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The end of the world was a good time to be alone.
Joel had tried it before, the people. The groups. The connection, the belonging.
The betrayal. The loss.
He had tried it before and came to the logical conclusion that life was simply better alone. Less people to worry about--yes, there were less people to appreciate his genius and handsomeness, but too much exposure to that couldn’t be good for people. Besides, that group who had set up just over the hill was obsessed enough with him already.
No, being alone was for the best. He had a house, a large, sprawling building that used to be a farmhouse in the Before days. It was formidable enough, and what hadn’t been Joel had shored up. His nearest neighbours were the trio across the way--maybe less than a days walk. (Less on horseback, but Joel didn’t trust horses. He’d leave that to them.)
That was how life had been for years, and that was how Joel liked it. He built--fortifying his house, setting up new wings, cutting down trees to carve into parts of the wall around his house. He hunted, gun over his shoulder, traps spreading out in the forest near the back of what he had come to claim has his property. He farmed, a small garden set up in the eaves of his house, giving him enough food to survive comfortably.
Alone, as it should be.
And then everything went very wrong
He was checking on his snares in the forest when a sound caught his attention. He paused, shrugging the gun off his shoulder as he crouched near the trap he was resetting.
He’d been in these woods enough to recognise what sounds were out of place, and that definitely was one--a soft, low, almost human gurgle. Used-to-be human might be a better description.
He stayed quiet, hoping that it would pass him by. Zombies operated more on sight and sound, so often staying still and silent one could avoid one. Unfortunately, this one decided to wander directly into Joel’s line of sight.
He gritted his teeth, slowly raising his gun to sight on it. Better to take it out immediately before it could get out a message to the rest of the hoard--but that would only buy him a little time. The sound would attract anything in the near vicinity.
The zombie saw him, letting out the high pitched, strained growl Joel had come to recognize as a calling sound. He didn’t hesitate--he cut the sound off with his own deafening blast from the gun in his hand.
The zombie dropped, finding it rather hard to stay standing without a head. Joel moved as well, standing and running through the trees. Now he needed to get back inside the walls of his homestead, where the walls would keep them out.
It was a race; zombies vs man. He could outrun most of them, but if one was nearby there were always more. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the gurgling growl of zombies started echoing through the forest. Joel gripped his gun and focused on running.
“Don’t be so eager,” he muttered under his breath. The call from a nearby zombie changed as it caught sight of him, and Joel felt the familiar thump of fear. He leapt a fallen log and stumbled, waving his hand slightly to regain his balance.
A zombie stepped out of the trees in front of him and he cursed, darting to the side just away from its lunging hand. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of its face--a woman, once.
Not anymore, he told himself, and dodged around a tree, branches scratching across his face.
He had almost made it to the edge of his forest, the walls of his home just up ahead when his foot caught on a root. He went down, gun spilling from his hands. Instinctively, he scrambled for it, ignoring the sharp pain in his ankle.
Three zombies emerged from the forest, and another was coming towards him across the more open ground towards his wall. Joel managed to snatch up his rifle and spin it towards one, firing even as he tried to scramble to his feet.
The pain through his foot caused his aim to dip, and he cursed again. He would not die so close to home! That would just be stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Pain scored across his arm as a zombie clawed at him and he went down again. His head slammed against a rock and the world swam.
But he still had grip of his rifle and he fired again, the knockback slamming his shoulder into the ground and causing his head to spin even more. He really didn’t want to die here, so he rolled to one side, fighting down nausea and narrowly missing the death sentence of zombie teeth in his shoulder.
A gunshot echoed through the world and one of the zombies dropped beside Joel. He rolled again, pushing himself back with his good foot and took out another one. The last few were turning--someone new had entered the fight.
Joel got one more shot off before he couldn’t stay upright anymore and collapsed back. For a moment, he lay there, the whole world spinning and unfocused. No more zombies were trying to take a piece of him so he decided just to lie there.
Then an angel appeared in his vision.
She was framed by the blue sky above her, looking down at him with a concerned expression. There was a splatter of blood across her cheek, and pink ribbons were woven into her hair.
“Hi,” Joel said.
Then he promptly rolled over and vomited onto the grass at her feet.
~*~
There were voices in his house. It was a very novel experience, waking up in his room and hearing muted conversation through the walls. For a moment, Joel just lay there, allowing himself to readjust to being conscious.
He vaguely remembered the zombies the day before and the two strangers who had come to his rescue. Brother and sister, they said. He couldn’t quite remember their names, or if they’d even shared them. He’d let them lead him back into the walls because he hadn’t been feeling his usual self and it sounded like they were still here.
Groggily, he pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. He waited to see if his head would start spinning, but beyond a background headache it seemed manageable. So he stood up, stumbled as pain shot through his ankle and steadily himself. Once the main faded to a manageable throbbing he limped his way towards the voices in his kitchen.
Laughter greeted him as he entered the room. For a moment, the sound stopped him in the doorway and he took in the scene.
Two people sat at his kitchen table--a younger man who had a long suffering expression on his face, stammering protests. Opposite him sat the angel Joel had seen last night--a woman with dancing mischievousness in her eyes as she laughed.
“Lizzie!” the man protested, crossing his arms and glaring at her.
“Oh come on,” she said. “Just because you can’t out run a zombie.”
“It was one time! And I got taken by surprise.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t get bitten.”
Joel didn’t follow what they were talking about, but for a moment he found himself transfixed by the scene. The friendly laughter, the genuine care in their expressions. It had been a long time since he had experienced that, and something in him ached.
(But he didn’t need people why would he why would he he was fine on his own always had been.)
“Oh! Our host is here.” The woman noticed him and jumped up from her seat, hurrying to Joel’s side. “How are you feeling?”
Joel blinked, his entire attention taken up by the way she gently grabbed his arm and let him towards the table. The contact was warm, electrifying and he pulled away from it.
The absence of her touch left him oddly cold as he sat down at the kitchen table, relaxing slightly as he took weight off his foot.
“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” he asked.
“Because you have a concussion,” the other man said. “Tends not to be good for your health.”
“You’d know,” the woman said. She sat back in her seat (Joel’s seat, thank you very much. That she was using) and ignore him protesting again. “I’m Lizzie, by the way. I don’t think we had proper introductions last night. That’s my little brother Jimmy.”
“I’m not little!” Jimmy objected.
“You’ll always be my baby brother,” Lizzie said cheerfully. Jimmy groaned dramatically.
“Joel,” Joel said as way of introduction. He wasn’t sure if it was the concussion or the sudden presence of people in his dining room, but he was struggling to follow the conversation. “Why are you here?”
“We were passing through, aiming for one of the more built up cities in the North,” Jimmy said.
“And we just happened to pass through at the right time--I’m glad we did!” Lizzie added.
“No why--why are you still here?” Joel asked.
“Because we didn’t want to leave while you were hurt,” Lizzie said simply. Joel eyed for a long moment, wondering what her ulterior motive was.
“Well, as you can see, I’m fine now absolutely fine. So you can leave now.”
“Dude, you have a concussion,” Jimmy said, leaning back in his seat and glaring at Joel. Joel glared right back. His head was hurting, but what he really wanted for that was to get rid of his unwanted guests and go back to bed.
“Not the first I’ve had and probably not the last,” Joel shot back. He crossed his arms. “I’m fine. Leave now.”
“Alright,” Lizzie said. She stood, studying him with an odd expression. “Walk us to the door then.”
“If it’ll get you to leave.”
He stood up and winched as his headache intensified at the movement and his ankle protested painfully. But Lizzie was still looking at him with a smug expression and he pushed through it, guiding them towards the front door with only a little bit of a limp.
It was a lot brighter out here. He fought down a noise of pain as the sunlight assaulted his eyes when he opened the door.
“There,” he said. “Now get out of here.”
“We’re still in your walls,” Lizzie pointed out.
“She does have a point,” Jimmy added.
Joel glared at them both. The walk to the gate in his wall seemed extremely far away, but anything to get a little peace. So he stepped forward, bracing himself to walk to the door.
He didn’t make it down the front steps. His ankle gave out and the world spun dramatically and he was swallowing down nausea again. Jimmy caught him, lowering him to the ground before he could collapse fully.
Joel kept his eyes shut and leaned away from the uncomfortably present touch of Jimmy bracing him.
“Ooh, sorry, you didn’t quite make it. Guess we’re staying,” Lizzie said cheerfully.
“I’m sending you back to bed,” Jimmy added, pulling Joel up to stand again. Joel squinted his eyes open again to meet Lizzie, grinning proudly at him. He glared at her.
But he let Jimmy help him back inside and pulled away once the door was shut behind him. Once again, he felt the absence of the touch almost as much as the touch itself.
He had to admit they had a point--with the state he was in, he couldn’t make them leave even if he wanted to. As much as he hated it, he was stuck with his unwanted guests until he was well enough to chase them away properly.
Hopefully that would only be a few days at the most.
Three years later, surrounded by the glow of preciously rationed candles brought out for the occasion, with Jimmy and their neighbours as witness, Joel and Lizzie exchanged rings and made a lifelong commitment to each other.