Madness

Madison sat in the living room. The news had cut out yesterday, after a particularly disturbing broadcast about how to destroy the living dead.

She tried the channels anyway. Only thing she could find was some desperate preaching from the evangelicals. She turned it off. Hugging the collar of her green bathrobe, she looked out the front window, past the hole in the sheet she'd tacked up over them.

No one out walking today. The car across the street was still smoking, and the corpse was still sitting there, just outside of the open door. It's arms were still moving, despite the weight of the car's front wheel pinning it's torso in place. 

Madison wasn't sure how to feel about that. She looked away, then at the clock across the room. It was already 4:00. Jordan said he would be back with supplies half an hour ago. Not that he'd ever been great with time management before, but...

Madison looked down at her engagement ring. It was pretty, but not much of a comfort. She still felt empty and hollow and -

She got up and made coffee.

Ten minutes later the back door was unlocked and opened. "Mother fucking, fuck--"

Madness scurried to the back room, hovering in the doorway. "...Jordan?"

"Who the fuck else would it be? Christ." He spat back at her. He was a good looking guy, blonde hair, blue eyed, strong, an engineer... He'd never been very nice though. She'd known that from the beginning. Dated him anyway. Loved him anyway, best as she knew how. But who really knows what love is? Does it HAVE a definition?

"Are you... all right?" Madison looked him over, pulling her hands into the sleeves of her robe. Jordan hadn't let her leave the house. Been afraid she'd get hurt, or bit, and bring it back inside and get him too. He was afraid she would mess something up, make too much noise, hurt herself, etc...

"Take this, do something with it." Jordan snapped, handing Madison a bag of stuff.

She took it and hurried to the kitchen to put away the canned food items, the batteries and the other stuff Jordan managed to find. She noticed, with a tick of her eyebrow, that he'd neglected to find any canned vegetables. Only Chili and Chef Boyardee. He also hadn't found any TP. Damnit, she'd made a list. She would have said something - but he was cussing from the other room, and she didn't want to get into it with him right now.

"FUCK." Jordan kicked something. Madison heard a crash, and she winced. Slowly, she edged back into the door frame. He was holding his arm. His hair was wild, and he'd stripped off most of his rugby gear. Madison came into the room.

"Jordan? Let me see--" Madison reached out for his arm and Jordan slapped it away. The sting of it snaked up her arm and she winced, recoiling.

"If I want your help I'll fucking ask for it. Fuck." Jordan started peeling away his sleeve.

Madison felt the tick in her eye. When had he started acting like this? Had it been when the outbreak started? No... No she remembered it from before too. Little things. Insults. Condescending. Controlling. Had she just... put up with it? How? Why? Something sparked and lit in her belly, chasing away foggy thoughts. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What the hell Jordan, I'm just trying to help." She felt the burbling anger in her chest, coming up from beneath layers of floor boards she'd tried to bury it under. "TOUCH me like that again and I'll--"

Jordan peeled the sleeve away and exposed a nasty looking injury. A bite. A tear in his fine skin by human teeth. It oozed, dripping blood onto the floor as he glared at it.

"You'll what?" Jordan croaked.

Madison looked up at him. "Jordan you -"

He reached out, grabbing Madison by the wrist and pulling her close, hissing into her face.

Oh shit. Oh shit he's lost it. Madison felt panic churning right alongside her anger and she snarled back at him. "Get off Jordan."

Jordan shook her. "Touch you like that again and you'll WHAT, you useless bitch!?"

Madison yanked her hand away and growled into his face. "I'll fucking kill you!"

Jordan laughed in her face, spittle catching her cheek. Madison rubbed it away in disgust, about to say more, when the slap sent her spinning.

Right across the face, a burning hand print. Madison caught herself on the kitchen door frame, stunned. Jordan didn't say anything, but Madison wasn't listening. She held her cheek and padded quietly away.

"...Madison. Madison, I'm sorry." Jordan called after her.

He was always sorry. Always sorry they never had time to go out or do anything. Always sorry he never invited her out with his friends, or did anything for their anniversary, or their birthdays, or holidays. Always sorry when he couldn't pick her up from work. Always sorry that he was short on bills, or left his dishes around, or went out without telling her. Always sorry about his casual insults. Always sorry. Never sorry.

She made it to the hutch in the hallway and wrapped her hand around the nearest object.

"Madison?"

She turned. He was bitten, his look said it all. He stood at the other end of the hall. Madison gripped he screwdriver with white knuckled intensity. "...You don't even really love me, do you."

"...What?" He seemed surprised.

"...You just figure I'm good to have around and pay bills and clean house and stay in my fucking pajamas all day. So you can feel like some big strong man. 'Don't wear your makeup like that, hun, you'll get cat calls.' 'Don't get those boots, you'll never wear them.' 'Turn off that trash music,' 'smile more'--" Madison ran one hand through her hair, the only haircut she'd gotten that she liked and he hated it. Said it made her look... nevermind.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jordan snapped.

"You're bit, Jordan." Madison lowered her hand, and brought up the screwdriver.

Jordan snorted. Sure. Probably thought he was immune. Idiot. Not even his egocentric ass was immune to this shit. He looked over her face as if he didn't recognize her, then his eyes filtered down to her hand. "...What are you doing?"

Madison felt the anger pounding in her ears, the panic screaming in her veins, fire, fire everywhere. She launched herself at him, screwdriver out. Show him how useless she is! Show him he's not right all the time!

Jordan caught her wrist. He was strong. Stronger then she was. He pushed her back to the floor with a growl. "You gonna kill me? Well you're fucking doing it wrong."

Madison hit the floor with a thud. She kicked out at him and he came down too, clawing to get the screwdriver out of her hand, pulling her close to disarm her. But she wasn't going to let him disarm her. Not again. Nope. Nope. Noperoo.

She bit his hand. Not hard. Hard enough. She brought her knee up viciously, catching him in the groin. Jordan rolled, stunned & gasping. She climbed up on top of him, and she was grinning, and she spat right in his face, and she drove the screwdriver down into his beautiful, surprised blue eye, and she felt the resistance until there was nothing else to go through, and she sat there panting for a whole minute before she shambled up to her feet and went to the bathroom.

Madison watched Jordan's corpse from the bathroom doorway. He didn't move. Guess the TV was right.

Gatta get them in the brain. Small enough target in this case. She must have good aim.

A laugh bubbled up from her chest. It felt inappropriate, but she was way past caring. Before long she was laughing and sobbing on the bathroom floor, watching the slowly extending circle of Jordan's blood creep towards her. Somewhere in the manic laughter and hysteria, she'd crawled back over to him and yanked the screwdriver out, wiping it spitefully on his stupid t-shirt. She was shouting and cussing and crying and laughing--

By the time she had calmed down she was sitting on the couch again. She turned the TV on. The evangelist was quiet, marked by a humming 'standby' screen. She turned the TV off again and peered out the window.

....Bout time someone took care of the zombie under that car.