15

Stella

Ripley was sitting in the corner of the grand lobby of the riverboat, one of her back legs outstretched as she groomed herself. I leaned back on the circular sofa, not minding the few holes torn into the exquisite fabric, and Max sat with my feet on his lap. He'd taken off my boots for me and rubbed my swollen, aching appendages.

"This is a very ritzy place," he said as he admired it. "Hopefully, this will be a nice little break for us." He smiled down at me. "Like our first vacation."

"I suppose a –" I started to say, but then Ripley's sudden growling interrupted me.

The hair stood up on her back, and her eyes were fixed on the double doors that separated the lobby from the dining hall. Samara, Castor, and Polly had only gone through them ten minutes ago.

There was a loud banging on the other side of the door, and Max was on his feet, grabbing his weapons from his knapsack.

"Get underneath the piano," he told me over the sound of zombies groaning and howling.

"Zombies!" Samara shouted a warning from the other side of the dining hall only a moment before twenty zombies came crashing through the doors.

I leapt to my feet, grabbing my walking stick as I did, and I dove under the baby grand piano.

Ripley immediately pounced on the quickest zombie, while Max faced off against another with brass knuckles in his left hand and the billhook in his right. Remy had long ago insisted that we learn how to fight ambidextrously, but Max had taken to it much better than I had.

At the top of the grand staircase, Remy suddenly appeared and shouted, "Max, watch out!" as she took aim with her crossbow. She fired and a bolt flew through the zombie's decaying gelatinous skull, spraying thick green goo all over as it exploded.

Then she raced down the stairs, hurriedly loading and firing at other zombies as she did. Lillian followed just behind her, armed with her hatchet.

A moment later, Castor, Polly, and Samara ran into the lobby from the neighboring dining hall.

Between the six of them, and a serious assist from Ripley, they decimated the zombies relatively quickly, leaving a splattering of guts and flesh all over the fine furnishings.

"Is everyone okay?" Lilian asked after the carnage ended.

"Yeah, I think so," Caster said, just as a zombie stirred next to his foot, and he stomped on its head to finish it.

"Are there anymore zombies?" Remy asked, but she didn't bother waiting for a response before pushing through the double doors to go into the next room.

Max came over and helped me out from under the piano. "How are you?" He brushed back my hair so he could look me in the eyes. "Nothing got you?"

"No," I assured him. "They never came anywhere near me. How about you?"

He smiled. "I'm always good. You know that." He kissed my forehead, and his hand without the brass knuckles went to my belly.

Ripley came over and rubbed up against me, which was her own way of inspecting to make sure that I was okay.

"Where did all those zombies come from?" Lillian asked. "Were they free roaming around?"

"No, they were in the kitchen," Castor explained. "In the pantry, and I moved a stovetop out from in front of it because I thought there might be food –"

" Wait ." Lillian cut him off and held up her hand. "Someone had blocked off the door with something very heavy, and you just moved it to the side and opened the door right up without checking anything? Hasn't anyone ever told you about Chesterton's Fencing?"

When Castor shook his head, Lillian went onto explain, "Do not remove a fence until you know why it was first placed. Because if you don't, you have a tendency to release something that was better kept on the other side of the fence."

Remy returned from the other room and said, "I didn't see any other zombies around." Then she turned to me and Max. "We cleared the rooms upstairs. You can rest comfortably and lock the door so you'll be safer."

"Any room except for Room 238," Lillian said as Max and I gathered our things. "That one is mine."

"I'll go up with you to make sure that everything is clear," Remy said.

Ripley ran on ahead of us up the stairs, but I moved slowly. The plush carpet felt amazing on my bare feet, but everything still hurt.

Remy led Max and me most of the way down the hall, pausing in front of Room 236. "I think this is a nice one." She opened the door, peeking inside, and then nodded. "Yeah. This is perfect."

It was dusty, but otherwise clean with a large queen bed in the middle. That was all I really cared about, and Max and Remy hit the blankets in attempt to release the dust.

Once they'd finished, I laid down and let out a delighted sigh. "Oh, this is heavenly."

"Glad you like it," Remy said. "Boden and I will be in the room across the hall, but right now I'm going down to the engine room or whatever to see what they're doing. You two just stay here and rest."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Max said with a salute. She smirked and left, and he turned back to me. "It's stuffy in here, isn't it?" He went over and opened the sliding doors to our private balcony, letting in a fresh summer breeze. "Much better."

"Why don't you come sit with me?" I asked, patting the bed beside me.

He glanced down at himself, his t-shirt splattered with zombie blood. He pulled it off and tossed it aside before rummaging through his knapsack for something clean.

Max was lean but muscular, and his abdomen was marked with faded scars. Most of them came from his time as an experiment in a government quarantine, but some came from surviving since then.

After he pulled on another shirt, he grabbed our water canteens, and our lunchbox containing smoked caribou ( Rangifer tarandus ), pine nuts ( Pinus pinea L. ), and fresh berries ( Gaultheria procumbens ), and then he climbed in beside me.

"Are you ready for your vacation feast?" he asked.

"I am both famished and queasy," I told him honestly. "So, yes, I am." I quickly devoured a handful of berries and took a long drink of water. "Have you ever been on vacation before?"

"We went to France once, before I started school," he explained. "My mom wanted to show us where she was from, but I don't remember much. I know that we were happy, and we had fun."

"That sounds nice," I said. "What was your mother's name again?"

"Rafaella."

" Rafaella ," I repeated, liking the way it sounded on my tongue. I leaned back, resting my head on the pillow and munching on pine nuts. "What do you think of Rafael for a boy?"

"I like it," he said. "But I thought you wanted to wait until we me the baby to decide on a name."

"That's still true, but I want to have a few ideas so I don't just latch onto something without meaning," I said. "I can't remember my parents' names or anything about them. But we could still honor yours, since you do."

"We could go the ‘junior' route. Maxime Junior for a boy, or a Stella Junior for a girl," he suggested with a smile, and when I wrinkled my nose, he laughed.

"How about –" I began, but there was suddenly a loud rumbling that shook the whole boat. That was immediately followed by a loud whistling, and then everything went quiet. Ripley had been on the balcony, but she ran back into the room.

"What was that?" Should we be worried?" I asked.

"I don't know what it was, but don't worry just yet," Max said as he got up. He went to the door and pressed his ear against it, and when nothing terrible happened, he tentatively opened it and peered out in the hall.

"Anything out there?" I asked.

"No, I don't see or hear anything." He closed the door and started back toward me, but then he stopped. "Do you feel that?"

"What?" I asked, because I didn't feel anything but anxious, queasy, and tired.

"I think we're moving." He hurried out onto the balcony, sidestepping Ripley. "Yeah, we're moving!"

"So we're really getting our vacation?" I asked gleefully.

He ran back in and jumped onto the bed next to me and kissed me on the mouth. "Our vacation dreams are coming true!" Max kissed me again, more deeply, and his hand went to my waist, pulling me to him.

Someone knocked at our door, so Max pulled away and said, "Come in!"

"Hey," Boden said, closing the door behind him. His hands were black and dirty, and he grinned down at us. "I just wanted to let you know that we got the boat going, so we're heading up the river toward Grizzly Falls and Emberwood. And I wanted to see how you were doing."

"We're excellent," I said, ignoring the body aches and exhaustion. "We're ready to have fun at sea."

"Are you gonna be okay hanging out in here?" Boden asked.

"After all the walking of the past week, I'll relish it," I said. "We were just discussing potential baby names."

Boden's smile deepened, turning sentimental. "Oh yeah? Can I ask what they are?"

"We aren't deciding anything until the baby is actually here, but I was thinking of incorporating Rafael or Charles for a boy, after Max's parents," I said. "I also really like the names Alden and Henry."

Boden's brow furrowed, and he looked to Max. "What were your parents' names?"

"Rafaella and Charles King," Max answered.

"Wait. Your first name is Charles, isn't it?" I realized. "I always forget that Boden is your last name."

"My name is actually Charlie," he clarified. "Charlie James Boden."

"Maybe we shouldn't have two Charlies," I said.

"Those are all great names, and I'm sure you will make a great choice," Boden said, but he seemed deflated. "I should go check on Garrison. If I don't see you later, have a good night."

After he had gone, Max laid and rested his head on my belly. I asked him to sing to us, and he slipped into the soft French lullaby that I loved the most.