by Megan Berry
“No.” Ryan turns around in confusion.
“What are you talking about Jane? Your Dad is going to be so relieved to see you.” He stops and looks down at the ground before adding. “I was.”
“Ryan. I can’t go back there yet. Those people in that town took Silas, and you know my Dad.” I plead with him, “If I go back now, Dad will never let me out of his sight again. Silas will be screwed.” Ryan looks like he wants to argue with me, but then he closes his mouth and takes a deep breath, and I know, typical Ryan, he’s going to try and be diplomatic.
“We can come back for him-” He starts to say, but I shake my head.
“You just told me my Dad has a broken leg and Jack is messed up.” I tell him bluntly. “It could be weeks before that happens. Not a chance.”
“Then I’ll come back for him.” Ryan says, frustration coating his every word, as he brushes a hand over his hair in frustration. “You don’t know what it was like when you were gone Jane.”
I feel anger bubble up inside me at how purposely dense Ryan is being. Does he think he is the only one that had a bad time after we all got separated? I went to hell and back, and I had to kill someone, again! “You know what.” I tell him in anger. “I’ll just do it myself.”
I spin and start to walk away, but Ryan reaches out and grabs me by my arm and spins me back around. Mike lets out a low growl of warning and I immediately think zombie, but when I look at the dog, hes looking right at Ryan. The growl was a warning not to touch me.
Ryan lets go of me as if my skin is on fire, but he doesn’t get out of my way. “Don’t be so pig-headed Jane. You could get killed, do you really think that is what Silas would want?” His words hit home a little closely because they are exactly what Silas himself said to me, but I stubbornly shake my head.
“Do you really think Silas would leave any one of us in there and just go on with his life?” I fire back, and I can tell from his face that I have him there. “Silas turned himself over to these people to save me.” I tell Ryan, and I know I just sealed the deal with that little piece of information.
“You were together after the river?” Ryan asks and I nod.
“Yeah, but we don’t have time right now. We have to find somewhere else to be.” I plead with him, and he nods, and I know I’ve won. “Have you scouted any houses?” I ask him, and he nods again and motions for me to follow him, and this time I do.
He could be leading me back to Dad and Jack against my wishes, but I’m choosing to believe that he heard what I said to him, and if he does anything else, I’ll let Mike eat him.
Ryan leads me back down the river bank, basically retracing my steps back the way I just came, and I have to resist the urge to ask him, are we there yet, like an impatient toddler. He comes to a stop abruptly and I’m confused. There is absolutely nothing around. Ryan motions towards a bunch of bushes and I follow him with curiosity as he starts tugging out a small row boat, and a set of oars.
My stomach drops at the idea of going back into the river, but I can’t complain, not after my speech about saving Silas. Ryan pushes the boat to the waters edge, just so it starts to float and then he hops in and motions for me to join him. I hesitate for a minute, but then do it, whistling quietly for the dog.
The dog seems just as dubious as me about the boat, but after a couple tugs of his collar, he jumps in and sits awkwardly on the bottom of the boat. Ryan pushes us off with the oar and then we are at the mercy of the current. “You don’t go straight across, but the current isn’t too bad.” He tells me, handing me one of the oars and showing me how to dip the paddle. I row in terrified silence and after a few minutes Ryan and I get synchronized and the boat straightens out. “Don’t look so scared, this is probably one of the safest places you could be right now.” He tells me with a small chuckle, and I force a smile. He isn’t wrong, zombies don’t swim.
“Is my Dad on the other side of the river too?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me and Ryan nods.
“Yeah, the patrols were too thick on the Louisville side.” He tells me and I nod, don’t I know it.
“Are you taking me back to them?” I blurt out, even though I had decided to trust him.
Ryan shakes his head. “I wish you would let me, but I won’t for now, but you do know your Dad is suffering right now. He doesn’t know if you’re alive or dead. It’s been killing him.”
His words prick at my conscience, but I know I can’t let them sway me. My gut feeling is telling me that this is the right thing to do. My Dad would never accept letting me go off and rescue Silas, so it’s better if he doesn’t know. “I know.” I murmur and Ryan studies my face before nodding and looking away.
“Okay then, I won’t mention it again.” He surprises me by saying and I glance up at him sharply.
“I trust you Jane.” He tells me, winning me over. He’s been kind of a pain lately, ever since things shifted between him and I, and I started up with Silas, but right now he is reminding me of why I liked him so much in the first place. He is a good person, I think I had forgot that in an effort to not feel so guilty for what I did ditching him after everything we went through.
I pull my head out of the memories and murmur a “thank you.”
“The other side of the river is better. They don’t patrol this side and the houses haven’t all been emptied out.” He tells me and I smile, he really meant it, and he’s changing the subject.
“I wish we had thought to switch sides.” I tell him before I realize I even said it out loud. “We basically starved because we couldn’t find anything to eat, and I refused to leave the river.” I admit. Tears sting my eyes. It’s my fault Silas got taken.
“It isn’t your fault Jane.” Ryan says, and for a minute I’m creeped out, it’s like he read my thoughts. “You know how Silas is, if he didn’t want to do something, you wouldn’t have made him.” He reminds me and it does touch on being the truth, but I can’t overcome my guilt.
We approach the riverbank and my heart starts beating more quickly when I spot two zombies standing on the shore waiting for us. Mike lets out a growl. “Damn it.” I can’t help cursing our luck and Ryan nods.
“Yeah, it’s the trade off to the no patrols and food.” He shrugs like its not big deal. “There’s more zombies.” The boat glides into the river bank and the bottom scrapes against the gravel, reminding me of nails on a chalkboard, and Ryan is already on his feet, jumping out of the boat he swings the heavy wooden oar and cracks the first zombie in the head.
It staggers back, but doesn’t fall, and Ryan uses the oar to smack the other zombie in the temple, hard enough I can hear its vertebrae popping from here. I wince, and struggle out of the boat with my axe, as Ryan pokes the first zombie in the chest with the oar knocking it back and then winds up like hes Babe Ruth and lands the crushing blow to the second zombies’ skull.
I head over to the downed zombie that’s still twitching in the wet sand and finish it off while Ryan whacks the remaining zombie two more times before landing the death blow. He’s breathing hard when he walks over to me and motions to the left. “The place I’m talking about is just over there, but first give me a hand hiding the boat in these trees.” He asks and I jog over and help him pull the boat until its hidden.
I’m getting nervous being out in the open like this, especially since there are more zombies on the southern side of the river. Ryan leads the way off the river bank, and we run smack into another zombie. The zombie only gets out a small hiss of excitement before Ryan plants a dagger through its temple.
“We’d better hurry.” He whispers to me as the zombie crumples to the ground and I don’t disagree. Mike stays close and I keep an eye alternately on his reaction to our surroundings and the surroundings themselves. We jog up a short path, through a garden and across an overgrown lawn before Ryan comes to a stop outside the front door of a house and doesn’t even hesitate before throwing the door open and rushing inside. I follow him, hoping that he knows whats on the other side and Mike take
s up the rear.
Ryan walks through the house easily enough in the dark, and I relax slightly, he’s familiar with the layout, so he must have cleared the house at some point. “We can spend the night… day here and make a plan.” He tells me and I nod. My entire body suddenly feels like it’s made out of lead. “Have you eaten?” He asks and I shake my head.
“I’m not hungry, I just need to sleep.” I tell him as I do a terrible job of stifling a yawn. He leads me to a bedroom, and I’m grateful. We have a million things to talk about, but I just don’t have it in me right now. I toss my pack down on the floor and leave everything else on except my boots. My feet are a little damp from around the rivers edge and I’d like to avoid foot fungus if its at all possible. I poke around in the dresser drawers and come up with a thick pair of wool socks and then sit down on the bed and pull mine off and switch them out, then I crawl underneath the blankets and Mike jumps up on the bed with me and settles his enormous girth practically on top of me.
He is not a small dog by any means, but he makes me feel safe. Ryan turns around to leave and I don’t really like the idea of him going far. “You don’t have to go.” I tell him and he sends me a small smile.
“I’ll be back.” He promises. “I’m just going to find something to eat.” He says, and I nod fuzzily, I can barely even form a sentence at this point. My body basically just decided the life-threatening danger was over for now, and it was going to sleep and block out the world. My last conscious thought is to giggle over the snores coming from Mike, the dog fell asleep even faster than I am- we should be in the Guinness Book of World Records, if it still existed.
Chapter Fifteen
A wet nose nudging my hand wakes me up, and I have to blink a few times from the sunlight that’s streaming through the window. It’s sometime late morning or early afternoon, if I had to guess. Mike lets out a low huff and pushes his wet nose against my fingers again and I absent mindedly pet him.
The dog switches tactics and puts my entire hand in his mouth and I sit bolt upright. I don’t think he would hurt me, but he is a flesh-eating dog, and you can never be too careful. I pull my hand out of his mouth carefully and he lets it go, much to my relief.
I glance around the room and am relieved to see Ryan didn’t go far. He’s sprawled out beside me on the bed, and I smile at the wall of pillows that he’s built between us, like a grade-school kid afraid of catching cooties. I highly doubt actually Ryan thinks I’m going to give him cooties, it’s much more likely that he did this for my own modesty, and it was a sweet gesture.
Mike whines again, bringing my attention back to the dog and I frown at him. “Whats the matter?” I ask him as I struggle to swing my feet over the edge of the bed. I’m stiff and sore from the last couple days adventures, but the most likely culprit for this fresh wave of pain is my spill off the bike last night.
I gingerly slip my boots back on and tie them, making sure my gun is still at my hip, I open the door and Mike goes shooting past me. I follow him a lot more carefully, this is an unfamiliar house and even if Ryan did clear it at some point, he didn’t clear it last night. Mike has disappeared, off to inspect the house, and I find the kitchen and start pulling cans out of the cupboard.
I settle on some fruit cocktail, with stale crackers and peanut butter spread on top and even find a can of cat food for Mike- he won’t know the difference.
As if on cue, Mike shows up at the rattle of the can opener and I get his breakfast first, dumping the large can of congealed brown goop into a mixing bowl that I find up in the cupboard. Mike wolfs it down and then stares at me until I give him half of my peanut butter and cracker pile. It’s probably not the best diet for the dog to be eating all this junk, but we’ve got to make do with what we can find.
I finish eating my fruit straight from the can right around the same time Mike starts whining at the patio door. I walk over and stare outside the glass door, glad the private deck can only be reached by a set of steep stairs, or the glass wouldn’t be very useful against pounding zombie fists. Mike whines again and I scan the yard and visible river bank for any sign of zombies. The dog wants outside badly, but I don’t know if I should.
I know the dog can hold his own against a zombie, I’m more worried about attracting the dead to our hide out. Mike lets out an impatient bark and I shush him, even as I slide the patio door open in defeat. He takes off like a shot and I nervously step out onto the deck and take-a-look around. Mike runs down towards the river and starts pacing along the banks.
I’m about to turn and go back into the house when a faint noise is carried to my ear on the breeze. Gun shots. I stand up a little straighter and peer down at Mike, who’s staring across the river at Louisville. I strain my ears to listen and more shots ring out from across the river- and I could almost swear I hear screaming.
I turn to rush back into the house to wake up Ryan and nearly scream myself when I come face to face with him standing in the doorway watching me. “You shouldn’t be outside.” He tells me and I shrug.
“The dog needed out.” I tell him, then motion for him to join me outside. “Do you hear that?” I ask and confusion lights his face.
“What?” He says peeking out to look both ways before joining me at the railing.
“Gun shots.” I tell him and he frowns.
“Yeah.” He finally admits after a few minutes of straining our ears. “Its not that unusual though in this world, someone is probably just shooting zombies.” He says with a shrug. As if to punctuate his words a hoarse cry reaches our ears, though its faint and sounds far away.
Zombies. The reminder recalls the horde I saw on the road last night and my blood runs cold. “We have to go.” I tell Ryan, suddenly starting to panic and he looks confused.
“Don’t you want to wait for tonight?” He asks and I shake my head, even as I rush back into the house and gather up my stuff. Throwing a few things into my backpack, I sling it on my back and stand before Ryan, who’s followed me into the bedroom, but hasn’t made a move to gather up his own stuff.
“We need to hurry!” I practically yell at him, and he begins to look concerned. “Last night, I forgot to tell you, but I was on the main road and had to get off because I came across a huge zombie horde on the interstate.” I rush to get out all in one breath, and Ryan turns pale.
“Jane…” He says and then pauses like he’s searching for the right words “…If Louisville was overrun, it’s too late.” He does look genuinely upset by the fact that Silas might become a zombie snack, but that doesn’t make me feel any better about it.
“Silas is obviously locked up somewhere, and if he can’t get out, then the zombies can’t get in.” I tell him with far more confidence than I feel. “He needs us now more than ever.”
Ryan looks like he’s still on the fence, but I can’t be. I’ve got to save Silas, it was top priority before, but now the hour glass just ran out. “Give me a minute to get ready.” He says finally and I am so relieved. I wasn’t looking forward to executing this rescue mission on my own.
While Ryan is getting ready, or whatever he’s doing in the other room, I dig in my bag and pull out the box of ammo that I found when I also found Mike. I pull a few empty clips out of the bag and start mechanically reloading them up because I’m going to need more ammo.
I probably have about sixty-five rounds all together and I’m not sure what Ryan has, but there’s still at least two hundred zombies that may or may not have broken down the gates to Louisville’s inner sanctuary- I don’t know if it will be enough.
Ryan emerges from the bedroom just as I’m packing my stuff back up and I have to bite back the urge to complain about how long he took, even though he was relatively fast. “Ready?” I ask, and Ryan nods grimly.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He lets me know, and I lead the way back to the patio door, stopping to pick up my axe where I’ve left it leaning against the counter when I was loading the cartridges into my clips.
“
How much ammo do you have?” Ryan asks as he eyes the empty box I left sitting on the counter.
“I found fifty rounds the other day and I have maybe twelve others left.” I admit, then glance over at him. “What about you?”
He shrugs a couple times before clearing his throat and pretending to think about it. “Enough.” He says mysteriously, and I know from dealing with Silas, that it’s man code for, Jane, you have more ammo than me, but I hate to admit it.
“You have a nine-millimeter, don’t you?” I ask, trying to remember what kind of gun he carries, and he nods. “Do you want to take a couple clips?” I offer, already starting to take my backpack off my back, but he shakes his head.
“I should be fine, I’ve actually gotten pretty good with the oar.” He jokes and I flash him a small smile as we make our way down the patio stairs and out onto the deck. If times become desperate, I’ll make him take the damn ammo.
The gunshots from across the river have gotten more rapid and I have to resist the urge to run blindly towards the boat. “Jane.” Ryan warns as we reach the bottom of the stairs, and I hear the moan of a zombie and nod my head, letting Ryan know that I’ve spotted it.
The zombie comes charging out of the trees at us and Ryan winds up with the oar and spins him around, knocking him down to the ground, and I plant my ax viciously into the back of his head for his efforts. I tug the axe out of his skull and wipe it on his shirt. “Damn Jane, we make a pretty good team.” Ryan says with a low whistle and I nod. That was pretty epic, as far as smooth zombie take downs go.
We retrace our steps from the night before and step over the corpse of the zombie we dispatched last night. A rustle in the bush has Ryan and I both spinning towards the sound, ready to take something out, when Mike comes bursting through the trees, nearly giving me a heart attack. I very nearly tried to axe him out of habit. A rustle behind the dog, has us turning back as two zombies, come staggering out of the trees right on his tail.
They’re kids- or they used to be, and I feel horrified even as I raise my axe and crack it down on the skull of the first. Ryan hesitates for a moment, but when the second zombie gets too close to me as I’m tugging my axe out of the juvenile zombie’s head, he steps in and takes it out, beating it down to the ground with the oar, and then cracking its head open with a few precision hits.
