Lena pressed her free hand to her stomach, her face going white. “I guess we just figured out what the infected eat.”
Dal took her by the arm, steering her away from the animal pen. They approached the barn. Dal’s back itched. He did not like the idea of going inside there. If that was where they had to go to find a horse, maybe they were better off traveling on foot.
“Dal, over there.” Lena gestured to the tall corn stalks growing on one of the school plots. “Is that a horse?”
Sure enough, standing in the shadow of the cornfield was a horse. A living horse.
“There’s more of them,” he whispered. Now that he was looking, he saw the silhouettes of several horses hiding on the edge of the corn field.
“They must have jumped the fence when the zombies attacked,” Lena said. “None of the other animals could get away.”
They crept toward the horses. Dal was relieved they’d avoided the necessity of going into the barn, but it wouldn’t do any good to spook them. The poor things were probably scared after all they’d experienced.
The closest of the horses watched them warily, exhaling sharply as they approached.
“Hey, boy.” Dal extended a hand to the tall bay, letting the animal smell his hand. “It’s okay, boy.”
“You wanna get out of here?” Lena approached a second horse, this one even taller. He was all black, his coat gleaming like fresh ink in the night. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” The horse nickered softly, allowing Lena to approach.
None of them were saddled. Lena patted her horse, running a hand along his side. He snorted as she sprang onto him, her powerful dancer’s legs propelling her upward. She dangled awkwardly before getting her leg around his hind quarters.
With the weight of the transmitter, Dal knew he couldn’t jump like Lena. He grabbed a handful of weeds growing at the base of the corn. Using it, he led his horse toward a school bench on the edge of the field. The bay followed, nickering in annoyance when Dal held it just out of his reach.
As soon as they got to the bench, he released the greens to the animal. He scrambled from the bench onto the back of horse.
Dal had never ridden bareback before. He clucked his tongue, nudging the animal with the heels of his Converse shoes.The horse took a few steps forward, but he was going the wrong way. How the hell was he supposed to steer without a bridle and bit?
“Dal, do you hear that?”
Lena’s voice made him jerk. He strained his ears, listening.
He heard it. A soft chorus of growls and hisses and the crunch of many feet on gravel.
Nezhit.
The horses seemed to have heard it, too. Dal’s bay lurched sideways, nearly unseating him. He grabbed a handful of mane and clamped his legs as the horse leaped. With a distressed whinny, it bolted into the field.
Lena’s black gelding fell into step beside Dal’s, both horses frantically putting distance between them and the zombies.
They weren’t alone. Another three horses joined them, all five animals streaming through the open field. They ran through corn, tomatoes, string beans, zucchini, and lettuce. The smell of smashed plants filled Dal’s nose.
Barking erupted behind them. Dal glanced over his shoulder.
Behind them was no less than a dozen zombies. They ran in a tight pack, streaming across the field—straight toward them.
Chapter 28Homeward
DAL LEANED LOW ACROSS his horse. The transmitter bounced painfully against his back.
Luckily, the nezhit virus didn’t give their pursuers super speed. His horse thundered through the field with the others, quickly outpacing the zombies. Dal lost sight of them in the darkness.
The west side of Rossi was a patchwork of farms. Apples, plums, and cattle were the most common, though at the moment the horses ran through a popular local strawberry patch. When they reached the far side of the field, they slowed to a canter and remained in a group.
“I guess they believe in safety in numbers, too,” Lena said.
“I think we lost them.” Dal twisted around, staring back into the dark.
“Maybe.” Lena looked doubtful. “They could still be following.”
“Do you think the Soviets just attacked the west coast?” Dal asked. “Or do you think they attacked other parts of America?”
Lena shook her head. “I don’t know. That would take a lot of resources, but ...” She heaved a sigh. “If they’re aiming to claim America, or at least a big part of it, my guess would be that what’s happening here is happening everywhere. Look, there’s Bastopol.”
A mile away sat their quaint hometown. It was a tiny bedroom community with a few sub-divisions and a lot of farmland. There were no towering city blocks like there were in Rossi.
The fastest way home was to go straight through Bastopol. But if there were Russians there—and Dal had no reason to assume it was safe—that would be a bad idea.
They’d been experimenting with their mounts for the last few miles. Lena discovered if she leaned back, the horse stopped. Dal did this now so he could get a good look at Bastopol.
Lena stopped beside him. The rest of the horses also stopped, all of them munching on the weeds that grew in the apple orchard where they currently stood.
Dal felt that familiar sense of foreboding, like he had as kid before his father flew into a rage. It was the tug in his stomach that had saved his life in Rossi.
He turned to Lena. “I don’t think we should go through Bastopol.”
“It would be faster than going around.”
It would be a lot faster. Dal heaved a breath. “I don’t think it’s safe.”
“What makes you think that?”
He hitched his shoulders, not wanting to tell her about his innate barometer for trouble. “It’s just a feeling.”
“Can we go a little closer before we decide?”
Dal shifted. He didn’t want to argue with Lena, but he really, really didn’t want to
