Among Monsters: A Red Hill Novella Read online

  Joey approached us slowly. He took the gun from my hands, clicked the safety, and then put it on the floor nearby before gently wrapping his large arms around Halle and me. My knees gave way, but he effortlessly bore my weight.

  “Okay,” he said in a comforting tone, “we’re going to get you to your mom. She is going to…I don’t even know. I can’t wait to see her smile.”

  That thought helped dry my tears, and I looked down to Halle. “Get your things. We’re going to see Mom.”

  Halle ran to fetch her backpack, and I grabbed mine before slinging the rifle over my shoulder.

  Joey picked up his weapons, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I found you. I can’t believe you’re both alive.”

  “Does she think we’re dead?”

  “Nope. She’s been watching the hill for you every day. She never gave up.”

  For the first time since the morning we’d left for Red Hill with Dad, I was filled with hope.

  “Here, let me carry those,” he said, taking our packs. “It’s dark, so listen for anything shuffling around. Stay close.”

  “Okay,” we said in unison.

  This is really happening. Mom is just a couple of minutes away.

  Joey stepped out of the back door, and I began to follow him, but then the door slammed in my face.

  Joey turned to face us while an infected sank its teeth into his neck.

  “No,” I said, looking into his wide eyes while flattening my palms against the Plexiglas. “No!”

  “Stay inside,” he whispered before pushing backward and then stumbling away. Several infected followed him, and then he disappeared into the darkness.

  Halle took a breath and began to scream, but I covered her mouth and pulled her to the floor. I reached up and turned the lock, and then I rocked her while we listened to the crickets and the excited moans of infected shuffling through the yard after Joey.

  I concentrated on my breathing, trying to slow it down. My eyes began to get fuzzy, and my nose felt numb.

  I held my breath for a moment, and then I took in a shallow breath through my nostrils before blowing it out. The next one was more controlled. After several more of those, I felt better.

  I realized I was still rocking Halle, my hand covering her mouth. I quickly pulled my hand away, and she wiped her eyes.

  “Are we still going to see Mom?” she whispered.

  “It’s too risky. We’ll catch her in the morning before she leaves town.”

  “He has my backpack,” Halle said, her bottom lip quivering.

  “I’ll find you a new one.”

  I pulled a dresser in front of the bottom of the stairs and set drinking glasses and vases on top, just like we had done our first night. Then, I did the same at the top of the stairs.

  Halle and I didn’t attempt to sponge bathe like usual. We just went straight to bed. I knew that no matter what happened, the next day would be a long one.

  “I want Mom,” Halle whimpered.

  “Me, too. We’re going to see her tomorrow.”

  “You keep saying that, but we never do.”

  “I promise, Halle. One way or another, we will see Mom tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  It took Halle longer than usual to fall asleep, and then she jerked and muttered and cried in her sleep, likely dreaming about Joey or Dad.

  The moaning outside continued for hours, and I wondered if I was ever going to fall asleep. The heat didn’t help, and neither did thinking every noise was an infected trying to get into the house or thinking about seeing Mom the next day.

  I thought about the first time I had seen the group, and I wondered if the woman I had seen was Mom.

  Did she look so different that I wouldn’t recognize her? Would she recognize us? Would she think we had changed? Had she?

  I thought about Connor and how different he was from the boy April had described and how quickly he had changed. We had been apart from Mom for months, and by Joey’s description, she was now in the business of killing zombies so that we could get to Red Hill. I imagined what she was like now. It didn’t matter how much she’d changed though. With her was the only place I wanted to be, and it was worth anything to get there.

  My eyes finally began to feel heavy, and I let it take me away from Shallot to the halls of Bishop Middle School.

  I walked and talked with Chloe, confused about where my classes were, and I was frustrated because I couldn’t remember my locker combination.

  Chloe shook her head and frowned at me. “Jenna?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Wake up.”

  I opened my eyes to see Halle leaning over me, pushing up her black-rimmed glasses. “Jenna? Are we seeing Mom today?”

  I pushed her to the side and sat up, seeing the bright sun shining through the windows. “No. No!” I said, running to the window at the top of the stairs.

  They would have left at first light. I’d overslept. I’d missed them.

  “Fill the canteen with water, Halle!” I said, pushing the dresser out of the way. “We’re leaving!”

  I stuffed the last slices of beef jerky into my back pocket. I grabbed the rifle, the last box of ammo, and then a sack full of newspapers with a box of matches.

  “Get the bat and Dad’s hunting knife,” I said.

  “What are you doing with that?” Halle asked, pointing to the matches.

  I looked outside, seeing several infected in the backyard. The street had several, but there weren’t so many that we couldn’t outrun them.

  “We’re going out the front door.”

  “Why?” she asked. We’d never done that before because there were often infected in the street.

  I dumped the bag of papers onto the couch and pushed it against the wall, draping the curtains over the cushions. I lit several matches, held them under a few newspapers, and then watched as it turned into flames. The other papers caught, and I tossed some of the bullets into the fire.

  “What are you doing?” Halle cried.

  “Creating a diversion,” I said, watching as the flames climbed the curtains.

  The room quickly began to fill with smoke, so I opened the front door and pulled Halle through.

  We ran out into the street, straight into a group of infected.

  We ran the other way, stopped by several more.

  “Jenna,” Halle said, afraid.

  Smoke billowed from the front door, and then one of the plywood sheets broke open with a snap. The infected turned toward the house, but when I pulled Halle along, they began to follow.

  Then, the bullets began to pop and crack, gaining the full attention of the creatures. I tugged on Halle’s hand, and we sprinted for the highway, finally passing the car sitting in the middle of the road. I only slowed down when Halle began to fall behind.

  We stopped for a moment, both grabbing our knees and heaving until we caught our breaths. The sun was bearing down on us, and only then did I realize I hadn’t grabbed a hat or sunscreen for Halle.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, knowing Halle’s pained expression matched mine. “We have to hurry if we’re going to get to Red Hill before dark.”

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “She’s probably almost there by now.”

  “When will we get there?”

  “Before dark, if we’re lucky.”

  I took the first step, and Halle followed.

  We held hands, the summer sun merciless, the road sending sizzling heat up our legs. My pants were an inch shorter than they had been in the spring, and Halle’s were, too. The cicadas hissed in the grass as we passed by.

  Every fifteen minutes or so, I would initiate a jog but only for as long as Halle could go.

  “It’s too hot to run,” Halle said.

  “But if we don’t once in a while, we won’t make it before dark.”

  “I’m thirsty,” she said.

  I pulled the canteen strap from around my neck and handed it to her. She took a big sip.
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br />   “Easy, Pop Can. That has to last us all day.”

  “Sorry,” she said, handing it back. “Jenna?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Please don’t call me that. It makes me miss Dad.”

  “Sorry,” I said.

  I could see a small group of infected ahead, and I quietly alerted Halle. It wasn’t safe to travel too far into the wheat field, but I decided it was better than trying to run around them.

  “Listen to the wheat,” I said. “You can hear them coming.”

  Halle nodded, and we ducked into the tall stalks. Leaning down, we tiptoed past the half-dozen infected. There were a few children with them, and it made me feel nauseous.

  That wasn’t going to happen to us, not before we saw our mom.

  After we were several blocks ahead of the group, we leaped out of the stalks and kept a quick pace until they were so far behind that we couldn’t see them.

  “Look,” Halle said, pointing to the pillar of smoke in the air. “That’s our house.”

  “No going back now even if we wanted to.”

  “I don’t want to anyway,” Halle said.

  “If something happens to me, you keep going,” I said.

  “Jenna—”

  “I’m serious, Halle. Keep being sneaky until you get there. You know the way. Just keep walking, keep listening, and pay attention to your surroundings. You’ll get there.”

  Halle screamed, and we stumbled back. A large infected stumbled out from the wheat field in front of us and then another.

  “Stay away!” I called to Halle. “Keep an eye out!”

  She had the bat, so I used the stock of my gun to wipe out the infected’s knees. Then, I took out the large knife tucked in the back of my pants and thrust downward into its eye. His arms and legs went limp. Then, I swung the rifle high before hitting the second one in the head with a thwack. She toppled backward, and then I hit her a second time. She didn’t move, but I was only holding the barrel of the rifle in my hand. It had broken in half when I hit her.

  “No!” I said, looking at the useless metal in my hand. I tossed it to the ground and kicked at it. “Crap!” I yelled.

  Halle shushed me. “You can’t fix it?” she asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Let’s go.” I took her hand, and we continued on the asphalt.

  It was miserably hot and sticky, and after a while, we quit holding hands because the sweat made them slip away anyway.

  Every five minutes or so, I had to encourage Halle to keep up. Every mile we gained, the more decomposed bodies were piled on each side of the road. I could tell they’d been dragged, and I knew it was Mom clearing the way for us, telling us to keep going.

  “Halle,” I said, breathless and exhausted, “look.”

  “THE WHITE TOWER!” Halle said, squinting one eye as she looked upward.

  A tall white tube loomed above us, standing as a beacon for Red Hill. We left the highway for red dirt, and our pace naturally quickened.

  “It’s not far now!” I said, encouraging my sister. “Just a few more miles to the cemetery, and then we’re practically there!”

  We passed a large feedlot. I remembered hundreds, if not thousands, of cows milling about before, but now, there weren’t any. We came across a large pile of dead infected and gave them a wide berth just in case.

  After another hour of walking, I stopped and handed Halle the canteen. She took a large gulp and handed it to me. I did the same and then I reached back for the beef jerky. It wasn’t there. I turned around in a circle, as if it would appear if I could just see it.

  “It must have fallen out when I scuffled with the infected.”

  Halle’s shoulders sagged. “It’s okay. Let’s keep going.”

  “I’m so proud of you,” I said to Halle.

  “We’re almost there, right? And Mom’s there, right?” she said.

  I could hear the exhaustion in her voice.

  “Yes, and yes. I don’t know how much farther, but I know we’re going to get there before dark.”

  I hoped I was right. The sun was getting lower in the sky, and we had been walking for hours. We had to be close.

  “Look!” Halle said, pointing ahead. “The cemetery!”

  I grabbed her hand, and we ran toward it before turning left.

  “Just a couple of more miles, Halle! We’re almost there!”

  “She is going to be so happy! Do you think she’ll cry?”

  “Yes. And I will, too.”

  Halle teared up, and so did I. Our hair was soaked in sweat, our lips were dry and chapped, our noses and foreheads were both bright pink from the sun, and I’d lost track of how many days it had been since we’d had a real shower. We weren’t as pretty as we had wanted to be, but Mom wouldn’t care.

  “My side is hurting,” Halle said.

  “Want to get on my back?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No, it’ll slow us down.”

  I smiled at her. She was so smart.

  After another mile, we hit an intersection. To the right, about a hundred yards away, was a hill, and on the other side of that hill was the ranch. My stomach fluttered, and my heart began to pound. We were almost there.

  “There’s the hill,” I said to Halle, pulling her to the west, toward the setting sun.

  She dropped the bat as if she were letting go of all the bad things that had happened to us up to that point. “Good thing, too,” she said. “It’ll be dark soon.”

  I wanted to run, but I was just too tired, and I knew Halle was, too. So, we held hands as we approached the hill and climbed over. I looked at the farmhouse hoping to see Mom outside. Two people were sitting on the roof.

  “I think that’s Mom!” I said. “Look, Halle, on the roof!”

  Two men ran out of the house. One climbed up a ladder to the roof, yelling, and the other waved his arms at us.

  Halle and I began to run, and the woman on the roof shouted something in an excited, high-pitched voice.

  “It’s Mom!” I said, trying not to run ahead of Halle.

  They began calling to us. Happy tears streamed down my face. I tightly gripped Halle’s hand, worried I would get too excited and run too fast.

  The men began to run toward us and then a woman followed. Mom stayed on the roof and aimed the rifle she was holding.

  Something is wrong.

  Mom began to panic, shrieking words I couldn’t understand. I slowed down, pulling Halle to a stop, and I looked around. The wheat was swishing. Mom could see something we couldn’t. There were infected in the field. They were heading toward us.

  “Run!” Mom screamed.

  I looked behind me, tightened my grip on Hall’s hand, and began sprinting toward the farmhouse. The men were running toward us, weapons in hand. They must be friends of Mom’s. They were just as invested as she was to get us to her, just like Joey had been.

  The men called to us, motioning for us to run to them. I could run faster, but Halle’s legs were going as fast as they could, and I wouldn’t leave her behind.

  Halle began to cry, the sound carrying every bit of her fear and relief, knowing that we were at the end of our journey either way.

  A shot popped, echoing across the waving wheat. After a few seconds, I heard it again. It was Mom. She was shooting the infected in the field. The popping came steadily, each time cracking through the air, rumbling like thunder.

  The first of the infected emerged from the wheat. I stopped and leaned back so hard that I fell, taking Halle with me.

  The gunshots continued while I scrambled backward. A wall of tattered, rotting bodies formed between the men trying to save us and Halle and me. There were so many. It was as if the entire town of Shallot had followed us just to stop us right before we got to Mom.

  The men and a woman began yelling to get the attention of the huge group of infected, but they kept coming at us. I could hear the wheat swishing behind us, and I knew we would be surrounded at any moment. I grabbed Ha
lle and held her close.

  “Mommy!” A shrill scream I barely recognized as my own emerged from my throat. “Mommy!”

  A pop went off, and the closest infected fell, his brain matter spreading out and mixing with the red dirt. Another infected fell, and I knew Mom was taking out anything getting too close.

  A man appeared from the field on the other side of the road and grabbed my arm. Halle and I screamed, but then the man pulled us up and pushed us behind him. Mom picked off another infected with her rifle, but there were more behind it. The man shoved one away from us, and it stumbled back, falling to the ground. Then another shot went off, this one much closer.

  Our neighbor was standing at the end of the gun that had gone off.

  “Go, Nathan!” our neighbor said to the man holding my arm.

  Nathan looked down at us. “We’re going into the other field and around, okay? Follow me. Stay close!”

  We ran into the tall stalks, hunkered down like before. Nathan stopped for a moment and listened, and then he pulled me as I dragged Halle along.

  “Just a little bit farther,” Nathan said, guiding us through the wheat.

  We stepped out of the field and onto red dirt again. This time, we were right in front of the driveway. We crossed the road and went through the yard toward the porch. A woman with long blonde hair opened her arms wide and guided us into the house.

  Halle reached behind her. “Mommy?”

  The woman’s eyes were wide and worried, but she offered a comforting smile. “She’s just going to help the others. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

  Two other girls were inside, warily watching us. One was my age, and the other was closer to Halle’s age.

  More shots rang out over and over. Halle covered her ears, and I pulled her into me.

  She shook her head, sobbing. “Where’s Mommy?”

  “She’s right outside. She’ll be here soon. Do you remember me, Halle? I’m Ashley, the doctor’s daughter. We’ve met before.”

  Halle nodded, and buried her face into my neck. Now that we were here, the wait was agonizing.

  After a few minutes, the crack of gunshots slowed down, and then they stopped altogether, both from the roof and the road.

  “I think it’s over,” Ashley said. Then, her shoulders shot up to her ears when two more pops sounded.