“Are you living there?”
“Yeah. I have a little room with a bed and no windows. Not like these sweet digs you guys got here.” Blue looked around, and I smirked. “I"m gonna wrap this with a loose bandage so it can breathe, but you"re gonna have to change it at least once day. Make sure you wear loose clothing, too.”
“I don"t think that"ll be a problem.” I couldn"t imagine that they had any tight, revealing clothes here, and if they did, Harlow certainly wouldn"t bring them back for me.
“So, you, Lazlo, and Harlow are living together then?” Blue asked, carefully dressing my wound. He taped a square piece of gauze over it, then wrapped another long piece of gauze around my waist several times to help hold it in place.
“Yeah, I guess we are.”
“You know, you could"ve told Lazlo about this,” Blue lowered his voice.
“I know,” I sighed. “I just…” What? I didn"t even know, really. I just felt better keeping things to myself. It felt safer, both for me and for Lazlo.
“You should cut him some slack.” Blue had finished fixing me up, so he pulled down my shirt “He was crazy worried about you. He really likes you.”
“Yeah, well, who doesn"t?” I tried to play it off as a joke, so Blue shook his head. I exhaled and looked down at the floor. “I know. But…” I ran a hand through my hair. “It"s too hard caring about people. I already care about him too much. What more am I supposed to do?”
“That"s up to you.” Blue stood up and took off his rubber gloves. “It"s clean, for now.
But you need to wash it and keep it as clean and dry as possible. I"ll check on it again in a few days. But if its gets redder, has excessive discharge, or starts to smell, you need to come see me right away.”
“Yes, sir.” I saluted him.
Lazlo poked his head out a minute later, then came out and talked to Blue. He purposefully kept his back to me, and I had a feeling I"d have to deal with that for a while.
But he didn"t need to know everything that was going on with me. Besides, it wasn"t as if I shut him out to spite him. I was trying to protect him, too.
After Blue left, Lazlo huffed about the trailer, making as much noise as possible without saying anything. Realizing that I had to say something to get him to knock it off, I told him that I had been cut in an embarrassing place and didn"t want him to see. That relieved him, and he smiled and made a lame joke about my body being nothing to be ashamed of.
Harlow came back carrying several bags filled with clothing. Her long blond waves had been pulled back in a hair tie, and I demanded she share one with me. She talked at crazy speeds, excitedly showing Lazlo and me everything after I put my hair up in a messy bun.
Most of her clothes consisted of skirts and dresses, all of which she claimed she could
“fix” because she could sew. Bishop had been convinced jobs involving sewing and repairing clothing would be idea for Harlow, and she actually sounded kind of thrilled about it.
The clothes she picked out for Lazlo were equally attractive, of the tight tee shirt and jeans variety. Not that he couldn"t pull it off, because he really could, but I hated that even in the thrift store during the end of the world, they could both still manage to look good.
Harlow"s one big complaint: no combat boots. Hers had been destroyed when we got here because of excessive zombie goop, and Bishop didn"t have any replacements. Although, as Lazlo kindly pointed out, we were on an army base. There had to be a pair of combat boots here she could fit into, and obtaining new boots became her life"s mission.
She went to put her clothes away in her room, carefully arranging and folding them, while I set my sack in the hall closet. I knew I could theoretically put them in the master bedroom, but I still wasn"t ready for the conversation about sleeping arrangements.
I changed out of my bloodied tee shirt and gray sweats in favor of brown pants and a white thermal shirt.
After she had finished, Harlow said we should head down to lunch. Since Lazlo and I had no idea where we were going, we followed her. I"m not even sure how she knew her way through the maze of trailers. As we walked, it became apparent that many of the trailers were empty. The government had planned for a lot more survivors than there actually were.
We walked on a dirt trail amongst the more inhabited homes, and some of them really did look like homes. One of them even had a small flower garden by the front steps, with a bent Radio Flyer filled with rocks sitting next to it.
In the window, a child had colored and cut out pictures of the sun and rainbows and taped them to the glass. I stopped, admiring them. People were really alive here, and I couldn"t help the excited, warm feeling that left inside me.
A familiar throaty growl interrupted my thoughts. I cocked my head, not sure that I heard right, and then it came again.