You're Hoping For A Taste

The safe house is a spacious log cabin situated on the top of a hill that overlooks the valley, hemmed in on either side by the forest. In the distance, Medford rises grey and lifeless.

Justin and Jack came to collect us. I guessed Gabe and Jesse must have filled them in because neither were surprised to see me. Kellin relayed what happened, and once we reached the house he was forced to tell it all again for Gabe and Jesse. As soon as there was a lull in conversation I interrupted, asking if there was anywhere I could get cleaned up. If the boys noticed the stench rolling off me they did a pretty good job of hiding it. Gabe helped me up the stairs, my ankle still hurting, and directed me to the bathroom. He explained, a bit apologetically, that the closest they had to a shower was buckets of water they'd collected from the stream out back. You heated the water over the fireplace then you just had to carry the buckets upstairs and tip the water over your head.

“The water might not be that warm, it's been stood here for a while; Jack was gonna have a shower till you two called,” Gabe said. I assured him that it would be fine, I was just happy to finally have soap and shampoo.

Now I'm stood in the bath, four out of five buckets down. I've scrubbed all the grime from my body, the dirt turning the water brown as it spiralled down the plughole. I've shampooed my hair twice and currently I'm running conditioner through the ends, my hair no longer matted and knotted but now smooth in my hands. I try and think back to the last time I had a proper wash. It was a few days ago, when Kellin and I stopped off at the river on our way to Medford. That feels like a lifetime ago.

I tip the last bucket over my head. I've never felt so clean. I step out of the bath tub, goosebumps rising on my skin, and move my change of clothes aside to grab the towel underneath. I deserve a pat on the back for thinking of washing the clothes at the river, and also for not changing into them until now. Clean clothes are a blessing, there's nothing worse than fabric that feels slimy with sweat but also stiff with dirt.

My stomach grumbles loudly, like the thunder last night. I had some food to eat in the car but I'm still so hungry. I hurriedly dry myself and throw my clothes on, my wet hair soaking one shoulder. I lob my dirty clothes into the washing basket, making a mental note to clean them later. Right now, I need food.

I open the bathroom door and my eyes meet Kellin's. He's leaning casually against the opposite wall and I falter in the doorway.

“Are you waiting for the bathroom?” I ask, and he nods. I Immediately flush with embarrassment; of course he's waiting for the bathroom, he's certainly not waiting for me.

I step from the doorway and he moves too, crossing the short width of the hallway to stand in front of me, one arm outstretched so he can lean on the wall. “How are you feeling?” His voice is hushed. Downstairs I can hear the others talking loudly.

I shrug. “My ankle is still giving me grief but I feel better after having a wash; at least I don't stink any more. You, on the other hand...” I make a show of wrinkling my nose in disgust.

He smiles. “Yeah I don't smell too good,” he says, lifting his t-shirt up to sniff it. He pulls a face and I laugh.

“Thank you, though,” I say, “for everything. I pretty much owe you my life, Kellin. I'd be dead right now if it wasn't for you.”

“Well so would I,” he answers. “Where did you learn to swing like that?”

I realise he's talking about me hitting that Walker with the branch, and the memory of it brings up conflicting emotions; fear and a sense of pride for saving Kellin for once. “Rounders,” I reply.

“What's that?”

“It's like baseball but with smaller bats and you can only swing one-handed and... yeah, I'll explain the differences another time. We used to play it at school,” I explain. A pang of homesickness clenches in my gut and I try my best to ignore it. That world is gone now, no point in dwelling on the past; nostalgia won't get me anywhere.

Kellin smiles, and the sight of it is warm and comforting. Just that one little gesture, his lips curving upwards, has the power to make me feel safe and at ease. “Well, like I said, I'd be dead too if it wasn't for you, so thanks.”

“You're welcome.” That's when I notice how close we're standing to each other. Just inches separate us, too close for a normal conversational distance. I know what I'm going to do, and a part of me is yelling that I shouldn't, I can't, it's not going to end well. But if there's anything I've learned in these past two months, it's to trust your instincts.

I'm the one who closes the gap this time, moving swiftly upwards till my lips touch his again. He doesn't react immediately, but he doesn't jerk away, and just that nanosecond of hesitation before he kisses me back feels like an eternity. His lips press hard against mine, a little chapped from our days spent outside but I don't care. All I care about is the fact that he's not breaking away. His hands come to rest on either side of my face, pulling me closer to him, and I can feel the urgency between us in the way our lips move against one another, the time leading up to this point having dragged out so long.

He ends the kiss but he doesn't pull away. Instead he rests his forehead on mine and we stand there, eyes closed and breathing slightly laboured, our breath intermingling. But all the while there is this voice at the back of my mind. Will he say it was a mistake again?

There's the sound of someone clearing their throat. Kellin quickly moves back, dropping his hands from my face. I'm the one with the clear view of the stairs, and I see Jesse standing at the top looking awkward.

“I'm not interrupting anything, am I?” he asks, but this just feels like a courtesy, a chance for us to lie.

And lie I do. I put on what I hope is an easy smile and wave Jesse's question away. “Oh, no, sorry, I just got a bit overwhelmed about everything.”

Kellin doesn't even look over his shoulder, just stares at the floor as though if he looks at Jesse he'll turn to stone.

Jesse smiles uncomfortably. “Alright, well I was just coming to get the buckets so I could fetch some more water.”

“Okay,” I say with another forced smile as Jesse moves past us into the bathroom. Kellin meets my eyes but the expression on his face is unreadable. Is he regretting what just happened? I don't bother to wait to find out.

“I'm gonna go get some food,” I tell him, and hurry downstairs, wincing as my ankle throbs.

I find Gabe, Justin and Jack sat round the kitchen table. Gabe looks up from his plate and smiles. “You're looking cleaner.”

I wonder if they know, somehow, what just happened. “It feels so great to be clean.”

“Cheese and crackers?” He offers me his plate.

“Actually,” I reply, rifling through my bag where I left it on the floor, “I was wondering if I could cook this.”

I hold up a slightly battered but intact tin of Heinz baked beans. I brought them with me from England at the beginning of my trip and I've been saving them for the right time since the Outbreak.

“Sure, put it in the pot,” Justin says, gesturing towards the fire where a ceramic pot is suspended over it.

It's when I'm stirring the pot that the call comes. A sharp crackle of static and then a voice calling, “Guys, are you there? It's Vic.”

The three boys at the table leap to their feet and rush over to a large, box-shaped contraption on the kitchen worktop. It must be a radio transceiver. Gabe scoops up the little microphone, a grin on his face, and says, “Hey Vic, it's Gabe. How's it going?”

A pause. “It's going great thanks, man. Did you find Kellin?”

“Yeah, we got Kellin and Alexa not too long ago, they're fine,” Gabe answers.

“That's good, I'm glad they're okay. So are you gonna make your way down to San Diego now?”

“Not for a few more days. We're now a car short, we're gonna have to go into Medford on another supply run.”

Another supply run. Let's hope this doesn't end in disaster.

“Ah shit. Do you need another car?” Vic asks.

“I don't know, we'll probably discuss everything later then get back to you, that okay?”

“Yeah, sure, man. Talk to you later.”

“Bye dude.”

Gabe puts the mic down and the three of them return to the table. “Who's Vic?” I ask them. I'm presuming he's one of the friends Kellin spoke about. He said that him and the others were planning on going down to San Diego to meet up with these friends of theirs.

“Vic Fuentes, he's a friend down in San Diego, that's where we're headed,” Jack replies.

Before I can answer, Kellin comes charging down the stairs. “Was that Vic?”

The others nod.

“Shit, I wanted to talk to him,” he says, looking dejected.

“We're calling him back later,” Justin says, stretching in his chair, “you can talk to him then.”

Kellin catches my eye and I feel an apprehension swell in me like a river about to burst its banks. Is it going to be like it was before, awkward and tense? Will he ignore me?

I point to the pot. “Baked beans?”

He stands there for a second, then he smiles. “Yeah, why not.”