Positive (35 page)

 

CHAPTER 100

I
nside the Food Queen was darkness and cool air, and row after row after row of shelves standing silent and frozen in time. That didn't last. To be honest, we made a mess of the place.

Positives ran up and down the aisles, pushing each other around in shopping carts, shouting with joy. They kicked over the standing displays of fresh food that had long since rotted away to husks and leathery rinds. They swarmed back through the meat department into the stockrooms. Most of them, though, crowded into the canned food aisles, where shelf after shelf of preserved food stood waiting for them, every can lined up with its label pointed outward. Every can was a little treasure.

I used my knife to pop open can after can of peaches in syrup, of corn in water, of soups of every description. Some of the cans had rusted until their contents had leaked and dried out. Some had swollen up so much they burst, and their precious food was lost. But most of them, the vast majority, were still intact. Positives pointed out the “Best Used By” dates on the cans and laughed to think of times so long ago when ­people could be picky about freshness and tore open the cans anyway and crammed the food in their mouths, barely taking the time to chew.

Even the disciples of the skeleton idol cried with joy. Even the grumblers rushed up to slap me on the back and tell me what a hell of a job I was doing. The woman with the dreadlocks just kept shaking her head, but her face was split by an enormous smile. “I doubted you,” she kept saying. “I'm sorry I doubted you.”

I'd gotten lucky—­far luckier than I deserved—­and I started to protest, to say I couldn't take the credit, that I didn't make the Food Queen appear, but Ike pulled me hastily aside and told me to shut up. “Everybody knows that,” he said, “but you don't have to remind them.” He had a can of creamed spinach in his hand, and he shoved green goo in my mouth and I nearly choked as I laughed.

I did my best to stay in charge of the party. “Don't eat so much you get sick,” I told ­people. “This haul has to last us a long time.” But it was no use. The ­people had been hungry for so long they wouldn't stop now. Eventually I gave up and just walked the aisles, giving a word of encouragement here, sharing a bit of excitement there.

In one aisle, a ­couple of positives had set up some empty plastic barrels and made drums of them, beating out a wild and exuberant rhythm. Some women were dancing around them, swaying their hips, lifting their hands in the air. I joined in, and everybody laughed as I tried to keep up with the dancers.

In another aisle, a group of positives had set up some folding tables and had constructed something resembling a family meal, with bowls full of food and even plastic forks and knives, napkins, salt and pepper shakers . . . it looked so much like something from my lost youth in New York I wept a bit. They asked me to join them and say grace, and I was happy to oblige.

Eventually, when the clamorous riot had settled down to a contented rumble, I climbed up on one of the checkout lanes, up where just about everyone could see me. The dark was lit by flickering candles and I could see all their faces, peering up at me. Luke climbed up far enough to hand me a lit candle of my own, so I could be illuminated as I made my big speech.

Except—­this wasn't a time for a speech. It was time for celebration. I didn't need to rouse these ­people, not that night. I needed to give them something. A reward for freeing themselves, and staying free.

So I kept it simple. “Eat up, folks. Enjoy. We'll sleep here tonight, indoors for once.” There was a great deal of cheering at that. “And tomorrow . . .” I thought for a moment. “No, tomorrow we'll stay here, too. No walking tomorrow!”

That got me a round of applause, a thunderous noise of hands slapping together. They loved the idea of being off their feet, if only for a while.

When I climbed back down, Kylie was waiting for me. She took my hand and led me to one side of the store, through aisles of glass cookware and kitchen gadgets, few of which I understood. No one else had bothered to go back there since there was no food to be had. Kylie led me farther, to a door that opened on a tiny office that must have once belonged to the store's manager. She closed the door behind us and locked it. I set my candle carefully on the desk, propping it up so it wouldn't fall over and start a fire.

Then I turned around and saw that Kylie was sitting on a wide couch up against one wall. She chewed on her lip as she watched me, waiting for me to do something. I wasn't entirely sure what she had in mind.

“Adare never kissed me,” she said. “Not once. Kissing's okay.”

I moved over to the couch and sat down next to her, feeling more nervous than I had ever felt while looting a zombie-­infested suburb. I had no idea what I was doing, but I really, really wanted to do this. I put a hand on her hip, but she picked it up and moved it away. I touched her face and that seemed to be okay.

I kissed her gently, and she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me close and kissed me harder. For a long time we did just that, just kissing, and it was innocent until it wasn't anymore, until it grew passionate and wild and I kissed her neck, kissed her throat, kissed the top of her chest—­

I felt her tense up. I'd gone too far. I'd triggered her—­reminded her of something Adare had done once, or some other man who'd seen her as nothing but a doll to play with, a doll that didn't even scream when you squeezed it too hard. I jumped back, away from her, horrified of what I'd done. “I'm sorry,” I said. “I'm so sorry—­Kylie, forgive me, I—­”

“Shut up,” she said. She was breathing very heavily. She stared at the floor, her hands hovering in front of her. Shaking. “Let me—­let me do this, because—­because I have to. If we're ever going to be.” She shook her head. “I wanted us to pretend to be a family, once. Remember?”

“I do,” I said.

“I wanted us to pretend to be married. Except I didn't want to just pretend. And if it's ever going to be real, I have to let you . . . do things to me. You want to, don't you? I mean, I'm not ugly to you?”

She reached up and touched the scar across the bridge of her nose.

I took her hand, pulled it away. Then I leaned in and kissed the scar. Her eyes fluttered closed.

Then she reached down and unbuttoned her shirt. Unhooked her bra. She lifted out one of her breasts and put a hand on the back of my head, pushing my lips down, down until they touched her breast. I kissed her nipple and felt it harden in my mouth.

It only lasted a moment. She pulled me away—­not too fast—­and covered herself up again. “That was good. Gentle,” she said. “Finn, you'll always be gentle with me, won't you? I need that. I need you to be . . . careful with me.”

“I promise,” I told her.

“And I promise that next time, we can do a little more. A little at a time. Do you think you can wait? We'll get there. We'll get there together.”

“Of course.”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around me and held me close. “I don't want to be dead inside anymore. I want to be like you. But it's dangerous.”

“I'll protect you,” I told her. “Just like you've protected me.”

“Sleep with me tonight. Okay? Not—­you know, not—­”

“I know,” I told her. “We'll just sleep.”

And so we did.

 

CHAPTER 101

I
woke in Kylie's arms the next morning. I thought I'd heard a noise outside the little office, a commotion of some kind, so I disentangled myself from her still-­sleeping form and went out to take a look. A lot of the positives were crowded in the back of the store, clutching at one another, while others—­mostly the young men—­were up front, by the big plate-­glass windows that were the only source of light in the Food Queen. So many of them were near the window I couldn't see what was going on.

I elbowed my way through the crowd to get a look and recoiled at what I saw. A zombie was pushed up against the window, smearing its greasy body against the glass. Its long hair was bleached by the sun, and its eyes burned a dull and mindless red. It had been so long since I'd seen a zombie that I'd forgotten how gut-­churningly awful they were. Human, in all but mind. A terrible perversion of what we could be.

“Everyone get back,” I said, pushing at the air with my hands. “You're just encouraging it.”

The zombie licked at the glass and tried to scratch its way through with its fingernails. I didn't want to look at it. I didn't want it to exist. “It can't hurt us in here—­just, everyone, get back.”

Some of the positives obeyed me. More than I'd expected, frankly. That just gave others a chance to move in for a better look.

The thing was naked, its skin covered in sores and blisters and patches of terrible sunburn. It looked like it couldn't hurt a fly. We would have to deal with it when we left, but for the moment I was willing to just let it bump harmlessly against the glass.

Ike, on the other hand, was less patient. Maybe he was just bored—­he hadn't killed anything in a while. He came forward, holding his assault rifle over his head. It was the only firearm we had—­the only weapon other than knives. The crowd parted for him and made a wide clearing around the gun. “Give me some room,” he said. “I got this.”

I looked out the window, and in the split second before he fired I said, “Wait, Ike, don't—­” But it was far too late.

His rifle sputtered three times with a noise that filled the entire Food Queen. Three red holes appeared in the zombie's forehead and it slumped to the ground. At the same time the entire windowpane shattered in a trillion tiny cubes of glass that spilled out across the floor like chipped ice. Positives laughed as they danced back, away from the glass. Hot air billowed into the cavernous store.

“—­there's more,” I finished. I pointed out at the parking lot.

Where maybe fifty more zombies were already staggering toward that giant hole in the glass front of the Food Queen.

“I think they heard that,” Ike said, his eyes wide.

Then he opened up with his rifle, the muzzle flare blinding me as he shot into the oncoming wave of once-­human flesh. I took my knife out of my belt, knowing that he couldn't get all of them.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw the positives behind me, climbing over one another in their desperation to get away from the windows. I looked over at Ike in time to see him fire his last shot. We were still facing more zombies than my panicked mind could count.

“Go find another weapon. There were kitchen knives in aisle twenty-­seven,” I told Ike.

“They'll be all over you like flies on puke in a minute,” he said.

“Then get something to help me fight them off with,” I spat at him. He didn't waste any more time but ran for the aisle. I stepped forward, over the broken glass, thinking I would plug the hole in the windows with my own body if I had to.

I didn't even think of expecting reinforcements from the positives behind me. The vast majority of them had lived in cities all their lives until they came to the camp. They'd probably never seen more than a ­couple of zombies, much less fought any. Even the bosses, who were used to violence, had only ever fought humans, and then with their fists. What was coming my way was a lot bloodier than what they knew.

I had little time to think. The zombies were on me in seconds, and it was all I could do to slash and stab at them, to push them back as they tried to squeeze in through the broken window. Blood splattered all over me as I cut and hacked, as hands reached in to grab me, as teeth gnashed at my hands and face. They cared nothing for pain, recoiling when I cut them only out of instinct. Nothing would stop them from coming in, nothing could hold them back for long.

Then one of them grabbed me by the throat, and I couldn't breathe. I could feel its ragged nails digging into the skin of my neck. I could barely see as black spots danced in my vision. I lashed out blindly with the knife but connected with nothing but air.
This is it,
I thought.
This is the end—­

—­except Ike returned just then, with a massive meat cleaver in his hand. It must have come from the Food Queen's butcher shop, and it was made for nothing but cutting through bone and muscle tissue. It took the zombie's hand clean off at the wrist, and suddenly I was free. I stumbled back, and the horde of zombies came pushing in, through the window now, but Ike slashed and chopped all around him in a flurry of steel, and once I'd had a moment to catch my breath, I jumped in too, not even bothering to get up, just jabbing and slashing at the zombies' legs.

Still, it wasn't enough. One of the zombies got through, climbing over the mutilated bodies of its fellows. It leapt over our heads and headed for the biggest supply of meat it could find—­the positives in the back of the store.

“We can't let it get them,” I shouted at Ike.

“So go—­I'll hold these,” he told me.

I nodded and scrambled to my feet. I couldn't see the zombie in the gloom of the store's interior, but I could hear screaming and I ran toward it, my knife out at my side where I wouldn't stab myself with it if I tripped and fell.

Back in aisle fifteen the positives had set up a sleeping area, and I dashed over their scattered blankets, kicked through their possessions in my haste. The screaming came from my left then, and I ran that way. Up ahead, I saw my ­people running in every direction at once. In the middle of the crowd stood the zombie, its hands clutching at a woman in a blue shirt. I raced forward and planted my knife deep in its back, low, below the rib cage. I must have struck its liver, because it went down instantly.

“Clear!” I heard Ike shout from the front of the store.

“What?” I called back, unbelieving.

“They're all down,” he said, coming around the side of the aisle. “You got yours?” He looked down at the dead zombie on the floor. “Yeah, I guess you did. Fuck yeah! What a goddamn team we make, huh, Finn? We got 'em, you son of a bitch! We got every last one of—­”

“Excuse me,” the woman in the blue shirt said. “I'm sorry, but—­”

She was holding up her arm. The zombie had taken a sizable bite out of it, leaving a gushing red wound. Suddenly she went very pale, and her eyes fluttered shut as she fainted to the ground.