“I don’t fucking care,” he growls before he grabs my breast under my shirt and squeezes so roughly that I cry out.
It stings, of course, but I’ve been down this road before. I’ve had my choice stolen from me. I’ve had my body invaded and my mind broken. Enzo can’t take what’s already gone, and, at this moment, I feel none of those things. I only feel pity for Enzo because it’s taken so little for him to lose his soul. And on the wings of that, I wish the last moments of my life would not be watching him let go of the last of his humanity, but maybe there’s a lesson in this for him I don’t understand.
Maybe this is my last act of goodwill, even though I don’t fucking get it. This is why I close my eyes against the tears and whisper, “I forgive you.”
“What?” he says, freezing with his palm still on my breast.
“I forgive you, Enzo,” I breathe, flipping my eyes open and staring directly into his dark expression.
He drops his hands and steps back, staring at me with wild eyes. We stand in silence until eventually he turns and walks to the door, shutting me inside without another word.
As soon as he’s gone, I drop to the floor and sob, covering my face with my hands. This is all so fucked up, and I feel powerless. I was ready to meet my end but knowing Cole will too is un-fucking-bearable.
Rubbing my aching chest, I bite down on my fist to keep the hysterical sounds at bay, but the pain constricting my chest pulls me over, and I curl into a helpless ball. I felt so calm at the thought of dying because I thought I was doing it for someone else. I thought it was noble until Enzo told me about Cole, and now with his death, it’s all senseless, every last bit of it.
For a while, I lay on the floor and stare into nothing, my past rolling before my eyes. I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve also done good, and I wonder if any of that counts at the end, now that I’m facing it. Maybe none of it matters. Perhaps the beyond doesn’t even exist. After all, I’ve never believed before. Why should it be any different now?
The door swings open on my macabre thoughts, but I make no effort to move when Enzo stands on the threshold and says with an inscrutable expression, “It’s done.”
“What’s done?” I ask, slowly pulling myself to a sitting position.
“He’s dead, Lola. Be glad. At least he was spared the torture of the hole,” he says harshly.
Blankly, I stare at him, a hollowness in my chest, an empty space where my heart used to be.
Cole is dead. Cole is dead. Even when we weren’t together, knowing he was alive gave me a sense of peace I didn’t understand until now, when it’s gone. This is so much worse than not knowing one way or the other.
Enzo’s brows furrow and he looks away, but I don’t have the capacity to care if he’s uncomfortable, assuming he is.
I can’t feel my lips. My hands are icy cold. How I can continue to breathe, live, stare into nothing is beyond me because every part of my body feels numb.
Eventually, he raises his tortured eyes to mine and says, “I’m sorry.”
But I just stare through him, ignoring his platitudes, ignoring him until he backs out of the room once more and leaves me alone on the floor. I don’t know how long I sit in there, on the same floor that David and some unknown jerk died, but it’s long enough to convince my broken heart that I don’t want to die today. Not like this.
I may not feel like going on, but I have to.
Pulling myself from my uncomfortable crouch, I wince and walk to the window.
I could climb out. I could leave. I don’t know who’s here, and I don’t have any sense of the danger I might walk into if I do, but I also know that I won’t die here without going down without a fight.
So, I crawl through the window, landing lightly on the stones below. Behind me is the wall I climbed to spy on Shepherd. With the way the sun is positioned, I assume it’s midday, leaving me but a few hours before night falls and everything becomes that much more dangerous in the zombie fucking apocalypse.
Oh well. With a fatalistic shrug, I pad through the rocks on the side of the house before stopping at the edge and surveying my options.
The once majestic yard sports a green and mossy baby pool beside which stands a children’s playset, with a fence separating it from the properties behind. The chain-link fence is at least ten feet tall and spans two rows of houses abutting it on either side.
My only chance of survival is to escape this community altogether, and if I go up and over that fence, I will be that much closer. The settlement was created with these homes as a natural barrier and the streets between were blocked by additional fencing or rows of vehicles.
If I can crawl through yards, up over fences, and find a vulnerable area, I can escape. It’s too wide open otherwise and really, my only choice. Death or face the horrors beyond the barricade on my own, but I’ve encountered many things in my life alone, and if I have to do this, I will.
The backyard has two raised planters on each end, and the yard is on a slope, so the fence gets shorter the closer to the ground the slope gets. The planters allow for a leg up on the height challenge, so I sidle my way along the side of the yard slowly and step up into the planter.
I don’t have time for subterfuge, and I don’t think it will do me any good anyway, so I jump up onto the fence and climb, pulling my leg over as quickly as I can before dropping to the ground.
This new yard is equally quiet, with patio furniture arranged in strategic spots throughout the once abundant yard, but now weeds grow in heaps, brushing against my hips. I wade through it all and walk toward the house that, from the outside, appears empty and dark, and when I test the doors, to my relief, I find them unlocked.
The interior is cool, from the darkness enclosed inside but this will not be a respite come the summer months, although right now, with the sweat sliding down my back and face in rivulets, it feels good. I check the rooms for a bag but come up empty, and all the food and drink have long since been found and taken.