Chapter 44: Like Old Times
As Simon took his time killing the two encroaching zombies and moving the table to reinforce the broken window before more could join them, he tried to remember what had happened next the last time he was here. Even though he’d have sworn that every detail of those wonderful few days had burned their way into his brain, he was surprised to find that they’d been scoured away just like everything else during his time in the desert.
He remembered Freya, of course, but even his memory of the beautiful dark-haired woman hadn’t done her justice. Everything was the same as it had been, though. The sadness, the outfit, and even bloody hands remained unchanged. So, once the breach was secured, he found it so hard not to stare that he was forced to mumble, “I’m going to make sure that there’s no more of those things in here with us. You keep that knife handy.”
She didn’t respond, but then she didn’t before, either, did she? Simon tried not to let those thoughts and his second-guessing of himself distract him too much. Even though there hadn’t been another zombie in the building before now, it would be just like Helades to add another one just to zombify him when he’d finally found his way to Freya again.
So, taking at least twice as long as he did the first time, he searched in every closet and under every bed from the owner’s room on the third floor down to the basement. Then he reinforced the back door, so it wouldn’t cut their time together short like it had last time. It was only when all that was done that he joined the intermittently sobbing girl again.
Simon thought about trying to hold and comfort her, but as he approached, he saw her grip the knife a little harder, and he decided against that. Instead, he very obviously set aside his weapons and then pulled each of them a pint before he sat down on the opposite side of the table from her.
“Look,” he said finally, trying to break the silence. “It wasn’t your fault, okay? Whatever happened? Whatever you did, I’m sure it needed to be done.”
“How would you know?” she asked, not bothering to look up.
“You aren’t the only one who’s lost someone in all this,” he sighed, trying to push back flashes of that smoke-filled basement. “I’ve… well, the zombies took someone special to me too.”
Somehow the silences seemed more tense than last time, and Simon was trying to figure out what he’d done wrong when Freya finally spoke. “It was Brenna… she just… and then I-I—” she whimpered as she started crying.