I exhaled the breath I’d been holding and sat back on my haunches.
Clare, George, Casey, and Jess watched as the distance lengthened between the Stargazer and the undead front-runners, then they slung the rifles on their shoulders and strolled back to the vehicles.
“We’ve been through some awful things lately,” George said, “but that was easily the scariest shit I’ve ever seen.”
“I don’t know,” I replied, picking up the Ruger. “I’ve seen some pretty fucked-up shit.”
Clare leaned against the Charger as I scurried to the ground.
“Come on,” the Dodge guy pleaded. “Watch the paint job.”
“Dude, piss off,” my wife said, shooing him away with her hand. “We just saved your asses. So, I’m gonna have to ask you to go away now.”
I chuckled and kissed her cheek. Sure, we were being assholes, but if not for us, that guy might’ve never gotten the chance to drive his stupid, impractical car again.
As we cleared the city of Vicksburg, Clare and I didn’t look back at the mass of zombies behind us. We chose instead to gaze forward, upriver, where we’d hopefully find some safety and security in the wilds of northern Michigan.
But the meditative moment couldn’t last forever. I needed to lie down before I fell down.
“OK, gang, I’m officially retired for the day.” I slipped my arm around Clare’s shoulders. “Why don’t y’all hang on to the weapons—in case there’s more trouble—and let me grab some sleep?”
Casey accepted the Hawkeye. “You got it, Joe.”
George winked. “Sweet dreams, guys.”
“Yeah, won’t that be nice?” I quipped. “Just try not to wake us for a while. You know, unless a zombie’s about to eat my face off.”
Clare and I climbed into the back of the van.
Right before closing the doors, I leaned out and said, “Seriously, if you need us, don’t hesitate to bang on the side.”
George nodded. “We’ll do our best not to need you.”
“Thanks.”
I shut and locked the doors, then joined Clare by the sofa. After pulling out and making the bed, we stripped off our filthy clothes, donned some clean ones, and let Azazel out of her tiny prison. She chirped her appreciation, then disappeared into her litter box.
Clare and I crawled into bed. For a while, neither of us said a word—just lay on our sides, pressed together, breathing gently, lost in our own thoughts—or, in my case, struggling to ignore all the aches and pains assailing my battered body. Occasionally, we’d hear Azazel digging through her litter, but otherwise, the van was a quiet little sanctuary in a world gone insane.
While lying there, I wondered if I should’ve set up the shortwave radio and attempted to contact our families—or, at the very least, let John know that we’d survived our battle with the zombified scouts. But I was too damn tired. All I wanted was to relax for as long as the universe would allow.
Clare broke the peaceful silence first. “So much has happened… it feels like I lost Mom a long time ago. Can’t believe it’s been less than half a day.”
“I know, baby. And all I can say is… I’m sorry.”
“I know you are.” She sighed. “I just miss her… and seeing Jess in one of her old T-shirts…”
“I’m sorry about that, too. I should’ve asked you, but you were sleeping, and the poor kid needed some clean duds.”
“No, it’s fine,” Clare assured me. “I’m glad they’ll get some use. It’s just a reminder of what happened. Not like I need a stupid shirt to remind me.” She sighed wearily. “It’s crazy, I know, but I keep thinking I could’ve saved her.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I’d already told her how impossible that would’ve been, but I didn’t have the heart to say it again. As I lay there, not sure how to comfort her, I suddenly remembered the ring in my soggy jeans pocket.
Quickly, I tossed off the covers and scrambled over Clare.
“Where the heck are you going?”
“I just remembered…” I dug through the garbage bag of nasty clothes, plucked out the garnet-and-diamond ring, and held it aloft triumphantly. “Your mom, uh, gave me this to give to you.”
The lie had popped unbidden into my brain. I certainly didn’t want to tell her how I’d really claimed the ring.
Clare sat up. “When?”
“When we were outside the van, before she…”
Her eyes watered. “Oh.”
After coating Jill’s ring in copious amounts of hand sanitizer, I placed it in Clare’s open palm. Then, I climbed back in bed and gently pulled her into my arms.
“I know it’s hard, baby. I can’t imagine how you feel right now, but just remember… your mom sacrificed herself so we could live.”
A moment passed, then Clare whispered, “Well, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do.”
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About the Authors
D.L. Martone is the joint pen name of husband-wife duo Daniel and Laura Martone. Part-time residents of New Orleans and northern Michigan, the Martones travel the country in their mobile writing studio, a cozy RV dubbed Serenity. As you might have guessed, they’re huge fans of Firefly, which is why they remodeled the interior of their travel trailer to resemble Captain Reynolds’ beloved spaceship. Together, they enjoy writing space opera, LitRPG
