Charlene helped Allison shrug out of her coat, and pull off her shirt. The bra she wore was stained with blood. I poured water onto her chest. The blood washed away. I looked for bite marks. I did not see any.

“Only on my arm,” she said. “I got bitten once. On my arm.”

I whispered to my daughter, “Heat the end of the spatula up on the flame. Get that metal glowing.”

The bite on her arm was severe. It started at the forearm, and flesh was pulled loose up past the elbow. The blood spilled from the wound. The school kitchen was so silent, except for an occasional sob. I heard my own breathing. It filled my ears. “Lie back down,” I said. “I want you to hold still. Hold out your arm.”

Dave stood at the head of the counter. I nodded to him. He held her by the shoulders.

“Chase…”

“Just do it, Alley.” I pulled the machete from the sheath and held it with both hands. The sword was contaminated with fresh zombie blood. If I severed her arm using the sword, it might not help at all when her blood mixed with the infected blood on the blade. This might not work anyway. I only had seconds before it was possibly too late to do anything.

“Chase!”

There was no time for waiting, for talking her through it. I swung the machete fast, hard and screamed when I felt the metal make contact, and chop through skin, and muscle and bone.

Her arm fell from her body. It plopped into the formed pool of blood on the kitchen tiles. Blood splattered. The severed limb was coated red. More blood sputtered from the stub of an arm.

“The spatula,” I said.

Charlene removed the flipping end from the flame and handed it to me.

Allison yelled. She did not seem able to form any words. It looked like she was being electrocuted the way her head kept going from side to side. Almost worried I might need to stick something in her mouth to keep her from biting off her tongue.

I pressed the heated utensil against the stump, hoping it would immediately cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding. The spatula sizzled against the flesh. I think I screamed. The putrid odor of cooking human meat filled my nostrils. I vomited. My stomach bile mixed with her blood and severed arm.

Alley let out a single scream as well, and then went abruptly silent.

Her eyes were closed. The pain must have been too much. She had to have passed out. I hope she passed out. I wished it had been earlier. I didn’t want her to remember all of this. It was something I’d never forget. The images were seared into my brain. Seared forever into my memory.

I just kept hearing one phrase replayed over and over inside my head: I cut off her arm. I cut off her arm. I cut off her arm.

Melissa and Kia came over. They dipped the torn strips of towel into water and washed the blood around the Alley’s wound. I backed away, letting them tend to Alley for now.

“Are you okay?” Charlene put a hand on my arm.

The simple touch was not enough. I pulled her in for a hug. “I thought I lost both of you out there.”

I couldn’t hold back my tears. I didn’t try. I hugged Charlene tight, with my hands tangled in her hair. I couldn’t press her close enough to me. I needed that, her close, as reassurance that she was real. That I had not lost her.

“Is she going to be all right?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I really don’t know.”

“You’re bleeding, too. Your side,” she said.

I lifted my shirt and felt it peel off my stomach. “Stitches must have come out during the fighting. I’ll be alright.”

“Let me take a look. I’m sure I can fix it up,” she said. And I let her.

#  #  #

I did not see who had done it, but after my daughter led me to the cafeteria area, someone cleaned the mess under the cash register counter. They must have disposed of Alley’s arm and mopped up the blood and vomit.

My daughter and I stood at the threshold and looked at Alley, who was still out cold. “Anything?” I said.

“She’s breathing,” Kia said. “It’s steady. But she hasn’t moved at all. Her eyes haven’t opened.”

“I appreciate you looking after her for me,” I said, and remembered how, when we first arrived, she’d told stories to take my mind off the stitches Gene had first given to close my deep cuts. I touched my side, and let out a wince.

“It’s nothing.”

“Melissa, how far away is your house, where the bus is, from the school?” I said.

“Ten minutes. Fifteen in heavy traffic. We’re pretty close. About three miles out on McCarren Street, by the hospital,” she said.

By the Hospital meant nothing to me. Ten minutes, three miles. That I understood. “How long have Gene and Andy been gone?”

Robert was outside. Had he re-animated? Was he a zombie now?

Dave looked at the clock on the wall by the door to the freezer. “An hour.”

An hour. “That’s not bad. Roads are littered with disabled vehicles,” I said. Getting from 9-1-1 to my kids had been a journey, as well. “It took us, what Dave…days to go just over fifteen miles.”

“That’s right, it did,” he said.

Melissa smiled. It was like she wanted what Dave and I implied to be an acceptable reason for why Gene and Andy weren’t back yet. It wasn’t. Not really. “I told him not to get out of that car. You remember. So it may just be taking a bit longer for them to get to the house. Once they get there though, he’ll be back in minutes with the bus. It’s just a matter of getting out to the house. That’s all.”

“I’m sure it is,” I said. “And I can’t wait to see this thing!”

This time, Melissa lit up. “It really is spectacular. When he was building it, I’ll admit, I did a lot of eye rolling. I mean, we work hard. We’re still a paycheck to paycheck kind of couple. He just would dump any extra pennies we had into making this bus. But I never told him to stop. It was his thing. It made him happy, so I just let him. I even helped building it, from time to time, too.”

Alley coughed.

I looked at her. Stood there motionless for a moment before I ran to the side of the counter. Kia took a step back. She pursed her lips at me. Not quite a smile. She looked about as apprehensive as I felt. This was going to be touch and go. Alley would need some prescription strength drugs to fight any infections that are associated with amputation. At least that was what I was thinking.

“Alley?” I said. “Allison?”

She coughed again. It sounded like her throat was filled with phlegm. I turned her onto her side. She faced the doorway to the cafeteria where Charlene still stood.

I patted Alley on the back. “It’s okay. We’re here. We’re with you.”

“Dad,” Charlene said. “Dave, grab my dad.”

I looked up from patting Allison’s back. I was behind my girlfriend.

Dave came at me. He didn’t question my daughter’s command. Part of me knew what must be happening. There was something I couldn’t see from where I stood. “Char?” I said.

Dave took me by the arms and walked me away from Allison. It couldn’t go down this way. Not with my daughter and not with Allison.

I saw Charlene come forward. She’d drawn her hunting knife. “Char, wait. Wait, Charlene!”

My daughter cupped her hand behind Allison’s head and thrust the serrated blade into her skull. I heard the knife saw through skull. With both her hands being used, my daughter could not wipe away her tears. Her lip trembled as she tugged and pulled until her knife came out of Allison’s head.

I’d done nothing. I didn’t save her, couldn’t save her. Cutting off her arm, having her pass out--it prevented me from spending last moments together. It stopped me from telling her I loved her. I never got to thank her for…for everything. I failed you, Allison.

My daughter should not have been the one to end it. That she was strong and brave enough was not lost on me, but the fact that she had to did not make it any easier. I continue to fail you, Charlene. Continue to fail you.