Alex doesn’t answer. Just nods. Her expression reminds Dee of Dan’s after Isaac and Paisley walked into the storm. It scares her.
They load themselves back into the SUV and get on the road. Smoke still billows into the sky from the explosions and it makes their drive easier. So easy, in fact, they are able to make their way into Kirkland, where Peter and Gloria live.
Where Will once lived. Before.
Peter hands Dee Will’s wallet and she directs them to his family’s home. There’s nothing left. The buildings on that block are burnt to a crisp, half of them collapsed in on themselves. They get themselves as close to the address as they can, and Dee exits the SUV after a long moment of watching.
She has Will’s wallet and she walks up the sidewalk, trying to think of what she can say. There is nothing she can say, nothing that will ever ease this endless sadness that seems to have fallen on the world.
When she gets to the front stoop, the only thing not burnt in whatever terrible conflagration swept through Will’s neighborhood, she stops and stares down at the wallet. “I’m sorry, Will, that I didn’t save you. I’m sorry you got hurt, that you struggled so hard and it still didn’t make a damn bit of difference.” She licks her lips. “I’m sorry that there’s no one here to get your wallet. I wish …” She doesn’t know what she wishes. Wishes have a way of backfiring anyway, don’t they? “I hope that you’ve found peace. I hope you’re with your family if they’re …” She trails off again. The wind sighs softly. Bird song fills the silence, the tick of the SUV’s motor, her breathing. She thinks of Will, of his body still in that motel on the side of the road. Then she bends down and lays the wallet on the step. “Goodbye, Will.” She presses her fingers to her lips and then to the wallet.
When she gets back into the truck, Alex curls up against her and Dee strokes her hair as they continue on to Peter and Gloria’s home. The couple has decided they don’t want to stay. They’ll go home, grab a few things, and then they will go to Eatonville too. “I want out of the city,” Peter says. Gloria nods along.
Dee knows how this goes. People get together to survive and then the world, this apocalypse, picks them off one by one.
She hopes it doesn’t happen again. She hopes they survive, that she survives.
She knows it’s stupid to hope but she does anyway.
When they get to their next destination, there are more of them. They are too far away to hear the explosion, and they don’t seem interested in the black smoke to the south.
“More car alarms?” Peter asks, and when they agree, he drives a few blocks and starts setting off alarms. When they get back, there are only a few of them left. Dee uses her gun to take out two and Peter takes out the other three.
“You ready honey?”
Gloria nods. “As I’ll ever be.”
“Dee? Take the wheel. Drive around if you have to. Give us thirty minutes. We’ll watch for you on the balcony.”
Dee nods and slides behind the wheel. Alex gets onto the passenger seat and they wait until the couple gets inside before they drive off. Dee wonders if it will be the last time she ever sees them. She hopes not, but she prepares herself for that eventuality. She considers telling Alex to expect it, then says nothing. The poor woman is still crying. She doesn’t want to add to her misery.
They drive around for the prescribed thirty minutes, then Dee circles back. It’s almost surreal to see Gloria wave from the balcony, and it’s even more surreal when they get in, arms full of things they’d collected from their home, including a cast iron skillet that Gloria wields like a baseball bat.
“It makes great meat and it splits skulls. How could I resist?” Her eyes are almost too manic, and Dee realizes they must have found their dogs. Dee reaches back and squeezes Gloria’s hand, and then she pulls away from the curb. Gloria and Peter both look back, long after their home is no longer in sight. When they turn to look ahead once again, both of them have eyes that are wet with unshed tears.
43
Now
It takes them two weeks to get out of the city. The dead are everywhere. No matter where they turn, no matter what they do, they can’t seem to shake them. The hope Dee felt when she saw Tucker’s note slowly fades the longer it takes them to escape. Under normal circumstances, it would take an hour and a half on a good traffic day to get to Eatonville. The fact that it’s taken two weeks to go ten miles makes Dee want to scream.
She knows, though, if she starts screaming she won’t stop, so she pushes all thoughts of her kids away. They’re safe, she tells herself. They’re safe and there’s nothing else she can do for them right now but survive.
Alex is a mess, but she helps them anyway, shooting them when she needs to, running when she needs to, being quiet when she needs to. She makes love to Dee every night they have a modicum of privacy with a fierceness that scares Dee. After one lovemaking session that leaves Dee’s muscles as limp as noodles, she asks, “You aren’t planning to kill yourself, are you Alex?”
Alex scoffs, though her eyes slide away from Dee’s in a way she doesn’t like at all.
“Alex. I know it was hard finding your family like that. I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could say that would make it better. All I know is you’ll never find out if things get better if you take your life.”
Alex closes her eyes, tears slipping from beneath her eyelashes. “Things
