Suspending Reality (15 page)

He hesitated a moment before answering. I could see his emotions on his face, playing out like a film, right before my very eyes. He felt guilty, but at the same time he also felt it was his responsibility to take on the lion’s share of work. “It’s okay. I’ve never claimed there isn’t any blood on my hands. I’m probably everything you said and more, but it’s what I’ve had to do to stay alive and defend the city…to survive.”

I cocked a brow. “We’re cool then?” I asked, knowing we’d just about reached our limit of sentimental, emotional talk.

He gave me a fist bump. “Yup, little brother. Cool as ice.”

As we took a quick walk around the house, I noticed two four-by-four Jeep Wranglers in the back yard. “They’re perfect! I love Jeeps, man. It’s the perfect go-anywhere, do-anything vehicle.”

“No off-roading, Dean,” Nick said. “We don’t want to give the zombies an advantage over us. We stay on open, paved roads. Got it?”

I nodded.

My brother’s gaze darted toward the house. “The first thing we need to do is see if anyone lives here. We’re all fighting to survive out here, and we have to learn to respect each other, so no stealing. If the owner has abandoned this place or is, uh…gone, then the trucks are up for grabs.”

On first glance, the house had looked abandoned to me. I felt confident that we’d soon have ourselves a set of wheels as I swung the door open. I knew the place had to be unoccupied because dust was caked on the furniture and mirrors. The fireplace wasn’t stocked with wood and was ice cold to the touch. The living room was spacious and furnished in ugly yellows, antique furniture, oak floors, and cream-colored walls. A mirror hung over two large yellow sofas. I listened to Val going off on the gals and had absolutely no doubt she was my sister; she acted exactly like Nick—and maybe a little like me too.

Claire ignored Val and kept playing a simple tune on an ebony grand piano sitting in the corner of the room.

“You’re a natural,” I said.

She closed the lid of the piano as tears welled up in her eyes. “I know now isn’t the right time to be playing. I just couldn’t help myself. That was the last song my mom and I played before we got separated.”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly, hoping the words would convey just how much I meant them.

She walked away, and my gaze drifted over to the spiral staircase that led up to the second-floor balcony, which stretched across the room with a glass railing. I glanced around for Jackie, who was sitting on the sofa, sipping on a can of Pepsi. My eyes roamed over her perfect body. I knew Val hated her outfit, but it sure showed off her incredible curves and long, pretty legs. I was mesmerized.

Val stared at me for a while, her mouth pressed into a thin line. For a moment, I thought she wanted to say something, but then she just shook her head, as though she found it a hopeless cause to share what was on her mind. She turned her back on me, hesitating, then poured bottled water over a towel and handed it to me. “Clean that thing off! And don’t think I didn’t notice your drooling.” She pointed down at my sledgehammer.

I wasn’t sure whether she meant I should clean it or that she thought she’d seen me drooling over it. My gaze wandered from the damp towel to the sledgehammer, and a smile crossed my lips. “I didn’t realize a sledgehammer could be so sexy,” I said.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure you know what I meant.”

“Thanks. I know you mean well.” With a nod from her, I started to clean all the zombie guts off the hammer.

Val had calmed down some, but I could tell my sister’s theatrics weren’t over. “When did you have time to change that dress of yours?” she asked Claire, her voice sweet as honey. “While I was out there saving our butts?”

“It was bloody!” she yelled back with mock disgust.

“If all you care about is looking cute, you’ll never survive out here! How far do you think you’ll get in flimsy sandals?”

Jackie cut in, “Hey, if we’d have known zombies were about to break in and we’d end up running for our lives, trust me, we would’ve chosen other shoes.”

Val set her bottled water down on the coffee table. “If you’re going to hang with us, you darn well better get yourself a decent pair of tennis shoes…and next time, you better have my back.”

“We will,” Jackie said. “We’ll go find some jeans and better shoes upstairs. I think I saw some close to our size.”

“Why do I smell perfume?” Nick asked.

Val motioned to the girls. “These geniuses found a bottle upstairs and slathered themselves with it.”

“We were trying to get the smell of blood out of our hair and clothes!” Claire whispered, the telltale hue of red covering her cheeks. “We’ve been through a lot, so please, can you just…?” Her voice trailed off insecurely.

I regarded her intently. The way her gaze shifted across the floor uncomfortably told me she knew she should’ve been out there helping us instead of cleaning up, but either she couldn’t help herself or it was her way of dealing with the prospect of an untimely death.
Who can blame her?

Val looked at me and shrugged. “Can you believe these girls? How are they still alive? I’ll tell ya. They’ve been riding everyone’s coattails and—”

“Val, that’s enough,” Nick said as he sipped on a can of warm Pepsi from the pantry. “These girls have lost people they’ve cared about. They’re in shock and doing the best they can. Besides, they’re the least of our worries right now. Let’s scavenge the house for supplies.”

I nodded. “Yeah, let’s look for any possible weapons, canned food, bottled water, and medical supplies,” I suggested, knowing Val’s dressing needed to be changed as soon as possible.

“You guys are right.” Val stood and walked over to the glass wall. “There’re Jeeps outside. Whoever lived here might’ve tried to make it out alive, but they obviously didn’t, which explains why the place is deserted. Let’s load the Jeeps up with survival gear and get our butts on the road before the same fate befalls us.”

“We need to hurry, people,” Nick said. “Lingering in this fancy glass house makes us sitting ducks. The only way to stay safe is to keep moving.”

Claire suddenly cleared her throat. “Why can’t we all just stay here? You killed the zombies who were chasing us.”

Val shot her an irritated look. “You’re crazy! You might think you’re safe in here, but you’re not. You can do whatever you want, but we’re not staying here. Come with us if you want, or stay here and play dress-up and die.”

“What makes you such an expert? After what we’ve seen out there, you couldn’t pay me to come with you, and surely not if you keep being bossy.”

“Bossy? Me?” Val looked at me like she was shocked to be called such a name. “Am I bossy?”

I bit my lip. “Uh…well—”

“Well?”

“Maybe just a tad.”

Val blew out a breath and turned back toward Claire. “Trust me, the feelings are mutual. I’ll drop you off in a heartbeat at the first safe place we find.”

Claire tossed her long red hair over her shoulder. “I’m not hitching up with a new group. I’ve been there, done that. The last one couldn’t protect us, and I doubt you can either. My new game plan is just to stay here.” She nudged Jackie’s arm. “This is a great hiding place, right?”

Before Jackie could answer, Val cut in. “Suit yourself. It’s your funeral. But we’re outta here, right, guys?”

Nick carried a case of bottled water. “Definitely. Staying here is like signing your own death certificate, especially with these glass walls. Besides, you girls don’t even know how to defend yourselves.”

“I packed up all the guns, but I left two out for Claire and Jackie,” Val said, pointing to the fireplace mantel. “I also put a bunch of holsters on the table for everyone. Well, I think Nick has his own. But anyway, give Claire and Jackie one, and while you’re at it, maybe you should give them some pointers.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “I’m really not into violence.”

“I don’t care what you’re into. It’s all about survival now,” Val said. “’Cause those things will tear you apart. They’ll munch on your flesh—gnawing, biting, and chewing—all while you’re still alive watching.”

Jackie threw a couch pillow at Val. “C’mon! That’s gross!”

Val placed her hands on her hips. “No, that’s reality. You better get hip with the times, ‘cause we’re living in a post-apocalyptic world now. This isn’t some pretty world filled with colorful daffodils and butterflies. It’s do or die.”

“Does your sister think she’s Lara Croft or something?” Claire asked.

“We’re giving you some guns,” Val said, turning to face her.

She shook her head. “No!”

Val met her gaze straight on. “Yes. You have the right to defend yourself! If a zombie crosses that line, you’re gonna need an equalizer.”

Claire rolled her eyes as Val continued.

“Now, we’re gonna give you a quick lesson, Glock 101.” Val picked up a pistol and handed it to the stubborn girl. “Take it! I’m not leaving you here defenseless, Princess.” 

“Well, I’m not going to let
you
teach me anything,” Claire hissed.

Val motioned toward Nick and me. “Fine. We’ve got two capable guys here. Pick one to coach you. Let me tell you something, Little Miss Thing, zombies don’t discriminate, and they’ll…”

I tuned her out, glanced at the sunset, and picked up a Glock 26 Gen4 from the mantel for Jackie. She squeezed past Claire, making her way out into the hall. Through the open door, I watched her enter the kitchen. It was the perfect opportunity to have a minute alone with her.

“They need to take a gun and know how to use it. Best-case scenario, they’ll smarten up and come with us. Try to talk some sense into her, Dean,” my brother said. “I’ll work on Claire.”

Claire stepped toward him. “Hey! I’m right here you know! Quit talking about me like I’m not even in the room.”

“Claire…” he began as I walked out of the living room.

I needed to convince Jackie somehow to leave with us, but if she refused, I still wanted her to have a weapon so she could take down any of those undead freaks who ventured near the house. I knew we couldn’t actually fire off bullets without attracting every zombie within miles, but I needed to teach her the basics. I found her standing near the kitchen counter, her arms pressed against the smooth Formica, her forehead creased with fine lines from anger and worry.

Her eyes lit up the second I walked in, and her forehead smoothed, as though all her worries disappeared the moment she saw me. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey.”

She held my gaze. “What’s up?”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked.

“I’m not so sure your girlfriend would like that. She might kick my butt and feed it to the zombies.”

“Val’s not my girlfriend,” I said.

“Your brother’s?”

“Nope. She’s our sister.”

“I didn’t know that, Dean,” she whispered. “What do you have there?” she asked, looking down at my hands.

“If you’re going to stay here—which I still don’t think you should—you’re gonna need this.” I handed her the gun.

She bit her lip and ran a hand across the smooth chrome. “Dean, I can’t—”

“Humor me.”

She nodded.

“Okay, first rule,” I said. “Never place your finger on the trigger unless you’re about to fire. Pretend the gun is loaded at all times.” I took out the magazine and unloaded the gun. Then I showed her how to properly hold the Glock pistol and lock her arms.

Jackie’s trembling hands reached for the gun. She wrapped her palm around the grip and secured her hold with her other hand. “It’s empty, right?”

“Yes, but it shouldn’t be. A zombie can come at any given minute. Always be prepared.”

She slammed the magazine in with shaking hands. Cocking the slide back, she successfully chambered a round. She slowly raised the gun and put her finger on the trigger. “I watched those things tear apart a sixty-five-year-old woman right before my eyes.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “She was in our group…my friend.”

I softly touched her back. “Jackie, I’m so sorry.”

“I couldn’t do anything to help her. Maybe if I’d have had a gun like this, I could’ve done something.” She inhaled and let it out slowly. “Your sister’s right. I don’t want to watch a zombie munch on me while I’m still alive, screaming, and I don’t want to watch another friend die in front of me. I’ll give this gun thing a try.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

She gripped the gun tightly and pointed straight ahead at the fridge. “You know what?”

“What?”

“The next zombie I meet will die.”

I didn’t want to point out the irony of her words: Technically, they were dead meat already, but I got her point anyway. She wanted them “dead” as in unmoving, shapeless heaps. We all wanted the same thing. I knew she meant every word because the pain was evident in her voice. I couldn’t imagine losing the ones I loved in such a horrible way. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said.

“She’s in a better place, and so are the others. Bless their souls.” She paused for a moment and then met my gaze. “Teach me, Dean. I want to learn everything. From this moment on, I  refuse to run anymore.”