“We’ll do everything we can to protect you,” I say. “Do you believe that?” Her head nods slowly, half scared by my intensity. “Do you know that we love you?” It may have only been a couple of weeks, but we do. She shrugs and looks away.
“We love you.” I turn her chin back gently. “And I’m so happy we found you.”
“That night gave you nightmares,” she argues.
“Honey, this world could give anyone nightmares. I’d have worse nightmares if you were still with them.”
The corners of her mouth turn up, and she puts her small hand in mine. “I want to show you something,” I say. “Have you ever read the Little House books?”
She shakes her head. “I have—I mean, had—them, but I never read them. My mom was going to read them with me.”
I look closely, but her face is eager, not sad. “I still have my set here. Let’s go find them.”
It’s doubtful that talking about something so horrific is going to stop her nightmares, but she already seems a little lighter. So do I.
CHAPTER 87
“We need moving targets,” Ana says.
I glance at where Peter chops wood but feel it’s probably prudent to keep my mouth shut, so I just nod. All the work outdoors has turned her light brown skin the color of cinnamon. She’s covered in a sheen of sweat that makes her glow, unlike the rivers of unsightly sweat my body creates. She’s intent on mastering every weapon there is, and it’s all I can do to keep up.
“No, thank you,” says Penny, who’s taking a break on the grass. She tries hard, but she’s too gentle. Plus, her glasses slip when she gets sweaty. Sweet, quiet Penny is not made for this world, and it scares me.
“At least I can shoot a gun,” she says.
I remember her firing out the back door that night, and my worry lifts a little. I pick up the cleaver again and thrust it forward. My thigh burns from what must be lunge number one hundred today.
“Yeah,” I say to Ana, “let’s not wish too hard for that one. I’m fine practicing on air and wood.”
“You guys know what I mean,” Ana says, like she wasn’t really wishing for it.
“Yeah, we do,” Penny and I say at the same time and then laugh.
Peter walks over. His t-shirt is stuck to him, and even Penny raises her eyebrows at what’s under it and then grins when I roll my eyes.
“Hey,” he says to Ana. “Can I show you something John showed me?”
“Of course,” Ana says.
He stands behind her and places his hands over hers on the shaft. “Like this.” He moves her arms upward. “You’ll probably need to swing up a little to connect with the neck.”
She leans into him, and his arms stay around her a moment longer than necessary. Peter glances at me and pats her on the shoulder as he backs away.
“There you go.” He turns to me. “Do you want me to show you?”
“I have eyes, I saw,” I say. “No thanks.”
Our gazes lock. I keep mine cold and hard until finally he raises his shoulders and walks back to the woodshed.
Ana shakes her head. “Can’t you guys just get along?”
I shrug. “Let’s practice.”
CHAPTER 88
We have a barbecue on the Fourth of July. John says there’ll be hunting in the fall, so we might as well enjoy the last of the steaks. Penny finds some old sparklers in the junk drawer, and Bits races around with them.
“When’s your birthday again, Bits?” John asks, while we sit on the deck and eat.
“November twenty-eighth,” she and Peter say at the same time.
She giggles. I have to admit that Peter’s good with her. The other night she had a nightmare, but by the time I got down the hall he was talking her back to sleep. When I checked later I saw he’d fallen asleep with his head on her bed, her hand still in his.
I felt something soften that night. Until the next day, when he suggested my mother’s marinara sauce needed more basil, in his insufferable way. I handed him the spoon and told him to suit himself. He finished dinner and, of course, everyone said it was great.
“Hey,” Nelly says. “Let’s go to town tomorrow. My leg is healed and I want to run free. Actually, I need more unmentionables.”
“I need to get some stuff too. Feminine hygiene and such.” I wink at Penny, who makes a face telling me to shut up, so I wink again.
“Fine with me,” John says. “Or I can stay here if I’m not needed.”
Ana chews her steak and nods enthusiastically. “I’m going! Maybe we’ll run into a Lexer.”
We all groan, and Nelly gives her a half-smile. “One can only hope.”
“I’d like to go,” Peter says.
I can’t spend all day in the car with him. I change my mind. “I’ll give you a list, Nelly.”
Peter looks my way and his hands tighten on the chair. I wait for him to say something obnoxious, but they release and he lets out a breath. “You know what? I have some stuff to do here. Either James or John can go with you three.”
I smile and get up to make a list.
CHAPTER 89
Town is still eerily quiet. We head to Wal-Mart for the same reason people did before the world ended: it has most everything we need.
It looks the same as it did, although it might smell worse. Nelly and I head to the back to see about ammo, while John and Ana head to the other end. We grab what’s left and snag Bits a backpack for a BOB. The stench in Health and Beauty is unbearable, but this time I’m ready with a perfumed bandana. Nelly gags until he finally takes the other bandana I offer him.
“Just a couple more things,” I say.
I throw some shampoo and soap in Nelly’s bag. We go through it like crazy, even with not showering as much as we used to. I grab every box of condoms I can find. Nelly raises an eyebrow.
“I thought we’d start being friends with benefits,” I say. His bandana puffs out when he laughs. “They’re for Penny, dummy.”
“At least someone’s getting lucky.”
“Seriously.”
Ana looks disappointed when we leave without a single undead altercation. We’re loading the stuff when we hear the drone of a motorcycle coming up fast. John turns the key in the ignition and we ready our weapons. There’s no time to leave.
The motorcycle turns into the lot, followed by an RV. The motorcyclist waves his hand in the air for the RV to stop and pulls up within shouting distance. He’s a big guy in black leather, with long gray hair, but he looks friendly enough.
“Hi there,” he yells. “Name’s Zeke. You mind if I come closer?” He opens his jacket to show us a holster. “I’ve got one weapon holstered. Sorry, I won’t take it off, though.”
John nods his assent and holsters his gun but indicates we should keep ours out. Zeke heaves himself off the bike and lumbers over. Up close he looks to be in his fifties.
“You’re the first live people we’ve seen in days,” he says with a smile. “Mighty glad to see you, too.”
We introduce ourselves. Zeke tells us that he’s come all the way from Kentucky. “We’re headed to Whitefield, New Hampshire. You’ve heard of the Safe Zone there? We figured we’d throw in our lot with them.”
“You’re a long way from Kentucky,” John says.
“Tell me about it. Had to give a wide berth to all the major cities. New Jersey was a complete and total nightmare.”
“So nothing’s really changed,” I say with a grin, before I can stop myself.
Zeke stares at me, and for a moment I’m afraid I’ve insulted him with my joke. But he throws his head back, showing a set of perfect white teeth, and laughs until his cheeks are red and drenched with tears.
“Oh, man, I needed a good laugh,” Zeke says, as he blots his face with a bandana.
John insists Zeke’s companions get out and stretch their legs. At Zeke’s word they spill out of the RV like clowns out of a tiny car. There’s a family with two kids, three sisters, two sets of married couples and assorted
single people. We exchange brief stories.
“We barely made it out,” says the mother of the family. “We almost lost my husband, but Zeke came by and helped us.”
Every story involves Zeke, and I watch him with growing fascination. The man has picked up these assorted people and is leading them to safety. He’s like the anti-Neil. We tell them about Neil and what to expect inside the store but that there’s plenty.
“Thanks. We’ve run up against some murderous folks, too. So, do you have plans to head to a Safe Zone?” Zeke asks.
“We’re pretty well set up here,” John says. “But we have plans to go if necessary.”
Zeke strokes his chin and nods. “Right now y’all are pretty lucky. No Eaters here. But we’ve noticed they’re forming into huge groups. We’ve been calling them pods. Like a group of whales? They don’t seem to pay each other any mind, but they stick together. Also, they seem to be on the move. Maybe looking for more of us, now that the cities are mainly empty.”
Ana’s face is desperate. “Do you know anything about New York City? Brooklyn in particular?”
Zeke shakes his head. “Sorry, I don’t, except there’s one group broadcasting out of the city. But keep your eye out for those pods forming up. Figured we’d be safest among a lot of people up north, especially once it gets cold.”
“Zeke, what did you do before all of this?” I ask. “Were you military or something?”
“Nah. Name’s not even Zeke. They started calling me Zeke for Zombie Killer, as a joke. Z.K., get it? Martin George, D.D.S., at your service.”
“You’re a dentist?”
He laughs his big laugh again. “Yup, so if you get a toothache, you’ll know who to look for.”
We wish them luck and watch them head into Wal-Mart before we leave. I wonder if we should have asked them to stay with us, but where would we put them all? John must be thinking the same thing.
“I do wish we had more people,” he says. “Maybe we should talk seriously about moving to a Safe Zone before winter. But traveling to it’s going to be dangerous, and I hate to chance that, unless we’re forced to.”
“I like where we are,” Ana says. “I might want to try out these weapons, but I haven’t lost my mind.”
CHAPTER 90
“Can I talk to you?” Peter asks.
My head shoots up so fast it hits Flora in the side and she gives a baa of protest. I stop milking and spin around. Peter leans against the wall, hands in his pockets.
My own hands tremble and I clasp them together. “Okay.”
“Can we try to be friends?”
I remember asking him the same thing not too long ago. “I thought you didn’t want to be friends.”
His face is expressionless, but his eyes are full of some emotion I can’t read. “Well, I would like to be now. We have to live together. I’m trying really hard, Cassie.”
He sounds irritated that I don’t appreciate his effort.
“Only you would have to try to be nice, Peter. So you’ve spent the past month being an active participant here, but that doesn’t erase how you’ve treated me or what you’ve said.”
“Can I apologize? You know, I think Adrian—”
I can’t believe he’s bringing up Adrian. I stand so fast I knock over the milking stool. “Don’t even say another word, Peter. I already know what you think. You made it very clear and, actually, it’s none of your fucking business.” I know my face is bright red, and it’s all I can do not to scream. I blink back tears. I will not cry in front of him. He shifts uncomfortably against the wall. “And you don’t offer to apologize. Or ask to apologize. If you’re really sorry, you just apologize.”
His face is red now, too. Whether it’s because he’s angry or embarrassed, I don’t know and don’t care.
“Can I start over?” he asks.
“You can do whatever you want, Peter. With absolutely no repercussions. I’m pretty sure that’s been established.” It may be unfair, but I say it anyway. His face falls for a second and then tightens back into its normal expression. I grab the milk bucket and stomp to the house.
CHAPTER 91
Nelly brings me another tray of dried peas. I pour them into a jar and use the pump to remove any excess air. James cuts green beans and Penny loads them into jars for the canner. No sooner have we caught up than Bits comes in with another bowl.
“Peter says there’s tons more up high where he can reach,” she says.
“Goody,” Penny mutters.
Her hair is stuck to her temples with sweat. It’s a hot day and every window is open, but the breeze is non-existent. Add all the running burners, and the kitchen is an oven.
“Thanks, Bits,” I say, and take the bowl.
Bits grabs a few beans and munches on them like she’s been doing all day.
“Hey, Bits, you’d better not eat too many.”
She looks worried and her chewing slows. “Why?”
I try not to smile. “Too many fresh green beans can turn you green. I guess you didn’t know that.”
She considers what I’ve said and watches me carefully. “Cassie, I know you’re kidding!”
We grin at each other. “My mom almost got me with that one when I was little. I think you figured it out faster than me, though.”
She bites the tops off another handful, like she’s daring them to try to turn her green, and skips out the door with a wave of her hand. We’ve been reading the Little House books, and she’s thrilled to be doing the same things as Laura. She’s been bugging us to get a pig so we can butcher it in the fall and build a smokehouse. John told her he’d see what he could do.
“I’m freakin’ dying,” Penny says. She lifts her hair and fans her neck. “How did your parents do this all summer?”
“You just picture all the jars lined up on a shelf in the winter and it cools you down,” I say. She looks dubious. “Okay. You sweat your ass off, but it’s worth it anyway.”
“Plus, we really have to do it,” James says. “We’re going to need food.” He chops the latest installment of beans and whistles.
“Have you ever been angry, James?” I ask. I wish I could take a pinch of him and sprinkle it on myself.
He looks confused. “Sure.”
He catches Penny’s head shake out of the corner of his eye and puts his hands on her waist. “I don’t get angry at you because you’re perfect.”
Penny blushes. I make a face, even though I think it’s cute. “Yeah, yeah, young love,” I say. “Seriously, even when you’re angry you only seem half angry.”
He shrugs. “I just don’t get all worked up about stuff. I never have. Life’s too short, especially now.”
I know he’s right. I tell myself that over and over again, hoping it will sink in.
CHAPTER 92
John actually found a skinny, neglected pig for Bits. She’s named him Bert, and she tries to clear the table before we’ve eaten the food on our plates so he can have it. I’m not quite sure how the whole butchering in the fall thing is going to go. I have a feeling we’ve acquired a pet pig.
Bits is so good-natured she seems impossible to spoil. When I see the photograph of Bits and her mother, I try not to imagine her tied up, screaming. Or forcing herself not to scream, desperate for extra seconds before the infected reach her. I wonder if it was that much worse because she knew she was leaving Bits unprotected. I hope she can see us and her heart is at peace. I hope she can hear me when I promise her we’ll do the best we can.
Bits still believes in fairies. At first I thought it strange, but we live in a world with zombies, so maybe fairies aren’t so farfetched. We planted a fairy garden and we lie in wait for them in the grass. We haven’t caught one yet, although once I watched Peter surreptitiously sprinkle glitter over the plants so she would find it in the morning.
Peter tries to be civil to me, even though, at best, I pretend he doesn’t exist. At worst, I’m bitchy and short-tempered with him. It seems like no sooner do I think s
omething mean than it comes out of my mouth. I’m not proud of it at all, but I can’t seem to stop.
I’m on a ladder in the barn, nailing the loose boards. It’s looking like a real barn these days, with hay and bags of feed stacked up for winter. Bert snores in his pen, Flora and Fauna hop around and the chickens cluck softly. It even smells like a barn, in a good way.
I turn to say something to Nelly, who’s mucking out the goat stall, and the ladder wobbles. “Shit!” I yell.
I grab the wall to steady myself as Peter appears. He grips the base of the ladder and looks up at me. “The ground’s uneven here. I’ll hold it while you finish up.”
I don’t want his help. I don’t want to owe him anything, not even a thank you. I whack a nail and shake my head. “I’m fine.”
“I don’t want you to fall,” he says.
I don’t know why he can’t just leave me alone. “Peter! I. Don’t. Want. Your. Help. Leave me alone.”
Peter’s shoulders stiffen. He lets go and leaves the barn quietly, although he gives the door a good slam. I give the nail another whack and try not to feel guilty. The ladder steadies again, and I look down at Nelly’s stern face. I know that look.
“What?” I ask.
“Remember how you used to tell me that Peter was a nice guy underneath all that bullshit?” I nod and look away. “Well, you were right. Hey, can you believe I’m admitting you were right?”
He’s joking to soften the fact that he’s reprimanding me, but I still feel heat creep up my neck.
“He’s doing everything he can to show he’s sorry, Cass. He took me aside to apologize for having been a jerk, even before all this went down. You have to see how much he loves Bits, how good he is with her? He has risen to the occasion. It just took him a little longer and one big mistake.”
I nod again, but I’m so ashamed I can’t look at him.
“You’ve never held grudges. So why now? You need to forgive him for what he’s said and done. You’ve said your share at this point, too. And stop holding him responsible for the things he’s not responsible for.
Until the End of the World (Book 1) Page 27
