Page 5 of Resurrection
“Leave me be, Jax!”
I heard her scream the words, the despair behind them—withinthem—even if I didn’t realize she was directing them on behalf of me. I can still hear them now. The desperate plea of a woman set on defending her world to the bitter end, even if I’m just a blip in it.
My breath catches as a ray of sunshine caresses her face, her hand balling into a fist against my chest at the bright intrusion, while I’m awestruck, unable to help but admire her courage. Her tenacity. She’s lived through so much horror. Way too much. As soon as she saw I was alive and well, her strength and resilience began pouring in waves out of her, the determination in her eyes telling us that these events wouldn’t hold her back. That she’s going to live for today and not dwell on yesterday.
I can see right through it, though. The mask she thinks we’re all oblivious to. Unshakeable on the outside, but on the verge of a mental breakdown just beneath the surface. She hides it well, but I can tell she’s going to need all of us to bring her back to life once again. Justlike we did so many times in the past. She’s going to need to lay those broken pieces of herself—the ones she’s barely holding together—down and allow the three of us to build her back up to the brilliant force of nature we all know her to be. Perhaps, a time for all of us to heal.
No matter how many times I mentally replay what happened, I still don’t understand it. It makes absolutely no sense. The pills I took should not have taken that long to wear off. I’ve used them before, and they’ve never made methatincapacitated. The only explanation I can think of for my semi-comatose state is the toxic combination of everything that happened that day: the long walk from the halfway house to Jax’s estate, the sudden arrival of the zombie horde, the adrenaline-filled race to the water, fighting for my life, the fear for Aly as she froze on that beach, the anxiety of waiting for Jax and Hawk to return after getting supplies and a boat, my collective injuries sustained, and of course, the stitches at the end. Together, they must have put my body into survival mode—shut itself down to fix me back up. It doesn’t matter now, though. Now that I’m awake, and Aly and the guys know I’m not turning into a fucking zombie any time soon, we can put this dumpster fire of a debacle behind us and move forward... far the fuck away from it. I was being completely serious when I said no more heavy-duty pain meds, though. I don’t care how much it hurts. I don’t care how poorly the low-grade pills are actually going to work in the long scheme of things. I’m simply gonna have to push through and deal with it. I’m not putting my family through that again.
Aly stirs in my arms, her nose nuzzling my chest as she wakes. I lift my hand to her face and push back the stray hairs attempting to hide her from me, caressing her cheek as she looks adoringly at me. “Hey, beautiful.”
“Hey, Doc,” she whispers with a brittle smile, the dark circles and lines around her eyes prominent in the morning light. She’s been through too much. We all have. Maybe it’s a good thing my foot is jacked up. It gives us time to recenter ourselves, prepare our minds and bodies once again for what’s to come. Even if I was able to walk unassisted, not a single one of us is in their right mind to take on a world full of flesh-eating zombies anytime soon.
No. We need to refocus.
I lightly trace my lips on Aly’s nose before trying and failing to hide a gasp as a sharp twinge of pain shoots from my foot, straight up my ass, and all the way to my neck. Fuck, this is going to be a long rehab. Despite my attempt to smother any complaints, Aly hears them, causing her to stand and pounce off towards the bathroom before I can even try to dissuade her.
After a few moments, she returns with a glass of water and a few white capsules. “Acetaminophen... for the pain,” she winces as she sets the water on the floor near us and, with some minor help on my end, lifts my upper body in her arms, holding me close. She places the pills in my hand, followed by the glass of water, and I swallow them down like the good patient I am before she helps lower me back to the cushions, remaining seated by my side. It’s not a bed, but it’s still remarkablycomfortable for being on the floor. They put a lot of thought into my recuperation and have taken care to make sure I have everything I need... which right now, is my girl... in my arms.
Content and happy to bask in her presence, my eyes begin to drift closed once again, the calm ambiance disturbed only when I hear the crinkling sound of plastic being torn off of something. Curious, I open one eyelid as Aly lifts a freshly unwrapped box and sets it on her lap in front of me.
It’s the Mother Fucking Smore’s Kit.
I can’t contain my smile as I watch her make the sweet treats, delicately lifting each piece in a particular order and placing them together so perfectly it makes her nose twitch in satisfaction. After a few minutes, she catches me.
“What?” she asks, pausing her task to tilt her head down to me and my unintended interruption.
I place my hand on her thigh, squeezing slightly and basking in the luscious feel of her against my fingertips—because I can, and because I almost lost the chance to—and jut my chin to the items in her lap. “You don’t want to wait? We can make a fire so you can roast the marshmall—”
She lifts both eyebrows and one solitary finger accusingly. “Don’t you judge me... It’s been a long couple of days and I need some fucking chocolate,” she points to her face, “in my mouth before my head fucking explodes.” She ignores my mild chuckle at her outburstand, instead, focuses back on layering the ingredients. She’s so engrossed in building her serotonin sugar towers, it’s like the simple construction of them is enough to reorganize the cosmos back into proper working order.
If only it were that easy...
As if summoned by the cocoa gods, Hawk silently steps out from the hallway and takes a seat next to Aly. She wordlessly lifts a prepared, but still cold, S’more and offers it to Hawk. Rather than taking it, he gawks at her, confused as to what to do in this situation. I’d be the same way. Aly is feral with her sweet treats. Especially chocolate and marshmallows. Hawk might be a chocoholic but he’s not about to get voluntarily castrated over her favorite indulgence.
Not waiting for anyone to make a decision on their own, Aly thrusts the treat into his chest, pulling her hand back just as he lifts his to catch it. She does the same to the next one, only offering it to me. Obviously, in my present state, I’m not as quick as Hawk, so she just places it onto my chest before furiously proceeding to make more. The harsh movement doing nothing but reinforcing my smile at her determination to turn this day around and make it a good one.
Jax is next, coming in through the front door with Sadie in tow. He must have just finished up with her morning walk, but he’s all wide-eyed, anxious, and fidgety. It’s like he’s brimming with information and can’t wait to share the news. When he sees us gathered on the floor, he lumbers over, taking a seat next to Hawk. He goes to open his mouth, set on initiating his normaldebriefing when Aly shoves a cold S’more right into his mouth, effectively shutting him up for the moment. His eyes go round with shock at being put in his place and neither Hawk nor I can contain our laughter. Aly lifts her eyes to us, smirking with pride at her accomplishment. It’s not easy to shut Jax up, but she did it with one move.
Checkmate.
This is good. This is what we need. To get back to ourselves and be the team we need to be. It’s the only way we’re going to make it in this shitshow we’re living in. I, for one, am more than happy to delay any new incite from the outside world. At least for a while. We can stay in our tiny bubble for just a little more, ignorant to the outside woes.
It’s peaceful here. Easy. Just the four of us. No one chasing you or trying to eat your face off.
No...
We can hold off for another day.
Hell will still be there waiting for us, tomorrow.
Chapter Three
Hawk
The empty road to my right seems to go on for miles. No twists. No turns. Just a straight line from here to just about halfway down the lake. The road to my left, while curving slightly as it meets the town-line, is clear as well. I huff a sigh.
Figures. Zombies all over the place ready to eat my face off on the other side of the lake, but when all I want to do is use one to take out my frustration onthisside, there’s not a damn lurker in sight. Even Jax’s bullshit out back, causing all kinds of fucking noise thatshouldbe luring the bastards in, isn’t doing the trick. Can’t a guy have his cake and eat it too?
