Scorched Earth

The camp was full of familiar faces, from the woman hanging up clothes behind one of the cabins to the small children, dirt rubbed into their sunburned cheeks. Whether he liked it or not, Garrett knew everyone at the camp. It was impossible not to run into almost everyone in one day, no matter if he’d been out patrolling. He’d see them at dinner, at the showers, or even on his way back to the Armory after his shift. There wasn’t a way to avoid someone under these conditions. It was understood that if someone disappeared, they were gone for good.

Garrett hadn’t seen Melanie in the three days since the bonfire.

Before the infection, not seeing someone for three days meant nothing. It wasn’t a big deal. Their phone was dead, or they were busy. But it wasn’t like that anymore. At the camp, someone going missing for three days was something to worry about.

Garrett knew from experience that she couldn’t be avoiding him. Back when Emily and Kennedy had gotten back together, he’d avoided them like the plague. No matter where he went, he’d still see them at least once a day. It was inevitable. Theirs was a small community. People didn’t just go missing.

The idea of her missing didn’t worry him more than the idea that she was avoiding him. Garrett worked hard to build up his reputation at the camp. He enjoyed having to work to be known for something other than playing bass. Besides for Kennedy and Emily, he rarely let people in. It was something Kennedy pointed out constantly, but Garrett couldn’t help it.

He’d let her in. He’d told her everything.

Garrett regretted it ever since she’d disappeared after the bonfire. He kept running it over and over in his head, wracking his brain for whatever he had said to drive her away. Whatever it was, he decided, it had changed the way she looked at him. That careful reputation had been destroyed in her eyes.

He needed to talk to someone about it. Lucy would just give him “motherly” advice about how a young man like him needed to settle down as soon as possible. He knew if he went to Kennedy or one of the other guys about it, they’d just badger him. They’d turn his and Melanie’s almost friendship into a one night stand, or a simple hook-up. They’d degrade her with their teasing. She deserved their respect. Garrett could see how hard she fought for Will and for herself. He knew she’d been through hell; they all had.

The guys wouldn’t understand. They only saw what they wanted to see. He needed someone else, who’d get it.

He found himself standing in front of the kitchens, teetering back and forth on his right foot, debating on whether he wanted to go in or whether he should just leave. She’d tell him, of that Garrett was sure. But he didn’t have another choice.

“These sandwiches are really good, Em.” Garrett said, shoving a sandwich into his mouth. He was perched on top of one of the counters, his legs dangling in front of him. It reminded him of how he used to sit on the counters in his kitchen, watching his mother cook. He’d beg for little bits and pieces of whatever she was making.

“They’re peanut butter and jelly, Garrett. Not really much skill involved there.”

“But they’re the best. I bet Fiona couldn’t make them as good as you.”

Emily put two pieces of bread together, mixing the peanut butter and jelly together, an amused smile crossing her face. “Fiona is almost 80 years old. She’s been cooking much longer than me.”

“But these are amazing. I mean, the way you spread that peanut butter.” He nodded earnestly, his mouth too stuffed to respond properly.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me, Garrett. What do you want?”

Garrett’s eyes grew wide, and he blinked in what he hoped was an innocent face. “Nothing. Honestly.”

Emily stood facing him, her arms crossed and the knife she was using to spread the peanut butter in her left hand. “Really.”

Garrett looked down meekly, red creeping up his neck to color his cheeks. “I kinda have a favor to ask.”

“And you can’t ask Kennedy?”

“Not exactly.”

Emily raised her eyebrows, looking up from the cutting board. “I’m listening.”

“Well, you see there’s this girl-not really a girl, I mean she is a girl, but not like that. I mean, she is, but I don’t see her like that, at least-”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Spit it out, Garrett.”

He took a deep breath, messing with a fork that was lying on the counter next to him. “I need you to find someone for me.”

“Find someone? I’m not a private investigator. I’m a cook. Not even a very good one, at that.”

“She’s here. At the camp, I mean. I’m pretty sure. I just haven’t seen her in a few days, and-”

Garrett tried to ignore the grin on Emily’s face, internally praying that she wasn’t giving him that look. He fumbled over his words as her smile only grew before sheepishly glancing up at her.

“Well look at that.”

“What? Em, I’m trying to ask you something.”

“Garrett Nickelsen, worried about a girl.”

“I’m not worried, I just haven’t seen her.” She didn’t understand. He wasn’t worried, per se. It was well within his right mind to be curious about where Melanie had disappeared to. That was it. Curious, not worried.

“You’re worried. So what’s her name? Is she pretty? I bet she’s pretty. You haven’t looked at anyone twice since Rachael.”

“Look, I really don’t wanna tell you-what does Rachael have to do with anything? That was years ago, Em. Years.” He groaned in frustration, hopping off the counter. She was the last thing he wanted to talk about it.

“You never really got over her, G. And I don’t blame you. This is the first girl I’ve heard you talk about someone since her. Now tell me this girl’s name.”

“You know what? I think I’m just gonna go. Thanks for the help, Em. Really.”

“I was only trying to help, Garrett!” She shouted after him, as he stormed out of the kitchens, the fork still in his hands. She chuckled, wiping her hands on her apron before turning back to the stove.

He barely heard her as the door to the kitchens slammed shut behind him. Garrett just wanted to know if she’d seen Melanie. That was all it was. She had no right to take it that way. He hadn’t thought about Rachael in months. Thinking about her made everything come flooding back. All the good, but the bad too.

He missed her smile. Garrett missed waking up with Rachael next to him. She put up with his weird habits, and she knew him inside and out. Garrett found himself smiling as he walked across the camp. They’d been good together, more than good. But that was over.

His smiled faded and a stiff look crossed his face. It was over. There wasn’t a chance for them anymore. He didn’t even know if she was still alive. That was the worst part: not knowing. Part of him wished he knew, one way or another. He needed that closure.

Garrett was still focused on the ground when someone carrying a large crate ran smack into him. Kennedy’s head peeked cheerfully above the box, grinning at Garrett.

“Hey man. Do you think you could help me carry these to Rec? It’ll only take a few minutes, and I could really use the help.”

Wordlessly, Garrett took the top crate from him. Glancing down at it for a second, he dropped it near his feet, the contents rattling inside as it collided with the ground.

Ignoring Kennedy’s confused stare, he walked away. He was in no mood to put up with that bullshit. Simply asking him to help would have been fine, but Garrett didn’t feel like dealing with the Kennedy’s usual jokes.

“Garrett!”

He knew Kennedy was coming after him. He’d heard the other crate fall, and Kennedy’s boots stomping the dusty ground.

“What the hell is your problem?” Kennedy grabbed his arm, forcibly turning Garrett around to face him.

Garrett brushed him off, wrenching his arm away from Kennedy’s grasp. “Nothing.”

“You’ve been acting weird for days, man. What’s going on with you?”

“I told you. It’s nothing. I’m just a little tired.” It wasn’t quite a lie. Garrett hadn’t slept a full night’s sleep in several weeks. He tossed and turned during the night, waking up sweaty and his sheets wrapped around his legs.

“Gar, you skipped out early to go to bed at ten last night. No way you’re tired.”

“I just am, Kennedy.” Garrett tried to walk away, but didn’t get another two feet before Kennedy was back in his face.

“No need to get so defensive.” Kennedy pressed, “I’m just trying to help.”

“There’s nothing to help with. I’m fine.” Garrett repeated in a monotone, still trying to shrug Kennedy off of his arm.

He backed up, his arms up in a defensive position. “Okay, man. Don’t bite my head off. Just tryin’ to make sure you’re okay.”

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m just trying to find someone.”

“That Melanie chick? Leave it alone, Gar.”

“Why do you always think it’s her?” Garrett shot back at Kennedy, instantly defensive.

“Only because you’ve been obsessing-”

“I have not been obsessing over her. I’ve run into her a few times, okay?”

Kennedy snorted, “A few times is all it takes, apparently.”

“What’s your problem with her?”

“I just don’t think she’s good for you.”

“That’s not an answer.” Garrett spat, dropping the box he was carrying to the floor before kicking it under his bed.

“I’m just trying to look after you, man. I know what happened with Rachael. I saw you after that. I don’t want you to end up like that again.” Kennedy stood at the door, stepping forward to placate his friend. His voice was firm, but not unkind.

“I’m not interested in her like that. She’s just a friend.” He rolled his eyes, turning away from Kennedy.

Garrett didn’t have to turn around to know the look Kennedy was giving him. He knew it well. It was one he used to give Kennedy himself, back when their lives didn’t revolve around sharpening machetes and learning how to properly load a shotgun.

“You went looking for her, Gar. How can you tell me there’s nothing going on?”

“Because there isn’t. It’s that simple. We talked a few days ago. I just wondered whether she was okay. You know how it is around here. That’s it.”

Kennedy shook his head, crossing his arms. “I know you. She means more-”

Garrett finally rose, facing Kennedy straight on. He was shaking, fists clenched at his sides.

Hitting Kennedy wouldn’t do him any good in the long run, but there was nothing he wanted more than to wipe the smug, all-knowing smirk clean off the other man’s face. Kennedy was always the one to hit first; his normal passion and emotions getting the best of him.

He was still, his eyes yelling expletives, but his voice ever calm. Garrett had known Kennedy long enough to know he was more than angry. He knew his words hurt, but nothing could stop them.

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Kennedy. In case you’ve forgotten, you don’t exactly live with me anymore.”

“Fuck you, Garrett. You know that’s not true. I know you better than you know yourself.”

Kennedy stormed out of the barracks, letting the screen door slam shut behind him. Garrett muttered to himself, cursing his friend underneath his breath. He was glad no one else was there to witness their fight. They’d only bug him until he told them what the fight was about. Caring about what happened to Melanie was one thing, but having everyone know was different.

They used to have the same priorities, before everything. It was all about the band. They were going somewhere, the five of them. They had the same goals and the same ideas. Garrett always knew what Kennedy was feeling before he said anything. It was like the zombies had taken more than just their lives. They turned everything upside down. Garrett didn’t know Kennedy anymore. Not like he used to.

They were inseparable after the attack in the woods and finding the camp. Lucy even had trouble separating them for minutes as she did her routine checks on Garrett’s wounds. She eventually had consented to Kennedy standing at the door. They were both afraid to let the other out of their sight. They were still jittery. It took weeks for Garrett to sleep all the way through the night, even with the comfort of Kennedy in the next bed over. It all played out before his eyes as he slept, from finding Pat to the attack. Kennedy knew. It was he who tracked down a doctor, finding sleeping pills for Garrett. Kennedy was always there. And then he found a way to get away from it all.

“It’s all fucking Emily’s fault.” Garrett mumbled, sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. He’d been going over it in his head for hours. He wanted to blame it on something concrete, something other than the infection. But blaming Em didn’t change anything. He knew she helped Kennedy through everything, and he was grateful she was in their lives.

Garrett stood, noticing for the first time that the sky had grown dark, the sun disappearing behind the trees of the forest surrounding the camp. He knew he’d missed dinner, and there was no chance Emily was going to sneak him some food after what he’d said to Kennedy. His stash under his bed was only for patrolling. Garrett walked around, glaring at everything that crossed his path: people, crates, and even the stray tabby cat that had wandered into the camp.

His mother had always said he didn’t do well when he was hungry. She’d scold him and insist he eat something before she’d even consider talking to him. Garrett found himself outside of the Rec Center, his attention caught by the bright lights coming from the windows. He could faintly hear the sounds of the men from his barrack.

He didn’t have to be inside the Rec Center to know what was going on. The cards would be out, and bets would have been placed. He knew Richard would be whining about his hand, and Simon would be running interference so Darrin wouldn’t kill Rich. About this time, Kennedy would normally be winning, and Austin would be reaching for another beer. He could hear Lucas’s muttering as if he was actually in the room.

The poker nights were originally Kennedy and his idea, back from the long boring nights in the woods. Once they got to camp, it became Garrett’s way of coping from his insomnia. He’d spend hours playing solitaire on his bed, trying not to wake anyone else up. After a while, Kennedy noticed. He noticed everything. They started staying up together, playing card game after card game.

They’d gone through everything they could think of, from Rummy to War to Egyptian Ratscrew. For weeks, they were both up late into the night playing card games until Garrett was finally able to sleep. Eventually, they moved to the Rec Center so they wouldn’t wake anyone else up. Slowly, the card games gained fame around the barracks. It was an escape for all of them; a way for them to forget their lives for a few hours and just be regular guys.

He was caught off guard as someone shouted his name. Michael was coming up behind him, a dusty case of beer hooked under his arm. Garrett greeted him with a smile, snickering at the giant bruise on Michael’s cheek.

“Girlfriend finally get tired of you?” He grinned, motioning towards his face.

Michael laughed, shaking his head. “Someone decked me the other day during the bonfire.”

“If that’s your story.”

Michael walked forward towards the Rec Center. “It is, and I’m sticking to it.” He paused, waiting for Garrett to catch up with him. “You coming tonight?”

“I dunno, man. I’m not really feeling up for it.”

“Oh come on. It’ll be fun, and I’ve got beer.” He lifted the crate, flashing the name of some no-name beer that, judging from the amount of dust resting on top, had been sitting in storage for months.

“I guess. Couldn’t hurt, right?”

With an approving look from Michael, Garrett hesitated for a second before following him into the Rec Center. There was a large circular table set up in the middle of the room, chairs haphazardly crowded around. A pile lay in the center of the table, and Garrett could spot a few dollar bills, ammo for their favorite rifles, and a few other miscellaneous items. The normal crowd was there, smoking cigars and drinking beers.

It was comforting, this tradition. It didn’t matter now that nothing else was going right, as long as he had control over something in his life.

Garrett quickly scanned the room, his eyes resting on Kennedy. He glanced up, catching Garrett’s gaze. He watched as Kennedy threw down his cards, glaring at Garrett with a look of disgust on his face. He almost knocked over the table as he went to grab his jacket from the back of his chair.

The room went silent, save for Michael’s booming voice in the background.

“I can’t be in a room with him.”

Garrett didn’t move, locked in place as Kennedy moved to brush past him. He shoved Garrett’s shoulder hard, trying to knock him off balance. It didn’t surprise him. Kennedy was always one to get physical when he was mad. It was his way of blowing off steam. His silence earlier, and the way he’d just walked out, had startled Garrett. He was so used to Kennedy being the first to throw a punch.

“Why the fuck would you think-” Garrett snarled as Kennedy pushed past him, reaching out an arm to grab his shirt. A voice rang out before Garrett could touch skin.

“Stop being such fucking girls. Kennedy, you can’t leave, you’re dealing. Just fucking sit back down.”

Garrett found his way to an empty seat, sliding in next to Darrin. He watched, eyes narrowed, as Kennedy stiffly sat back down. There was coolness to Kennedy’s movements. He shuffled the cards, neatly sliding out a card to every person, purposefully forgetting Garrett.

“You didn’t give me cards, Kennedy.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to play. But what do I know?”

The cards slid across the table, and Garrett felt his jaw tighten up. He knew if he looked down at his hands, he’d see nail marks and white knuckles. He slowly loosened his fists to pick up the cards and he saw Michael studying them both.

The first few games were normal, minus the typical banter between Garrett and Kennedy. He watched as Simon and Lucas argued over ammo quality, and Richard went through two cigars.
They normally played Texas hold ‘em, but Five Card Draw had won out in the end. It was the usual draw,

“That’s cheating, man! You can’t do that!” Kennedy pointed at Michael, where a sixth card lay hidden in his lap. Michael grinned, throwing down a winning hand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kennedy. The only thing I see here is me. Winning.”

“No! It doesn’t count. You totally cheated!” Kennedy’s jaw hung open, his arm still outstretched at Michael. Garrett could hear the smile in his words, but he didn’t care. Sure, Michael was cheating. He cheated every week. All the guys knew he couldn’t play cards worth a damn, but since he was the best fighter, no one said a word.

“Back off, Kennedy. Leave him fucking alone.” Before he could process it, Garrett was on his feet, eager to defend Michael.

“And who asked you, princess? Did someone’s tiara get taken away?” Kennedy had dropped his hand, glaring back at Garrett.

“Leave him alone.”

They were both on their feet, fists clenched and faces red. The rest of the table was still sitting frozen in their seats. Darrin still had half a sandwich in his mouth, and Austin slowly lowered his beer bottle until it made a soft ding against the table.

“How about you get the fuck off your throne, Garrett, and come back when you aren’t being a little bitch?”

Garrett didn’t respond. His entire body was shaking, and he just turned towards the door, knocking over his chair on the way. The room was silent, save for Kennedy’s taunts.

Storming out of the tent, Garrett kicked anything and everything in his reach. He was tired of all the tension. He knew one of them should just suck it up and apologize, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“You okay?” Garrett rolled his eyes, tired of everyone asking the same thing, before he recognized the voice.

He saw her legs first, dangling off the side of the tall fence that surrounded the gardens. Melanie had an apple in her hands, taking a large bite from it as she hopped down to stand at Garrett’s height. Taking a final bite, she tossed the apple over the fence.

Garrett let out a sigh of relief, her familiar features coming into view.

“I’m good. You?”

She shrugged, her face all smiles. “No complaints here.”

He hesitated, unsure of what to say. She was leaning up against the fence now, her usual smirk in place. “So where’ve you been lately? I-uh, haven’t seen you around.”

“I’ve been here and there. You’ve been looking for me, then?”

She was teasing him, and he knew it. He fumbled over his words, tripping on his tongue. “Y-uh, no. I ju-just realized y-you weren’t around, that’s all.

“I could do worse than having you looking after me.” She smiled, and Garrett felt the blush rushing up the back of his neck.

“I don’t th-think you, uh, need anyone looking after you.”

Melanie shrugged, “I may not need anyone. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t mind.”

Leaving Garrett still searching for words, she backed up until she reached the door to the Rec Center. Giving him one last smile, she called back to him.

“Who knows? Maybe Will would be interested.”