“They’re good for lots of things. I’m not going to wear them. Well, actually, I might, if it gets cold. Good insulation.”
Joy and Walter were content to watch me talk myself into humiliation.
“What?” I said. “I was a Boy Scout.”
Walter laughed once. “And all this time they’ve been worried about the gays infiltrating their organization, and they’re teaching lulu things like that.”
“I think my leader was a closet survivalist, too. I learned a lot from him.”
“Pantyhose?” Walter said in disbelief, his voice going up an octave.
I shrugged. “You don’t worry about what you’re wearing if you’re warm.”
“Then I’ll be toasty all winter,” Joy said. Her expression immediately softened when she turned to Zoe. “Come on, peanut. I bet Princess is getting mighty hungry.”
Zoe nodded and followed her outside.
Walter and I moved to the front porch, sitting in the rocking chairs and discussing our next move. We decided we would try again for Jesse’s the next day. We also needed to fill the gas cans. Walter didn’t seem to be in a hurry, even though I reminded him we would be leaving before long. He pretended he didn’t hear me.
• • •
THE NEXT DAY WE WALKED the distance to Jesse’s house. Walter was right: Jesse had more guns than Skeeter. We took as many as we could carry, along with the appropriate ammunition, and then made the trek back to Walter’s. We made that trip every day for three days. The basement began to look like an arsenal. I put several rifles and a few handguns in my car, reminding Walter again that Zoe and I weren’t staying.
The days were beginning to get longer, and it panicked me when I had to think twice about what day it was. The only reason time mattered was to avoid getting caught outside at night. Weekends were irrelevant. Every day was about survival. Living with Walter and Joy, though, even with the occasional infected stumbling by, the apocalypse wasn’t so bad. Still, I had to take Zoe somewhere out of the way, and I still hadn’t carved out a quiet moment with Joy to see if she knew of a place we could settle.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” I whispered.
Walter and I were watching an infected walk by. We’d learned over the last few days that if we stayed still and quiet, they kept walking.
Walter didn’t respond until the infected passed, and then he shook his head. “You need to get more sleep. You’re not making any damn sense.”
“I’m going to start making trips out of town. Scout the area. See if I can find some acreage with a house.”
“You have a house right here, you fool,” Walter grumbled.
Joy occupied the space inside the open front door, and looked over to Walter with a knowing smile. Walter shook his head so slightly that if he hadn’t paired it with a glance in my direction, I would have questioned whether I’d seen it. They were in disagreement about something.
Joy walked over to stand behind Walter, patted him reassuringly, and then spoke. “You asked about a place out of the way.”
“Yes,” I said. My posture straightened instinctively, eager to hear what she would say next.
“There is a doctor that comes to the store here sometimes. He buys things in bulk. I’ve only spoken to him once. He seems like a reasonable man, not what you might expect from a big city doctor. I know he has two girls, and he lives northeast of here. He’s several miles out, so it might be isolated enough to be safe for you and Zoe.”
Walter frowned at his wife.
“I would never force my way in, Walter. I hope you know that. I have to find the safest place to raise Zoe, though.”
Joy smiled. “It’s not that. He likes having you two here. He doesn’t want you to leave.”
Walter crossed his arms over his chest and settled into his chair, unhappy.
“Is this true?” Antagonizing Walter was probably not a good idea, but it was also too fun to pass up.
“Go to hell.” He frowned.
Joy let out a cackle, and she shook her head. “Oh, you stubborn man,” she said, rubbing his shoulder.
Walter stood up quickly, his rifle in his hand.
I aimed at nothing in reaction. “What is it?”
Walter squinted over the rifle’s sights. “Kids.”
Miranda
THE SUN HAD POURED A bright light over us and everything else by the time we’d made the north turn on Highway 123. My hands were shaking, knowing we were that much closer to my dad’s ranch. I imagined his reaction when he saw the Bug pull into the yard, and what it would feel like for his arms to wrap around me, strong and warm; his cheeks wet from worried and happy tears.
I wasn’t sure why I blamed him for the divorce. Mom was the one that had decided she didn’t want to be married to his profession anymore. It broke Dad’s heart when she said it was over, and for whatever reason my loyalties were with my mom. She seemed more fragile, and less capable to be on her own. I wasn’t sure what Dad could have done differently. Quit his job? Thrown away years of education? What else would he do? It wasn’t until I began my second semester of college that I realized it wasn’t just parties and friends. It was hours of studying and worrying and writing papers that would never pass through any other hands than a professor’s. But, I blamed him. I punished him with my absence.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I pressed on the brake to bring the Bug to a slow stop about a hundred yards from a large herd of dead ones. The car alarm confused me. It was grating to the ears, and yet I’d been so engulfed in my thoughts of my dad, the sound and even the headlights blinking on and off, visible through the dozens of ambling bodies, didn’t register until we were nearly on top of them.
“What do you want to do?” Bryce asked quietly.
“Turn off your lights,” the guy we’d picked up said, his voice tired and sad. He hadn’t told us his name, and no one had bothered to ask. We had more important things to worry about, I guess, but still it seemed strange. It was another reminder that in just a few days the environment had changed us.
A few days ago, Ashley would have been giggly and bubbly and the first thing she would have done is asked the guy his name. She didn’t even seem to notice he was in the car, even though she was sitting half on his lap, half on Cooper’s.
I reached up to turn the headlamp knob, and we idled. The wheat field on the right was still damp from rain. A vehicle had cut huge ruts into the soil, really deep in some spots. On the right was a grassy hill. I wondered for a moment why the person who made the ruts had chosen the wheat field. Then, the road leading into the tiny town of Shallot caught my eye. Ashley and I had passed this town and that wheat field so many times without a second thought. Now, the wheat field was dangerous, and the town a frightening unknown. The hill hid parts of the town from view, and the wheat field ruts led me to believe the person before us wanted as far away from that hill as possible.
The dashboard pinged, and I looked down. The gas gauge was a centimeter to the right of the red line.
“Of course,” Ashley said. “How could we possibly star in a horror movie without something catalyzing like that happening?”
“Catalyzing?” Cooper said with a smile.
“Shut up,” she replied, barely acknowledging his playful teasing.
The truth was, Ashley had done significantly better on her SATs than I had. She’d always been a straight A student, even taking college courses in high school. She’d inherited our dad’s intelligence, but my mom’s inability to handle any amount of stress. She was an emotional ball of nerves and tears. Cooper once told me that his mother was the same way, and that’s why he was one of the few guys in school that didn’t find her high-maintenance. One late, drunken night when everyone else had passed out, Cooper shared with me that he actually found her neediness and constant need for assurance comforting, which was just . . . odd, and maybe a little co-dependent, but they
I don’t know. I guess it was sweet. Even weird people deserved to be happy.
