He glances down at me and smiles, but I see the confusion and worry behind his eyes and nod slightly because this is seriously fucked up.
People continue to file in, murmuring quietly to each other as they take their seats. I studiously ignore my dead fucking heart and take in the scene, spotting David among the masses, giving him a halfhearted smile when he meets my gaze.
I’m not feeling good vibes right now, and it would probably be for the best if I were alone to process everything, which is why I glance around, debating whether I should leave, but I’m now boxed in. I don’t want to call attention to myself by trying to squeeze back through all the people now blocking my path.
The woman to my right smiles angelically at me, and I muster another smile for her, although my attempt must leave something to be desired because hers fades at the sight. Oops.
Just as my gaze inevitably travels back to Cole seated a few rows ahead of us, to the right, a man enters the room from a side door, and the sound drops in an instant. Since I skipped dinner last night, this is my first introduction to Shepherd, who’s dressed similarly to the others in jeans and a flannel shirt, with a weathered face creased in a kind smile.
Approaching the podium, he places his hands on either side of it and says in a booming voice that reverberates around the room, “Greetings, flock.”
“Greetings, shepherd of the flock,” the room says back in perfect harmony.
What? I glance around in confusion before Shepherd continues. “First, I want to welcome two new members to the flock. Lorenzo and Lola, welcome to our community.”
“Welcome,” they repeat after him.
I sort of feel like I’m at an AA meeting as everyone around me parrots his words, and believe me, I’m no stranger to it because my mother forced me to go with her when she was court-ordered to attend.
“Today, we celebrate life, the life that God has granted to us. The life that God allows us to live in this strange new world. Giving us the opportunity to right the wrongs, to battle the evil that has brought us to this place. That has allowed us to bring two new people into the safety of our thriving community.”
Fuck, we’re here for a sermon. Oh, hell no. I have zero interest in listening because my mother beat religion out of me at an incredibly young age. It’s hard to believe in God when your mom is lost in the cups and her deadbeat “suitors” are trying to get in your underage pants.
It seems everyone else is interested, though, because when I look around, I find them all hanging on Shepherd’s every word, including Cole. Huh.
“We are the sole survivors of the end of the world,” he says, slamming his hands on the pulpit. “We, you and I, oversee saving what’s left. Eradicating evil and bringing new friends into the flock, changing the world.”
I tune him out after that, lost in my head once again. I should be worrying about fitting into a new community, working among strangers, and fighting to survive, but all I can focus on is being around Cole while he plays house with someone else. I mean, seriously, how much is a girl expected to take?
Of course, I can’t just leave since danger in the face of disgusting zombies and rapey men exists around every corner. I’m stuck, once again, with my pain. Stuck with my doubts and heartache. Stuck.
Once upon a time, Cole was an unattainable crush, and then he became attainable. But I’m starting to realize that was never the case. He’s always been just out of my reach, and perhaps I should have paid more attention to the distance he continuously put between us.
Apparently, it wasn’t just grief holding him back. Fuck me.
It’s a reminder, though, that love in whatever form it’s given is not always returned, and on the other side of the equation lies heartache and the mother of all defeat. I’m not sure at this point that I have anything left to give, which is what I think my mother, however sick in her delivery, tried to teach me all those years ago. I forgot for a while, but I remember now. You can only depend on yourself, and that’s the truth of the matter.
I will survive this because I’ve come too far to lie down and die, but I will be forever changed just as each moment of our lives pushes and pulls us into a different version of ourselves.
Enzo shifts next to me, and I tune back in, in time to hear Shepherd finish. Thank fuck.
“Father, please watch over the flock. Bring them the strength they need to overcome the evil that abounds among us, to fight the urges they feel every day, and to listen to the word of the shepherd tasked with lighting the way to greatness and truth.”
I fight not to roll my eyes as everyone around me responds, “Thank you, Shepherd.”
Shepherd ends and waves us off, and I stand and follow folks down the line and out of the building, breathing in the air with relief. I didn’t realize how hot it was in there until we left.
People murmur and talk around me, and I glance back to find a woman and boy standing with Shepherd. Her head is bowed, and her hand is clenched tightly around her child. Shepherd stands over her with a stern look on his face and she nods her head at whatever he’s saying but doesn’t look at him. I frown at the sight because her posture is off. She seems cowed, but the people around them walk freely around, some even calling out greetings as they pass.
Enzo grabs my arm and encourages me to keep walking, and I glance at his face to find it hard and cold, but when I open my mouth to speak, he shakes his head.
Confused and frankly a little worried, I look forward again only to spot Cole walking with her, his hand placed once again on her lower back. With a harsh pang in my chest, I look away and resolve to steer clear of him as much as possible.
Did he ever touch me like that?
Breakfast is a loud affair that I need to become accustomed to once again, and Enzo and I wait in line for our simple meal of oatmeal before finding an out-of-the-way spot to eat. What was once a kitschy restaurant filled with 50s style red booths and old-timey memorabilia has been converted into our communal cafeteria.
Interestingly, there’s a huge wood-burning barbecue right out front, and I ponder the likelihood of ever using it again for a fucking hamburger or something equally appealing.