1 | I Am a Survivor of the Zombie Apocalypse | ✅

Chapter 12 - Two Loonies Having a Laugh-Attack

I wake up to the sound of rain hitting the car. It's pouring. Seth carefully navigates the car along the winding road, around an occasional abandoned car or fallen tree limb.

Doyle's head droops toward his chest, his breaths are slow and heavy. He's sleeping.

I stretch out in the backseat and stop in mid-yawn when I remember the strange emotions I felt earlier. I feel embarrassed, even though I'm pretty sure neither Seth nor Doyle noticed anything.

I feel normal right now. So maybe it really was just relief. Hopefully. I'll just move on from it and not think about it anymore. Well, I'll try, anyway.

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We've only got about twenty miles of mountains left to Finley. The car is doing okay; I just hope we won't be too far away from our destination when it runs out of gas.

Doyle is driving now, I'm in the passenger seat, and Seth is sprawled out on the backseat, snoring. I feel a bit awkward sitting silently beside Doyle. I don't know why, I never have before. Maybe it wasn't just relief...? Nah: RELIEF. That's all. But if it was just relief, why do my cheeks feel hot? Why do I imagine myself hugging him all the time? Why do I suddenly want to stare at him all the time? Or hold his hand? He has what my dad would call "piano hands": long, skinny fingers, even his palms are long. Why am I paying attention to that? Ugh! What is wrong with me? Hopefully it'll pass soon so I can go back to normal. I miss normal, and I haven't even been abnormal for long.

"So...." Doyle says, his voice cutting through my strange thoughts. His wonderful, soft voice...STOP IT!

"Huh?" I jerk my face away from the rain-streaked window to look at him.

"What's the first thing you're gonna do when we get to Finley?" He asks, a faint smile on his lips. His perfect lips.....EW! Stop it!

"Uhh...take a shower, if I can," I say. I would love a nice, long, hot bubble bath, but I think a cold shower with shampoo is all I can hope for.

"Yeah," He nods, "That bucket of water didn't do the trick – I've still got guts all over me."

"Pleasant, isn't it?" I say sarcastically.

"Extremely," He jokes back.

I smile and look down at my lap, twisting all my fingers together because for some reason I'm nervous. Why did I have to feel this way about the guy who's trying to get over his dead girlfriend? Why not the other one who might actually want to be in a relationship? Because it's me, and I'm weird.

We drive in silence for a while. My eyelids grow heavy, and between the sound of the rain and Seth's rhythmic snores, I start nodding off.

I'm slipping into a crazy dream about having a thousand dogs in my old backyard when I lurch forward and get my breath cut off by my seat belt.

"Shit!" Doyle bellows as I'm gasping and he's slamming the brakes.

There's a loud thump and a "What the hell" from the backseat, and I look back to see Seth struggling to un-wedge himself from between the back and front seats.

I turn to look out the windshield and see a figure coming toward us. In the darkness and rain, I can't tell if it's a dead thing or a human, but when it reaches the beam of the headlights, I see.

It's a girl, just a little younger than me, who looks half-dead and disoriented, dragging toward us. Her mouth is moving, but she's not talking loud enough for us to hear what she's saying.