The No Where Apocalypse (Book 2): Surviving No Where (9 page)

I softened my expression to somewhere between a smile and a grin. I’m sure I looked tremendously stupid in her beautiful eyes.

“Sure, what do you need?” I replied.

“Could Libby and I spend the night here?” she requested in the sweet tone. “I’m not sure I can walk any further today.”

I nodded, probably like a bobblehead of some sort. “Yes, that would be fine. Stay as long as you need.”

She replied with a smile that made me feel even more alive. Leaning closer, she caught me off-guard.

I expected a hug, or maybe her head would come to rest on my shoulder, even a peck on the cheek was a possibility.
 

Instead, she kissed my lips with hers, softly. “Thank you, Bob. You may have saved my life.”

I fought back tears and smiled. Maybe I’d saved her life. But Daisy brought mine back from the grave in that moment.

Year 3 - mid summer - WOP

The children finished their plates of fresh fish (thanks to Nate and Dizzy), new potatoes, and old green beans on the couch. Daisy and I sat at the small kitchen table, exchanging smiles and small talk.

“The fish camps are a busy place,” she explained, nearly licking her plate clean. Even her appetite made me smile. “I was a cleaner. That’s such a nasty job. They bring you bushel baskets full of fish, and from sunup to sundown all you do is gut and scale.
 

“Some of the catch went to the fillet stations. But I never caught on with filleting. So I spent my time mostly gutting and scaling.”

She made it all sound so boring and dull. As if no thought went into her work. Though her hands were dirty and chapped when she arrived, I hadn’t noticed any missing fingers or gaping wounds.

“Who took care of the children while you worked?” I refilled her water glass and received another of her pretty smiles. The kind that encompasses an entire face, lighting up the eyes as well.

“Mostly young girls,” she replied, sipping daintily at her water. Daisy and Libby arrived with what seemed to be an unquotable thirst. Hours later, I think their rehydration was complete. “Young woman not ready to be put to work mostly. Eight, nine, maybe as old as ten. By twelve, they stood all day on the fish lines. Or they helped haul away the processed fish for salting.”

“How long were you there?”

Her eyes shut as her pixy nose scrunched up, considering the question. “Let’s see. I arrived when the last of the snow left, the previous spring. And I left maybe a month or five weeks ago.” She gazed at me. “How long is that you suppose?”

I thought it was July. But it could have been early August. “Probably sixteen months, give or take.”

Leaning back, she ran her fingers through her hair. “It was terrible work,” she went on, “but it kept me and my children fed.”

Something that had bothered me since I first saw Daisy bubbled to the top of my mind. Though I should have waited, I decided openness was the rule of the day.

“And the kids’ father?”

I expected a harsh glare. Or maybe a spiteful shake of her head. Instead, Daisy shrugged.

“Not in the picture,” she answered, plainly. “There was a man I took up with at the camp. And while he was nice at first, a drop of liquor turned him meaner than a grizzly bear.”

Jeez, how was I supposed to reply to that news?
Sorry you found a bastard in the apocalypse
. Like I hadn’t seen my fair share.
 

“That’s too bad,” I replied.

“That’s why I left,” she countered. “I didn’t feel safe there any longer. I worried he might serve his wrath on my children.” Leaning forward on her elbows, she stared at me. “Do you think it was wrong of me, to leave like that?”

I shook away her concern. “No. I don’t blame anyone for anything anymore. You have to do what keeps you safe, what keeps you alive. If you had fears, they were most likely well founded.”

She glanced past me to the far corner of the room. Watching her eyes narrow, a question formed on her delicate lips.

“Do you have that shower working somehow?”

I grinned. She was going to enjoy this.

After the water heated, Nate and I kicked a ball out front, away from the structure. I left Daisy and Libby with three buckets of warm water, each perched on the side of the upper lips of the shower, a trick I had finally learned to make the process easier. All the woman had to do was to tip the bucket and warm water would fill the shower basin, slowly covering you with streams of cleansing fluid.

I heard laughing and singing from inside. I listened to their sounds of normalcy as Nate chased the ball towards the road. Life had returned to No Where in two tiny packages. I tried to suppress my joy, but it insisted on sneaking out through my grin and my fluttering heart.

Year 3 - mid summer - WOP

Nate read the girl a story from one of the two children’s books I had. Well, it wasn’t so much mine as something my grandmother had purchased maybe 30 years ago for my grandpa to bring here. As far as I knew, the woman had never stepped foot in the cabin. Not in the last twenty plus years at least.

Still, my grandmother’s touch surrounded us. The painting above the couch, the colored melmac dishes in the cupboard. Even the couch itself had been selected by her, and shipped northward with Grandpa.

Libby’s tiny eyes fluttered shut as Nate read. Clutched in her arms was the dirtiest stuffed rabbit I’d even seen. Mister Bunny, as he was called, had survived the apocalypse in slightly worse shape than myself.

Seeing the girl fast asleep, Nate curled up on the opposite end of the couch and picked up a manlier book, in his eyes I’m sure. Something on the subject of hunting whitetail or trapping beaver, if I remembered correctly.

Behind me, I listened as Daisy’s steps came closer. When they stopped, I thought about turning, but decided against it. She wore a large red tee shirt I had given her. Of course, it hung down almost to her knees and the oversized body, one even too large for me now, hid any of her form. Still I wanted to give her some sense of decency.

I felt a finger touch the scar on my left side; it next floated down to where my missing left pinkie should have been.

“How long ago?” she murmured.

I finally decided to face her. When I turned, her eyes took in the front of my wound. I saw her grimace slightly.

“The finger two winters ago,” I answered as if it were no big deal. “I got nailed in the side by a slug this past spring, maybe four or five months ago.”

She inspected the wounds closer. Even going as far as to lift my hand for thorough look. “Whoever patched you up did a good job. I’ve seen wounds no worse than this kill people.”

That was my patron saint’s handy work. And the healing power of wanting to get rid of her teenage daughter.

“Nate’s mom is a nurse,” I answered, letting her rotate my hand at various angles. Perhaps she was being nosy, but I didn’t mind the feminine touch. “His sister keeps getting stuck with clean up detail. You know, watching me to make sure I don’t die or something stupid like that.”

Lowering my hand, she let go. She patted my bare chest as she passed in front of me and towards Nate. Whispering something in his ear, I saw him nod and she kissed his forehead. Even he smiled.

I followed her into the bedroom where a single candle burned. Pausing at the door, I grimaced: time to be a gentleman.

“You go ahead and take the bed.” I said, “I’ll sleep in the extra chair in the living room.”

She glared at me. Was that a look of disappointment?

“Why?” she asked plainly.

Staring at my feet seemed like the proper eye location. “I figured you’d want some space, and not some strange man snoring in your ear. And,” I paused. Something else needed to be said. “And I’ve got a wife back in Chicago. Just wouldn’t be right the way I see it.”

I looked up to find her nodding thoughtfully on the far side of the bed. “How long have you been alone?”

Yeah, that. “The whole time.”

The seriousness of her face made me wonder what was coming next. “What’s her name?”

“Shelly.” God, the name almost hurt to say out loud.

She came closer, reaching for my hand. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Bob. But you’ve been alone a very long time. So has your wife. I think she’d understand.”

Tears formed and dripped from my cheeks. Her now clean soft fingers wiped each one away.

“I just need you to hold me,” she said. She wasn’t begging, she was asking. “I just need someone next to me. I need to know that it’s all right to still be alive. I’ve been strong way too long. I need someone to be my strength, even if it’s just for tonight.”

I nodded softly. “Yeah,” I answered. “I know how you feel.”

She took my chin and focused her eyes on mine. At that moment, we were the only two people left in the world. “Don’t ever forget about your wife, ever. But for tonight, can I take her place? Please?”

I never realized how hard it was going to be. All this time I’d held out the smallest amount of hope in getting home. No woman had so much as tempted me before. But I knew this was coming. And now it was upon me.

“Yes,” I answered, hugging Daisy gently. “I think that’s okay.”

And for the first time all day, I felt her cry, softly against my chest.

Year 3 - mid summer - WOP

I didn’t have kids. And I’d never spent much time with Bud’s two hellions. I hoped Daisy would forgive my morning gruffness, given that Libby had crawled in between us somewhere in the middle of night’s dark wrappings.

Daisy smiled at me from her pillow, her lips just visible above Libby’s blond head.

“I didn’t feel her climb in,” she confessed. “I’m sorry. Was she a bother?”

The woman wore no makeup, which was long gone. Her blond hair had become quite tussled somewhere in her sleep. And the corners of her mouth displayed dried bits of drool. However, she was a goddess in my eyes.

“It wasn’t fun,” I admitted, then grinned. “I’ve never actually slept with a child before.”

She tilted her head. “Really? Where does Nate sleep when it’s just you and him?”

Oops, she had me there. “Well, Nate’s nine. He always just sleeps in one spot. This one,” I rubbed Libby’s head gently, “ rolled and tossed most of the night. Covers on, covers off. She’s quite a little squirmer.”

I noticed her blush and become flustered. “I’m so sorry,” she offered. “I should have just slept out there with—”

I raised a hand to stop her. When she gave me a puzzled look, I stroked her thin face. “It’s not a problem, Daisy. I don’t mind. It was nice to be reminded that I’m still alive.”

She let out a captured breath and continued with a small smile. “Well, I should get her up and we should be on our way. I’m afraid we’ve overstayed our welcome.”

My heart broke a little. “Where are you headed? Home?”

Her eyes glanced away. “No,” she answered as if lost in a dream. “I don’t really have a home. Not one I can go back to per-se.”

“Well, the next town to the north is Covington.” Something flashed in her otherwise quiet eyes making me wonder.

“I’m definitely not going there,” she answered, a little more forcefully. “I know all about that place. It’s a death trap, and full of disease.”

Her answer made me wonder how much she knew about the area. “What fish camp were you at? You never said last night.”

“Marquette.”

That made more sense. “So you traded with the folks from Covington. That’s how you know about that place.”

She nodded, but it wasn’t very convincing.

“I’m originally from the east of here. Some little village no one ever heard of.” Daisy perched her head on a bent elbow and whispered over the sleeping child. “Because I had a baby out of wedlock, my mother kicked me out of the house. Said I couldn’t come back. When I made the same mistake again, she was done with me forever.

“I did okay on my own. Worked two or three jobs while one of my girlfriends watched the kids. Course I had to watch hers when she was working. It was tough, didn’t get much sleep, but we got by.”

I nodded and paid close attention to learn the details of her life I had not yet dared to ask about.

“Ever married?” I asked.

Her lips smushed as her head shook. “No, I was too stubborn, too proud, too stupid. A man had done this to me— gave me Brendon,
 
ran off, and married another woman. He was older, and I was kinda young. When it happened with Libby, and I mean the exact same way, I gave up on your kind. Do you know what Libby’s father told me when he found out I was pregnant?”

Of course, I shook my head.

“He said there was no way to know who the daddy was.” Daisy looked down. “I didn’t sleep around, so that made me mad. I asked him for a DNA test, but he just laughed at me. Called me a stupid piece of gutter trash and married some rich bitch. Guess I got what I deserved.”

“So what happened when the lights went out?” I asked, gauging her reaction, which seemed neutral at best. “Your mom would have forgiven you at that point, right? You could have gone back there.”

“She not the forgiving type. Neither am I. So me and Shawndra, that friend of mine, took a ride in a wagon to Marquette when they showed up looking for workers. Both of her kids died of the fever the first winter. By spring she wandered away, probably killed herself.”

I reached out and stroked Daisy’s head. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged, something she was good at.

“We were never promised anything in this world, even before The Darkness,” she continued, a defeated tone invading her otherwise happy words. “Now with this hell we have to try to navigate through…I’m surprised anyone’s alive.”

Another question I wanted to ask the previous night, but it hadn’t rolled off my lips. “How old are you, Daisy?”

She grinned at me in a childlike way. “How old are you, Mr. Reiniger?”

It was impolite to ask a lady her age, at least without offering mine first. “Twenty-six, maybe 27 depending what day it might be,” I answered as honestly as I could. Days, much less birthdays, meant little now.

“I’m 25,” she proudly exclaimed. “So we’re darn near the same age.”

But something wasn’t right in her answer. She hardly looked 18. Her face, though slightly drawn out by the time alone still possessed a youthful appearance. I took one of her hands and inspected it carefully. Though chaffed and boney, the skin on her fingers, and even in her palm, looked nothing like mine. And while I had been chopping wood, she had cleaned a thousand fish or more.