Nearafter (D.E.A.T.H. bk. 1)

Chapter Twenty: [Gustav]

Gustav stumbled into the living room out of breath. He collapsed on the floor, panting, with the contents of his CVS bag spilling over the carpet. The one-eyed teddy bear was sitting upright next to a pair of ice packs, staring at him with its tiny stuffed arms held wide open as if it had failed to catch him.

His bones still rattled in shock and his hands still shook as he went over all that had just happened. The sound of that man's shotgun going off still rang in his ears, the screaming, the explosion. He'd come so close. There were so many of them, and they'd come from nowhere.

Just then, half a dozen of the undead poured into the house after him and Gustav scrambled to his feet.

The doctor squirmed and fought and screamed as she was escorted into house by a pair of undead cops, sinking to the floor in defeat once she realized that she was going nowhere. She rolled over onto her back in a moment of complete hopelessness, sobbing silently, with her eyes clenched shut and her hands pulling at her hair.

"Sammy, my baby," she kept mumbling.

Gustav could do nothing but watch her. Something in his chest clenched painfully and his eyes began to water again. Watching the woman wallowing away in pain on the living room floor re-invited painful images of his own mother back into his head. Memories of when she was still alive swam through his mind like syrup, one moment blending right into the next. He remembers her reading him a bedtime story, how when she bathed him, he'd splash her with the bath water and they'd both giggle. And when she'd cook, he'd help her in the kitchen. Together they'd stand at the stove, and he'd have to stand on top of an overturned bucket so that he could drop a handful of spices into the steaming pot. He'd look to her hopefully and she's smile with motherly approval. And then she'd kneel over him, kissing his head before tucking him in. He remembers how each night she would stand in his doorway with his father... together they'd watch him sleep.

His dad. He remembered then.

Gustav snapped out of it. He recollected the medical supplies from the pharmacy, feverishly shoveling the ice packs and the syringes and the pills back into the bag. He wiped the tears from his eyes and gently nudged the woman with his foot.

"Get up," he croaked. She had work to do. "My dad," he said, reminding her.

She didn't move.

He considered yelling, raising his voice and demanding that she do as he told her. His dad's life depended on it. But he didn't. He didn't feel that anger would be the most effective course of action, considering they were currently surrounded by half a dozen of the aimless undead. Besides, he'd sapped what energy he had on the run home. He just didn't have it in him.

Instead, Gustav dropped to one knee and spoke softly. He felt sorry for the woman, he really did. He remembered that girl from the clinic. He'd thought she died like all the rest of them, but she was alive, and she was this woman's daughter. He could only imagine how she felt.

"That girl," he began, "she's your daughter?" he checked. The doctor nodded. "And you want to see her again?" he asked.

"What do you think?" she spat back. Gustav swallowed.

"Of course," he said, nodding. "Then, I'll make you a deal."

Still laying on the floor she hitched once, twice, and then sat up, wiping a bloodstained sleeve over her face. She sniffled.

"We have what you need to help my dad. You do that, and I let you go. You can be with your daughter. Deal?"

She stared at Gustav. Her eyes searched his face for some tell. Failing to detect deception, her eyes found a nearby undead woman staggering drunk down the hall. The doctor bit her lip, with her hands fidgeting in her lap. Gustav traced her gaze and reassured her.