0.5 Undead by Morning by Joyce Lavene; Jim Lavene

Undead by Morning
     
    There was a steady humming sound beside me. It was punctuated by an occasional beep . It blended in with a nightmare I’d been having, but I couldn’t remember what it was.
    “Your turn to get the alarm, Jacob,” I muttered to my husband as I prepared to turn over and go back to sleep for a few minutes.
    “Thank God! You’re finally awake!”
    That was Addie’s voice—Jacob’s mother. We’d lived with her for the past few years.
    “I thought we had this conversation about staying out of our bedroom,” I managed to say, my mouth strangely dry. “What does it take to get some privacy?”
    Most of the time, living with Addie was okay. Just every few days she questioned me about something I was doing wrong raising our five-year-old daughter, Kate. Or she razzed me about not being the greatest cook in the world. Or she remarked on Jacob’s underwear not being as white as it could be.
    Okay. Living with Addie was a pain .
    I wished we could have our own place again. I understood that Jacob loved his mother, and knew she couldn’t run the Apple Betty Inn without him. His father was dead. There was no one else.
    It didn’t make it any better.
    Something wet plopped on my face. I wiped it off, forcing my eyes open to angry slits. “Are you spraying me with water? What the hell, Addie? Get out of our room. Jacob, tell her.”
    “Skye, you have to wake up. Come back to us.”
    I realized something was wrong, very wrong. This wasn’t any tone of Addie’s that I’d ever heard.
    Forcing myself to focus, I searched her face. She was crying.
    Addie is crying.
    I’d never seen her cry before. She was leaning close to me, staring hard into my face, and crying.
    I tried to be sympathetic, not just annoyed. “What is it, Addie? What’s wrong? Is something wrong with Kate?”
    If not, there better be some damn good reason why you’re in here.
    “Jacob?” She was his mother—he needed to deal with her.
    “I’ve been beside myself with worry.” She wiped tears from her plain face. “Let me get the doctor. Thank heaven you’re going to be all right.”
    Doctor?
    Like a bad segment from a horror movie, the machines around me slowly spun into focus. I seemed to be attached to all of them. I could barely move. I tried to look around, but all I could see were more machines monitoring my vitals—and Addie’s stricken face.
    “Wait! Addie!” I tried to reach out to her as she moved. My hands and arms were taped to boards that held them in place. “What’s going on? Where’s Jacob?”