Far Series | Book 2 | Far From Safe

by Mary, Kate L.

  There were five rooms upstairs. Two bedrooms, a guest room, and an office, as well as the hall bathroom. Knowing there most likely wouldn’t be much in the spare room, I headed to the office first.

  The blinds were closed, blocking out the sun, so the first thing I did was cross the room and pull them open. A puff of dust rose up around me just as I inhaled, and a tickle in my nose followed, telling me I was going to sneeze. I sniffed, trying to hold it in, but it was an impossible task. Tucking my nose into the crook of my arm, I sneezed once, twice, three times, before feeling any relief.

  “God bless you,” Devon said from behind me.

  I wiped my eyes as I shot him a grateful look. “Thanks.”

  He was standing in front of the L-shaped desk, one hand on the drawer when he lifted his eyebrows in a silent question. I knew what he was asking even though he didn’t voice it.

  Are you okay?

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, and I silently told myself I wasn’t lying.

  “I know you will.” He focused on the desk as he pulled the drawer out. “I just want to make sure you’re okay now.”

  The assurance with which he said it gave me the boost I needed.

  “I am,” I said.

  He didn’t look back at me, but he did nod.

  I left him to rifle through the desk while I looked the rest of the room over. There wasn’t much. The desk, a small filing cabinet, a bookcase, and a leather armchair in the corner. There was a closet, though, so I headed that way, hoping they’d used it to stockpile things that would have helped them survive the end of the world, only to discover it was shoved full of out-of-season clothes. Big, fluffy coats, snow pants, and even a few raincoats. Useful when the weather turned cold, but not something we needed at the moment.

  I turned back to face Devon. “Find anything?”

  “More batteries and another flashlight.” He waved the heavy-duty Maglite in the air without looking up. “Not much else.”

  It may not have been a lot, but we needed it. We had a small stash of flashlights we’d picked up along the way, both from when we’d raided the cars in Vega and from the meager belongings Buck, Miller, and Lisa had when they left the Western Motel. We’d added a few more since arriving at my house, but I’d been more than a little disappointed in my parents’ survival planning. Or lack of, really. We’d had little in the way of necessary items when it came to the end of civilization, and only three measly flashlights. It was crazy, especially considering Ohio was prone to high winds that could knock out power, and even tornadoes. Why hadn’t they planned better?

  I headed for the door. “Hopefully, the bathroom and other bedrooms have more.”

  It took us a total of ten minutes to pilfer the other two rooms. Like I’d thought, the bedrooms provided nothing of real use, but we got lucky in the bathroom and found some first aid supplies. Hydrogen peroxide and rubbing alcohol, some Band-Aids and antibiotic ointment. Once those were stashed away, we headed downstairs.

  We’d only made it halfway when we were greeted by clang of metal on metal, telling me someone was digging through the kitchen. It was probably Buck or Kiaya, but it didn’t stop my body from growing stiff with anticipation as I neared. Devon moved closer to me, and by the time we’d finally turned the corner and the kitchen came into view, it felt like his body heat had wrapped around me. Despite the stuffy house, the feeling was welcome.

  Buck was in the kitchen, and I immediately relaxed at the sight of him, while at my side Devon let out a breath he must have been holding. Two steps closer, though, and I froze. There was a bottle of whiskey on the counter in front of him and a half-full glass in his hand.

  Devon didn’t stop, and Buck turned at the sound of his footsteps.

  “Find anything in the basement?” Devon asked, his gaze on the glass even though he didn’t mention it.

  “This and that.” The glass clinked against the granite counter when Buck set it down. “Some extra food stashed down in the bar area. Some booze.”

  He nodded to the counter, and I noticed not just the whiskey, but a few other bottles, as well. Vodka, rum, and even some wine.

  “Need to be careful with that stuff,” Devon said as he headed into the kitchen. “Want to keep a clear head. Plus, water is already scarce, and we need to be careful not to get dehydrated.”

  “I’ll be careful,” Buck said, giving a single nod.

  Devon’s head dipped once in reply, then he headed to the closed pantry door like they’d come to some kind of understanding. The drinking was a concern, but I wasn’t sure how worried I should be. Buck had been useful and reliable so far, especially back at the Western Motel. Did that mean he didn’t have a problem, or had he just run out of booze? Had he and Devon already discussed this while I was asleep or not around? I wasn’t sure, but I did know now wasn’t the time to worry about it. We needed to get what supplies we could and head home.

  “Kiaya in the bedroom?” I asked as I headed for a nearby hall closet.

  “Yup,” Buck said.

  The glass clinked against the counter again, followed by the creaking of hinges.

  “The pantry’s pretty stocked,” Devon said from behind me.

  “Some other stuff here, too,” Buck replied.

  I ignored them and focused on the closet.

  There wasn’t much that would be useful, but I did manage to find three pairs of really nice leather gloves. I pulled one on and flexed my fingers, liking how little the soft leather hindered my movements. These would come in handy when we were out, and not just to protect us from the cold. It was doubtful zombies would be able to rip their way through leather. Other than the gloves, the only things I took from the closet were two more duffle bags—both empty.

  By the time I made it back into the kitchen, the counter was covered with boxed and canned food. It was like we’d raided a grocery store.

  “Whoa,” I said, eyeing the food.

  Devon smiled as he carried another armful of cans over to join the rest. “These people were stocked up.”

  “Yeah,” I murmured, already sorting through the items.

  I never would have guessed the Mercers were so dependent on processed food, especially considering Mrs. Mercer’s obsession with running, but the proof was in front of me in the form of canned soups, vegetables, fruits, and even meats. Then there were the boxed meals. Macaroni and other pastas, and snacks by the dozens. Boxed cookies and cereals, crackers, and miscellaneous other items.

  “Why’d they have so much?” I murmured as I ran my hand over a stack of canned tuna.

  “Maybe she went shopping just before they got sick,” Devon said, “or maybe she was just one of those people who liked to be ready for anything.”

  “Now that you mention it, I remember the pantry always being full when I babysat.” I smiled at the memory. “My mom never bought stuff like this, so after I’d put the boys to bed, I’d have a big bowl of sugary cereal while I watched television.”

  My smile faded when I realized I was the only person in that story who was still alive.

  I looked up when Devon covered my hand with his. “It will get easier.”

  “I know,” I said, even though I didn’t.

  “Not a lot,” Kiaya said from behind me.

  Devon moved his hand like he’d been doing something wrong and didn’t want to get caught, then went back to the pantry.

  Could there really be more food? We’d found so much already.

  Kiaya huffed and dropped her duffle bag on the floor. It wasn’t as empty as it had been, but it wasn’t jammed full either. Not that it was a surprise. Other than food, the thing we needed most was survival gear, and it was doubtful many of the people in my neighborhood would have it. Definitely not the Mercers, who hadn’t been very outdoorsy—unless you counted exercising outside.

  “Some basic items,” Kiaya said when she saw me eyeing the bag. “A small first aid kit and some feminine products.”

  That was something I hadn’t even tho
ught about, but something several of us would need. “Good thinking.”

  “I can’t really take a lot of credit,” she said. “It hadn’t even occurred to me until I saw it under the sink.”

  “Me neither.” I sighed. “I have a feeling there’s a lot I’m not going to consider until it’s looking me in the face.”

  “You’re not alone in that,” Kiaya said.

  “You want to pack some of this stuff up?” Devon asked.

  His tone wasn’t harsh, and it wasn’t an order—something he’d had a habit of doing when we first met—but there was a slight edge to the words.

  “Sorry,” I said as I unzipped my bag and started grabbing stuff.

  “Just anxious to get moving.” He gave me a tense smile. “That’s all.”

  He had a point. The sooner we got all this packed up, the sooner we could get home where I felt at least a little bit safer.

  “I’m going to check out the garage while you do that,” Kiaya said. “We came here looking for bats, after all.”

  “Good idea,” I said, shoving boxes into my bag. “I’ll load up, and hopefully we can move on once you’re back.”

  Kiaya nodded once before heading off.

  Things went fast after that. Devon and Buck emptied the cabinets of everything useful while I loaded it into bags, filling one after the other after the other until five of our six bags were jammed full. Under the kitchen sink, Devon discovered more flashlights, and Buck located a cache of batteries in a junk drawer, and five minutes after she’d left, Kiaya returned with three baseball bats. Two metal and one wood.

  “Pretty much all I could find in the garage unless you think a weed whacker will be of any use.”

  “Doubt it,” Devon said.

  Kiaya only nodded.

  I crammed the last two cans into my bag and forced the zipper shut. “That’s it.”

  When I looked up, smiling, my gaze landed on Buck just as he downed the last little bit of liquid in his glass.

  I looked away, not wanting him to see the worry—and judgement—in my eyes, and my gaze met Kiaya’s. She frowned, telling me she’d seen it as well, and I made a mental note to talk to her about it later. Maybe even Devon as well.

  Either not aware of our concern or not caring, Buck swiped the one empty bag off the counter and started loading the bottles of booze into it. There were more than there had been before, so I could only assume he’d found the upstairs liquor cabinet while searching the kitchen. I just prayed he had this thing, whatever it was, under control.

  “All the bags are full,” I said as I hauled my bookbag up off the counter.

  “I know.” Devon watched me, his expression thoughtful. “I don’t like giving up so soon, so I’m thinking we toss the bags over the fence and head to the next house. Hopefully, Lisa and Miller will go out to get them, but if not, we can take care of it on our way back.”

  “You want to head to the next house with no bags?” Kiaya slung her bulging duffle over her shoulder, and even though it looked way too big for her small frame, she seemed to barely react to the weight.

  “Most people have bags like these.” Devon hauled two over-stuffed duffels off the floor. “We’ll just have to find them when we reach the next house.”

  “He’s got a point,” Buck said.

  Kiaya nodded, and I mimicked her even though I wasn’t jumping up and down at the thought of going into the house of yet another person I’d known. Not that we had a choice. We needed supplies more than I needed to be able to close my eyes at night without picturing my neighbors as zombies. Plus, that part was kind of inevitable at this point.

  “Ready?” Devon asked, his gaze taking each one of us in.

  “As we’ll ever be, I guess,” I said.

  We headed outside and tiptoed across the back yard to the fence, where Devon tossed his bag over. It barely had time to hit the ground on the other side when the back door opened, and Lisa hurried out. She was empty-handed, but I could see the butt of her gun peeking out from under her shirt where she had it stuffed in her waistband. She moved fast but stayed low, her eyes darting from us to the street once she was within range of the dead. We were still pretty concealed by the shrubbery, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t hear them from back here. The moans were louder than before. More frequent.

  Had the horde on the street grown?

  Kiaya tossed her duffle bag over the fence as Devon threw the second one he was carrying into my yard, his hands now empty except for one of the bats we’d taken from the garage.

  “You got a lot,” Lisa whispered once she’d reached us.

  “We want to hit at least one more house, though,” Devon said.

  I slipped the straps of my backpack off and dropped it over the fence, only then noticing Buck was missing. When I looked back, I wasn’t at all surprised to find him raiding the outdoor fridge.

  This was going to be a problem.

  “Devon,” I whispered, keeping my voice low both because of the zombies and because of Buck. “Is this something we need to be worried about?”

  Devon followed my gaze when I jerked my head toward the patio.

  He frowned but shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’ll talk to him about it. I promise.”

  “We can’t have him out here if he’s a liability,” Kiaya said.

  “I know.” Devon exhaled. “Should I send him back now?”

  “I think the three of us can take care of it,” I said.

  Devon blew out another long breath, his gaze darting from us to Buck. The older man was now on his way to the fence, and the clink of the bottles as they banged against one another echoed through the silence as he jogged.

  “Shit,” Devon muttered, shaking his head. “Fine. I’ll send him back.”

  Buck was huffing by the time he joined us. “Sorry. Thought we should take everything.”

  He didn’t meet anyone’s gaze, but even if he had, we all would have known he was lying.

  “Let me have that,” Lisa said, holding her hands out so Buck could pass her the bag.

  He did, and she slung it over her shoulder, wincing when the bottles clanged together yet again. A moan followed, and my heart beat faster.

  “I want you to head back with Lisa,” Devon said.

  Buck’s back stiffened. “But y’all are still goin’?”

  Devon lifted his eyebrows, not saying anything but holding Buck’s gaze.

  After a few seconds, the older man let out a resigned sigh. “Yeah, okay. I get it.”

  “Good.” Devon turned to Kiaya and me. “You ready?”

  “Always,” Kiaya said.

  I snorted. “Never, but yes.”

  If I’d tried to lie, it would have been as obvious as the one Buck had just told.

  Since we hadn’t carried a chair over, Devon had to give Buck a quick boost to help him over the fence, but it was easy enough, and soon he was on the other side with Lisa. Together, they gathered the bags, then they were charging toward the house with their arms full.

  Miller never even poked his head out to see if they needed help.

  “Looks like Buck isn’t the only one I’m going to have to have a talk with,” Devon muttered as we headed across the yard toward the other fence. “I’m going to rip Miller a new one.”

  He had the bat in one hand, and the way his grip tightened on it made it seem like he was imagining punching—or maybe strangling—Miller.

  “That guy is a grade-A pain in the ass,” Kiaya said.

  “And a creeper,” I muttered, still thinking about this morning.

  Devon shot me a look, his eyebrows raised. “Something happen?”

  “Nothing different than usual,” I said, which wasn’t a lie as far as I knew, although I couldn’t be certain.

  Devon frowned like he could see right through me. I’d always thought I was a good liar, so maybe he was just extra good at reading people.

  He grabbed a chair as he passed the patio furniture, and the three of us were over th
e fence in seconds. Like before, we found ourselves mostly concealed by the landscaping, but it didn’t stop us from keeping low as we crossed the yard to the house.

  We were still a good fifteen feet away when Devon grabbed my arm and pulled me close to him. “Who lives here?”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Ito,” I hissed, keeping my voice low.

  “Ito?” Devon repeated.

  “We have a pretty good-sized Japanese population in Troy because of the Honda plant. Most families are only here for a few years, but Mrs. Ito is from the area. She and Mr. Ito met while she was working in Japan, and he took a different position when they moved back here together so they could stay. Their son, Akio, graduated a year ahead of me in school.”

  I thought of Akio, who’d I’d known most of my life, and wondered where he was. Inside? God, I hoped not. Seeing the Mercer kids had been difficult enough, but Akio and I had been friends. We’d ridden our bikes to the pond together as kids and tossed breadcrumbs to the fish, had created elaborate chalk drawings on the sidewalk during the spring, and run through the sprinklers together in the summer before my parents got a pool. He’d been a nice guy. Smart and funny. I didn’t know if I could handle seeing him as a zombie. His parents would be just as bad. They’d been so nice. Friendly. How could I face this? We hadn’t even made it inside, and already I was getting choked up. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this world.

  Devon grabbed my arm again as we neared the door, this time urging me to stop. “Can you do this?”

  I nodded, but the doubt in Devon’s eyes was obvious.

  He let out a long breath. “Okay, but stay behind me. Got it?”

  I wasn’t going to argue.

  Like with the Mercers, Devon tried the door first, but just as we’d all expected, it was locked. Without having to even discuss it, the three of us spread out, hoping we’d find a cracked window or some other way to get inside. It seemed like a longshot, but miracles did happen. Or so I’d heard, anyway. It was pretty difficult to believe anything good could happen when you were about to face off with yet another undead version of someone you’d known.

  “Here,” Kiaya hissed, waving to a window that led into the living room.

  Devon and I hurried over to join her, each of us keeping low even though not a single zombie was in sight, and I had to do a double take when I realized what she was waving to. The window was cracked a few inches. Maybe someone was looking out for us after all.