Hello my lovelies:) sorry for the extremely long wait, but that's how long it takes me to write a chapter in a bad mood. But anyways, enough about me. WARNING: tissues needed. I even teared up writing this:( but, here's your reward for waiting so long!
Love and Hugs,
Nikki
Date: December 12th
She woke up with the taste of whiskey on her tongue. One hand cradled the bottle of half empty Jack Daniels, while the other was splayed out, hitting the snooze button on her alarm clock. She let out a groan, her head thumping slightly and her body stiff. Josie Granger was used to wild hangovers, but this was the first she had gotten since moving to Zone One. She sat up in bed, noticing an amber colored stain running down her white tank top, and the remnants of throw up on her pants. She ran a hand through her now chin length hair, inhaling a long breath. She could here sizzling of bacon on a frying pan, along with the noises of Nathan playing Xbox. Zone One was first to get power back, along with water and heat. But in Anaheim, California, you didn't quite need heat.
She groggily walked to her bathroom, the reflection of herself not surprising Josie. Her hair stuck up in messy clumps, her white blonde roots peeking through her dye job. It was too girly for her liking, thus the dirty blonde. Her eyes had deep bags underneath, along with stress lines and ghastly colored skin. Her whole body felt dirty and scum like, even more than when she was out in Georgia. She quickly peeled off her messy clothes, throwing them in a disheveled heap by the now locked door. Walkers, even though rare, still sometimes were found wandering the streets. When carriers died, they turned into an infected no matter what injury, (other than a bullet to the head.) making the Zone that much more unsafe. Add that to the fact that there were almost no children, an uptight military, and the claustrophobia of too close apartments, and Zone One was almost completely dissatisfying for Josie.
She turned the water on, a spray of icy cold water shocking her into huddling in the back corner of the shower. She soon began to sit in the steaming hot water, letting the liquid drip down her back and warm her soul. She always went to the shower when she had to think or get away from the real world. Her mind now wandered towards that blue eyed southerner, something she couldn't stop thinking about. She slowly was able to admit that she really missed him, almost like she couldn't live without that dopey smile or the crinkles around his eyes when he smiled. Her hand still slightly ached whenever she flexed it or held something. They had taken the horrid hot pink cast off after two months of itchy agony, but her knuckles were still soft and healing.
"Josie, use all the water, will you?" Derrick yelled over the warm spray.
"Piss off!" She retorted loudly.
Josie spent the last few minutes in the shower cleaning her body. The smell of alcohol now only lingered in her breath and thoughts as she towel dried her naked form, her mind still somewhat numb and hazy. The sweet taste of whiskey now had soured into a bitter aftertaste, and she grasped for her toothpaste and toothbrush, nearly choking on the stinging peppermint taste. When she spit out, the lather of toothpaste was mixed with blood, most likely since she jabbed her gums to shreds. After brushing her teeth, she walked back into her large bedroom to get dressed. The alarm clock in her bedroom read 9:53, not too shabby for a hungover girl. Usually Josie would wake up in the mid afternoon back in Perth, but she was still a bit Jet Lagged. It wasn't unusual to wake up at two in the morning thinking she was late for work.
Her room was very lavish and comfortable, almost like the hotel she stayed in a while back when she first came to America. Fluffy white sheets adorning a king sized bed. It was a miracle she hadn't stained the sheets with her drink or vomit. The walls were painted a light grey, and one whole wall was a pane of glass, showing a marvelous view of the wrecked city. It must of been very beautiful before shit hit the fan. A flat screen hung above a rock lined fireplace, which was its own living room inside her bedroom. She wanted DJ or Nathan to have it, but the gentleman refused, apparently thinking the cripple needed a better room. But she would still beat the shit out of them if necessary. But she was really starting to think of the two as a part of her family now. Josie didn't know what she would do without these people.
She changed into a simple white crew neck, with black capri cotton pants and fuzzy socks. Her whole body trembled as she walked down the slate tiled floor, her feet taking her to the kitchen and living room. DJ was cooking up a delicious smelling breakfast, while Nathan was playing Grand Theft Auto. Nathan was stretched along the felt couch, his head laying on a pillow. Something was really wrong with Nathan, and Josie couldn't quite place it. He was depressed since the split between our group, and Josie didn't understand why. He didn't have a loved one in the group, and he wasn't attached to anyone romantically. Unless...
Josie shook off the thought, sitting down on the loveseat opposite Nathan. His eyes flicked to her momentarily, but then back to the television screen. It was a tad bit awkward being the only girl in a house of two men, but Josie was never a feminist. She liked dirt biking and fighting, along with chugging beers at the local pub back in Perth. But apparently, you had to act like a prissy bitch in America.
She heard a knock on the door, the sound gruff and startling. Josie got up to grab it, but Derrick quickly pushed her aside. She wasn't normally paranoid, but something stuck her as something suspicious. DJ closed the door behind him, the only thing Josie noticing about the man at the door being a black trench coat. Nathan and her shared a confused look, Nathan pausing his game to get up and try to look out the peephole.
"Don't." Josie stood up also.
"Why not? I'm bored as fuck and have nothing else better to do in this shithole of a town." Nathan responded in monotone.
"Since when did you cuss like a sailor, Nathan?" Josie raised a delicate brown eyebrow.
"Since this world went to hell." He deadpanned.
The noise she heard next made her blood run cold. A single, well placed shot from a pistol echoed from their doorstep, along with a thud as a body slammed into their front door. Adrenaline surged through Josie as she ran into her bedroom, pulling up her mattress to grab the .22 she always kept for safe keeping. The Zone had taken all of their weapons, except for the pistol Josie had stolen off a guard in Zero. Nathan had also grabbed a frying pan in haste, his body pressed against the door and peeping out the hole.
"Shit." Nathan gulped, pushing the door outwards.
DJ lay slumped on the ground, a bullet lodged in his head. Blood pooled around them, his body still warm though he was long since gone, along with the gunman. Guns were only admitted to officials and men in the military. Josie had a lurking suspicion Derrick knew something he shouldn't of. Murders were common when ex government officials knew too much about the demolition of the east coast. But DJ never worked with Zone One, nor had anything to do with them.
"What the hell just happened." Nathan's eyes were wide as saucers.
Josie gulped. "We have to hide the body. They'll think we offed Derrick."
"Where the hell do you hide a body here? They check the dumpsters, they check everything."
Suddenly, and idea popped into Josie's mind. She pulled out the BIC lighter she always kept with her, flicking her thumb across the flint a few times to check its durability. It was a cheap thing she bought from the market a while back, just in case their fire ever went out. They made sure to always have a fire running in case something happened. They could burn the body to hide any evidence. But where? Josie knew it was sick to burn the dead body of a loved one, but they would be imprisoned for life if the Feds found out about this murder.
Date: December 18th
Her eyes darted back and forth rapidly, quickly scanning her surroundings. Desi and Roland had deserted the city, trekking into the outskirts of Upstate New York, staying in broken down houses and barns. They also had found a horse, which she quickly named Bristol. Roland had grudgingly agreed to let Desi keep the horse with them, we're they stored all their gear, food and supplies. Desi would ride the horse when she was extremely tired, Roland never exhausting in the time she had seen him. His feet must be blistered and bleeding by now.
They trotted on a snow packed dirt road, the smell of burning wood and pine trees. The large snow packed trees flanked them on all sides, obstructing their view from potential walkers. Bristol sighed, flipping his mane wildly from side to side. Desi had stolen a horse poncho from a deserted barn, most likely owned by Mexicans. The poncho was Aztec printed, the colors plum purple, dandelion yellow, dark black and indigo blue. She stuck out more than a sore thumb. Roland was slightly lagging behind, a grimace on his strong face.
"Hey, you can ride on Bristol. You won't look like a pussy, I swear." Desi tapped on his reins, making him slow to a stop.
"I'm fine, really." Roland ran a hand through his wavy brownish hair.
"C'mon, you aren't fooling me. This horse can go faster than we can, and we have to find a shelter. It's getting dark out."
Roland mumbled a comeback, before quickly mounting the front of the horse and taking the reins. Desi was hesitant about holding onto this man she had known for a weeks time, but his body heat was ridiculously hot. He was literally like a furnace. Desi knew a little bit about horses, being raised on a ranch in New Mexico gave her some insight. She hopped onto the back of the horse, wrapping her hands close to his hips. He double tapped on the reins, Bristol beginning to pick up speed. Snow became stinging sensations on her skin, and the wind became icy cold. The sky had began to darken, also, meaning they had to find shelter quick.
Roland quickly found an abandoned cave, where a camp of survivors obviously lived. There was gear, food, bottles of spring water, and bones. Lots, and lots of human bones. Desi had a feeling the people who lived here were either long past dead, or infected. But she didn't need to think about that right now. Roland had taken flint out of his shirt pocket, and was trying to light some damp sticks and wood logs that had been collected in a makeshift fire pit. Trash littered the grounds, some of the stuff more useful than others. The snow was pelting into the cave, sending shivers down Desi's spine.
"Here, you must me cold." Roland began to shrug out of his jacket.
"No, no. Keep it." Desi said between chattering teeth.
Roland snorted, refusing to budge. He placed his worn leather jacket around her shoulders, his scent musky and woodsy. Desi inhaled once more before slowly leading Bristol into the cave, placing her at the back of the cavern. She found large sheets of tarp, along with bungee cords and nails. She went outside, biting her lip as she thought. Desi could tie the tarps up so the cave was sheltered from wind and snow. The snow wasn't seeming to let up anytime soon, so she quickly got to work. It was much easier said than done. Desi had to climb sharp and slick rocks, cutting her hands up countless times. The end result, though, was definitely worth it. She had cut open a large hole in the top so air could come through, and they had a peephole.
Roland had transformed the inside by the time she had gotten in. Rocks were set around a crackling fire pit, where two sleeping bags were laid out opposite of each other. Bristol was tied up in the back to a jutting edge of the rock, one of their blankets was draped around her large body. For once since the world went to hell, Desi felt... Safe. She sat down next to the fire, looking at Roland. A blush crept up her neck, something she didn't understand. Why was she feeling something towards this man she met a week ago? She didn't know much about him, nothing other than his name and a little bit of past.
"Do you have a family?" Roland asked, sitting across the fire from her.
"None that I'm close to anymore. Other than my brother, that is." Desi shifted a little bit on her seat.
"Do you know If he's still, you know, here?" Roland looked up at her, smiling slightly.
"No, but I have a feeling he is. His names Nicholas. Last time I heard from him, he was heading to Savannah to find a guy who owed him money. I'm trying to find him, I have something he needs."
"I had a family, too. I was settling down with a girl, but she changed. She became, well, something I didn't like. A girl infatuated with looks and being beautiful. But sometimes, girls aren't made pretty, they're born pretty."
He met her eyes with such a fierceness, such a compassionate look, she felt a stirring in her stomach. Something she had never felt before. He moved over so he was sitting mere inches away from her, his hand lightly brushing across her cheek bone. She felt a smile whisper across her lips, along with a tingling sensation in her feet. Then, his lips brushed along hers, soft and delicate as the skin of an apple.
"You call that a kiss?" Desi whispered.
Date: December 19th
Scarlett woke up in the early morning, knowing something was wrong. Something didn't feel right. Her hands immediately flew to her precious child, feeling for a kick or stir in her womb. Nothing. But as she shifted her hips to swivel out of bed, a hot flash of pain struck her in the abdomen, a scream slipping through her lips. Her hands groped at her waist line, a sticky, hot liquid smearing on her hands. Blood.
"Phoenix!" Scar rasped, her heart panicking.
Feet slapped against the wooden floor, a wide eyed Phoenix leaning in the doorframe. "What happened!"
"I'm... I'm having a miscarriage."
-2 hours later-
Scarlett's eyes fluttered open, a sharp smell crinkling her nose. It smelled like rubbing alcohol and a hint of rust, like the smell of hot blood. A television droned in the background, a news channel playing with military officials reporting on the east coast. Phoenix was asleep, her head resting on her hand as she snoozed in a plastic waiting chair. A face, familiar yet almost forgotten, also appeared in her vision. The injured man she had saw on the bridge months ago. Louis. What was he doing here?
Her hands flew to her stomach, instead feeling a taut and non pregnant stomach. Her heart sunk and shattered, a strangled cry ringing out of her ragged throat. Where was her baby? She knew the odds of a three month old stillborn was very high, but that was the only thing that was left of Nick. Her soulmate, the one she wanted to grow old with and have many more children together. And he would never get to lay eyes on the beautiful fetus that they had created together.
"Scarlett, you're awake." Louis whispered, getting up out of his seat.
He looked generally unchanged from when she had first met him. He had changed his clothes to a simple gray shirt and brown pants, and his leg looked to be fully recovered. His eyes looked somewhat excited and alive, but large dark circles underneath them suggested otherwise. How long was she out for?
"I lost my baby." Scarlett hoarsely whimpered.
"He was very sick, Scar. He was born an infected child." Louis came and kneeled next to the bed, stroking her knotted black hair.
Tears slipped out of Scarlett's cool ice blue eyes, dripping on her hospital gown and onto the off white covers. The sobs quickly woke up Phoenix, who jumped in bed alongside her, and cried too. Scar knew she wanted a little brother or sister to protect, to teach how to hunt and survive. Phoenix clung to Scarlett, her whole body shaking around the delicate girl. How dare god take this marvelous baby from them?
"Deus salua nos omnes." Phoenix shakily prayed, her eyes catching Scar's.
"Since... Since when did you learn Latin?" Scar asked through sticky tears.
"Keith."
The three stayed in silence, other than the sniffling and sobs that echoed throughout the room. Louis had turned off the TV before quietly excusing himself. He didn't know Scar and Phoenix that well, after all. Phoenix had fallen back into a pitiful nap, her hands wrapped around Scarlett's waist. Scar ran her hand through Phoenix's golden red hair, untangling the knots and frizz as she continued to cry. After about an hour in silence, a doctor came in, lab coat and all.
"Hello, Scarlett. I know you're in a... Fragile state right now, but you need to know some things before we discharge you." He sat down in a squeaky plastic chair.
"Go on." Scarlett sniffled.
"Your baby, he shouldn't of died. But the disease from the paternal side had already eaten away at his insides, and he wouldn't of survived more than a few minutes outside the womb if given birth at, say, thirty seven weeks. Right now, you are in Zone One, since the operation needed for you couldn't of been done at Zone Five right now."
"So my baby was infected?" Scarlett's words broke at the end of the sentence.
"Yes. The father, he resides in Zone Two, correct?" The doctor began to scribble down something.
"Uh huh. Umm, I have a question, doctor."
"Go ahead, Mrs. Purrin."
"When will telephone lines be restored?"
"Not for a long while, Ms. Purrin.
The doctor left the room, leaving Scar and Phoenix to sleep a little bit longer. It was just beginning to turn light outside, which meant it was a perfect time to sleep. Phoenix could miss school and return tomorrow, and Scar was sure Flame could last a day without the care of 'nix. But what about Louis? Was he a carrier or immune? Obviously they wouldn't let carriers come into contact with immune people, but something inside her wished they would. Because she would find Nick in a heartbeat.
Or would she?
