They all stopped laughing and playing. Alex silently realized how uncomfortable he felt. Uncomfortable with how comfortable they were becoming with everything that had happened. Was still happening, all around them. He thought he could see the same thing in the others’ eyes.
It wasn’t until the food and supplies were organized and written down that they realized no one had thought to check the calendar to see when Halloween was. After a brief discussion, they decided to celebrate the following day, even though they were pretty sure it wasn’t accurate.
They needed something normal again.
DAY 8
ALEX
The next morning, having gotten over the uneasy feeling and still riding the momentum of the successful food run, Alex volunteered to go across the street again to grab some pumpkins. He decided to skip the one from Bob and Florence’s, remembering the severed limb. Though he wouldn’t tell anyone, he was terrified that the hand might start to move and grab at him if he got too close. There were plenty of others; enough for each member of their group. He could even get one for Kyle, though he was pretty sure they shouldn’t trust him with a knife to carve it.
The excitement of the previous day’s adventure must have gotten to David, because he didn’t even protest when Alex volunteered him to go too. Maybe he was just glad to not be bait.
The two boys suited up and headed out. The parking lot and street were clear again. Not even the crows were out—just the weathered carcasses of the mudmen on the front barricades.
“We’ll have to take them down later,” David said to Alex, then looked like he regretted it, probably worried that Alex would suggest they take care of it then. “Someone should, anyways,” he amended.
“Naw,” Alex said, looking the things over as they passed. “Leave ‘em up for today.” He grinned. “Halloween decorations.” His grin faded as the uncomfortable feeling came back. Did I just say we should leave dead bodies hanging for decoration? He suddenly felt sick as he looked at the piked mudmen. He shook off the feeling and ran across the street, with David quickly following.
There were two good-sized pumpkins at the first house. In his mind, Alex started designating pumpkins to the others. They wouldn’t be for him—he liked weirdly-shaped pumpkins. Ones that had character, his dad would always say when they picked out pumpkins together.
His sick feeling intensified.
Where is my dad? Where’s Mary? Are they even together? Are they looking for—
“What do you think of Kaitlyn?” David asked, snapping him out of his depressing spiral.
He sniffed back some tears. “What?” he asked, not turning for fear the tears might still be obvious.
“Uh, nothing,” David said, as he ran ahead to the next house.
Alex caught up with him. “Did you just ask about Kaitlyn?”
“No,” David said, turning red.
“Why,” Alex said with a grin. “Do you like her?”
“No,” David replied quickly. “I mean, not really, no. She’s my friend now, I guess.”
“I guess,” Alex nodded.
“Do you like her?” David asked, with a sideways glance.
“What?” Alex said, shocked—not so much at what David said, but at how nervous the question made him feel. He was pretty sure he didn’t like Kaitlyn. He wasn’t even sure if they were still fighting. “No,” he said, brushing it off, though he felt his face getting warmer. “Of course not.”
David smirked, as he picked up the pumpkin that Alex would hope to claim for himself. It had a flat back, and a skinny top. Lots of character. He held out his own bag, hoping that David would just hand it over.
David, however, was looking at something over Alex’s shoulder.
He was about to turn; then froze where he was.
“Whatcha doin’, Alec?” a voice said from behind him.
Alex almost dropped the bag of pumpkins. His hands grew slippery, and he felt the recent red in his face quickly wash away. He knew that voice. No! Lots of people have the same voice. He turned, hoping that he was mistaken.
Standing on the curb, between him and the community centre, with a filthy, bloody hockey stick slung over his shoulder, was Jared Flemming.
His face wore the same smile it did every time he had shoved Alex in the hallway at school.
“What do you want to do, Alex?” Nicole asked, looking out the back window. “We can’t just kick him out.”
“Why not?” Alex blurted, forgetting that he was trying to keep his voice down.
“Because,” Nicole replied, facing him, “he would die out there.”
“Have you heard his story?” Alex said, now straining to whisper, despite his anger. “He said he took on a whole bunch of them already after leaving a bomb shelter!” He paused. “Why did he leave the bomb shelter anyway? Who even has a bomb shelter?”
“He said it was to find more food,” Nicole answered with a sigh.
“But ... bomb shelters have enough food for weeks! For years! He’s so dumb!” He took Nicole’s place at the window. “He’s probably lying about it.”
“Of course he’s lying about it!” Nicole agreed. “Now who’s being dumb?”
Alex looked at her, resentfully.
Nicole must have sensed how upset he was about Jared. “He’s just a liar. He lies. He always has. Makes him ... I dunno ... feel important or something. If he wants to tell us that he killed a bunch of mudmen on his own with a hockey stick, then let him. No one believes him. No one here is that stupid.”
Alex pointed down the hall. “David and Kaitlyn and Hannah and Ryan are down there listening to him go on and on and on right now! They’re ... they’re ...”
“Enraptured?”
“Yeah,” Alex said, looking back to the window. “They’re enraptured with every word he says!”
“No,” Nicole said. “They’re not. They’re not that stupid. And he’s not that charming. Or smart enough to fool anyone.”
Alex looked at Nicole, confused. He had never heard the word ‘charming’ used to describe Jared Flemming before. “He’s not charming!”
“Of course he is,” Nicole said. “It’s how he gets away with stuff and
