Don't Whistle Past the Graveyard

Ch. Thirty-Six

Danielle and I set up watch in the kitchen, the modest windows giving us a clear enough view as the world outside fell dark, the night shrouded in the unique stillness of snow. For a long time, we just watched as the flakes swirled down to the ground, drifting higher and higher as the clock ticked.

I didn't really know what to say. Like I said at the start, 'what happened to you' is the most ridiculous question you can ask.

The zombie apocalypse. That's what freaking happened.

Danielle seemed to know, though, and said, "I was in Philadelphia when it happened. As soon as I saw reports of the overflow in the hospitals I just got the feeling that staying in the city would be bad for my health."

I huffed out a laugh, eyes still glued to the window, half of me wondering what we would do during a bad snow storm now. We had food for probably about three days if we went easy on the rations.

Danielle stretched, and I propped my feet up on the window sill, waiting. She tapped her hand against the chair, and I looked over, startled when I heard the chink of metal on wood. I hadn't noticed her ring before.

I wasn't going to ask. If the other half of that ring wasn't here, then there was really only one reason why.

Danielle looked down at the ring, chewing on her lower lip. "He was on a business trip."

"Are you looking?" I asked quietly. When she didn't answer, I said, "If you want to..." I hesitated. I shouldn't be making promises by myself. But I did anyway. Finishing, I said, "We'll go with you. If you want."

Danielle looked over at me, a small, sad smile playing around her full lips. "He was in New York. The last thing I saw on the TV was them firebombing the streets. The city was decimated."

I just nodded. There was absolutely nothing to say.

'I'm sorry' is one of the most inadequate phrases in the history of mankind and I wasn't going to try and tie this up in a neat little two-word bow. Danielle shook her head. "Our marriage wasn't the best, but I loved him anyway."

We let the snow-hushed silence build between us again. Then Danielle asked, "Are you looking for someone?"

I smiled softly and pointed upstairs. "Anyone I would miss is here."

Danielle tried to smile, but it didn't quite work, and I tried to feel horrible, but I couldn't. I felt bad for Danny, but there is no point in feeling guilt over what you have and she wasn't trying to make me feel that way.

Instead, she asked, "Did you know him before?"

I laughed again. "I was a physical therapist before all this. He was one of my patients."

Danielle managed a somewhat naughty grin. "He doesn't look like just a patient."

I shrugged. Then, with another laugh I said, "Ironically, the zombie apocalypse probably saved me from some kind of reprimand and/or punishment where my job and Shane were concerned."

Danielle finally laughed, then switched gears on me. "No wonder you were so... irked at Mel."

Now I frowned. "Irked is one word for it." I sighed and said, "It's not so much the 'who's more qualified thing'. It's—"

"The fact that Sacha is one of yours and she's not," Danielle said for me, interrupting, and I nodded.

With another shrug I said, "I mean, yeah. I do have more qualifications. I know more than your average bear about emergency medicine and," I paused, waving my hand toward the window, indicating the world in general, "this whole shit show has given me quite the crash course in all sorts of fun injuries. But you're right. Even if she had been, say, an ER doc, I still wouldn't have liked it."