Seldom Six Feet Under

Chapter Five: You Can't Save Everyone

          The streets were littered with infected that had been summoned by the earlier sound of gunfire further down the block. They were all stumbling around, yelling, and hollering at one another. Ruby liked to think that they were trying to talk to one another. Something along the lines of, "I'm hungry!", "I heard gunshots!", "I need to puke!", "This sucks on ice!" She'd try her best not to giggle at such thoughts, trying to remind herself that they were once people. She still felt a little guilt in having to kill them, even if it was a kill or be killed situation. For that, Allen was proud. When he first found out, he told her that it made her human. He said feelings like that made her a human being and it was valid. However, talk like that was too sappy for him so he didn't finish his thought nor bring it up again.

      But what she found funny was that less than a day later, they had found Noah on top of that dumpster, swatting away at the dead with his bloodied skateboard, calling out to them for help. But Allen didn't want to help. He wanted to leave him there for bait. Ruby was tempted to slap him into the right mind. Allen saw this kid as stupid, especially after he thought a firework wouldn't draw the attention of the dead. Allen yelled and cursed at the boy, making sure to remind him about a dozen times about how pathetic and idiotic he was. Poor Noah was terrified as the older male towered over him and screamed in his face. It totally caught him off guard, he was afraid Allen was going to strangle him, which was a great first impression. Allen was red in the face, teeth gritted, and fists clenched. Not even Ruby had been prepared for it. She was just glad that they were somewhat decent to one another now.

      All of this made Ruby brood over the day's earlier excitement. She was sitting upon the ledge once again, peering over below at the gathering infected. She lifted her head towards the troubled man, who was back in his beach chair. He had a rag in one hand and his rifle in the other. He was polishing it even though it was already squeaky clean. The two adolescents were convinced that Allen had long married the rifle, certain that he called that rifle his wife. Almost never did he let it out of his sights unless going to the bathroom. Ruby couldn't help but smirk at the thought of the rifle in a wedding veil, making its way down the aisle with a newly groomed Allen at the other end, tearing up at its beauty. At the barrel of the gun, the stems of roses would be placed inside with the petals protruding. She could see herself as the bridesmaid, standing off to the side waiting patiently for their vows.

      Both knew, however, that this was just a silly fantasy. Upon their first meeting, Noah had asked Allen all kinds of questions, wanting to get to know this troubled man. One of the questions had something to do with family.

   "You have any kids? A wife? A girlfriend? ... A boyfriend?"

      Noah was immediately shut down and yelled at to stop talking, which gave him the impression that either something terrible happened or he was just a loner who couldn't stand such romantic interaction. At first, he was worried that he flipped out about the mention of a boyfriend, hoping Allen wasn't against that. But he was just the latter.

      Allen couldn't stand Noah and his ambitious behavior. He was overzealous and there was no doubt about it. He never usually let it get to him, but this time it was different. Someone- a stranger- was dead, and two more were held captive somewhere in the city. Taking a deep breath in decree, she slid off the ledge onto the rooftop, making her way to the staircase. Allen glanced up from the corner of his eye to watch her go, but just returned to polishing his prized possession.

      She skipped down the stairs to their floor, walking down the hall to Noah's closed room. She stopped at the door and knocked a couple times. There was a slight shuffling inside that caught her attention enough to press her ear against the door.

   "Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin," Noah grouched, his voice a melancholic tone. Ruby snickered silently and turned the knob, peeking her head in through the door.

      Reclined on the couch, the boy turned his head to look at her, a small grin formed on his lips. "Oh. Just you, heh," he motioned her over. "Come in."

      She pushed the door open further, slipping in between the frame and the door and grinning back at him. He turned his head forwards again, picking at the dirt underneath his fingernails. Ruby stepped to his side, nudging him.

   "If it's lunch time, let Allen know I'm not hungry," he breathed out, not looking up from the muck on his fingertips. She shook her head, turning and sitting down beside him on the edge of the couch. Only then did he glance up at her for a short period, grin long dissipated by then.

      They locked eyes for a couple seconds that seemed to drag with every breath. Noah eventually broke that gaze, clearing his throat. He reached up and took off his cap, running his hands through his buzzed cut.

   "So what do you make of all this?" He asked, breaking the silence. "The survivors, I mean. You know, the ones we let die."

      Ruby frowned at him, shaking her head and turning away. Her gaze drifted off to the kitchen. Something on the table there caught her eye and she couldn't resist the urge to stand and check. Noah sat up and slid off the couch, watching her go. On the table was a map of the city, certain areas circled in thick red ink from a magnum sharpie. Her eyes darted around the map, recognizing one of the circled areas as home. Other places in the city were labelled, too. Routes to take in the direction the military trucks rolled off to. Noah walked over, hunching over the map and picking up the magnum sharpie from beside it, tapping the end of it on a hospital.

   "I think they went here," he announced. "To the hospital. I've been past it a couple times. It's all fenced up."

      Ruby stared at him in disbelief. He met her gaze and shrugged. "Just saying," She spun back to the map, running her finger along the line he drew as one of the routes, eyes narrowing as they averted back to him.

      He followed her finger. "I'm not giving up on them, you know," he insisted. "And if you won't come with me, I'll happily go by myself. I'll bring them back on my own." She gently shoved at his shoulder, motioning to her temple, twirling her index finger in a circle motion.

   "I don't care if it sounds crazy or is crazy," he hissed. "You know what they are capable of. And you're willing to sit back and let that happen again? To strangers?"

      Ruby's face flushed red, just barely softer than her hair dye. She reached over, violently snatching the marker from his grasp and uncapping it. She marched off towards an unoccupied wall across from the sofa and lifted her arm to write,

      YOU CAN'T SAVE EVERYONE

      Noah watched as she inked these words into the shell white wall. He registered her message and only saw betrayal. She spun back around to him, gesturing towards her words. He swallowed hard, nodding slowly. Bitterness began to seep into his heart and in his face. His expression turned to stone and he lowered it to the ground to try to cover it. His beautifully chartreuse colored eyes were now dull and lost. As desolate and full of flaw as he was, all he could do was turn his head back up to her and nod.

   "I get it now," he croaked out in a broken voice. Trembling lips shaped into a pout. He motioned towards the door. "You don't have to stay. I'll be alright."

      Ruby swept past him to put the magnum sharpie back down on the kitchen table, taking the map and folding it up neatly. He slowly spun on his heel to watch her through a gentle blur. She forced a smile on him when she gave one to start. She strolled over, patting his naked shoulder before heading for the door. He silently watched her as she disappeared into the hall and behind the door. He used the side of his hand to wipe his damp eyes.

      Noah took another look at the words scribbled on the wall, a shaky breath escaping from his mouth and a sharp pit of saliva being forcefully swallowed away. His throat strained from unspoken words that plucked the strings of the heart and squeezed the ribs like a dog toy. He propped his hand on his hip and lowered his head again, clicking his tongue in final decision. He whirled around to the table once again, advancing over to unfold the map and restudy it. His eyes surveyed delicately in determination. He narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow intently. He set his pointer finger down on the apartments, then drew it along a street path to the hospital. Without thinking twice, he reached over and uncapped the marker.