The shooting finally stopped. I spoke to Tony Osmond as he stood staring in disbelief at his mutilated friend Ollie Fredrichs. He knew Ollie would have to be shot before he could rise to attack us and wasn't taking it well.
I moved between Tony and his view of Ollie. "What happened, Tony?"
Tony shook his blond head and closed his clear blue eyes for several seconds. "I was driving as fast as I thought was safe when the front right tire dropped into a hole. Likely, it was a washed-out groundhog tunnel. I didn't see the damn thing because I was trying to keep away from the zombies, and I kept glancing to the side to see how close they were." Tony tried to see past me in his dazed condition. "It looks like that whole front steering section is wiped out." He shook his head and refocused. "My buddy, Ollie, was in the left cage. When the tractor flipped, he must have been thrown high and far and came down hard." Tears lurked at the corners of Tony's eyes as the knowledge that his friend would quickly join the undead overcame him. "I can't believe my best friend is gone."
I heard a single shot from behind me and knew Ollie had been put down after he transitioned from living to dead to undead. I put my arm around Tony's shoulders and started back to the building with him. The responders knew what needed to be done and would bring a backhoe to bury the zombies in a mass grave in the field. More guards with trucks would be stationed so workers could escape if another zombie attack occurred.
Ollie would be interred in a far corner of the field where markers identified the graves of our deceased comrades. Ollie wasn't the first friend we had lost, and unfortunately, he wouldn't be the last casualty in our small graveyard. He'd quickly join the other five people we'd all mourned for after they fell victims to the flesh-chomping zombies during the prior year.
Shana Thompson, our teacher and Tony's girlfriend, met us inside the building and hugged Tony as she consoled him and cried with him. I left them and walked to my room, so I could have a few minutes alone. Today, the constant danger and accompanying death overpowered me. I needed a few minutes alone to rejuvenate.
I sat on the edge of the bed with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. So much death. Sometimes it abated for a few days or even weeks, but it never ended. It lies in wait ready for one of us to slip up ever so slightly, so it can jump in and claim us. Fresh meat, that's all we were. Death lurked around every corner laying a trap to claim its next unwary victim.
My thoughts, as usual, turned to Emma. What the hell possessed her to leave our safe haven and run away on her own? How could she do that? We talked about safety procedures daily, and I'm positive she understood the importance of the buddy system. Why didn't she come and get me if she was going to the lake? What was so damned important that day to cause her to ignore everything we'd talked about since this damned invasion began? And her final look. What did I miss? Was she trying to tell me something? She seemed so surprised to see me. Why?
I fell backward across the width of the queen-sized mattress. Tears welled as I recalled our wedding day. We'd agreed to limit our drinks at the reception, even though we'd been intimate for over a year. She wanted our wedding night to be special and not just another night of great sex. And it was special. My God it was so special. She was so alive and giving and passionate.
A knock on the door ended my reverie. I said, "Come in," and Connie entered. She closed the door behind her as I sat up straight and then rose to my feet with a resigned sigh. She moved close, almost touching me. She reached up and grasped my head to pull me down for a kiss.
I stopped her. "No Connie, the timing isn't right. I need more time. Sorry."
The smile disappeared from her face. "I'll try to not crowd you, but I think you need someone to talk to who cares about you. I'll be here when you're ready."
I nodded and put distance between us. We left my room, and I went to the northwest watch tower to let the duty person know I was going outside to gauge the fuel tanks. I felt Connie's stare follow me until I was out of sight. I liked Connie as a friend, but Emma still consumed my thoughts and my affection. My love for my wife had burrowed much deeper than even I'd thought possible before she died. I'd never anticipated the extreme feeling of
