“Pipe down chacho!”
She pulls herself back into Rosaline, their lips meeting again.
“I could kiss you all day but-”
“Let’s do that then nena.”
Blushing, her cheeks reddened, Rosaline giggles.
“We’ve got all night for that.”
“Gross.” Outlaw exclaims, having already turned away from them to resume picking fruit.
“I said pipe down!”
“We really should finish this up, only a couple hours of daylight left.”
“Ugh, fiiiiiine nena, but you’re making it up to me.”
“Making it up to you? I came to help you!”
“I said” -she leans into her partner, kissing her again- “making it” -she presses their lips together once more- “up to me.”
“Oh no, I surrender, you win.” Rosaline playfully replies.
“I always win.” the Latina says, winking at her.
“I always let you win.”
”¡Ay, bendito!” -Sweetie sarcastically pats Rosaline’s chest- "You confused little warrior.”
"Oooookay, let's pick the fruit." Outlaw says.
The women pay him no attention. Sweetie giggles again, wrapping her arms back around Rosaline's neck.
"One more, then we finish working."
Rosaline shakes her head, filled with compassion and love for the woman holding onto her so tightly. She leans up into Sweetie, their eyes close, their lips meet again, and hold longer than the previous passionate embraces.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Norman watched as Karo and Daisy turned his lost husband over onto his stomach and cut his legs open. He watched as they filled canteens and jars with the blood of the man he loves, the only person to ever make him feel like himself.
He was horrified by the event, but couldn't find the strength within himself to protest it. He knew why they were doing it, even if he couldn't hear their conversation. He's a doctor, he understands their reasoning, and the purpose for their actions, but still he finds it crude and disrespectful.
He tried to let logic take over and analyze the situation. Jack was bitten by an infected, bodily fluids transferred, there's no chance they didn't. Jack did not turn into a diseased, the infection didn't alter him, for some reason the infection didn't happen at all, not to him. The most hopeful answer to this is that Jack is immune, and a vaccine, or even a cure, can be made with his blood.
That leaves Norman with one question, who will make the cure? This is the question that troubles him the most. The prospective answer to this question surges a wave of anger and doubt throughout him.
Daisy doesn't know anyone that can do this, he doesn't know anyone that can, Patrick wouldn't know anyone that can, and Karo is banished from the place that might contain people who can do this. So, then, he wonders, how is collecting Jack's blood going to lead to anything, or benefit anyone?
Karo and Daisy fill up the last jar with Jack's blood. Karo cleans the knife and sterilizes it again, before returning it to the pouch in his backpack.
"Do you think we have enough?" Daisy asks.
"I don't know. We took as much as we can, best to have as much as possible, in case we lose some."
Her lips smack as she nods, not feeling the need to audibly reply. Norman approaches from behind them. He speaks to them, his voice low and weak.
"If you're finished mutilating my husband, I'd like you to bury him now. He's earned that."
Karo regards him for a moment, not wanting to waste anymore time in this area, but chooses not to oppose Norman. Instead, he only motions in agreement.
"When we got here I saw a shovel and some other tools behind the trailer. I'll bury him. You can rest."
The hardened man rises to his feet and leaves to retrieve the shovel. Daisy turns to Norman, her brow loose, her lips frowned, her eyes wet.
"Norman, I-I-"
He waves her off, interrupting her.
"You don't have to. I know why you did this, doesn't mean I have to like it, but I understand."
She's not sure why, but hearing him say this hits her like a truck. Her wall crumbles, and she weeps. Without warning she latches onto him, holding him tightly.
"I'm so sorry Norman, I'm so sorry."
Norman can't hold his contempt or his anger. They wash away upon feeling her embrace. The memories of his life with Jack before the outbreak come rushing to him like an unstoppable flood. Their first meeting at a mutual friend's wedding, their first date at the park, their first kiss, the first movie they watched together, the night Jack proposed, the moment he said “I do” under the setting sun, their first steps in the house they bought together, and all of the good times they experienced together, as two souls intertwined in harmony.
No, Norman isn't callous enough to hold onto the anger he's feeling. He's not that kind of person. She weeps, her tears cascade down her face, dropping onto his shoulder. She trembles, her chest convulses, she feels grief and shame. This, too, hits Norman like a truck, and he's reminded that she was Jack's friend. She knew him well, she loved him, she had her own experiences with him, and she misses her friend.
Norman's sadness overtakes him again. He drops the backpack, throws his arms around Daisy, and weeps with her. Time slips and distorts, the moment expanding out beyond the conventions of perception. He closes his eyes for what feels like a few seconds, and when he opens them again, he peers over Daisy's shoulder to see Karo piling dirt back into a hole. A hole that is nearly filled to the top.
He feels pressure against his chest and his back, hair against his cheek and his neck, and he realizes that Patrick has joined them. His head is pressed against Norman's shoulder blades, his arms are gripped together on Daisy's back. Patrick knew Jack too, and in his own way he cared about him. This isn't a loss only for him. They all grieve the tragic events of this day.
Karo smooshes the dirt on the top of the mound down, smoothing it out. He slams the shovel into the mush one
