I wasn’t sure why I was nervous.
“Sword of Damocles,” I said, and Lana kissed my chin.
“Yes. I was thinking the same thing … sort of. I couldn’t remember the name of it.” Her grin made me smile and I kissed her back, mindful there was a roomful of people we didn’t know. Everyone had treated us well, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a bigot among them. “We aren’t in a position of power though.”
“But they are,” I said. They had officers on guard shifts, walking the perimeter both inside and out. It was both comforting and disturbing, especially since those on guard carried rifles. There was something so dystopian about it and it gave me a sick feeling in my stomach.
The world had gone to hell in a handbasket and we didn’t even know the scope of the shit we were in, not really. One city getting overrun didn’t mean that the rest of the country was the same but … it had spread so fast, so swiftly.
“Owen!”
One of them, howling the name outside. A young boy of maybe six jerked in a nearby man’s arms, his eyes white circles against his father’s black shirt. The man bent his head and whispered to the boy, his face tight with unshed emotion.
“Owen! Mommy loves you!”
“Mama!” The boy’s shriek echoed in the big hall and there were several grumbles and at least one muttered curse. “Mama!”
“Sir,” an officer said, coming by with his rifle carefully aimed at no one, “you need to keep him quiet.”
“I know. It’s just … He misses his mom.” The man’s voice cracked and he buried his face in his little boy’s hair.
“Mama, mama.” The boy continued crying for her until the captain came out and escorted them to a room in the back, perhaps the fire fighter’s bunk room. Once the boy was gone, the crazies outside eventually got the hint and quieted too.
“That poor little boy,” Lana whispered.
I kissed her again as we lay back down, though I was pretty sure I’d never get to sleep.
“What happens if Tucker and Jackson …” Lana doesn’t finish the sentence and I’m glad.
“They’re fine.” I willed it to be true with every fiber of my being. Hell, I put up a little offering to the gods: keep Lana alive, keep the boys alive and you can have me as a blood sacrifice. That was all I asked, that the three most special people in my life lived to see each other again.
“What if they’re not, though? What if they go out? What if one of those awful … things lures them out? They’re kindhearted, they’re—”
“Lana, my sweet, I love you. I love those boys. And yeah, they’re kindhearted. They are also ruthless and have a keen survival instinct. And they’ve been training for this moment for all their lives. Resident Evil? Left for Dead one, two, three, however many there are. State of Decay? They’ve got this.” I hoped they had this. I hoped they’d prove me right and not break their mother’s heart when we got there. I wasn’t sure Lana would forgive me if I was wrong.
“These things talk. They cry. They sound so real.”
“And we told them about it, remember? They’ll listen.” They had to listen. “Who’re you going to hug first?” I asked, hoping to distract her from her runaway thoughts. “I’ll bet you’ll go for Tuck.”
“No, not necessarily,” she said, though I heard the hedge in her voice. Tucker was her baby, for all that he was sixteen. She’d go for him first. That was fine. I’d get Jack, then Tuck, then my parents.
“What time is it?” I checked my fitness watch and curled my lip. “We should sleep. Still a couple hours ‘til dawn.”
“I don’t think I can,” she said, but she was soon zonked despite her protests and I laid there watching her breathe, cataloging all the beautiful features of her face.
It took me longer, but I fell asleep finally too.
A gunshot woke us both a couple hours later. The screams came next, one after another, a rolling wave of screams. I jumped up first, casting about for the danger, for a weapon, anything to keep us safe. I settled on a nearby chair, holding it feet-outward like a lion tamer.
Shouts from the cops outside. Another gunshot. Lana held onto my shoulder as we crept to the windows to see what was going on.
Bodies littered the ground and more hung on the barricades the cops had put in place.
The crazies were climbing over, not yelling or singing for once, just intent on getting to the living people on the other side. They didn’t worry about catching themselves when they fell; they merely threw themselves over and stumbled to their feet once they hit. The cops were doing their best to keep them at bay, but there were so damn many of them.
“Get to the car,” I said to Lana. “We have to get out of here.”
Ivy was halfway to us and I jerked my finger toward the lot in the back. She nodded and ran to grab her things while Lana and I did the same. When we got to the back door we had to stop. It was solid metal and there were no windows, so there was no way to tell if there were any of them out there waiting for us.
Ivy put her hand on the door. “Nothing ventured,” she said.
“No.” Lana’s knuckles were white as she gripped the bag draped over her shoulder. “It would be one thing if we were only risking our lives but we aren’t. If those things are out there and we open this door, they get in here. That puts everyone else at risk. I won’t do it.”
She was right, of course. I thought of that poor little boy, Owen,
