A movement next to him. The woman is back on her feet. She’s bending down to grab him, mouth open wide, her frame blocking out the sun.
Thomas screams.
Then, the zombie lady is abruptly jerked backwards.
Thomas catches a glimpse of Dan tugging at the woman’s ponytail. He gives her another hard yank which sends her sprawling to the gravel.
Dan yells something, but all Thomas can hear is his own throbbing pulse. He gets up. Both zombies are also getting to their feet. Out from the doorway Thomas sees another figure coming. It’s the girl who finally found her way out of the house.
It’s too late, he thinks, his thoughts sounding oddly distant. There are too many. We can’t get them back in the house.
Dan is still shouting. Thomas looks at him, dazed. A word makes it through.
“… car! …”
Thomas staggers towards the car, Dan on his tail, jumping on one leg. The boys open the doors on either side and crawl in. Thomas hits the central locking.
The sound of the lock snapping somehow brings back Thomas’s hearing. His own wheezing breath, Dan’s gasping sobs, the growling of the zombies outside.
“Holy fuck,” Thomas mutters. “I really thought I was done.”
Dan looks at him. “Are you unharmed?”
Thomas lifts up his T-shirt. “You tell me.”
“I don’t see any scratches.”
“I guess I’ll live then.”
A thud, as the black man bumps against the window next to Thomas. The girl staggers to Dan’s side. The zombies start making futile attempts to push through the windows.
“Shouldn’t we get out of here?” Dan asks.
“We can’t. Car’s out of gas. And she doesn’t have a key.” He looks to the car with the redheaded woman, where the zombie lady is standing.
Dan gives off an exhausted noise. “You’re kidding me! So we’re still trapped?”
Thomas nods grimly. “Looks like it.”
FOURTEEN
The clock in the car tells them it’s almost nine. Thomas can’t believe they’ve been here for nine whole hours.
The zombies are waiting patiently right outside. Snarling, snapping their teeth and groping the windows. Thomas tries not to look at them, but it’s hard, considering how their empty eyes seem to devour him alive.
At least the sun has disappeared behind the house, leaving the courtyard in a pleasantly cool shade. Yet the inside of the car is still warm, and Thomas is sweating.
Dan has pulled off his sock, revealing a swollen ankle.
“How’s it doing?” Thomas says, pointing.
“It’s sprained,” Dan mutters. “I did it once before, when I was skiing.”
“So you can’t walk?”
Dan shakes his head.
Thomas glances out at the nearest zombie. “I guess I’m the lucky one who gets to go for help, then.”
“You think that’s a good idea? Wouldn’t it be better to wait for someone to come along?”
“It could be days.”
Dan shrugs. “Someone’s got to be wondering where we are!”
“Who would that be? I haven’t spoken to my dad for months. And your parents are on holiday.”
“Yeah, but Mom will probably call me or Jennie tonight; she usually does.”
“And what then? I mean, when you don’t pick up? You figure she’ll go straight to the police?”
Dan hesitates. “Probably not. She’ll probably try to call us again tomorrow.”
“And when she does, and she still can’t reach you, then she just might call the police, and that’s great. Except the police have no idea where we are. If they come looking for us, they might find my car missing. And even if someone tells them about the paper route, this house was one of the last stops, which means they’ll have to make a lot of house calls before reaching this place.” Thomas shakes his head. “By that time we’ll be long dead from thirst. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I don’t see any other way; I need to make a run for it.”
“I guess you’re right.” Dan squints his eyes. “I’m so thirsty. I feel dizzy. You sure you don’t have anything to drink?”
“Nah, I already told you—” Thomas suddenly lights up. “Holy shit, wait a minute … I just might …” He turns around and crawls to the backseat, checking the trunk. His heart leaps at the sight of the canned sodas. Out of the entire box, only three of them are missing. He grabs one and hands it to Dan. “Here you go. Sorry it’s not cold.”
Dan takes the can as though it is life itself. He opens it and drinks greedily.
Thomas grabs another three cans and crawls back over behind the wheel.
Dan burps and drops the empty can to the floor. “Another one,” he groans.
“I think you’d better pace yourself,” Thomas says, handing him another can nonetheless. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to drink too much too fast when you’ve been thirsting for …”
But Dan has already opened the can and is pouring the Coke down his throat. And Thomas can’t blame him. His own hands are shaking as he opens the can. He closes his eyes and lets the sweet, warm liquid flow down his throat. It prickles wonderfully. He sighs deeply. “That’s got to be the best Coke I’ve ever had.”
Dan burps wetly and laughs. Thomas can’t tell if the tears in Dan’s eyes are caused by relief or carbon dioxide.
“How many you got back there?”
“Almost an entire box.”
“That means we can survive for days. You don’t need to go out there anyway!”
Thomas becomes conscious of the zombies once again. Not that he ever forgot about them. But their moaning, hungry noises suddenly seize his attention. He looks out, past the black guy, over at the other car. There are about ten feet between the cars. He can’t see the woman inside, which means she’s probably lying down. The zombie woman is faithfully standing guard by the rear door.
“She’s probably thirsty,” Dan says, guessing what Thomas is thinking.
“I’ll try and call her.” He puts his hands to the window and shouts: “Hey!”
The red hair of the woman appears. She looks over at them.
Thomas holds up a can.
The woman shows him a large bottle of water.
He sends her a
