Chapter 2

Shane and Gena began to settle into an unspoken routine. Shane would get up with the sun, make breakfast, then go off to do his own work, fixing up the ATV he found or checking his traps. Gena would rise around eight, eat the breakfast he left aside for her, and work until the garden until noon. Luckily, Gena had brought her father's gardening almanac, and slowly she brought the tomatoes back from the dead. She also nursed some okra and summer squash she discovered growing in the next rows over; the prior owners of this house must have had a green thumb.

At noon, they would both come back inside and Gena would fix lunch, typically canned beans or other nonperishable delicacies cooked on the camper stove Shane had set up. She always felt a pang of guilt when she opened the pantry and saw Shane's food supply rapidly slipping, but Gena rationalized that if he wanted her gone, he would tell her to get; besides, she was pulling her own weight.

After lunch, she would work around the house while Shane would do scavenging runs. She learned how to do laundry without modern appliances, washing in the downstairs tub and hanging on a clothesline out back. Finally, dinner would come around; Gena started to make it around five so she would always have it ready by the time Shane came back from his runs. Dinner was Gena's favorite time. The night would come around and calm the atmosphere, waking the cicadas and quieting the birds. It was almost peaceful. Gena could always get Shane to talk more around this time.

"Find anything?" She asked from the stove when Shane came in. The duffel bag looked suspiciously empty.

"Nah. Any place within a fifteen mile radius is cleaned out. Thinking about taking the ATV further out tomorrow to see if there's anything."

Gena nodded. She was nervous about him being gone for so long, even if she was perfectly safe. The idea of being alone left her smarting, but damned if she told him that. Lord knows he had already done enough for her. She placed a bowl of rice and beans in front of him and got him a glass of water from their reservoir.

"So what about you?" She asked after she had finished eating. "Did you ever have a group?"

Shane looked up at her briefly. "Once. Long time ago though."

"What happened?"

"I left. They kicked me out. It was a mutual parting."

"May I ask why?" Gena gently prodded.

Shane stopped eating. "I did some shitty things. Really shitty things. Stuff I'm not proud of. Stuff I wish I could take back." He looked off into the distance and scoffed.

"Thought I was in love with a woman. Thought that if I could just remove these obstacles in my path, then we could be together. It wasn't until much later that I realized I was in love with the idea of her." Shane lost the faraway look in his eyes. Gena couldn't help but think of the woman he had loved; where was she now?

"What about you? What happened with your group?" Shane asked a little while later. Gena rose and collected the dishes.

"We met up just outside of Newnan, where I was staying with family when the epidemic hit. It was a pack of six, three girls and three guys. The leader was Francis, a corporate drone who thought himself something of a Rambo. I couldn't stand his ego but I stayed with him because he did have some good ideas once and awhile." Gena thought of Francis's soft face, his chin hidden in a layer of fat. [Come on, Gena. Just a little kiss. I deserve it!] Gena shied away from that memory and kept talking, her hand moving in a rhythmic motion on the plate as she washed.

"Well, one time we found a house that had two men living in it. Hunters, they seemed like. They invited us in and gave us a place to sleep. However, when they were gone Francis began to rant about how it was our right to own this place, how we should steal it from them and kick them out. I argued, got slapped, then Francis began to think he could take something that wasn't his. He dragged me outside. The damn other four just stood there, ignoring my screams. Fortunately, the hunters came back before he could….I ran away why they beat him up and was running ever since." Gena wiped a tear that came from the corner of her eye. She jumped when she felt Shane's hand on her shoulder, turning her. His other hand came under her chin, lifting her face.

"I'm sorry, Genie. This leader Francis sounds like a coward and an asshole. If I had been there, I would've…" Gena watched a dark shadow pass over his face. She knew where his thoughts were going and she tried to redirect them. She put a hand on his chest.

"Hey. It's ok. I've moved on, it's made me stronger." She smiled. "I'm fine. No harm no foul." Shane looked back at her. They seemed to realize their closeness, yet neither moved. Gena felt his heart beat pick up. She gulped and licked her lips. Shane watched the action. He cocked his head, coming closer. Gena closed her eyes

The sound of ringing bells came crashing in. Shane jumped back and grabbed his rifle from the table.

"Stay inside." He said, brushing past her. Gena looked out the window. Five walkers were ambling outside and Shane was heading right towards them. She flinched when he bashed their heads in with the butt of his gun. His violence seemed to intensify with each hit. She looked back down at the sink and thought of what was about to happen. Shane was going to kiss her. And she had wanted him to. Right? Gena was never one to have men at her doorstep; she was always too invested in her reading to go and socialize. Yet Gena knew that she was attracted to Shane, and he to her. But he seemed skittish, like he wasn't ready to take another step. And that's fine. Gena told herself. The last thing she needed was added drama in her life. Let it go, Gena. She told herself. Still, she couldn't stop thinking of his hand on her shoulder, the way his muscles felt under her hand. Stop it. She shook herself and pulled the stopper from the sink.

The next day, Gena saw even less of Shane than she normally did. She figured he was hiding out from the events of last night. Nothing happened, she reasoned. I can be the mature one in this situation. She went on with her morning as usual; some of the squash and tomatoes were ready to be plucked, so she took a couple and went inside to wash them.

Humming an old Ella Fitzgerald song to herself, she opened the door and backed into the room.

" Need help with that?" She gasped and turned. Shane was near the sink, shirtless and holding his hand over his arm.

"Uh, no. I'm fine. What happened to your arm?" Blood was spilling through his fingers.

"Cut myself trying to hang some razor wire. It's just a little cut."

"Yeah, a little cut on infected, dirty razor wire that seems to be bleeding profusely. Let me have a look."

She carefully set the vegetables on the table and walked over. The wound was a single gash running the length of his forearm.

"Well, luckily for you, it's a shallow cut." She reached across him for the soap.

"So I get to keep the arm?" He joked. She smiled.

"Maybe just this once." She put his arm in the water and ran the soap over the cut. He was admirably silent as she was the wound firmly. Once it was clean, she took some strips of clean fabric and tied it around his arm. While she was doing this, she couldn't help but looking at his chest. Perfectly muscled. [Figures] He had a tattoo on the left side of his chest that read "Little Bird". She was tempted to ask him, but she decided against it. He always got cranky when she asked him personal questions.

"There you go. You should be fine, just make sure you wash it good tonight."

"Thanks Doc." She smiled at him, and he reached across for his shirt.

"Be careful out there." She called as he walked outside.

"Always." He called back.