Croatoan part 2/?
Warnings: adorible children and awesome characters! none
Disclaimer: supernatural and its characters belong to eric kripke and the cw
Parts: One
CROATOAN
Alice woke groggily. It was Saturday, which meant no school for the weekend and the next week (thank you spring break), but a lot of Latin translations and exorcism study, even though the demons bailed Earth long ago. She scrubbed her hands over her face and looked to the left.
A bed sat parallel to hers, not two feet away. Curled under the crumpled and less-than-clean sheets was a small body. Looking straight again, she examined the bed that ran the just a few feet short of the length of the wall opposite her. A body slightly larger than the one next to her was contently snoozing, chest slowly rising and falling in the silent slumber of 5 a.m.
Alice swung her legs out from under the sheets of her own bed, and her feet hit the carpet with a soft thump. She stood and maneuvered her way through the mess of clothes on the floor; swaying slightly to avoid the three corners of the too-close beds that made up almost all of the furniture in the room, save for two dressers, one between the parallel beds, the other just fitting in the closet. She exited the room, closed the door slowly, and cringed as the lock made a small click noise. Alice turned her head, peeking into the open room across the hallway, despite the empty sounds of the house. Just because no one else occupied the small, two-bedroom apartment didn’t mean nothing else was in the house with them.
Her feet made small, padded noises as she quietly shuffled across the carpet, plopping down onto a worn leather loveseat. The couch was old, and not exactly comfortable, but she was content.
“Alice?” a small voice called out. Just beyond the shadows of the hallway stood a small figure, a girl who could be no older than three and a half. She swayed slightly, still in a hazy state from just waking up. The collar of the oversized shirt she was wearing had slipped down her shoulder, exposing pale skin. The little girl rubbed her eyes with fisted hands, and twisted her mouth in concentration.
“Alex,” Alice spoke, “why are you up right now? You should be asleep, it’s too early.” Alice stood from her spot on the couch and walked over to Alex, squatting to her level, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“I couldn’t sleep, and I saw you get up…” she trailed off with a yawn, and leaned into the hand on her shoulder. Alice pulled her in and held her close, the young child placing her head where Alice’s neck met shoulder and breathed quietly. Alice smiled and rubbed her hand down Alex’s small back. She cupped Alex’s head and attempted, with avail, to smooth down the blonde hair that was still sticking up from sleep.
“Alright,” she said, pulling back from the hug, “want some breakfast? I know it’s early, but are you hungry?” Alex nodded her head and rubbed her eyes again. “Okay kiddo. Go wake up Jeremy, and remember, be nice.” She nodded and padded down the short hallway, back to her room, where Alice could hear the quiet whispers of Get up Jer’my. Alice is gonna make breakfast! Alice’s lips turned up in a quick smile as she stood and walked into the kitchen.
She opened the nearly empty refrigerator and pulled out two small eggs, the last that she’d probably ever see. She went to the light switch and tried it. Nothing happened. Great, she thought, power’s not on ‘til nine… she went out to the balcony (being on the second floor had its perks) and walked up to the coal grill. She threw some news paper into the pit and doused it with lighter fluid. Ducking under the grill revealed a box of matches. She grabbed three between her fingers and lit them, throwing them into the pile of paper. It was one of Alice’s favorite things to watch a fire catch, tiny blue flames lighting before the orange-red ones push their way through. The heat was barley there, and she got three coals to light before the flame completely died, and that should suffice.
Alice went back inside, grabbing an old pan out of the cabinet. She leaned out the door and placed it over the flames and while waiting for the pan to heat up, she looked over the balcony into the neighbor’s yard, or what was left of it.
The yard itself was still there, but the fence that used to line it was half torn down. The other half was made up of broken planks and rotted wood. The ground was littered with things from old bike parts to pieces of roof from three apartments down. The place felt as empty as it looked, and the family that lived there had fled months before. That apartment was now an extreme emergency panic room, along with the carport that is attached to this, and other apartment buildings. From where she stood, she could see her school. It stood only twenty yards from where the neighbor’s yard stood, and the entire perimeter of the school was surrounded by a think-barred, black fence that locked during the school days and opened as the final bell rang.
Alice almost forgot about the eggs she wanted to cook, and turned back to go inside again to grab the two orbs that sat on the kitchen’s counter. She rolled them in her hands before setting one down on the edge of the grill and cracking the other on the rim of the pan, dropping the contents in the pan with a thin sizzle. She stuck a fork into the middle of the yellow yolk, breaking it and watching it spread over the deepening white. She mixed them, pushed them to the edge of the pan, and broke the other egg into the pan. Once the eggs were done she separated the scrambled mass into three even parts, placed them on three separate plates and walked into the living room. Two sets of eyes fell on her and mouths thinned into almost-smiles as she set the plates into laps and handed over two forks.
Four hours passed smoothly and boringly, light finally beginning to pool into the house as the sun rose past the mountains. It might have been her imagination or it might have been real, but the sun seemed to rise later now that the world was in a post-apocalyptic state.
Out of nowhere, a light flickered on, shining a dim light on the unoccupied kitchen, marking Nine o’clock a.m. exactly. Alex squealed and set down the “Curious George” book she was reading and began to jump up and down. She did this every morning, with the exception of a possible book swap.
“Alice, Alice, the lights are back on! Can we watch a DVD now?” the anticipation in her voice was growing thicker and thicker with each words she spoke. Jeremy looked up at Alice from the spot on the floor he occupied and his hazel eyes caught the light in a way that made his eyes flare. For a kid that was only eleven, he gave off some serious emotion without saying a word. Alice smiled and nodded her head. Alex took off towards the shelf that had all the DVD’s stacked on it and started fingering her way through the cases, pulling “Where the Wild Things are” off the shelf. The content, even being a children’s movie, was a little heavy for a three year old, but Alex couldn’t tell the difference. She plopped down on her knees and pressed a few buttons on the DVD player and in a few minutes, Max the Wolf King appeared on the screen, yelling at the Wild Things to “be still”. The movie was played twice, and each time, Alex mouthed the words throughout the entire thing.
While cries of the wild rang on in the background, Alice sat on her bed and worked on translating the Latin that sat in front of her.
“Exorcizamus te, we exorcise you, omnis immundus spiritus, every impure spirit, omnis satanic potestas, ever satanic power, omnis incursion infernalis adversarii, every incursion of the infernal adver-“ her work was interrupted with the shout of her name. “Yes?” she responded. It was Alex who had called her.
“Alice, we’re out of soap for our hands!” Alex cried. Six years ago this would have been no problem, but with the virus that was floating around now-a-days, it was crucial. Alice closed her journal and left her bed. She walked into the bathroom where Alex stood on her little stepping stool, water from her hands dripping onto the floor, mouth hanging slightly open, eyes wide and staring at the empty soap dispenser next to the sink.
“Dammit,” Alice breathed as she picked up the empty container. She set it back down and bent over to check the bathroom drawers. She found what she was looking for; two tiny lumps of soap, one carved into a heart, the other into a small duck. She placed the heart in Alex’s hands and kissed her in her still sleep mussed hair. “Don’t use too much, save some for Jeremy too.” Alex nodded her head and continued to wash her hands.
Alice walked back to her room, looked under her bed, and pulled out a pair of broken-in, thick-soled leather boots. She sat on the edge of her bed and tugged on first the left, then the right boot and wiggled her toes inside. It had been a few months since she had worn them, and they felt foreign on her feet. She leaned down and slid open her bottom drawer, pulling out a thick button up flannel shirt and a light tan leather jacket; two articles of clothing she saved for supply runs.
She walked to the front room and grabbed the pump-action shot gun that was always leaning on the edge of the wall that opened up to be the living room.
As she put her hand the gun, Jeremy and Alex (who had returned to the living room to watch her movie for the fourth time that day) looked up at her, worry shifting in both sets of eyes. Alice tried to smile, but it came out more like cringe.
“We’re out of soap and running kind of low on food, so I’m going on a supply run. I’ll be back within two hours. Lock the doors and do not, under any circumstances, open it for anyone. I will have my key and will knock three times before going for the locks, okay?” Alex nodded, she knew at her young age that there was nothing she could do, but Jeremy wouldn’t give in that easy. He stood and turned to Alice, worry swimming through his eyes.
“You can’t go out there. Who knows what could happen to you all alone like that?” Jeremy protested.
“Jeremy. You know that I’ve been out on my own before. I can handle this; it’s what I’ve done for a few years now. I’ll be fine. It’s alright,” Alice tried to reassure him, but there was nothing she could do. Jeremy was strong and unwavering. Alice peeked at Alex who had turned from her movie and was now watching intently.
“No,” Jeremy said, stepping in front of Alice, blocking her view of Alex. “No, I’m not going to let you just go out there by yourself and throw yourself to those monsters!” Jeremy was nearly shouting now, water rising slowly in his eyes. He blinked before they could fully surface.
“Jeremy, stop it!” Alice yelled back, “you know I have to do this alone. We need food, and I know you could hold your own out there, but I need to go before the sun goes down, and Alex is too small to bring with us, so I’m going, and you’re staying here, understand me?” Alice stared at Jeremy, and the younger boy stood down. He sat next to Alex and ran his fingers through her hair, flattening it down as much as possible without a comb. Alice picked up the shotgun, and walked into the kitchen.
Food wasn’t the only that the kitchen harbored. It was also home to hidden guns, knives not made for cutting steaks, and most importantly, and unending haven of ammunition. Alice went to a drawer and pulled out a small box of shotgun shells. Without thinking, she jammed the entire box into her duffle bag and walked out of the kitchen, turning off the light as she went.
She turned around to look at the two children sitting in her living room before she grabbed her keys and turned on her heels to walk out of the house, locking the door behind her.
Standing in the unlit cement stairwell had never been her favorite thing to do, even before all the Croats started to run amuck on the planet that could barley be recognized as earth today. She took the stairs at a fast pace, and the light slightly burned her eyes as she breached the mouth of the stairwell. She dug in her bag and pulled out classic Ray Ban sunglasses and slipped them on. It helped, and she didn’t have to squint anymore; no impaired vision. Looking around the barren wasteland was never very fun. There were about six over-turned cars, four buildings per block that had crumbled into the streets, and other bits of furniture, roofs, and clothing were strewn across the ground. Alice could walk maybe five steps before she would have to step over something new. She once even had to climb over a barricade made by several cars, a bike and even a broken shopping cart.
Walking down the street was dangerous for a few reasons. One reason was the cannibalistic post-humans that ran around, trying to attack you, kill you, and eat you. If you escaped death, you were lucky, but there’s more than just a possibility that you were scratched or even bitten, which meant that because you couldn’t beat them; you were now forced to join them. Within six hours, you would start to get very hungry, then you’ll begin to lose sense of what’s going on around you, and soon enough, you’re wandering around, trying to find any living thing to snack on. Alice was glad that she didn’t have to worry about becoming one, but becoming one of their meals was still a very real possibility and she didn’t want that to happen either.
She crossed the cracked asphalt that used to be street, and walked into the brush. They’re may not have been any Croats in sight, but they had no problem sneaking up on you, and the less visible you were, the better. Alice wasn’t the last person on earth, but she was the last person that lived in that entire neighborhood, the last person within a three mile radius, actually, and she wasn’t anticipating any other visitors. She owned this entire neighbor hood; had locked all the important stores with her own personal locks, raided almost every house that was within a running’s distance, stashed food and other supplies there, and even, when she was feeling especially daring, would take a walk around the park that was long ago abandoned.
After about a mile long walk, Alice approached her favorite store, a generic all-around store that she now remembered was call a… Walgreens? Something like that. The lights of the surrounding stores still buzzed lightly, and it gave off an awkward feeling, like other people should be around, ordering food and stuffing their faces, but no one was, no one was eating, no one else but herself was even alive around here. It was silent save for the crunching of Alice’s boots on the sidewalk. It made her feel small and alone; and she was.
Alice walked through the shadows, shotgun ready in her hands, already cocked and loaded, duffle bag around her back. She quickly poked her head out of the bushes she was walking in, and darted across the street, ducking behind a four-car pile-up that had been there for three years. She could still remember how the Croats attacked from all sides in a mass swarm, and ripped the people from the cars, leaving a bloody mess that not even the powerful rains of the Apocalypse could wash away. Alice had been hiding in the bushes as it happened, and she made a point of keeping extremely quiet and still, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to herself.
She rushed away, looking back for only a second at the dark stain in the asphalt. The intersection of this street was cluttered with store windows and doors, glass from hundreds of different cars that have crashed here, and other things that are now unidentifiable with age and deterioration. She stepped over a car door and ran to the edge of a building, pressing flat against it. She caught her breath before she moved on again, head turning instinctively from left to right. Just a few steps until she was at the front of the store, and she stretched her strides so that she would get to the doors quicker and she would be out of the open.
She knew something was off, something that she couldn’t quite determine at the time. It was like looking at your shelf and noticing something new was there and not being able to tell what it was, even though it was right in front of your face. Alice reached into her pocket and pulled out her ring of keys, one for each store she now owned. She found the key that opened her store, and she was just about to open the doors when she saw what had been off. It was a jeep, the ones that used to be on the commercials, going over rocks and through rivers, showing off how powerful it was, even though we all knew that about four of the people that had those cars actually went to places that were that hard-core. The jeep was a dark green, just a shade away from being navy blue. The car had never been there before, she knew because she had every car and the position it was in memorized. The jeep was new. It didn’t belong there, and she had to go check it out, check out this imposter car that had no place in her neighborhood.
Alice looked around again, dropped her keys back into her duffle, and stalked up to the car. It was a nice car, nicer than she’s seen in a very, very long time. Only a few dents, not too many scratches, and no chipping paint. Very nice for the things it’s probably seen. She tried the door. Shockingly it gave way, opening up and letting the smell of a new car flow out around her. It smelled nice, and she wasn’t used to it; in fact, she missed that smell. She swung her head, left, right: surroundings were clear. She leaned into the car and reached down to the glove compartment. It opened and not much was in there; a few papers, a map, and… a pearl-handled pistol. It was a nice gun, and Alice was just reaching for it when she heard the other boots behind her. The familiar sound of a double barreled shotgun being cocked rung out too close for comfort. She froze. Crap, I’m going to die she thought to herself. This persons going to shoot me, and I’m going to die, a dead heap on the floor, and Alex and Jeremy are going to think I abandoned them. Crap. She went for the gun, only inches from her fingertips when a voice interrupted the silence.
“Uh-uh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, unless, of course, you’d like a buckshot to the back?” the voice asked. It was a man. He didn’t sound too young, or small, and he wasn’t old, but the smart-ass and sarcasm ran thick in his voice. She slowly slid her hand out of the glove compartment and raised her hands above her head in surrender.
“Look man,” she started, “I don’t want any trouble, and I definitely don’t want to be shot, so I’m going to turn around really slow. I just don’t wanna die looking at the leather of this car, ‘kay?” she began to turn slowly, not daring to move anything but her legs. As she turned full circle, she came face-to-face with the double barrels of the man’s shotgun. She pulled back instinctively, but slowed, not wanting buckshot to the face. Looking over the barrel she could just make out the upper region of the man’s face, emerald eyes squinted in concentration, brow furrowed. “I’m not gonna do anything, mind pulling back the barrels? They’re making me uncomfortable, and I’m obviously not a Croat,” Alice stated, and the man relaxed a little, lowering the gun, but not completely letting it go, in case of emergency.
“What are you doing here?” the man asked gruffly. Looks like there’s going to be no small talk, just straight to the info.
“I’ve lived in this neighborhood all of my life, I still do. I was on a supply run to one of my stores,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Your turn.” She smirked.
“I was just passing through, trying to see if QC had taken this town too," the man looked around. "I guess not.” Alice had no idea what QC was but she wasn’t pressing. At least he answered. Straight talk and that was good. It meant he wasn’t going to try to bull-crap his way through the town, trying to kill Alice and take the little goods she had. “So when I saw someone near my car, I automatically thought the Croats were trying to ransack me for some type of weapon. When I saw it was a you, I knew for a fact that you were trying to ransack me.” He quirked his eyebrow, silently scolding her for snooping through his belongings.
“Hey,” she protested, “I’ve been living here for years and when I see something new I've gotta check it out. I didn’t know what could have been lying in wait in that jeep. I wasn’t about to be snuck up on!” She crossed her arms in anger. Who was this guy telling her that she was trespassing? It was her neighborhood!
Then something happened that she didn’t see too often. The man smiled. The man actually smiled! It didn’t last long, and it wasn’t the biggest smile, but he smiled, and then he asked “So, your store?”
Alice grabbed the keys out of her duffle again, flipped to the correct one, jammed it in the keyhole, jostled the lock, and opened the doors. The lights were off, but it was far enough in the day that sunlight poured through the industrial windows of the store. She walked to the edge of the many rows of non-perishable foods, and picked the isle filled with soap. Supplies ran slightly low, but it was okay, because she had many stores in the town to choose from, not to mention the back of the store, which she was sure was stocked with extra soap and other goods. She picked up hand soap and jammed it into her bag. She also picked up two Reese’s candy bars off the shelf. They were both hers and Jeremy’s favorite candy. She grabbed a sucker for Alex.
“Candy? Really?” the man asked from behind her. She glared at him and ignored the comment, walking down a new isle. She grabbed some crackers off the shelf, and looked at the man behind her. “What?” he asked sharply.
“I was just wondering… if you could maybe, I dunno, give me a ride back to my place. I haven’t had soda in a while, and it gets heavy to carry all the way back. I’ll let you have some stuff from the store, anything, just pick something, it’s yours,” she scanned her arm around her in a circle, showing him all the things that could be his. She looked at the man pleadingly, and saw him start to give way.
“Yeah, alright, only if I can have some fruit snacks,” he said jokingly. Alice chuckled and nodded.
“Like I said, all yours,” she turned her back and returned to scanning the walls for anything else she could shove in her duffle. She ended up grabbing more soap, some toothpaste, a coloring book, some pencils and a few boxes of the little cereal left. The man grabbed fruit snacks, a power bar, and motor oil. He smiled as he bit into the bar and walked out the double doors of the store. Alice followed him and returned the chain and lock to their rightful place.
“So my home is just down the street,” she pointed west, “about a mile and a half. The roads are pretty clogged with debris so we might have to detour.” Alice said as she walked over to the man’s car. He nodded and got into the front seat as Alice slid into the passenger side. They shut the doors simultaneously, and the man started the car. He reversed and cut through the parking lot, avoiding the four-car pile-up.
“So, uh, kid. How’d you find yourself still here? Why not move on? And another thing; how’d you survive all of this?” the man showered her with questions.
“The neighborhood is uninhabited during the weekend, and most of the week, but there’s a school around here, and it’s open during the week, so people come around. It’s a nice way to pass a week, and it’s all basically training to survive in this day and age. Latin practice, fitness classes, gun training, the works. It’s not bad actually. It helps a lot of kids who’ve lost a lot,” she pauses and sighs, looking out the window as the car creeps past more wreckages and broken down homes. “The school used to be a refuge for children whose parents had died,” she continued. “S’insane how a place kids say they hate to go is the first place they head to when they’re seeking shelter. So the community rebuilt itself, and the oldest teacher just turned twenty-seven last week. Once school is over, we all run back to the places we came from. No one has friends and no one really talks to anyone unless they’re siblings. We don’t want to have to watch more friends die, so we don’t get close to anybody. It’s like walking around in a ghost town when you can see all of the ghosts.”
“Really? So after all of this, you still go to school? No parents to tell you to get up, or to go?” The man peeled his eyes away from the road for a second to look at Alice, who was still staring out the window.
“Nope. No parents, no rules. But we set guidelines for ourselves, so we don’t have to remember that the world has turned to total anarchy,” she said, not taking her eyes from the window.
“Hmm… I know what you mean. So where do I turn?
“What?” Alice looked away from the window and up at the man driving.
“To get to your house, where do I turn?” he asked glancing at her again.
“Oh, right, sorry. Turn not this right, but the next one, then make another right and stop at the car blockade,” she answered, now sitting upright and looking out the front windshield.
He nodded and kept on driving. He made the few turns and slowed to a gentle stop at the car blockade that interrupted what was left of the road.
“Hey thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it. You made it much easier to transport these goods back home,” she said as she got out of the car and grabbed her duffle and shotgun off the floor of the car. She was about to close the door when she looked back up at the man and asked, “Hey, when’s the last time you had a home cooked meal?” He looked at her and shrugged.
“I don’t know, probably in 2011, why do you ask?”
“Wanna stay for dinner? I have enough food to cook for one more,” she smiled at him to show she was serious and tilted her head. He cracked and she saw.
“Look, I don’t wanna intrude-“
“It’s no problem, really. I could use the new company,” Alice smiled and closed the door, waving for the man to follow. The man took the keys out of the ignition and left the car where it was. It’s not like he had to worry about cops ticketing him.
As he walked up the sidewalk, Alice’s use of the words new company rolled around in his head.
He followed her up the pathway, and pushed passed a bent, old chain-linked fence. The place sagged under its own weight, and the baby blue paint was peeling off the front. Alice disappeared up the stairs and the man followed. He didn’t know why he trusted the kid so much, but there was something in those deep brown eyes that said she wasn’t lying, and he hadn’t had a meal that wasn’t crap-tasctic in a long time, so he was willing to take the chances.
Alice was already working on the lock by the time the man had reached the door with her, and she opened the door, calling out “It’s me, don’t shoot.” The man furrowed his brow in confusion, but didn’t ask. Alice stepped into the house, and the man followed. As he closed the door behind him, he couldn’t help noticing the five dead-bolts that lined the door. He smiled to himself- good protection.
“Alice, you’re home!” Alex called. It caught the man off guard and he swung around, looking for the source of the voice. Alice smiled and swept Alex up into her arms and planted a firm kiss to the top of her head.
“Why yes, I am home, little one,” Alice replied with a smile.
“Who’s that?” Jeremy asked. He was seated in a chair at the kitchen table, twisting to get a better look at the strange man standing in his doorway. Alice looked at Jeremy and back to the man.
“This is, uhh…” she looked at the man, and shrugged, realizing that they had never introduced themselves.
“Dean, my name's Dean,” he answered, flashing a smile at Jeremy.
“That’s Dean, I ran into him while on the way to one of the stores. He drove me here and is having dinner with us tonight,” she turned to Dean, “You can stay the night if you want, too, there’s an extra bed in one of the rooms. Feel free to shower in the morning and then ya’know, Return to your search for QC or whatever,” she turned back to the kid she was holding in her arm and asked, “So who’s up for dinner, I was thinking pasta since we have our first guest?” the girl, Alex, in Alice’s arms squealed and smiled, burying her face in the crook of Alice's neck. Alice laughed and set her down on the carpet, moving into the kitchen.
Dean looked around the house, and nodded awkwardly. It had been years since he’d been a guest in anyone’s home, even before the world decided to topple off its axis and end. Alice noticed the awkward stance he was taking and nodded towards the couch.
“Feel free to sit and watch a DVD. Power’s on ‘til nine,” Alice called from the kitchen, taking a box of pasta down from one of the upper cabinets. Dean half-heartedly smiled and turned to the shelf and scanned his eyes over the DVD’s that were resting there.
“Alright,” he shouted, snatching ‘Terminator 3: Judgment Day’ off of the shelf and flipping it over in his hands so he could read the back cover. “I haven’t seen this movie in years, haven’t seen a copy around for a long time too, where did you get this?” He turned and looked at Alice from the place he stood in the living room and shifted excitedly on his feet, looking like a child that had just got a new toy.
“Uh, my dad really likes- liked the movies. We have one and two, also,” she said as she nodded her towards the shelf. Dean smiled again and pushed the “open” button on the DVD player, and swapped Where the Wild Things are for Terminator. He plopped back on the couch and slung his arms around the back of it, and let his legs relax. He watched the movie with such intensity you would think the cure to the Croatoan virus was secretly hidden in it.
“Dinner is served,” Alice shouted from the kitchen, where a big pot of noodles steamed. It was five thirty-seven, and Dean had almost forgotten that that’s when families used to have dinner. Alice turned to dean and smiled. “I hope you like spaghetti,” is all she said before Alex and Jeremy walked into the kitchen and started to make their plates. Dean rose from his seat on the couch and walked to the entrance of the kitchen, getting a good look at how this abnormal family functioned.
Alex was served first, the smallest portion, and she scooted to the kitchen table, placing her plate on the edge and opening the fridge, squealing when she spotted the new bottle of generic-brand cola. She raised it over her head and then set it on the table next to her plate and swiped a hand on top if the counter, making contact with a cup and carrying it over to the table. She called Alice over, and Alice happily poured the soda for her, handing her the cup when she was done.
Jeremy served himself, a pretty goods-sized heap landing and steaming on his plate. He licked his lips and picked up a fork, not bothering to wait for anyone else before he dug in. He sat on the couch and looked up at the movie playing, shrugged his shoulders in a careless way and turned back to his dinner, which he wouldn’t let get cold. Alex sat down next to him and carefully placed her drink in a shoe that sat near the sofa, using it so the cup wouldn’t topple. The child’s feet didn’t even touch the ground when she sat on the couch, she was so small.
As the two others ate, Alice finally began to prepare her own plate, plopping a modest serving on her plate, picking up a cup of her own soda as she made her way into the living room, walking past Dean, telling him, “Eat up before it gets all cold and gross.” She pulled out the chair that was tucked under the desk next to the television, and sat, placing the plate on her lap and stabbing her fork at the red noodles that lay in a knotted pile on her plate.
Dean moved into the kitchen, his hiking boots that he hadn’t bothered to take off tapping slightly on the linoleum floor. As he approached the stove, he could smell the spaghetti, and man did it smell good. He leaned in and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose and letting it flood with the smell of canned tomato sauce. He pulled back, smiled, grabbed a plate off of the counter, and filled it two steaming heaps of spaghetti. It had been years since he’d actually had a home cooked meal, and the suspense was killing him. He didn’t even bother to sit down before he moved his first forkful of spaghetti to his mouth. The flavor spread over his tongue quickly, and the spices were so diverse he wondered where they had been his entire life. He groaned in the moment, and looked up, realizing the sound really had escaped his mouth. Alice happily looked at him, a grin slowly spreading on her lips.
“This pasta is awesome!” he exclaimed around a mouthful of noodles.
“Ha-ha, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Now, come sit,” she gestured towards the lounge chair that was crammed into the corner of the living room between two bookshelves and the couch. Dean walked out of kitchen, hitting the light as he went, and walked over to the chair. He pulled it forward and sat, twisting his fork in the pasta as he did. Jeremy had restarted Terminator, and they continued to watch it long after dinner was over, commenting on how John Conner was bold to go with the futuristic robot that would later be sent to kill him.
Once Terminator was over, and the dishes had been put away, Dean stood from his seat, and walked over to his keys that hung next to the doors.
“Well, uh, thanks for the dinner, Alice, but I should really be going before it gets too dark,” he said as he reached for the locks.
“Wait, you’re going already?” she asked, frowning slightly at the sound of her own voice. A tinge of desperation floated in the air and Dean lowered his hand from where it had rested on the top lock. He raised an eyebrow at her in question. “I just mean,” she started again, “you’ve only been here for, like, an hour, and…” she paused. “To be honest, it looks like you could use a shower.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot and looked at Dean, raising her own eyebrows to ask if she was right.
And she was right. It had been months since Dean had stood in an actual indoor shower, and used proper soap to get the dirt and grime out of his hair and off of his skin. Dean thought for a moment, and in his gut, he knew that he didn’t want to pass up the chance to have a real, warm, running water shower. He also didn’t want to seem like he didn’t have a place to be, because he did. Then again, he kind of didn’t. His situation was kind of a complicated one, and he didn’t know where he stood. Out of the haze of thought, he saw Alice’s mouth move, but didn’t hear any sound.
“What?” he asked, shaking himself out of the daze. She looked at him with a questioning face and repeated her statement.
“I said we also have another bed that you could rest in,” she offered. “It’s a queen, and no one’s slept in it, so it’s clean. Stay for a while Dean, we like having the company.” Her eyes were honest, and something in his heart pulled. Here were three kids that had somehow beaten the apocalypse and survived the Croatoan virus. Now they were asking him to stay, and the idea didn’t sound like too bad of one. Alice had hundreds of stores locked down and at her disposal, there was running water and electricity, endless weapons, and the kid knew how to cook some great spaghetti.
“I guess I could stay for a little while,” Dean said. Alice smiled and nodded.
“Here,” she said, “Let me show you the room.” She turned on her heels and walked straight down the hall, turned right, and pushed open the door. It led to a room that wasn’t big, but wasn’t small. A queen-sized bed took up most of the space in the room, and a computer on a small desk sat in the far right corner. There was a good-sized dresser next to it, and the room had a homey atmosphere to it, like someone had really tried to set this room up nicely.
“Wow,” Dean stated, looking around as he walked up behind Alex. She stood off to the side and let Dean walk into the room. He nodded his head in approval and looked back to Alex who was looking down at her hands, picking at her nails. “Wow,” Dean said again. Alex looked up and nodded.
“You like it?” she asked.
“Like it? It’s been a few months since I’ve been in a house that wasn’t crawling with Croats. And this room,” he swept his arm around, “is actually nice, like someone put time into decorating it and stuff.” Dean jammed his hands into the jacket he was wearing and looked around the room again, sighing in satisfaction.
“Well,” Alice said, turning to leave Dean to his new room, “you’re welcome to stay for as long as you’d like. The towels for the shower are in the closet in the bathroom.” Alice turned and left Dean alone in his room, and for the first time in a long time, he felt safe and welcome.
Part Three
Disclaimer: supernatural and its characters belong to eric kripke and the cw
Parts: One
CROATOAN
Alice woke groggily. It was Saturday, which meant no school for the weekend and the next week (thank you spring break), but a lot of Latin translations and exorcism study, even though the demons bailed Earth long ago. She scrubbed her hands over her face and looked to the left.
A bed sat parallel to hers, not two feet away. Curled under the crumpled and less-than-clean sheets was a small body. Looking straight again, she examined the bed that ran the just a few feet short of the length of the wall opposite her. A body slightly larger than the one next to her was contently snoozing, chest slowly rising and falling in the silent slumber of 5 a.m.
Alice swung her legs out from under the sheets of her own bed, and her feet hit the carpet with a soft thump. She stood and maneuvered her way through the mess of clothes on the floor; swaying slightly to avoid the three corners of the too-close beds that made up almost all of the furniture in the room, save for two dressers, one between the parallel beds, the other just fitting in the closet. She exited the room, closed the door slowly, and cringed as the lock made a small click noise. Alice turned her head, peeking into the open room across the hallway, despite the empty sounds of the house. Just because no one else occupied the small, two-bedroom apartment didn’t mean nothing else was in the house with them.
Her feet made small, padded noises as she quietly shuffled across the carpet, plopping down onto a worn leather loveseat. The couch was old, and not exactly comfortable, but she was content.
“Alice?” a small voice called out. Just beyond the shadows of the hallway stood a small figure, a girl who could be no older than three and a half. She swayed slightly, still in a hazy state from just waking up. The collar of the oversized shirt she was wearing had slipped down her shoulder, exposing pale skin. The little girl rubbed her eyes with fisted hands, and twisted her mouth in concentration.
“Alex,” Alice spoke, “why are you up right now? You should be asleep, it’s too early.” Alice stood from her spot on the couch and walked over to Alex, squatting to her level, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“I couldn’t sleep, and I saw you get up…” she trailed off with a yawn, and leaned into the hand on her shoulder. Alice pulled her in and held her close, the young child placing her head where Alice’s neck met shoulder and breathed quietly. Alice smiled and rubbed her hand down Alex’s small back. She cupped Alex’s head and attempted, with avail, to smooth down the blonde hair that was still sticking up from sleep.
“Alright,” she said, pulling back from the hug, “want some breakfast? I know it’s early, but are you hungry?” Alex nodded her head and rubbed her eyes again. “Okay kiddo. Go wake up Jeremy, and remember, be nice.” She nodded and padded down the short hallway, back to her room, where Alice could hear the quiet whispers of Get up Jer’my. Alice is gonna make breakfast! Alice’s lips turned up in a quick smile as she stood and walked into the kitchen.
She opened the nearly empty refrigerator and pulled out two small eggs, the last that she’d probably ever see. She went to the light switch and tried it. Nothing happened. Great, she thought, power’s not on ‘til nine… she went out to the balcony (being on the second floor had its perks) and walked up to the coal grill. She threw some news paper into the pit and doused it with lighter fluid. Ducking under the grill revealed a box of matches. She grabbed three between her fingers and lit them, throwing them into the pile of paper. It was one of Alice’s favorite things to watch a fire catch, tiny blue flames lighting before the orange-red ones push their way through. The heat was barley there, and she got three coals to light before the flame completely died, and that should suffice.
Alice went back inside, grabbing an old pan out of the cabinet. She leaned out the door and placed it over the flames and while waiting for the pan to heat up, she looked over the balcony into the neighbor’s yard, or what was left of it.
The yard itself was still there, but the fence that used to line it was half torn down. The other half was made up of broken planks and rotted wood. The ground was littered with things from old bike parts to pieces of roof from three apartments down. The place felt as empty as it looked, and the family that lived there had fled months before. That apartment was now an extreme emergency panic room, along with the carport that is attached to this, and other apartment buildings. From where she stood, she could see her school. It stood only twenty yards from where the neighbor’s yard stood, and the entire perimeter of the school was surrounded by a think-barred, black fence that locked during the school days and opened as the final bell rang.
Alice almost forgot about the eggs she wanted to cook, and turned back to go inside again to grab the two orbs that sat on the kitchen’s counter. She rolled them in her hands before setting one down on the edge of the grill and cracking the other on the rim of the pan, dropping the contents in the pan with a thin sizzle. She stuck a fork into the middle of the yellow yolk, breaking it and watching it spread over the deepening white. She mixed them, pushed them to the edge of the pan, and broke the other egg into the pan. Once the eggs were done she separated the scrambled mass into three even parts, placed them on three separate plates and walked into the living room. Two sets of eyes fell on her and mouths thinned into almost-smiles as she set the plates into laps and handed over two forks.
Four hours passed smoothly and boringly, light finally beginning to pool into the house as the sun rose past the mountains. It might have been her imagination or it might have been real, but the sun seemed to rise later now that the world was in a post-apocalyptic state.
Out of nowhere, a light flickered on, shining a dim light on the unoccupied kitchen, marking Nine o’clock a.m. exactly. Alex squealed and set down the “Curious George” book she was reading and began to jump up and down. She did this every morning, with the exception of a possible book swap.
“Alice, Alice, the lights are back on! Can we watch a DVD now?” the anticipation in her voice was growing thicker and thicker with each words she spoke. Jeremy looked up at Alice from the spot on the floor he occupied and his hazel eyes caught the light in a way that made his eyes flare. For a kid that was only eleven, he gave off some serious emotion without saying a word. Alice smiled and nodded her head. Alex took off towards the shelf that had all the DVD’s stacked on it and started fingering her way through the cases, pulling “Where the Wild Things are” off the shelf. The content, even being a children’s movie, was a little heavy for a three year old, but Alex couldn’t tell the difference. She plopped down on her knees and pressed a few buttons on the DVD player and in a few minutes, Max the Wolf King appeared on the screen, yelling at the Wild Things to “be still”. The movie was played twice, and each time, Alex mouthed the words throughout the entire thing.
While cries of the wild rang on in the background, Alice sat on her bed and worked on translating the Latin that sat in front of her.
“Exorcizamus te, we exorcise you, omnis immundus spiritus, every impure spirit, omnis satanic potestas, ever satanic power, omnis incursion infernalis adversarii, every incursion of the infernal adver-“ her work was interrupted with the shout of her name. “Yes?” she responded. It was Alex who had called her.
“Alice, we’re out of soap for our hands!” Alex cried. Six years ago this would have been no problem, but with the virus that was floating around now-a-days, it was crucial. Alice closed her journal and left her bed. She walked into the bathroom where Alex stood on her little stepping stool, water from her hands dripping onto the floor, mouth hanging slightly open, eyes wide and staring at the empty soap dispenser next to the sink.
“Dammit,” Alice breathed as she picked up the empty container. She set it back down and bent over to check the bathroom drawers. She found what she was looking for; two tiny lumps of soap, one carved into a heart, the other into a small duck. She placed the heart in Alex’s hands and kissed her in her still sleep mussed hair. “Don’t use too much, save some for Jeremy too.” Alex nodded her head and continued to wash her hands.
Alice walked back to her room, looked under her bed, and pulled out a pair of broken-in, thick-soled leather boots. She sat on the edge of her bed and tugged on first the left, then the right boot and wiggled her toes inside. It had been a few months since she had worn them, and they felt foreign on her feet. She leaned down and slid open her bottom drawer, pulling out a thick button up flannel shirt and a light tan leather jacket; two articles of clothing she saved for supply runs.
She walked to the front room and grabbed the pump-action shot gun that was always leaning on the edge of the wall that opened up to be the living room.
As she put her hand the gun, Jeremy and Alex (who had returned to the living room to watch her movie for the fourth time that day) looked up at her, worry shifting in both sets of eyes. Alice tried to smile, but it came out more like cringe.
“We’re out of soap and running kind of low on food, so I’m going on a supply run. I’ll be back within two hours. Lock the doors and do not, under any circumstances, open it for anyone. I will have my key and will knock three times before going for the locks, okay?” Alex nodded, she knew at her young age that there was nothing she could do, but Jeremy wouldn’t give in that easy. He stood and turned to Alice, worry swimming through his eyes.
“You can’t go out there. Who knows what could happen to you all alone like that?” Jeremy protested.
“Jeremy. You know that I’ve been out on my own before. I can handle this; it’s what I’ve done for a few years now. I’ll be fine. It’s alright,” Alice tried to reassure him, but there was nothing she could do. Jeremy was strong and unwavering. Alice peeked at Alex who had turned from her movie and was now watching intently.
“No,” Jeremy said, stepping in front of Alice, blocking her view of Alex. “No, I’m not going to let you just go out there by yourself and throw yourself to those monsters!” Jeremy was nearly shouting now, water rising slowly in his eyes. He blinked before they could fully surface.
“Jeremy, stop it!” Alice yelled back, “you know I have to do this alone. We need food, and I know you could hold your own out there, but I need to go before the sun goes down, and Alex is too small to bring with us, so I’m going, and you’re staying here, understand me?” Alice stared at Jeremy, and the younger boy stood down. He sat next to Alex and ran his fingers through her hair, flattening it down as much as possible without a comb. Alice picked up the shotgun, and walked into the kitchen.
Food wasn’t the only that the kitchen harbored. It was also home to hidden guns, knives not made for cutting steaks, and most importantly, and unending haven of ammunition. Alice went to a drawer and pulled out a small box of shotgun shells. Without thinking, she jammed the entire box into her duffle bag and walked out of the kitchen, turning off the light as she went.
She turned around to look at the two children sitting in her living room before she grabbed her keys and turned on her heels to walk out of the house, locking the door behind her.
Standing in the unlit cement stairwell had never been her favorite thing to do, even before all the Croats started to run amuck on the planet that could barley be recognized as earth today. She took the stairs at a fast pace, and the light slightly burned her eyes as she breached the mouth of the stairwell. She dug in her bag and pulled out classic Ray Ban sunglasses and slipped them on. It helped, and she didn’t have to squint anymore; no impaired vision. Looking around the barren wasteland was never very fun. There were about six over-turned cars, four buildings per block that had crumbled into the streets, and other bits of furniture, roofs, and clothing were strewn across the ground. Alice could walk maybe five steps before she would have to step over something new. She once even had to climb over a barricade made by several cars, a bike and even a broken shopping cart.
Walking down the street was dangerous for a few reasons. One reason was the cannibalistic post-humans that ran around, trying to attack you, kill you, and eat you. If you escaped death, you were lucky, but there’s more than just a possibility that you were scratched or even bitten, which meant that because you couldn’t beat them; you were now forced to join them. Within six hours, you would start to get very hungry, then you’ll begin to lose sense of what’s going on around you, and soon enough, you’re wandering around, trying to find any living thing to snack on. Alice was glad that she didn’t have to worry about becoming one, but becoming one of their meals was still a very real possibility and she didn’t want that to happen either.
She crossed the cracked asphalt that used to be street, and walked into the brush. They’re may not have been any Croats in sight, but they had no problem sneaking up on you, and the less visible you were, the better. Alice wasn’t the last person on earth, but she was the last person that lived in that entire neighborhood, the last person within a three mile radius, actually, and she wasn’t anticipating any other visitors. She owned this entire neighbor hood; had locked all the important stores with her own personal locks, raided almost every house that was within a running’s distance, stashed food and other supplies there, and even, when she was feeling especially daring, would take a walk around the park that was long ago abandoned.
After about a mile long walk, Alice approached her favorite store, a generic all-around store that she now remembered was call a… Walgreens? Something like that. The lights of the surrounding stores still buzzed lightly, and it gave off an awkward feeling, like other people should be around, ordering food and stuffing their faces, but no one was, no one was eating, no one else but herself was even alive around here. It was silent save for the crunching of Alice’s boots on the sidewalk. It made her feel small and alone; and she was.
Alice walked through the shadows, shotgun ready in her hands, already cocked and loaded, duffle bag around her back. She quickly poked her head out of the bushes she was walking in, and darted across the street, ducking behind a four-car pile-up that had been there for three years. She could still remember how the Croats attacked from all sides in a mass swarm, and ripped the people from the cars, leaving a bloody mess that not even the powerful rains of the Apocalypse could wash away. Alice had been hiding in the bushes as it happened, and she made a point of keeping extremely quiet and still, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to herself.
She rushed away, looking back for only a second at the dark stain in the asphalt. The intersection of this street was cluttered with store windows and doors, glass from hundreds of different cars that have crashed here, and other things that are now unidentifiable with age and deterioration. She stepped over a car door and ran to the edge of a building, pressing flat against it. She caught her breath before she moved on again, head turning instinctively from left to right. Just a few steps until she was at the front of the store, and she stretched her strides so that she would get to the doors quicker and she would be out of the open.
She knew something was off, something that she couldn’t quite determine at the time. It was like looking at your shelf and noticing something new was there and not being able to tell what it was, even though it was right in front of your face. Alice reached into her pocket and pulled out her ring of keys, one for each store she now owned. She found the key that opened her store, and she was just about to open the doors when she saw what had been off. It was a jeep, the ones that used to be on the commercials, going over rocks and through rivers, showing off how powerful it was, even though we all knew that about four of the people that had those cars actually went to places that were that hard-core. The jeep was a dark green, just a shade away from being navy blue. The car had never been there before, she knew because she had every car and the position it was in memorized. The jeep was new. It didn’t belong there, and she had to go check it out, check out this imposter car that had no place in her neighborhood.
Alice looked around again, dropped her keys back into her duffle, and stalked up to the car. It was a nice car, nicer than she’s seen in a very, very long time. Only a few dents, not too many scratches, and no chipping paint. Very nice for the things it’s probably seen. She tried the door. Shockingly it gave way, opening up and letting the smell of a new car flow out around her. It smelled nice, and she wasn’t used to it; in fact, she missed that smell. She swung her head, left, right: surroundings were clear. She leaned into the car and reached down to the glove compartment. It opened and not much was in there; a few papers, a map, and… a pearl-handled pistol. It was a nice gun, and Alice was just reaching for it when she heard the other boots behind her. The familiar sound of a double barreled shotgun being cocked rung out too close for comfort. She froze. Crap, I’m going to die she thought to herself. This persons going to shoot me, and I’m going to die, a dead heap on the floor, and Alex and Jeremy are going to think I abandoned them. Crap. She went for the gun, only inches from her fingertips when a voice interrupted the silence.
“Uh-uh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, unless, of course, you’d like a buckshot to the back?” the voice asked. It was a man. He didn’t sound too young, or small, and he wasn’t old, but the smart-ass and sarcasm ran thick in his voice. She slowly slid her hand out of the glove compartment and raised her hands above her head in surrender.
“Look man,” she started, “I don’t want any trouble, and I definitely don’t want to be shot, so I’m going to turn around really slow. I just don’t wanna die looking at the leather of this car, ‘kay?” she began to turn slowly, not daring to move anything but her legs. As she turned full circle, she came face-to-face with the double barrels of the man’s shotgun. She pulled back instinctively, but slowed, not wanting buckshot to the face. Looking over the barrel she could just make out the upper region of the man’s face, emerald eyes squinted in concentration, brow furrowed. “I’m not gonna do anything, mind pulling back the barrels? They’re making me uncomfortable, and I’m obviously not a Croat,” Alice stated, and the man relaxed a little, lowering the gun, but not completely letting it go, in case of emergency.
“What are you doing here?” the man asked gruffly. Looks like there’s going to be no small talk, just straight to the info.
“I’ve lived in this neighborhood all of my life, I still do. I was on a supply run to one of my stores,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Your turn.” She smirked.
“I was just passing through, trying to see if QC had taken this town too," the man looked around. "I guess not.” Alice had no idea what QC was but she wasn’t pressing. At least he answered. Straight talk and that was good. It meant he wasn’t going to try to bull-crap his way through the town, trying to kill Alice and take the little goods she had. “So when I saw someone near my car, I automatically thought the Croats were trying to ransack me for some type of weapon. When I saw it was a you, I knew for a fact that you were trying to ransack me.” He quirked his eyebrow, silently scolding her for snooping through his belongings.
“Hey,” she protested, “I’ve been living here for years and when I see something new I've gotta check it out. I didn’t know what could have been lying in wait in that jeep. I wasn’t about to be snuck up on!” She crossed her arms in anger. Who was this guy telling her that she was trespassing? It was her neighborhood!
Then something happened that she didn’t see too often. The man smiled. The man actually smiled! It didn’t last long, and it wasn’t the biggest smile, but he smiled, and then he asked “So, your store?”
Alice grabbed the keys out of her duffle again, flipped to the correct one, jammed it in the keyhole, jostled the lock, and opened the doors. The lights were off, but it was far enough in the day that sunlight poured through the industrial windows of the store. She walked to the edge of the many rows of non-perishable foods, and picked the isle filled with soap. Supplies ran slightly low, but it was okay, because she had many stores in the town to choose from, not to mention the back of the store, which she was sure was stocked with extra soap and other goods. She picked up hand soap and jammed it into her bag. She also picked up two Reese’s candy bars off the shelf. They were both hers and Jeremy’s favorite candy. She grabbed a sucker for Alex.
“Candy? Really?” the man asked from behind her. She glared at him and ignored the comment, walking down a new isle. She grabbed some crackers off the shelf, and looked at the man behind her. “What?” he asked sharply.
“I was just wondering… if you could maybe, I dunno, give me a ride back to my place. I haven’t had soda in a while, and it gets heavy to carry all the way back. I’ll let you have some stuff from the store, anything, just pick something, it’s yours,” she scanned her arm around her in a circle, showing him all the things that could be his. She looked at the man pleadingly, and saw him start to give way.
“Yeah, alright, only if I can have some fruit snacks,” he said jokingly. Alice chuckled and nodded.
“Like I said, all yours,” she turned her back and returned to scanning the walls for anything else she could shove in her duffle. She ended up grabbing more soap, some toothpaste, a coloring book, some pencils and a few boxes of the little cereal left. The man grabbed fruit snacks, a power bar, and motor oil. He smiled as he bit into the bar and walked out the double doors of the store. Alice followed him and returned the chain and lock to their rightful place.
“So my home is just down the street,” she pointed west, “about a mile and a half. The roads are pretty clogged with debris so we might have to detour.” Alice said as she walked over to the man’s car. He nodded and got into the front seat as Alice slid into the passenger side. They shut the doors simultaneously, and the man started the car. He reversed and cut through the parking lot, avoiding the four-car pile-up.
“So, uh, kid. How’d you find yourself still here? Why not move on? And another thing; how’d you survive all of this?” the man showered her with questions.
“The neighborhood is uninhabited during the weekend, and most of the week, but there’s a school around here, and it’s open during the week, so people come around. It’s a nice way to pass a week, and it’s all basically training to survive in this day and age. Latin practice, fitness classes, gun training, the works. It’s not bad actually. It helps a lot of kids who’ve lost a lot,” she pauses and sighs, looking out the window as the car creeps past more wreckages and broken down homes. “The school used to be a refuge for children whose parents had died,” she continued. “S’insane how a place kids say they hate to go is the first place they head to when they’re seeking shelter. So the community rebuilt itself, and the oldest teacher just turned twenty-seven last week. Once school is over, we all run back to the places we came from. No one has friends and no one really talks to anyone unless they’re siblings. We don’t want to have to watch more friends die, so we don’t get close to anybody. It’s like walking around in a ghost town when you can see all of the ghosts.”
“Really? So after all of this, you still go to school? No parents to tell you to get up, or to go?” The man peeled his eyes away from the road for a second to look at Alice, who was still staring out the window.
“Nope. No parents, no rules. But we set guidelines for ourselves, so we don’t have to remember that the world has turned to total anarchy,” she said, not taking her eyes from the window.
“Hmm… I know what you mean. So where do I turn?
“What?” Alice looked away from the window and up at the man driving.
“To get to your house, where do I turn?” he asked glancing at her again.
“Oh, right, sorry. Turn not this right, but the next one, then make another right and stop at the car blockade,” she answered, now sitting upright and looking out the front windshield.
He nodded and kept on driving. He made the few turns and slowed to a gentle stop at the car blockade that interrupted what was left of the road.
“Hey thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it. You made it much easier to transport these goods back home,” she said as she got out of the car and grabbed her duffle and shotgun off the floor of the car. She was about to close the door when she looked back up at the man and asked, “Hey, when’s the last time you had a home cooked meal?” He looked at her and shrugged.
“I don’t know, probably in 2011, why do you ask?”
“Wanna stay for dinner? I have enough food to cook for one more,” she smiled at him to show she was serious and tilted her head. He cracked and she saw.
“Look, I don’t wanna intrude-“
“It’s no problem, really. I could use the new company,” Alice smiled and closed the door, waving for the man to follow. The man took the keys out of the ignition and left the car where it was. It’s not like he had to worry about cops ticketing him.
As he walked up the sidewalk, Alice’s use of the words new company rolled around in his head.
He followed her up the pathway, and pushed passed a bent, old chain-linked fence. The place sagged under its own weight, and the baby blue paint was peeling off the front. Alice disappeared up the stairs and the man followed. He didn’t know why he trusted the kid so much, but there was something in those deep brown eyes that said she wasn’t lying, and he hadn’t had a meal that wasn’t crap-tasctic in a long time, so he was willing to take the chances.
Alice was already working on the lock by the time the man had reached the door with her, and she opened the door, calling out “It’s me, don’t shoot.” The man furrowed his brow in confusion, but didn’t ask. Alice stepped into the house, and the man followed. As he closed the door behind him, he couldn’t help noticing the five dead-bolts that lined the door. He smiled to himself- good protection.
“Alice, you’re home!” Alex called. It caught the man off guard and he swung around, looking for the source of the voice. Alice smiled and swept Alex up into her arms and planted a firm kiss to the top of her head.
“Why yes, I am home, little one,” Alice replied with a smile.
“Who’s that?” Jeremy asked. He was seated in a chair at the kitchen table, twisting to get a better look at the strange man standing in his doorway. Alice looked at Jeremy and back to the man.
“This is, uhh…” she looked at the man, and shrugged, realizing that they had never introduced themselves.
“Dean, my name's Dean,” he answered, flashing a smile at Jeremy.
“That’s Dean, I ran into him while on the way to one of the stores. He drove me here and is having dinner with us tonight,” she turned to Dean, “You can stay the night if you want, too, there’s an extra bed in one of the rooms. Feel free to shower in the morning and then ya’know, Return to your search for QC or whatever,” she turned back to the kid she was holding in her arm and asked, “So who’s up for dinner, I was thinking pasta since we have our first guest?” the girl, Alex, in Alice’s arms squealed and smiled, burying her face in the crook of Alice's neck. Alice laughed and set her down on the carpet, moving into the kitchen.
Dean looked around the house, and nodded awkwardly. It had been years since he’d been a guest in anyone’s home, even before the world decided to topple off its axis and end. Alice noticed the awkward stance he was taking and nodded towards the couch.
“Feel free to sit and watch a DVD. Power’s on ‘til nine,” Alice called from the kitchen, taking a box of pasta down from one of the upper cabinets. Dean half-heartedly smiled and turned to the shelf and scanned his eyes over the DVD’s that were resting there.
“Alright,” he shouted, snatching ‘Terminator 3: Judgment Day’ off of the shelf and flipping it over in his hands so he could read the back cover. “I haven’t seen this movie in years, haven’t seen a copy around for a long time too, where did you get this?” He turned and looked at Alice from the place he stood in the living room and shifted excitedly on his feet, looking like a child that had just got a new toy.
“Uh, my dad really likes- liked the movies. We have one and two, also,” she said as she nodded her towards the shelf. Dean smiled again and pushed the “open” button on the DVD player, and swapped Where the Wild Things are for Terminator. He plopped back on the couch and slung his arms around the back of it, and let his legs relax. He watched the movie with such intensity you would think the cure to the Croatoan virus was secretly hidden in it.
“Dinner is served,” Alice shouted from the kitchen, where a big pot of noodles steamed. It was five thirty-seven, and Dean had almost forgotten that that’s when families used to have dinner. Alice turned to dean and smiled. “I hope you like spaghetti,” is all she said before Alex and Jeremy walked into the kitchen and started to make their plates. Dean rose from his seat on the couch and walked to the entrance of the kitchen, getting a good look at how this abnormal family functioned.
Alex was served first, the smallest portion, and she scooted to the kitchen table, placing her plate on the edge and opening the fridge, squealing when she spotted the new bottle of generic-brand cola. She raised it over her head and then set it on the table next to her plate and swiped a hand on top if the counter, making contact with a cup and carrying it over to the table. She called Alice over, and Alice happily poured the soda for her, handing her the cup when she was done.
Jeremy served himself, a pretty goods-sized heap landing and steaming on his plate. He licked his lips and picked up a fork, not bothering to wait for anyone else before he dug in. He sat on the couch and looked up at the movie playing, shrugged his shoulders in a careless way and turned back to his dinner, which he wouldn’t let get cold. Alex sat down next to him and carefully placed her drink in a shoe that sat near the sofa, using it so the cup wouldn’t topple. The child’s feet didn’t even touch the ground when she sat on the couch, she was so small.
As the two others ate, Alice finally began to prepare her own plate, plopping a modest serving on her plate, picking up a cup of her own soda as she made her way into the living room, walking past Dean, telling him, “Eat up before it gets all cold and gross.” She pulled out the chair that was tucked under the desk next to the television, and sat, placing the plate on her lap and stabbing her fork at the red noodles that lay in a knotted pile on her plate.
Dean moved into the kitchen, his hiking boots that he hadn’t bothered to take off tapping slightly on the linoleum floor. As he approached the stove, he could smell the spaghetti, and man did it smell good. He leaned in and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose and letting it flood with the smell of canned tomato sauce. He pulled back, smiled, grabbed a plate off of the counter, and filled it two steaming heaps of spaghetti. It had been years since he’d actually had a home cooked meal, and the suspense was killing him. He didn’t even bother to sit down before he moved his first forkful of spaghetti to his mouth. The flavor spread over his tongue quickly, and the spices were so diverse he wondered where they had been his entire life. He groaned in the moment, and looked up, realizing the sound really had escaped his mouth. Alice happily looked at him, a grin slowly spreading on her lips.
“This pasta is awesome!” he exclaimed around a mouthful of noodles.
“Ha-ha, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Now, come sit,” she gestured towards the lounge chair that was crammed into the corner of the living room between two bookshelves and the couch. Dean walked out of kitchen, hitting the light as he went, and walked over to the chair. He pulled it forward and sat, twisting his fork in the pasta as he did. Jeremy had restarted Terminator, and they continued to watch it long after dinner was over, commenting on how John Conner was bold to go with the futuristic robot that would later be sent to kill him.
Once Terminator was over, and the dishes had been put away, Dean stood from his seat, and walked over to his keys that hung next to the doors.
“Well, uh, thanks for the dinner, Alice, but I should really be going before it gets too dark,” he said as he reached for the locks.
“Wait, you’re going already?” she asked, frowning slightly at the sound of her own voice. A tinge of desperation floated in the air and Dean lowered his hand from where it had rested on the top lock. He raised an eyebrow at her in question. “I just mean,” she started again, “you’ve only been here for, like, an hour, and…” she paused. “To be honest, it looks like you could use a shower.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot and looked at Dean, raising her own eyebrows to ask if she was right.
And she was right. It had been months since Dean had stood in an actual indoor shower, and used proper soap to get the dirt and grime out of his hair and off of his skin. Dean thought for a moment, and in his gut, he knew that he didn’t want to pass up the chance to have a real, warm, running water shower. He also didn’t want to seem like he didn’t have a place to be, because he did. Then again, he kind of didn’t. His situation was kind of a complicated one, and he didn’t know where he stood. Out of the haze of thought, he saw Alice’s mouth move, but didn’t hear any sound.
“What?” he asked, shaking himself out of the daze. She looked at him with a questioning face and repeated her statement.
“I said we also have another bed that you could rest in,” she offered. “It’s a queen, and no one’s slept in it, so it’s clean. Stay for a while Dean, we like having the company.” Her eyes were honest, and something in his heart pulled. Here were three kids that had somehow beaten the apocalypse and survived the Croatoan virus. Now they were asking him to stay, and the idea didn’t sound like too bad of one. Alice had hundreds of stores locked down and at her disposal, there was running water and electricity, endless weapons, and the kid knew how to cook some great spaghetti.
“I guess I could stay for a little while,” Dean said. Alice smiled and nodded.
“Here,” she said, “Let me show you the room.” She turned on her heels and walked straight down the hall, turned right, and pushed open the door. It led to a room that wasn’t big, but wasn’t small. A queen-sized bed took up most of the space in the room, and a computer on a small desk sat in the far right corner. There was a good-sized dresser next to it, and the room had a homey atmosphere to it, like someone had really tried to set this room up nicely.
“Wow,” Dean stated, looking around as he walked up behind Alex. She stood off to the side and let Dean walk into the room. He nodded his head in approval and looked back to Alex who was looking down at her hands, picking at her nails. “Wow,” Dean said again. Alex looked up and nodded.
“You like it?” she asked.
“Like it? It’s been a few months since I’ve been in a house that wasn’t crawling with Croats. And this room,” he swept his arm around, “is actually nice, like someone put time into decorating it and stuff.” Dean jammed his hands into the jacket he was wearing and looked around the room again, sighing in satisfaction.
“Well,” Alice said, turning to leave Dean to his new room, “you’re welcome to stay for as long as you’d like. The towels for the shower are in the closet in the bathroom.” Alice turned and left Dean alone in his room, and for the first time in a long time, he felt safe and welcome.
Part Three