Voodoo Girl Pt. 01

My eyebrows lifted. "Fight them?"

"We usually just trade with them, but we've had a few fights. They think it's funny," Zach piped in. I wasn't sure if he'd ever spoken to me directly before, so I sat up. "I guess we always have to be prepared in case they decide to get violent."

"They're dicks," Doug muttered. "I'll tear MacKenzie apart if he even thinks about—"

"Shut up. Please. I don't want to hear this tonight," Wendy cut in.

"Sorry that a dose of reality is infringing on your dream world, Wendy."

Wendy took a deep, calming breath. "Can't we have a nice meal?"

Nate slammed his fists against the table. "Jesus Christ, Mom, a nice meal? Are you fucking kidding me? A nice meal? We're not your version of a happy family, anymore."

His cheeks were red and his eyes glittered with fury that made me shake. He looked down at his plate, disgusted. A moment later he flipped the plate over onto the floor and it shattered. He got up and walked over to the window, his hands in his hair. "You are so far from reality sometimes, Mom."

Wendy's face was completely white. Tears fell down her face, but she kept her expression blank. She stood unsteadily and stared at Nate's back. "What do you want us to do, Nate? Should we put a bullet through your brain so you won't have to worry about waking up after? It would definitely be the easy way out, and I don't think any of us would blame you."

Nate turned half his body and stared at her. "You know that's not what I want."

"Tell me what you want, because I know what I want. I want to make my last days on this earth as happy as they can be. I want to be with my son. I want to laugh. I want to live as fully as I can, because I know it can't be for long. Maybe I've been selfish shoving this idea of a happy family sticking together down your throat. For that, I'm sorry." She went for the stairs and paused, glancing at all of us. "It's been a long day and I'm going to bed."

______________________________

The next morning I was shaken awake. It took me a few blinks to make out Nate hovering over me.

"We're going hunting. And I'm going to teach you how to shoot a gun."

"Hunting for what?" I asked, my voice thick with sleep.

He didn't answer my question. He swept out of the room, his boots heavy on the floor.

I looked down at what I was wearing-just a long shirt Wendy had given me, and panties that had been washed too many times. I blushed but was content that the shadows had hidden most of it. And truth be told, I didn't think Nate cared, or even noticed.

I straightened myself out and met up with Nate who was smoking on the deck.

"You smoke?" I was shocked but I didn't know why. He did look rough, but I thought he was smarter than to suck on a cancer stick.

In the context of our lives, however, I figured it didn't matter.

He nodded, not looking at me. "When I feel like it."

Zach slipped by us and headed for the barn to milk the cows.

"We have to be careful today," Nate said.

I looked at the side of his face, trying to figure out his meaning.

"Doug wasn't exaggerating about Mac. Things have been semi-peaceful but we don't trust each other. I trust a zombie near a baby before I trust him."

He led me to an extended piece of land where we could just barely make out the farmhouse. We walked over to a decaying, abandoned wooden fence with a few glass bottles standing on top.

A weird sense of childish glee came over me and I grinned. "Oh my God, I feel like I'm in a movie."

I couldn't remember feeling this excited since everything in our world was wrecked.

Nate was obviously confused, and the expression was kind of adorable on him.

I giggled. "Some guy is teaching me how to shoot a gun on a farm. Are you going to stand behind me and help me aim?" I laughed harder.

Nate squinted his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Perfect, sorry." But I couldn't stop laughing.

He sighed and rubbed his face. "We don't have all day."

"I know, sorry." I tried to get serious but I couldn't help it. A choking laugh escaped me and Nate groaned.

"I fail to see how learning how to shoot zombies is amusing."

Tears fell from my eyes and I bent over, giggling like a madwoman. How odd that laughter just a few days before was so unfamiliar to me.

Nate shook his head. "Are you finished? 'Cause it's really not funny, and this is important."

I cleared my throat and stood, wiping the smile off my face. 'Yeah, yeah. Sorry."

Nate handed me his gun and moved behind me (just as I imagined). He taught me how to hold it, touching my elbows or brushing his fingers against my knuckles. My cheeks flushed and I felt like a moron. He smelled nice. Really nice. I used to love passing by the cologne stands in the mall, catching the scent and closing my eyes for a moment. Joe never wore cologne, and it never occurred to me to buy him any.

Nate must've had some cologne stored away, and it tickled me that he still used it. There was also a hint of sweat and skin when I moved closer to him. And he was so warm. Unconsciously I stepped back a little more into his body.

"So you keep your target just above the line of sight over your gun, okay?" he was saying.

I refocused. "Okay."

He slid something back and forth. "Insert the trigger finger into the trigger guard."

We did this a few times before he took the gun and pulled out a few bullets. His eyes bore into mine. "This is really fucking important. Make sure the safety is on when you load." He showed me the safety again and I nodded. He moved behind me again and took the safety off. "Take it off only when you're in firing position."

"Okay," I said, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"Then when you shoot, you should fire in time with your breathing. Keeps the shot steady."

"I don't think I can do this," I blurted.

Nate shifted the safety back on and stepped away from me. He moved in front of me and studied my face. "You have to."

"I can't shoot a gun."

"Of course you can."

"I can't. I'll just use swords and knives and other shit."

His expression softened slightly. "You'll die that way."

I blew out a breath. "Everyone here knows how to shoot a gun?"

"Yup."

"Even Wendy?"

Nate looked at the ground to hide his smile. "She knew how to before all this."

"Wow." I inhaled and exhaled deeply. "Okay. Let's try it again."

Nate moved into position behind me. I listened closely to his directions.

"Now squeeze the trigger steadily, but not too quickly. Too fast will throw off your target. And don't forget to follow through-don't move for a few beats after. Now squeeze."

I didn't think about it; I just squeezed. The sound was loud and terrifying. I think I might've cried out, but I was too caught up in staring at where the bottle I shattered used to be. I eventually looked over my shoulder and caught Nate grinning.

"Nice shot."

My arms lowered slowly and Nate reached over to flick the safety. "Then afterwards you unload the gun and double-check it's unloaded. You should really keep it loaded, but it's up to you."

I took a shaky breath. "Okay. Here, take it back."

"Nope. It's yours now." He pulled another handgun out of his back pocket. "We have a surplus. It's one of the first things my Dad and I collected."

My mind caught onto Dad and it occurred to me that whoever his father was, whoever Wendy's husband was, he wasn't with us. I didn't ask him about it and he didn't share anything more. Instead I followed him to the gate of the electric fence. I examined at it warily.

"Are you sure the electricity is off?"

Nate looked at me over his shoulder. "I didn't take you for such a scaredy-cat. I thought you were a tough girl."

He said the phrase mockingly, as if he thought me the exact opposite.

"Fuck you, I am tough. I just don't want to get electrocuted at this very minute."

I think he wanted to smile, but he suppressed it and pushed open the gate without bursting into electrified flames like I feared.

It must've rained sometime in the night because the soil was wet. My boots sank into fallen leaves and broken twigs. A bird swooped over our heads and I jumped.

Nate scanned the area attentively. One of his hands rested on his gun.

He nodded as if satisfied by what he heard, or didn't hear. His eyes came back to me and waved a hand forward.

"Let's go."

We travelled deeper into the woods. Raindrops occasionally slid off leaves and slipped onto our skin.

I couldn't take the quiet. "So, did you grow up here?"

He peered at me from the corner of his eyes. "Yeah."

"It's really beautiful."

"Uh-huh."

"You're an only child?"

His eyes slid to mine. "Yes."

We walked around for a bit before I had to tell him to stop. I was winded.

I sipped some water and watched him pace. "What exactly are we hunting for?"

He shrugged and crossed his arms behind his head. "A deer would be nice."

I tried to ignore the fact that when he reached up, his shirt rode up and displayed his tanned stomach. It wasn't muscular, just lean. Before the war, I never thought about men's bodies much before. I knew I appreciated a strong jaw, messy hair and scruff (on some guys, if they could pull it off). And I knew abstractly that I hated exaggerated muscles. I appreciated quiet strength, like when a man gripped you and you were shocked at how strong his hands were.

But I never analyzed the parts, and if I did take notice of stupid things like a guy's stomach, it certainly never sent the sparks of awareness through my body that Nate's did now.

I stopped that train of thought.

"A deer?"

"I'm also hoping we have enough light to make it to town. We could use some pain meds."

I sat on a tree stump. "There is still stuff left in your town? How is that possible?"

"We had a particularly violent wave of them come through town before everyone could loot. And afterwards we decided to take trips for stuff when we really needed it. To preserve it, you know. We can't carry it all, anyway."

I plucked a wet leaf off my arm. "It sounds really dangerous."

"It's more dangerous not to have medicine."

I stared at him hard. "Maybe we should try to take as much as we can today."

He shook his head and gazed at some point past me. "It's too far to carry all that we need."

I got up and brushed myself off. "Then let's go."

________________

I was used to seeing ghost towns. At first they scared me and gave me nightmares. There was something terrifying about magazines featuring the last celebrity news still waiting to be purchased from their racks, candy bars sprinkled across the floor and blood smeared on the cash register. You expected someone—an elderly woman, perhaps, or an impatient mother—to come around the corner with a carriage, but there was no one ever there. Not even a zombie.

This town was no different. Bullet-filled bodies lined the streets. Crashed cars sat in the holes they tore in the dry cleaner, the deli and the nail salon. Blood and body parts lay messily across the road. Nate stepped over them and I followed.

We stopped at the general store. Nate carefully pushed the door open and flicked on his flashlight. We listened for a moment, but there was no sound. Neither of us were stupid enough to believe the coast was absolutely clear, but we were satisfied enough to slip inside.

"Grab what you want but remember you have to carry it back," he murmured.

I spotted a box of Benadryl and grabbed it. The past few nights I hadn't had trouble sleeping, but I knew the insomnia would come back. I passed by the display of condoms and couldn't help but let my eyes sweep over all the different kinds. I wondered if I should take a few. It couldn't hurt to have them on hand if anybody wanted to use them.

I looked over my shoulder and spotted Nate watching me. I looked away, totally embarrassed, and blindly reached for some random box nearby.

We worked like this for a while. I'd nearly cleaned all the shelves and shoved their contents in my backpack. Nate gave me a dubious look.

"And you're going to be able to carry all that?"

"Yes."

"And hold your own if we come across something?"

"Yes."

He sighed, not looking convinced.

We walked out into the late morning sun. I felt strange and spun around, closely watching for something. Panic rose in my chest.

Nate must've felt it too because he reached for his gun. Too late, for a bullet zipped by me and right towards Nate's arm. His blood practically exploded and splattered against my face. A small shriek escaped from my throat. Nate's frenzied eyes met mine.

"Run!"

He grabbed my elbow and dragged me behind him. I fell to one knee and he cursed. "Get the fuck up!"

I stood on shaky knees and ran after him. I tried to channel the survival skills I'd honed on my own, but my brief period of shelter had softened me. My senses were dulled. Clouds covered the sun and an abrupt downpour fell from the sky, making the trek back even more difficult. I slipped on the leaves and landed on my right knee.

Nate heard me fall. "Get up! Get up!"

Another bullet flew past me, this time bursting into a branch. I sucked in air and ignored the splintering pain in my knee as I stood to chase after Nate.

"Faster!" he yelled.

I heard more gunshots. I knew we were still a long way off from the farmhouse and my legs were growing tired. I thought my knee might be broken but I pushed my legs harder.

"Is it MacKenzie?" I screamed

If Nate heard me, he ignored me. He moved much faster than I did and I desperately tried to keep up. I felt blood trickling down my leg and fought the urge to collapse. The gunshots kept coming. It soon became difficult to distinguish thunder from shots.

Finally the fence was in view. I could have cried with relief. My back was killing me with the added wait of our loot and I knew my knee was about to give out at any moment.

Nate reached the fence first. He turned and screamed, "Fuck!" when he saw how far behind him I was. He came back for me. He roughly pulled my backpack off my back and put it over his good shoulder, and then crouched down. "On my back. Now."

I draped myself over his good shoulder. He grunted and stood. He moved as fast as he could with me on top of him. Doug was at the gate, his eyes and mouth wide with fear. A string of gunshots rang through the air.

"Hurry the fuck up!" Doug screeched.

We finally made it. Nate fell to the ground and I landed on his back. Doug swung the gate closed and someone turned the electricity back on. The charged hum was a comforting sound.

Nate rolled away from me and stood with effort. He yanked his gun from his pocket and shot rounds off into the vast forest. Whoever had attacked us had stopped shooting, and didn't seem to intend on advancing further. At least, not today.

When Nate's gun was empty, he tossed it to the ground in disgust. He was covered in sweat, and shivered and bled heavily.

I crawled over to him. "Get inside. You need help."

He looked down at me, not really seeing me. "I'm gonna kill him."

Doug approached him and touched his good shoulder. "Let's get inside, man."

Nate glared at the woods and screamed. "Next time you come over here I will shove my gun up your ass!"

Doug pushed him. "Get back to the goddamn house."

Nate turned his back slowly and stalked off. Doug helped me up and had me lean my weight against him. I hobbled back to the house, looking over my shoulder every few minutes.

"You're safe now," Doug whispered, but even he didn't believe it.

_____________

"It's not broken," Ariel said. She sighed and got up, taking some bandages Wendy held.

I was shocked when I heard Ariel was a nurse. She had absolutely no bedside manner, but she worked effectively. I bit back a scream when she poured some alcohol over my wound. She pressed the bandage down and looked up at me.

"You're going to have to keep your weight off it for a while. It's really banged up." She handed me a few pills and a glass of water. I swallowed them down and sank back onto Wendy's bed. "You're going to be groggy for a while."

"Thank you."

She threw some things out in the trash and passed me to go check back in on Nate. The bullet miraculously just grazed him. It hurt like hell but he'd be okay, thank God. Ariel whispered to Wendy he might not be able to move his arm well for a while.

Wendy came over and hugged me. "Are you okay?"

"Yes."

She sat next to me with an exhausted groan. "They don't think it was MacKenzie."

I lay down on her pillows. "They don't?"

"He's not usually this aggressive, and he doesn't typically try to hurt us. He likes to play, but that's it." She looked out the window. "It seems like there's another group of idiots out there who like to shoot their shiny guns at us for entertainment."

"What do we do?"

She looked down at me. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing for a while. Doug and Nate are planning to go out there in a few days, see if they can draw 'em out."

My eyelids felt heavy. "But we're safe?"

She stroked my forehead. "Yes."

It was a lie. I could feel it deep inside that Wendy had no fucking clue if we were safe or not. But she comforted me nonetheless, and it helped lull me to sleep.

I dreamed about when I was twelve or thirteen and my mother took me to a beautiful field of sunflowers. She wore a blue dress that fanned out near her hips. She looked so happy that day, I remembered. When I looked back on it, it made sense: it was the day before she left us.

We rested in the grass. Mom ran her fingers up one of the stalks of the sunflowers.

"They're beautiful, right?" I remember her asking me.

It was so hot and I was sweating in the frilly pink dress she made me wear. "Yes."

We ran around like wild things for the rest of the day, and in my dream I got back the feelings of innocence and elation that I'd long forgotten.

Then the mood of my dream changed. Mom kept running farther away from me. I opened my mouth to call for her but no sound would come. She disappeared and I screamed for her frantically, but a horrific silence fell over everything. I couldn't hear the birds, or the wind. I didn't even hear my own heart beating.

I tripped and fell down hard on my knees. My surroundings came to life again, so loudly I had to cover my ears. I heard a loud humming and looked behind me. Horror slid down my throat and plopped into my stomach when I saw the huge hive of bees I'd tripped over buzz to life. Thousands upon thousands of glistening bees rose from the hive and came for me. I tried to get up, to run, to beg my mother to come back, but my legs were paralyzed.

I woke screaming in Wendy's arms. "Shush, honey," she whispered.

Slowly I settled down and realized I was covered in sweat. My heart was thumping so loud I could hardly hear anything else.

My head was in Wendy's lap and my arms were wrapped tightly around her middle. It couldn't have been comfortable.

"I dreamt about my mom."

Wendy stroked my hair. "What about her?"

"The last memory I have of her."

"I'm so sorry," she said in a soothing voice. It was then that it occurred to me she thought I meant a year ago, and that maybe Mom had become a zombie, or had been torn apart by one. Which she could have been, for all I knew.

"I don't know if she's alive," I whispered. "She left me when I was thirteen."

Wendy continued running her hand through my hair.

"She called me when I graduated high school. I begged to come live with her but she hung up on me." I covered my eyes with my hand. "Then she called my father's house the day I graduated college. Or maybe it wasn't that day. I can't remember exactly. Looking back on it, someone must've told her when I was home."

"And did you talk then?"

"No. This time I hung up on her."

"Did you know where she was living?"