I feel like a liar and a fraud. Almost all of you have lost a loved one and found the strength to go on. You’ve found each other. I admire you for that. I love you all. But a life without Ern is not a life. I’ve gone home. Please don’t follow me. I don’t want to be rescued.
It's true. I mean every word of this.
Nancy struggled with guilt, but at that moment all she wanted to do was go home. To sit on the couch that she had shared with her husband for many years. To flip through the photo albums and relive the old memories. To walk into the closet and inhale the smell of him.
With a feeling of finality, she picked up the small bag containing some of their stuff and approached the door. She opened it carefully, leaving it ajar in fear of making any noise and rousing the others.
No squeaky stairs at schools, she reminded herself as she neared at the concrete steps. A minute later, she had arrived at the front door. She cast a look around her, and something caught her eye.
He won’t mind if I take that.
She scooped up John’s survival bag. She carefully opened the door, wincing at the rasping sound of the lock bar rising from its slot. Then she was out. She left that door open as well, afraid to pull it shut and wake the whole school with the noise it was sure to make.
Only one obstacle left.
Nancy feared there would be zombies at the fence, or at the gate into the school grounds. That would instantly derail her plans. But as she crept towards the gate, she realized that she was in luck. The coast was clear.
She did secure that gate behind her. There was no way she would be responsible for any of her friends getting hurt.
Nancy crept down the street, keeping to the center. She stopped once, when she was about to lose sight of the school. She looked back and had a moment of doubt.
“Ah, you’re too stubborn to change your mind. Old bat!” she imagined Ern’s voice reprimanding her and smiled. Every word of it was true.
With a deep breath, she continued to walk.
Chapter 61
Rachel
November 12, 2:00 A.M.
Ern!
Rachel awoke with a start. The room was dark, but not so dark as to prevent Rachel from seeing the door, a dark rectangle against the darker walls of the room. She turned her head and looked over to Ethan’s and Christine’s beds.
Empty.
Maybe they’re still up? she wondered, but the cold sensation of dread filled her chest.
She raised herself up on her elbow and looked beside her to find that Joe was also gone.
Where the heck could they be? Rachel felt the grip of panic tighten.
No! Rachel, don’t. She forced herself to calm down.
Rachel lay back and took a deep breath, keeping her eyes closed for a long moment.
She heard a muffled noise as she opened her eyes again. She let her head roll to the side so she could look back towards the door. At first, she didn’t register the shape standing just in front of it. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized that it was a person.
An involuntary whimper escaped Rachel’s lips as her eyes locked onto the shape. It had not moved; it stood stock-still. Just then the moon shone into the room, reappearing from behind some clouds. It lit up the torso and face of the person. Rachel saw the clothing, covered in dirt and muck, and couldn’t prevent her eyes from traveling up towards the face.
Ern regarded her with dead eyes. The pupils had gone milky and reflected the moonlight, making it appear as if his eyes shone with dreadful intent.
“But you’re dead!” Rachel whimpered. Ern just stood there and looked at her. Rachel started to squirm in her bed.
Then, to her horror s a hand appeared beside her. Her gaze froze on it as it got closer. Rachel could see the dirt under the fingernails, the wrinkled skin on the gray fingertips, the gashes that didn’t bleed, and the exposed bone.
She shrank away from the hand as a second one joined it and felt a presence behind her. Forcing her eyes away from the approaching hands, she looked over her shoulder and saw yet more hands as they reached down.
Rachel yelled as the hands grabbed her roughly. Nails dug into her flesh. She fought with all her might, kicking and bucking in the bed, while the hands tore at her. Her eyes opened wide in panic and a mouth closed in. She redoubled her efforts.
With one powerful lunge, her forehead connected with something solid.
“YEAAHWW!” Joe shrieked, as he felt the cartilage in his nose snap. He fell backwards, clutching his nose.
“Mom! Stop!” Ethan yelled, trying to hold down the struggling woman.
Rachel froze as she heard her husband cry out in pain once more.
“Oh my God ...”
Realization hit her. Ethan was holding her down. Over his shoulder, Christine stood a few feet away. The look in their eyes was one of pure fear.
Fear of me!
Rachel couldn’t stand it. She started to cry.
Joe was there in an instant, wrapping her up in his arms. His broken and bleeding nose was all but forgotten as he clicked his tongue and stroked her hair.
“Ib’s awright honey. I’m here,” he whispered into her hair.
“Dad. Your nose,” Christine said. She still had not approached.
Rachel touched the top of her head and looked at the blood in her hand. It set her off again.
“I’m sorry!” she blurted between gasps, burying her face in Joe’s chest again.
Joe looked up and met Ethan’s eyes. His son was still by the side of the bed. He had withdrawn his hands and folded his arms tightly. He looked conflicted.
“Ib’s going to be awright,” Joe said, as much to his children as to his stricken wife.
Somebody knocked on the door a minute later, and Joe disentangled himself from his wife’s arms. “Sorry, deah, Ib’ve gob to go.”
