The doorbell rang, and the guy delivering our pizza had turned.
Though he didn’t quite know it yet. The signs were there: fever, scratching & clawing at himself, the vacant stare. I took the pizza from him gently and tipped him 20%, shoving the pen & receipt into his too-sweaty palm. He just stood there blinking, so I closed the door. Gently.
"Pizza’s here. Delivered by a zombie."
"Uh huh. Figures,"
Outside there came the screeching of tires, a muffled thud of impact. Screaming. Gunshots a few blocks over. It was moving closer.
"So. Last night on earth. By some miracle we have pepperoni pizza. And you wanted a zombie movie?" I moved into the living room, setting the box on the coffee table, completing my arc to the kitchen for beer acquisition.
"Seems appropriate. Dawn of the Dead?"
Another screech of tires outside, this time followed by the gunning of a motorcycle and rapid acceleration.
"Seen it a jillion times. Um, what’s the one with the girl I like? Raccoon City?"
"God, which one? There’re like ten Resident Evil movies. And no. We could just Roku some Walking Dead…"
I picked two Yuengling Porters from the fridge (best we had) and blinked when the lights flickered. Sirens wailed in the distance.
"Whatever we choose, better hurry." I popped the tops, not caring where the caps went.
"Oooh, Woody! Yes!"
She nodded, typed & clicked on her laptop. That made sense, since we had no idea how long AC power would last.
I joined her on the sofa, handed her a beer. She clinked bottles with me, eyes never leaving the laptop. She nodded in satisfaction as the Zombieland logo spun up on the display, setting the laptop on the table next to the pizza so we could both see. Leaned back on the sofa so I could put my arm around her. Outside: pop-pop-pop of small arms fire, somebody screaming. I noted she had (at some point) slipped out of her jeans, was wearing naught but hoodie & Scooby Doo underwear.
"You want some pizza?" I nuzzled her ear, not really thinking about food.
She snorted, set her beer deliberately on the table next to the laptop. Turned, gazing unblinkingly at me.
"Pizza can wait," she said with a nod. A moment’s pause, then she shrugged out of the hoodie.
The grip on my own beer tightened with a small spasm. The laptop was telling us about Cardio and Seat-Belts and being Cautious in Bathroom Stalls but I didn’t care as I took her in my arms, breathing raggedly of her scent.
Outside, the world burned. Orange flickers of light lit up the living room from without, the sounds of civilization grinding to a halt messily clanging and crashing and sometimes screaming.
But here, in this place, for awhile, none of that mattered.