make do."
Melanie grabbed Dean's hand and led him to the kitchen. She noticed the bandage as she ran her fingertips over his knuckles.
"I'm fine," Dean said. "It's just crazy out there."
A smile chased worry from Melanie's face. She let go of Dean's hand and took two small plates from a cabinet.
"You want a jelly or chocolate-covered?" Dean opened the bag.
"Surprise me."
Dean closed his eyes and dug into the donuts. He pulled out a chocolate-covered. He held it up and smiled.
"Where have you been?" Melanie asked.
"I got trapped on a site. I was working with a couple guys when Tyler pulled up. He had this crazy look. I figured he was just pissed at Harold again for screwing up something on another job. Before I knew it, Tyler planted a crowbar into Jerry's head. He grabbed Harold and started biting him."
Melanie paused mid-bite into the donut. "Biting him?"
"Do you know what's going on out there?"
"I know there is some sort of virus."
Dean chuckled. "Oh, honey, it's not a virus. It's the end of the world."
Melanie dropped the donut onto the plate in front of her.
Dean grabbed her hand. "It's OK. I'm here now. I'm not going to let them hurt you." He rubbed the back of her hand.
"People are killing people?"
"Remember those two fishermen that died but didn't die?" Dean paused to laugh at the ridiculousness of his words. "I guess they had some kind of virus that makes people want to eat each other. I can't imagine human flesh tasting better than this jelly donut." He took another bite, hoping humor would lessen the fear of the words.
"Zombies are out there?" Melanie's voice was barely above a whisper.
Dean smiled and wiped jelly from his week-old beard. "They're not zombies. I'm not sure what they are, but no one's leaving their grave."
"How did you get away?"
"I thought about running while Tyler was preoccupied with Harold's forearm, but then I thought about you. I had to protect you. I picked up the crowbar…"
Melanie put her hand on Dean's arm. "It's OK. It was self-defense."
"I buried it into his forehead."
Don't think about moving or I'll bury a bullet in your forehead. Melanie pulled away from Dean and got up from the table. She folded her arms and huddled next to the refrigerator.
"What's wrong, honey?"
Melanie didn't answer. The words "buried it into his forehead" brought back memories of the night in New York when she was robbed. One of the masked men put the barrel of a gun against her forehead and said, "Don't think about moving or I'll bury a bullet in your forehead." Every muscle in Melanie's body froze just as they did that night.
Dean walked toward Melanie. She cowered into a corner.
"I'm not sick, honey. What's wrong?" Dean opened his arms in a hugging gesture. "I'm not going to hurt you. I came here to protect you."
Dean extended his hand to Melanie. It only took a few seconds for her to shake the bad memory. She smiled and placed her hand in Dean's.
"I'm sorry. I don't talk about this a lot, but when I lived in New York, I was mugged by two guys in clown masks. One of them said something about burying a bullet in my forehead. That just brought back the memory."
Dean didn't say anything. He pulled Melanie to his chest and wrapped his arms around her.
----
A package of smoked turkey was the last thing in the refrigerator. Winston grabbed it and tossed it into the freezer, hoping the temperature would stay cool long enough for him to get back with gasoline for the generator. He bought the generator after the summer storm that knocked the power out for a few hours but never took it out of the box. That was Winston. He was an impulse buyer. Most things seemed a good idea at the time he parted ways with his hard-earned cash, but after a few hours, the need lessened and the necessity took up space next to other essentials in his basement. Winston looked at a note on his phone — GET GAS FOR GENERATOR. It was dated exactly three months earlier.
"I'll get some gas, come back, get the
Dean Wesley Smith, Kristine Kathryn Rusch
Martin A. Lee, Bruce Shlain