White Noise

Lila crying in her sleep is what woke me up. Instinctively I bolted upright, ready to rush to her side, but Sasha was already there. She sat beside Lila, reassuring her that it was only a dream, that everything was okay.

But it wasn't, not really. Because Trudy was murdered and Ryan was dead and Lila was pregnant and I was...apathetic. I didn't have it in me to care. Sasha was caring for Lila. Peter was asleep in a chair nearby. Natalie was doing some senseless arts and crafts project. Darren was hovering around the edge of my peripherals. Scarlett was nowhere to be found. And I just didn't care.

Because whatever had Lila crying in her sleep wasn't something I could fix. Ryan being dead wasn't something I could fix. I couldn't fix the fact that a woman and her unborn child had been murdered in cold blood. And if I couldn't fix it, why should I care at all?

A small part of me was fighting that. Obviously I had to care. Lila was pregnant. One of my best friends. I couldn't just not care. But that small part of me was losing. Our group had grown. Scarlett said herself that everyone was all about Baby Ryan. I wouldn't have to worry about Lila, she'd be fine with or without me here.

My head was pounding, my vision was blurry, and my throat was excruciatingly dry. There was a bottle of water on the table just a few feet away. That was the only thing I cared about in that moment. I forced myself to my feet and staggered to the table. Twisting off the lid drained most of my energy right there, but I still lifted the bottle to my lips and chugged it down.

Darren approached me as I lowered the bottle. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” I responded. I felt so many different aches and pains through my arms, shoulders, and back. My skin felt clammy and damp. My hair was drenched with sweat and plastered to my face.

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, I guess that's fair. I didn't know if you'd seen yet, but there's a bathroom and showers. It's not the Ritz, but it's pretty nice to feel clean.”

I looked at him, and then at the rest of our ragtag group. At some point, even Peter had cleaned up. “At this point, having a bucket of water dumped on me would compare to the shower in a four star hotel.”

Even though my voice was flat, he managed a laugh before leading me upstairs and through a maze of doors. “This is the wardrobe room. At least, that's what Scar said Logan called it. If it fits, it's yours. At least, that's my understanding.”

I shrugged past him further into the room. I studied the clothes strewn throughout before settling on a pair of sturdy Carhartts – Ryan used to wear them when he worked in the power plant in our town. Their unique brown shade (which is, surprisingly, called 'Carhartt brown') felt comforting to me. After scanning the clothes for a few more moments, I found a gray t-shirt and a burgundy fleece pullover that was a little too big, but I'd make it work. I grabbed a few other odds and ends, such as socks, before following Darren back to the bathroom.

It may not have been a Four Seasons, but there was shampoo and soap and for a minute, even under the cold water, I felt like I was in a different world. I toweled off, put on my “new” clothes, and reemerged into the land of the living.

“You look so much better!” Darren smiled, clapping a hand on my shoulder as I arrived back to the cots.

I shrugged, watching Sasha obsess over Lila. “Where's Scar?”

Darren's expression darkened. “Well, she took Logan and some guy to find Gabe.”

On the inside, all I could think was “she did what?” Did that girl just have a death wish? Did she thrive off of searching for danger? But outwardly, all I managed was, “Oh.”

“Don't worry, Hol,” Sasha spoke from where she stood, tucking blankets around Lila. “They'll be fine.”

“Yeah,” I responded. I took a seat back on the cot, trying to will away the pounding headache.

“You okay?” Sasha asked.

“Yeah. Just a headache,” I mumbled in response. I stood again, looking at the blankets on the cot.

“Darren, go find the doctor. See if she has any Tylenol and more blankets for the cot.” Sasha's voice was smooth but authoritative.

“Yeah, not a prob,” he turned to chase down Dr. Yancy, who was taking inventory of her supplies in one of the offices upstairs.

“Really, I'm fine,” I muttered.

“No, you're not,” Sasha replied. She fluffed Lila's pillow before moving to stand before me. “Nobody sees what you've seen and is 'fine'. It's okay to not be okay. Besides, you're supposed to take it easy for a bit. Doctor's orders.”

I groaned inwardly but just nodded. No use in trying to fight that, either.

It wasn't long before Darren returned with Dr. Yancy in tow, yielding a couple of blankets and a bottle of Tylenol.

“Glad to see you're up,” she smiled warmly. I tried to return the gesture, but I think all I achieved was a grimace.

She handed me a few Tylenol, which I swallowed quickly before guzzling more water. She checked my temperature and blood pressure while Darren replaced the blankets on the cot.

“Everything seems okay...your blood pressure is a little low, which is surprising, but other than that you seem to be fine. Still, I want you to take it easy here for a little bit. Lay back down. I'll get someone to bring you some food.”

And off she went again. She seemed to be a busy woman.

Resigned to the fact that I wasn't going anywhere, I plopped myself back down on the cot. Darren took a seat on the floor next to me.

“You're really brave, you know that?”

I turned my head from staring at the ceiling to looking at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean...you didn't even think. You just acted. You held her hand while she was dying. You comforted her even though you knew she wouldn't make it. How did you do that?”

I turned to look back at the ceiling again. I really didn't want to think about it.

“I'm sorry, man. I know you probably don't want to talk about it. I'm just...” he sighed. “I'm used to being Scarlett's right hand man. But the way you two work together, and not just tonight but in general, it made me realize that I'm not that good at being her right hand man. You are.”

I kept quiet, trying to process what he was saying, but he continued.

“You kept Ryan and Lila alive for over a year. You didn't even hesitate to save our lives, even though you put your own in danger. You're selfless, and you're smart. There needs to be more people like you in the apocalypse.”

I shook my head. There really didn't need to be more people like me. I just let people die.

“I guess what I'm really trying to say is thank you. Thank you for risking it to save us. Thank you for reminding Scarlett that it's okay to get attached.” He patted me on the shoulder before he walked away.

I was once again left to my own devices, to process information and memories that I didn't want. How could he thank me? I felt like a monster. I felt like a curse.

I must've fallen back to sleep, because a whispering woke me up. “Holland!”

My eyes shot open, searching for the source. I turned my head to see Lila looking at me. “What?”

“Are you okay?” she whispered back. I noticed then that it was significantly darker in the warehouse. Lights had been dimmed, candles extinguished. Other than the moon shining in through the windows, it was dark.

I turned my body to face her. “Are you?”

She nodded solemnly. “Can I sleep with you?”

“What?”

“Please, Hol. I'm scared.”

I sighed. The cots were small, but so was Lila, and I wasn't exactly taking up too much room. “I guess.”

She carefully lifted herself from her cot, before tiptoeing her way to mine. I scooted back to make room, and she slid under the blanket, facing me. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“What's got you scared?” I asked.

She bit her lip, fingers playing with the wedding band on the chain. I could tell by how her hair was neatly braided, and how clean her face was, that she'd taken a shower somewhat recently as well. I could see in her eyes that she was trying to figure something out.

“I'm just scared of everything right now,” she mumbled. “I'm pregnant in the zombie apocalypse. Who wouldn't be scared of that?”

I nodded. “I'm sorry.”

“Hol, are you sure you're alright?” her wide eyes were full of concern, and I sighed heavily.

“I'll be fine. So will you. Let's just try to get some sleep, okay?”

“Mkay,” she whispered, tucking her head into my chest. “I'm sorry, Holland.”

“Hmm?” What could she have to apologize for? She's been the least problematic part of my day.

“About Ryan,” she muttered. “He may have been the love of my life, but he was your best friend first. Everyone is so caught up in me, how I feel, me being pregnant. They don't realize that you're just as heartbroken and hurt as I am. If not more.” She draped her arm around my waist and snuggled in closer. “I just want you to know that I see you, too. I know I can't replace Ryan. I don't want to. I just want you to know that I see you, the real you. Just like he did.”

I didn't have the words. I felt so guilty. She wasn't there. If I would have moved just a little faster, or just went to the basement with them to begin with...If I would have done anything differently, he might still be alive. She wouldn't be alone in the apocalypse.

Maybe I didn't pull the trigger, but I might as well have.