Chelsea was standing on the front porch, looking down the street in the direction of the noise, blatant worry in her eyes. I thought about sneaking around the back to give her a scare when I showed up behind where she was looking, but thought better of it.
I whistled a quick, sharp whistle. She didn’t hear it. I tried again, this time slightly louder and longer. Chelsea did a double take in my direction, a look of relief spread across her face. She looked up and down the street then waved me over.
I crossed without thinking, thankful that my blunder with the deli door probably was drawing any attention that would have gone my way. I leapt up onto the porch as Chelsea held open the front door for me. She closed it sharply behind my entrance, locking it too.
“What the hell happened?” she asked, helping me with the pack.
“Ugh, apparently deli front doors don’t have alarm systems, only the back ones do,” I said flopping down on the couch in exhaustion. “Oh, and we’re having hot dogs for dinner.”
“Oh, you might gain weight though!” she joked.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to ruin my figure.”
Chapter 7
I tossed the bread and hotdogs into the freezer. Once frozen, they would keep for a while longer, making it so that we had some ‘fresh’ food every now and again, not just the canned stuff. Chelsea also had the idea of filling up multiple zip lock bags with water and freezing those too. This method gave us the water that we needed, and the blocks of ice would keep the freezer cold for a short while longer if the power ever did go out.
I just shut the bottom freezer door when Chelsea returned to the kitchen. “Dogs for dinner?” I asked.
“What?” She looked astounded at my question. “Oh, yeah sure. Whatever.”
“Something wrong?” I asked.
She frowned at me, “Yeah, we don’t have ketchup,” she said sarcastically. Chelsea walked around the kitchen table and wrapped her arms around my waist. “You could have gotten killed out there today. No more of that dangerous stuff, okay?”
“But you just said that you wanted ketchup-“
“Come on, I’m being serious here!” she buried her face into my chest. “I can’t lose you, even though I already am.”
I pulled her tighter in my embrace, “Bah, I’m not going anywhere without you, and if that means going on dangerous missions to delis everywhere to get you the ketchup that you deserve, then I would do it all over again.” It felt very good saying those words to her, especially because I really meant it.
I had never been a ‘player’ in the past, but I had very little trouble getting a girl that I had my sights on. They would always tell me how much they loved me and thought that we were the perfect couple two weeks into the relationship, or what an asshole and self-centered piggish man I had become two weeks later. And I would return their words with proper affection and warmth, but it always felt as if I was saying it, not meaning it.
But I meant these words. Chelsea and I had become very close, albeit it was somewhat forced in regards to our current situation, but not in a bad way. We had been together before the contamination started, but we stayed together because of it. We were able to develop a closeness towards each other that was only possible because we had to survive together. I am actually almost thankful to the contaminated. Chelsea was all that I have, and I am all that she has. It was nice to know that someone was guaranteed to always be thinking about me, especially when the world was barely even limping along.
“I would go to the ends of the earth to get ketchup for you,” I broke the silence.
She laughed and playfully hit me on the chest, “I hate ketchup, especially when it takes you farther away from me.”
We kissed once, twice, three times, then stopped, four times. Alright, maybe more, but I am not telling you that.
“So what now?” I asked once we were done with our moment.
Chelsea looked up to me, “I don’t know. What else is there really to do? It’s not like we’re living as barbarians or anything. We have food, water, and electricity. What else more can we ask for?”
“Some TV would be nice…”
“Oh Daryl, shush yourself. We have this, which is more than many others can ask for.”
I laughed, “I’m only kidding. Besides, this is nice enough.”
“It’s starting to get dark out,” Chelsea said
“Yeah, dinner time?” I asked.
She nodded in agreement. I went to the refrigerator and pulled out a few of the hotdogs that I did not freeze so that we could have tonight. “You think I could get away with putting this on the grill?”
Chelsea seemed to be debating the thought in her head when I asked the question. “Well, the grill isn’t very noisy, but I wonder if the smell will attract any of the contaminated. That’s a decent risk just for hotdogs.”
I nodded, “But they’re better on the grill.”
“Fine,” she said uneasily. “But first sign of anything and no more grilling.”
I leapt in the air slightly with joy. Using the grill was a good thing. It made it feel as if the world was not a big shit pile of contaminated eating anything that moved. The ability to have almost a normal barbeque during such a crisis was really able to calm our nerves. Besides, everyone knows that hotdogs taste better when cooked on the grill, and it was manly. I am manly.
I started the grill and waited for it to get hot enough to put the dogs on, my eyes open for any sign of movement. I threw four
