Z Day +1 (Continued)

  SHAE

  The detonation of the military truck caused my world to go white. A few moments later, color returned, and the flashback began again.

  It took all my strength to pull myself free of James’s nightmare. I’d been following along, a helpless observer since the moment of our bloodtouch. I jerked back to consciousness as we pulled up to Miria’s boss’s ranch.

  My original intent was to find a way to pull James out of the flashback he was in, but I couldn’t communicate with him and didn’t know what else to do. I barely made it out myself.

  The house before us was a ranch-style with Mexican accents. I moved my head to try and see better out the window.

  “You go, I’ll watch after him,” Becca said.

  I hesitated, knowing what was going on in James’s head.

  “You make things safe, then come get us,” Becca said.

  I nodded and gently laid James’s head onto the seat as I scooted out.

  “Stop, look, and listen” was something I’d pulled out of James’s head. It was from one of his zombie books, but it was still sound advice. So, I stopped where I was.

  I looked. The yard appeared to be free of shamblers. A cattle fence was about 300 meters from the house, along the main road. The gate we’d entered appeared to be closed now. The fence disappeared into trees on either side of the property, and the tree line circled the house with a good 100 meters or so of clearing between it and the house.

  The house appeared intact, with no broken windows or doors. Our two trucks were the only vehicles present. A small outbuilding to the left of the house was large enough to house a car or two, but it was shut up tight. A covered porch and a small rock flowerbed adorned the front of the house.

  I listened. The first thing I heard was all of us. I motioned for everyone to stop and listen; they followed my lead. Next, I heard the pinging and popping of the engines cooling down. Other than that, I didn’t hear anything else close. I closed my eyes and focused on the house, but after a moment, I realized there was nothing there.

  Nodding again, I fell into the rear of the group as they approached the front door. Miria tried the doorbell, which rang, to my surprise. They still had power. A minute passed, and she knocked, but there was no answer.

  “They’re not here,” Miria said softly.

  “No cars; they might be somewhere else,” Richard added.

  “Stay put,” I said and looked up at the roof. I’d seen daylight when I looked through the windows. I was guessing there was an open courtyard in the center of the house.

  “What are you going to—”

  But before Miria could finish, I jumped up, grabbed the lip of the front porch’s overhang with one hand, and swung myself up onto the flat top.

  “Wow,” Richard said.

  The house was a big rectangle with a flat roof. Just as I suspected, the center of the house was open, with a small courtyard inside. I quietly walked the perimeter of the roof, checking for any signs of shamblers around the property before dropping into the courtyard with barely a whisper.

  I had the .357 revolver still in my waist, but I’d left my rifle with Becca in the truck. All the doors and windows were intact here as well. I quickly glanced through each door, but everything appeared untouched. I unlocked and opened the front door for the others.

  “Place appears to be empty. Everything looks normal.” I pointed at Richard, “Help me clear the place to make sure.”

  He briefly looked at Miria and then followed me. We made short work of the place. I checked every room, closet and cupboard big enough for a child to hide or be trapped in. It was empty. There were several rooms, but only one bedroom. The living room, dining room, study, and office were all fully furnished. The pantry, fridge, and chest freezer were all full.

  With the house cleared, I checked the separated building I guessed was a garage out front. It was still locked, and I heard nothing inside when I knocked. I figured we’d find keys in the house somewhere, so I left it alone and returned to the truck.

  “Everything good?” Becca asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, opening the back door.

  “No change with him, I’m afraid,” Becca said.

  James appeared to be asleep now. His eyes had closed, and his breathing seemed to be normal. I didn’t want to wake him up, so I gently pulled him out and carried him into the house. I went to the study. It had an oversized couch on the other side of the house from the kitchen and living room, where most of the noise would come from. I laid him down and propped his head up. I retrieved a wet washcloth from the bathroom and folded it, laying it across his eyes.

  I gently touched his forehead. The mental wall was definitely gone now; he was sleeping. I sighed with relief and turned to examine the room. Bookshelves were built into the walls, full of books and knickknacks—a small desk and computer set off to one side by the window.

  “Windows,” I heard Richard say as I approached the front room where everyone was gathered. “This place has A LOT of windows. We need to board and cover them to keep light from getting out. We need to turn this place into a bunker,” Richard said.

  “How’s James?” Miria asked when I came into the room.

  “Seems fine, just sleeping. I think everything’s catching up to him,” I said.

  “He does need the rest,” Miria nodded. “How’s the...uh...”

  “Blood?” I tried to supply helpfully, knowing how she felt about it. “I haven’t seen him with the shakes since last night. I think it might work.”

  She didn’t say anything else.

  “I’ll keep an eye on him, promise,” I tried a slight grin.

  She just nodded and turned back to the group.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  *Oh well, so much for trying,* I thought. It didn’t matter; I wasn’t here for them. I was here for him. He seemed to be the key to a piece of my past I was beginning to believe in.

  Someone found the keys to what I’d thought was a garage out front, but it turned out to be a workshop. Someone liked making large wooden signs. We used the wood we found to barricade the house and cleared enough space to get both trucks backed into the workshop.

  I pulled a couple of ladders from the workshop and set two up in the courtyard and a third lying on the roof. When they asked me about the third, “It’s so we can get in and out. I mean, once we board up the doors, we’ll need a way in and out.”

  They looked at me as if I were crazy, all but Richard. He seemed to agree with me. The rest wanted to be able to get out of the house quickly if they needed to. They didn’t want to use ladders when two perfectly good doors were available. I didn’t argue with them. But they didn’t move the ladders either.

  James somehow managed to stay asleep through all the noise we made. We’d only had to stop working once. Someone had spotted a shambler coming out of the tree line behind the house, obviously drawn to the noise. I took care of it quickly and quietly, using one of James’s appropriated machetes. After that, someone was always on the roof, keeping watch.

  I jogged a quick perimeter circuit, looking for how our unwanted visitor had gotten in. A small tree had fallen on part of the fence, making a large hole anyone could have walked…or shambled through. I patched it as best I could and noted that we’d need to fix it properly later.

  I was coming in the house's back door when suddenly, my legs went out on me. They just stopped, and I fell, managing to catch myself before I hit the floor.

  My head was swimming when I stood back up. It took a minute for the room to stop spinning, and Miria was there staring at me when it did. I wasn’t sure if it was a hallucination from my hunger or what, but she looked as if she was concerned.

  “It’s OK,” I said weakly, “just a little tired, that’s all,” I lied. I didn’t want to appear weak in front of this woman for some reason. I don’t know if it was because she seemed most opposed to me or what. Regardless, I was hungry.

  I’d been pushing my hunger to the back of my mind with all the insanity going on. I should have had a proper feed, but that wasn't possible, with events being what they were. I considered going out alone, but after that little display, I was worried I might collapse again.

  Miria’s hand on my arm brought my mind back into focus as she gasped in surprise.

  “Christ, you’re freezing!” My cold was radiating through my clothes. Without another word, she led me to the study Mark and Becca had claimed as a room. She walked me over, sat me down in one of the leather armchairs, and then turned to Mark, “Feed her,” was all Miria said and left the room, closing the door behind her.

  *Giving orders seems to be a family trait,* I thought as I watched Miria go.

  Mark and Becca looked at one another and then at me.

  “No, this isn’t awkward at all,” I shrugged.

  “We need everyone we can get now, even you,” I heard Miria say through the door, but she was gone when I looked.

  *Progress?* I wondered.

  “OK,” Mark chuckled nervously, “so...how...”

  “Come here,” I motioned to him, honestly afraid to stand up at the moment.

  I thought back and realized how stupid I’d been for pushing myself this far. With our current conditions, I couldn’t afford this level of foolishness. It was like the longer I was near James, the stupider I got. I had to be better prepared.

  Mark came and sat with me in the oversized chair. He looked up at Becca, who read his nervous face and came over to sit next to us on the floor, holding his hand.

  I didn’t make any jokes at his expense. He had a right to be afraid. I’d been terrified every time I’d been in his place all those years ago. I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts of the past.

  “OK, this...” I started, slightly out of breath, my mouth watering of its own volition. That was embarrassing, and I swallowed to cover my awkwardness. “This is going to be much easier than with James. For him, we had to be careful because we weren’t sure what would happen.” I continued to explain, “So, I’ll make the cut and drink at the same moment. By doing this, the pain is almost instantly gone and will be over much quicker.”

  I sighed. “I’ve gone a bit longer than I should have without feeding. I’ll need more than we gave James, but nowhere near enough to harm you. Not even as much as you’d give at the blood bank.”

  “Why not ask Richard?” Becca asked, “If you need extra.”

  “I don’t think Miria would like that,” I said honestly.

  “Well then, I’m more than willing—” Becca started.

  “Thanks, Becca, but...I have a feeling James may need you again when he wakes up. He really shouldn’t be sleeping this long,” I said.

  “Oh,” Becca replied.

  “Ready?” I turned to Mark, whose face had turned a little white.

  “I don’t like needles that much. To be honest, I was always afraid to donate blood. A cookie and juice never seemed worth it, you know?” he chuckled nervously again.

  “Trust me,” I said, lacing my voice with a bit of sultry. “I’ll make this worth your while.” I winked at Becca, where only she could see.

  His blush made me smile, and in a flash, I was holding his arm to my mouth, drinking from him. In my rush, I almost forgot to deaden the pain in his mind, but I remembered just in time, and a blissful expression came across his face.

  His warmth slid down my throat and was excruciatingly hot. As it hit my stomach, waves of flame started moving through my body almost instantly. I hadn’t noticed my circulatory system had shut down until Miria told me how cold my arm was. Now it started up again, hard, hot, and fast. A tingling sensation crawled across my skin as my nerve endings fired back up.

  That was my cue. As soon as I could feel my fingers rubbing the tiny hairs on the back of my wrist, I knew I had as much as I needed. It was an old method, but it still worked. Of course, I wanted more, but I couldn’t risk harming Mark. I began closing the wound while I gave Mark some mental urges to remember me by. Becca could thank me later.

  Now properly energized, I left the two of them there, telling them not to move, and headed towards the kitchen, but Miria had been faster than I and met me at the door. She handed me a glass of orange juice and a paper plate with cookies.

  “You beat me to it. Thank you,” I said as I took the plate and glass, my hand brushing against hers.

  “You’re...warm now,” she said, distracted. “You’re welcome,” she added as an afterthought, her mind pondering something else.

  I set the cookies in his lap, careful not to brush his arousal, and handed him the glass. “See, OJ and cookies aren’t so bad, are they?” I tried for a bit of humor.

  Looking up at me with wide eyes, he said, “No,” and then turned to Becca, “Not bad at all.”

  Knowing where this was going, I said, “And I’ll just leave you two to it then,” before bowing out of the room.

  I sighed, giving myself a moment to enjoy the memory of youth. Not mine, theirs.

  Sunlight was streaming through the courtyard now that the sun had started descending towards the horizon. I walked out into it, pulling my outer shirt off revealing the sports bra I was wearing beneath. I always kept a change of clothes in my bike’s saddle bags. If I hadn’t, I’d still be wearing that boffer outfit from the park.

  I slowly turned in the sun, stopping to face it, eyes closed, arms outstretched as the rays warmed my skin beyond even what the fresh blood did. A post-orgasmic smile spread across my face as I enjoyed the blood afterglow in addition to the sun’s kiss on my skin.

  I had to have been basking there 10 minutes, when someone cleared their throat.

  “Wow,” that someone said.

  I turned, opening my eyes to find Trish staring at me, open-mouthed, as she leaned against a post.

  I slid my shirt back on and pulled my hair out of it. “What?”

  “I thought vampires burned up in the sun.”

  “We do,” I sighed, “but I’ve got SPF two million on right now.” Then I thought about the genuine possibility those treatments wouldn’t be available much longer. “It will wear off soon, so I have to enjoy the sun while I can.”

  “How long?” Trish asked.

  “A week at the outside,” I said.

  “That’s sad,” Trish said.

  “It is what it is. Not a lot I can do about it. Still, it beats the alternative,” I said with a shrug.

  The silence lengthened.

  “You’re gorgeous, by the way. In case you didn’t know,” Trish said quickly.

  “Oh?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Just then, you were standing so still I thought you were one of those Greek Goddess statues I’d seen pictures of.”

  I felt a bit of warmth creep into my cheeks. It had been a while since I’d had cause to blush. I wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “It wasn’t until you started crooning that I snapped out of it,” Trish said.

  “Crooning?” I asked.

  “Well, more like purring,” she said.

  “I do not purr.” I was abashed that I’d relaxed and let my guard down with these people I’d just met. Or had I met them before? I was starting to get confused with all the he-said, she-said memories.

  “Whatever. I just wanted to say you were pretty,” Trish shrugged and turned back towards the kitchen.

  “Thank you,” I managed to get out, still a little shocked.

  Trish waved at me without looking back and went inside.

  *What an odd girl,* I thought.

  I regularly checked up on James, each time checking to make sure he was still asleep and not lapsed back into his nightmares. I was sitting backward in a desk chair across from him, lost in thought when he finally stirred.