I wake up feeling disoriented and unsure of where I am. It’s obvious that I’ve overslept by the amount of sunlight coming in through the partially opened curtains. Daylight has become a valuable commodity in this new world and I usually wake up early to take advantage of it. Today I have wasted hours of daylight and I’m not happy about it.
It’s such a contrast from the pre-apocalyptic world. I remember when Dana and I used to go to nightclubs. We wouldn’t come home until two am or later and then sleep in past noon. That lifestyle got old after a couple years, but Dana never seemed to tire of it. I could only take getting hit on by all the wrong guys so many times before I had had enough. My least favorite was the rich guy talking about his car collection and wanting to add me to it. The only one who ever succeeded in picking me up was Brad, and that was mostly because he offered to teach me how to shoot his guns. I had to make sure he wasn’t speaking metaphorically before agreeing to the date. You shouldn’t put anything past the types you meet in clubs.
Coming back to my senses I remember the events of the previous day; my brush with death in the city and being saved by Liam, who should be sleeping in the bedroom down the hall. Was it all a dream?
I have to know so I spring up to open my bedroom door. The apartment is dark and quiet. Liam’s door is opened but he’s not inside. With my two handguns, flashlights and laser sights on, I proceed downstairs.
Something seems wrong. The curtains are still closed and Liam isn’t here. Did I just imagine him? If he were real then he would have opened the curtains. He would be here. I turn toward the front door moving cautiously through the darkness.
“Ceres,” a voice directly behind me stops my heart. I automatically spin while lunging away from the threat to focus my red dot on his forehead and flashlight in his face reflecting his bright green eyes. It’s Liam!
“I surrender,” he jests putting his hands up.
“I’m sorry,” I say putting my guns down on the kitchen counter and then I rush to hug him. I can’t help it; I still need to prove to myself that he’s real by touch. “You scared the crap out of me.”
He hugs me back and it’s a feeling of warm wonderful muscular bliss. I feel safe in his arms.
“Are you OK?” Liam asks quietly.
“Yes, it’s just… I wasn’t sure you were…” I stammer.
“Real?” he says.
“Yeah, it’s all still too…” I say.
“Fast?” he says. How does he do that? It’s like he’s reading my mind, but somehow knowing what I’m going to say before I do.
“If you keep finishing my sentences like that then you’re going to have to put a ring on my finger,” I say.
“I’m sure that something can be arranged,” Liam replies with a smile as I gaze up into his eyes. He’s the perfect height for me, around six feet even, about four inches taller than I am. I realize that I’ve been hugging him too long now. We only just met yesterday and here I am smothering him like some emotional school girl.
As if responding to my thoughts, Liam kisses me on the forehead before letting me go which makes everything okay. His lips are warm, soft and there is a tingle of electricity in them. The tingle sweeps down throughout my body as if it were a signal from his lips to every cell in me. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it and I realize that I must have gasped when it happened.
“We need to go shopping,” Liam says snapping me back to reality like the voice of reason itself. We’re low on food and water and are soon on task to go find some more.
Before we leave I open the trunk to show Liam my spoils of war. “You have hand grenades?” Liam says astonished. He picks one up feeling the weight in his hand, “Where did you get these?”
“An air force base up in Montana,” I say, “They had a ridiculous amount of everything. Even the linked ammo you need.” I pause for a minute admiring the way that Liam’s beige cargo pants hang off of his hips while he admires my grenades.
“We could go and be there in a couple days,” I say.
“Maybe someday,” he says. “First there’s a base here that I want to check out.” Liam has just over eight hundred link rounds left for his light machine gun in one long continuous strand. The idea of being able to fire eight hundred rounds without reloading is very appealing to me as my mind simulates the possibilities. Given enough of this linked ammo—we could take on a city full of zombies—all without having to reload.
I notice that Liam doesn’t have any hand guns so I offer him two of my silenced laser/flashlight Berettas. “Silent but deadly,” I say while handing them to him, “just in case”. He reluctantly accepts them and I also give him two of my extra belt mount holsters.
In return he shows me how to attach two grenades to my vest by their pins. He explains how to squeeze the handle, and then pull the grenade away from the pin to make it live, then it will detonate three seconds after the handle is released.
Of course I already know all of this, but I like the sound of Liam’s voice so much that I don’t dare interrupt him when he speaks. There’s something about his articulation, like there’s more to what he’s saying than just the surface words. It’s like there’s a deeper, hidden message between the words somehow. I don’t know what this message is, but I do know that he has my undivided attention.
We drive off and find a town that is too populated for us to deal with properly. It does have a nice large grid of cross streets which helps us to evade the horde. On the far side of town we find a large bulk warehouse store. I loop around joining the pursuing mobs into one giant horde as I lead them slowly out of town.
“Done this before, have we?” Liam says from the passenger seat, the musical quality of his voice charming and disarming me completely.
“Just a couple times,” I say back with a smile catching a glimpse of his lips and biting my own. I grab Liam’s left hand with my right. He squeezes my hand in his and there it is again; that same tingling energy that came from his lips was now coming from his hand. A wave of warmth spreads up my arm and throughout my entire body. The skin of his hand continues to tingle against mine, sending its signal of warmth as I begin to melt. I don’t understand this but I am fascinated by it and wise enough to just enjoy it, whatever it is. I can tell by the sparkle in Liam’s eyes that he is also enjoying the moment. I wonder if he feels it too?
In this golden moment the world transforms as if some previously unknowable perception has now been granted to me. My surroundings begin to sparkle as if every particle of matter has become directly connected to us and seemingly beneficial to our existence. Even the ugly or most mundane features transform into something spectacular. The dirt shimmers under the sun, the pavement sparkles and even the horde of zombies pursuing us seem to shine as if divine while their roaring shrieks become a choir of blessings propelling us forward.
How romantic. I think while holding Liam’s hand as we drive slowly out of town with ten thousand zombies following closely behind us.
“You take me to the best places,” I say to him with a smile.
I keep the horde in tow for the minimum safe lead away distance (five miles) before speeding up. Normally the fifteen minutes this takes would seem like an eternity with a hungry mob at my back door the whole time. But time passes differently while I’m holding Liam’s hand and the fifteen minutes are over with way too soon.
We speed up taking the next junction and an alternate highway back to town. It’s about thirty miles out of our way, but I have a fast car and I’m not afraid to use it. I let go of Liam’s hand and the world returns to normal as we break one hundred miles per hour. The last thing I need is for my perception of time and space to be altered while speeding.
As we break one-twenty I can see that Liam is becoming uncomfortable. He’s gripping the door handle and his knuckles are turning white. I slow back down to one hundred. “Are you okay?” I say.
“Yes,” he says. But I can tell that he’s not okay. Either he doesn’t trust my driving or just doesn’t like speeding. I slow down and keep it at eighty for the rest of the trip. I can see that Liam is much more comfortable at this speed so I decide to poke him with words.
“You know, she’ll do one sixty,” I say with a smile. There is just a glint of terror in his eyes before he realizes that I’m just teasing him.
“I’ll take your word for it,” he says.
We get back to the warehouse store and the town is nice and empty. The glass doors are closed as we approach. “Wait,” I say, “There are some inside.”
“How many?” Liam says.
“Maybe a hundred,” I reply, “You could set up over there,” I point to a sedan parked sideways to us on the far side of the parking lot, “or I could handle them.”
“Just be careful,” Liam says while walking off to the sedan with his machine gun. He sets the bipod on the trunk of the car then gives me the thumbs up.
I walk up to the glass doors and push one open. It’s dark inside, but the smell tells me that there are zombies in here. I see a female figure with long hair next to a register. I put the red dot on her head and fire off a loud shot that echoes through the store. She falls as I hear movement and then the inevitable scream. Mission accomplished, I’ve got their attention. I turn and run out the door toward Liam’s position. As I approach on his left he starts firing. The immense noise given off from his gun catches me off guard. I knew it was going to be loud, but not this loud.
I stand behind Liam and observe the line of zombies streaming toward us to their doom. His skill with long guns continues to amaze me as he sends out an impressive series of fully automatic head shots. The zombies don’t stand a chance in single-file and none get within ten yards of us before losing their heads.
As the last few straggle out of the store I hear something else, from all around us. We’ve roused the remaining population of the town!
“In the store!” I shout to Liam. He grabs his gun and we both run toward the opening. I can see them now, coming in from all directions, still far away but closing fast.
Liam sets his light machine gun on the checkout counter furthest away from the door and I stand to his left with both lights on my guns sweeping the store for any remaining stragglers. I don’t see any. Liam starts firing toward the door continuing his head shooting spree. The zombies are disoriented when they enter the darkness of the store, which makes them easy targets for Liam.
Even so, I don’t like it in this dark space. It reminds me too much of the day that Cujo died. It’s at this moment when I turn toward the back of the empty store that I see them; two butcher zombies wearing bibs with red blood stains are almost on top of me. The larger, closer one’s jaw is dislodged and hanging loosely off to the side. I quickly raise and fire both guns creating bright green splashes from the backs of their heads which quickly dissipate in the darkness. I knew I was guarding this side for a reason. Now the mob at the door is getting larger and more unruly.
“Grenade!” Liam shouts over the sound of the machine gun. I grab one of my grenades, squeezing the handle and circle around to the left. The zombies don’t see me and continue to focus on the source of all the noise. When I get around far enough I can see the large mob outside trying to get in. There must be a couple hundred of them.
I pull the grenade away from the pin which stays attached to my vest. Carefully I toss it through the doorway just past their swarming heads. It lands in the middle of the mob then I duck behind the checkout station. I feel the blast wave go through my body, even from this distance. Then I hear the sound of body parts hitting the wall outside.
Soon there are crawling zombies, legs blown off, coming in with the regular ones which makes targeting more difficult for Liam. I begin to help with my handguns and then hear him say, “take over,” from behind. He circles around to the left then tosses a grenade and it detonates just a split second after passing through the doorway. He must have released the grip then held it for two seconds before throwing it so that it detonated while still air born. Soon there is a break in the action which confirms my theory; the grenade must have detonated just above head level and delivered quite a few head shots of shrapnel into the crowd.
Liam is a genius with grenades. But I’m also upset with him for holding a live grenade for so long. I only met him yesterday, but the thought of losing him has already become intolerable. I walk toward the doorway finishing off the last few crawlers along the way. Most are missing both legs but some are missing just one. The last few runners make their way through the bright opening and are greeted with my bullets in their face.
Nothing quite compares to the contrasting quiet that exists moments after slaying a horde of zombies.
“Nice throw,” I say to Liam, “but aren’t you afraid that it will go off in your hand?”
“Grenade fuses are very reliable,” he replies trying to sound reassuring. “They never go off in less than three seconds.”
Liam grabs a cart and we start shopping by lantern light. The store is enormous on the inside with a high ceiling and tall shelves that almost meet it. We come across the dry foods section first as our enormous shadows loom ominously against the aisles of prepackaged food. We grab some of our favorite snacks: crackers, trail mix, pretzels. But then we come across the beef jerky. I grab a tub and search it with my gun light for the pertinent info.
“Crap, it’s way past the expiration date,” I say unhappily. Liam takes a look at it.
“Don’t worry about the expiration date on that, it’s dried and sealed. That date is just to cover the manufacturer’s ass, you know, limit their liability.”
I want to tell Liam I love you, but again, it’s too soon. Down, schoolgirl.
“Really?” is all I can say before I tear open the lid to the jerky.
“Just smell it before you eat it,” Liam continues, “it will smell rotten if it has gone bad.”
I pull out a piece and pass the full length of it under my nose while breathing in. It smells wonderful so I take a bite. It’s been months since I’ve had any and this tastes like the best ever to me. I offer Liam a bite, but he refuses saying, “after we’re back in the car,” as I realize that he is nervous about being here in the dark.
I wonder if my lack of fear is due to a false sense of security from being with Liam or if it’s because I know that we’ve dealt with all of the zombies. With all of the noise generated by his LMG, any remaining zombies would have to be deaf to have not heard it.
Deaf. I think while remembering my close call with the deaf old man zombie up north.
“We should sweep the store before continuing,” I say. I can see that Liam agrees with me before even finishing my sentence. I take point in the front and he covers our rear and side flank. We make it to the back corner of the store without incident. There are palettes upon palettes of bottled water here. Liam and I could live out the rest of our lives in this store and never run out of food or water. There’s so much water that we could even take baths.
Moving across the back of the store the smell is becoming more pungent. We pass through the spoiled meat section quickly, because it’s disgusting, and move through the former refrigerated section. At this moment I am thankful that the giant refrigerators are air tight. That’s one smell that I don’t need to know about. We make our way to the back left corner and subsequently back along the wall to the front left corner. We cross over returning to our cart; both relieved and now more relaxed.
“All clear,” Liam says with a smile.
I grab two more beef jerky containers and we continue our shopping, moving toward the back of the store. About half way back, we have just entered a new aisle from the middle of the store when I hear a sound. It’s hissing directly behind me. Liam and I both spin quickly around to see what it is.
It’s an old lady. She’s short, shriveled, has white hair, green zombie eyes and is staggering toward us at almost walking speed. This would almost be comical if she hadn’t scared the bejesus out of us. I blow her brains out and she collapses to her final resting place on the store floor. Liam approaches her. “Check for a hearing aid,” I say. He looks at her from the side.
“How did you know?” he asks.
“Experience,” I answer. “A deaf one almost got me up north.” As I’m saying this I remember how naked I was when it happened. I suddenly become aware of myself and feel just as naked now. I’m afraid that Liam can read my thoughts and turn away embarrassed.
We finish our shopping without further incident and load every inch of my car with our edible loot. “There’s a base not far from here,” he says, “let’s go check it out.”
As we approach the base the inevitable trail of corpses appears. As we enter the main gate the slaughter trail thickens. Most are wearing uniforms.
“You would think that people this well-armed would have figured out a way to survive,” I say disgustedly, “I started out with only a BB gun and I’m still alive.”
Liam shoots me a look, “are you kidding?” he says.
“Nope, I’m from California, remember?” I say. “It was the only thing I could get on short notice, a .22 caliber pump action air rifle.”
“You’re even more of a badass than I thought you were,” says Liam smiling enthusiastically. “How the hell did you survive with that?” I continue driving us around the base while we talk.
“Good defense, mostly hiding at first, then I was able to barricade them out,” I say. “It was a bit touch-and-go in the beginning.”
“Same here,” he says, “I think that to survive you had to first understand what was happening. Most people were infected before they even understood the danger. The few who did realize the danger made bad decisions.”
“Like traveling to check on loved ones,” I chime in, “running, fighting or staying outside.”
“Exactly, the only good first option seemed to be hiding,” Liam continues. “Hide and assess the situation.”
“And try not to shit a brick in the process,” I say smiling. Liam chuckles then we both see it at the same time, a Humvee with a machine gun turret mounted on top.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” I exclaim.
We can see several of them as we approach. They are behind a fenced area but we are determined. Inside a nearby building we find a zombie manning the reception window. It’s made of the usual bullet proof glass so I take a hammer to the door knob.
“Not your first time?” Liam says in a deep, sexy voice. I just smile and keep pounding until it gives way. The zombie rushes out to get a forehead full of lead then we find the keys to the Humvees inside his desk. The key to the gate’s padlock is found on the zombie himself.
“I’m glad that the key holders never leave their post,” I say jokingly to Liam.
I unlock the padlock, open the gate and we are strolling the lot. There are eight Humvees with turrets and lots more without. Half of the turrets are larger than the other half. Liam walks up to one of the smaller ones.
“This is what we need. It’s a heaver version of my gun and uses the same ammo,” he says and then points to one of the larger turrets. “The fifty caliber is just overkill.”
“Let’s do it,” I say in the deepest, sexiest voice I can muster. I can’t keep a straight face though and turn away laughing at my own attempt. He is way better at deep sexy voices than I am.
Liam is obviously good with cars as he checks all the fluids before starting the engine. She starts right up and purrs nicely. Next we find the armory. I like how there’s always a zombie trapped in a booth with the keys that we need.
This armory is not as impressive as the first one I found, but it will do. We do find a large supply of the linked 5.56 ammo that we need for the turret and Liam’s LMG. He takes a box of ammo out to test the Humvee’s machine gun. He lays the strand across the top then closes the cover and fires some test shots at a distant building. It sounds just like his LMG to me—loud.
I step behind his vehicle as the inevitable happens; the screams which are soon followed by the running fiends. These machine guns are quite literally loud enough to wake the dead. A loose dozen or so stream in through the opened gate and Liam starts puncturing their craniums as soon as they turn the corner.
“You have got to try this,” he says, “come on up.” I climb in through the door and up the circular opening, between him and the gun.
“Try it,” he prods.
I aim down the sights and fire a short burst at the low building across the street. The shots are accurate, landing in a small grouping against the stucco surface of the building. The recoil from the gun is completely absorbed by the vehicle instead of the shooter.
“That’s nice,” I say before firing another burst.
“Here, let me show you how to load it,” he says. Liam then proceeds to show me how to operate the gun, load the linked ammo, clear a jam, etc.
He is so close to me now, brushing sparks of warm current against my skin, melting me ever so cautiously. The combination of being close to so much raw firepower and chemistry has a narcotic effect on my senses. He explains the workings of the gun to me, while I focus on the musical quality of his voice and the hidden signal embedded within the resonance of his articulations.
Liam speaks to me on levels that I’ve never experienced before; levels I never even knew existed. I hear his surface words and understand them, but there is so much more bandwidth coming from him: secret channels with strange new signals that begin to activate me in ways that I’ve never been… activated before.
The world around us disappears as my entire universe shrinks down to this five by five bubble containing only the machine gun and us. Every worry I’ve ever had seems to melt away as I begin to resonate with Liam on this new wavelength. We joke, we laugh, and we have shooting contests with far off targets: distant car windshields, a utility box, and every piece of glass within our field of view. He is a better shot than I am, but I don’t care because in this moment, I’m happy. Liam deserves to win.
It’s getting late in the day now and the voice of reason reasserts itself. It takes us almost an hour to load 100,000 rounds of linked ammo into the Humvee, but we are happy to do it. I notice the suspension bottoming out after loading over a ton of weight onto it.
“Is that going to be alright?” I say while pointing to the bottomed out rear wheels.
“She’ll live,” Liam says, “but maybe we should shift some of the weight to the front.” I help him move some of the ammo crates to the front and middle, which only has the effect of also bottoming the front suspension out.
With only an hour of daylight left we drive off, Liam in the Humvee on top of a boatload of ammunition with me following in my gray Porsche with all of our other supplies.