It wasn’t a question she needed an answer to because really, there wasn’t one. We’d flown in on Friday, living in a world that was sane, normal, that made sense and now everything had gone to hell in a handbasket. If only we’d waited another week. If only we’d told Rod to go screw himself. If only … “We’ll have an adventure to tell the grandkids,” I said. “Once we arrange post-apocalyptic marriages for the boys. A bad ass zombie killer for Jackson and a sweet one we save from a zombie cult for Tucker. We can take over Bill Gate’s mansion, dig up his lawns to put in vegetables, and raise goats by the Sound.”
“No brainwashed zombie cult girl for my boy.” She pressed the blanket down around her legs primly. “He’ll marry the young and spunky scientist who is working on a vaccine to save the world from the zombie menace.”
“Ah, good point. We still get to save the brainwashed zombie cult girl though, right? We could adopt her as our daughter. I’ve always wanted a daughter.”
Lana chuckled and laid her head on my shoulder. “We can adopt them all, my sweet, as long as they help muck the stables where we keep our goats.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Ivy leaned over and passed the phone back, tears in her eyes. “They’re alive. All of them. In Alliance, which is on the way to Seattle, if you ladies will do me a big favor to pass by?”
I shrugged. “Can you show us on a map?”
“Absolutely. In the morning. We’re in a good way to connect up with Highway 2, I think, which will take us directly into Alliance. I can stay with my girl and her daughters, help keep them safe until this all blows over.”
I wasn’t sure it was going to blow over, not if there wasn’t an actual spunky scientist working furiously on a cure, but I didn’t voice my doubts because I didn’t want to destroy the hope in Ivy’s eyes. “I’m guessing we can do that,” I said. “And if it’s not,” I added, feeling Lana’s gaze on me, “Then we’ll help you find a vehicle to get you there.”
“Sounds good. I’m glad I took a chance on asking if I could come with ya’ll. Could’ve been trapped back in Omaha, stuck in that firehouse until one of them crazies found their way in.” She snuggled down into her blankets. “One of you want this remote? I think I’m going to sleep.”
I took it and clicked off the TV. “I’m ready for some shut eye too. It’s been a rough few days and I didn’t sleep last night.”
We all snuggled down and damned if I didn’t manage to pass right out.
In the morning, we ate pancakes, eggs, and bacon, the smell of the sizzling pork fat a good way to start the day. Owen had cereal, a chocolate and peanut butter concoction that he snarfed down. Before he was even finished, he was begging his dad for more. That he’d rather have cereal than bacon just went to show that little kids were utter weirdos.
“I found an atlas,” Ivy said after we’d put away the dishes and stored the food in the fridge. Before dinner, I had idly wondered how long the electricity would last, and Dan said there was no way of knowing. It could go down today or stay up for a few weeks. The idea of not having electricity or running water terrified me. I knew humanity had survived a lot longer without those things than with them, but I’d lived all my life with lights I could flick on and off with a touch of my finger. How the hell would we manage without refrigeration? Without the ability to get fresh, clean water from the tap?
“Dee?”
“Sorry.” I shook off the dark ponderings and stood over the table, staring at the map of Nebraska. “Where are we?”
Ivy pointed to a spot about in the middle of the state. Then she drew a line to the town her daughter lived in on the extreme left side. I kept going, my gaze traveling over Wyoming, Montana, Idaho …
Washington looked so far away.
“We’re about three hours away from Alliance. Then you ladies need to head north this way.” She drew a line up toward South Dakota and tapped a place called Rapid City. “Get on the interstate here and then stay on that until you get home.”
“Sounds easy enough,” I said, though the sheer distance intimidated me. How the hell would we make it without getting killed somewhere along the way? Killed getting gas, killed resting, killed getting food.
“What about you, Dan? You and Owen? What do you want to do?”
He looked lost as he stared at the map, as lost as I felt. “I don’t know. I don’t have anyone anymore.” His eyes shifted to his son and away.
I looked at Lana, then said, “You have us now. And you’re welcome to come with us if you’d like. You and Owen.”
“Same goes for me, if you’d rather stay in Nebraska,” Ivy said. “My daughter would be all right with it and your boy is the same age as my youngest granddaughter. They’d probably have a great time playing together.”
Dan nodded, his chin trembling with pent up emotion. “Thank you,” he said gruffly, and then took Owen off to watch cartoons, presumably so we wouldn’t see him cry.
We exchanged glances, then Ivy said, “We pick up gas wherever we can do it safely. We can even tie extra gas containers to the roof, enough to get you all the way home. You can stop in empty areas to pee and gas up. Get you a bunch of food and water, maybe one of those small trailers that’ll hitch to the back.
