This Isn't the Zombie Apocalypse

18. We Play a Game of Clue- but Hopefully Without the Murder

Calvin and I had different definitions of bright and early.

Mine was six, maybe seven o'clock in the morning. His was: Oh, look, the sun is going to rise in about three hours. We can't waste any daylight by waking up later than the sun.

The night before, I had jam-packed my backpack—now with blood stains to add to the dirt and I-don't-know-what-this-is stains—with sets of clothes given to me by Calvin, which, according to him, were clothes people didn't wear anymore, since most people here are either doctors, nurses, and the dying who really don't care anymore. I even got a new pair of tennis shoes, since the ones I had were falling apart; they came from a patient, too.

(I know—well, that's not depressing at all, Cal. But, since you already wear dead people's clothes, let's just add dying people's clothes to the list. Whoop-dee-doo.)

Let's also forget about the metal baseball bat I was taking along with me. The one Sarah had used to chip away at a hospital window; the one that had blood all over it, even if the red was washed off. Brilliant. Let's smash some more bones.

Calvin had packed his own bag of clothes, and, strangely enough, toiletries. I mean, we weren't going on vacation or anything. Why bother when all the motels were closed? Then again, not many places would be open. My guess was they were all dead. At least, that was what I used to think. Now it was either dead or suffering but not capable of actually dying.

Joyful, wasn't it?

Also packed in another bag were packages and boxes and bags of all kinds of foods—mainly junk foods. The occasional healthy-ish item was buried underneath, but a cooler seemed like too much of a hassle. Water bottles, still in their original packaging, would be stacked in the trunk, and, yeah, they wouldn't get a cooler, too. We were okay with facing the possibility of poisoning from melted plastic and chemicals mixing in with our chosen beverage.

There was also a first-aid kit, along with extra stuff that wouldn't fit in the first-aid kit, which was rather large. More of those cool Band-Aids, gauze, hydrogen peroxide, Germ-X, and medications such as Tylenol and aspirin were some of the supplies Calvin thought important to take. I guess it came with traveling with a doctor, and an old one, at that. So did the heavy, overfilled bag of cash. Extra containers of gasoline were stored all throughout the car.

I had also showered last night, given all the time I wanted, which was basically the best gift I had ever received. The soaps were slippery and shampoo got in my eyes, but, hey, take what you get. I got to brush my teeth—it was amazing how much whiter they became—and Calvin, with his handy dandy bag of toiletries, gave me some deodorant to use before packing it away. All I could say: Yay! No more skunk smell! Calvin even convinced me to attempt to brush my hair, which only partially worked, and had some rubber bands Ana had left from her trips before; he wanted me to get a haircut, but neither of us trusted him to give me a good one (not that it mattered too much, what with how many people—i.e., me—didn't care anymore about things such as looks) or not somehow chop off my ears, and we didn't want to take up anyone's time by asking.

Anyway, back to waking up before dawn. I was tired, so I was a bit cranky, especially since I slept on the ground where with my ear pressed to the floor; there was constant movement and sounds coming from below. Accidently—I repeat, accidently—I hit Calvin right in the new bruise on his head as he was shaking me awake, and after that we sort of didn't speak to each other. Ever since Ana was taken away—less than twenty-four hours ago—we had been grating on each other's nerves. There were only three positives so far, are far as I could tell: one, I got food and water; two, there was a car and I didn't have to drive; and three, although we annoyed one another, Calvin and I weren't hateful. It was more we were in tough times and justifiably angry instead of deep, unreasonable hatred.