“Okay!” I hissed.
A moan followed.
I could hear the others moving, but I didn’t look their way. I was too busy searching the darkness for the zombie. The garage wasn’t big, but it still took a moment to locate him. Only the top of his head was visible because he seemed to be on the ground on the other side of the car, close to the front bumper. I couldn’t see what he was doing from here, but whatever it was, he seemed to be stuck.
“There,” I said, pointing.
Devon had just rounded the back of the car, and he nodded as he headed that way, Buck right behind him and both their guns up. Lisa rushed to their side so she could give extra light, and more of the zombie came into view. Still, I couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t moving, because he was clearly trying to.
The men got closer, and I tensed. Part of me expected the thing to jump up once they were in front of him, like maybe he’d been playing a trick, but that didn’t happen. He thrashed and clawed and tried to stand, but he couldn’t.
When Devon reached the front of the car he paused. “Looks like his legs are tangled in something. Rope, maybe?”
“Seems to be,” Buck said.
Devon snorted out a little laugh then lifted his gun, taking aim. The gunshot followed only a second later, echoing through the small room, and the zombie went still.
Devon turned back to face me, having to shield his eyes when the flashlight nearly blinded him.
“Sorry,” I said, lowering it.
He dropped his hand, smiling up at me. “That was a good plan.”
“I guess I’m good for something,” I said.
His smile stretched wider. “I never said you weren’t. Remember?”
22
We got lucky and discovered that both cars were almost full, meaning we’d have plenty of gas to go around once we drained one of the vehicles. Armed with the gas cans we’d gotten in Vega, Kiaya got to work while Devon and Buck began loading the supplies we’d found. There wasn’t a lot, and unfortunately these had not been gun people, but the little bit of nonperishable food we found and the extra flashlights would help.
Zara watched her sister siphon gas from the car we weren’t taking with a look of awe on her face. “How do you know how to do that?”
“Physics,” Kiaya said, using the same nonchalant tone she had with me a few days ago when she’d tried to explain it.
Zara glanced my way, and I shrugged. “Don’t ask, because it still won’t make sense.”
Once she’d gotten everything she could out of the car, Devon dragged the gas cans outside so he could distribute the fuel between the two other cars. We’d be on our way soon, and I couldn’t wait.
“Stick close to us,” I told Kiaya.
Zara had already climbed into the passenger seat, and Hank was in back. I kind of wished Miller had decided to go with them as well, but he’d stubbornly insisted on sticking with us. Of course.
“I will,” Kiaya assured me.
We stared at each other, not talking, then without warning, she put her arms around me. For a moment, I couldn’t respond to the sudden and unexpected hug, but then I returned it, squeezing her harder than necessary. It wasn’t a goodbye hug. I knew that even before she spoke. It was a thank you hug and a peace offering, a sign that things had shifted between us once again.
“Zara and I are only three years apart,” she said, speaking quietly so no one else could hear, her breath brushing my ear. “I was the oldest, and I was supposed to look out for her. I knew that. I always did. Mom started doing drugs when we were young, and it was all we ever knew. Most nights, she didn’t even come home.
“I was ten when I finally told someone at school about it. I didn’t want to because I was afraid of what would happen, but Zara and I had gone the entire weekend without seeing our mom or eating, and I was watching her waste away right in front of my eyes. I had to do it.
“They came to the house and took us, and she was so scared. So little. I begged for them to keep us together, and I think they tried, but they couldn’t find a home for both of us.”
Her arms tightened around me, and I got the sense she was having trouble going on.
“So, you were ripped apart and Zara blamed you.”
Kiaya nodded.
I squeezed her harder. “It’s not your fault. I’ve seen who you are, Kiaya. You are a good person. You did what you had to, and if Zara doesn’t realize that yet, she will soon. I promise.”
She swallowed. “Thank you for believing in me, Rowan.”
“Thank you for trusting me.”
Footsteps scraped against the ground, and we pulled apart. Devon stood in the doorway, watching us curiously, but he didn’t ask.
“Ready?” he said as he moved toward us.
“Ready,” we said at the same time.
I gave Kiaya’s hand one last squeeze before she headed off, and once she was behind the wheel, Devon and I moved to the garage door.
“What was that about?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Nothing.”
He only lifted his eyebrows, letting me know he didn’t believe me, before bending down and grabbing the bottom of the garage door. Since he’d already pulled the cord to detach it from the motor, all he had to do was lift the thing. It rolled up, and light flooded into the dark garage, reminding me of sunshine after the storm.
I was literally on the edge of my seat when Devon pulled into my neighborhood. Like everything else we’d passed since arriving in Troy, it was so familiar and yet so different at the same time. There were no children playing in yards the way they usually would have been on a day like this, no people vacuuming out cars or mowing lawns, and no one walking dogs. The usual bustle had disappeared with the rest of society, and all that was left was a sad remnant of the neighborhood I’d grown up in.
“Turn left at the stop sign,” I said, telling him where to go without even having to think about it.
We were two streets in when I saw the first zombie. There were dozens of houses and hundreds of people, so the odds that it was someone I had once known were small, and yet it seemed it didn’t matter.
I covered my mouth, trying to hold in my sob, but it broke out of me anyway.
Devon glanced toward me. “You know her.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. I had to swallow before I could say, “Mrs. Carver.”
It was all I could say, but I couldn’t stop staring at her as she lumbered down the street—right in the middle of the road—and a whirlwind of memories came rushing back.
Mrs. Carver had lived at the end of my street for as long as I could remember. I’d sold her Girl Scout cookies when I was younger, had been one of the kids who’d taken turns shoveling her driveway during the winter after her husband died ten years ago, and she’d even come to my high school graduation party. I still remembered the little note she’d written on the twenty-five dollar check she’d given me.
You will do big things!!!
The three exclamation points had made me laugh, but the gift had touched me because she was on a fixed income.
“She was such a sweet lady,” I whispered, blinking back my tears.
Devon put his hand on my knee, and the warmth sank into me, giving me strength I’d need. I wasn’t sure if it would be enough, but at least I knew I wasn’t alone.
He kept it there as I gave him directions, telling him when to turn and doing my best to avoid looking directly at any of the other zombies we passed. I wasn’t always successful, though. Sometimes, movement would catch my eye, and I’d turn my head before I could talk myself out of it, but thankfully, none of the others looked familiar. I was sure I’d eventually see other people I knew, but at the moment I was grateful they were all strangers because I couldn’t stomach it right now. Not when I needed all my strength for what I was about to face.
We turned onto my road, and my house came into view. It sat at the end of the street in the cul-de-sac, directly ahead of us. I pointed a shaky fin
ger at it, and Devon gave my knee a squeeze to let me know he understood. He slowed but didn’t pull into the driveway, instead parking the car on the street in front of the house. I knew why. It would be an easier and faster getaway than if we had to back out. I just prayed it wouldn’t be necessary.
He shut the car off but didn’t move right away. “What do you want to do?”
“You mean do I want to go inside?”
He frowned. “Yeah.”
“I think,” I said, having to force the words out, “we should do the same thing we did with Kiaya.”
“Me too,” he said, his gaze moving to the house.
The day was cooler than it had appeared when we climbed out, or maybe I had just gotten used to the heat of Texas. Whatever the reason, I shivered and hugged myself when a cool breeze blew. The others had climbed out of their cars as well and were waiting. Their expressions were somber, and I understood. The world was too silent to miss the roar of a car engine, but no one had come to the door. I wasn’t stupid, and I knew what that most likely meant, but I couldn’t let go of my hope just yet. Zara hadn’t come to the door either, yet she was okay. Mom could still be alive.
“Buck,” Devon said when we reached the rest of our group, “why don’t you come in with me? Everyone else can stay here and keep an eye out.” His gaze darted around. “We’ve seen a lot of zombies walking around, and chances are good that they’re going to follow the sound of our cars. Stay alert.”
“Will do,” Lisa said, answering for the rest of us.
Devon nodded once, his focus on me. “We’ll check it out and let you know what we find.”
“Okay,” I mumbled.
“No matter what,” he said, “you’re going to be okay.”
I exhaled. “I know.”
There was no confidence in the words.
Devon and Buck headed for the house, and I followed but stopped before stepping onto the front porch. Now that I was closer, I noticed something I hadn’t before, and it made everything in me clench. The door was open. Not a lot, only a crack, but enough to tell me no one was inside. It told me something else, too, but it was something I didn’t want to acknowledge just yet, so I pushed the thought down.
Devon looked back at me, frowning, before pushing the door open the rest of the way. It swung in, and I caught a glimpse of the all too familiar entryway. It was as dark and empty as the rest of the world. Not that I’d expected anything different.
Buck led the way, with Devon only a step behind him, and in seconds they’d disappeared from sight.
Kiaya stopped next to me. “You okay?”
I turned to look at her, and in her eyes I could see the same truth I was trying to deny.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly.
“Devon was right,” she replied. “It will be okay even if it hurts.”
I could only nod.
We stood side by side in silence, waiting for them to return. A dog barked somewhere in the distance and the wind blew, rustling tree branches and making the neighbor’s flag flap, but otherwise the world was silent. So quiet that when the scraping of feet against the pavement broke through, it seemed loud even though it wasn’t.
I turned, knowing what I’d see but still totally unprepared for the sight.
I’d pictured her in her bathrobe, it flapping behind her like a cape as she stumbled toward me, but that wasn’t what I found. She was dressed in jeans and wearing Dad’s Harvard Medical School sweatshirt. It was huge on her, even bigger than it used to be because she was wasting away. Still, I knew it was her the second I laid eyes on her. It didn’t matter that all the life and color had drained from her face or that her hair was a knotted mess, or even that her blue irises weren’t visible through the milky haze covering her eyes. I would have recognized my mother anywhere.
“No!” I wailed, my cry echoing through the air and bouncing off the walls. “No!”
I took one step before collapsing, dropping to my knees on the sidewalk, my body shaking as misery ripped its way out of me. It felt like someone had reached into my chest and grabbed my heart. They had it in a punishing grip, making it difficult for me to catch my breath. I gasped and shook, I clawed at the ground as panic and pain settled over me, weighing my body down.
Around me, people were talking, but I couldn’t hear their words. Kiaya was at my side, that much I knew, and she was tugging on my arm, trying to get me to stand. I couldn’t make myself, and not just because my legs were too wobbly. It felt like a bomb had dropped on me, and moving was now impossible. My mom was still a good distance away, but she wasn’t alone. Devon had been right. The dead must have followed the sound of our cars, because there were dozens of them now, with more coming from between houses. They were all heading our way, and my brain told me to move, to listen to Kiaya and get to my feet, but I couldn’t. Even if I did, I wasn’t sure it mattered. I felt broken and half-dead.
Devon and Kiaya had been wrong. It wouldn’t be okay after all.
“Inside!” I heard someone—Buck, I thought—yell.
A rumble I didn’t recognize cut through the moans that had filled the silence, and I registered that the garage door was now open. Kiaya and Lisa were still with me, trying to get me to stand, but Devon was behind the wheel of my car, pulling into the garage. The SUV followed, parking beside him, and I registered Miller behind the wheel when he passed. A second later, a door slammed, and Devon was rushing toward me, alarm etched in every line of his face.
“Go,” he said when he reached us, talking to Kiaya and Lisa. “Get the doors barricaded.”
They were gone in an instant, and then it was just Devon and me. He scooped me into his arms, lifting me like I was a small child, and I clung to him as he ran toward the house. The garage door was still open, but Miller and Buck were waiting. Devon rushed inside, and the same rumble I’d heard before followed as the two men worked together to get the heavy door shut. It went down easier than it had gone up, slamming into the ground with a thud that seemed to vibrate through the garage.
Devon was still moving, and the next thing I knew, we were in my living room. He set me on the couch, his expression twisted in concern, but he didn’t stay at my side. A whirlwind of activity surrounded me, but I was too shell-shocked to really focus on it. Numbly, I registered the presence of Lexi and Mike on the loveseat, and Randall standing not too far away, wringing his hands as the others rushed through the house. Everyone else was running around, and the house was filled with noises I couldn’t place. Scraping sounds, things crashing down, even the shattering of glass. It seemed to take forever to settle, and even once it had, I felt like I couldn’t focus. Voices surrounded me as I curled up on the couch, closing my eyes. I wanted to wipe the image of my zombified mother from my brain, but it was impossible. Her face danced across my vision even with my eyes shut, taunting me.
Mom was gone. Dad was gone. I was an orphan.
Maybe life wasn’t worth fighting for after all.
Slowly, I emerged from a restless sleep, opening my eyes to darkness. There was something familiar and even slightly comforting about my surroundings, but it took a moment to register what it was. I inhaled, and the familiar scent of home filled my nostrils. My room. That was where I was. I was in my bed, in my room, back home in Troy, Ohio.
No comfort accompanied the realization because everything that had happened came rushing back. Immediately, I wished I could return to the comfort of unconsciousness. This world, this new reality, was just too painful.
Something shifted in the darkness, and I tensed but relaxed a second later when a dim light flicked on and Devon came into view.
“You’re awake,” he said.
I nodded, shifting so I could sit up, and he moved to the side of the bed. He lowered himself beside me, setting a small flashlight on my nightstand before taking my hand. For a moment, he said nothing. He just sat there holding my hand and staring at me.
“It will be okay,” he finally said.
“Wi
ll it?” I managed to get out.
“It will. I know it doesn’t feel that way right now, trust me, but I’ve been there, and I promise it will. I’m not the only one either. Keep that in mind. Lexi and Mike have lost their mom, and they’re just kids. Hank, too. They need you to be strong, Rowan. We all do.”
I thought about the things he’d told me, about losing his parents at such a young age and then his grandma right after high school. Then I thought about the kids and Randall and how alone they must feel, and Kiaya and Zara. They’d never even had parents, not really. At least I had twenty happy years to cling to.
“It just hurts so bad,” I said
“That’s normal, and it’s okay. You’re going to hurt, but it isn’t something you can’t get through. You’re strong, and you can do this.”
“How are you so sure? I’m not.”
“Because I’ve seen you rush down the stairs to save a little kid you don’t even know. Because I’ve seen you fight off zombies even though you have no training. Because I’ve sat next to you this entire trip and seen how resilient you’ve proven yourself to be at every turn. You can do this, Rowan.”
I sucked in a deep breath, wincing at the pain in my chest, then blew it out.
I can do this.
Three times I repeated it, and with each exhale, I felt myself get a little stronger. Devon was right. This was horrible, painful and gutting, but I was stronger than this. I wouldn’t let it get the better of me.
After a few minutes, I let out one final breath and said, “What now?”
“We figure out a way to survive in this world,” Devon said. “It’s all we can do.”
I nodded, trying to embrace his words and the strength he’d brought out in me over the last few days. I was home, and I was glad, but we were far from safe, and Devon was right. We needed to find a way to survive. And we would. Together.
Far Series (Book 1): Far From Home Page 30
