The Complex: (The Reanimates) Read Free Page B

on the first shot and nearly always I would end up lucky and get it placed right the first time. Suture kits were the same, when assisting doctors with chest tubes they had their back up kits that they would sometimes leave sitting on the bedside table that I pocketed as you can't leave it sitting in the patient's room. I usually discarded the memory of the back up supplies sitting in my pocket until the moment I got home and rediscovered them as I emptied my pockets. I had a kitchen drawer filled with this sort of thing. I started to call the collection my zombie first aid kit. After that, adding to it was easy. If while at the pharmacy I saw that gauze pads or other first aide items were on a killer deal I bought them. I commandeered a large shelf in the bathroom to put my supplies in. Any time we came across blankets that had become matted, but were still usable, it went into the zombie kit to ward off hypothermia or shock.
    Zombies. Preparing for the zombie apocalypse was a joke, the catch all term for any disaster. If you were ready for zombies you were ready for an earthquake or any other natural disaster where services were cut off. Mostly though, preparing for zombies was a joke or just a hobby. It was always supposed to be just a joke. Our discussions were supposed to be a joke. My brain looped on the word joke. I could tell Trent was in the same mind loop.

 
    Family Awareness
     
    Shortly after the CDC report had gone off the air, Trent's cell phone rang. I was wound so tightly that I jumped at the ring tone. Trent grabbed it checked the caller ID which displayed that the caller was mom. Trent's mom and dad had gone out of town to visit his sister's family. Kristen had moved to Burley ID with her husband Mike and their five year old son, Nathan. The move hadn't been easy on his mom so every year when the school year ended and it was certain she wouldn't be called in to substitute teach she and dad would head north for a few weeks.
    Trent answered the phone with the usual hey. Hey. Like today was just another day in our lives. I could hear her through the ear piece. She was frantic and panicky. Not a huge surprise, that was mom for you. She kept saying that she didn't understand all this reanimation stuff. When you die you go to heaven and that's it. You're dead or you aren't. Trent kept saying he didn't know either. She was as lost as all of us, maybe more lost as she hadn't had the benefit of being a fan of the zombie genre. This flew in the face of her 66 years of life and religious belief. I heard her ask how she was supposed to get home.
    "Mom." Trent started, his voice firm and clear, "You don't. You and dad stay with Kristen. We'll be fine. When things get settled we'll come there but for now we need to all stay put. We'll go get the dog, probably raid your cupboards for food, and I want to get my tools... Yeah, we'll get all the dog's stuff... No, I think it would be easier on Drew if we stayed here. But thanks for offering your place. Yeah, mom we need to go. Drew is waking up. We'll text you later... I love you too. Bye."
    Trent looked at me and said, "Cali how are we supposed to tell Drew?" Heh. I'd been trying to figure that one out for a while now. My son who is so innocent and happy, who believes in the goodness of people, is about to have a bomb dropped on him. I could tell that my husband was thinking the same thing because his eyes teared up at the same time mine did. His eyes had been dry until then.
    As though on cue, Drew opened the door to his room. His blond hair stuck out in gravity defying angles. His still small frame was outgrowing his favorite Wall-e jammies, proving that indeed he was growing by showing a bit of bare belly. He saw the light on in our room and noticed the TV playing the news. He stood there, puzzled at us and tentatively asked what was wrong.
    "Come here, bud." Trent called.
    Drew climbed up on the bed and crawled over to me leaned onto my side. I breathed in his little