“That would be nice. I haven’t been able to sleep in an actual bed for … I don’t even remember.”
There has to be a few along the way and after a few more slow miles of driving they find one, a big sucker, one of those that probably cost half a million dollars new. It sits in the middle of the road on the other side of the median, its bright blue sides gleaming in the late afternoon sun.
There are other cars around and a few of them are inside, trapped. They watch her and Will with dead-eyed interest, their fingers scratching at the windows that keep them contained. She finds herself curious about them even though she doesn’t want to be curious. How did they get in there? She knows some of them can open doors. Did they trap themselves inside? Did they die and wake up locked inside?
She bypasses the gun for the crowbar Dan had once used to spear the eye of a woman she’d been sure was still alive.
She still doesn’t know if the woman had been one of them or not. It still bothers her.
“We kill the ones in the cars because we don’t know if they still have the brain function to get themselves out. And we don’t want them giving us away. So you’ll open the door, just a crack, just enough for them to get their heads out and then I’ll kill them. Got it?”
Will nods and they study the road for a long time before getting out. First thing Will does is squat down to look under the cars abandoned on the road and she nods in approval, though he doesn’t see it.
They are methodical and quick; they don’t give any of them time to realize their trap isn’t going to work. One does manage to get his door open, but Will dashes across the road and slams his body into the guy as he emerges, trapping his head between door and frame.
She jogs over and jabs the crowbar into the man’s eye, milky and dusty and not a living person’s eye at all.
“That all of them?” Will asks, though he knows as well as she does that it is.
“Pretty sure,” she says.
They pull the SUV up close to the RV, then do the same thing here they did with the cars, though nothing pokes its head out to get stabbed by her.
“They could be waiting for us inside,” he says.
She nods.
They enter carefully, taking their time, very aware of how tight the quarters are for all that the RV is so expensive. The interior is coated with gore, on the floor, on the walls and after a quick search that turns up a couple of suicides in the back room, they leave, disappointed and a little sick to their stomachs.
“Shoot,” he says.
Shoot indeed.
They pass storage units and a construction site, then find a roadside hotel modeled after a Swiss chateau. Maybe it’s stupid, but she likes the look of it. Even more, she likes the thought of a real bed.
“Shall we try our luck?”
“It’s probably full of them,” he says, the first hint of despair in his voice she’s heard.
He’s right. She knows it, but his disappointment is breaking her heart. “SUV is safer for sure,” she says and aches when his lip trembles, just a little.
“I know.” He looks longingly at the hotel, and she’s struck by how young he is, a year or two older than Jackson, if that.
And damn if she doesn’t want to give him something good in all this horror. “You know what? Let’s try. This time of year, they can’t have had many people. Parking lot has one car in it.”
He nods but the shadow doesn’t leave his face.
They have to find a way around the guardrails cordoning off the interstate from the highway that runs alongside it, then they park in front, both staring at the front door.
“We don’t have to do this,” he says, though not with any conviction. He’s thinking of the beds too. The sheets. Of pretending everything is okay for one night.
“I know,” she says. They take their time looking around, watching for the small movements, the flash of dead flesh, anything, but it’s quiet. When they’re satisfied, they get out and try the front door. There’s a sign that says, “Closed for the season. Come back when it snows.”
“Promising.” They go around to the side and then back, trying windows and doors. All locked.
“We could break a window, then block it up tight once we’re in,” she says.
“I know you’re doing this for me,” Will says. “And you don’t have to. I can sleep in the SUV, same as you.”
She ignores him and steps back, looking at the balcony above her head. “Think you can climb up there?”
He cranes his neck, then looks at the side of the building. “Could you pull the SUV around?”
“Sure.” She does, parking it right under the balcony. He makes the climb look ridiculously easy and in seconds he’s upstairs. His smile of triumph makes her smile.
Then one of them appears behind him. “Will!” she shouts.
His eyes go wide and he turns, but not fast enough. He goes down along with the creature attacking him. She can’t see them, she doesn’t know what’s happening. He has a knife on him, though, and she tells herself he’ll be okay. He’s got to be okay.
“Will!” She scrambles on top of the SUV and straightens. She can see him on the ground, the crazy on top of him. “Will?”
The crazy doesn’t move, but Will does, and she sags in relief.
“Are you okay? Answer me, kid? How’re you doing?”
He gives the zombie a shove and kicks at it to get it completely off him. He doesn’t answer her, though, just pushes himself up to standing,
