors.

They stood at the landing, between the flights of blue carpeted floors that extended
in both directions of the house. Ashton flipped the first light switch, but they
were still in the dark while the porch light turned on. She flipped the second switch
and the light hanging from the ceiling cast a glow through the house. She clapped
her hands and smiled at X.

He held a finger to his lips and she nodded. After testing the top step for creaks
he descended the rest of the way, drawing his .357 and predator knife. He doubted
the cartridge powder would fire, but it still steadied his nerves to have the gun
to point at anyone—or anything—that might be waiting for him.

At the bottom of the steps, Ashton flipped every switch, showering the family room
with light. There was a love seat and couch in the shape of an L, and a stone fireplace
on the far side of the room.

Ashton quietly opened the door at the bottom of the stairs. She snaked her hand inside
the door and flipped the light on. The room was filled with workout equipment and
boxes. Nothing X needed to be alarmed over.

X found the entire experience to be flipped on its ear: He was the intruder searching
for life, but usually he was the one trying to avoid detection. They went back upstairs
where there was an open living room with a leather sectional and small, flat-screen
TV.

Through an arch was the kitchen. The white refrigerator was against the wall, next
to a stretch of countertop that was littered with small appliances and tubs of baking
ingredients. A rectangle-top table with four chairs sat in the center, with the door
to the garage at the end of the table.

Ashton tapped X on the shoulder and pointed to a set of keys hanging from a hook
by the door. X let out a sigh. The drive to Houghton was only a couple of hours.
That was much better than the days it would take them to walk the rest of the way.

He looked at the three closed doors down the hallway. The door on his left had a
string of white hearts around it that descended in size from top to bottom. They
opened that door first and found a narrow bathroom in spotless condition. The door
to their right had a cartoon dog hanging by a brown string.

Inside the room, there were so many toys sprawled about that there was only a small
path across the carpet to a racecar bed. The mattress still had the fitted sheet
on it, but the top layers of bedding were missing. Satisfied there was nothing living
in the room, X continued down the hallway.

He could only wonder if his luck would hold out as Ashton turned the knob on the
final door. The hinges creaked as the door opened into the dark room. X stepped past
her, noticing for the first time that she was holding a butcher knife. She must
have snagged it from the kitchen. He couldn’t help but be impressed by her instinct.

A California king with a black comforter was centered against the wall, with nightstands
on either side. The bed was nearly the same size as the room, leaving just enough
space to pass between the bed and the cherry dresser that held a TV.

Ashton set her knife on the makeup table and launched herself onto the bed. She giggled
as she rolled around on the gigantic mattress.

“I never thought I’d be so happy to see a bed again,” she said, hugging the comforter.

X fought the stupid smile on his face, but it won as he crossed the room and opened
both doors to reveal nothing more than his and her closets.

“Glad you approve. Do you want to cook dinner or load the pack with food?”

“I’ll pack.”

He shrugged off the pack and handed it to her.

In the kitchen, she ransacked the cabinets, setting all the goods onto the countertops.
He opened the refrigerator and appraised the contents.

As he pulled out a carton of eggs, he wondered if he would ever be able to make scrambled
eggs again. It was a simple process: get a bowl, add eggs, add milk, whip, pour,
sizzle, scrape, eat. It would never be simple again.

He pulled a tomato out of the crisper drawer and bit into it like an apple, sending
a burst of juice onto the red floor.

“I am not cleaning that up,” Ashton said as she clanked a can of SpaghettiOs onto
the counter.

“We could probably feed the world with the amount of food going to waste.”

“You don’t strike me as the caring type.”

“Yeah, yeah,” X said. “Just keep unloading the groceries, honey.”

X didn’t look, but he could tell she was flipping him off. Such spunk.

Fifteen minutes later, they sat across from each other at the table. His masterpiece
lay before them on the good china. His creation was ham and pepper scrambled eggs
with bacon on wheat toast, and a dab of hot sauce, just for flavor.

X’s teeth tore through the sandwich, loving the first thing they touched in two days
that wasn’t a protein bar. As he swallowed his third bite, he noticed Ashton sitting
with her hands in her lap, staring at the plate. X set his sandwich down and pushed
his chair out.

“Do you say grace?” he asked, opening the fridge and pulling out a carton of orange
juice, a gallon of milk, and a beer.

She shook her head, grabbed the beer, and said, “It looks like it’s going to bite
back.”

He debated saying something to her about the beer, but what the hell, it was the
end of the world. Giving her a wink, he retrieved a second beer from the fridge.

“Only person who ever didn’t like one of my sandwiches was quite prissy,” he said,
taking his seat.

The snap of the beer top echoed in the quiet house, and Ashton held her beer out
toward him. He grabbed his own can and cracked it open. The gap closed between their
beers, but at the last moment, he pulled his away and took a swig.

“You haven’t earned a
cheers
yet.”

“And what would it take to receive a tap from the great and powerful Xavier?” she
replied, her can meeting her thin lips.

The stupid smile crept across his face, which he immediately felt guilty about since
he knew Kade wouldn’t approve.

“Just eat your sandwich. Before we leave in the morning, we’re going to find every
piece of luggage and pack all the food,” he said.

“What about the other houses?”

“Your brother is going to be flipping a shit. Plus, there’s a lot of work to do at
Houghton. We need to go.”

“He’s going to be scared either way. It’s not like the food here will be good if
we come back. So, we spend a day here, find a good vehicle, and get some extra supplies.
Another day won’t kill anyone.”

“Two nights here?”

“You saw that bed.”

“Eat your sandwich.”

They finished the meal in silence and left the dirty dishes in the sink. X pictured
the plates still sitting there in another decade, untouched by anything but the mold.

“That was delicious,” she said, opening the fridge and getting herself another beer.

“Thanks.”

She’d had a good idea at dinner, but he was more afraid to stay alone with her than
he was to face anything in the Primal Age. He only had so much willpower. If he
could just get to Kade, he knew he would have no problem seeing Ashton as Kade’s
little sister again.

“I’m going to head to bed,” Ashton said, not moving a step.

“Good night.” X sauntered into the living room.

“You’re not tired?” she asked, following him.

“I won’t fit in the racecar bed.”

“You’re going to sleep on the couch?”

“Yes.”

Ashton’s arms crossed over her chest as she bit down on her lip. Her eyes scanned
the room, focusing on the DVD rack. A sly smile crept across her face as her mind
settled on a plan.

“Can we watch a movie?”

“You should get some sleep.”

“Please?”

“What do you want to watch?”

“Something in the bedroom.”

X stood in silence.

“Fine, but we’re just watching a movie.”

“What else would we do?” she said, and smirked at him. He couldn’t help the stupid
smile stretching across his face.

She brushed past him into the living room and got down on her knees in front of the
entertainment center. As she browsed the selection of DVDs, her pants pulled tight
against her ass, which X was sure she was intentionally wiggling. She grinned as
she caught him staring.

“Isn’t it weird, we’ll never see a movie in theaters again?” she said, grabbing something
that looked like a chick flick by its pink and red cover.

“Lot of things we’ll never have again.”

Ashton pulled the corner of her lip almost all the way to her eye as she cocked her
head to the side and gave him a super-exaggerated wink. “Not the important things
in life.”

“Don’t mock the wink.” X gave her a quick wink. “It works.”

“I know.”

She grabbed him by the wrist and led him to the bedroom.

After she put the movie in and they settled onto the bed, it wasn’t long before X
was asleep. When he came to, his body was inclined against the headboard. The menu
for the movie was still playing, but the remote was out of reach and he didn’t want
to move. Ashton had fallen asleep with her head on his chest, and sometime in the
night had wrapped her arms around his torso. Her pale freckled features stood out
against his dark, hardened traits. After being awake in that position for half an
hour, he decided to wake her, even though he didn’t want to. The alarm clock read
11:00
; the day was already getting away from them.

“You know something?” Ashton said, not opening her eyes.

“What’s that?” He ran a hand over her back in a conditioned response, but quickly
pulled away when his brain registered what he was doing.

“You reek.”

“Smoke?”

“Basted in sweat.”

“No point in a shower. We’ve got a lot to do today.”

“Another night?”

“Another night. I’ll make breakfast, you search the house. Get your butt moving.”

“Try not to watch it,” she said, giving him the exaggerated wink.

___________

Ashton drove a black pickup, which she had been referring to as ‘our truck,’ into
the
driveway of the house. When they had first set out looting, the word ‘our’ was like
nails on a chalkboard to X, but by the end of the day, the concept had grown on him.

X could definitely get used to the Primal Age. It was a thief’s paradise. All the
goods, none of the guards—life was grand.

He stretched his legs out in the passenger seat. When he was a child, his mother
was hardly ever around, and his father was nothing more than a sperm donor to him.
Much of his youth had been spent playing make-believe. His favorite game was Last
Man on the Planet. Today reminded him of those days, but better, because he wasn’t
alone. It had been a nearly fun day. Nearly. There had been many houses where they
would find a dead person still lying under the sheets. No signs of pain, no signs
of struggle; just like someone flipped an off switch. They looked so peaceful it
unnerved him.

He pushed the button on the garage door–opener fastened to the gray visor. Those
dead bodies were nothing compared to some of the rooms he had found. There was one
in particular which would never leave his memory.

He went into that room first and didn’t let Ashton in after him. There were three
bodies in the master bedroom: the mother, who had been a survivor, and her two children.
The children each had a bullet wound to the chest. The mother’s legs, sticking out
from a pink robe, had been clawed and bitten. She was propped against the wall, the
drawer to the nightstand still open, a snub-nosed revolver in her hand, and the back
of her head spread against the wall. The scene broke his heart: A mother forced to
kill her own children to survive then unable to live with her decision.

After that, X checked all the rooms. When he found other rooms like the one with
the mother, he would close the door, and Ashton didn’t question him. They had been
concerned about finding survivors or foamers, but it was clear that anything that
had the ability to leave town was long gone. Doors were left open in most of the
homes, and anywhere windows were broken it was from the inside.

Even with all of that going on, X still had fun. He knew he may have been seriously
miswired, but today he didn’t care. This redheaded, spunk-filled firecracker sitting
beside him made everything fun. She constantly picked on him, continually flirted,
and even respected him.

They had filled the truck bed to the top with luggage containing food. It had been
a successful day in the world of thieving.

“What’s for dinner?” Ashton asked, pushing her door open.

X opened his door and climbed out. “Any requests?”

Ashton hit the button to close the garage door as the two of them walked into the
kitchen. The room was shaded by the fading light of the evening, but they had decided
it was best to keep the lights off unless they needed them. She had found candles
for them to use once night settled. With the two of them working together and taking
care of each other, he wondered if this was what a normal relationship felt like.

“Surprise me,” she replied.

He pulled the leather strap of his gun belt clear of the latch, set it on the table,
and then added his hat to the pile.

“You look better as a cowboy,” Ashton said, walking out of the room. The moment she
was out of sight, X grabbed the hat and fitted it on his head.

Twisting the plastic knobs, he turned on the stove burners. He opened the fridge
and browsed the shelves. That’s when he saw the yellow Styrofoam and plastic–wrapped
slab of hamburger meat. The date on the meat was the same day the vaccine went public.
For the first time all day he felt like a thief, knowing that this was supposed to
be a family dinner that never happened. He didn’t want to let it go to waste, though,
and continued to find ingredients. In the dairy drawer, he found a block of Colby
jack cheese. This was the beginning of a good meal.

He searched through the cupboards until he found a deep pan, which he set on the
stove while adding a splash of olive oil from in the pantry. His chest puffed full
of air as he took a deep breath, dropping the hamburger into the pan. The sizzle
had him hungry already.

Back at the fridge, he slid out the vegetable drawer and pulled out two bell peppers.
He set the peppers on the table along with the block of cheese. Pulling a paring
knife from the holder, he felt a pang of sadness as he sliced the skin of the pepper.
This was their last night in the house. Tomorrow they would set out for Houghton,
and who knew what would happen to their bond when they arrived. He liked how things
were going, but Kade was protective enough to make a hawk look like a bad parent.
X didn’t even know if he would be able to stand living there. Mick, Lucas, and Victoria
weren’t bad people, but he couldn’t handle how all three of them looked down their
noses at him. Maybe Ashton would make it different, but Kade might toss X out on
his ass for even thinking about having feelings for his little sister. X would make
sure she arrived safely as planned, but after that, he had no commitment to the cohort.

He sliced the plastic wrap off the cheese and pushed the blade down with both hands
to cut it into thin slices. The sharp screech of the fire alarm smashed his thoughts.
He jumped out of his chair with such force that he knocked it to the floor as he
scrambled to the stove. With one hand, he lifted the pan from the burner, the muscles
in his forearm flexing as he supported the weight, and he snatched a wooden spoon
with the other hand. He scraped the meat with the spoon, while the fire alarm blared.

Ashton sprinted into the kitchen, planted herself beneath the alarm, and did a two-footed
jump. Her fingers clung to the cheap plastic before her weight tore it from the ceiling.
She curled the alarm against her belly, tore the lid off with her free hand, and
popped the battery out.

“Can’t I leave you alone for a few minutes?” she said. Her dirty clothes were replaced
with a knee-length black-and-white sundress. Her usual braid was undone and her
hair hung around her shoulders.

“Playing dress up?”

“I thought it looked nice,” Ashton said, holding his gaze and swaying just slightly.
He smiled the stupid smile, knowing she was fishing for confirmation.

“You look great.”

She let out a sigh and leaned against the corner of the table. X set the pan on the
burner. He went to the table and reached past her to grab the cutting board. Their
bodies were inches apart, so close he could feel her breath on his skin. She moved
into him, intentionally brushing her bare arm across his. He spun away from her and
scraped the peppers and cheese into the pan, mixing them with the spoon. He knew
he couldn’t let any of his thoughts breathe. If they found life, he wouldn’t be able
to maintain his resistance efforts.

She clenched her jaw, forcing her frustration through her teeth as she retrieved
a beer.

“I see you put the hat back on.”

X kept his eyes on the pan, forcing the want from his mind.

She leaned against the counter beside the stove, facing in the opposite direction.

“Just like to be badass, or is there some sort of story?”

“I’m far from badass,” he replied, stirring the pan.

She took a swig from her can. “Right, you don’t try to emanate ‘don’t mess with me.’”

“I don’t try.”

“Is there a story or not?”

He reached blindly for the fridge, but retracted his hand when he touched Ashton’s
arm.

“Would you grab the hot sauce, please?”

She rolled her eyes and swung the door open. After she handed him the hot sauce,
she slammed the fridge rattling everything on the shelves.

He twisted the cap off and splashed the sauce into the pan.

“My mother bought me a white hat when I was a kid, told me to always be the good
guy. When I started being the bad guy, it just seemed fitting.”

“You’ve never told me what you actually did for a living.”

He shifted the pan off of the hot burner. “Food’s ready.”

He found them two plates and some hoagie rolls. The rolls were a little harder than
he wanted, but they would do. He sliced open the bread and spooned in the meat.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, but she never looked at him. Part of him wanted
to tell her anything she wanted to know, but he knew that when they reached Houghton,
their time would end. It would be hard enough to see her go. The thought of their
dynamic changing robbed him of all appetite, but he continued eating to stay in
her presence.

“When did Damian end things with Victoria?” he asked, trying to redirect Ashton’s
frustration with him.

“When he took the new research job.” Her head tipped so he couldn’t see her eyes.

He chewed, trying to find any topic that might draw her out. He set his hoagie back
on the plate and brushed off his hands.

“I hear she picked a fight and you won.”

She took her attention away from her sandwich and made eye contact with him. “A fight
would mean she had a chance.”

He sat back, crossing his arms. The stupid smile came back; he had hooked her. “What
happened?”

“She showed up at Kade’s doorstep, demanding to know why Damian left her. She got
violent. Kade wouldn’t hit a girl, but I don’t let bitches hit my brother.” Ashton
grinned as she gazed off. X knew the look. She was reliving the moment.

“Which one of you is the protective one, again?”

“Do you think he’s okay?” she asked.

He didn’t know. No matter how much Kade had planned for this type of situation, and
no matter how much he was the leading expert on apocalypses, bad luck was still a
bitch. History was full of instances where external factors changed the course of
the world.

“We’ll find out tomorrow,” X said, placing both elbows on the table and lifting his
sandwich.

“X?” Ashton asked. He found himself staring into her emerald eyes. “Is it bad that
I’m not upset that this happened? I mean, I feel bad for all the people who died,
but I worked my entire life to be this elite soccer player, and then one bad juke
and it all disappeared. Eighteen years of work, gone in one second. I felt like I
wasted my life, but now I’m useful again.”

He finished the last bite of the hoagie. “Life is all about perspective.”

“So, it’s not bad that I feel okay?”

He leaned across the table. “How many of those people cared when you tore your Achilles?
Or would have cared had you been hit by a car? Care about those who care about you.
Don’t burden yourself with the rest, or you’ll go crazy.”

Ashton smiled at him as she left the table. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I’m going to take a shower,” she said, walking to the hallway. She placed her hand
on the wall, and looked over her shoulder. “The door will be unlocked.”

X sat at the table long after the shower started. He wished that she could be anyone
but Kade’s little sister. This was a whole new world, though. Maybe Kade wouldn’t
be upset; after all, he did send Ashton with X. Kade probably knew she had feelings
for X. Perhaps he wanted X and Ashton to become more than friends. He laughed at
that thought, but he couldn’t deny what he wanted.

He pushed away from the table and hurried down the hallway. His hand wrapped around
the bathroom doorknob and he placed his forehead against the door. The fan droned
above the sound of running water. The warm mist escaped under the door, and he inhaled
it deep into his lungs. Turning the knob gently enough to avoid the click of the
door, he inched it open until he could see the mirror. The reflection showed the
silhouette of Ashton in the shower. She arched her back into the water as she soaked
her hair in the stream.

His hand shook, rattling the knob. He silently shut the door and rushed back to the
bedroom. The bed squeaked as he dropped down onto the mattress. He stared at his
shaking hands like they were a stranger’s. The shakes, the fucking shakes—he didn’t
get the shakes. The shakes were for nerds and losers. He had nerves of steel; it
was necessary in his line of work, and that same confidence had always made him just
as effective with women.

All of a sudden, his hands stopped shaking. His neck muscles tensed, pulling his
ears flat. Beat by beat, his heart slowed. Something was in the house. Closing his
eyes, he turned an ear toward the doorway.

His hand passed by his side, where it should have found the grip of his pistol. The
jeans were missing his weapon’s belt. His weapons were still on the kitchen table,
and he realized he didn’t check to make sure the windows of the house were locked.
With his attention on how he felt for Ashton, his normal survival instincts were
suffering.

He grabbed Ashton’s butcher knife from the dresser, and hurried for the kitchen.
Skidding to a stop at the landing, he saw three foamers ascending the stairs. Two
of them were large, bearded men; the third was a small boy. All three were clad in
hunter’s orange coats and baggy camo pants. The similar facial features made it
clear that it was an uncle, father, and son. Their faces were masked with blood.

X threw his body into the bathroom and flipped the lock.

The knife clattered into the sink as he threw back the shower curtain. His train
of thought completely derailed at the reveal of Ashton’s naked body. His eyes followed
the running water down her wide shoulders, over her perky breasts, between her muscle-lined
legs.

“Wondered when you’d get here,” she said.

He pointed three times at the door as gibberish poured out of his mouth.

“People,” he finally spit out. “Three of them in the kitchen.”

“People or foamers?” she asked, shutting off the water.

Her foot clipped the lip of the tub and she stumbled into X’s arms as her wet body
landed against him. Her moist skin soaked his shirt as her hair whipped all around
him. He held her as she regained her footing. She bent down, all of the bumps of
her spine standing out, as she snatched her dress and pulled it on.