“Tobin . . .”
He nodded once. “Right. I’m sorry. I go through the light and pass a grocery store, and she’s the second house on the right.”
“Weird.”
“Why?”
“That’s right next to my grandparents’ house.”
“Really?”
“Yes. We’re going to go straight down this street about five blocks and then hang a left. I’m going to drop you off at your sister’s, check on my grandparents, and then I’m going to get my daughters.”
“And then where are you going?”
“Red Hill Ranch.”
Nathan
JILL WAS CRUMPLED AGAINST SKEETER, holding her bleeding, mangled arm up against her chest. She had it bent at the elbow, so I couldn’t tell exactly how bad her injuries were. Glass had broken just before she screamed, so I hoped over and over that she had just been cut and not bitten. Everything we knew about the walking dead told us that a bite was fatal.
Zoe had a hard time keeping up with Skeeter’s pace, so I pulled her up into my arms. Her little legs bounced as I chased Skeeter and Jill across the street and down the block to the First Baptist church. Its wooden exterior was in need of another coat of white paint. I couldn’t imagine why it hadn’t been done; the church was the size of Skeeter’s house.
“Heads up!” Skeeter said, raising his rifle.
A woman was walking toward Zoe and me. I wasn’t sure what to do. I was holding Zoe with both hands, and called out to Skeeter, running as fast as my legs could move. He stood still for a moment so he could let go of Jill long enough to aim and fire, and then he wrapped his arm around his wife again. I didn’t wait to see if Skeeter had hit his target. I didn’t have to. I’d never seen the man miss. After one more glance around, he took off into a sprint for the backside of the church.
Several of those things were following us, and the fear and adrenaline made me feel I could jump to the roof with Zoe in my arms if I had to.
Skeeter beat on the door with the side of his fist, and it immediately opened. A short man with white hair and matching complexion stepped to the side so we could file in, and then he shut it tight, and turned the bolt lock. Another man, bald and wearing a blue leisure suit, helped him pull a solid wood pulpit in front of the door before they turned to Skeeter.
Skeeter nodded his head to the short man. “Reverend Mathis.” He looked to the other, and his eyebrows pulled in. “Where’s Esther?” The man just looked to the floor, and it was then that I noticed a boy about eleven or twelve standing behind him.
Reverend Mathis put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Bob and Evan tried to get to her. They had to leave her behind.”
Evan, the young boy behind Bob, sniffed and wiped his cheek, but kept his eyes on the floor. He was so still, as if moving would mean what was happening was real.
Skeeter offered a small smile. “You got your grandson here safe, Bob. Esther would be glad for that.”
Someone was hammering away in the next room, the knocking echoing throughout the building.
A few people Skeeter and Jill seemed to be familiar with were gathered together, all wide-eyed and as frightened as we were. The room we stood in was obviously a kitchen, albeit a small one. Canary-yellow paint complemented the dated speckled countertops and metal cabinets. The seats and springs of the faucet were just one more thing that needed to be repaired in this place, made obvious by the steady drip of water from the spout. The only thing not some shade of yellow was the faded blue carpet; at least it was until Jill started bleeding all over it.
“Christ almighty, Jill, what happened to you?” a woman said, helping Skeeter to sit his wife in a folding chair.
Jill sniffed. “I was getting a few changes of clothes for me and Skeeter. I heard something outside, so I opened the curtain and Shawn Burgess was standing right next to the window. He didn’t seem right, Doris.” Tears fell down her cheek while Doris wrapped her arm with a damp towel. “Next thing I know, he’s charging me like a bull. He broke through the window and less than a second later he had me on the ground.”
“Shawn Burgess? Denise’s son?” Doris said, looking to Skeeter. When Skeeter didn’t respond, she pulled back the towel to reveal a large gouge in Jill’s arm. I was expecting a set of bite marks, like a toddler might leave, but an entire section of her skin and muscle had been ripped away. “Oh my Lord, honey. You’re going to need stitches.”
“More like a skin graft,” Evan said. He was staring at Jill’s arm like it was on fire.
Doris shot a threatening look in his direction. “And a slew of antibiotics, I imagine. We’re going to have to get to Dr. Brown’s.”
“Aunt Jill!” Zoe said, ducking under Jill’s good arm. Jill hugged Zoe to her side and kissed her forehead.
The white-haired man spoke. “You think we’ll get lucky and he’ll come here with supplies?”
“No,” Skeeter said. “I saw him chasing Jim Miller earlier when I brought Barb.”
Skeeter watched Doris fuss over Jill’s wound. A darkness had fallen over his face. He knew as well as I did that he was going to lose his wife today. Maybe tomorrow. If anything anyone had ever said about zombies was true, it wouldn’t take long. By the subdued fear in Jill’s eyes, she knew it, too.
Skeeter blinked. “Where is Barb and Ms. Kay?”
Doris nodded toward the doorway. “In the sanctuary. Prayin’. Gary and Eric are boarding up the windows.”
“Good plan,” Jill said. “They definitely don’t have a problem with windows.”
Skeeter kneeled in front of his wife. “I’m going to talk to the guys, Jillybean. Make sure they allow spaces for me to fit my rifles through. I’ll be right back, and then we’re going to get you fixed up.” Jill nodded as Skeeter kissed her cheek.
“Can you stay here with Aunt Jill?” I said to Zoe. She leaned against Jill, the smallest tinge of sadness in her eyes. I wondered if she knew, but I wouldn’t ask. Maybe she was just missing her mother.
I followed Skeeter into the sanctuary. It smelled like old people and mildew, and I began to wonder why in the hell Skeeter had thought this rickety building was our best option. Two men were working on opposite sides of the room, furiously nailing boards to the stained glass windows. There were three on each wall, and they had only one on each side left to cover. A hand flattened against the glass, making a clumsy attempt to get inside. I jumped, on edge from our desperate run to the church.
“They just started doing that,” Eric said, gesturing to the window. “It’s like they know we’re in here.”
When he started hammering again, shadows of the people outside darkened the glass portraits of Jesus and angels. They wanted to get inside, and I wondered how long it would be until they did.
“The noise is probably drawing them here,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. Aubrey was always making snide comments about my shaggy hair and how bad I needed a haircut. I wondered if the world would ever calm down long enough for me to miss her bitching.
“Don’t really have a choice. They’ll have that glass broke before long.” Skeeter walked over to two frail- looking women sitting next to each other on a wooden pew. “You ladies still doin’ okay?” Skeeter said, putting a hand on the one woman’s shoulder. She reached up and patted his hand, but did not stop her quiet prayer. Their mouths were moving, but I couldn’t hear them.
“You think you could send one up for Jill?” Skeeter asked, his voice threatening to break.
One woman continued to pray as if she didn’t hear, the other looked up. “Is she okay?”
“She’s hurt. She’s in the kitchen . . . all right for now.”
“Jesus will take care of her.”
I rolled my eyes. Jesus wasn’t taking care of much of anything at the moment.
Skeeter started to return to the kitchen, but I motioned for him to join me in the corner of the room, away from listening ears.
“I know what you’re going to say,” he said. His eyebrows pulled together. “But don’t.”
