Chapter Twenty-three

While Jim is busy bandaging Greg's wounds, Ann and I walk to where the infected must have fallen, to quickly make sure it's dead.

We find it slumped in a ragdoll position against a wall, dead as dead can be. Ann motions to return to the others, but I want to get a closer look, for just a moment. I can't help shake this gnawing feeling that… Is this guy the same…? The infected was a man, not too tall and not too short, but rather fit. He's wearing a dark grey hoodie that hangs heavy over his face, and dirty brown pants. Bands of thick tape are wrapped around each of his limbs. Like parkour, right? Was there ever a parkour scene in Louisville? The infected's clawed hands are red with fresh blood splatters undoubtedly from Greg. Jeez, I hope the guy's gonna be alright.

"How weird." I say out loud. "I think I saw this same guy before, only a day after I first woke up infected. They weren't attacking me then obviously."

"Yeah, weird." Ann mumbles. She sounds uninterested. "You done here?"

"Just one more thing…" I draw in uncomfortably close to the dead, mutated infected man. With the end of one finger I carefully lift the front of his hood to see the rest of his face. I want to see his eyes… but upon the sight, I shriek and back away.

"What? What is it?" says Ann, startled.

"N-Nothing! Nothing! Let's just go!" I lead the way back to the men in a hurry. I don't care if she or anyone else asks; I am never telling what I just saw there.

Fortunately for Greg, the rest of the trek to the gun store Jim spoke of is free enough of infected that the three of us who are not injured take care of what comes our way with little issue. We arrive at the store to find all the windows smashed and at least half the store looted. No one is surprised. After quickly restocking our ammunition, we head upstairs to find a vacant apartment void of any furniture or appliances. Without saying anything to the others, we unanimously decide to stay here for the night. Jim offers the possibility of staying two, in order to let Greg's wounds heal some before heading out again. Neither Greg nor Ann say anything, so I take it upon myself to give a response. "Perhaps."

Later that night, our group of four is split among the rooms by gender, Jim and Greg in one room and Ann and I in the other. The moon is shining violently through our window, and keeping us awake. Apparently it's also slightly cold, but I certainly can't tell. Neither of us can sleep. "Hey." I see if I can open up a conversation. "You think Greg'll be alright?"

Ann groans for a moment before responding. I hope she wasn't actually about to doze off. "What, physically?"

"Yeah – well, no actually. I mean mentally. Emotionally. The kid's going through way too much. Way more than any of us are."

Out of the corner of my peripheral, I spy Ann sitting up and turning my way. "I'm surprised to hear you, of all people, say that."

"Hmm. I suppose I've gotten over my deal somewhat."

"I was thinking more of the fact that he believes you Lorraine's murderer."

"Oh."

Neither of us speak for a moment.

"You're right though." Says Ann. "He is going through way too much. I don't think he'll be able to handle it either." She lies back down. "That night, when he accused you, did you see his eyes?"

I'm not sure what she's getting at. "Well… yeah. Of course I did. I honestly can't say I've ever seen someone look at me with such… malice. It was frightening, to say the least. For once it wasn't me scaring someone else, but the opposite."

Ann sighs. "That isn't what I saw. I saw him at the end of his ropes. I saw a kid becoming an adult in the worst way possible for him, and just barely being able to hold on as the flood of emotions threatened to overtake him."

Well, he did better with his crises than I have with mine. I sit up and turn my gaze towards her. "Ann?" I say, with much faltering. "Be honest with me. Do you think he's right? Do you think I killed her?"

There is a long pause before she gives an answer. In it the air is thick and unsettling. It feels as though it's choking me, as if my boss just called me into his office and the possibility of losing my job is hanging in the air. My shoulders stiffen in dread anticipation.

"No Maggie, I don't." The heaviness in the air lifts. I relax. "I think…" she continues, "Well I didn't know what to think at first. I mentioned it to Jim when we were searching for you two earlier today. He said something I can't help but agree with: 'He just needs someone to blame, and Maggie's the perfect candidate'." I feel my own emotions begin to swell within me. I feel like I might fall into tears, but for once it's not due to sadness, but joy. Ann scratches her head. "Problem is, will he ever give up the fight and admit he was mistaken? I dunno. Guys are stubborn like that." I suppress a laugh. "Well, maybe not guys in general, but the stupid shit society pushes on them, you know? Be a man, tough it out, no crying, that shit. It's stupid, it makes you a loose cannon, it- hey… you alright?" By this point I'm in tears, or I would be if I could still do that. I'd forgotten what having a friend felt like. Ann hesitates for a short bit. "Look, it's cold. If you want, well… maybe we should huddle together for warmth."

Without taking a moment to marvel at her newly discovered embarrassed face, or wonder why she decided to say that, or offer a response of my own, I fall back from sitting, towards her, and my head lands on her calves. "I'm fine," I say, beaming a large smile at her, "I'm totally fine. I just… well, what you said just now made me feel so much better. Thanks."

"You're… you're welcome?" She looks shocked. I'd almost say she was blushing. I let out a happy sigh, and close my eyes. "As cute of an offer as that was, 'huddling' might do more harm than help." I wiggle my fingers to illustrate my point.

"Right." She replies. She's snapped back to the indifferent Ann I'm used to. "Wait, cute?"

"Huh?"

"You said 'cute'."

"I did, didn't I…" I trail off. "Is that odd?"

"Coming from someone a lot younger than me, yeah – it is."

Another laugh I have to stifle. "I'm twenty-one. You're not that much older."

She shrinks her foot back away from me in surprise, and my head hits the floor with a soft clunk. "You're twenty-one? Bullshit!"

"Somehow I knew that would be the response if I told you that…" I rub my head with the back of my hand. "Look, don't tell that to the others. I've got my reasons for keeping who I was a secret, okay? I guess… I guess I just let something slip this time." I said with a shrug.

"But you look younger than Greg!" Ann retorts.

"Yeah, well the infection's done stranger things."

She puts a finger to her lips and thinks for a moment. "Can I try and guess your name?" she asks.

"Well sure, I can't stop you from trying."

"Ha ha. You know what I mean. Will you tell me if I'm right?"

Now it's my turn to think for a moment. I doubt she'd guess it. "Sure. You get one try a day, and…" I look at my watch. "it's going on midnight, so this one counts for tomorrow."

"Jennifer then. Is it Jennifer?" she replies, almost immediately.

I make a buzzing noise. "Nope. Good luck next time and thanks for playing."

She lies down, almost with a defeated look to her. I decide there's something deeper at work here, moving her actions, but I also decide that I don't really care to pursue them. Perhaps another time. I lie down myself, and find the sleepy haze comes much easier than it had earlier.