Jillian

Submitted into Contest #60 in response to: Write a post-apocalyptic romance.... view prompt

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Romance Fantasy Drama

When I first came upon Jillian I thought she was one of them. You know, The Dead. Well at least half-dead as some like to call them.  

Dead things don’t walk, growl and eat I heard someone say once. I suppose he was right. But I wouldn’t exactly call a human being with half-his brain shot out and limbs missing exactly alive either.  So I zombies would be a fitting name. Neither dead or alive. But voracious. These things ate everything in sight that had warm blood pumping through them. 

So no one could blame me as I screamed and grabbed my gun as an arm reached for me from under a table of the dining room we had just entered of an abandoned restaurant. The smell of death was everywhere along with the stench of rotting food.  

When the virus hit, it hit hard and fast leaving no time for lingering around or dining at local restaurants. In one day, hospitals and nursing homes became over-run with these half-dead entities that went from barely breathing as they laid suspended between life and death sucking desperately for air out of ventilators that were meant to keep them alive so their families wouldn’t have to mourn the loss of them, to now being monsters that roamed the halls feeding on those same family members.  

Soon the buildings could not contain them as they came out in droves hitting the streets looking for their next meal. Outside of the hospitals and nursing homes people were dying inside of their homes from illnesses that kept them bedbound. Death and half-death were everywhere and people ran! 

Panic took over and people do what they always do in a panic, they go crazy. The run and hide or kill and protect. Places that are normally packed all of a sudden became abandoned leaving room for gangs and homeless people to set up shop.   

Life as I had always known it was gone. Now I was in survival mode. I roamed the streets as others did, carrying my pistol, always on the lookout. I was raised in the country so I knew my way around a revolver and I wasn’t scared to use it. I had already blown the heads off of several of the growlers (most people called them Walkers, I called them growlers because of the sound they made when they were ripping into newfound flesh.)  

Today was a hunting day for me. I liked to go alone when I went in search of food. I found that by myself I could get in and out quicker, on top of the fact I was never made responsible for anyone else's life.  

I entered the restaurant quietly, sticking my head in first just to see if there were any growlers' insight. The place had already been pretty ransacked but I figured there were probably things left in the back kitchens that hadn’t been discovered due to the darkness and the fact that when you come in groups like most people do, you bring attention to yourself faster, giving you less time to forage. When I came in alone, I could take my time. Look in places others hadn’t. If I heard a growler, I could play dead under some table and they would walk right past me in search of the noise that had woke them up. I fared ok myself and never saw a reason to change that.  

Until today. 

When I saw that arm reaching for me from under the table, I drew my pistol ready to blow it clean away from its decomposing body. But then I heard a distinct sound.  

A sound the definitely wasn’t a growl.  

No, instead of the usual grunt I heard from bodies that could no longer move to find food I heard a faint plea for help. Were my ears deceiving me? I leaned a little closer making sure to stay out of arms reach.  

“Hello” I whispered so as not to wake any more growlers that might be in the area. “Is somebody down here?” 

“Please help me.” came the plead. 

I gathered up the courage and got down on one knee so I could peer under the table. What I saw sent chills through me. Although she was covered in blood, the eyes that stared back at me were 100% alive. 

“My foot is broken,” she whispered. “I can’t walk.” 

I didn’t know what to do. If I tried to drag a body out, it would surely wake up the dead and then I wouldn’t make it past them. But if I left her here, she would die a slow agonizing death of starvation or try to somehow crawl out on her own which would mean she would become the next meal for some half-human whose only semblance of life that was left was the teeth it was using to gnaw open the still-living flesh of this poor human who was obviously left behind by her hunting group.  

I looked down at her again and her eyes said everything her mouth couldn’t. She was very much alive and just as equally scared. I had no idea how long she had been lying there but now was not a good time to find out. I had to devise a plan to get us both out alive.  

I looked at the door I had just entered. Thank God it was close and there was nothing between her and me. If I could drag her out from underneath the table without making too much noise, I knew I could get her to the door. 

I placed two fingers over my lips making a silent shhhh sound so that she understood I needed her to remain completely silent. She nodded her agreement.  

I then rose to my feet and gently picked up a chair that had created a barrier between her and the outside world. I moved it out of the way just enough that I could reach down and grab the arm that was still reaching out to me. Getting back down to her level I motioned toward her foot asking her, without speaking, if she could use it at all. 

Her widened eyes and a firm shake of her head told me everything I needed to know. Not only could she not use it, but it was very painful to try to move. This was not going to go as smoothly as I hoped. I got back up to go in search of something she could bite down on. I didn’t need her to scream in pain while I was dragging her across the floor. 

It didn’t take long for me to find the basket of rolled silver wear and figured a fork would make a good bite down object and also a weapon if she needed to stab something. I grabbed a couple just for good measure. I noticed all the knives were already gone. Somebody else had the same stabbing idea I had. 

I brought the fork to her and simulated what I wanted her to do. She understood and put it in her mouth ready to clamp down and take the unbearable pain she was about to receive. As gently as I could I grabbed her under both shoulder blades, pulling her out from underneath the table. So far, so good. She didn’t make a sound. Now for the fun part, we looked at each other knowing that once I got her on her one good foot, we were going to have to make a run for it.  

I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but in the last six months, I had pushed my way through many things that had not been easy. This was just going to be one more to add to the list. 

Just as I thought, the moment I lifted her up, the muffled scream pursued. She bit down on the fork with everything in her, but the pain flashed in her green eyes. I looked at her with an attempted hush, but couldn’t help but notice how beautiful her eyes were under all the smeared blood. 

I placed her half-way across my body and pretended I was in a sack race, like when I was a little girl. I was such a tomboy everyone always wanted me to be their teammate. What I lacked in strength I made up in determination. I wasn’t going to let anyone beat me, male or female! 

I skittered across that room with every bit of my might. She used every ounce of strength and bravery she had to work with me. Using her good leg, she balanced us out. When I stepped, she stepped, it didn’t take long for us to get into a rhythm. Once we were out the door and onto the street, I breathed a sigh of relief. I looked around and assessed our situation. It was dusk so there were not many people out. Most people hunted during the day because everything was easier to see in the bright light. I liked to wait till dusk. I had more space to myself and it was quiet. I could hear the growlers from a longer distance and knew where not to go.  

I really didn’t care who this girl was at the moment, but I also didn’t know what to do with her so I had to ask some questions. 

“Who are you and where are you from?” 

“My name is Jillian,” she half breathed her words. A chill instantly flew through my body. That was something I hadn’t felt in a long time, I thought to myself. I had been in a relationship before hell decided to come to earth. Unfortunately, my lover was a nurse and one of the first to succumb to the greedy eating habits of the bastards.  

When I heard the news and saw the videos on the news I knew there was no hope. They were talling everyone to stay away as one after another half-alive monsters came piling out the hospital doors in search of their next meals. I saw her, or at least what was left of her. I knew what she wore that morning as she left for work. 

I had complimented the royal blue scrubs and told her they made her beautiful blue eyes prettier than the summer sky. She laughed as she bent over my desk to kiss me goodbye. Her last words to me were “hopefully you’ll be making love to me next week under a beautiful blue sky when were on vacation in the Bahama’s” 

I couldn’t wait to make that dream a reality. But as I watched in horror as the blue-scrubbed laden monster sauntered out of the hospital, her right arm completely missing, her shoulder half gone, I knew life as it had been would never be again.  

As the months passed, I had gone from mourning and grief to anger and survival. My thoughts of wondering if I would ever taste the sweet lips of another woman turned to please God do not let me turn into one of those monsters and eat another woman. Sometimes I would laugh at the thought. I would’ve never believed in a million years that the turn ‘Eating a woman” would be a bad thing. But here we were and that thought made me sick to my stomach, most days. 

But now I could see, even covered in blood battered a bruised there was a beauty on my arm. I’m not saying that my thoughts immediately went to wanting to bed her, but the fact that she made my blood stir brought hope to the darkness that had become my soul. It let me know I was still alive and maybe, just maybe we would come out of this.  

“Hello,” the small voice still attached to my arm whispered. I looked again at her shaking the thoughts from my head. I had to think straight or there would for sure never be another chance for me to kiss the lips of anyone. 

“Hey,” I half-smiled at her. “we need to get the hell out of here. We can make formal introductions later.” 

”Ya, think?” She said only half- sarcastically looking back at the restaurant where sounds were starting to immolate.  

My abode, that’s what I liked to call the little shed I had turned into my living space, was not far away. I knew we could make it, but we needed to be fast and in sync. I looked at her hesitantly and she nodded as if to say ‘I got this.’ 

One step out into the street and it was go time. We got our cadence in rhythm and we marched as if our lives depended on it. Because it did. Her broken foot drug on the pavement like a ragdoll being carried by a tired toddler but she bit her fork and took it like a champ.  

We made it to my abode in no time and I offered her my cleaning bowl. I had a barrel outside of my door that I used to collect rainwater. I would then use that water for bathing and cleaning. I always seemed to find bottled water that I rationed out and drank. Sixteen ounces a day was my limit. I was lucky to have that. I had known people who died from dehydration since this pandemic started so I was very thankful. 

Jillian was about my size so it wasn’t too hard to find her something to wear. And once all the blood was washed off the woman underneath took my breath away with her beauty. But there was a cold, sadness in her eyes and I knew she had a story to tell.  

First thing we had to do was figure out what to do about her broken foot. I knew just about everyone around so I knew a couple of people who had the ability to set it, if it was able to be set. If not, amputation would be her only choice, but at least she was still alive. 

I got busy making us something to eat on the makeshift camper burner I had and fixed two cups of coffee not bothering to ask her if she wanted one or not. I knew we had a long night ahead of us and plenty of time to get to know each other. First food and drink, then discovery.  

Life was still happening. I might get that kiss after all.  

September 19, 2020 15:39

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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