The World's a Broken Bone; Melt Your Headaches & Call It Home

Running is definitely something people take for granted. Or at least, used to. It used to be, wake up for a morning run. Go for a run at the gym. Run with friends. Run through the park. You can complain about the pain in your legs or the level of your thirst because you have the chance to fix these things. You can sit down and take a break and get a drink and continue on when you feel like it. All of these things disappear when you are running for your life.

Everything becomes an obstacle, every breath could be your last. This wasn’t the world I was promised. There was no white collar 9-5 job. There was no loving husband and darling children and white picket fence and apple pie life. There was no home sweet home or mortgage payments or gas bills or car insurance. There was life and death, nothing more.

The forest was young, the trees tall but thin and spread out. In all honesty I didn’t know why I was still running, there was no salvation out there. The things following me would never tire like I did, they would not stop. If only I’d listened to Ross when he told me to always pack an extra clip. If only Ross had listened to me when I told him we should have stopped for the night. There would be no water here. Now there would be blood.

“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be.”

The words came out quiet at first, heaved out with my breath. The tears were clouding my vision, and I came to a decision. Without Ross, I wasn’t going to survive. Not one more day. I kept singing, louder and louder, that stupid overplayed Beatles song that reminded me of my dad. When I got half way up the side of a hill I toppled over. I couldn’t go any farther. A fit of tears became the undertone to the mindless growling and gnawing that drew closer. I could see the outline of their forms as they shuffled through the woods. I drew my legs up to my chest, closing my eyes.

“There will be an answer, let it be.”

The rustling came from behind me now as well and I wept even more, praying that they would kill me quickly. Instead, though, I jumped at the sound of a gun going off. My head whipped up as a man in front of me fired off two more shots, all three walkers lying dead on the ground. Properly dead. He watched them for a moment before turning and crouching before me. I stared at him wide eyed, half-wondering if maybe I was dead and this was just some sort of death-dream my mind conjured up instead of being eaten alive.

“Hey, you okay?” The man asked as I continued to shake, hyperventilating as the tears continued. “What’s your name?”

“J-Jenna”

“Jen, are you bit?” He placed his hands on either side of my face so that I would look at him. After a moment I shook my head, feebly wiping at my eyes. My heart was still racing as he helped me to my feet, but before he could say anything else I wrapped my arms around him. It took him a moment to respond, but it was the human reaction to have. I didn’t know what I felt most—gratitude for him saving my life or anger for him keeping me in this world. When I finally pulled myself together enough to take a step back he gave me a moment before speaking again. “My name’s Shane. We’re about five minutes away from a camp with about fifteen other people, can I take you there?”

I nodded my head and he slung the gun over his shoulder, leading the way. He took a few steps away but my feet were frozen, the corpses of the dead things lying with their arms still outstretched towards me. My fingers wrapped around the coin in my pocket and I twirled it in my hand in a sort of trance.

“Are there more walkers?” He placed his hand on my shoulder and I jumped, looking at him with confusion. “Dead things, were there more following you?”

With a shake of my head he placed his hand on my lower back and gently pushed me along beside him. My mind was clouded with thoughts of Ross and those things and this stupid, stupid world. It wasn’t long before we made it into a clearing of sorts speckled with tents, fires, and an RV. There were three people sitting at one of the campfires, two men and a woman.

“Aw hell, you won’t let us have seconds but you bring another damn stray cat home from the woods?”

“Merle, no one’s asking for your commentary.”

“Well Lori, ain’t no one askin’ for yours neither.”

“Is everything alright, Shane?” The other man asked. He was older and wore a Hawaiian shirt and canvas hat that made him look like a tourist. Shane led me towards the people and sat me down.

“This is Jenna.” He said, setting down the gun between us and sitting down. “Jen, this is Merle, Lori, and Dale. She was bein’ chased by three walkers.”

“Oh, this is the crazy singing bitch. Fan-tastic.” Merle whipped an empty cup to the ground. I kept my head down, the coin flipping over and over again in my hand.

“Come on now, Merle, everyone’s trying to sleep.” Dale said as Lori came up to me. She put a hand on my shoulder that I shied away from.

“You alright, sweetie?” She asked quietly as Merle stomped off into the darkness. I shook my head, the movement of the coin growing increasingly more furious until I stopped it, pressing the metal against my hand until it left an imprint. The tree and its roots. The land in between. The last reminder I had.

“He’s gone…”

“How bout I get you a drink or somethin’?” Shane asked, taking my silence for a yes.

“Carl used up the last of it before bed, you’ll have to go down to the quarry.”

“Quarry?” I asked, turning to face Lori. She seemed taken aback by my sudden coherence but nodded. “Where?”

“Just down over there.” She motioned to the path behind us and I felt like collapsing all over again. The coin resumed its acrobatics.

“He was right…” The void that had only started to establish itself in my core was expanding, making my skin itch. Shane stood up but I did too, promising that I could get it myself. That I needed a moment alone. A moment, an eternity—what was the difference? These people must’ve been here for a while, the earth patted down into a path that led down to the edge of the water that could have saved him. Could have saved us both. At least now it could return me to him.

Even with these people, I wouldn’t ever make it. Not without Ross. There wasn’t a reason to without him. We’d been two halves of a whole and I was useless. He was all I had left, and now that was gone. So as I walked up to the water’s edge, it was with a resolved sense of calm. This was how it had to be. It felt almost criminal to move into the water and disrupt its mirror-esque surface; but all I could pray for was that the calm would spread into me. I waded further and further in, the cold wasting no time in chilling through my clothes and skin all the way down to my bones. It worked quickly to send my body into the premature stages of shock, muscles showing the slightest tremor as the water lapped around my neck.

When I could no longer touch the bottom I swam out more so that any residual instincts for self-preservation could find no foothold, no way to come back. It was almost unfair, how beautiful this place was. If only we’d made it here a few footfalls sooner. If only, if only, if only. I would drown in the if onlys. I started crying again as the tremors elevated, but fear interrupted my self-wallowing when I heard my name being called. It was now or never. I took a deep breath and expelled it, submerging myself fully and closing my eyes. After a few seconds I finally built up the nerve and opened my mouth to breathe in all the water it would take to kill me.

It was a horrible way to die.

All that bullshit about a white light and peacefulness and your life flashing before you, it’s nothing like that. It’s as cold and heartless and terrifying as you’d expect death to be. Your heart and brain and lungs and muscles go into a frenzy trying to figure out what the fuck is going on, what on earth you were doing to them. The problem is, by the time you’re trying to abort the whole damn mission it’s too late. You lungs are seizing up, your heart clenches like an atom bomb in your chest, your head burns like a forest fire and you see everything. I saw my bone-white hands clawing at the nothingness of the water and my legs begging for some kind of ground and that stupid coin wedged between my fingers. A reminder. The last reminder. I prayed that whatever was on the other side included him and gave up. Bubbles flew up in front of my face and the whole world shut off.

I don’t know if it’s because I hadn’t “reached that point” yet or if that magic path to the afterlife is just a delusion but I was suspended in nothingness. There was no time or at least no means to measure it—just nothing. A horrible surplus of empty. I wasn’t aware of my body or mind or anything in the whole…wherever. Whenever. Whatever. All I know is that one second—hour—year—eternity—there’s nothing. And the next, I’m coughing up litres of water and trying to replace it with air. I rolled onto my stomach, arms trembling as I held myself up high enough to restore my lungs to their natural state. When my head stopped spinning I flattened onto the ground, the tremors continuing throughout my body as I processed what had happened.

“What are you doing?” Shane almost yelled at me as I rolled onto my back. He was hovering over me, wiping the wetness from his mouth with a crazy look in his eyes. I looked up at him, wondering how on earth he didn’t understand.

“What’s the point of living?” I breathed, sitting up slowly before getting to my feet. “What’s so great about a goddamn beating heart?”

“Hey!” He called out as I turned to go back to the water. He grabbed hold of my shoulders and forced me to look at him. “It’s the only thing separating us from those walkers, and you gotta hold onto that.”

“I’m already as good as dead.”

“I’ve already lost enough damn people, don’t you dare add to that list.” He dropped his hands from my shoulders and stared at me for a while as the coin started flipping again. “Let’s make a deal, alright? Just hold out for the week. In seven days, if you still feel like leavin’ you can. But I’m offerin’ you a place with us if you want it, okay?” Again, my silence meant yes. “C’mon, let’s get you somethin’ dry.”

I followed behind him like a scolded dog, head down and eyes averted. I kept my mouth shut, just standing in the middle of the camp dripping wet. Shane was exchanging words with Lori, her eyes watching me wearily, as I began to wring out my hair and clothes as best I could. She disappeared into what I assumed was her tent and returned soon after with a heap of clothing. They talked more before the clothes were given to Shane and Lori left without another look at me. He sighed heavily before returning, handing me the clothes and motioning for me to follow.

“I should go.” I said quietly, eyes fixed on the zipper rapidly being pulled up—the apocalyptic equivalent to slamming a door.

“You should come with me.” He challenged, waiting until I obeyed before leading me towards what I could only assume was where he slept. He let me in and waited outside while I changed—a difficult task in a tent four feet high. I emerged again and laid out the wet clothes where I was told, tugging at the shirt I was given in an attempt to cover up properly. It definitely wasn’t made for my body. He climbed back into the tent after me and zipped it up, collapsing on the opposite corner and resting his arms on his knees. I pulled my legs up against my chest and stared at the floor. For a few minutes we just sat there in silence, and I was almost ready to just lay down and sleep when he opened his mouth again.

“Back when it all started, the first people I went to check on were my parents. I called up my mom and she told me my old man was sick. I remember telling her to get out of the house, but she started screaming and I could hear the walker just—just chewing at her like dog food.” I looked up at him, but it was his turn to cast down his eyes. “I was a cop, and my partner he—he got shot and ended up in the hospital. Wasn’t wakin’ up or nothin’, not even when the outbreak came. I tried to get him out but I couldn’t. Lori, that was her husband. Carl’s dad. My best damn friend.”

“His name was Ross.” I said after a bit. I figured that’s what he wanted to know, that was the reason for his story. He wanted to know who I’d lost. “My brother. We were twins, he was six seconds older than me. We were on our way to Atlanta to see if our dad was still alive—we both knew he wasn’t, but we…we needed a goal. We stopped back where the cars got thick and he said there was probably a source of water somewhere in the forest. I told him we should have waited till morning, I told him. But we went out anyways and ran into a mob and emptied our clips and then he just—”

“I get it.”

“No, you don’t.” The tears forced their way out as the image replayed in my mind for the thousandth time. “He had one bullet left and he told me to run and he put the gun to his head and he fired. We were five fucking minutes away from his stupid water and he died. The walkers only stopped for a bit before they came after me…”

“I’m sorry, Jenna.” He said quietly. I laid down, turning away from him and holding the coin to my chest. A little piece of dad and a little piece of Ross. All I ever loved commemorated by a slice of metal that could fit in my hand. Shane let out a heavy sigh and pulled a blanket over my still-shivering body before laying down himself.

“One week.” I whispered. “That’s it.”