Tooth and Nail (Draft In Progress - Book One)

Chapter 2 - S + Laughter

Allen knocked on the door and I stayed poised on the step, my finger ready to fire at any moment. Why did we come here? Why risk crossing the city to get to a friend?
Because she's Jezebel. And she lives with her mom. And her mom is as close to a prepper as you can get before the level of prepper who builds a bomb shelter basement and raises chickens.
He knocked again. Down the block, a door opens and a woman runs out, her black curly hair bouncing in its pony-tail. She screams. I aim at her, but she isn't the dangerous one. It's the man who follows her out. I freeze, doomed to watch. He runs faster than she, arms raised before him, clawing at the air. When he catches her, I have to look away. I have to. I have to. I can't. I shoot quickly, but not quickly enough. Her scream stops, replaced by a roar from him, and then the sound of him hitting the sidewalk. Two bodies on the curb.

"Jezzie! It's Allen! Open up!" He shouts. The door swings open wide, and she looks scared. Allen grabs my wrist, pulling us both in the door and slamming it closed. She stumbles back, falling onto the rug. Allen locks the door and dashes into the dining room to the right, grabbing the end chair and dragging it back down the hall and putting it under the door knob. His breathing is fast and heavy.

"Allen? Tamerlyn?" She looks back and forth between us, her face dominated by a fearful and confused expression that is all too appropriate for the situation. "What's going on? Why are you here?"

She stands up, walking toward the window to look out. Allen grabs her and holds her back. "Zombies." His voice is dark and deep and I can't help but be surprised by the tone. I've never heard him like that before. It's so new to see a serious (and seriously afraid) Allen say something so weird and silly.

Jezebel finds it humorous, and smiles, backing up against the pillar that separates the hall from the dining room, and marks where the dining room becomes the front living room. She laughs, loudly and closed her eyes, even snorting. Allen doesn't move, simply staring at her. After a moment, she looks back at him, and stops. Silence. Her giddiness fades swiftly, replaced by equal concern and seriousness. "No. You're joking." She says coldly. When he doesn't move, only continues to stare at her, she turns to me. "This is a joke, right?"

I shake my head, and gesture to the Bounty Percussion pistol by my side, and sit down cross-legged on the wood floor. Allen sits in the chair. "No. I'm serious."

She doesn't pause to let it sink in. Her phone is immediately in her hand, fingers flying, and she holds it to her ear. I can hear the ring.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
'Hello, you have reached Karista Graves. Please leave your name and number at the tone.'

Redial.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
'This is Gavin Graves. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."
Beep.

Redial.
It rings.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
'Hello-'
"Connor! Oh thank god you answered-"
'Sorry, I'm not really here. This is a recording. Leave a message! Bye!'
Beep.

She drops her phone, frozen.
A tear forms in her eye and she drops her head, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. She curls into a ball and falls onto her side, shaking. I watch her back as it jumps and her breathing becomes audible and choppy. Allen kneels down beside her, putting one hand on her back and the other on her head, patting softly. "Hey-"

"No! No!" She screams, and he pulls his hand away, sitting down against the pillar. Once he's adjusted to comfortable, he puts his hands around her waist and pulls her up against him and she melts into his lap, tears spilling down her face and she holds into him tightly, tugging at his shirt. "This can't be happening. No."

"Shh. Jessie. Calm down." He whispers, bringing his face next to her ear and closing his own eyes. She wraps her arms around his neck and continues to cry, quieter now.