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Authors: M. Lauryl Lewis
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upstairs,” he said, keeping his voice down. “Can you stand?”
“I don’t think so. He kicked me Gus. It hurts so bad inside.”
“Ok, darlin’, I’ll need to carry you. It might hurt but you have to stay quiet as a mouse.”
“Is he dead?” she asked.
“As a door nail.”
“Thank God.”
I headed toward the stairs, sensing the Roamers desperately stirring about outside. The ones who had fed the most had a renewed sense of energy and were ready for more. As Gus lifted Bobby into his arms, she winced. She held him tightly as he ascended the stairway with her. I followed close behind.
“Zoe, I’m giving Bobby the bed. Will you be ok on the bean bag?”
“Ya. Don’t worry about me.”
Gus grunted as he set Bobby down on the small bed. “I’m worried about you both. Fuck, darlin’, did he…”
I knew exactly what he was asking from his mind, rather than his words.
“No. You got there in time.”
“Why didn’t one of you call out sooner?”
I looked at him in the candle light like he was daft. “We didn’t want him killing you.”
He ran a hand through his already messy hair. He looked pissed.
“We’ll talk more later. Grab that bottle of scotch that Bobby found?”
“Sure.” I searched through her backpack and found it quickly. It was nearly full.
Gus took it from me and walked with it to Bobby.
“Bobby, go ahead and drink a few swigs. It’ll help with the pain.”
He lifted her head with one hand, and held the bottle up for her with the other. “I think I’m dying,” she moaned quietly.
“Nah. You’ll be ok,” he said gently. I knew he was lying to her.
I walked to the bed and sat beside her, worried. She looked so tired and so pale. I held onto one of her hands. A tear fell from the corner of her eye. She tried to take a drink of the scotch, but promptly choked on it. The liquid spilled onto her chin and down her neck.
Gus wiped the liquor off of her face the best he could and stroked her forehead with the back of his hand. “Sleep, Bobby. We’ll be right here, darlin’.”
I looked at him questioningly. He shook his head side to side a couple of times. Bobby’s eyes closed and he set her head back down on the pillow. He hand went limp in my own.
“She’s gone,” he whispered.
“What do you mean?” I asked, knowing full well that she was dead.
“Zoe, I need you to go wait on the other side of the room for a few minutes.”
I placed her limp arm over her abdomen, stood, and bent down to kiss her still-warm cheek. I walked to the small area rug where we had just all shared Pepsi and Pringles only hours before. I listened as Gus rummaged through his pack. The metal tools inside clanked against each other. Moments later, I heard the sound of one of them cracking through Bobby’s skull, followed by the sickening sloppy sound of it being pulled back out. Gus had saved her from ever turning into one of the living dead.
“Ya, but I wasn't able to save her,” he echoed my though.
He walked to me and I wrapped my arms around him. “What happened?”
“I suspect it was internal bleeding. That bastard beat her to death.”
I could feel his sadness and his anger, as well as his love for me.
CHAPTER 7
After Bobby died, Gus covered her in the blanket from the bed. The dead were growing in numbers outside, but most were still concentrated around the body in the backyard. When we heard them thumping against the kitchen door, we decided it was time to leave. We gathered what supplies we could carry, leaving only a few items behind. We removed the rug from the window and climbed onto the porch roof that was right outside. There were a couple of slow Roamers in the street out front.
“Think we can outrun them?” I asked in a hushed whisper. My side was still hurting me, but I didn’t want to let Gus know.
“I think we’d be better off getting rid of them. Otherwise they’ll follow us and bring the rest of the bastards with.” He paused a moment to
“I don’t think so. He kicked me Gus. It hurts so bad inside.”
“Ok, darlin’, I’ll need to carry you. It might hurt but you have to stay quiet as a mouse.”
“Is he dead?” she asked.
“As a door nail.”
“Thank God.”
I headed toward the stairs, sensing the Roamers desperately stirring about outside. The ones who had fed the most had a renewed sense of energy and were ready for more. As Gus lifted Bobby into his arms, she winced. She held him tightly as he ascended the stairway with her. I followed close behind.
“Zoe, I’m giving Bobby the bed. Will you be ok on the bean bag?”
“Ya. Don’t worry about me.”
Gus grunted as he set Bobby down on the small bed. “I’m worried about you both. Fuck, darlin’, did he…”
I knew exactly what he was asking from his mind, rather than his words.
“No. You got there in time.”
“Why didn’t one of you call out sooner?”
I looked at him in the candle light like he was daft. “We didn’t want him killing you.”
He ran a hand through his already messy hair. He looked pissed.
“We’ll talk more later. Grab that bottle of scotch that Bobby found?”
“Sure.” I searched through her backpack and found it quickly. It was nearly full.
Gus took it from me and walked with it to Bobby.
“Bobby, go ahead and drink a few swigs. It’ll help with the pain.”
He lifted her head with one hand, and held the bottle up for her with the other. “I think I’m dying,” she moaned quietly.
“Nah. You’ll be ok,” he said gently. I knew he was lying to her.
I walked to the bed and sat beside her, worried. She looked so tired and so pale. I held onto one of her hands. A tear fell from the corner of her eye. She tried to take a drink of the scotch, but promptly choked on it. The liquid spilled onto her chin and down her neck.
Gus wiped the liquor off of her face the best he could and stroked her forehead with the back of his hand. “Sleep, Bobby. We’ll be right here, darlin’.”
I looked at him questioningly. He shook his head side to side a couple of times. Bobby’s eyes closed and he set her head back down on the pillow. He hand went limp in my own.
“She’s gone,” he whispered.
“What do you mean?” I asked, knowing full well that she was dead.
“Zoe, I need you to go wait on the other side of the room for a few minutes.”
I placed her limp arm over her abdomen, stood, and bent down to kiss her still-warm cheek. I walked to the small area rug where we had just all shared Pepsi and Pringles only hours before. I listened as Gus rummaged through his pack. The metal tools inside clanked against each other. Moments later, I heard the sound of one of them cracking through Bobby’s skull, followed by the sickening sloppy sound of it being pulled back out. Gus had saved her from ever turning into one of the living dead.
“Ya, but I wasn't able to save her,” he echoed my though.
He walked to me and I wrapped my arms around him. “What happened?”
“I suspect it was internal bleeding. That bastard beat her to death.”
I could feel his sadness and his anger, as well as his love for me.
CHAPTER 7
After Bobby died, Gus covered her in the blanket from the bed. The dead were growing in numbers outside, but most were still concentrated around the body in the backyard. When we heard them thumping against the kitchen door, we decided it was time to leave. We gathered what supplies we could carry, leaving only a few items behind. We removed the rug from the window and climbed onto the porch roof that was right outside. There were a couple of slow Roamers in the street out front.
“Think we can outrun them?” I asked in a hushed whisper. My side was still hurting me, but I didn’t want to let Gus know.
“I think we’d be better off getting rid of them. Otherwise they’ll follow us and bring the rest of the bastards with.” He paused a moment to
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