Moriah (31 page)

A stain, marking the wood of the wall and floor beneath the window seat, spoke to the liquefaction of bodily tissue, to the disintegration of the body upon death. Whatever stink had accompanied her decomposition was long dissipated, the windows in the bedroom open.

Riley gazed down on the caged zombies. “They were her family.”

“What do you think happened to her?” asked Dee.

“She died.”

“Well,” Kevin said as he looked the corpse over, “she wasn’t bit.” He said what they were all thinking. “If she’d been bit, she’d be roaming the house, not slumped over here at the window.”

Who had she been, Riley wondered. A mother? Wife? Daughter? What were her hopes, what were her dreams? Staring out at her family… Had she borne hope for them, or were her last moments given to despair?

“Riley.” Kevin was talking to her. “Give me a hand.” He’d pulled a floorcloth over. Riley rifled through her pack, looking for something to cover her hands with before they touched her. She dropped a speedloader for her Taurus and it rolled across the wooden floor.

“I’ve got it,” said Kevin.

“Here.” Dee had stripped cases from the pillows on the bed and tossed them across to Kevin and Riley. They pulled them over their hands and forearms and took the corpse from the window, placing it gently on the oilcloth. They wrapped her up in it and carried the carpet down the stairs.

* * *

“What is this again?” Dee looked at the liquor in his glass, the evening air on the island crisp.

“Mint Juleps.” Kevin had found a sealed bottle of bourbon in the basement and mint leaf in the garden on the side of the house. “Minus the ice, minus the sugar.” They’d settled on wicker chairs on the veranda. Draped with a thin blanket, Kevin had a dog on either side of him, a tall glass in his hand and a very satisfied look on his face. His AK-47 lay across his lap.

“This stuff tastes like…” Dee set the glass down on the table his freshly dressed leg rested on. Earlier, Riley had found a pair of men’s grey sweat pants in a bedroom dresser. Kevin had helped Dee change into them.

“That good?”

“No.”

Kevin chuckled. The old dog looked like it was sleeping. The younger one glanced up at him and then at the full moon, apparently very pleased with the situation.

“What kind of whiskey is in this, Kev?”

“Bourbon.”

“Did it go bad or something?”

“Nah.” Kevin sipped his drink. “This stuff will last forever.”

Dee eyed his glass suspiciously. People used to enjoy this stuff? “Kev?”

“Mmmm.”

“How important is Africa to you, really?”

“Really?” Kevin touched the fresh mint sprig garnishing his glass. “Not at all. Up until about now, I was just thinking we’d catch up to the others, get some help for Bruce.”

“They’re long gone by now.”

“What about you? What about your foot, Dee?”

“Oh, I’ll be all right.”

Riley and Kevin had carted water from the cistern and heated it on a fire. Kevin helped Riley carry water into the house to fill one of the tubs. A bath, Kevin had to admit, sounded like a great idea, but he was exhausted. He’d washed his side and crotch and under his arms.

“Hey, Kev.” Dee fingered the crutch he’d put together out of a mop, a sofa pillow and duct tape.

“I’m here, Dee.”

“Maybe we can stay right here.”

“Right here?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“And what?”

“And heal up. My foot. Your side. Then get Riley back to where she’s from.”

“What about you and me, Dee?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we can check it out ourselves.”

“Check what out?”

“Where Riley’s from.”

“What about where Riley’s from?” She stepped around the veranda, a towel on her head, her hair wet. She was wearing thin cotton pants and a t-shirt she’d found somewhere in the house and had placed a blanket across her shoulders.

“Dee was just saying, maybe we should stay here for awhile, lick our wounds. Then see about getting you back to New Harmony.”

“I was just thinking,” said Dee.

Riley sat down on the couch next to Dee. She inspected the bandages on his foot before picking up his glass, eyeing its contents. “What is this?”

“Bourbon,” answered Kevin.

“Tastes like crap, Riley.”

She sipped from the glass. “It does.” She took another sip. “Is this how it’s supposed to taste?”

Dee looked towards Kevin. “He says it is.”

“It needs ice,” Kevin hastened to add. “And sugar.”

They sat around on the veranda, listening to the night, for a few minutes until Riley said, “You guys have given up on finding the rest of your friends?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘given up,’” explained Kevin. “It just doesn’t seem like the most important thing right now. Crossing the ocean to—where was it again, Dee?”

“Africa.”

“Yeah.” Kevin scoffed. “Africa.”

“I think we should all get a good night’s sleep,” offered Riley, “and talk about what we’re going to do tomorrow. Personally? I’m in no hurry to leave here.”

“Sounds good to me.” Kevin was agreeable. “How are we doing as far as our ammo goes?”

“I’ve got six in my Python and eighteen loose rounds.”

“I’ve got a full mag in the AR. Five in my revolver.”

“And I’ve got this magazine,” Kevin tapped the banana clip in his AK, “and one other. Oh yeah, Riley, I put your speedloader up on the bureau in my room.”

“Thanks, Kevin. I’ll get it later.”

“You’re welcome.” It took Kevin a little longer than usual to get up out of his chair. The drink. The fatigue. “I’m going to go sit down over there.” He nodded towards a rocker on the far end of the veranda. The young dog rolled off its back and onto its feet, rubbing its head against his side. “Sleep for a little while out here, I’m thinking.” Kevin slung his AK over one shoulder and reached down with the hand that wasn’t holding his glass, petting the dog between her ears.

“Don’t freeze out here,” Dee told him.

“I won’t freeze.” Kevin had his blanket and his dogs.

Riley wished him a good night. Kevin walked off with the younger dog at his side. The old dog did not stir beside the chair he’d vacated.

Riley sipped at the cocktail before holding the glass up for Dee. He took a drink and turned his head so she wouldn’t see him blanch.

“You really like that stuff?” he asked her.

“Not one bit.”

“Then why are you drinking it?”

“It’s chilly.”

“Come here.”

She was already sitting next to him. She scooted under the arm he lifted. Dee held her and she felt good. She offered him the mint julep and he took a sip. It didn’t taste nearly as awful this time.

“Doesn’t this feel right to you, Dee?”

“What—this place?”

“Yeah.
Us
, being here.”

He knew exactly what she meant and it did.

“Riley, this is the closest I’ve ever felt to home, whatever that means. You. Me. Kevin. This place. You had a house in New Harmony you grew up in?”

She told him she had.

“I didn’t. We were always on the move. Always.”

“Can we stay here forever, Dee?”

He looked pleased. They sat together and shared the drink, Kevin’s back to them in the rocker, the chair swaying back and forth slightly.

Dee looked down at Riley and she was looking back up at him. “Not tired?”

“No, I am. But I can’t sleep.” He waited for her to offer a reason and she did. “I see her in my dreams.”

“Who?”

“The red-haired one.”

“She’s dead, Riley.”

“I know.” Her head was on his shoulder.

“So. Glad we got off the boat?”

“Would you quit?”

“This moment…” He smiled at her. “If I could keep this and preserve it, just like it is, I would. Forever.”

“Forever?”

When he leaned down and kissed her, she kissed him back.

“Forever,” he said, lowering his head to hers again.

Sometime later they pulled their mouths away from one another, both looking towards Kevin at the end of the veranda. His back was still to them and his chair was still. The old dog had opened an eye and was watching them interestedly, swishing its tail slowly across the veranda floor.

Dee looked at his home-made crutch.

“Help me inside?” he asked Riley.

“Get up, you!”

* * *

The first sheen of dawn was paling the windows when Dee stirred. Riley slept faithfully at his side, and he leaned over, kissing her on her forehead. He got out of bed as quietly as he could with his injured foot and dressed. Riley had found more clothes in some drawers elsewhere in the house, leaving them for him on the three-drawer dresser next to the bed they’d shared.

He pulled on a long-sleeved fleece pajama top and bottom, glad for the warmth this fall morning. The pajama top smelled old going on over his head and he supposed it was. He would see about washing it later on today, about finding some more clothes. He had the sweatpants from the night before for a second pair, but taking them on and off involved two people with his leg splinted. Dee wrapped the belly-band around his midsection, outside his pajama top, fastening the Velcro. He checked the cylinder on his revolver out of habit before stuffing it deep into the elastic.

He took the Oakley Medusa from the table with the arch mirror and fit it to his head. He knew he looked outrageous in the thing, but it brought him comfort.

Pausing before he left the room, Dee looked at Riley. She was so pretty there, her head on the pillow, the butt of her own revolver poking out from under the cushion. Dee grinned and told himself what a lucky man he was.

In the hallway, on his makeshift crutch, Dee saw that the door to Kevin’s bedroom was open. No one appeared to be in there. The stairs creaked under Dee’s feet and crutch. He paused to balance himself on the intermediate landing. At the bottom of the stairwell, dull light seeped into the house through the side windows that flanked the front double doors.

He found Kevin standing on the veranda, next to the chair he’d originally sat in last night. The butt of his AK was on the seat of the chair and his hand was on the foregrip. On the table was the bottle of bourbon, half empty. The rocking chair faced away from them at the end of the veranda, into the rising sun. The young dog was nowhere to be seen, but the older one sat sheepishly at Kevin’s side, obviously bothered.

“You’re up early.” Dee carried Riley’s AR, taken from the umbrella stand.

“Thought I heard something.” Concern hovered in Kevin’s voice. “Heard something again.” He appeared relieved to see Dee; they both knew what had happened the last time Kevin thought he’d heard something. “Maybe I’m just paranoid.”

“Where’s the other dog?”

“That’s what I was wondering.”

“The zombies?”

“Still there.” Kev gestured towards that side of the house. “First thing I checked.”

“You sleep out here last night?” Dee crossed his arms over his chest.

“I did.” The lone dog glanced up and licked Kevin’s hand. “Almost froze my ass off, too. Nice jammies, by the way.”

“Thanks. Think I’ll take a walk. Go check things out.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No. Stay here. Riley’s still asleep.”

“You’re in no shape with that foot, Dee. Stick around.”

“No. I want to check it out.”

“It feels different, Dee. You feel it?”

“Yeah. That’s why I want to take a look.”

“Dee.”

“Kevin?”

“Think.”

“About?”

“The battle with Tris. Burning Man. Yesterday with that thing. What do they all have in common?”

“I don’t know. We killed a lot of motherfuckers?”

“Morning, Dee. Each happened in the morning.”

“Which means?”

“Probably nothing, but…”

“If I stand here any longer you just might freak me out, Kev. I’m going to go, take a look. I need you I’ll let you know.”

Dee hobbled off the porch on his crutch, grimacing anew each time he put his weight on his foot. At the bottom of the stairs, Kevin hailed him.

“What’s that, Kev?”

“Dee. Be careful out there. Something ain’t right.”

“Okay.” Dee looked ahead to the palms and the beach past them. “Hey. That thing on the dock… There’s no way it could have survived, is there?”

Kevin kind’ve laughed. “Now we both sound paranoid.”

“Nothing wrong being careful.” Dee drew the Python, held it up and dipped the barrel, the AR across his back.

Kevin waved as Dee disappeared into the trees. He reached down—“That’s a good girl”—and patted the old dog on her head. “You’re okay.”