Stella’s laughter pulled me from my thoughts, and that meant it was time to get up. I sighed and got out of bed.
“Hey.” Boden pulled his head out from the pillow and squinted up at me. “What are you doing?”
“Stella’s awake,” I said and pulled on one of Boden’s sweaters that was draped over the chair. It was way too big for me and made of something scratchy and warm like wool, but I liked it anyway because it felt cozy.
“Serg can take care of her.” He rolled onto his back and patted the empty spot next to him. “You can come back to bed.”
“Serg has gotten up with Max and Stella the past three mornings,” I reminded him. “I can’t make him do it every day.”
“Stella and Max can handle being on their own for fifteen minutes.” Boden grinned wickedly. “Come back to bed.”
“Boden.” I gave him a look as I put on a pair of pants. “You know my rule about not doing anything when the kids are awake.”
“I know,” he sighed. “But since we’re sleeping together now, don’t you think maybe you should stop calling me by my last name?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You want me to call you Charlie?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” He shrugged. “Try it.”
I crawled onto the bed so I could lean over and give him a kiss on the lips. “See you downstairs in a little bit, Charlie.”
“No.” He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like the Charlie. I did like the kissing part, though. We can do that again.”
I gave him one more quick kiss, and he tried to wrap his arms around me, so he could pull me back into bed, but I squirmed out of his embrace. He was laughing as I left the room.
When I got downstairs, Stella was sitting on a kitchen stool eating oatmeal. The other stool had been destroyed in the fight with Bruce, so Serg was forced to lean against the counter and eat.
We didn’t have real oatmeal, not in the traditional sense. The house had come with a few canisters of plain Quaker Oats, and we soaked them in warm water from the lake for a few minutes. Then we smashed up berries into it. The berries I’d tried had never made me sick, so we’d taken to eating them, and we all seemed to be doing fine.
“What’s this?” Serg asked, pretending to be shocked to see me. “It’s morning, and you’re getting up? You’re not going to spend all day in bed with Boden?”
“It’s not all morning,” I said, but I blushed a little at his accusation.
A pop bottle of “clean” lake water sat on the counter, and I poured myself a glass. We could never be certain that it was fully clean, of course. We strained out dirt and bigger particles, and we boiled the water to kill any germs. That was the best we could do.
“So … is this like a permanent thing?” Serg asked between mouthfuls of oatmeal.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged and took a drink of water. “Why?”
“Me and Max are going fishing this morning,” Serg said. “But he asked me after that if I’d help him do stuff to his room. He hates the stupid beige walls, so I thought we could try to come up with some way to make it cooler.”
“So you wanted to know if that’s going to be his room from now on,” I said.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
Boden had been sleeping in the master bedroom with me, so Max was sleeping in Boden’s room down the hall. Max seemed to enjoy it, though, because he liked having a room all to himself.
“Go ahead,” I said at length. “Decorate Max’s room.”
Serg raised an eyebrow approvingly. “Sounds good.”
“I think I’m going to do laundry today, so I’m going to go out and get some lake water,” I said. “If Max gets up and needs help with his breakfast, I’ll be out back.”
“Thanks, but I think I manage,” Serg smiled.
We’d found several large plastic buckets in the garage, and I took two of them out with me to the lake. Doing laundry was tedious. I had to fill up several buckets and use the strainer to get out any dirt. Then I filled up the bathtub with the water, and I got on my hands and knees and scrubbed the clothes with a bar of soap. It was an all-day thing, so I wanted to get a jump on it early.
I was bent over the lake, reaching out as far as I could so I wouldn’t get so much mud mixed in with the water, when I heard a familiar sound.
I turned around to see a zombie a few feet behind me, making a retching noise.
35.
I grabbed the empty bucket and swung at it. The zombie narrowly ducked out of the way, which I didn’t appreciate at all. I wasn’t used to zombies dodging attacks, so right off the bat that was a bad sign.
The zombie was grayish and clearly a man. He’d been turned long enough that he looked as though his eyes were going to fall out, and his lip was torn off, revealing his broken and crooked teeth. But he was young enough where he still held human form, and he was fast.
He ran at me, and I swung the bucket again. This time it connected with his face, but it only stunned him for a second. He didn’t even lose his balance.