The building got closer, and he knew that Jasmine’s apartment complex was just around the corner. It felt as though his legs had renewed and his weariness was slowly drifting away. He felt anxious, he felt relief, he felt like running. But there was also a part of him that was scared, scared of what he might find.
Kyle began sprinting toward the building. He made a right turn down Sage Street. Jasmine’s complex was only fifty yards away. He could see it, and he slowed to a power walk. His panting grew, but he tried to slow it down by taking deep breaths.
Jasmine’s apartment complex was two levels high, with a total of twenty-two apartments. They were built into a U-shape form, with five apartments top and bottom to the left and right. In the middle of the U were additional apartments on the second level, with the laundry and maintenance room on the bottom. Between both rows of apartments were walkways that led to separate set of stairs. One on the right, on the left, and in the center. Trees and patches of grass covered the remaining ground. Kyle had spent many hours at Jasmine’s apartment. He knew the place like the back of his hand.
He turned the corner and got his first glimpse of the complex. The grass had completely taken over the ground. It had not been cut in God knows how long. The staircases were all destroyed making it impossible for anyone to climb up without a ladder.
Jasmine lived on the second floor, so as long as she hadn’t gone anywhere, she’d be safe. This gave Kyle a glimmer of hope. The window in front of Jasmine’s apartment was slightly opened, as if she had wanted to let in some of the cool breeze. She always did that, he remembered.
Kyle remained there, staring at her apartment that was thirty yards away, remembering how he’d always been filled with happiness when he saw her place.
Something on the ground caught Kyle’s attention. It was a silver dollar. Kyle bent down to pick it up when a shot rang out of the building. It blew by just above Kyle’s right shoulder. It burned his skin. He crouched to the ground and took cover behind a nearby tree.
“Stop shooting!” he yelled. “I’m alive.”
He heard hinges squeal as a door opened.
“Don’t shoot, I’m coming out,” he said with trepidation in his voice. Kyle slowly poked his head around the tree. A woman, crouched down in a firing stance on the second floor, gawked at him. A rifle barrel poked through the side railing.
Kyle looked at her and squinted. The shine from her blond hair reflected sunlight like the moon. The rifle fell from her arms as he quickly stood.
“Oh my god,” he heard her say faintly. “Kyle?”
He finished turning the corner and slowly walked down the remaining part of the path toward the demolished staircase. The woman stared, dumbfounded. As Kyle approached, he saw her face well up with tears. His eyes filled with water. He was happy and relieved, Jasmine was alive.
“Hi,” was all he could say through his salty tears.
She put her hand over her mouth.
“Can I come up?” he asked. He began to look around for the right place to climb up, but there was nothing.
Jasmine quickly ran into the house and came back out with a ladder. She placed it over the railing. It was just tall enough.
Kyle began to climb with one arm, still clutching his shotgun by the pistol grip in his free hand.
Once Kyle climbed over the railing they stared at each other in silence. Kyle looked into her once-shining blue eyes that were now red from tears. She was just as he remembered her. Stunning.
“Are you okay?” he finally asked.
She nodded and quickly wrapped her arms around him and squeezed his body like a teddy bear. Kyle let the Winchester drop to the ground as he returned the hug. More tears began to run down his face.
They stayed there for a moment, swaying back and forth in a slow-motion dance.
“I’m glad you’re still alive,” she whispered into his ear.
“I’m glad you’re still alive.”
He held her for another minute then slowly released.
“Are you here alone?” he asked.
She looked at him and nodded.
“You look nice.”
She smiled.
“Can you say something?”
Her smile grew to laughter.
“How did you get here?” she asked.
“Can we sit down? I’m dead tired.”
Jasmine grabbed her rifle and led Kyle through the door. It was just as he remembered it. A three seater brown couch stood against the right wall. Immediately to his left was an entertainment center. Across from that was a matching brown love seat with a coffee table in the middle. The room was amazingly clean, except for the luggage and arsenal that was laid out on the kitchen table.
Jasmine put the rifle with the rest of the weapons and sat down on the couch.
“I’m sorry for shooting at you.”
He smiled. “Missed me by a mile. I was always the better shot with a rifle.”
“Shut up,” she said with a smile, and patted the cushion next to her. “Sit down.”
Kyle dropped his things where he stood and laid down on the couch. His head met perfectly with her legs. She rubbed his head. It was as if they had never been apart. As if time had stopped for them a few years ago. Kyle began to weep. It was a low cry, but one filled with sorrow.
He began the story with, “I love you.”
First he told her about Mary and Eddie. He left out most of the details and gave her a more censored version. Then about Victor. He felt as though he had been rambling for hours, and he had. Jasmine did nothing more, but rubbed her hands through his hair and listened. He missed that about her. He could have never have been this way with Mary. He made no mention of Greenly or The Embassy. They were too far away to worry about.
When Kyle finished telling Jasmine about his journey, he stood and walked to her side of the couch. He ushered her to lay her head on his upper thigh. He began running his hands through her hair. He didn’t care how knotted it was.
She began the story. She told him how in the beginning the apartment complex was full. But people started to die very quickly. Soon enough, she was the last survivor left alive. She told him what she knew about the Existing Dead and how she’d picked up a radio signal that morning. Jasmine talked for another twenty minutes before she heard Kyle’s soft snore. He had fallen asleep, not because her story was uninteresting, but because he had spent the entire night driving.
Jasmine slowly rose to her feet and walked into the bedroom. She returned with a blanket and covered him. While Kyle slept, Jasmine continued to pack her things into the luggage on the kitchen table.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Eight hours passed before Kyle reopened his eyes. He felt disoriented, as he couldn’t remember when or where he fell asleep. He pushed the blanket off of him and rubbed his eyes.
“It’s about time you woke up,” Jasmine said from the other side of the couch. She was reading a book. Kyle’s vision was too blurry to read the title.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You fell asleep as I was telling you what happened here,” she said with a smile.
“I did?”
She raised her eyebrows and nodded.
“Oh, sorry. Wanna come lay down on me and continue?”
She laughed. “And have you fall asleep on me again? No thanks.”
Kyle smiled. “Do you have anything to eat?”
“Yeah.” Jasmine closed the book and walked into the kitchen. “Is there anything you’re in the mood for?”
“No, just bring me anything, thanks.”
“Good, cause all I have is beans.”
“That’s fine.”
Jasmine opened the can of beans and grabbed a plastic fork from the counter. She handed them to him.