Among Monsters Page 12

  "Uh...let's weigh the pros and cons."

  "Sounds good."

  I thought for a moment. "You could travel faster without Halle. You could maybe get there and back if Mom has her car and, by some miracle, still has gas."

  "Let's not bet on that. We're talking about you and Halle being here alone for at least one full night, and that's if everything went perfectly."

  "That's a scary thought. We could do it though, especially if we found something to cover the windows."

  "How important is it to you that we leave tomorrow?" he asked. "If we take the time to prepare, I could fortify the windows downstairs. I might even be able to find a car with gas. We could drive out of here and be at the ranch in fifteen minutes."

  I sighed. I was frustrated with the choice, but that was only because the smart thing to do meant not seeing Mom the next day. She was only about fifteen miles away. Knowing we were so close was maddening.

  "We have to at least find something to reinforce the windows," I said, defeated.

  "Your birthday is in five weeks," Dad said.

  "Yeah? That means we missed the Fourth of July, not that we had fireworks," I said without emotion.

  Birthdays and holidays didn't mean what they used to. From now on, it would just signify another year of survival.

  "My daughter will be fourteen. Hard to believe," he said before taking in a slow, deep breath.

  "Harder to believe than a zombie apocalypse?" I said with a smirk he couldn't see.

  I could hear him scratching at his beard. "I promise that you'll spend your birthday with your mom, Jenna. How about that?"

  A smile crept across my face. "That would be the best present you could give me. That, and you shaving."

  "Done," he said. "Now, get some rest. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

  I nodded and closed my eyes.

  DAD HAD BEEN GONE FOR HOURS when I saw him. A dirty large man was walking down the road, but he wasn't shuffling. He was alive. Part of me wanted to yell out from the second-story window, to pound on the glass until he looked up, but I didn't know who he was.

  This far into a worldwide disaster, people who had once been civil became desperate to survive. That meant stealing and robbing and doing other things that I didn't want to think about. The man below could be helpful, or he could take all our food--or worse.

  I let him walk by, and then I searched the streets again for my dad, letting my eyes skip over all ages of infected ambling about.

  "I'm hungry," Halle said, tugging on my shirt. "And I'm mad."

  "Why?" I asked, turning to see the sour look on her face.

  "We were supposed to see Mom today," she said, trying to keep the whine from her voice and the tears from her eyes.

  "I know. I wanted to see her today, too. But we were surprised to see this many of those things in Shallot, and it made us wonder how many might be between here and the ranch. We have to have a plan, Halle. We're almost there. We don't want to make a mistake when we've come this far, right?"

  She pulled her mouth to the side. "I guess."

  "I'm disappointed, too. It's hard being this close and not just going to see her. But she is going to be so happy to see us. We have to concentrate on that."

  Halle could no longer keep the tears from her eyes. "I'm going to be happy to see her, too!" She threw her arms around me, and I hugged her. "I miss her so much, Jenna! I want Mom!"

  "Me, too," I said, feeling my own lip quivering. "We just have a few more things to do, and then we can go. But for now, let's scrape up some lunch. Dad will be really hungry when he gets home."

  Halle lifted her glasses and wiped her eyes. I looked out the window again, and I saw the man walking back by. He had a bag with several gun barrels sticking out of the top. He wasn't searching. He knew exactly where he was going. I watched him until he disappeared under the awning of the house on the next block. It was the last house on the road. I swallowed and then let Halle pull me down the stairs.

  As I put a pot of ravioli on the cooktop, the back door opened and closed. I scrambled for Dad's rifle and stood in front of Halle, cocking it at the same time.

  "Good girl," Dad said. "Don't waste time asking who it is."

  I blew out a breath of relief. "You scared the crap out of me."

  Dad raised an eyebrow, putting down all the plastic sacks in his hands. "The undead are walking around outside, and I scared you?"

  "A guy was walking around outside," I said.

  "Lots of guys are walking around outside," he said, absently digging through his sacks.

  "No, like a real guy, an alive guy. He walked down to that brick house we couldn't get in, and then he walked back down the street to the house on the end of the road by the pasture."

  Dad froze. "What did you do?"

  I shrugged. "I did nothing. I didn't recognize him, and Halle and I were alone. What took you so long?"

  "He's living at the end of the street? What was he doing in the brick house?"

  "He was packing a lot of guns. I think he found them at that house. He didn't see us. I don't think he knows we're here."

  Dad let the air escape that he'd been holding. "Good. That's good. We should be more careful. I'm glad I have smart kids."

  "Are you going to answer my question?"

  "Oh, I had to find something to carry back the plywood. I found a lumberyard and a tiny general store that was mostly empty."

  "You have blood on your shirt," I said, looking at him more closely. "And your face."

  Dad looked down and then reached into his pocket. He handed me a piece of paper. It was my note to Mom that I had given to Darla.

  "Where did you get this?" I asked, excited. "Did you see Brad and Darla?"

  Dad lowered his eyes, his face solemn.

  My hand went up to my mouth. "No. Oh no! Both of them?"

  He didn't answer. He didn't have to.

  "What about Logan and Maddy?"

  "That's what took me so long. I wanted to make sure they weren't alone somewhere."

  "Did you find them?"

  His eyes lost focus, the image in his mind troubling him. "Yeah."

  I took in a staggered breath and covered my face. I sat down hard onto a chair next to the kitchen table.

  "What?" Halle said, not understanding.

  I shook my head, got myself together, and wiped my eyes before smiling at Halle.

  "I'm just glad they got to where they were going," I said, turning to walk over to the stove. I stirred the ravioli in the pot, forcing the sadness away.

  Dad walked up behind me and kissed the crown of my head. "You can give your mom the note yourself."

  I nodded.

  "I found the keys to a Taurus with gas, but it had a bad alternator. I'll look again tomorrow. I'm going to put up these boards this afternoon. I need you to watch my back."

  "Okay," I said, pulling the pot from the stove.

  Dad washed his hands and face. Then, he took one of the bowls I'd poured the ravioli into and set it on the table in front of Halle. "I have something else for you, Pop Can."

  "What?" she asked, turning to look up at him.

  He held a pair of white Skechers in front of him. They were slip-ons with bungee-cord laces.

  Halle gasped and used her toes to kick off her shoes. Then, she pulled the Skechers onto her feet. She walked toward the living room and then back. "They fit!"

  I clapped and gave Dad a high five. "Yay!"

  Dad went back to the kitchen for our bowls of ravioli, and after I took my bowl from him, we each sat down on an end of the table.

  "I found out what the smoke was from," Dad said. "The gas station is in ashes. Looks like someone hit it with a car. That explains the huge explosion."

  "Man. Bad way to go out," I said, chewing.

  "A lot of the infected are charred, too. That's what the smell is from."

  "You called it," I said.

  "But the silver lining is, you can smell them coming, even more than u
sual."

  "This is nice," Halle said, kicking her feet back and forth and chewing with her mouth open. "All we need is Mom."

  Dad and I craned our necks in Halle's direction.

  "What?" she asked.

  Dad spent the next day looking for keys to cars with gas, and Halle and I played hide-and-seek in the big house with promises not to scream when one of us found the other.

  I caught the man making another trip to the red brick house again, and he brought out more guns. For the last week, he'd done this every day around mid-morning, and then he stopped. I was beginning to wonder how many guns were in that house. From my reports, Dad had learned when not to be on our road, so he wouldn't cross paths with a man who obviously had a lot of firepower.

  A few days after the man had stopped making trips to the brick house, I saw him again. This time, he was heading north. When the gunfire began, I panicked, worrying that Dad had run into him, but Dad returned quickly after, worried that it was Halle and me who had had the run-in.

  After that, I would watch the man walk north every day. The sporadic gunfire would go on for an hour or two, and then shortly after, he would return home. It didn't take long for me to figure out what he was doing. He was slowly clearing the infected from the town, but I still didn't trust him enough to introduce myself.

  A week had gone by, and I vowed to be patient.

  Halfway through week two, that patience was waning.

  At the end of week three, I began to feel resentful. Dad had stopped going out every day, and even though I tried really hard to trust him, he hadn't talked about a plan in quite a while.

  One evening after dinner, I saw a group walking down the road. My eyes bulged. It was three men and a woman. They looked like they'd been on the road for a while.

  "Dad!" I called as quietly as I could to the lower level. "Dad!"

  "What?" he said, quickly climbing up. He looked out the window and then pushed me to the side, out of sight. "Who are they?" he asked, his back to the wall.

  He was turned just right to keep an eye on them, and I mimicked his stance.

  My eyebrows pulled together. "Why are you asking me?"

  Dad shrugged. "Because you called me up here."

  "Because there are people, new ones. That's worth mentioning, isn't it?"

  We watched them while they hacked and stabbed at the infected. They seemed pretty adept, and I felt strangely drawn to them. The men were all dark-haired--one, tall and buff; one, very tall; and the other, short but clearly athletic. The woman was slender, her face hidden beneath a ball cap. Her hair was either very short or tucked up into the hat. The only way I could tell it was a woman was by her prominent...chest. She must have been tough to run with those three guys. One of the taller ones looked like a serial killer--albeit, a cute one. He reminded me of that actor who always played a soldier in movies.

  "It's dark. They'd better find some shelter," Dad said.

  "I think that's what they're doing. Oh no."

  "What?" he said, leaning against the window to get a better look.

  "They're going into the neighbor's house. He's home."

  "Well, if we hear gunshots, we'll know they didn't get along."

  The streetlights went out--all of them.

  Dad went into the bathroom and flipped the switch. Nothing. He scrambled to the bathtub and began filling it with water.

  I walked over to the doorway, staring at him. "What are you doing?"

  "Go downstairs and do the same. When the electricity goes, so does the water! Go!"

  I did as he'd commanded. I rushed down the stairs to the other bathroom and turned the tub faucet, opening it all the way.

  After his tub was full, Dad ambled downstairs. "Well, that's it, I guess. Easy days are over."

  "It's been easy? I think I'll go kill myself now."

  Dad scowled. "Not funny."

  "Sorry," I said. "You didn't really let us use the electricity anyway."

  "The fridge," he grumbled.

  "Oh, yeah," I sulked.

  Halle called to Dad from the bed, and we blew out the candles and walked upstairs together. He went to bed, and I stood at the window, waiting for gunshots that never happened.

  I couldn't shake the feeling that the group we had seen meant protection. I wanted to call out to them, be with them. Something about them felt safe.

  I walked away from the window, wondering what was going on inside the neighbor's house, and I crawled into bed next to Halle. I worried about waking up to company of the uninfected variety, but at the same time, I hoped we would.

  In the morning, I scrambled from bed so quickly that Dad jumped up in a panic.

  "What?" he said, blinking.

  I stood at the window, looking for any signs of the group. If they had decided to move on from Shallot, I assumed they would start at first light, and I was right. The men and woman had already passed our house, and walked along our street toward the highway, fearlessly taking down any infected that came within ten feet. But this time, the neighbor was with them.

  "They know each other," Dad said from behind me. "Maybe he's been waiting for them this whole time."

  "Or maybe they just met last night, and he's leaving with them because they're from someplace better?" I said.

  "Maybe they're leading him to his death?"

  I wrinkled my nose. "That doesn't make any sense. You're paranoid."

  "Ya think?"

  I turned to him. "When are we leaving?"

  "I'm working on it," Dad said.

  "What does that mean?" I asked.

  Dad retreated to the bathroom, rubbing the back of his neck. He always did that when he and Mom fought, especially when she was making points he didn't have a rebuttal to.

  I breathed out in frustration, shaking my head. He couldn't stay in the bathroom forever. I checked on Halle, and upon seeing her still sleeping deeply, I walked downstairs, lighting the candles in the kitchen and living room.

  When Dad finally came down, I didn't waste any time.

  "Have you thought about it?"

  "Jenna," he said with a sigh, "don't rush me."

  "Rush? We've been here for weeks. Are you at least going to go out today?"

  "I'm going to check out the neighbor's house and see if he left anything behind."

  "What does it matter if we're leaving?"

  "Just because the neighbor left doesn't mean we have to."

  "I don't want to leave because the neighbor did. I want to see my mom!"

  Halle plodded down the stairs. "Why are you yelling?" she croaked.

  "We're not," Dad said. "What do you want for breakfast? Pop-Tarts?"

  "Sure," Halle said, sitting at the table.

  I stomped into the nearly empty pantry and then tossed the box onto the table. The last five silver packages spilled out, some falling to the floor.

  "Jenna!" Dad leaned back and then forward to clean the mess. "What's gotten into you?"

  "My birthday is coming up. You promised."

  "I know, and I said, I'm working on it."

  "Working on what? You haven't left the house in days! We're running out of food!"

  "Jenna," Dad said, glancing at Halle, "I haven't found a car. I'm...prolonging the inevitable."

  "Which is what?" I asked, crossing my arms.

  "I can't leave you alone. What if something happens while I'm gone?"

  "Then, let's go!" I insisted.

  "I've been..." He trailed off, already regretting his next words. "I've been wandering out that way, going a little bit farther every day. A lot of infected are on the roads, Jenna, and not just that. They're in the fields, and..."

  "And what?"

  "When I got to the white tower you girls have talked about, they're everywhere. Dead. I mean, dead, dead. It got worse, the farther I walked. Something's going on over there, and I don't like it."

  I snorted. "You're worried about dead infected? Isn't that a good thing?"

  "That group has me nervous.
"

  "That's stupid. Why don't we just start walking? The neighbor left with that group, and he's been smart about things. What if they're from Red Hill?"

  "I have a bad feeling, Jenna! Something's off! I've felt this way for the past two weeks, like something bad is getting ready to happen."

  "It's because my birthday is coming up, and you know that's your deadline. You're comfortable. You're complacent! But I'm not letting Mom think that we're dead one more day because you have a bad feeling!"

  "Okay! All right!" he said, holding up his hands. "We'll leave in the morning."

  "Really?" I said, perking up.

  "Really. But if anything happens, no matter how far we are, we're coming straight back here. Do you understand?"

  I agreed, and Halle did, too.

  "And...we need to talk about...we need to talk about what to do and where to go if she's not there."

  I sat back in my chair, feeling like I'd been gut-punched. "She's there," I said. "She's waiting for us, and you're going to feel like a huge jerk for even putting that awful thought in our heads."

  "I hope so," Dad said, spooning soup into Halle's bowl. "I've never wanted to feel like a jerk more in my entire life."

  THE SUN HAD JUST PEEKED OUT from the horizon when we stepped into the backyard. Halle and I had taken extra steps to look nice for Mom. I'd braided her hair, and she'd tucked in her shirt.

  "Mom will get to see my new shoes!" she said with a wide grin and bright eyes.

  It was the happiest I'd seen her in a long time.

  "That's right. For now, let's stay focused and keep an eye out. Remember what Dad said about lots of weird stuff on the roads. Listen, and pay attention to your surroundings."

  Halle emphatically bobbed her head.

  I had helped her slip on her backpack, and I had tied her jacket around her waist before we left the house. Her head seemed bare, and I realized her hat was still in my hand.

  "Don't forget this," I said, handing it to her.

  Dad was quiet, but I didn't want to talk to him about it. I was afraid he'd change his mind.

  We walked down the back alley as the birds and crickets chirped. The gravel crunched beneath our feet, and Dad's pants made that familiar swishing noise that I only noticed when we were on foot.

  Dad had been forced to tighten his belt two notches since all this had started, and his pants sagged in the backside. I didn't make a habit of looking in the mirror, but it wasn't hard to see that we had all lost weight. The more I thought about it, the more I prepared myself that Mom would look different, too.