Three

“So, is he, like, the leader?” I asked as we left the demo house.

                “Who, Leo?”

                “Yeah.”

                “Not exactly. He’s more like…second in command.”

                “Second to who?”

                “Well, to me.”

                “You?”

                “Don’t seem so surprised.”

                “It’s just that…he’s gotta be three times your age.”

                “How old do you think I am?”

                “Sixteen? Seventeen?”

                “I’m twenty.”

                “I’m twenty-four.” She looked surprised to hear that.

                “Anyway, we’d better get moving, looks like it might be dark soon. If you see something like the truck we had, or, even better, a moving truck, let me know. We’re probably gonna have to haul as many as we can find.”

                We walked in silence for a while, surveying the area, keeping our eyes peeled for vehicles. I still jumped at every leaf moving in the wind, but Bruce didn’t flinch at anything. Even when a small group of infected came after us, she was barely phased. I had scarcely reached for my gun, and she’d already taken out the last of them.

                “You’re going to have to be quicker if you want to last out here, kid.”

                “I’m five years older than you.”

                “Age doesn't matter anymore. All that matters out here is your ability to survive."

                When we got to the nearest appliance store, we still had no vehicle.

                “No sense going in without something to haul. Let’s go up the next block or two, see if we can find anything.”

                We walked on for five blocks, and just as it was beginning to get dark, we hit pay dirt.

                “Eureka,” said Bruce, as a U-Haul lot came into view around the corner. “We might as well each take one. As a functional adult, I assume you can drive,” she said, heading over to the biggest truck on the lot and taking her punctured tennis ball out of her bag.

                “We’ll have to get you one of these,” she said, unlocking the door with it, “and you should probably watch while I start it. If you’re gonna be me, you’ll have to know the tricks of the trade.”

                As she instructed, I squeezed in under the dash next to her while she hotwired the truck.

                “Okay, so this truck is newer, so it wouldn’t work on this, but on most cars manufactured before the nineties, you can just jam a flathead screwdriver in the ignition and turn it. But on these, you have to take the steering column apart. So, take out all the screws, pry it apart with your flathead, and…viola. Now, see how there are two red wires and two brown wires? Cut all of those. It’s best to wear gloves beyond this point," she slid on a pair of brown leather gloves. "Clip the insulation off all of them, and twist the ends of the red wires together. That’ll turn on the radio, and all the other stuff connected to the battery. Now touch the ends of the brown wires together to start the engine and…there we go. Tape the ends so you won’t get shocked while you’re driving, and you’re good to go. You take this one, I’m gonna go grab that one,” she said, pointing to another huge truck, and taking off toward it.

                Two minutes later, Bruce had successfully hotwired another truck, and we were on our way back to the appliance store. Once inside, we found enough fridges to just about fill both trucks. We got to work loading each one onto a dolly, and into the trucks.

                “I know you said this was our one chance to reinvent ourselves, but, I’m curious. Who were you before all this?”

                She hesitated.

                “I was a sophomore in college. Living in California, and, as strange as it may sound, majoring in the culinary arts, and minoring in psychology. I loved to cook, and knit, and I liked to know things. I used to just watch videos online, just finding out how to do things I never thought I’d need. And now I’m hotwiring cars and siphoning gas.”

                “How did you end up here?”

                “My brother was visiting me when this all happened, and we were...s**t, we were scared. The first thing we did was ransack a gun shop.Our plan was to leave the city. We figured, the more people there are, the more infected there are. So, we found a store, and we stole ourselves some supplies. When we were leaving the store, a horde came after us. I didn’t…I wasn’t like I am now. I wasn’t prepared. But we were armed, so we had the advantage…we managed to take them all out, but we were both hurt pretty badly.  I was just cut up, but he…one of them took a huge chunk, right out of his neck. There was so much blood. I didn’t know if I should be more worried about him turning or dying. I knew it was pointless, but I had to do something, so I got my med kit out, and tried to clean him up, but he was bleeding faster than I could wipe up the blood. After that, there was nothing to do but wait.

                "I sat on the floor of the store, and he lay with his head in my lap, and I looked into his eyes and watched as he tried to fight it. But we both knew, there’s no fighting the Infection.  The last thing I said to him was, ‘I love you.’ And then I shot him.”

                She stopped there, for so long I didn't think she would continue.

                “I’m here because I grew up a few miles away. I came here looking for my parents, but…I never found them. Their house was empty, but in good shape, so I’m still hoping they escaped.”

                We were silent as we finished working, and after another hour or so, we were ready to go.

                “I know it’s dark, but if you can avoid it, keep your headlights off,” said Bruce, climbing back into her truck. “The streetlights should be enough for us to see where we’re headed, and it’s not a long drive. The infected are attracted to the lights. Obviously, it wouldn’t be hard to take some out in these, but I’d rather not take any risks tonight. Let’s go home.”

                The distance that took hours to walk took a mere fifteen minutes to drive. We pulled up to Leo’s demo house and parked in front of it. The truck full of food was gone.

                “Come on, I'll show you the house,” said Bruce, and we began walking down a side-street to the left. We walked for about two minutes before she pointed to a rather large house and said, “this is ours.”

                “Are you the only one who lives here?”

                “Not anymore.”

                “Why is it so…big?”

                "Leo was expecting more people to step up as guardians. When I was the only one, he told me I might as well keep the house. Said a president should have a presidential home.”

                “President? Is that what you are?”

                She shrugged.

                “I don’t see myself as a leader. But the people look up to me, they count on me. So I guess that makes me the president."

                Bruce led me into the house, and gave me a quick tour of the place. It was three stories, with five bedrooms and six bathrooms. It had a basement, a fully stocked kitchen, a family room, a TV room, and a dining room.

                “This is my room,” she said, gesturing to a somewhat messy bedroom with a large bed and several red and black pillows and quilts. “Other than this one, of course, you can pick any room you’d like. There are a bunch of bed sets in the linen closet. Take as much as you want. We’ve got a rescue operation tomorrow, that should take all day, so I'm off to bed."

                Bruce disappeared into her room, and I went off to explore the other rooms further.  I went into all four spare rooms several times before I realized I wouldn’t be able to sleep in any of them. Reluctantly, I went back to Bruce’s room and quietly opened the door.

                “Um, Bruce? This might sound strange…and forward, and wimpy, but, I’m afraid to sleep alone…”

                “Come on in. I hate sleeping alone, too,” said Bruce, scooting over in her bed and patting the space next to her with her hand.

                With her approval, I closed the door and crossed the room quickly, climbing into the bed next to Bruce. Taking me by immense surprise, Bruce snuggled up close to me, laying her head on my shoulder and resting her hand on my chest. Not quite sure what to do, I wrapped my arms around her. My hand came to rest on her thigh, and I realized--

                “You aren’t wearing any pants.”

                “Of course not,” she said, matter-of-factly, “I can’t sleep in pants.”

“It...it doesn't matter to you that you're not wearing pants, and I'm here, and we just met?”

“Should it?” she said, pushing herself up on her elbows, “Should anything that used to matter, matter anymore?”

I didn't quite know how to respond, and Bruce must have seen that, because she put her head back down on my shoulder and closed her eyes.