Whimper (6 page)

“Where are they now?” Zoe asked cautiously. Something in my voice must have given away that my story didn’t have a happy ending.

“Mom and Dad took a day off work so that they could spend some time together. Brianna and I were at school. I remember I was so jealous that they weren’t taking us with them. When they didn’t show up to pick us up, we thought they were busy having fun and forgot us. Turns out there had been an accident…” I trailed off, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. Years might pass, but the pain of that loss still wouldn’t go away. “They drowned,” I summed up, not willing to go into all the details right now. I needed to keep it together.

Zoe didn’t press for details, she simply nodded and snuggled a little closer to me. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. I nodded, not wanting to think about the past anymore. We lay there together quietly for long enough that I started to drift off to sleep. Zoe stirred, her shin grazed my thigh and she touched my forehead softly.

“You really are cool. I don’t know why I didn’t notice before,” she said softly, her breath tickling the side of my face.

“Does it bother you?” I asked quietly. It bothered me. It marked me as the monster I was becoming, only half alive.

“No. It doesn’t bother me. It’s just different. Do you need to sleep, or can we keep talking?” She slid her leg down the side of mine, barely brushing my skin. I needed to sleep, but I wanted to do so much more than talk.

“We can talk,” I answered cautiously. I wanted to get to know her, but didn’t want to delve too deeply into certain topics.

“How old are you?” Zoe asked, tracing a palm over my chest. Just laying here was killing me, maybe even literally, but I was too involved to care.

“I’m 24. I should have been finishing my PhD this semester.”

“But, you got sick?”

I nodded, knowing she could feel the movement even if she couldn’t see me that well.

“Why were you staring at me this morning?”

“You mean besides the obvious reason?” I laughed. “There’s something about you that seems familiar, something that really draws me in. I can’t really explain it.”

“Could it have something to do with the virus?” she asked, shifting next to me.

“No, the virus shuts down everything but the hypothalamus. The brain reverts to its most basic, primitive, survival functions; fight or flight, hunger, pain. Things like arousal, attraction, love, those all disappear pretty quickly once the virus takes over,” I explained in my “scientific” voice, trying to keep the pain and fear from showing.

“Elliott, are you dying?” Zoe’s voice was barely a whisper.

Yes. And No. How should I answer that question? Part of me was dying, the part that made me…Me. What was left would be a hollow shell. Alive, but empty. “I’m not dying today, or tomorrow. I will someday.” I didn’t want to explain tonight. I rolled onto my side so that I could see Zoe’s face. In the shadows, I could still make out the sparkle of a tear trailing down her cheek.

My hands moved without any direction from my stupid, stubborn brain. I stroked her soft hair, running my fingers through it and cupped her cheek in my palm.

“I’ve seen a lot of really bad stuff recently, but I’ve never been as scared as I was when I thought you’d been hurt. Or worse, that you might have been infected. I couldn’t have lived with that.” I brushed her tears away with my lips, feathering kisses down her petal soft cheek until I reached her lips. She wound her arms around my neck, pulling me closer, deepening our kiss until I was completely lost in the feel of her, the scent of her, the heat between us.

Shit! The pounding in my temples had returned and it was severe. I hadn’t even noticed. Worse, my pulse had gone thready, erratic. “Thermometer,” I gasped. “No, too late. I need…I really need a lot of ice actually.”

Zoe leapt up, yanking on the overhead light’s pull cord so hard it snapped off in her hand. She pulled open another door, releasing a cool gust of air. “Come on, get in here. We’re cooling you down faster than that.”

She had a walk in freezer in her basement. A really old one, but still, it was working. Zoe held open the door and practically shoved me inside. She grabbed blankets off the bed, both pillows too, and dashed back to me. Propping the door open a few inches with a heavy doorstop, she pushed boxes of food and bags of ice to the outside until there was room to sit down on two overturned milk crates. She’d wrapped up in both blankets, but was still shivering like crazy. Digging through one of the boxes, she pulled out an orange popsicle and pushed it into my hands.

“Eat it! It’ll help you cool down faster.”

“Why on earth do you have a freezer this size in your basement, Zoe?” I asked between bites.

“My grandpa had an ice cream truck. This is where he stored his supplies when he wasn’t out selling. Is it cold enough? Do you still need ice?” I could detect a slight note of hysteria in her voice.

“It’s perfect. It shouldn’t take too long for me to cool down. You don’t have to stay in here with me—it’s not good for you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think…I shouldn’t have pushed,” she pleaded, twisting the blanket edge in her hands. I pulled her closer to me with my free hand, savoring the tingles from having her close.

“Look me in the eyes, Zoe. Do I look at all as if I regret kissing you?” She looked up, shyly for someone with so much bravado any other time, and finally met my eyes. I
had
to kiss her again, there was no other option. And so I did, until her teeth started chattering and I reluctantly realized that we both needed to get out of the cold and try to sleep.

I woke up by degrees, slowly becoming aware that something wasn’t quite routine. It wasn’t that the room I was sleeping in was still quite dark, because I typically did everything I could to block out daylight as long as possible anyway. But my bedroom didn’t usually smell like musty soil, and it hadn’t been chilly in a while. The biggest sign that something major had changed was the snoring coming from the other side of the bed.
That
was not at all typical.

I stretched out a tentative hand to brush Elliott’s dark blond hair from his forehead, testing his temperature. How very odd to be checking to see if someone’s temp was
low
. I still didn’t understand how everything connected, but I planned on finding that out this morning. Plus I had to decide if we were going to the bar today. I moved cautiously off the edge of the bed, making sure that Elliott’s supplies were close by before I ran upstairs to change and brush my teeth.

I noticed the guest bedroom next to Zack’s room was actually occupied and mentally praised Brianna for her good sense. My brother wasn’t a bad guy, but he wasn’t as selective as he should be about dates either. If Brianna wanted to keep him interested, the best thing she could do was to keep him at arm’s length. He’s always loved a challenge.

I threw on a short sun dress and clean undies, trying not to over-think the fact that I’d never actually worn this dress before. I rarely wore anything that would qualify as “feminine” actually. I expertly avoided the squeaky spots on the floorboards as I snuck back past Zack’s room to the bathroom.

Once I felt moderately presentable again, I headed back down to the kitchen to try to make some breakfast for everyone. I could manage scrambled eggs and toast, and we actually had the necessary ingredients for that in the fridge. That was pretty noteworthy for Zack and me. We had battles over who would shop for groceries, but somehow I always buckled first. Usually, it was once we ran out of Pop Tarts and caffeinated beverages, you know, the staples.

I listened at the top of the basement stairs until I heard soft snoring again and decided I had time to make coffee before I started cooking.

The smell of coffee brewing in the morning always reminded me of my uncle Rick—it was his favorite thing. He’d always said that if he ever found a good coffee flavored beer he could die a happy man. The bar had three different brands of it stocked, so I hoped he was happy wherever he was.

While the coffee pot gurgled, I wandered over to the front door to look through the metal grating. There wasn’t much room to see through the slits between the bars and portions of that were distorted by the bevel on the leaded glass panes, but I could make out part of the yard. No one appeared to be stumbling around out there, and after yesterday that counted as a damn good thing in my book.

At least I would know more today and be able to make a decision about the Elliott situation. What exactly was my situation? I barely knew the guy, but I’d brought him into my home and even slept next to him last night. I’d dated guys for months who never made it that far. It was weird. Exciting, but definitely weird. Making out in a freezer was a strange first too, but thinking about it made me grin like an idiot.

“What are you cheesing about?” Zack asked as he scuffed into the kitchen grumpily and poured himself a cup of black coffee. No sugar. He insisted it was the only “manly” way to drink coffee. Yuck.

“Nothing,” I lied, sipping from my own mug. “You’re up early. Is Brianna still asleep?”

“Nah. I grabbed her some clothes out of your room so she could take a shower before we run over to the hotel. Are you still cool with them staying here?”

I shrugged, not really sure of the answer myself. “I guess so. I mean, I want to get some answers. Don’t you?”

Zack glanced towards the staircase. “That’s part of it, yeah.”

I felt a lecture building up inside me, but tried to force it back down. Zack did not respond well to my lectures. Usually, he made certain that he did the exact opposite of whatever I suggested, merely on principle.

“You don’t have to say anything, I can
feel
your disapproval!” He waved a hand in my direction. “Self-righteousness is pouring off of you in waves. I will try to behave myself with this one. I think.”

It was as close to a promise as I was going to get, but I simply nodded and continued drinking my coffee. If I acted too supportive he might change his mind.

“What’s with the dress?” Zack waggled his eyebrows. “You never wear dresses. I didn’t know you even owned any. Do we need to have a talk about precautions?”

“It’s comfortable, that’s it. Shut up,” I protested.

“Oh, see? You don’t want to be lectured either!” Zack flashed a triumphant smirk. I scowled and considered bashing him over the head with my empty coffee mug. The mental image was as close as I’d ever get. He fights dirty, and I wasn’t ready for whatever he’d dish out in revenge.

I refilled the mug instead, adding a generous dollop of creamer and sugar, more to emphasize our differences than because I needed it to be
that
sweet. “I should go back down and check on Elliott. Then I thought I’d make breakfast. You want to take Brianna to get their stuff after we eat?”

Elliott quietly stepped into the kitchen, causing Zack and I to jump. How had we not heard him come up the basement stairs?

“We may want to hold off on getting our stuff until after I’ve had a chance to explain some things. You might change your minds once you know more, and we wouldn’t blame you if that’s the case,” he said, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “I think it would be for the best if we left.”

I already missed the warm fuzzy feelings we’d shared in the basement. “Why don’t we have breakfast first? We’ll all feel better if we have some food in our stomachs,” I said. I was trying to sound sensible, but really I was only stalling. Right now I had hope. Hope that no matter how bad the story Elliott had to tell was, I could still cling to these feelings. I’d never felt this kind of pull towards anyone, and I was desperately lonely, even though I spent every day surrounded by people. I didn’t want to let go so soon.

Zack, who was always ready to eat and was no more eager to send the Carter siblings on their way than I, agreed immediately. “I’ll go head upstairs and check on Brianna while you get started, Zoe,” he said over his shoulder as he charged up the stairs.

I opened the refrigerator, hiding my face inside for a moment until I got myself under control. “Zoe? It’s not…I don’t want you to think…Ugh. I’m not good at this stuff,” Elliott mumbled from behind me.

I stayed silent, moving things around in the fridge even though I knew exactly where the eggs and milk were. I just needed to keep my hands busy.

“Can I help? With breakfast, I mean,” he asked hesitantly.

I picked up the egg carton and gallon of milk and handed them off to him, while I pulled out the butter and orange juice. I got out the bowls and pans in silence, trying to decide if I should say anything. “Scrambled eggs okay?” I finally asked, my voice cracking a little.

“Sure, of course. What do you want me to do?”

I let him warm up the frying pan and make slices of toast while I whisked up the eggs and milk. “I don’t cook much, so hopefully these are edible.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll be fine. We’ve got it under control.”

We worked side by side making eggs and toast. I even found some bacon in the freezer that we thawed and fried up. The kitchen was big enough for two of us, but somehow we managed to always be touching. A hand brushing over an arm, shoulders rubbing, occasional friction that made making breakfast seem like a far different experience than it ever had been before. Hell, I felt like
I
needed an inhaler now, I was feeling so flustered and breathless.