Dreams And Screams

You think you’re so smart

You think you’re so cool

When I punched you

And screamed leave me alone

I didn’t mean it you fool

It’s been weeks

Since I said I just need time

Blocking everyone out of my life

Waiting for my friends

To actually ask if I’m fine

It’s been so long since I’ve died

I smile and I play

But only in the day

At night, in my dreams, I still scream

Help me

I saw it coming

But I didn’t give myself time to mourn

More problems

Every day something new

Now I just look into the world with scorn

Working all the time

Are the hours stress or relief?

I have guilt now

Whenever I play

Shut the Hell up, I give myself enough grief

It’s been so long since I’ve died

I smile and I play

But only in the day

At night, in my dreams, I still scream

Help me

I shouldn’t have to ask

You say you have my back

Then why can’t you read me?

Why do you see right through?

Guess I have to pick up on the slack

Here I go

Listen close

It’s been so long since I’ve died

I smile and I play

But only in the day

At night, in my dreams, I still scream

Help me

Chapter Twenty-One

Lila stays behind to watch the kids play in the sun for a second day. The rest of us pack up and begin our walk down the shoreline. After about twenty-minutes we come across the first house. It is small and a rental sign is sticking up out of the burnt front yard, a vacation home.

The screen door creaks as I open it, but the second storm door is locked. As a rental property I look under the cute frog ornament on the patio. There is a key taped to the underside. We go inside and the place smells musty. It is dusty and cramped with fishing rods, old cooking pots, netting, and an assortment of mismatched furnishings, more of a fishing cabin than a vacation renta.

We raid the cabinets, but it looks like this place was empty before the shit hit the fan because all we find are utensils in the kitchen. We explore anyways and luck would have it there are four expensive looking fishing poles stowed away in a ratty old closet. We leave the cabin and set the fishing poles on the shore for our walk back. We continue down the shore and we find much of the same, rental houses that were empty in May and empty today.

The houses gradually become nicer though, homes and not rental properties. We near one on a small hill. The windows blindingly reflect the sunlight on the lake and we walk up to the back porch. The back door is unlocked. We slip inside and it looks like whoever was here had packed up and left in a hurry. They left behind a lot.

We fill our bags with canned goods, boxes of pasta, and bags of flour and sugar. I explore a bathroom for pills and find a full bath on each floor of the three-story home with a finished basement. The place is decorated with seashell art made out of little zebra mussel shells and pretty stones. There are a few polished Petoskey stones in a curio cabinet.

“You know I wouldn’t have left this place,” Carl states, filling up his bag with the last of the goods. I look around and understand what he is saying. The place is perfect save for the back of the house having so many windows. The house is built for Michigan winters. There are storm doors, a sturdy foundation, and it’s elevated. There are not too many windows either except in the back so the view of the lake can be seen, but even then that half is facing water.

“Think we’ve found our new home?” I ask.

Dad is the first to respond. “Looks good to me.”

We walk back to our campsite when the sun is telling me it may be 4 o’clock. We find Lila sitting on a stump while Harris and Robin nap on a blanket in the sand.

“They’ve had a rough day,” she laughs.

“Well they might get to sleep in a bed soon.”

“We found a place?” she asks.

I nod with a smile. And as I smile it hurts. I know that Mom would have loved that house. She loved the lake. I feel a hole knowing she didn’t make it here with us. Emily would have loved it, too. She was an avid outdoors person.

Tom comes up behind me and puts his hand on my shoulder. He gives me a look that says my face wasn’t hiding my feelings. I smile back at him, but it feels hollow.

We pack everything but our sleeping gear up for the night. We are leaving for the house first thing in the morning. I take the first watch tonight. Soon all I hear are waves from the lake and snoring from the tents.

I sit alone on an old driftwood log as the moon rises high in the night sky. The stars are amazing. I see a moving star, and I realize it is a satellite. It is still orbiting the Earth even after we have massacred ourselves. It’s beautiful floating among the stars. I blink and I lose it in the Milky Way. It’s getting cold. The lake provides a steady breeze this late in the summer. I shiver.

“Need a blanket?” The voice belongs to Lila.

“Yeah, thanks,” I say. She hands me an old blue blanket and sits on the sand with her own orange one. We sit in silence and look up at the stars each in our own world. But it is a fake world. We are each trying so hard not to notice the other.

“So, almost everyone is dead,” she says to the sky.

“Yeah,” is all I can muster to utter.

“You know I envy you, Zoe. Most people now, well I’m assuming since we haven’t met too many, are giving up. I’ve given up. I think about leaving this group just about every night. All day when you all were gone I thought about how easy it would be to just get up and walk into the lake and never stop. And yet I watch you, listen to you. You take care of us. You are the one person I haven’t caught with their pants down. Your dad, well, he’s practically catatonic since, well, yeah.”

“You think I’m taking care of you guys?” I can’t believe it. I feel like I am breaking apart at the seams. I miss everyone. I want to give up and go home and watch Disney movies with my mom.

“Well, yeah. No one else keeps going like you do. I keep waiting for you to give up too. Then we can all sit in one place and starve to death in silence. I think you can give up now. No one will blame you if you take a break from life.”

I know she is trying to be sympathetic. Trying to be a friend, but it stuns me. How can I give up when my mom would have wanted otherwise? She would have kept going. She did keep going. She lived a good life with its own tragedies. She fought for her life until the very end, and she will kick my ass when I get to Heaven if I give up on everything. It is my job to make a life for my family and myself.

“Carl and Tom help out a lot,” is all I can say. I don’t carry it alone.

“Yeah…you don’t see it though. Without you, they would be lost, too.”

We pass time in silence. The moon is sinking.

“I can finish the watch,” she says, not looking at me. I get up and head to bed to get a few hours of sleep while I can. I can’t talk to Lila like I used to. It had always been the three of us, without Emily it feels forced. I feel talking to anyone except Dad and Carl about how I feel is about as useful as talking to Persistence about how I feel.

We pack everything up in the morning and head down the shore. The sun is rising over the sand dunes, and there is an early morning chill coming off of the water. Dad ends up carrying Robin to the house. She is asleep as he sets her down on a couch when we get inside. Harris lies down next to her and crashes. I stay to organize our belongings along with Dad. The other three head out to the other houses near here.

The first full day in our new hopefully home is busy. I organize everyone’s part because when we wake up we are all just standing around the kitchen looking at the place. I ask Dad to work on the kitchen, Lila bedrooms, Tom yard, Carl and I on watch, and Byron is babysitting. After a few hours of watching the front of the house I trade off with Dad. An hour after that Tom comes inside with an armful of wood.

“Place looks nice.” He sets the wood down by the fireplace in the living room.

“Yeah, I’m hopeful about it.” I smile at him.

Tom grabs the few cans of refried beans and corn I have pulled out for dinner. With some cumin and chili powder we found in a lazy susan, we can almost call it a Tex Mex meal. He rummages in the drawer for a can opener and begins preparing the food.

“I’ve got a fire going outside.”

“Ok, good. I’ll help you cook.” I grab an old beat up pan. One of the only ones the family that lived here left behind. I head out the back door and see the fire in the corner of the yard towards the lake. Tom follows me out. I set the pan in the embers off to the side and let the food heat up. Tom stirs the pan and sprinkles the spices on top. The smells reach my nose, and I realize how hungry I am.

“Do you still have that necklace I gave you?” Tom has moved behind me.

“Yeah, I wear it underneath all of my clothes.”

“Ok, good. I’m glad. Robin said you were the coolest big sister ever earlier. I think she’s adopted you.” He laughs and slips his hand on my hip. It feels weird, out of place. It isn’t Brian’s hand, and I didn’t invite it to be there. I step forward to shift the pan in the fire, letting his hand fall off of me.

“Can you go find everyone and tell them dinner is ready? I’ll get the plates set up.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Tom says. I can tell he wants to say more, but he leaves when I don’t turn to face him.

I carry the pan of food inside and set it on the table I dusted off earlier. I hear the kids running down the stairs.

“I’ll help!” Harris says. He and his sister are right by my side. I hand Harris a stack of mismatched plates and Robin the spoons. By the time Robin lays the last spoon down everyone comes into the kitchen at once except for Dad on watch. Everyone fills up their plate, and I make one up for myself and carry it up the stairs. I find Dad in what was the master bedroom.

“Hey, Dad, go downstairs and eat. It’s my turn.” He gets up and hands me his shotgun. He walks out of the door with a tiny, silent smile. He’s been thinking too much. I can tell. I settle down on the bed where I can watch out of the window and eat my food. The beans make me thirsty and I swallow over and over again to get the last few bites down my throat. I wish I had thought to bring water with me. I settle down on the floor and grab the shotgun and set it across my lap. I sit and stay like this until the sun begins to cast a red glow over the sky. I hear footsteps come up behind me, and I turn to see Tom in the doorway.

“Dishes are all done except for yours.” He moves to go sit on the bed by my empty plate. “So anything out there?”

“Not that I’ve seen. It’s pretty though. There are so many trees up here. No subdivisions, no huge stores, just trees.”

“It is nice. We might be able to stay here forever. Start over.” He inches towards me. Something in his voice sounds strange, nervous. “Zoe, have you ever thought about us?”

Oh crap.

“Tom, look, I know it’s the end of the world and everything, but I am sure I am not the last girl on the planet.”

“I know that. I just, well, you know, I trust you. Since we were kids I’ve always loved your smile and hair, and how you stress out about things being perfect, like when finals came around. I just…care about you.”

This is not a conversation I want to be having right now. “Tom, I. We’ve all been through a lot.”

“Yes, we have.” He moves a fraction of a centimeter closer.

“I don’t want to deal with a relationship right now. I can’t be emotionally involved with someone. My head is still messed up.”

“Zoe, it’s been almost a month. I can talk to you. Let me help.”

“Tom.” I think about how long I have known him. How he makes me laugh, and how his good nature always seems to put me in a better mood. Maybe I have been looking at Tom the wrong way, maybe. “I need time.”

“Ok, well fortunately we probably have all the time in the world.” He smiles at me and takes my plate downstairs.

Byron comes up to relieve me about an hour later. I hand the gun off to him and head out the door. I get to the top of the stairwell to go down to the couch I like to sleep on in the living room when I start crying. I don’t understand it, and I completely understand it all at the same time. I sit down on the first step and sob. I think about how when I was in elementary school Mom made Saturday afternoons a girl’s day out. For years we went shopping and got egg rolls together. I would tell her about the boy I liked, or the last test I took, and I sob harder because I know I will never share another egg roll with my mother ever again.

“Hey.” I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up to see Tom.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” I wipe tears away.

“Couldn’t sleep anyways, been thinking about my parents. You, too?”

I nod my head. He sits down next to me so that our arms are touching. I lean my head on his shoulder and the tears start again. Not as heavy, but they are there. He shifts his arm and puts his hand on the back of my head. He pets my hair, and it feels good, like my mom used to do when I was a little kid to sooth me. We sit like this for an hour, or so it feels.

“Do you want to sleep in my room? That couch has got to be getting old downstairs.” I nod.

We get up and head to his room. I sit on his bed and wipe the last of my tears away. He grabs a bottle of water off the nightstand and hands it to me as he sits next to me. I drink it all greedily before setting the bottle back down on the table. I look around the room. It isn’t small and it isn’t big. There are pictures of the lake on the walls, all shadows in the night. It has the feel of an extra guest bedroom.

“Tom, thanks.”

“Thank you, too, Zoe. For being my friend, trying to tutor me, letting me stay with your family, and caring about my family, too. Thank you.” He leans in and kisses me. I don’t pull away this time like I did from his touch earlier. It feels good. It clears my mind, and it feels better and more right than any kiss I’ve had in my life.

I wake up in the morning next to Tom. He has me pulled in close. I look up at him and see he is still out cold. I smile, and then I feel guilty. Only a month ago I shot my boyfriend. I wriggle out of Tom’s arms and slip out of the bedroom to run a brush through my hair in the bathroom down the hall. I am the first one awake, but not for long. Soon Tom heads downstairs. He smiles at me and sits down next to me on the couch I should have slept on last night. He plants a kiss on my cheek. I open my mouth to say something, but I hear my Dad’s heavy footsteps on the stairs a moment later. With both of them sitting at the table I think about what needs to be done today.

“Tom and Carl can go check out the houses near here for supplies. Dad I figured you might want to check out the attic of this place with me. Unless you want Lila and I to do it.”

“No, it sounds fine to me.”

Soon everyone is awake and moving. I wave goodbye to Carl and Tom. The guys don’t come back until the sun is high in the sky. I am in the kitchen grabbing canned goods that I can throw together to make lunch for everyone when I see them heading up through the back yard. Only there aren’t two of them. There are five.

I size them up as they approach the back porch. There appears to be two guys and a girl. They may all be in their mid to late 20’s by the look of it. The taller of the two guys has tattoos all over his arms. His hair is short and he keeps his face clean shaved despite the end of the world. He is wearing a white tee shirt and faded, dirty jeans. The second guy has slightly longer hair, but not past his ears. He doesn’t have any tattoos that I can see at this distance, and he wears a faded green polo and tan shorts. He has a darker complection than the other guy. The girl walks in between the two new guys. She is shorter and pudgy in the middle but not fat; she has long brown hair that sways near her ass. She wears a lot of bracelets and necklaces that glint in the sunlight.

I meet them at the back door. Tom leads the way in and stops next to me, “Zoe, meet Sandra, Adonis,” he gestures towards the tall guy, “and George.” Sandra and George each give small shy waves. Adonis gives a confident smile. “We uh, found them in a cabin, and,” Adonis cuts him off.

“And I suggested we join up instead of shooting each other,” he holds his hand out to me, “It’s nice to meet you, Zoe. Tom here has told us all about you guys. May we stay with you? Tom says you’re in charge.”

I look at Tom, a little stunned. I open my mouth and at first nothing comes out. I say the first thing that comes to my mind, “You’re a little cocky aren’t you?”

Adonis just laughs, “I was trying to make a good first impression so you didn’t kick us out. My brother, his wife and I, well we miss other people. I think we need a group to build with.” I stare at him. I’m hard pressed to let someone stay with us. I just met for more than a night. I think of Susan and how she screwed us all over. “Well, I can see the great leader needs to think before giving her permission.”

“Screw you,” I say.

“Hey, sorry, Zoe, right?” It’s George. “I apologize for my brother. He can be a bit of an asshole, but what he really means to say is we are good people who are just tired of living alone in this crap world, and we want some normality.”

“Please?” Adonis says giving me puppy eyes. I realize his eyes are a very light blue, making the pupils stark in comparison.

“My wife’s pregnant,” George says.

Sandra hits him in the shoulder, “I am not!” She looks at me, “I am not, but we are desperate.”

“Fine,” I say, “but I’m not the leader. Stay here until you screw us over.” With that I walk back over to the kitchen and pull out two more cans to feed the extra mouths.

Turns out at dinner that Adonis is great with Harris and Robin. He plays trucks with them with some old toys we found in the basement of this place. All I hear is zoom zoom, boom, as I clear the table after dinner. Sandra is trying to win us over. She made conversation with my dad about the weather up here and the beauty at dinner and is now down at the lake with a bucket collecting water to do dishes in. George is a silent guy, but he mentions a few things that show he actually cares about life. He offered his help in making a fence that can include this house and the two smaller houses next door to it.

Over the next few weeks they all prove useful. We build a makeshift fence around this house and the small little cabin next door. I lead the trips to find supplies and drift wood with Lila and Carl. Dad, Tom, George, and Adonis stay behind and work with what we have for the fence and strengthening the homes. Sandra keeps the meals coming and entertains the kids. When the fortification is complete Sandra and George plan on moving into the house next door.

We are lucky that it appears most of the houses here were empty at the time the outbreak started because I have only had the pleasure of killing five zombies in two weeks. We are unlucky that it appears most of the houses here were empty at the time the outbreak started because we are running low on supplies other than fish. The days are getting colder and I want to have a good stock before winter arrives and the lake freezes over. We find bikes in a shed a few houses away and use them to take our explorations farther out.

I find myself busy by day and crying by night. I have taken to staying on the couch downstairs again. I hate sleeping. I stay up late at night just thinking, and I want to be alone. I tell myself that if I think about my mom as the last thing before I fall asleep then she will be in my dreams, but her face appears less and less. I wake up scrambling my brain to try and remember my dreams, searching for any trace of my mom.

I’ve completely given up on praying to God. The last time I tried I snapped at Him. I swore He’d help me find the bastards that started this apocalypse or I’d never forgive Him. I know that is wrong, that my faith is running out. So I believe it is better to be silent towards God than angry.

I am lying on the couch staring at the shadows on the ceiling. It has to be at least one in the morning. I feel something on my hand, crawling. I look down and I see a huge wolf spider on my pale skin. I shake it off, but now I feel more. I throw off the blanket. I am covered in spiders, my legs, feet, and stomach are wriggling with the fuzzy arachnids!

I jump off the couch screaming. “Get them off me!” The back door opens and Adonis runs over to me. I am jumping up and down and running my hands through my hair to get them off my body.

“Hey!” he yells at me.

“Get them off! I hate spiders!”

He grabs me by the shoulders and spins me to him, “There are no spiders!”

“Yes there are, on the couch, look!” I walk over and point to the couch. There is nothing there. I cautiously grab the blanket and shake it out. The couch is clean.

“You dreamt them, Zoey. You were snoring when I came downstairs.”

“I felt them…”I say.

“I think you are just exhausted.” He brushes the rat’s nest of hair I’ve created out of my face. I feel like a little kid again, comforted by this.

“Why were you outside?” I ask.

He moves to my couch bed and sits. I find a seat on the floor facing him, still nervous about the spiders that felt so real. “I was just thinking, you know, we all have nights like that now where we can’t sleep.”

I nod. He continues, not sounding arrogant like he usually is at all, “I’ve lost a lot of people in the past few months. We all have. Sometimes I like to go outside and look at the stars. It reminds me how small I am and that life goes on. I am not the only one who has dealt with death, even though it’s fresh. Things will be normal again.”

“I lost my mom,” I tell him. He looks at me strangely and moves to sit on the floor with me.

“Are you feeling okay? You aren’t exactly Miss Emotions.”

“Yeah, I just, you just kind of put things in perspective for me. I lost my boyfriend, best friend and Mom all right in a row thanks to this shit.”

“That’s why I wanted to join you guys. There is safety in numbers.”

“Only my friend died from zombies. I shot my boyfriend, and my mom had cancer. She might have lived a little longer if the world didn’t take a dive.”

“I’m sorry…you shot your boyfriend?” In the dark I see the shadow of his hand move to what I am sure is a weapon on his hip.

I laugh bitterly. He looks concerned. “He lost it. He tried to kill my mom before the cancer did. He thought he was saving me from pain. Then he killed a woman. She might have deserved it, but you don’t just kill. He would have killed Tom, too, if I hadn’t shot him.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes. Then he starts, “Have you noticed Sandra has gained weight fast?”

“Um, well, kind of now that you mention it.”

“I think she’s pregnant and won’t admit it to herself.”

“Well then we are all really screwed, aren’t we? You’re the one that said life would get normal again. It’s a start.”

He laughs, “Yeah,” and he leans over and hugs me. I am shocked at first, but then I melt into his arms. We sit in an embrace for what seems like an hour, letting ourselves be weak like humans need to be sometimes.

“I’m too freaked out to sleep on that couch,” I whisper into his ear after a moment.

A large and rough hand weaves between my fingers. My heart rate increases. He pulls me gently, and I stand up to follow him. He leads me up the stairs to the den area where he has laid layers of quilts on the ground to create a sleeping area.

Good. I just want to feel good. I can’t remember the last time I could clear my mind and relax.

I let go of his hand and pull my shirt off over my head.

His eyes seem to shine in the dark, looking at my skin. I reach behind me to undo my bra clasp, but he reaches his hand out to stop me. Firmly, he pulls on my hands until they are at my sides. Then he runs his calloused fingers down the sides of my stomach. One hand reaches for my right hand and the other glides along my back. I feel the tiny metal clasps break free of each other, and I am pulled down into the nest of quilts on the floor.

I forget every bad thing that has happened to me as the warmth of his breath brushes down my neck and he pulls a blanket over the two of us.