Among Monsters Read online

  The tornado sirens filled the air, an eerie rise and fall, echoing from each corner of town.

  "Run," Tavia whispered.

  I knew she was speaking to the people in the armory.

  "Kids are in there, Dad. Little kids."

  "Shh," he said.

  "Kids Halle's age. Babies," I pleaded.

  "We can't help them," he said.

  Tavia picked up her son. "We should go. Before..." Her voice trailed off.

  I was glad she hadn't said the words in front of Halle.

  One of the police officers fired off a warning shot, but the river washed over him, his cries muffled, and then they moved on to the others.

  "Go!" Dad took one stride and then stopped, yanking me back by the shirt. "Wait! Let's go around." He made a half circle in the air, pointing toward the east.

  Tavia shook her head. "Let's just get there!"

  Dad pulled on my shirt again, and I, in turn, pulled on Halle.

  "Look," he said, gesturing to the road.

  A few people from the yard had escaped despite the shooting, and they were running south down Sixth Street. It was just a handful at first, and then more appeared.

  "C'mon, Tavia," I hissed as the screaming in the armory began.

  "What's happening?" Halle cried.

  I held my hand over her mouth as we walked quickly across the other street and down a small road with small houses. A dog began barking and rushed toward Dad, stopping only when its chain held him back. After a momentary pause, Dad encouraged us to continue.

  We walked two blocks east and then turned south. The police were still shooting, but the shouting and screams had quieted down. Halle was whimpering but kept quiet. Tobin looked around with wide eyes and a finger in his mouth, but he hadn't made a peep.

  Once we got to Dad's street, Dad held up his hand, and we froze. A man was bent over an animal that was collared and still attached to a chain. His head was bobbing up and down and then jerking from one side to the other as he yanked away the animal's flesh from the bone.

  Dad held up his finger to his mouth, and he took a step back. I did the same, but Halle was behind me, and when she didn't move, I nearly tripped over her.

  "Jenna!" she barked.

  The man's head snapped up, and he crawled a couple of feet before fumbling himself up to his feet.

  Dad swallowed. "Run," he said, his voice surprisingly even.

  Tavia held on tight to Tobin as she turned on her heels and ran back the way we'd come. Dad brought up the rear, but Tavia began to fall behind. Dad ran back and took Tobin from her arms, and they ran together, puffing.

  A light blinked once, catching our attention. Dad stopped and then pulled us across the street, up a few steps onto a porch, and straight through an open door.

  In the dark living room stood an old man holding a small flashlight, sixtyish, with a short white beard and slits for eyes. Next to him was a much younger woman, maybe his daughter. She was plump and covered in freckles, her reddish-brown hair shaped like a Christmas tree.

  "Thanks, Jerry," Dad said, trying to catch his breath. He handed Tobin to Tavia. "Sorry to hear about Marva."

  I scanned the dusty frames on the walls. The same three people stood posed in all the photos. The only person in the pictures and not in the room with us was a woman with wavy silver hair, cut short and feathered back--Jerry's wife. I couldn't tell how long it had been since their last family photo. The redhead had the same hairstyle in every picture since she was around my age, and only Jerry's hair color had changed since then.

  Halle crumpled against my side, trembling from the cold. I wrapped her in one of the blankets we carried from the armory and then my arms.

  "Have you met the girls? That's Jenna"--Dad pointed to me--"and little Halle over there," he finished, lowering his finger toward Halle.

  "I've seen 'em around town once in a while," Jerry said.

  Dad looked at us and gestured to his friend. "Jerry is retired from the Navy. He's also a retired Anderson firefighter."

  "Way before your time, Andy," Jerry said. "I'm an old fart. Never been gladder though. Heard they called all of you to the armory?"

  Dad looked down. "We barely made it out."

  "Who's Marva?" I asked.

  Dad shifted, offering a quick apologetic smile to Jerry. "Marva is his wife."

  "Was my wife," Jerry said. "We lost her to cancer last year. We sure miss her."

  The house looked like it missed Marva, too. The living room had two worn couches and a dark green recliner, their backs turned to the kitchen. A counter covered in peeling Formica that looked older than Dad separated the two rooms.

  Jerry continued, "This is my daughter, Cathy Lynn."

  She gave a nod, smiling just enough not to seem rude. She had dark circles under her eyes. She didn't seem to like that we were there. She tugged on her Winnie the Pooh T-shirt. I thought her choice to wear a cartoon character was odd because she looked older than Dad.

  Jerry gestured to his daughter. "I called her over when the news said the virus had hit Atlanta. I knew once it was on our soil, it would spread fast. She lives just down the road there. People just don't use common sense. Speaking of, what the hell were you doing out there, Andy?" Jerry asked, frowning. "Don't you know they're patrolling the streets? They're shooting people!"

  "What?" Tavia asked.

  Cathy Lynn pointed, her hands trembling. "On the corner. Greg Jarvis refused to go with them, and they shot him dead right in his front yard. Didn't you see him?"

  Dad shook his head. "We were...preoccupied. The infection is in Anderson. We saw a man. He was...eating a dog, I think."

  Jerry spit into the Styrofoam cup he was holding and nodded. "That was probably Greg. He's been walking around since about a minute after they put a bullet in his chest and drove away. Idiots. You gotta shoot 'em in the head, or they just get back up."

  Dad and Tavia traded glances.

  "One of the last reports on the news said that it spreads like rabies," Jerry said. "They bite ya, and if it don't kill you right away, you get sick enough to die. When you get up, you ain't you." He shook his head. "Just like in the movies. They were spot-on, goddamn it."

  "Did they say anything else?" Tavia asked.

  Jerry frowned. "Oh, they did mention the flu shots."

  "What about them?" Dad asked, frowning.

  "Did you get yours this year?"

  Dad dipped his head once, the skin around his eyes tight. "Is that what's infecting people?"

  "No," Jerry said. "Just the bite. But that blonde on channel nine said they heard several reports of people turning faster, once they're bit, if they had the flu shot. They don't know why. I've never liked her much--that reporter. She's probably safe. I hear zombies eat brains."

  I chuckled, and Dad shot me a look.

  "Did she say any more about the flu shot?" Tavia asked. "Did they ever say how much faster? Right after they've been bitten?" Tavia asked, turning her body to put a few inches more between her son and Dad.

  "They didn't say," Jerry said.

  Tavia's face switched from surprise to anger. "The government should have warned us. They should have told us the truth, so we could have been prepared."

  Cathy Lynn raised an eyebrow. "Would you have believed them?"

  Tavia patted and rubbed Tobin's back. He was already asleep, but she continued to gently bob and sway. "I knew when they started reporting on Germany this morning. If they had admitted it was the dead coming back to life, I damn well would have believed them, and I would have had more time to get supplies and protect my family."

  Dad shook his head. "I wouldn't have. There's just no way. That's like admitting that vampires are real."

  More gunshots popped, and they didn't sound far away.

  "Kill that flashlight, Cathy!" Jerry hissed.

  Cathy Lynn pressed the button. It was even darker than before, and Halle held on to me even tighter.

  The moon poured in through the windows
, highlighting just one side of Dad's face. He was looking around the room, his eyes dancing from the couch to the floor and past Jerry to the back of the house.

  "Jerry, can we stay here until morning? I'm not sure it's safe to walk around at night. There are a lot more of those things. They're pouring in from the interstate. A hundred at least. Probably more."

  "Sure, sure. Cathy will get you some blankets and pillows, won't you, Cathy?"

  Cathy Lynn complied, turning toward wherever he kept his linens. She froze mid-step when another cluster of bullets cracked, even closer this time. "Dad, the closer the shooting gets, the closer those things get. We should board up the windows like the news lady said."

  "I told you, we're not staying here. We're going to Bobby's farm at first light."

  Cathy Lynn sighed. "But what about tonight?"

  "She has a point," Tavia said.

  I was scared before, but my panic was beginning to push the bile higher in my throat. The infection was no longer over there. It was right outside. It was waiting for us in the dark. I opened my mouth to tell Dad I was afraid, but then I looked down at Halle. She wasn't trembling from the cold. She was terrified. I'd barely noticed that she wasn't really talking. Usually, I couldn't get her to shut up. If I admitted to being afraid, she would lose it.

  "We need to find Mom," I said.

  "We will." Dad dipped his head once. Then, he turned to Jerry and Cathy Lynn to discuss fortifying the house for the night.

  He wasn't thinking about how important it was to get to Mom, and it was making me beyond mad. She should be here by now.

  What if she was one of the people on the interstate, trying to get on to the Anderson exit, when those idiots opened fire? What if she's hurt? What if she made it into town another way? She would look for us at Dad's house.

  I pulled out my phone--no service. The battery was only at nineteen percent, and I didn't have my charger. I thought about how stupid it had been to check Facebook, Snapchat, and the news instead of charging my phone. The only thing that mattered was talking to Mom, and when I got service back, I wouldn't be able to call her.

  "Do you have a charger for this?" I asked Jerry, holding up my smartphone.

  He shook his head.

  Cathy Lynn held out her hand. "I do."

  I handed her my phone, and she took it.

  "Dad," I said.

  He half-turned before waving me away, and then he resumed his conversation.

  "We can't stay here. We have to go to your house. Mom will look for us there."

  "I want Mom!" Halle burst into tears.

  "Jenna, for God's sake!" Dad knelt next to his youngest. "Halle, honey, you have to be quiet," he said, shushing her.

  With her free arm, Tavia hugged me to her side. "I know you're anxious, baby girl. Don't you worry. We're going to find her."

  I pointed to the door. "The house is a block and a half away!"

  Dad grit his teeth. "Jenna--"

  "She's there. I know it. She's a block or so away, and we're sitting here. If we don't get to your house, we'll miss her!"

  "Jenna, quiet!" Dad growled.

  My eyes filled with tears. "I'm going."

  "Jenna!" Halle sobbed.

  Dad grabbed me with one arm and Halle with the other, and he held us together in a tight hug. "Girls," he said, keeping his voice low and calm.

  That surprised me. Usually, he made a bad situation worse.

  "I know you're scared. I know you miss your mom. I know you want to be with her, and I will make sure that happens. But you've got to trust me. Can you do that? Please?"

  I pressed my lips together, my bottom lip pulling up. Halle's sobs softened to snivels, and I resorted to crying frustrated but quiet tears into Dad's shoulder. Something deep inside told me that my mom was close and that she was feeling scared and desperate like I was. The urge to get to her was too strong to ignore, but I couldn't leave Halle, and she wouldn't leave without Dad.

  "Okay?" Dad said. "First light."

  I wiped my eyes and turned away from him. "Whatever."

  THE EARLY MORNING SUN peeked through the plastic blinds hanging on the windows, highlighting the thousands of dust motes floating in the air.

  Halle was curled up next to me, all but a tangled mess of blonde hair, covered in a thick woolen blanket. As the night had turned colder and the gunshots had fired closer, we'd held on to each other, and somewhere between the chill inside and the fear of what was outside, we'd fallen asleep.

  I picked up my things and quickly stuffed them into Halle's backpack. Then, I nudged Tavia. Tobin had been fussy on and off all night. Tavia had said it was because he was in a new place and off his routine.

  "Hey," Tavia said with a sleepy smile, propping her head with her arm. "We made it through the night."

  Dad was already awake, standing by the door. "I haven't heard close shots since sunrise. Let's get moving."

  He turned to see Jerry shuffling from his bedroom. The old man held out his hand, and Dad took it firmly.

  "I can't thank you enough, Jerry."

  "You sure you won't come with us? I've just got that Lincoln Town Car in the driveway, but we can make it work."

  Dad shook his head. "My Tahoe is parked near the armory. Once we get our things, we'll head that way."

  Jerry glanced at Tavia and a still-sleeping Tobin. "I hope it has three rows."

  "It does," Dad said, smiling. He bent down next to Halle and gently prodded her awake.

  She sat up, and Dad handed over her glasses. Looking around, she was confused at first, but then recognition lit her eyes, and they glossed over.

  "Halle, we're okay," Dad said. "We're going home."

  "Is Mom there?" she asked.

  "We'll soon see," Tavia said with a wink.

  Halle scrambled to her feet and joined me at the door. She lifted her glasses to wipe each of her eyes with the back of her hand.

  I focused on the road to the east. It was hard to see against the bright sun, but I could tell the road was peppered with just four or five ambling people.

  "Dad," I said.

  He leaned toward the screen door.

  Tavia lifted her son off the floor and into her arms before joining us at the door. "Seems like they move pretty slow. That guy from last night didn't catch up to us, even when he was chasin'."

  Dad pressed on the metal lever before opening the door. "Give me Tobin. My house isn't quite two blocks away, and I don't see anything between here and there. Even if those things notice us, we can make it."

  "We don't want them to notice us. Then, they'll follow us to the house," I said.

  "True," Dad said, pausing to think. He looked to Halle. "No matter what, you can't scream. You can't make noise. We don't want to draw their attention. Do you understand?"

  "I'll try," Halle said.

  "Good girl." Dad kissed her forehead.

  "Wait," I said before he walked out onto the porch. "What if something happens? What if we get separated?"

  "We won't," he said.

  "But what if we do?"

  "Try to go the long way around. Try to keep anything from following you, but go to the house."

  "Which one is yours?" Tavia asked.

  "On the southwest corner of Fifth and McKinley. White house with a red porch. There's a detached garage in the back."

  Tavia kissed her fingers and then touched Tobin's hand.

  "Let's get moving," Dad said. "Jerry?" he called back. "Good luck."

  Jerry and Cathy Lynn waved to us, and then we walked in a tight group down the sidewalk, heading west.

  "Keep your eyes open for someone walking between these houses," Dad said.

  Tobin was looking around. It was more because he was wondering what we were doing than trying to help. One of his fat hands had a fistful of Dad's shirt, and the other was in his mouth. "Mama," he said around his fingers.

  "Hi, baby," Tavia whispered. "Be real quiet until we get there. Good boy."

  The whole to
wn was quiet, too quiet. No vehicles were driving down the street. No dogs were barking. No planes were overhead. The only sounds were the soles of our shoes padding along the sidewalk. It was very unsettling.

  We crossed the intersection and then walked around to the back gate. It was open, and immediately, my heart began to pound against my rib cage.

  "She's here!" I said before covering my mouth too late.

  Dad handed Tobin off to his mother, and then grabbed my sweatshirt. "Hold your horses." After pulling his keys from his pocket, he looked inside the large Plexiglas window that made up the top half of his back door. He sighed. "Someone broke the window."

  "It was Mom!" I whispered, excited.

  He turned around, his face pale. "Jenna, I know you're eager to see your Mom, but I'm going to look first. What if she's..." He trailed off, looking to Halle. "Just wait here until I get back."

  Even though he hadn't finished, just him insinuating that Mom could have been bitten, turning into one of those things, made me feel sick to my stomach.

  Dad turned the key and then the knob before pushing the door. It resisted, sticking like it always did, and then creaked as it opened. Any other time, that noise would barely register, but when the world was so quiet, any sound we made might as well be a dinner bell.

  Dad walked onto the yellow-and-green linoleum kitchen floor. "Scarlet?" he called just barely loud enough for anyone to hear.

  "Get ready to leave," Tavia said, glancing over her shoulder. "Just in case."

  "I'm not leaving without my mom," I said.

  "I have to potty," Halle said.

  "Pee-pee," Tobin said.

  Tavia patted his back. "Me, too."

  Dad reappeared, all color gone from his face.

  "Oh Lord Jesus," Tavia said. "She's not--"

  "No," Dad said, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and index finger. "She's not here."

  "What?" I shouldered past him. "Mom?" I called. "Mom!"

  I searched each room in a panic. When I returned to the living room, Dad, Halle, Tobin and Tavia were all staring at the wall.

  The drips of black spray paint had dried a few inches below the words that Mom had hastily written on the wall.

  "No!" I said, staring at the wall. "I told you! I told you she'd come here!"

  Dad reached for me. I pushed him away, my shoes crunching on the glass piled on the carpet. She'd come here for us. She had just been a little over a block away, and we'd missed her.

  Tavia put Tobin on the floor, but he was clinging to her leg, only one train in his hand.