After an hour, the adults were all well on their way to being wasted, and the kids gorging on the last bits of the cake. Even Wyatt was ripping it up on the dance floor. A chair confined Sheri was sitting a few tables away from us with various people, staring longingly at the crowd. Her healing kidney keeping her from joining in. Ethan mentioned that Oscar had released her from bed rest starting today as long as she stayed in the wheel chair.
Colin had finally gotten around to asking Chloe to dance and currently they were on the dance floor looking as rigid as possible. Ethan was sitting beside me, his arm draped over my chair. He pointed with the hand that had his drink in it to the pair.
"I'm not goin' to have'ta get the shotgun, am I?" he slurred.
"This here's my daughter," I said in my poor excuse for a southern accent, then burst into laughter.
At Ethan's offended look, I said, "Calm down, I told Colin to ask her to dance. She's totally got a little crush on him." I looked down into my empty cup, I needed more drink!
"You need a refill?" Ethan knocked our cups together. "'Cause I need one."
"If you're offering." I handed my cup to him, watching him stumbled a little as he got up.
Roy was currently talking to one of the Hargrove people and Amanda running around with some of the other kids. Zoe had dragged a tipsy Darren into the crowd of dancers, leaving me now alone at the table. Temporarily drink-less. I lifted my head as shouting just barely made it to my ears over the music. There seemed to be a scuffle going on, people now trying to get out of the way.
Byron and Darren managed to burst out of the crowd rolling and punching at each other. I flew from my chair, the alcohol making me regret my hasty action. I hadn't drank this much to cut loose since Mardi Gras – drinking half a bottle of Jack back at the cabin didn't count as cutting loose.
Zoe was watching them with one hand cupped over mouth.
"What happened?" I asked, having to yell over the music.
"Byron was getting a little handsy and Darren shoved him, then they just started fighting."
I was going to try to help break it up, but Wyatt and a drunk Ethan moved in before I could. Wyatt grabbed Byron, whom he towered over, but that didn't stop Byron from struggling. Ethan fought to restrain a still swinging Darren and get some space between the two.
"What in God's name is going on? This is supposed to be a happy occasion!" Wyatt chastised.
"This asshole needs to keep his hands to himself," Darren said through heaving breaths.
They started each other down as they caught their breath. Neither were badly beaten up. The fight had been stopped before any real damage had been done.
"I ain't done nothin' wrong," Byron said.
"You both are going to have to leave the party if you can't contain yourselves," Wyatt said.
"I good, I good," Byron said as he held his arms up.
Ethan let Darren go, and he just stormed out, not bothering to reply. Wyatt quickly loosen his grip on Byron, who grinned his wide-mouth grin. "Let's get da music goin' 'gain!"
Luckily people were drunk enough that getting back to the party wasn't as awkward as it could have been. Slowly, people started dancing again as the fight was forgotten to give room for the rest of good times. Wyatt walked away, with Byron in tow.
"I should go check on him," Zoe said, sullen. So she left the clubhouse to talk Darren down from whatever mountain he was on.
I still wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but booze always fueled these types of situations. The music switched to a slower number, replacing the fast beat with a piano melody.
"If the mood's not ruined, wanna dance?" Ethan held you a hand for me.
"Why not?" I took his hand and we strolled onto the dance floor.
I put my arms around his neck and he placed his around my waist. I felt like I was back at one of my middle school dances. We swayed for bit, but the rising temperature in the room was starting to get to me; and my worrying for John. They still hadn't returned. I knew they liked to go as far away as possible for the gun training, but this was ridiculous. Nighttime was the worst time to be driving around, all the dangers amplified by the darkness.
"I need to get some fresh air," I said, my lips at Ethan's ear.
He pouted. "You wanna end the party so soon?"
"No, fool. I just need some air. You going to be fine without me for a few minutes?"
Ethan pursed his lips. "I dunno."
I dislodged myself from our slow dancing, shoving him towards the table where Chloe was back sitting at.
"Go take care of your sister in the meantime."
"Pushy," Ethan said with a shake of his head.
The cool night air hit my face as soon as I stepped outside. I wiped the sweat from my forehead – it really had been boiling in there. The pathway's leading to the clubhouse were lined with solar lights, illuminating the way. I followed the one that lead to the well-kept garden tucked behind the building. There was a single white bench along the path that I plunked myself down on. Thanks to the fresh air and short stroll, the effects of the alcohol was starting to lessen.
I had been sitting for a whole three minutes when I heard the familiar squeal of the rusted hinges on the front gate. Please let that be John. I ran back along the path, almost tripping over one of the solar lights. Maybe I wasn't becoming as sober as I thought I was.
Two vehicles poured into Hargrove. Since everyone was at the celebration, the opening and closing of the gate was left to the two guards normally posted at their towers. A spot light was shining down just above the gate, making it look like dramatic stage production. They quickly closed the gate, kicking back at a couple of infected trying to sneak in. Once the gate was latched, they ran back up their post to shoot the infected they had booted out.
I watched the people get out of the vehicles. My breath caught as I spotted a tired looking John get out of one of the driver's seats. I ran over to him.
"You sure took your sweet time," I said as soon as I was close enough.
I had to dodge around Grant who didn't even acknowledge my presence.
"Me? What 'bout you and your excursion with Darren?" John said, giving me a hug.
I scrunched my noise; he smelt terrible.
"You need a bath, bad."
He let out a tired laugh. "We picked the wrong spot to stop. There was like an army of infected. Grant shot one too close to me and it splattered all over me." He glared when he said Grants name.
"What till I tell you what I fell in during my trip."
I walked with John back to his condo, to find a lonesome Zoe sitting on the couch sniffling. John raised a brow, but I told him showering was the best thing he could do at the moment. I sat down beside her.
"What's wrong?"
"Darren wouldn't talk to me. He just paced angrily before taking off."
"Where too?"
"I don't know."
She gave a big sniff. I looked around for tissues, but found none. I got up and grabbed a questionable napkin from their kitchen counter and gave it to her. Not caring that it may have been used, Zoe wiped at her teary eyes.
"He just needs to cool off," I said breezily.
"You're probably right. He was just so mad when Byron started grabbing me."
"Byron grabbed you?"
"Well, more like groped. You know, like a drunk guy at a bar would do."
And I thought we had left those days behind us.
"You just get all the guys, don't you?"
Zoe let out a laugh. "What was it you used to tell me? I'd end up in a ditch one day?"
I laughed with her. "Only if your taste in men didn't change."
"Looks like that won't happen," she mumbled.
"Darren's...not like the others," I said. I couldn't believe I was defending him, but here I was. I got to see another side to him during our trip and it definitely improved my opinion of him.
"Everything okay?" John asked when he reappeared all cleaned up.
"Yeah, Darren just got into a fight with Byron at the party and went to cool off," I said.
"So they had that weddin', then?"
I shifted my jaw; even John knew about it.
"It's still going on if you want to hit up the celebration," I said, not really wanting to return.
"Sure. I could use some food."
After his admission about a drinking problem, I wasn't sure if being around drunks would be an issue or not. But he would know his limits best. I would just have to discreetly keep an eye on him all while he was probably keeping an eye on me, watching for signs of another breakdown.
"You want to come back too?" I asked Zoe.
She shook her head. "I'm just going to turn in."
I placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "If you change your mind, you know where we'll be."
"So, how'd your trip go?" John asked, a little too aloof, as we walked toward the pulsating clubhouse.
At this rate they were going to bring in infected by the droves. Wyatt didn't seem concerned; he was more worried about keeping the drinks flowing. Knowing I would probably have to help with fighting the infected off, I made decision that I would be sticking to non-alcoholic drinks for the rest of the night. Fighting while hungover would suck.
"Good, found a stowaway."
John's head knocked back. "What?"
"We brought back a teenager, Colin. He was all by himself in the middle of the city. You'll notice him right away – he's the one with the blue hair."
By now it was early into the morning hours. No longer were there kids running about inside, most must have been ushered back to their beds. Adults were passed out in chairs and tables despite the continuing music. The dance floor crowd had lessened, but there were still a dedicated bunch grinding and swaying drunkenly refusing to let the party end. Wyatt was among those few, like he was trying to prove a point.
John went to scrape up what was left of the buffet while I went to our table to poke Colin, who was currently passed out face first onto the table. I ruffled his hair.
"Hey kid, that one drink do you in?"
"Uhhhh," was his muffled reply.
He stirred, slowly sitting upright, looking like death warmed over. I couldn't help it – I laughed.
"Darren told you to stick to one drink." So much for Darren keeping an eye on him.
"I only had a couple more," he said, his eyes losing focus. He really didn't look good.
"You want a hand back to the condo? It's got to be like two in the morning."
John choose that moment to sit down with his plate of scraps.
"You all right, son?"
Colin squinted at John. "John Wayne! I love your movies!"
John choked on his first bite.
"Don't mind him, he's drunk," I said patting Colin's head like a puppy.
Colin brows furrowed as he swatted away my hand.
"When John's done eating, we'll drag your carcass back to my condo."
"I'm not a carcass – yet," he said cryptically.
I digested his words as drunk banter. There was one guy we used to go to bars with back in university and as soon as he got a couple drinks in him, he turned into a giant downer.
"Have you seen Ethan?" I asked. I looked around but none of the dancing or passed out bodies belonged to him.
"He took Chloe home," Colin said, swaying in his seat. "I don't think you were right about Chloe, she didn't say one word hardly."
Clearly, he knew nothing about little girls. Sheri wheeled over to our table.
"Glad to see you both made it back okay," she said to both John and I. I nodded in answer.
"What are you still doin' up, girl? You should be in bed restin'," John chastised.
Sheri waved her hand like she was swatting a fly. "Been cooped up in that clinic for days, I needed a break. Besides, I got my trusty wheel chair. Seem to have lost my motor though."
I assumed by motor, she meant Crystal. Sheri looked at the spaced out Colin.
"You need a lift?"
"Depends, how fast can that thing go?"
"As fast as Crystal pushes it." Sheri grinned.
"Man, I must looked wrecked," Colin muttered. "Everyone's trying to get me to go to bed."
"Then maybe you should listen," I said.
Colin sighed. "Fine, let's go."
"I ain't done eatin' yet," John protested.
"That can't be very good." I peered at the cold, harden food that remained. "It's been out for hours."
"Better than nothin'." He had a point.
We patiently waited for John to finish his block of food. Colin's eyes started drooping, making him look like he was sleeping upright. Reminded me of when my uncle would inevitably pass out in the lounge chair every time there was a family dinner. All of us kids used to paint his face with our cheap makeup sets. He would wake up bellowing, but it was hard to be scared when he was wearing three layers of blush and sparkly blue eyeshadow.
John got up and tossed out his empty paper plate. "Let's go. You too, missy." He pointed to Sheri.
"Fine," she grumbled. "Let me find Crystal first."
Sheri wheeled off slowly. She kind of veered off to the side, before she got her baring trying to steer the chair. Perhaps one of us should have offered to help. Crystal was chatting with one of the guards that had been on rotation before Sheri grabbed a handful of her shirt at waist level – it was all she could reach. Crystal said some words to the guy she was talking to, before pushing Sheri back to us.
"Some nurse I am," Crystal said when they met us at the door.
Together, we carried the wheel chair with Sheri in it down the steps, then I helped a stumbling Colin down them. He almost took me down, when he leaned his entire six foot tall frame on me.
"John!" I yelled as we headed for the ground.
John grabbed the falling tree trunk that was a drunk Colin. "I got 'em."
"Thanks John Wayne – Where's your horse?"
"I'm gunna ignore that 'cause your drunk," John said.
We must have looked like quite the group. One gangly drunk teen and a girl in a wheel chair walking down the cul-de-sac at night. Thanks to the solar lights plunked along the sidewalks, we could see where we were going.
"Hey, you guys see that, too?" I felt Sheri yank me to a stop.
"What?"
"Something moving behind those bushes." She pointed to a tall set of shrubs across the street that appeared to be moving slightly. It was hard to tell with just the street lights. I started toward it when John hissed, "What're you doin'? You have your weapon on you?"
I wasn't sure how wedding's worked here in the South, but I'm pretty sure you weren't supposed to be armed at a wedding. I shook my head.
"Come grab mine." John jerked his head. Looks like he didn't obey the Hargrove's rule of being unarmed either.
He produced a handgun from his waistband, before giving Colin a heft. He was starting to slip off of John's shoulders.
"Let me set down the kid and I'll back you."
"If it was an infected, it probably would have stumbled out by now."
I ignored John's protests and hurried across the street, with his gun in hand. I flipped off the safety and pulled the slide back to chamber a round. Maybe one of the chickens had escaped again, or more than likely, a drunk villager had fallen over, but there was no harm in being cautious.
I approached the hedges and peered over using what limited light I had. What I saw made me drop my arms, the gun forgotten at my side. My heart lurched as my brain recognized the matted blond hair on the ground. I staggered forward, ignoring the prickly bush scrapping at my arms. No, please no.
My mouth gapped open. Someone was kneeling over a very dead Darren, their arms pumping back and forth like they were sawing plywood. They stilled as they realized I was there, whirling around, the knife in their hand ready to go. It was Byron. He was covered in so much blood that it looked like he had rolled around in it. It was sprayed onto his face in a menacing mask of red. I raised the gun just as he started to come toward me.
"Don't fucking move!" I yelled, the gun aimed right between his eyes. He stilled once again, his eyes baring into my own.
"Now come, cher. I can explain dis." The dim street light reflected the metallic glint of the blood stained knife clutched in his guilty hand.
"Bailey!" John barreled through the bushes behind me. "What the – holy shit."
John was a smart man, he put two and two together pretty quickly.
"You're the asshole goin' 'round killin' when we got enough shit to worry 'bout," John said through clenched teeth.
"Dis looks pretty bad, I'll say dat," Byron said.
My eyes slipped back to Darren's lifeless corpse. His head was barely attached, his mouth hanging open like he was letting out a silent scream. Byron must have been trying to decapitate him. Poor, poor, Darren. My friend was dead.
That was a brutal way to go; apocalypse or not. This was the most gruesome thing I had ever seen; that list growing longer every day. Not two hours ago he had been at the party, now he was dead – at the hands of this psycho.
I cocked the gun, readying to pull the trigger, my fingers no longer ruled by my brain. What was going to happen to Zoe? This would destroy her. I had to avenge my friend, Darren would have wanted that.
"No, Bailey! It's not your place to punish him. We'll decide as a group what to do," John said a few steps from me.
The gun vibrated in my hand, demanding it's pound of flesh. An eye for an eye and all that. John didn't make a move to stop me. He wasn't trying to restrain me, he was silently telling me it was my choice. But neither choice would leave me fulfilled. Kill Byron, or leave him to the mercy of the community. Who was I to play executioner? I had done it before and all it left me with was nightmares and guilt. It would make me no better than Byron in the end.
"Drop the knife," I demanded.
Byron cocked his head, as if testing the waters. I didn't have to kill him, but I could still make him pay. I aimed lower, and before he could move, I shot his leg just above the kneecap. He screamed in agony as he dropped to the ground, his leg giving out. John burst from my side and kicked away the murder weapon, and then rolled Byron onto his front, gathering his hands. John looked up at me and nodded.
He was glad I didn't kill Byron. What John didn't know, was how badly I wanted to.
Alerted by the gun shot from within the walls, two of the guards joined us, stopping in their tracks when they spotted Darren's corpse.
"What's going on?" the taller one asked.
"We caught the killer," John said, jerking his head toward the body underneath him.
I walked over to where Darren was lying and kneeled down.
"Rest in peace, friend." And I closed his eyes for good.