Free Dahmer Flu by Christopher Cox Page A

formulate a plan; but this home would do for the night.
    Without thinking, as if forced by habit, I scratched my left cheek as I approached the door. No one would be watching this time. I cracked the door, “It’s me,” I hissed, as I swung the door fully open.
    “We’re okay?” asked Aimee.
    “We’re okay,” I asserted. “Only two doors are closed. They stay closed. Everyone understand?”
    “Yes,” from Aimee; “Why?” from Madi, simultaneously.
    “They stay closed,” I repeated. The conversation was over. “Who’s hungry?” I changed the subject as I untied the bundled sheet. The starving rumble of Madi’s stomach was the answer. We laughed quietly, with our spirits lifting, as we had survived another night. We ate greedily, with little regards to rations. If need be, food could be found before we moved on. The stores, after all, were dead quiet.
    We ate, drank and talked late into the night, although I had no real concept of the time. By habit, we spoke in whispers, and kept Jacob full, dry and happy, although the home had already been seen to be relatively secure. Jacob fell asleep mid-meal and snored softly against his mother’s arm, with drool dripping from the corner of his lips onto her sleeve. Madi gently lifted him from her arms and laid him on the bed. He rolled once, and then lay still, breathing quietly and peacefully.
    “Children; they’re the only hope we have,” Madi exclaimed profoundly, looking down at her sleeping brother. Her mother and I exchanged amused glances at her pretense of adulthood. Our eyes lingered, and she reached for my hand. We sat there, silently for a moment, a family again.
    We talked about old times, which now meant anything before the day that the undead took over. Perhaps it was unhealthy to dwell on a long-gone past, but it was comforting to remember that there was once a more innocent time.
    I continued, “…And so Zack ends up meeting her, and she’s in a wheelchair, so he tries to play it off cool, but she can tell that he has a problem with it, so he ends up joining a wheelchair basketball game, which just embarrasses her even more!” I knew I was mutilating the storyline, but it was the best possible replacement for the television that I never guessed would be so missed.
    My mind drew a blank, and I struggled to come up with something next. Madi chimed in, “Okay, so Chloe and Cameron have to break their study date,” she spoke haltingly trying to remember the story.
    “Well, don’t stop for me, but I need to take a commercial break,” Aimee smiled, rising with some effort and crossing to the bathroom, leaving the door cracked. Her flashlight created dancing shadows from the doorway.
    Madi, continued, “And the bratz have a study date, but-“
    A scream peeled from the bathroom, making my blood run cold. It wasn’t fear, but something else, something I had never heard before. Madi and I sprang to our feet and ran towards the door.
    “Jacob!” I yelled to Madi, pointing towards the bed. He had woken with a start and began to wail; I was afraid that he would find his way off the side, but Madi reached him first, half of her attention on her brother, the other half concerned for her mother. I thrust the door open, and saw Aimee, halfway curled on the floor near the toilet. She was staring inside, not moving, not speaking.  “Aimee?” I approached. No answer. I looked in the bowl.
    So much blood. Somewhere, in there, was our baby.
    Aimee looked at me, slowly, her eyes filling with tears. I hugged her and she clutched at me back, beginning to sob into my neck, wetting my collar. I felt Madi emerge behind me, concerned. She remained silent; maybe she understood what had happened, but she knew the time to ask wasn’t now.
    I held Aimee until her sobs decreased to a pained sniffle.
    “What’s wrong, Mom?” asked Madi.
    I pulled her close. “We lost the baby, honey.”
    “Oh,” Madi said, simply. We had never told her that her mother was