Page 36 of Dating After the End of the World
“I think it’s a fair question, Dale. Like you said, we’ve never had a death before.” He gestures to me with judgmental eyes. “But within twenty-four hours of Casey’s arrival, someone ends up dead. She’s the only one that saw it, so she should explain what exactly went down. That way we can learn from it and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Asshole,” Tessa says from the other end of the table, just loud enough for everyone to hear. I’d hug her if Elaine and Meredith weren’t between us.
“I think what Tessa’s trying to say is that none of us were prepared for what occurred today,” Dad interjects.
Tessa sits up a little straighter in her chair. “No, I said what I said.”
“Anyway, I think your anger is misguided.” Dad looks to Blake.
“I’m not angry. I just wanna know how it happened.”
“Fine,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “We heard gunshots and took off running. I got there first. Chris was too close to the fence line, and they were already breaching it. He underestimated how fast some of them can be, and then one of them lunged at him, and he got bit. I took out that biter so he could retreat. But Chris didn’t. He just shot himself, and I don’t understand why he did.”
“Well, I think that’s obvious.” Blake gives me a confused look. “He didn’t wanna turn into one of those things. He was probably thinking of his family, what he—or the monster he became—would do to them. That’s why he blew his brains out.”
I can’t hide my surprise or shock at Blake’s explanation.That’s what he thought. That’s what they all think.I can see Chris’s face, the emptiness in his eyes. It was the look of a man who thought he had no future. His final parting words. I didn’t understand them then. I just thought he was in shock. But no. He was grieving his own life. He thought there was no other way. So he pulled the trigger before he could talk himself out of it. But he’d had a chance ... he just didn’t know it.And none of them do either.
“What is it?” my dad asks, noticing my shocked expression.
I snap out of it, shaking my head. “Just because you get bit doesn’t mean you’ll turn into one of them.” I make eye contact with each and every person at the table to ensure they’ll hear me, and they’ll remember that in case it ever happens to one of them. “That’s why I call them biters and not zombies.” I let out a deep sigh. “You all watch too many movies.”
“How do you know they don’t turn?” Blake’s tone is cold.
Holding out my arm, I push my sleeve up, showing off a teeth-shaped scar engraved in my skin. “Because I got bit, and I’m still your Doomsday.”
Dad grabs my hand, inspecting the scar. There’s a sense of sadness mixed with relief in his eyes, like he’s realizing how close he truly was to losing me. He squeezes my hand before he lets go of it.
“Maybe you have special blood, like in that zombie film with Will Smith, and you’re the cure to all this,” Greg says.
I roll my eyes and push my sleeve down. “Again, you all watch too many movies.”
“You could be an anomaly,” Blake suggests.
It’s like he doesn’t want this to be true, or maybe he just doesn’t want me to be right.
“I’m not. I saw the same thing happen to my patients in the hospital. Some people were like me—you just feel sick, and it passes within a couple days. But there are other outcomes. You could turn into a biter or a Nome.”
“A gnome, like for a garden?” Molly cuts in, tilting her head.
“No, it’s spelled N-O-M-E. Stands forno memories. It’s just what I call them, the ones that lose all their memories. They become shells of themselves, completely confused, almost like they’re suffering from amnesia or late-stage dementia.”
Blake swallows hard, his Adam’s apple rocking up and down.
I scan the table. “Have none of you ever seen a Nome?”
No one audibly responds to my question, but several shake their heads. It’s clear they’ve been in their own little bubble way out here in the country, and they have no idea what the world is really like now.
“Are the Nomes dangerous?” Greg asks.
“In the wrong hands, they could be.”
JJ pulls his head back. “What do you mean?”
“I mean they could be easily used, trained to do things they would never do if they remembered who they were and what it means to be human. Their state of confusion also leaves them vulnerable to biters.”
Blake scoffs. “We don’t know if any of this is actually true.”
“You can believe whatever you want, Blake, but that doesn’t make what I’m telling you untrue. I saw it with my own eyes. You get bit, and you have three outcomes: Nome, biter, or nothing. Chris had a sixty-six percent chance of survival, so he didn’t need to pull the trigger.”
