“To you, O Lord, I call;
my rock, do not refuse to hear me,
for if you are silent to me,
I shall be like those who go down to the Pit.
Hear the voice of my supplication,
as I cry to you for help,
as I lift up my hands
toward your most holy sanctuary.”
(Psalm 28: 1-2)
“It was you who took me from the womb;
you kept me safe on my mother’s breast.
On you I was cast from my birth,
and since my mother bore me
you have been my God.
Do not be far from me,
for trouble is near
and there is no one to help.”
(Psalm 22: 9-11)
As I read from the Book of Psalms, I’m reminded of both the greatness and the goodness of my God. My faith in Him has been restored; I’ve been reassured that He is still watching over us, giving us protection from the ungodly creatures that roam His earth, for God is good, and they are the result of evil.
Now I look to my Father for guidance in this time of uncertainty. He has blessed us with the miracle of new life in this world of the undead, and I’m grateful, but I am also afraid, both for Gretchen and for our unborn child. So much is at stake, and we have so much to fear. I can’t bear the thought of losing another child, and to lose Gretchen, who has been a source of comfort to me since the day the dead rose, would be equally devastating.
Until I found my way back to the Lord, Gretchen was my rock, and now she is so much more – not only my lover, but the mother of my child. No one can replace Leighanne in my heart, but Gretchen gives me hope that love can still exist in this world. This new baby will not bring back Brooke and Bonnie, but he or she will be loved and, I pray, protected from the threat that exists outside these walls.
This isn’t the ideal place to have a child, but then, neither was the stable in Bethlehem where Mary gave birth to baby Jesus. If she can do it, so can Gretchen. I know in my heart that God will be with her, but I still worry about everything that could go wrong. I need to give my fears over to my Father, put my trust in Him, and rest assured that He will watch over us.
It isn’t always easy, though, to submit to God’s will. I still wish there was something I could do to secure our future and prepare us for what’s to come in the next nine months. The void Jo’s passing left behind seems wider than ever; I know I would feel better if she were still here on Earth to lend her guidance and expertise. But she’s not, and so I pray to my God to give us a sign or send us some help. I’m not sure we can do this on our own.
Lord, help us… guide us… be with us. In this new year, we’ll need Your mercy more than ever.
“I sought the Lord, and He answered me
and delivered me from all of my fears.”
(Psalm 34: 4)
“Trust in the Lord, and do good;
so you will live in the land, and enjoy security.
Take delight in the Lord,
and he will give you the desires of your heart.”
(Psalm 37: 3-4)
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Week Thirty-Seven
“Ten… nine…”
Eight-and-a-half months after the world died, Brian looked around the circle of eight at the seven other survivors.
“Six… five…”
For the last few minutes, their eyes had been glued to the face of Howie’s watch, which sat on the coffee table in the center of their circle.
“Three… two… one… HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
Nick was the only one who shouted it. The others let it slip somberly through their lips. Even Gabby looked solemn, although that was nothing new these days. The last of her childlike exuberance had faded away with her mother’s passing. Though still just thirteen, she seemed as much of an adult as the rest of them, world-weary and wise beyond her years.
Would this world have done the same thing to Brooke and Bonnie? Brian sometimes wondered. Perhaps thankfully, he would never find out. All he knew for sure was that his daughters were in a better place. At least they would never have to see the horrors Gabby had witnessed or feel the fear and desperation they all felt on a daily basis.
The new year was supposed to signify a fresh start, a sense of hope. But it was hard to feel hopeful when they were still, as far as they knew, the only eight people left on the planet, struggling to survive on a base that was surrounded by the living dead, who still skulked outside their fortified fences. How long could they last like this? Eventually, their stock of supplies would run out. Even if their garden succeeded, food would be scarce. And they still hadn’t found a solution for the impending shortage of fuel to feed the generators. Without electricity, they’d be living in the Dark Ages again. It was only a matter of time before the lights went out. Then the only light left in Brian’s life would be the love he shared with Gretchen… if they were lucky.
The news that Gretchen was carrying his child had come as a surprise, but the glimmer of hope and happiness he’d felt when he’d found out had been extinguished by fear. Contrary to the things he’d said to reassure Gretchen, Brian couldn’t help but worry, both for their baby and for her own health. He knew women had been delivering babies on their own since Eve’s time, but he also knew how many things could go wrong, complications no one on the base would know how to handle. Losing Jo and Kayleigh had been hard on all of them, but Brian feared that losing Gretchen or another child would destroy him. It was that fear that fought with his restored, but fragile faith, threatening to unhinge him.
“Aren’t we supposed to start singing now?” asked Nick, who still managed to look on the bright side, even in the midst of darkness.
Riley laughed, and the sound lifted Brian’s spirits. “Go for it,” she said. “You know you want to.”
So Nick launched into, “Should auld acquaintance be forgot…”
“…and never brought to mind?” Gretchen promptly joined in, surprising them all. Her high, sweet voice made Brian smile.
“Should auld acquaintance be forgot,” he sang along, “and auld lang syne?”
Gradually, they all joined in, until there were eight voice chorusing, “For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne… We’ll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.” Brian could hear AJ’s raspy tenor and Gabby’s shrill soprano echoing about a beat behind the others, unsure of the lyrics, and that made him smile, too. If there was anything left in this world to give him hope, it was these seven people sitting before him. Together, they were still strong, and if their camaraderie could survive, so could they.
“How about a toast?” suggested Howie, standing up. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of champagne. Brian raised his eyebrows in surprise; Kevin had told him they’d purged the house of alcohol after AJ nearly drank himself to death one day, while he and Gretchen were in Atlanta. He didn’t miss his cousin’s look of disapproval, but Kevin said nothing when Howie came around to fill their glasses. Brian was glad when he skipped AJ, and AJ didn’t protest.
Everyone else held out their glasses to Howie, except Gretchen, who said, “None for me, thanks,” when he stopped in front of her.
Uh oh, Brian thought, when the others looked at her in surprise. They hadn’t told anyone else their news, and Riley had been sworn to secrecy until they figured out the best way to do it. This wasn’t the way they’d imagined it, but since when had anything turned out like they’d planned?
AJ smirked at Gretchen. “It’s okay, you can drink in front of me. I’m a grown-up; I can handle it.” But before Gretchen could respond, his expression changed. The smirk dropped off his face, as he raised his eyebrows. “Unless… you’re not pregnant or something, are you?”
Though she was far from showing, Gretchen couldn’t hide it. She didn’t have a poker face; her eyes widened, and her cheeks reddened, as a sheepish smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.
The others stared at her, their mouths dropping open. “Seriously?” asked Kevin, looking from Gretchen to Brian for confirmation. Everyone else’s eyes followed his.
When Brian ducked his head in a subtle nod, AJ crowed, “Holy shit! You got knocked up by a preacher?! The world really has gone to Hell!”
At that, Brian felt his own face grow warm, but the weird thing was that he wasn’t really ashamed. Maybe the timing of it was wrong, but the rest felt… right. If it was in God’s plan, how could it be a mistake?
He felt reassured by the others’ reactions. “You’re gonna have a baby??” Gabby blurted, sitting up straight in her chair and gaping incredulously at Gretchen. She actually looked excited by the idea. Kevin didn’t seem as thrilled to have one more thing to stress over, but he congratulated both of them, and so did Howie, grinning as he wrung Brian’s hand.
Nick apparently noticed Riley’s lack of a reaction, because he suddenly thrust his finger toward her. “You knew! How long have you known?”
Riley smirked. “Since Christmas.”
His mouth gaped. “A week? We live in the same house! We share a freaking bed, and you kept this quiet for a whole week?!”
She laughed. “It was Gretchen and Brian’s news to share, not mine.”
“Thanks, Rye.” Gretchen smiled and added, “Sorry, Nick.”
“Damn!” Nick just shook his head in disbelief, causing everyone to laugh at his expense. It lightened the mood in the house, which had been fairly gloomy all night, despite the occasion.
They’d tried to make New Year’s Eve special, as they had Christmas and Thanksgiving, but Brian had spent it the same way he’d spent all the other holidays they’d celebrated on the base: missing his family and wishing life could go back to the way it used to be. He’d rung in 2012 at home with his wife and children, watching the ball drop in Times Square from the comfort of their living room. Brooke and Bonnie had been allowed to stay up until midnight, hours past their usual bedtime, and they’d toasted with glasses of sparkling grape juice. This year, there was nothing on TV and no one in Times Square but the walking dead. If 2012 was the year of the apocalypse, what other horrors would 2013 have in store for them?
It was a question that was on all of their minds, but maybe, thought Brian, this would not be another year of horror, but a year of healing. The new year would be a chance for rebirth and renewal… starting with the birth of his child, the first new life born into this world of death.
Maybe Gretchen’s pregnancy was not a mistake, but a miracle.
These were the thoughts he comforted himself with, as he drifted off to sleep at her side in the early hours of the new year.
Brian woke to the sound of Gretchen getting sick. He staggered groggily out of bed and across the hall to the bathroom. The door was partway open, and peeking in, he could see Gretchen on her knees, her head bowed over the toilet. He pushed open the door and walked in, whispering her name so he wouldn’t startle her.
“I’m okay,” Gretchen said shakily, without looking up. Her fingers gripped the sides of the toilet seat, like she couldn’t decide whether to let go or not. “It’s just morning sickness again. It’ll pass.”
Brian frowned, hating to see anyone in such a state. He didn’t remember Leighanne ever being so sick; even with twins, she had sailed through her pregnancy. “Was it like this last time?” he wondered out loud.
She nodded. “Only in the first trimester. Once I got to my second trimester, I was fine. Second trimester was wonderful. Until…” She trailed off, shaking her head. Brian knelt behind her and put his hand on her back, rubbing it in slow, soothing circles until she decided she was done and climbed to her feet.
“Do you want something to eat?” he asked, as he walked her back into the bedroom they now shared.
She shook her head. “I don’t think I could keep it down.”
“Then just go back to bed and rest, until you feel better.”
He helped her back into bed and climbed in beside her, but while Gretchen pulled the covers over her head and sunk back into sleep, Brian lay awake. He stared up at the ceiling, troubled by her discomfort. He knew morning sickness was a common pregnancy symptom, but he wished there was someone on the base who could reassure him that Gretchen would be fine. Someone like Jo. He missed her now more than ever. There was no one left who knew anything about medicine or childbirth. Of them all, he and Howie had the most experience in that area, and that was a scary thought. What would they do if something went really wrong? Brian knew he had to trust in the Lord to take care of Gretchen and the baby, but he wished he could put his faith in someone a little closer to home.
After awhile, he got up again and wandered downstairs, leaving Gretchen to sleep. Nick was awake, sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of hot chocolate in his hand and his hair sticking out in all directions. “Good morning,” Brian said, smiling at the crazy hair. Nick was in need of a trim.
“Morning,” Nick grunted, grinning bleary-eyed back at Brian. “How goes it?”
“It’s goin’. Riley still asleep?”
“Yep. Gretchen too?”
“Yeah. She already got up once and got sick. She’s back in bed.”
“Aw, sorry, that sucks.”
“I know.” Brian sighed and sank into a seat across the table, raking a hand through his disheveled curls. “I dunno how I’m gonna handle eight more months of this. I’m a nervous wreck already.”
“Heh, just wait till you have to deliver your own kid.” Nick started to snicker, but stopped when he saw that Brian wasn’t smiling.
What he’d said was no joke. There was nothing funny about it; it was the frightening reality of the situation they were facing, and it scared Brian to death. “I can’t stand the thought of staying here, waiting for something bad to happen and hoping that it doesn’t,” he said, shaking his head. “We need to find help. We need to find other survivors, someone who knows something about this sort of thing.”
“Uh, we tried that, remember? It didn’t work out so well for us.”
Brian sighed. “I know. But we have to try again. We have to keep trying.”
Nick shrugged. “Talk to your cousin, man. I don’t think he’s gonna be too stoked about the idea of leaving the base again, though, considering it almost killed him last time.”
Nick was right.
“It’s not worth the risk,” Kevin said, shaking his head, when Brian repeated his suggestion of resuming the search for more survivors.
“Not worth the risk?” Brian repeated. For a few seconds, he stared at his cousin in disbelief. Then he looked around at the other three men who had gathered in Kevin’s sun-soaked kitchen, wondering why none of them were stepping up to say anything in his defense. He knew Howie wouldn’t, but what about Nick? And AJ – hadn’t he practically begged Kevin to let him come along on their last expedition?
When none of them spoke, Brian added, “We’re risking a human life by staying here! Two lives, in fact – Gretchen’s and the baby’s! How can you say they’re not worth the risk?”
Kevin frowned, a shadow darkening his face as his eyes narrowed. “You know that wasn’t what I meant. All I’m saying is, the last time we tried splitting up to look for more survivors, it was a catastrophe. We lost Jo… I almost died… AJ got injured… Nick and Riley had too many close calls to count. It’s too dangerous to try again. We’re better off sticking together and staying here, for our own survival.”
“But that’s exactly what I’m talking about – our survival. I’m just looking further into the future than you are.”
“Nine months into the future, you mean.”
Brian ignored the sarcastic comment. “How long we do you think we can actually survive here? Eventually, our resources will run out, or the zombies will break down our defenses, and we’ll be screwed.”
Kevin gave him a wry smile. “That’s a pretty pessimistic outlook, coming from someone who’s spent the last few months building walls and planting gardens to prevent those things from happening.”
Brian glared back. “Yeah, well, that’s a pretty cowardly course of action, coming from someone who used to fly military jets into war zones to fight for freedom. Are we really going to give up the fight and just hole ourselves up in here and wait for them to pick us off, one by one? We’re already down two.”
“And we won’t lose any more, as long as we stay here to protect each other.” Kevin’s voice sounded deathly calm, but his jaw was tightly clenched, and Brian could tell his last comment had touched a nerve in his cousin.
“We could lose Gretchen. Or the baby. Or both.”
Kevin nodded. “That’s a chance we have to take, but our chances are better if we stay here. We can take care of Gretchen. Women have been having babies outside hospitals since the dawn of mankind. If every baby needed a doctor to deliver it, our species would have died out a long time ago.”
Brian shook his head. “I don’t wanna take chances. Not when it comes to my child.”
“Well, Brian, it’s not like you have a choice.”
“I do have a choice. I could choose to go search for other survivors.”
Kevin raised an eyebrow. “You could, but you’re not going to. You wouldn’t leave Gretchen behind, and you wouldn’t put a pregnant woman in that kind of danger.”
Brian didn’t have an answer to that. He knew Kevin was right; he would never go off on his own, and he wouldn’t bring Gretchen along unless everyone came. Kevin was right about that, too: there was strength in numbers, and they were most vulnerable when they were separated. He should have known it would be a hard sell. Kevin clearly felt responsible for their disastrous last attempt at finding other life in the undead world, and he wasn’t willing to risk it again. He’s just willing to risk Gretchen’s life, Brian thought, feeling frustrated.
He decided to give it one more shot. “But if we all went together…”
“I’m not subjecting Gabby to that,” Kevin interrupted. “She’s been through more than enough already. She needs some stability.”
“We have a good thing going here,” Howie added, speaking for the first time in minutes. “We’re safer here than anywhere else. Why sacrifice that when we’ve never seen a sign that there are other survivors out there?”
“It can’t be just us,” Brian said, shaking his head. “It just can’t be.”
“We traveled across the entire country, Bri,” Nick put in quietly. “Howie’s right; there weren’t any signs of life. And I’ll be honest; I’m not in any hurry to go back on the road. That was some scary shit.”
“I’d go,” said AJ, “but I’m not gonna be any more useful than Gretchen and Gabby on this leg.” He patted his bad leg, which he kept in a brace. Three months after breaking it, he still wasn’t able to walk without pain and relied on crutches to get around. Brian had to concede that, in the event of a zombie attack, AJ would be in trouble. Even if he could shamble along faster than the zombies, they would catch up to him quickly as he tired and fell behind.
Brian sighed, recognizing a lost cause. “All right, so I guess we stay and pray, huh?”
“That’s all we can do,” said Kevin.
“No, that’s not all. We can try the radio again,” Howie suggested. “We haven’t done a broadcast in a long time.”
AJ scoffed. “That’s because no one responded to them, D.”
“I did,” said Howie seriously, looking over at AJ. “Kayleigh and I… we heard Kevin on the radio. That’s how we knew to come here, remember?”
Kevin smiled grimly at Howie. “That’s true. It’s worth another try. You never know – right, cous?”
Brian didn’t feel very hopeful right then, but he forced himself to nod. “Miracles do happen,” he agreed. And we could use a miracle right about now, he added in his head.
Perhaps God heard his silent prayer and, feeling merciful, finally decided to answer. Maybe it was just a coincidence. In any case, though Brian didn’t yet know it, the miracle he hoped for would come a mere two weeks into the new year.
