The sky was wide open, swirling, and gray. The drizzle that fell on his face was cold, but he was glad that he could feel it and that his boys could feel it. Though he had lost soldiers, he had saved lives as well. Those kids were the future, as much as any of them, and they deserved a chance at least.
But God, if they should die… he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about what it would mean for him or his men. That would tear them apart worse than anything the Annies could do, he suspected. He wished the kids were ugly, but even with their shaved heads, they were cute as a couple of buttons.
Ahead, Allen chopped the side of an Annie's skull open. It tumbled to the ground, and the blood flowed a little quicker than it had in the preceding days. It was getting warmer out. With any luck, the snow would melt. They could really move then, and they wouldn't have to worry about any crawlers hidden under the snow. That would be nice.
They passed the dead Annie lying in the road. Tejada tossed a glance back towards the kids. The boy looked on, no fear on his face. This was the world he was growing up in. This was all that he would know. But the girl, she refused to look. She refused to behold the horror of the dead Annie in the snow. She knew a different world. Perhaps she had even gone to pre-school. She could write after a fashion, and she seemed the more social of the two. For her, this world terrified her.
Damn him and his soft heart. He almost made another vow to harden his heart, but he knew that wasn't who he was. He knew that's not who he would ever be. So, he knew there would be another Day, another Ramirez, or another Quigs. But he trucked on, putting one foot forward as the world thinned out around them, the buildings coming less often now, tall trees and open meadows taking their place.
****
They had lost their tail simply enough, winding through another industrial complex on the edge of civilization. It was the last set of buildings in sight along the highway. None of them fancied camping out in the cold, so they had decided to end their day early. Besides, the children looked frozen, their skin pale and sickly. For his own part, Allen wished he had stopped and found some hand-warmers in the Fred Meyer they had raided.
His hands felt like blocks of ice, and his feet felt like something colder than ice—like they weren't even there. Worst of all, his jacket hung heavy, soaked with cold rain, so he was more than happy to end their march though there were still a few hours of daylight.
They decided to make camp inside an ale house in the hopes that they could find some food or drink to supplement their meager supplies. They spotted the bar from the highway, and then curled and wound their way through the industrial complex, losing Annies at every turn. As they approached the ale house, they sprinted, Allen outpacing everyone. He fired three quick shots at the glass door of the ABV Public House. They crawled through the bottom half of the door one by one.
Once inside, they pulled tables and chairs over to the shattered door and created a barricade as quickly and as quietly as possible. Then they sat in silence, breathing into their hands and shrugging out of their wet clothes. This camp, as Allen liked to think of it, was not nearly as secure as the other camps they had made.
The entire front of the bar was comprised of floor-to-ceiling windows of darkly tinted glass. The glass was so dark that it would be impossible to see inside unless they turned on lights. For this reason, they sat in darkness, catching their breath and trying to get warm.
The public house looked as if it had been untouched since the dead began to walk. A set of coolers ran around the north and east walls of the bar. Inside, bottles sparkled in the darkness. Allen's mouth watered at the prospect of beer. It had been a while since he had tasted one. He hadn't had a beer since the summer when they had found an overturned beer truck and drank piss-warm beers as they walked down the street, a trail of Annies chasing after them. He found that it wasn't so much the feeling of being drunk that he was looking forward to, but the calories that the beer represented.
His stomach had shrunk steadily over the last few months, but still, discipline kept him from ever actually feeling full with the portions of food that he ate. The beer ought to do it.
"Stop admiring the goods and check out the back rooms," Tejada said.
Allen nodded, and with a silently praying Brown at his side, they searched the backside of the pub. They went into the kitchen first. It was clean, spartan even. Though, a small layer of dust had settled onto the slick, silver surfaces. The floor was slippery with that same layer of dust. He checked the racks and cupboards for anything of use. There were some staples here, some foods that they could use. He opened the large, steel door of the freezer, and then slammed it shut as the smell of spoiled meat hit his nose.
"What the fuck did you do that for?" Brown asked.
"I don't know. I just wanted to see."
"We're going to be smelling that shit all night."
They left the kitchen, carrying
