The corporal swore but didn’t protest a second time. He also didn’t look any happier about the plan.
“You up for it?” Devon asked, his gaze moving from Kiaya to me as he posed the same question he’d shot at Buck.
At some point, Kiaya had pulled her hair up into a ponytail, and it bobbed when she nodded. “Of course.”
“Me, too,” I piped in.
The butterflies in my stomach contradicted my words, but I held my head high and tried my best to hide the nerves that seemed suddenly ready to overpower me.
Miller rolled his eyes.
“Okay.” Devon blew out a breath. “The four of us will go, then.”
Since Buck had a knife of his own, Devon handed Kiaya the other hunting knife we’d scavenged, leaving the kitchen knife for me. The image of my mom slicing carrots was still fresh in my mind when I took it with a shaky hand, swallowing in hopes of pushing both the memories and my nerves down where they belonged. It didn’t work.
“Guns only in an emergency,” Devon said, handing one first to Kiaya before holding a second one out to me. When our eyes met, he pinned me with a serious stare. “Understand?”
“Why are you only saying that to me?” I shot back.
I couldn’t help it. Devon put me on the defense more than anyone I’d ever met. I’d only just begun to understand the reason behind it, though. I wanted him to see me the way he saw Lisa. Strong and independent, and able to take care of myself. The problem was, I didn’t see myself like that, and until I did, I was never going to be able to convince anyone I was anything but a scared little girl.
“Because she’s not the one who got trigger happy in Shamrock and almost shot Randall in the head,” Devon said evenly.
Heat moved up my neck to my cheeks as I remembered taking that shot. There’d been a faint smell of decay when we’d snuck into the pharmacy to look for antibiotics, and I’d been certain the flash of movement I saw seconds before I pulled the trigger was a zombie. Thankfully, I was a horrible shot, because it had ended up being Randall, who’d snuck out to get a candy bar in hopes of cheering up his niece.
Devon winked, letting me know he wasn’t trying to make me feel bad. The gesture softened the blow his words had made, though, which I was grateful for. The last thing I needed was to be irritated or distracted when we headed out.
He grabbed one of the empty bags sitting on the counter, and the rest of us followed suit. I ended up with one I’d dug out of storage, which just so happened to be the backpack I’d used my junior year of high school. I slung it over my shoulder, giving it a once-over as I did. The thing looked like it had hardly been used. No holes or even visible wear. It made me wonder why I’d gotten a new one the next year. Come to think of it, I’d gotten a new one every year whether I needed it or not. It was something I’d never even considered before. Like it was a right rather than a privilege. For me, a new school year had meant a new wardrobe and a new backpack, as well as anything else I wanted.
“Rowan.”
Kiaya’s soft voice infiltrated my thoughts, and I looked up to find her gentle brown eyes focused on me. Behind her, Devon and Buck had already moved to the door and stood waiting in tense silence, and everyone else in the room was waiting, as well. Again, heat moved to my cheeks, and I silently chided myself.
Get it together, Rowan. Show them you can do this.
“You okay?” Kiaya asked.
“Yup,” I said, the word popping out of me. “Just giving myself a pep talk.”
She smiled, but the gesture didn’t reach her eyes.
Together, we walked over to join the others. Devon was watching me with obvious concern, and I gave him a confident nod. At least I hoped it looked confident. Since he relaxed, I took it as a good sign, but considering my head barely bobbed, I wasn’t sure how the gesture could reassure anyone.
Lisa stood waiting at the door, her hand on the knob so she could open it for us. It wasn’t necessary since the back yard was clear, but she was doing it more to show her support than anything, and I appreciated it.
Devon paused at the back door, taking a couple deep breaths, with Buck right behind him and Kiaya and me at the rear.
“Be careful out there,” Lisa said, her gaze sweeping over us.
“We will.” My voice came out shaky, so I took a deep breath, silently telling myself to calm down.
“Here we go,” Devon muttered before nodding to Lisa.
She pulled the door open, and he stepped out, pausing for just a second to look around.
The grass was longer than I’d ever seen, but otherwise the yard looked exactly as it had the last time I was home. The air in Ohio had grown cooler, the days shorter, but the leaves hadn’t yet fallen from the trees, and everything was still green. The flowers my mother had so lovingly tended throughout the summer were still in bloom, as well. They ran along the back of the yard, lining the four-foot black, metal fence.
The pillar of smoke in the distance seemed darker than it had been before, maybe a little bigger, too, although I couldn’t say for sure, and there was a slightly smoky smell to the air when I sniffed. It was better than the stink of rot, but not great.
Once Devon was sure the coast was clear, he was on the move. The rest of us followed, moving in a silent line across the yard. We only paused for a second so Devon could grab one of the patio chairs, then we were once again charging across the yard. We passed the furniture set up under the pergola, and the hot tub, then made an arc around the inground pool. It had already been closed for the season, and a small puddle of water had collected on the black cover, right in the center. The bright sun reflected off it, making me squint whenever I glanced that way, so I tried to keep my focus on Devon.
He reached the fence and set the chair down before turning to face us, his gaze jumping from Kiaya, to me, to Buck.
“I’ll go first.” Devon’s voice was barely above a whisper, making it difficult to hear, so I concentrated on his lips in hopes of catching every word. “Try not to make too much noise.”
Three heads bobbed in response.
Devon climbed onto the chair and eased one leg over the fence, his gaze darting toward the street. From where we were, we could see part of the cul-de-sac, but the landscaping made it so we were mostly shielded from. At the moment, none of the dead were in sight, but we knew they were there because we could hear them. Their moans got carried on the breeze, coming back to tease us, and it seemed like my heart beat faster with each new sound.
Devon was over the fence in no time, landing with a soft thud on the other side. Kiaya climbed up after him and threw her leg over, not even glancing toward the road before jumping into the neighboring yard.
Buck nudged me from behind. “Up you go.”
The faint scent of scotch was discernable on his breath, but his speech wasn’t the least bit slurred and his eyes were clear, so I wasn’t worried. Maybe he hadn’t had that much to drink. Maybe it wasn’t actually a problem, and he really had just needed to take the edge off. Who could blame him after the last few days? Not me, that was for sure.
I did as I was told and climbed onto the chair, holding on to the back and the fence to keep the thing steady. Once up, I shot a quick look toward the street. I was only a little higher than before, but it was enough to allow me to see over the bushes and pine trees, and the angle gave me a glimpse of a couple zombies. I focused on Devon, who stood in front of me, the two of us separated by only the fence. He held his hand out, and I took it as I swung one leg over, then rested my ass on the thin metal before pulling the other leg over as well. Then I jumped.
The ground came up to meet me faster than I’d anticipated, and I stumbled forward when my feet hit the ground, only managing to regain my footing thanks to Devon’s firm grip on my hand. He gave it a squeeze, his blue eyes sweeping over me quickly as if to reassure himself I was okay, then he released me and turned back to the fence.
“You okay?” Kiaya asked when I went over to join her, and I knew sh
e wasn’t asking about the jump.
A breeze blew before I had the chance to respond, bringing with it the stink of death and a chorus of moans. The shudder that wracked my body made it impossible to lie.
“I’ll be better when we’re home. Or at least inside,” I said.
She nodded, her big, brown eyes mirroring my own unease.
A thud at my back told me Buck had made it over, and a second later, Devon was at my side.
“We’re going in the back. Nice and slow. And quiet.” He was hunched over as he talked, his voice as low as it had been before and every inch of his body tense. “Ready?”
We all nodded in response.
Devon took off, heading for the back door, and the rest of us followed. The yard was clear, as were the yards beyond it—at least as far as I could see—but that didn’t stop my heart from beating like a drum. I’d never felt so anxious or overwrought in my life.
The neighbor’s house had a large patio area decked out with expensive outdoor furniture, a huge stone fireplace and grill area, and even an outdoor fridge. Through the glass door I caught sight of a couple bottles of wine, as well as some beer, and I didn’t miss it when Buck slowed at the sight of them. Thankfully, he didn’t stop.
Devon slowed as he approached the door, his body hunched like he hoped it would hide him from view. Through the French doors, the gourmet kitchen was visible, dark and empty, and beyond that, the living room wasn’t any livelier.
“What’s the plan?” Kiaya hissed.
We were all peering in through different windows, trying to figure out if the neighbors—dead or alive—were still inside, but there was no movement. Nothing to tell us what had happened to the family.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Devon said. “If what we’ve heard is true and eighty-five percent of the population is dead, the odds are pretty good that most people are still in their homes. A few people would have tried to get away even if they were sick, but most people want to be in their own home when they’re not feeling well. Right?” He looked around to confirm we all agreed before continuing. “So, the odds are pretty good that most of the houses we go to are going to be inhabited with zombies.”
He was right, which didn’t make me any less anxious about what we were facing.
“What do you suggest?” Buck asked.
“I’ll be honest, I’m not sure what the best approach is. We can choose to go inside quietly and search the house, hoping to surprise them, or we can try to draw them out before we go in, so we know what we’re dealing with.”
“I don’t like either option,” I muttered.
Kiaya shook her head, but I wasn’t sure who she was disagreeing with.
Devon paused as if waiting to hear what everyone thought, but no one uttered a word.
“Great,” he said, sighing. “I guess it’s up to me.”
“We know as much as you do,” I pointed out.
“Yeah,” he replied.
He turned back to the door, pausing for a few seconds longer to study the interior before reaching for the doorknob. I held my breath, knowing the odds of the house being unlocked were slim, and let it out in an exasperated sigh when the knob didn’t turn.
“Damn,” Devon muttered and stepped back, studying the house. “Let’s check the windows on the first floor. Maybe someone left one cracked or at least didn’t lock it. Although I doubt we’re going to get that lucky.”
We spread out, each of us taking a different window.
The window I came to was shut tight, but I couldn’t tell if it was locked since the screen was in the way. I looked around to see what the others were doing and watched as Devon used his knife to pry the screen free. He set it aside, careful not to make any noise, then tried to work his knife under the window to lift it. The thing didn’t budge.
Turning back to my own window, I pulled out my knife and mimicked what I’d just watched him do. I felt like a burglar, albeit a very unsuccessful one. Getting the screen out was a snap, but once it was gone, I couldn’t get my knife under the window any more than Devon had been able to. The thing was locked, which wasn’t much of a surprise.
When I turned back to face the others, their expressions of defeat told me I hadn’t been alone in my lack of success.
“Looks like we’re going to have to break in,” Devon said, exhaling.
“What about an extra key?” Kiaya was already looking around. “My last foster parents used to hide one in the back yard just in case one of us got locked out.”
“Seems a little far-fetched, but we can try,” Devon mumbled.
We panned out a second time and got busy lifting potted plants and looking under the rocks. I even looked under the couch cushions, thinking they might have stashed something there, but there was nothing.
“Look!” Kiaya gasped a few minutes later, and I spun to face her.
She’d lifted one of the potted plants to look under it, but there’d been nothing. Except then she lifted the actual pot, leaving the matching ceramic drip pan behind. There, taped to the bottom of the pot, was a little silver key.
“Good work,” Devon said.
Kiaya pried the thing free and tore the tape off, tossing it on the ground. I stared at it, uneasy with the idea of littering, but forced myself to go after the others when they headed toward the door.
Devon took the key and slid it into the lock, turning it slowly like he was afraid it was going to set off a booby trap if he did it too fast. There was a click, and he did the same with the deadbolt.
My body tensed as he looked back to make sure we were ready, his hand resting on the knob. The thud of my heartbeat echoed in my ears and made it impossible to hear Devon’s words when he spoke. It didn’t matter, because he was either telling us to be quiet or asking if we were ready. I nodded along with the others and gripped my knife tighter.
He turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open before stepping inside. Kiaya followed, and I went next, with Buck taking up the rear. We tiptoed into the house in a line like something out of a cartoon. It would have been comical if I wasn’t ready to jump out of my skin.
Devon paused in the kitchen, listening, but my ears were still too full of the sound of my own blood pumping, and I couldn’t hear a thing.
I could smell, though. The air was stale and dusty, like a house that had been closed up and neglected for too long, and the sickly-sweet smell of decaying food tickled my nostrils. In the kitchen, a few flies buzzed around a bowl of rotting fruit. Bananas that had long ago turned black, avocados that had begun to flatten, apples that had open brown spots on their skin. Everything was covered in a layer of dust, and the light dancing in through the floor to ceiling windows shimmered off cobwebs that were strung between the island’s pendant lights.
The thud in my ears prevented me from being able to hear, so I took a deep breath and blew it out, hoping to clear my ears. It seemed to work enough that I was able to focus better, and as far as I could tell, the interior was quiet. No footsteps or thumping from other areas of the house. No moans.
“Rowan,” Devon hissed, drawing my attention to him. “You’ve been here before. Where are the bedrooms?”
“The kids’ are upstairs,” I mouthed more than said, then nodded to the closed door on the other side of the living room. “The parents’ is over there.”
His head dipped twice.
“Should we split up?” Kiaya asked. “Or stay together?”
My gut clenched at the idea of splitting into two groups, and I was relieved when Devon frowned. “I think we should stay together.”
“I agree,” I said.
Kiaya’s ponytail bobbed with her nod.
I was beginning to feel like I was playing a very messed-up version of follow the leader as Devon headed across the living room and we all followed without comment. Not that it was a very fun game.
He stopped outside the closed door to the master bedroom, once again looking back to make sure we were all ready, then slowly turned
the knob. I held my breath, hoping against hope the house was for some reason empty and there was nothing waiting for us behind this door.
The hinges squeaked, and something inside the room shuffled. Devon’s already stiff body straightened even more as he readied himself for an attack. There was another shuffle, but the door was only open a little, and his broad frame blocked the room from view. Unfortunately, it didn’t block the smell.
The scent of decay was unmistakable, reminding me of roadkill that had been baking in the sun for days. I covered my nose with the hand not holding my knife, and Devon swore, and only a split second later, he shoved the door. Hard. It flew open, slamming into the wall, and the bedroom came into view, revealing the thing that use to be Mr. Mercer. He was in the middle of the room, his skin gray and loose, his eyes milky as he stumbled toward us. Behind him, Mrs. Mercer was up as well, just as decayed and sickening, and like her husband, she was already on the move.
“Devon!” I gasped when the zombie man lunged for him.
“Got him.”
His left hand got hold of the thing’s neck, his fingers sinking into rotting flesh. The zombie growled and fought as Devon swung his knife toward its head, but the creature reached for him at the same time, deflecting the blade. The knife fell from Devon’s hand and went flying, hitting the wall and dropping to the floor. With both hands now empty, Devon didn’t have to work as hard to hold the zombie back, but he was still grunting from exertion. Even worse, Mrs. Mercer was still on the way.
“Kiaya,” I called as I moved into the room. “Help Devon. Buck, let’s take care of this one.”
My heart was beating like the ominous theme song in a horror movie, and I had no idea where the courage flowing through me had come from, because a second before the door opened, I’d been sure I was going to pee my pants. Now, though, all I could focus on was the adrenaline. It was feeding my desire to live. Fight or flight had hit me full-force, and despite how uncertain I was about my ability to survive in this world, I was more than ready to fight to stay here.
Far Series | Book 2 | Far From Safe Page 5
