The sound of gunfire in the distance brought Alex's head up sharply, and his rifled was at the ready without any conscious thought. Alisha, still dressed as a zombie, was curled up in the chair next to him, still wrapped in the blanket that he had covered her with earlier. They were keeping watch on the porch in case anything happened.
His breath plumed out in front of him as the cold transformed it into steam. He heard shouts and screams, but he wasn't sure if they were real, or ghosts from his past. He flinched at every crack of gunfire, panting and sweating despite the cold. His knuckles were white as they gripped his gun tightly.
Machinegun fire made him duck behind the porch railing, echoing strangely in the distance. He popped up on his knees, bringing his weapon to bear, searching vainly for a target. The rising sun glared in his eyes, making it difficult to see anything. But he kept searching.
A scream from nearby caused his head to whip around, and his gun with it, expecting to see Boomer since it was her voice. In his mind's eye he saw her again, carrying her own severed arm as she stumbled back towards him.
"Get down," he yelled to her. But it was too late. A dozen bullets hit her from behind, driving her to her knees, and then all the way down.
"Sarge," Hollis' call was cut off as a bullet tore through his throat.
"No!" he yelled, bringing his rifle up to cover his other platoon mates.
"Alex," Max groaned as he fell into Alex's arms, several gunshots in his back.
"Max, no," he cried, holding his best friend as he struggled to speak.
"Alex," he finally gurgled, grabbing hold of his shoulder.
"Alex," he was still shaking his shoulder, then yelled "Alex!"
His eyes snapped open and he found himself holding Alisha as he had held his best friend as he died. She was gripping his shoulder and looking at him with a combination of fear and concern.
"Alex, are you okay?"
"I'm sorry," he said, setting her back on her chair.
"Who's Max?"
"What?" he asked distractedly, "oh, my best friend."
"I thought JJ was our best friend. I've never heard you mention Max before."
"That's because Max is dead," he sighed, "he died in Afghanistan two years ago."
"Oh Alex," she cooed, "I'm so sorry." She stood up and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"He died in my arms," tears came unbidden to his eyes.
"Oh my God, Alex. That's so sad," she didn't let go, "Boomer and Hollis too?"
"Yeah," was all he managed to choke out as he cried into her shoulder.
They stood there for several minutes, holding each other in the cold morning light. He had lamented the deaths of his friends before, depressed and blaming himself for failing to save them when he had survived, though barely.
But he had never cried for them before.
"What's going on out here?" Kris asked as she stood in the front doorway.
"Nothing," Alex pulled quickly back from Alisha, wiping away the tears he had shed.
"He had a nightmare," the waitress said, giving his hand a last squeeze.
"Another one? Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Fine," he lied.
The Witch, dressed in her normal clothes now, hugged him tightly, "I'll do a ritual for you when I get back. Maybe it will help."
"Get back from where?" he asked suspiciously, pulling away from her.
"I promised to go clean up the Silent Supper table this morning."
"Not alone you don't," he said in no uncertain terms, "I'll go with you."
"Can you drop me off at home on the way?" Alisha asked meekly.
"Of course," he said, noting that she was still in costume, "I'm sure you want to shower and change clothes."
"Thank you," she said with a sympathetic smile.
Traffic was horrible. Bumper to bumper traffic choked the main avenues as panicked civilians followed their instincts of fight-or-flight with the flight option. All of them seemed to think that blaring their horns would magically make things move faster. There were car accidents every couple of blocks, most of them minor, but one in particular had one car in flames and the other on it's side. The emergency vehicles couldn't reach it because of the crush of vehicles.
"I don't understand people," he said as he shook his head.
"What do you mean?"
"Well where do they think they're going in such a hurry? Nothing's happened here, and even if it did it's not something that they can just run away from. You saw the news."
"They're just panicking," she said by way of justification, "they don't know what else to do."
It took them over an hour to reach the park, even sticking to the back streets. Unfortunately City Park was surrounded by main roads on three sides, so they were forced to park on the other side of Poyntz Avenue and try to cross the street on foot. Alisha lived just a couple of blocks from where they were forced to park, so she took off with a hug for each of them and a wave goodbye.
Had traffic been moving at a normal pace, it would have been suicide to try to walk across Poyntz. But with the gridlock of hysterical drivers, it was relatively easy. Kris even waved to a few people she recognized in their cars. Alex didn't know very many people, and was more focused on keeping Kris safe anyway.
"Watch out," Alex grabbed Kris and pulled her back just as an idiot jumped the curb and sped down the sidewalk. Their Cadillac Escalade came within inches of hitting her, the driver oblivious to anything except for their own psychotic self-centered desire to get through the clogged streets faster.
"Looks like the spirits were hungry." Kris noted as they saw that all of the plates were empty.
"Yeah," Alex said, "and the birds and animals."
He began to stack the paper plates, but she stopped him. Taking hold of the four corners of the table cloth, she brought them all together above the middle of the table, creating a 'bag' for all of the trash. With a smug grin she pulled it over to one of the many trashcans and stuffed it in.
"That's how you do it," she said.
"I bow to your expertise," he said as he actually bowed to her.
