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“Well, goodbye Kelly! Good luck with the pot farm.” Emma, or should she say Kelly now, glances up to say thank you. A pot farm, far away from Hatchetfield, all she wanted not even a week ago. Now she didn’t know what to think. Sure, she’s happy that she didn’t die and turn into one of those fucking musical zombies, but she couldn’t help and think about all she lost. Sweet ole Bill and poor Charlotte, Professor Hidgens, hell even Nora, Zoey and the asshole creep Ted. And Paul…oh Paul. ‘You were supposed to make it back to me. We had that date to go on…and now what?’
“Thanks.”
“Oh, and one more thing. You will be escorted to Colorado by a Mr. Ben Bridges. He’s waiting outside.” Emma shot the soldier a confused look, “oh, I don’t know any Ben Bridges.”
“Well according to our records, you two seem to be pretty good friends. Peep would like to see it become something more.” The soldier smiled, about-faced and marched out the hospital room, leaving Emma to herself. She looked around what had been her room for the past week, ‘well goodbye Clivesdale, goodbye Emma Perkins, goodbye life I never thought I’d miss.’ As she begun to pick up her few things, someone entered the room. ‘Must be the nurse here to check on me again.’ However, when she turned her head, she was greeted to a sight she never thought she’d see again.
“Oh my god, Paul?” he had his signature goofy, dazed look on his face that morphed into a large smile at the sound of his name. “You made it!” Emma cried reaching out to grab him and pulled him into a hug. She needed to feel him. She needed his touch. For a week she was forced to face the facts that Paul was dead and gone. But now he’s here in her arms, perfectly safe and alive. His skin was cold when she touched him, but Emma couldn’t bring herself to care, just wrapping her arms and tightly around his torso. “We made it!” They made it, they were getting out of it. It was almost too good to be true.
“Emma, I’m sorry. You lost.”
Emma felt her blood freeze over and her body stiffened. She pulled herself out slightly from Paul’s embrace. ‘Did he just?’ No, there’s no way, he was fine. He was just pranking her. She gave him a smile in disbelief. Why was he pulling something like this now?
“Paul?”
“Emma, I’m sorry. You lost your way.”
Emma’s smile vanished. This wasn’t a prank. She began to pull her hands away, “Paul you’re scaring me.”
Paul began to waltz her around the hospital room, singing along to a song she couldn’t hear. “I’m still the man you trust. It’s inevitable for us!”
Emma began to cry, “no! Get away from me! You’re not Paul, you’re one of them!” Paul, no – that thing inside Paul, wouldn’t let her go. Her leg was killing her from being paraded around the room. Soon more people entered the room – Professor Hidgens, the nurse who must’ve been turned in the last few minutes, Ted, Bill, Nora, some random guy in a suit. All singing and dancing, circling her in. Emma broke though the group and out the door, down the dark hallway only to be brought back right back to her room.
“It’s just a fucking loop! What the fuck!” she screamed, limping away from the multiple hands that clawed out to grab her.
Suddenly, her hospital room transformed, the walls in front of her and to her sides fell, revealing an audience staring and watching her. She was on a stage. Her bed and IV had disappeared and the infected people started to sing towards the crowd and not her. Emma saw this as her chance to get help, she called out to the audience and begged them to help her, call someone, throw her a phone, do something, anything! No one helped, they just sat there – some with wide eyes, shocked that she was speaking to them. Others just laughed at her, at her pain. Did they not realize she was about to die and turn into one of those things?
She felt herself get pulled away by what used to be Bill and Ted and pushed into the center stage. Bill and Ted joined the other in kick line, singing some song similar to the one Professor Hidgens sang in his bunker a few days ago. Emma screamed as they drew closer. When she got to the edge of the stage, she tripped to the floor.
Paul yelled, “THE APOTHEOSIS IS UPON‑”
“US!” the rest of group finished, reaching out to nab Emma. Emma felt body go in slow motion as she yelled and extended her hand outward for someone to help.
Then everything went dark.
Suddenly, the lights came back on and the audience is cheering in a thunderous applause. The infected people start linking hands and bowing. Emma takes this time to try calling for help once more. Nothing changes. This time everyone is laughing, pointing at her.
“WHY ARE YOU CLAPPING?”
More laughing ensues. Then she’s being dragged away again, this time towards backstage. She had no escape. She just kept screaming and screaming, her growing hoarse. ‘This is it,’ she thought despondent. ‘This is where I die, in Clivesdale at the hands of people I once considered friends and something more. Haha…’ The last thing Emma remembers before entering the dark is the lyrics to the song Paul was just singing; ‘It was inevitable.’
“- Perkins! Ms. Perkins! Emma Perkins wake up!”
Emma flashes open her eyes and jolts upwards to the sound of her name belling yelled. She can’t breathe, the world is spinning, and everything was blurry. She could see the outlines of two people staring at her, but she can’t fully register who they are. She can feel someone touching her but that just sends her into a further frenzy. “Get away from me! Don’t touch me!”
“Ms. Perkins please calm down! I’m nurse Joy Drewman. We’re just here to check on you,” the lady with long brown hair wearing all white exclaims soothingly. “It’s okay, you’re okay now.”
After a minute of heavy breathing, Emma felt herself simmer down. She looked around the room, she was in a hospital. She was wearing a hospital gown, IV taped to her arm and a bracelet with her medical information tightly wrapped around her wrist. To her left was a light cream wall with swirling patterns on it and an ugly painting hanging up. To her right was the door. Nurse Joy was checking her vitals and behind her, the soldier lady from her dream stood near the door. ‘God,’ Emma thought, ‘I feel like shit! And my leg is on fire.'
After the nurse finished checking on Emma, she left leaving the other two alone in the room. The soldier cleared her throat to gather Emma’s attention, “Emma Perkins, I’m Lieutenant Parks from United States Military, special unit PE IP. PEEP for short.” PE IP? Peep? “So Ms. Perkins, do you remember anything that has happened over this past week?”
Emma couldn’t NOT remember. The singing, and dancing, all the deaths… But what about Paul and all the infected people that were just in here? Why wasn’t she dead right now? “The meteor, and everyone was singing…”
“Yes, that’s right,” Lt. Parks nods. “A meteor touched down in Hatchetfield a little more than a week ago, spreading an infection killing nearly everyone on the town. We found you near the crash site of our military helicopter. You had had a long thin metal pipe bent through your leg as well as a few broken ribs and plenty of blood loss. You were barely conscious when we picked you up. You’re in Clivesdale General Hospital now, and you just had surgery for your leg. This is the first conversation I’ve been able to have with you fully attentive. You were having a pretty severe nightmare, weren’t you Ms. Perkins?”
'Nightmare? That’s what that was, just a dream?'
Emma shook her head in shock. Helicopter crash…Clivesdale hospital…surgery? So, all thought that really did happen, she could hardly remember any of that. “So, the meteor?”
“Was destroyed along with the Starlight Theatre. Hatchetfield has completely been sealed off from the rest of the mainland as well as any means of transportation to get there. We blew up the Nantucket Bridge. It was pretty damn awesome. We believe the meteor was what was controlling the infected people. The hive mind, you could call it. Once it was destroyed, the people infected all seemed to drop dead.”
Emma wished those words didn’t bring her comfort, that she was horrified at the realization that so many people in her old hometown were dead. But after all that happened back in Hatchetfield, in that…dream? She just couldn’t help herself. Yet Emma still was pensive around the lieutenant, could she trust this lady in front of her? “Lieutenant Parks,” Emma cut in, “was there, um, are there any survivors?” Emma knew she should keep her hopes down, but she couldn’t help but ask anyways. But now, what did she even want the answer to be?
“That’s what I’ve come in here to tell you. When we picked you up there was a certain name you were continuously mumbling; a Mr. Paul Matthews.” Emma whips her head up, “Paul?”
“Yes, Mr. Matthews. I’m pleased to tell you that we did in fact find him.” Emma stops breathing and locked eyes with the Lieutenant, “Paul is…alive?”
Lt. Parks smiles, “we found him buried under the rubble in the remains of the old theatre. He was badly beaten and barely hanging on but, yes, he was and still is alive. He’s was just taken out of the Intensive Care Unit and placed in the general ward.” Emma felt relief course through her body. Tears sprang into her eyes and she began to shake in her bed. “Oh thank God!” she cried, “oh Paul!”
“He’s been asking about you ever since he woke up. I was coming to see if you were up for little a little trip to visit him in his room?” Emma shook her head violently, ignoring her newly developing headache. It was a no brainer, she had to go to him. See him with her own eyes.
“Okay then,” Lt. Parks said. “I’ll call a nurse to bring you a wheelchair.” She leaves the room and Emma is by herself. ‘Shit, it really was a dream,' she thought, her head in a fog. 'We really did make it. Paul’s okay. He’s okay…’
Around ten minutes later, nurse Joy and Lt. Parks re-enter with a wheelchair. The two help Emma off her bed and into the chair, then they’re off. Once out the door, Emma makes a mental map of the trip to Paul’s room. ‘Out the door, make a left, go all the way down the hall to the elevator. Go three floors up then take a right and down the hallway.’ They keep going down the seemingly never-ending hallway until they reach room #511. When they got the door, Emma felt the restlessness return as she squirmed in her chair. She didn’t know what to expect when the door opened, she just wanted to see him. Lt. Parks swings open the door and Emma held her breath as she gets pushed into the room. Paul was sleeping soundly. His eyes were gently closed, and the bed sheet placed over his body rose and fell with his chest after each breath he took.
“Oh God…” Emma whispers bringing her hands up and over her mouth. He was covered in burns, the right of his face, his hands up to forearms. Everything was either covered in a bandage or a cast. And on closer inspection, Emma notices that the sheet was oddly flat where part of Paul’s left leg should’ve been. Emma turns to Lt. Parks, the older troop seemed to understand what Emma wanted to ask without her having to ask. “When we found him, the bottom half of his left leg had been trapped under a large pile of concrete and wooden beams. We had no way of moving the rubble and the leg was too badly damaged to be repaired so we had to make the call to…” She pauses and looked down at Emma’s face. The brunette was in distress but in her eyes the Lieutenant could tell she wanted her to continue. So, she did. “We had to have an emergency amputation.”
“Amputation?”
“We removed his leg, up to his knee, in order to transport him.”
“Fucking hell…” Emma mutters in exasperation. Paul, her Paul. He was here, right in front of her – broken, burned and missing half of his leg. ‘What the hell did I make him do?’
At that moment, Paul begun to stir, slowly peeling open his eye with a few blinks. “Ughh…”
“Paul?” Emma reaches out her arm to grab Paul’s hand, lacing their bandaged fingers together. “Paul can you hear me?”
Paul moans and turns his head in Emma’s direction. “Emma?” Emma began to sob, “oh Paul! Paul you’re okay!” She kisses the back of his burned, shriveled hand before placing her forehead down upon it. “Emma? You’re here?” Emma sobs even harder, his voice was groggy and strained but not one musical note could be heard.
He was really here and truly okay.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Lt. Parks booms from behind, backing out the door and closing it behind her.
“Fuck Paul, I thought you had died.” Paul just smiles and wipes away some of her stray tears with his fingers. “It was going to take a lot more to stop me from dying and leaving you alone.”
Emma giggles, her sobs slow into a trickle, “apparently you dumbass.” Paul gave her another grin then groans. Emma panics when Paul starts to glance downwards at his body. “Shit, I got pretty messed up, didn’t I?”
Emma couldn’t look at him anymore. “This was my fault.”
Paul turns back to look at her. “Emma you can’t mean that?”
“Paul you wouldn’t have to that meteor if I hadn’t asked you to. Hell, I wouldn’t have even had to ask you if I hadn’t fucked up my leg from not wearing my damn seatbelt on that helicopter. Now look at you!” she holds out her unoccupied hand and waves it up and down over Paul’s body. The tears had returned in full force. “You’re in a hospital missing part of your fucking leg because of me!”
“No Emma,” Paul exclaims, “if it wasn’t for you, and your idea to go back and blow up that meteor we’d all be dead. Every single last one of us.” He grabs both of her hands and gives them a comforting squeeze. “You saved me, you saved all of us. Besides, what’s half a leg when the alternative is becoming a mindless singing alien?”
Emma gave him a small smile through the tears, “of course you try pass the glory off to someone else.” After a few minutes her tears whittle down to a few streaks and her breathing returns to what could be consider normal. They sat, or Paul’s case, laid there not saying a word. Hand in hand, enjoying the others presence. They basked in the sun blazing through the window and the quiet, which in the past week, they’d come to really appreciate it.
Not even five minutes later, Lt. Parks and another nurse enter Paul’s room and tell her that she had to return to her room. Emma immediately tenses at the idea of leaving him again, but they quickly inform her that she would be allowed to come and see him again tomorrow. Paul gives her one last squeeze then they separate. They smile at each other as she is exited out the door.
After that, for the following two weeks this becomes their routine – Emma would be wheeled into Paul’s room and would spend as much time as they could together, just talking, telling stories, good and bad, comforting each other. Then at the end of the day, Emma would be rolled back to her room, only to repeat this process the next day and the days after that.
When Emma was set to be discharged early the next week, stitches removed and now able to walk on her own, she pleaded with Lt. Parks to let her stay with Paul until he was discharged as well. She couldn’t leave without him, not again. And a few days later, with some favors being done by Peep, Emma was given special privilege to stay with Paul in his room. They even brought in a spare cot for Emma to sleep on, which she later moved into the narrow spot in between Paul’s bed and the window. Lt. Parks said it was because there were still some more things that needed to be done dealing with their relocation, but Emma could tell she was lying.
Soon Paul began physical therapy, three times a week, to help with his limited mobility. Emma could tell he hated going but he never outwardly complains once. Emma knew it was because he didn’t want to upset her. She hated that he put on a brave face to soothe her, not once thinking about himself. On days after a particularly difficult session, Emma would sit with him on his bed and hold him close to her body. She ran her fingers up and down in circles on his back and would whisper just how proud she was of him in his ear.
Their first date wasn’t a silent movie at some indie theater like they planned, no – it was some Hallmark tv movie marathon in Paul’s hospital room surrounded by candies and snacks from the vending machine and hospital cafetorium. Plus, some food Emma snuck in from a McDonald’s down the street. They two feasts on junk food while curled up together on Paul’s bed, making fun each movie’s overall cheesiness and predictable plot. When nurse Joy comes by to check on the two, she is greeted to two fast asleep thirty-year old’s, candy wrappers and McDonald’s boxes strewn about the bed. The position they’re in is too cute, she doesn’t even dare wake them up. She just turns off the lights and closes the door – the only lights now come from the tv screen and the buildings, cars and sky above that shine in from the window. She can scold them over the outside food tomorrow.
Some days are easier than others. On one of those REALLY bad days, Emma can’t seem bring herself to move out of bed. She just stares blankly out the wide window, she hates these days. The days where she can’t help but think back and replay the incidents of Hatchetfield over and over in her head. Think back to all that happened to her new friends, what had happened to her sister. Wonder why she is still alive when so many others deserve it so much more than her? Wonder why she kept even trying to live on in the first place…
Emma hears the door to her and Paul’s room creak open and begins to turn around. She expects to see Paul being rolled into the room per usual. What she doesn’t expect is to see Paul standing up in the doorway, slowly making his way over to the bed on foot, by himself, a wide smile on his face. Nor does she expect the prosthetic leg attached to his left knee. Sure, he’s using crutches and his steps are awkward and stilted, and yes there’s nurses standing only inches away to catch him in case he falls, but that didn’t matter to Emma. He was walking again.
“Surprised?” Paul asks. Emma is stunned speechless. He continues on, “they’ve been letting me practice walking with a prosthesis during P.T. They think I’m ready to get fitted for my own leg now. I wanted to surprise you. Did it work?”
‘This is why,’ Emma thinks to herself, getting up from her bed and walking over to Paul. ‘He’s why.’
They share their first kiss in room #511 that day.
A few days before Paul is discharged, Lt. Parks comes back and gives them their new identities. “Here are you new passports, ID’s and everything you need detailing your new lives.” ‘Emilia Bradshaw…well hey it’s better than fucking Kelly that’s for sure.’
“Parker Murphy huh?” Paul says, eyes glued to the stacks of paper in front of them.
“You look like a Parker,” Emma jokes, ruffling Paul’s brown hair that was in major need of a haircut. Hell, both of their hair was in desperate need of some good old TLC.
Paul cracks a smile and looks up at her, “and you totally look like an Emilia.”
They are being sent to a plot of land in Colorado. ‘Colorado? Why does feel familiar?’ Emma stiffens the tiniest amount and scoots closer to Paul, nearly sitting in his lap. Without thinking about it, he immediately brings one of his arms up and wraps it around her body. He used to these moments of jumpiness, they both get them. Without Emma noticing, Lt. Parks had been talking about their living situation. ‘God, I hope Paul has been paying attention.’
“- nearly three acres of well treated land and house is brand new and completely furnished. And yes, it’s paid off. It’s quiet, private and best of all, only around thirty minutes away from the nearest heavily populated city so you don’t feel like you’re too far in the middle of nowhere. It’s a great place…” Emma held her breath, “…to start a family.”
Emma exhaled at the words, then after fully realizing what Parks was insinuating felt her face grow exponentially hotter. She looked up at Paul, only to see that his face and neck had gotten even redder than hers. They briefly lock eyes, quickly turning away. “Well I think that’s everything. I’ll see you two in a few days to take you to Colorado.” Then Lt. Parks takes her leave.
“Hey Emma,”
“What’s up?” she still couldn’t look at him in the face.
“Have you noticed that even with the new names, our nicknames could still be Emma and Paul?”
“What, seriously?” she asks finally turning back to Paul to see him nod his head up and down. “Emilia would be Em for short but if you add the ‘a’ from the end, it could be turned into Emma.”
“Shit you’re right.”
“Parker is a bit of a stretch, but I guess it’s kinda hard to find another ‘pau-’ names. So, I think it’s close enough to prove my point. Do you think they did that on purpose?”
“Oh definitely,” Emma concludes, looking over the documents again. They’re actually leaving, like for real now. They’re going to start their new lives together. Emma sees Paul fiddling with a few sheets of paper, trying his hardest to remember their travel itinerary. ‘Start a family huh?’ Even at a young age, Emma was turned off to the idea of settling down with a husband or wife and having children. ‘There’s too much out there to see and explore. There’s no time to settle down,’ is what she always said to her sister whenever she asked. But now, after everything that’s happened to her, settling down with Paul didn’t sound too fucking bad at all.
Colorado was pretty, well at least the land where her and Paul’s new house was at was. Acres of fenced off grassy hills, colorful trees and the view of distant mountain tops in the front and dense forestry surrounded their house in the back, plus there was a pool. A freaking pool! The actual house wasn’t too shabby either. In fact, it was pretty damn beautiful. When Lt. Parks said brand new, she wasn’t kidding. The house was huge – three stories tall to be exact, with 5 rooms and three and a half bathrooms. The kitchen was decked with the nicest stainless-steel appliances Emma had ever seen. Two ovens, a flat top stove and a long granite island in the middle. Emma had discovered her genuine love of baking during her time at Beanie’s, so she looked forward to spending quite a bit of time in there. The living room was big as well, with a leather couch, La-Z-Boy recliners, stone fireplace, and a 75-inch flat screen with both Netflix and Hulu on it. If Emma thought she was going to pass out in the kitchen, the revelation of tv wasn’t helping.
“Holy shit Paul, I’m never leaving!” Paul just laughs at how excited she was getting after exploring each new room. In all honesty, he was feeling a bit overwhelmed at all the excessiveness of the house but seeing Emma’s giddy reactions helped ease that tension.
The master bedroom was the cherry on top of Emma’s perfect sundae. Inside was a king-sized bed, dressers plus a walk-in closet, and a window which opened to reveal a balcony. Then there was the master bathroom that had two vanity sinks, a toilet and not only a walk-in shower but an old-fashioned bathtub as well.
“Oh God I need to lie down,” Emma muttered staggering towards the bed planting herself faced down on top of the comforter. “I’m dreaming, this must be a dream!” her words come out muffled from her head being buried.
Paul chuckles joining her on the bed, facing upwards though. “Not a dream Emma. This is really your house now.”
“Now, if only a puppy appeared, then it would be absolutely perfect!”
“With the size of this place we could probably get like six dogs…” Paul exhales. Emma turns to face Paul in brand new vigor, “so we can get six puppies?”
“We’re not getting six dogs Emma.”
She puts on the cutest pout Paul has ever seen, “but we are going to get A dog, right? Or two?”
“I can definitely agree to that,” Paul chuckles. Emma leans over and plants a sweet kiss on his lips which he quickly deepens. His lips are slightly chapped against hers which are freshly coated in cheap convenient store chapstick – it’s perfect and warm.
“We should go right now,” Emma speaks, fire in her eyes. Paul just looks at her, flabbergasted by her enthusiasm. “We just took a long flight to Colorado and finished moving in all of our stuff and you want to go out and buy a dog right now?”
“Yes!”
Paul rolls his eyes then closes them, “give me an hour to nap and I’ll be ready okay?”
Emma gives him an exaggerated groan in response but still snuggles in close to him, closing her eyes as well. “Fine, but in an hour we’re leaving.”
Paul kisses her forehead, “okay Emma.” They’re both out in a matter of minutes, the only sounds in the room is the two’s peaceful snores in harmony with the other.
Five hours later they two are leaving the pet store with bags of dry food, canned food, treats and every other dog accessory known to man. A small dog in both of their laps: a tiny black and brown chihuahua-yorkie mix named Socks in Emma’s and an adorably scruffy three-legged golden poodle terrier mix named Bee in Paul’s.
For now, their family was complete. And Paul and Emma couldn’t have been happier.