Zombies! (Episode 4): The Sick and the Dead by Ivan Turner Page A

sort of emotional bunker. He felt he shared a kinship with Eileen because of their loss. And now Eileen was shutting him out. "Have I…"
     
    "You haven't. You really haven't. But we have to close the gap, you know?"
     
    "And I can't help with that?"
     
    On the other end of the phone, he could feel her becoming frustrated. She had wanted this to be easy, without even realizing that it never could be. She was hurting him and he was pressing because he didn't know what else to do.
     
    "Anthony?"
     
    "Yes, Eileen."
     
    "When you got home that night, and Alicia was waiting for you, what do you think was the first thing she thought when she saw you?"
     
    "I don't know. Relief, I guess."
     
    "I guess," Eileen agreed. "What about when you told her about Johan?"
     
    This time he hesitated. Alicia had never really cared for Stemmy. It wasn't that she disliked him. It was more that they were different kinds of people. She liked a more organized, more dot your I's and cross your T's kind of guy. "Sad, I suppose."
     
    "Do you suppose?" Eileen asked.
     
    "Well what else would she feel?"
     
    "Relief again, Anthony."
     
    "Now, Eileen, that's not fair…"
     
    "Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying she was glad he'd died. It was more that she was glad it was him instead of you."
     
    He didn't know what to say about that. How many police officers' spouses had to face this sort of death? What did they feel when it was the partner?
     
    Eileen continued. "I know I would have felt the same way. As much as I love you and I do, I wish every day that it had been you instead of him. Can you understand that?"
     
    "I…I don't know."
     
    "God, Anthony, I'm so sorry. I really am. I have to face that thought and the guilt that goes along with it every time you come here and I can't move on like this."
     
    Heron felt devastated. Rationally, he understood that she wasn't wishing him dead, but that's what he heard. He heard that she wished he was dead and, short of that, she wanted him out of her life. It was heart wrenching, but he suddenly grasped what she was saying and knew that there was nothing else for him to say. His obligation to the Stemmy family had been abruptly cancelled. So he muttered a weak okay and a goodbye and then pressed the disconnect button on his phone before Eileen could even take a breath.
     
    As he stood there, trying to sort it all out in his head, he thought that she might be right. He thought that she had to be right for herself and her family. His concerns were secondary.
     
     
    ***
     
    " ABBY? "
     
    …
     
    "Abby?"
     
    …
     
    "Hey, Abby! What the hell?"
     
    Abby looked up to find Whitaker looking strangely at her. "Hmm?"
     
    "What's wrong with you?" he asked. He was holding a stack of papers and looking very much like he'd just run a marathon. Around her, there were people trying out the equipment all over the gym. Push Ups was running a special promotion and, much to her surprise, it had brought in a lot of people. Most of them were just taking advantage of the free trial, but they'd signed up a few over the weekend. It was the owner's way of trying to recover from the disaster that had been the New York evacuation. Membership had lapsed and payments by current members hadn't gone through. He blamed the city but the truth was that he himself had disappeared for two weeks while expecting Abby and Whitaker to pick up the slack. Whitaker had left for a week as well.
     
    So they were busy but no one had been hired to help. There was a trainer, but administratively, she and Whitaker were left to run the show, working until their fingertips bled. Whitaker was actually taking to the job. In fact, he was doing much better than Abby at the moment. Her focus was shot to pieces. Three weeks had gone by since she had been trapped by zombies in the emergency room of Sisters of Charity and she still hadn't recovered. And, though that incident was the marker by which she kept track of the trauma, she knew that