Darkest Days: A Southern Zombie Tale Read Online Free Page B

right up to her. She was shy, I could tell. I asked her who she was waiting for. She said that her friends had left her and she was looking for someone she knew to pick her up. I said ‘Well, you don’t know me but I’ll take you anywhere you need to go.’ She said that she’d never been on a motorbike before. I told her ‘I’ve never had a girl as pretty as you on my bike before.’ I didn’t have two helmets so I let her wear the one in my travel bag. I never used it anyway. I blinked and two years had gone by. Your mom told me that I could ride away if I felt the call of the road again, but every time I drove away, my hog pointed right back to Fayette.” Bryant’s dad would bounce him on his knee and finish the story with “We had you, and looking down into that crib, I understood that everything I was searching for was right here.”
    Bryant remembered the ritual well. He also remembered his mother’s fear that one weekend Dad would take his bike out on a regular Saturday drive and never come back. She was right, but not in the way that she thought. One nondescript afternoon in the thirteenth year of Bryant’s life, a distracted motorist nudged Mr. Allens’ bike off the road. A few hours later in the Fayette emergency room, the loving father breathed his last, leaving a grieving mother and a confused boy. That unabashedly happy smile would never adorn that man’s face again except in still, lifeless photographs from a less sorrowful time.
    Bryant wiped gathering moisture away from his eyes and parked his truck. Glancing at the trademarked red roof of his destination, he decided that he wasn’t hungry. A nauseous feeling turned his stomach bitter towards a normally delectable dish.
    Without enthusiasm, he unbuckled and trotted up to the door. Peering through the glass, he discovered that the lobby was crowded with families sitting around steaming pans of pizza. Saturday night was not the best time to try for a family restaurant, but he decided to risk it. He had wasted too much time to go elsewhere. He stepped inside and caught the smell of mozzarella and tomato sauce. As his mouth watered due to the olfactory input, he decided that he might be hungry after all.
    A portly woman adorned in a red and black uniform stepped up to the counter. “What’s the name?” She pleasantly asked.
    “Actually, I need to place an order to go.” Bryant responded.
    “Okay, shoot.” She pulled a notepad and pen from the pocket of her apron.
    “Personal Pan, Italian sausage.” He quickly rattled off.
    “Give us about fifteen minutes.” Then she disappeared into the back of the restaurant.
    The jingle of a bell turned Bryant’s head. Looking at the entrance, he smiled. Cara stood in front of him with a look of surprise. “Not you.” She poked out her lower lip in a pout that Bryant found adorable.
    The smitten young man couldn’t speak for a moment. Cara scowled at him during the silence. “What’s the matter? Is your mind as slow as your Southern drawl?”
    Bryant’s smile faded and he shrugged. “You were cute up until you opened your mouth.” He turned and held his head high as he found an empty booth away from her. He had been attracted to her ever since the first moment he saw her, but she insisted on being a “my accent means I’m smarter than you” snob. Fine, if she was like that, it was her loss. Bryant did not believe in forcing his company on anyone and, when around people he did not care for, became extremely reserved. He had too much dignity to throw himself at people that didn’t care whether or not he was present. However, her slight did hurt, and he nursed his newest pain, wondering if he would be able to eat.
    Cara watched him walk away and felt as if her legs had been kicked out from under her. He had greeted her with a smile and she had launched into an unprovoked attack. With a pang of regret, she turned from his retreating back and faced the counter. The look on his face bothered her.