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For everything you've been through, I hope none of you want to actually fap any time soon. There's even more exposition coming up >_<
0107, starting to feel sleepy... Enjoy!
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The apartment halls smelled of old cigarette smoke, stale curry, and unwashed people. As they followed Jackson to their room, Emma's hand snaked its way into Matt's, crushing it with her trepidation. The determination she showed on the roof seemed to disappear bit by bit as she went, reflecting the naked fear she saw in each pair of eyes peeking from an open door.
"We moved everyone down to the middle of the building," Jackson said, "don't matter where they were living before. That was Mama Ruth's idea. Worked for Ron, too, though he wouldn't say no to Mama either way."
Matt asked, "And who is Mama Ruth?"
"Oh, yeah. She be Ron's sister. She's in charge of everything but the guns. Got a whole army of women and girls workin' for her, splittin' up the food and tellin' people to turn the lights off. She wanted everyone on one or two floors, makes it easier to communicate and that shit." He turned to the last door at the end of the long hall. "This is it, number 501. The room above is Ron's so-called 'command center' 'cause it has a view of the intersection."
Jackson unlocked the door and the three of them entered. The smell from the hallway was drowned out by the overwhelming stench of cat shit and who knows what else. Matt quickly raised his hand to his face, clenching his nose and mouth shut. Beside him, Emma began to dry-heave, tears streaming down her face from the putrid stench. The three of them beat a hasty retreat, Jackson closing the door on his way out.
"Holy fuck!" was all the young man could say after a moment. A nearby door slammed shut as the stench dissipated down the hallway. "Holy fuck," he repeated, a little quieter. "I'm gonna see if Mama Ruth knew about this. Damn." As Jackson headed down the hallway, he half-turned and said over his shoulder, "You two stay here, I won't be long." As he walked off, Matt could hear one more soft, "holy fuck..." the younger Marine whispered to himself.
"I agree with Isaiah," Emma said matter-of-factly. Matt looked down at his little partner's face, and the two of them burst into laughter.
"Come on, let's sit down," Matt offered, and the two of them dropped their luggage and leaned against the wall. "That sure was disgusting."
"Yeah..." Emma paused for a second, looking into space like a young private with PTSD. With a far-off tone of voice, she continued, "reminded me of my Aunt Bernice's house. It's why daddy never let us have a cat." She looked up at Matt, who was watching her face as she talked, and gave a pained smile. "I never liked Aunt Bernice's cats anyway."
Instinctively, Matt stretched his arm around Emma's shoulders and pulled her in. Though she wasn't crying again, she still seemed to welcome it, snuggling into the crook of his arm. The two of them stayed still like that for a long moment, until Matt noticed someone approaching in his peripheral vision. He turned his head fully to look, expecting Jackson, but was surprised to see a young Latina woman, probably in her mid-20s, approaching. She was dressed conservatively, with only a little bit of make-up trying its best to mask the bags under her eyes. But even though she wasn't dressed to look flashy, it was hard to hide the flashy nature of her curves. The old Marine tried to keep from staring at her shapely body, so instead focused on her face. Her dark and lightly curled hair framed a face of beautifully soft features. But what really caught
his attention was the stranger's eyes. They were nearly excessively large, with a deep brown iris that was still distinct from the pupil. And, most beautifully, they were completely full of care and concern.
Though Matt was practically staring at her, she wasn't even looking at him. As she got closer, those eyes of hers lit up, and she said, "Emma? Is that really you?"
Emma shot up right away, her mouth in a surprised O. "Señorita!?" Emma skipped over Matt's outstretched legs and practically leapt into the Latina woman's arms. "Ohmygod ohmygod! It really is you!"
The woman laughed, hugging the girl tightly. "I could say the same thing! I'm so happy to see you, you don't even know!" Emma continued to bounce up and down in the woman's embrace, trying to contain laughter. But just as quickly as the joyful reunion had begun, Emma pulled away to look the woman in the eyes.
"They... the monsters got John. And mom and dad..."
"Oh, Pequeña." The woman quickly gathered Emma into her arms again, hugging her tightly as silent sobs wracked the little girl's body. She looked up at Matt, who had risen to his feet, looking at him as if to say 'Who are you?' without even mouthing the words to him. Instead, she turned her attention back to Emma and whispered soft encouragements into her ear. Eventually, the sobbing ceased, and Emma pulled out of the embrace.
The Latina woman untucked a corner of her blouse to wipe away the tears on Emma's cheek, and while doing so asked, "Who is your friend, Emma?" Her accent wasn't thick, but noticeable. Especially in the way she pronounced Emma like Ayymah. Though the older woman was concerned, the question brought another smile to the girl's face.
"Oh! This is Matt, he saved me. Twice!" She grabbed Matt's hand and physically pulled him into the conversation. Still bubbling, Emma said to Matt, "This is Señorita Rodriguez, mi profesor de Español!"
Smiling, and trying to joke, Matt stuck out his hand, saying, "Sorry, I don't speak Spanish. Did she say you're her physics teacher?"
Emma smacked his shoulder and rolled her eyes, but the Señorita lightly laughed. Taking his hand gently, she said, "You don't have to call me Señorita Rodriguez, though. Jessica will do just fine." She draped an arm around Emma's neck and brought her into a half-hug. "I'm just grateful to see my Pequeña again. So I guess I'm grateful you were there for her." Emma nudged her in the side, holding up two fingers. "Twice!" Jessica added, laughing again.
Matt felt his cheeks begin turning red as he joined in. *Her laughter... it's... almost musical. Wait, am I blushing?* he thought to himself, and as he realized that it only made his face turn red even faster. *Thank goodness it's dark in here.* He silently cleared his throat, just to make sure he didn't make a fool of himself in case his voice broke, and said, "I'm grateful I could be there, too. She kinda saved me, in a way. Or at least I'm not lonely anymore."
Jessica put a hand on her chest and made an 'awww' type of noise, but Emma punched him in the shoulder instead, saying, "Don't believe a word of it, he's full of caca!" She finished off with a dramatic roll of her eyes.
Playing along with the act, Matt rubbed where he had been punched, replying, "Watch it, or you're zombie bait tomorrow. Oh, and that actually hurt, you little jerk."
The playful banter was abruptly interrupted by a rather large woman pushing the trio against the wall. Without even a word of warning, she muscled past them, two much younger women in trail. Bringing up the rear was an apologetic looking Jackson. Coming to a halt in front of Matt, Jackson gestured towards the large woman about to breach the noxious apartment. "Allow me to introduce... Mama Ruth."
Matt caught a glimpse of the imposing figure of Mama Ruth, right before she charged undaunted into the soiled air. It was enough to confirm his suspicions. While she did have a slight resemblance to Pierce, she undeniably looked to be the kind of person that could direct that man's efforts and attention with ease. Besides a few shared features, like eyes and nappy hair, the comparison between Pierce and his sister ended. While he was quite tall, wiry, and almost lanky, Mama Ruth was short and built like a bull. Whereas the old sergeant had lean muscle on his lean frame, the old matron appeared to be thickly muscled under a thick layer of fat.
Not that you would say such a thing to her face.
"I figured that was her," Matt replied, and Jackson gave him a look as if to say, 'you don't even know.'
Mama Ruth's two attendants still waited at the door, looking at each other and waiting for one of them to take the lead. It wasn't until Mama Ruth said in a booming voice, "Get in here, you silly girls," that they sprung into motion, squeezing past each other and trying to be the first to obey. *Damn she's got authority. I bet she has Pierce under her thumb just the same way.* Matt turned his attention from the apartment—and thankfully one of the women closed the door behind them—back to the small triangle of conversation.
It was actually an amusing scene. Emma still stood at her teacher's side, her arm wrapped around Jessica's waist and Jessica's arm draped over the girl's shoulder. Opposite them, leaning against the wall, stood Jackson. Though he looked cool and casual, with a cocky lday-killing grin on his face, it was obvious Jessica was having none of it. Emma, mouth slightly agape with pure amusement written on her face, watched the conversation as if she was an audience member and not actually present.
"Come on, mamacita, you kn—"
"Mamacita? Please, don't you ever call me that again."
"Why do you gotta be so mean? I'm just being friendly."
"Oh please, I know when little boys like you are being friendly and when they're being friendly."
Jackson frowned in a mock pout, replying, "Little boy? I'm no little boy." He rolled up his already short sleeve, showing off his huge biceps. "Does a little boy have guns like these?" Jessica simply looked at Emma, and the two burst into laughter. Now frowning with an actual pout, Jackson stuck his hands in his pockets and turned to leave. Sparing one glance for Matt, he muttered, "...women!" and walked away. Emma and Jessica, who had almost stifled themselves, burst out in laughter again.
Pretending to roll up a sleeve, Jessica lowered her voice, saying, "I'm no little boy!" before another fit of giggles took her over. Part of Matt felt a little sorry for the young man. He had no shot in hell, but the rejection was still fairly brutal. But he couldn't take the guy's side if he wanted to win favor with the girls.
"I hope that doesn't happen too often..." Matt said, pointing a thumb down the hallway.
"Oh he tries, the poor boy, he tries. He'll lick his wounds and be back in a few days," Jessica replied.
Emma piped up, "And you shoot him down every time?"
Containing a giggle-snort, Jessica said, "Not quite so savage every time. That was mostly for you, darling." She cupped her student's cheek, pretending to be serious for a moment. "That's how you shut down boys, okay? Take notes."
When the women had laughed themselves out finally, Matt butted in. "So, now that Jackson is gone, are you going to introduce us to Mama Ruth?"
"Oh, nuh-uh," said Jessica, shaking her head. "Not when she's in work mode. And that apartment needs some work."
"When will they be done?" Emma asked, but Jessica just shook her head.
"Who knows, Pequeña. In fact, I bet you she will be bringing in more help. I'm going to go hide before she thinks I wanna go in there." As if on cue, the apartment door opened and one of the other women slipped out. She gasped for breath, leaning against the wall, and looked up at Matt with watering eyes. "You know what?" began Jessica, "you two get your things and come with me." Emma picked up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder, and the two girls began walking arm-in-arm down the hall. Matt followed closely with his belongings.
He tried to assess the architecture, he really did. The building was an old one, so it made sense that Pierce would have lived here as a child. The floorboards—and the beams under them—were so warped that walking down the hallway was a little bit treacherous. From what Matt could tell, and from what he could see glancing briefly inside the apartments whose doors laid open, they were fairly small sized. Maybe two bedrooms in each? And most of them hadn't seen a fresh wallpaper or carpeting job since the 70s.
The hallway lay parallel to the street, he could tell, all the apartments street-side. In the center of the building sat an elevator, with the staircase spiraling around the elevator shaft. Here Jessica led them down one flight, before continuing on. The two of them chattered silently between each other, not even sparing a glance for Matt. Although he was grateful for that, because neither one of them would catch him repeatedly assessing Jessica's architecture.
Try as he might, he couldn't ignore it any longer. It was almost a shock to him that his brain could betray him like this in the middle of the apocalypse, but then again he was in relative safety for the first time in a long time. Maybe, now that his hind brain thought he had returned to the pack, it was allowing him to notice this woman in front of him as a sexual creature. Emphasis on the sexual. Her curly dark hair, though showing some signs of disarray and neglect, still tumbled generously down her back, drawing his attention to her curvaceous ass. The jeans that first appeared modest now, from this more clear angle, were quite form-fitting. In addition to the glorious form, Matt was mesmerized by the sway of her hips. It was almost funny, the juxtaposition of Emma's straightforward plodding to Jessica's seductive stride...
They reached a closed door and pulled up short, Matt's eyes quickly returning to a more decent level. "This is me," Jessica said, opening the door and gesturing them in. The 40 year old wallpaper and carpet greeted them here too, although some aspects looked a little more millennial such as the flatscreen TV and the leather-looking couch. Pictures of Jessica's life adorned the wall and end tables, and when Jessica noticed Emma looking closely at one she commented, "This apartment was my place before the... whatever it was. That's me and my Abuela when I was your age," she said to Emma. "I'm really lucky I didn't have to uproot anything and move myself."
The apartment itself was about as large as Matt expected. The door from the hall opened into a small foyer of sorts, with the miniature kitchen directly to the right and the living room ahead. Off of the living room was a short narrow hall which, presumably, led to two modest bedrooms and a small bathroom. The theme, it seemed, was compactness.
"It's so homey!" Emma cheered. She slid her backpack off her shoulder and fwomped onto the sofa. "And it even smells really nice too!" Matt noticed the pleasant smell of the apartment too, now that Emma had mentioned it. Or, at least, it didn't smell as unpleasant as the rest of the building.
Jessica smiled at the girl's enthusiasm over the almost cramped home. "My Madre always said, 'Being poor doesn't mean you have to be gross.' In so many words."
Emma sank further into the sofa, covering a yawn with the back of her hand. Once she realized both adults had witnessed it, she sat up hurriedly. "I'm not sleepy! Honest."
"Come on, Pequeña..." Jessica held out both hands to the young girl, but Emma refused to take them.
"I mean it! Not sleepy!" She crossed her arms, either in indignation or fake indignation. Matt couldn't tell.
"Don't make me..." but before she could actually make a threat, Jessica pounced on Emma. Like a bossy older sister babysitting the younger, she mercilessly pinned Emma to the sofa and tickled her ribs.
Emma gasped for air, spitting out incoherent protests, until she managed to say, "Okay! Okay! I surrender! Señoritaaaa!"
"Shush shush!" the woman said, putting a finger across her lips as well as Emma's. "Not too loud or the noise police will be here!"
"It's your fault!" Emma grumped. But this time, instead of crossing her arms, she held them out. Jessica lifted Emma off the sofa and shuffled her down the hall.
"You can try some of my PJs on, but I think your ass is too tiny to fit, sweetie!"
Matt glanced at his watch. For such an eventful day—rather, night—it was barely three in the morning. *I suppose if Emma slept poorly she'd already be tired,* he thought to himself. Then he mentally smacked his forehead. *Of course she slept poorly. God, that poor girl. I'm so lucky Jessica was here, this place would be hell for Emma otherwise.*
The old soldier realized he was still holding his things. He gently lay the rucksack on the living room floor, then unslung his rifle. He automatically began removing all the live ammo from it, something he hadn't done since before the apocalypse began. When he realized what he was doing, it struck him that his brain really did feel safe. He would have to count his ammo at some point, just to make sure his estimates lined up with reality. *Not that I'm particularly low on rounds, but...*
Matt realized after a second that he was feeling tired too, it had been an eventful 24 hours. He had nearly run into a pack of the monsters, then been forced to kill them all. Thinking back on that briefly, Matt suspected he killed enough in that little firefight to double his zombie kill count. Then he had met Emma. Then Jackson. Then Pierce. And finally... Jessica. After a moment of spacing out, in which he may have been recalling the tight jeans, Matt rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. Looking for something else on which he could focus his attention, Matt looked around the living room. There were sensible blackout curtains on the window, something each occupied apartment probably had now for security reasons as much as anything. The furniture, including the sofa, seemed a little cheap on closer inspection. Cheap, or old, which made sense if Jessica lived alone here on a teacher's salary. The fanciest objects, in fact, were the picture frames. Dozens of portraits and collages hung on the walls or were propped up on the end tables. Family was most prominent, although a collage of college-age Jessica and friends hung prominently on one wall. The only other items on the wall were a framed degree, as well as a large picture of her in a graduation cap and gown flanked by a middle-aged Latino couple. Parents?
Matt continued scanning the walls and, by the time he had made a full circuit, Jessica returned at the end of the hallway. She smiled briefly, saying, "She's sound asleep, the little angel." Matt turned towards Jessica, about to speak. But before he could, Jessica closed the short distance between them, flung her arms around the man, and began to weep.
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lit /
phi /
pr /
rnb /
sci /
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zom
]
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a /
ai /
grim /
hi /
me /
rx /
vg /
wp /
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]
[
cake /
cd /
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fag /
fur /
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men /
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]