I nodded in approval.
Dinner was nice that night. The steaks were cooked on a stovetop skillet as to not risk any outdoor activity. Chelsea seasoned the steak with a modest amount of salt and pepper, leaving me up to vegetable duty. Fortunately for me, there were still raw baby carrots in the refrigerator. Due to my unnatural hatred towards cooked carrots, I was able to weasel my way out of actually making anything for dinner while enjoying the whole bit.
We were half way through our meal when I had a bright idea, “Hold here for a minute,” I said to Chelsea. She gave me a confused look as I stood up and left the kitchen table.
I made my way into the dining room and opened up the bottom cabinet door of the hutch revealing numerous rows of wine bottles. My father had always collected wine bottles since I could remember, being an avid drinker of wine. Since he probably would not be in need of these bottles anymore, I figured that we could help ourselves.
I returned to the kitchen, hands full of wine and glasses, “Some merlot for the lady?” I said in my best waiter voice.
She smiled, holding up her wine glass, “Please, but don’t expect a tip.”
“I would never imagine,” I countered, pouring the dark red liquid into her glass. It filled and bubbled towards the top. I filled my own as well. We continued dinner, sipping on our refreshments while eating away at our fortune.
A content quiet filled the kitchen as we finished our dinner. I got up and took Chelsea’s plate. I stood above the garbage can and was about to scrape it off when a shout rang out in the twilight. It startled me so bad that I dropped the whole plate into the garbage. Fortunately it was already somewhat full, preventing the plate from breaking.
“What was that?” Chelsea asked, now on her feet.
I shook my head, “I don’t know, but it did not sound friendly.”
“Mary! What’s gotten into you?” I heard a muffled yell from outside.
“Who’s Mary?” Chelsea asked as we both exited the kitchen to get a better view of what was happening outside the front windows.
“Mary. Mary. Mary. Mary Givens!” I said in triumph. “The Givens family. They live a few houses down. We really don’t know them too well, only seeing them on rare occasions.”
“Well why is Mr. Givens in the front yard wrestling with Mary Givens?” She asked.
I shot my head around the curtain and looked out to the street and over to the Givens’ residence. Mr. Givens, a greying man in his early sixties, was grappling with his wife in his front yard. Mary Givens was about the same age, but her body was larger and hair un-greyed from anti-aging dyes.
They were pushing against each other, but something was different. Mr. Givens was holding Mary Givens’ two hands at the wrist, preventing her from moving forward. Mary Givens was trying to thrust her head forward, an attempt to bite Mr. Givens.
“She’s turned,” I said.
Chelsea looked out of the window then to me then back out the window, “How do you know?”
“Mary Givens has a bad knee. My father used to talk to the family about the surgery because he may need it one day. There is no possible way that Mary Givens would be able to resist Mr. Givens in any physical confrontation due to that knee,” I said, watching the fight. Mary kept thrusting her head in, snapping at her husband. “That, and she is trying to bite him.”
Chelsea let out a tisk, “Well I saw that. Did you know that they were staying behind?” she asked.
I shook my head, “No. I had no idea. As far as I know, we are the only ones on the street who are still around. Do you think that we should go help Mr. Givens?” I asked.
She nodded, “Yeah, it might be nice to have someone else around.”
We nodded, closing the curtains and making our way to the door. Suddenly a shriek filled the entire street. My head propped out of the front door window. Three contaminated were walking down the street towards the Givens residence, hissing and gargling all the way.
“What’s going on?” Chelsea asked, not being able to see out of the high window.
I reached out my arm and held her back, “We cannot help now.”
She looked at me, confused, “What do you mean? What happened?”
“Back to the living room,” I said. Before a second passed, we were peeking out of the front windows once more. Mr. Givens’ shoulder and arms were bloody, his wife clawing at his body. “Mr. Givens is gone.”
The contaminated that were on the street hastened their pace to a light sprint. They were on Mr. Givens in a matter of seconds, tearing him to pieces. His muffled cries died out faster than I would have expected. “Mary Givens just killed Mr. Givens,” I said.
“How can you say that? That was a contaminated, not Mary Givens,” Chelsea replied.
I nodded, pulling her away from the gruesome scene outside the window, “Exactly, Chelsea. That is why we cannot let that happen to us. If you or I turn, we have to put the other out before it is too late. We have to survive.”
Chelsea nodded, lacing her hand in my own, “We have to survive,” she repeated.
Chapter 28
“Daryl, wake up!” I was shaken awake once more. That seemed to be the story of my life in recent days. Did I mention that I hate being woken up? “Daryl!”
My eyes fluttered open, focusing on a fuzzy figured Chelsea in front of me, “What’s up?” I mumbled as my body began to wake.
“We’re
