THIRTEEN

A Chapter by Maddox

~Jake~

Her shoulders were sore, the straps of the heavy duffel bag digging sharply into the knots in her muscles. She limped on one side, trying to ease the sharp pain. She watched Adrian and Richelle move easily with their equally heavy duffel bags. With each step she took, she could feel her knees wobbling underneath her. The bag rested heavily on her right shoulder; grabbing the strap she switched the bag to her good shoulder.

“Do you need help?” asked Adrian, coming up next to her.

“What? No, I’m fine.” She said. Jake kept her head down and continued walking. Adrian stayed next to her, within arm’s reach. Every time she came close to falling, he would grab her arm and pull her upright.

“Enough,” he said finally. He reached out and took the duffel bag from her. Slinging it across his chest, Adrian ignored her protests. Groaning, she walked quietly next to him. She felt bad, but Adrian seemed to carry her bag with ease. They walked until Richelle complained of hunger. Her timing was impeccable; they walked for a few more minutes until the forest broke to a small town. Richelle giggled and ran in front towards a coffee shop.

“She knows there probably won’t be any good coffee or real food in there, right?” Jake looked up at Adrian.

“You never know. Richelle is extremely lucky sometimes,” laughed Adrian. They followed her to the jammed shut doors of the coffee shop. They pulled out their weapons and kicked the doors open. Surprisingly there were no Returned waiting for them inside. Jake watched as Richelle rummaged around behind the counters of the store. Just like Adrian had said, Richelle was extremely lucky as she pulled out two large plastic bags of coffee.

“Unbelievable,” breathed Jake. She holstered her weapon, and helped Richelle with the industrial coffee makers. Adrian sat down on one of the plush seat cushions and watched the two of them. Oddly, Jake felt self-conscious as she helped Richelle grab the measuring cups and pour in the fine, black, powder. Chugging along the coffee machine emptied its contents into three Styrofoam cups. Grabbing two, Jake moved to sit across from Adrian and handed him his coffee.

He mumbled what sounded like a thanks and stared down at the muddy brown liquid. Jake watched as Richelle slid in next to him gently pushing him over.

“I use to think that I was the lucky one. I would have skipped the coffee shop all together,” Jake said smiling. “My shoulder would also be dead.” She murmured, looking over at Adrian. His gentle gaze was focused on her face. The flush travelled up her neck, the tips of her ears turning red. She shook her hair over her blushing cheeks and delicately sipped her coffee. Through the curtains of her hair she could see Richelle’s confused looks between Jake and Adrian.

All their thoughts were interrupted as a body smacked against the thick glass window. Springing from the table, they all drew their weapons. The body lifted itself from the ground, grimy hands beating on the window. The person outside the café was no doubt alive, but for how much longer? Scrambling for the door, Adrian and Jake spilled out onto the street. Jake raced in front and grabbed the person. Deftly, the half conscious boy raised himself up and took Jake’s help, throwing a muscular arm around her shoulders. Struggling they moved together into the café while Adrian looked out for whatever was chasing this boy. They soon found it. Several fast moving Returned advanced towards them.

Helping the boy into one of the chairs, Jake stood back not attempting to wipe the filth off her arms. She grabbed her gun and went back out to help Adrian. One Returned already lay on its stomach in the street. Three more moved towards them, limbs swaying. Coming up behind Adrian, she placed a hand on his shoulder and stood next to him. He was strangely calm, his chest rising and falling normally. He grabbed her wrist, moving slightly in front of her.

Confused she shakes out of his grip and moves away as the Returned got closer. She fired at the lumbering giant of a man reaching for her just 5 feet away. Holding in her scream, she ducked under its arm but it wasn’t that easy. It spun on its feet and kept coming at her. She heard a shout from behind her. Adrian pulled her out of the way and threw a well aimed punch at the Returned’s face. Stupid but effective, the Returned stumbled backwards in time for Jake to raise her gun and fire two rounds into its decaying face.

“Stop it!” she shouted at Adrian as they stood in front of each other. The second Returned was slower in its journey towards them.

“Stop what?”

“Stop pulling me out of the way. I know what I’m doing,” she said.

“If you got hurt,” he broke off as Jake danced around Adrian and fired another two, clean shots into the head of the second Returned. Without a fight, the Returned collapsed on the ground at her feet and she spun to look at Adrian. His face was face was drawn, composed.

“What if I got hurt?” she growled. “At least I’d be out of your hair. You’ve been pretending to be nice to me for a couple days but you don’t honestly care, do you?” His face dropped. “I’m a nuisance to you. If you wanted to take out these Returned by yourself then go ahead. I’m nothing.” She spun on her heel and started to walk away. She barely made it two steps before her arm was jerked back again.

Before she had time to think, Adrian spun her around keeping his hold on her arm. He placed a feverish hand on the side of her face. Leaning in close, he whispered against her lips, “You’re not nothing.” Heat spread through her body as his lips moved with hers. The hand gripping her arm moved to rest on her waist. With a mind of their own, her arms travelled up to tie themselves behind his neck.

“You’re not nothing,” he whispered again. She pulled back to look at him. His soft grey eyes stared deep into her, filled with sadness and desire. After a few moments they still stood there.

“We should go. Richelle is in there with our new ‘friend.’ We certainly don’t want to leave him with her too long if he was bitten.” She murmured. Nodding gently, he dropped his arms and followed her inside their small refuge.

The man sat slumped over in a café chair. His hands bound to the chair behind his back. Richelle was standing in front of him wielding her small caliber gun. The man’s long black hair hung in his face, strands clinging together with grime. Raising his head slightly, the boy looked up at the group in front of him.

“Who are you?” asked Adrian.

“My. My name,” he gasped. “Richard. I’m Richard Demarco.”

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