The Loss (Zombie Ocean Book 4)

Read The Loss (Zombie Ocean Book 4) for Free Online

Book: Read The Loss (Zombie Ocean Book 4) for Free Online
Authors: Michael John Grist
here.
    "It's his third bag," she says, in her rich plains accent. Macy was one of the first to join us, wandering in one day with a KFC bucket filled with actual breaded chicken wings that she'd made herself, plus another bucket of fresh buttered corn. That day the feast was on her. "Usual mixture, plus amoxicillin for good measure. He's actually in great condition, compared to the rest of them. No fusing, no breaks, nothing like that."
    She smiles. I know she's just as tired as the rest of us, but she never shows it. She's a damn dynamo and another of the pillars of our community. I've often thought she and Ozark would make a great pairing, but he may be too broken for that. I think they've started playing chess together though, which is great.
    I nod. "Thanks, Macy. Did Ozark tell you great work?"
    She nods. "Mhmm."
    "You deserve it. Thank you. There'll be a meeting at noon."
    "Got it, noon." She winks at Anna. "Hey kiddo."
    Anna blushes despite herself. I often forget she's the youngest adult we've got here. Truth is, I never really thought of her as a child, not since I first saw her get out of the RV in her cute blue dress. It may be strange to bring her into the leadership so quickly, but she's seen and done more than all these people combined.
    "Hey," Anna answers with a quick smile.
    It strikes me that Macy probably baby-sat for Anna more times than I did. Did they gossip with each other about their crushes? Did they bitch together about how I ran the town? The notion warms my heart. It's the little things amongst people, the bonds that tie them together like twigs settling into position in a strongly woven nest, that make me remember what all this is for.
    Macy starts away and I look down at the guy. He's skinny but has a face that would be thin anyway, with pasty gray hair stuck to his scalp. He looks a lot better than before, with some color coming into his cheeks underneath the scraggly beard, but still not good.
    "We need to wake him up," Anna says, "how do we do that?"
    I drop to my knees and pat the guy gently on his bony shoulder. "Hey, buddy," I say, the old-fashioned way. "Wake up."
    He stirs.
    "Isn't this cruel?" Lara asks. "He needs to sleep."
    "And we need to know what they were running from. Maybe they know where Cerulean is."
    The guy's eyes open slowly. He looks at me, then Anna and Lara, then begins to cry quietly.
    "It's OK," Lara says, resting one hand on his chest and the other on his cheek.
    "You look," he says, working hard for each word, "just like in the comic."
    Anna snorts.
    "But I'm sorry," he says. "Your friend Cerulean is dead."
    * * *
    It takes the best part of an hour to get the whole story off him. At times he gets overwhelmed and has to rest, and some of the memories I almost wish he hadn't shared, but the gist of his story is clear.
    His name is Peters Larenson, a Dane caught in the US on 'Infection Day' as he called it, on a business trip. He met Abigail a year after the infection, back when his English was still bad and he spent most of his days trying to learn it better so he could decipher the flight training manuals on his Cessna 400 TTx turbopropellor plane. He'd found it in a small Seattle airport, aiming to fly it back to Denmark. He was out on the runway one day when she'd simply walked out of nowhere, right up to him and planted a kiss on his lips.
    They'd had sex before they even spoke. He thought it was a dream so went with it, this gorgeous older woman coming to be with him after a year alone, but when it was over she was still there.
    "Call me Abigail," she'd said. Was it her real name? It didn't matter. His life instantly improved. They watched the sunrise and the sunset together, went jogging, lay on the sandy beaches, made love in the surf, ate old brisket from cans and pored over the Cessna's instructions. She seemed to have no drive to do anything but help him, so he asked her to join him.
    "I already have," she said.
    She taught him English, and months went by. He

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