Not Dead Yet

Epilogue

"Francis?! Francis!!! Where are you?" Zoey walks out onto the upper deck of their new house on Tybee Island, and looks down toward the beach below. She throws up her hands in exasperation. She turns back and moves inside the house. She looks around the open living space with its cool blue walls and sturdy dark wooden furniture. "You better answer me. I know you're here ... somewhere."

She walks toward the hallway, scooping up a baby blanket and teething ring on her way. She peeks into the first room on the left, a cheerfully painted guest room. No Francis. She moves down the hall. 

"Francis!"

She stops to look into their bedroom. The setting sun plays over the gunmetal walls. The king size bed with its black velvet duvet is empty. No Francis. She even checks the adjoining bathroom. Nothing.

She moves back out into the hall and quietly opens the door across the hall from her bedroom. She peeks her head in, looking around the bright yellow room. The only person there is the baby, sleeping peacefully in the white wooden crib. She smiles at the sweet sight, then gently closes the door.

"Where are you, you big lug?" She grumbles as she turns and moves back toward the kitchen/family room. 

She crosses the open space, appreciating the coolness of the hardwood against the soles of her feet. Above, wide-bladed fans stir the evening air. She walks toward a set of double doors and opens them wide. Finally! Sitting inside their shared office space is her wayward husband. He's at the large metal desk, bent over the computer in front of him with a look of determination plastered on his masculine features.

"What are you doing?" she asks. 

When he doesn't acknowledge her presence, she moves closer. She notices that he has small earbuds buried in his ear canals and smiles. She reaches out and yanks on a cord, popping an earbud out.

"Hey!" he bellows, finally looking up. He scowls at her, then looks back down at the screen. He pounds a fist on the desktop. "Aw, shit! Would you look at that!? You got me killed!!"

She shakes her head and laughs. She pushes him away from the desk and plops down into his lap. He gives her a smirk and quirks an eyebrow. She playfully kisses his nose.

"I've been calling for you," she says, pouting just a little.

He shrugs, squeezing her hips with his large hands. "Sorry, Zo. I couldn't hear you."

She narrows her eyes. "Obviously." She looks at the computer. "What was more important than the mother of your child?"

He blushes. "Aw, um. Nothing. Just a game. Nothing."

She rubs his head, thrilling at the feel of his short, soft hair. "Just a game, huh?"

"Yeah," he mumbles, reaching around her to close the laptop.

"I have something to tell you about."

He looks at her, grinning. "Yeah?"

She nods. "Yeah."

He strokes her jean clad thighs, then slips his hand up under the back of her red tank top. "You finally agreed to pose for Playboy."

She laughs and slaps his shoulder. "Francis! No!" She giggles, "Playboy doesn't do nudes anymore, anyhow."

Francis glowers. "That's just too damn bad. Ok. So ... You signed us up to do that porno they've been wanting us to do."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, my God. You're impossible."

He laughs with her, his hazel eyes twinkling. He pulls her close and she wraps her arms around his shoulders. The heat from his bare chest seeps into her core and makes her feel safe. She leans back and runs her hand over his chest and down his stomach. At the waistband of his jeans, she dips her fingers inside. She tugs on them as she looks at him through her eyelashes.

"Are you going to be a good boy and let me tell you my news or not?"

He flashes her a rakish grin. "I'll never be a good boy, Zo, but I guess I can let you tell me your news."

She chuckles. "They want to make a game about ... well, about our time fighting the Infected."

He purses his lips thoughtfully. "A game? Really? What's it gonna be called?"

She pauses a moment, trying to remember what Louis said. "Left for Dead, I think."

He grunts. "Sounds about fuckin' right."

She grimaces. "Yeah. Uh ... They want us to voice it, too."

"Hey, no kidding?"

She nods again. 

"Well, ain't that some shit!"

"Louis has already agreed to it. I just got off the phone with him. He and Yvette say hi, by the way." She pauses, biting her bottom lip. "What do you think? Should we?"

Francis looks around the room. "You know, Zo, we survived that shit and now we have one Hell of a good life. In a way it seems kinda ... I don't know ... in bad taste, but ... I don't know. What do you think?"

Zoey shrugs. She looks at the laptop sitting on the desk. "I like games."

He nods. "Yeah."

"I don't know. I think I kinda like the idea."

Francis snorts. "Yeah. It would be sorta neat to be a video game hero."

"Ha! You a hero?"

"Hey! You said yourself I was a hero."

She sobers and gazes into his eyes. "Yeah, I did. And I meant it. You were a hero. I'm so glad I had you at my side."

"And I'm glad I had you at mine. I'm happy to still have you at my side, firebug. There's no one I'd rather fight zombies with."

She laughs. "Well, then, let's do it. That way video game us can fight zombies together forever."

He laughs, too. "Alright. I'm on board for that. As long as it's just video game us fighting zombies. I think the real me is retired from that."

Zoey shrugs. "I don't know. I might play the game some."

"You'd really want to relive that nightmare?"

"It might be fun."

"Yeah. It might be."

Zoey pokes his ribs. "You know you'll play it. Lately, I can't get you off the computer to do anything!"

"Hey! I only play because my fans demand it. They like my Let's Plays."

She shakes her head, laughing. "Who would have ever thought it? Francis the Biker a YouTube star."

"I think I've found my calling, Zo."

Zoey stands up. She pats his head. "Sure you have. And I'll let you get back to it, but first, I think I hear Billie crying. How about you go change her diaper and give her a bottle, hmm?"

She turns on her heels and walks out. 

As she exits through the doors, she hears him grumble, "I hate dirty diapers."