What sort of diabolical scheme was this? Marty’s career in law enforcement trained him to see patterns in criminal behavior. Someone was behind this.
There were no survivors at the police station. There were no survivors anywhere.
His heart was heavy as he got back into his patrol car. He screamed and accelerated the vehicle on the sidewalk. All his anger, his frustration, his grief, was just too much for him. What kind of life was this?
He noticed the sign pole in his way and slammed on the brakes, the pulsing of the ABS massaging his right foot. Too late, he barreled into the police station’s intersection, and crashed head-on into a stalled SUV.
A rerun of Golden Girls was on the television. Vin thought it was a stupid show. After twenty minutes of trying to contact friends and loved ones but getting no results, he turned off Bea Arthur, gathered everyone together, and announced that it was time to start thinking about their own survival. “If we stick together, we’ve got a fighting chance. Alone, we don’t have much of one.”
He didn’t think they had much of a shot together, either, but he made sure he didn’t put it quite that way.
“Has anyone seen any zombies lately?” Vin asked. Everyone shook their heads. “Okay, I saw them all travel up north. Did anyone see them travel any different way?”
They all shook their heads. Piano-player spoke up. “We didn’t see them travel, but their footprints all went north, as far as we could tell.”
“Did anyone see them drive a car?”
They all shook their heads again.
“Good, then we’re probably safe for now, though they may come back at any time. If we do get some from the south, there isn’t much population between here and Bullhead City. Now, there’s an electronics store, and a sporting-goods store, which will probably have clothing, down the way in this strip mall. I want to go search for a radio, and bring us back some decent, clean clothes, but I don’t want to leave you undefended.”
“There’s a police station across the intersection,” Janice said.
“What of it?” Vin scowled.
“Has anyone seen a zombie with a weapon?” Janice looked around. “Anyone?”
Vin got it. “You think we might find weapons there.”
“Yes. We can all loot them of their weapons.”
“But what about the store?” Vin asked. “Who will defend the store? We need the food here if we are to survive.”
Alexander chimed in. “So, you will defend the store? With just one shotgun?”
Okay. Alexander had a point. “All right. I’ll go get us some weapons. You all should come with me; we need to stick together.”
“What about Emily?” Piano-player asked.
“You hold her hand and don’t let go.”
Emily spoke up. “I want to be with Charming.” She ran over to Vin and hugged his legs. Vin had to raise his arms to keep her from running into his shotgun.
This little girl will be a lot of trouble for me.
“He’ll protect me from the Wicked Queen.” Emily buried her face in his thigh.
Vin scowled. “There’s no Wicked Queen, little girl. Unless you’re referring to the president. And I ain’t no Prince Charming.”
“Don’t talk to her that way!” Janice protested. “Can’t you understand she’s been through an ordeal? She’s trying to cope with it as best she can.”
Oh, God, we don’t have time for this. “We’ve all been through an ordeal, sweetheart. We shouldn’t encourage this Snow White delusion.”
“She is coping,” piano-player said. “We need to let her do that in her own way.”
This is nonsense. “You play the piano, for Chrissakes. What do you know about little girls? Do you have a degree in psychology?”
“No. And neither do you.” Piano-player approached them and bent down on one knee, his eye level close to Emily’s. “Emily.” He reached out and gently touched her hand. “Prince Charming needs to protect all of us, and he needs both hands to do that. Take my hand and I promise I won’t let go, and we’ll stay close to Prince Charming. Can you do that?”
Emily scrunched her face, shook her head, and stomped her feet. “No!”
“Just yank her away from me, piano-player. We need to get to those weapons before someone else does.”
Piano-player looked him in the face. There was a determination and self-assuredness that impressed Vin. He was more than just a piano player. He had a name. What was it? Oh, right. Jize.
“No. We must reason with her. She will never go along if we antagonize her.” Jize looked back at Emily, who was clinging hard onto Vin. “Emily, I need you to listen.” His voice was firm. While Vin didn’t agree with Jize’s method, he had to agree the man had conviction. And his diction was very good for an Asian. “Prince Charming needs to protect all of us,” he repeated. “He can’t do that while you cling onto him. You must be brave. Snow White is brave, right?”
She nodded.
“Can you be brave, Snow White? I promise not to let Prince Charming out of our sight. Now, you promised me you would stay with me or Janice at all times, remember?”
She nodded again. “But Charming will stay with us?”
Okay, may as well play along. “I’ll make sure I protect you, Snow White, I promise.” Emily looked up at him with wide eyes. “I promise,” Vin repeated. I’m going to regret this, I just know it.
They walked disorderly together behind Vin. Vin kept his shotgun raised, ready to shoot, and turned around constantly, pivoting while walking. Janice thought it comical but suppressed a laugh. No one would appreciate a laugh right about now.
Because here they were, their lives turned upside down and ruined, just over the last—she checked her watch: 2:15—two hours or so. Vin took for granted that they all wanted to survive. Janice thought the point debatable. Nonetheless, they all agreed to loot the police for their weapons. Janice alone had no one to mourn. That meant she had no misguided hope. She wouldn’t dream, though, of dashing these
