“Perfect,” Devon said as he pulled his knife.
He worked it under the screen, and in seconds, it popped free, nearly falling to the ground. We were standing on the patio, and thinking about the metal frame hitting the cement had panic welling up inside me like a geyser ready to blow, but thankfully Devon caught it at the last second and gently set it aside.
Then he turned to Kiaya. “I’ll give you a boost. Once you’re inside, you can unlock the door.”
Her only response was a quick nod.
Devon laced his fingers together while I stood at her other side, ready to help if she needed it. My heart hadn’t slowed, and watching as she stepped into his hands and allowed him to hoist her up had it beating faster. I had the urge to look around as she shoved the window open the rest of the way, half expecting to see the police or maybe even hear the sound of a home security system being triggered. It remained as silent as it had been all day, though, and in seconds Kiaya had pulled herself up and disappeared from sight.
Once she was gone, Devon and I hurried to the door, waiting for it to open. A click sounded, then another, and then it was pulled open to reveal a smiling Kiaya.
“That was easy.”
“It would be nice if they all worked out like that,” Devon said as he and I stepped inside.
I hadn’t been inside the Itos’ house in going on ten years, not since Akio and I were kids, but not much about it had changed. It was just as meticulously neat as it had always been even though everything was covered in a layer of dust. It felt just as empty as the Mercers’ house had, but it lacked the same stench. There was no decay, food or otherwise, but I wasn’t sure what that meant. Had the Itos not been home when they died? Or maybe they’d already wandered outside like my mom…
“We should check the front door,” I said, moving automatically.
“Why?” Kiaya asked even as she followed.
“Because it doesn’t smell in this house. If they turned but figured out how to open doors, they might be on the street right now. I doubt they thought about shutting and locking the door before wandering off.”
I shuddered at the involuntary image of a zombie version of my childhood friend pausing so he could lock the front door of his house.
“Good thinking,” Devon said.
The front door came into view, and I let out a sigh of relief. It was shut tight.
I checked to make sure it was locked, anyway, and finding it secure, turned to face the others. “Maybe they just weren’t home when they turned.”
“Possible,” Devon said, “they could have—”
Something banged upstairs, and we all spun to face the stairs.
“You were saying?” Kiaya muttered, but it sounded mostly like she was talking to herself.
Devon lifted his bat like he was preparing for a fight. “Do they have a pet?”
I shook my head, still staring up the stairs and into the darkness beyond. “Not that I know of.”
“We better check—”
Devon had only taken one step when a figure appeared at the top of the stairs. It paused for just a second, but then started moving our way, its steps oddly erratic. It was too dark to get a good look at whoever or whatever it was, but it didn’t matter. We were ready.
Devon stepped forward, bat up, while at his back, Kiaya and I stood with our knives clutched in our hands. All three of us were prepared to take on the dead, but what we weren’t prepared for was when the figure moving toward us started talking.
“Akio.” It was the only thing I understood as Japanese poured from Mr. Ito’s mouth.
The words tumbled out of him, one after the other in a sea of desperation, but stopped suddenly when he was halfway down the stairs. It was like a switch had been flipped, turning him off, and he stopped talking and froze at the same time. He’d just come into view, and I was both shocked and terrified by his appearance. He looked shrunken, as if he’d lost not just half his weight, but as if a part of him had been ripped away as well. His brown eyes were wide, twice as big as usual, and seemed frenzied as they bounced between us, not seeming to register what he was seeing even as disappointment and despair welled up in them.
“Mr. Ito,” I said, pushing past the others.
“Rowan,” Devon hissed, grabbing my arm.
I brushed him off.
“Mr. Ito, it’s me. Rowan Summers.” My neighbor’s gaze stayed on me, but it didn’t seem any more focused than before, so I took another step toward him, holding my hand out like a peace offering. “Are you okay? Is there something I can do for you?”
He blinked, and some of the life seemed to come back into his eyes. “Rowan? Is it really you?”
Mr. Ito had been in the United States for going on eighteen years and spoke perfect English, but his accent had never really faded. It seemed even thicker now, though. Like he’d forgotten how to speak English until this very moment.
“It’s me,” I said in a soothing voice, stepping closer. My hand still out. “I didn’t mean to scare you. We were looking for supplies and thought everyone else was gone.” I gave him a sad smile. “There are so few people left.”
I wanted to ask about Mrs. Ito. About Akio. I didn’t, though, because I had a feeling Mr. Ito was barely hanging onto his sanity as it was, and I was terrified of pushing him over the edge.
“Let’s go to the living room and talk. Okay?”
He nodded, but slowly, then he reached out and took my hand.
I led him past Devon and Kiaya and toward the living room like a parent would a small, sick child. The older man’s hand felt like a child’s in mine. Bony and frail, his skin rough and dry like he hadn’t been taking care of himself. When we made it into the other room where there was more light, the sight of him cemented the thought. His rumpled and dirty clothes hung on his thin frame and his hair was wild and longer than I’d ever seen it, hanging past his chin. His fingernails were caked with dirt, and strangely enough, there was some streaked on his face. I wasn’t sure why he was so filthy, but it was obvious not just by how he looked, but also by the faint scent of body odor clinging to him, that he hadn’t cleaned himself up in days. I doubted he’d eaten, either.
“Sit down,” I said, keeping my voice soothing.
Devon came to join us as Mr. Ito lowered himself onto the couch and I took a seat at his side, but Kiaya headed into the kitchen. She disappeared from sight, but I could hear cabinets open and close. I wasn’t surprised when she reappeared holding a bottle of water and a box of crackers.
“Rowan.” Mr. Ito repeated my name like he still couldn’t believe I was in front of him.
“I’m here.”
Kiaya reached us and passed the water and crackers to me, maybe afraid he wouldn’t respond well to a stranger right now. I couldn’t blame her. This man looked nothing like the carefree neighbor I’d come to know. Always smiling. Always jogging over when he saw my dad to discuss the landscaping or baseball since they’d both been huge Cincinnati Reds fans.
“When was the last time you had something to eat or drink?” I asked my neighbor.
He blinked then shook his head. “I do not know.”
“Why don’t you take a moment to drink this?” I held the bottle out. “Then we can talk a little.”
Then I would force him to eat something, because he needed it. Desperately.
Mr. Ito obediently gulped down some of the water, stopping after a few seconds to suck in a mouthful of air like the action had nearly knocked the wind out of him. He drank more, guzzling it so quickly the water dibbled from the sides of his mouth and dripped onto his shirt. When half of the bottle was gone, he finally stopped and lowered his hand, but he didn’t put the lid on. Didn’t move to put the bottle down. He didn’t even act like he remembered he had it.
“Did you see Akio?” he asked, his eyes filled with panic. “I wait for him to come home, but he has not.”
So, that was why he’d rushed down the stairs in a panic. He was waiting for his son.
/> Akio had been attending Miami University in Oxford, Ohio, which wasn’t that far from here. Only a little over an hour away. Classes had been canceled weeks ago, meaning he should have been back long before now.
Something must have happened to him.
My throat tightened, and I had to swallow around a lump before I said, “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
Mr. Ito nodded, but there was no optimism in his eyes, and I wasn’t sure what else to say. I couldn’t give him a false sense of hope, couldn’t make a promise I didn’t think would come true. It wouldn’t be right or fair. What was left to say, then? Nothing. So, I said the only thing I could think of.
“Why don’t you drink a little more water?”
Obediently, like a small child or a pet, he lifted the bottle to his lips and sucked more of the water down. While he drank, I shot a glance toward the others. Devon was standing off to the side, watching wordlessly, but Kiaya was sitting in the chair across from me. She frowned when our eyes met.
This time, Mr. Ito didn’t stop until the bottle was empty. He was gasping again, acting like he was having a difficult time remembering how to breathe. I took the bottle from him and set it on the table then patted his back. I didn’t know what else to do, and even this small gesture was insignificant in the face of everything he’d lost. Akio was gone and most likely wouldn’t be coming back, and since I hadn’t seen Mrs. Ito anywhere, I had a feeling she was as well.
Meaning I couldn’t let this poor, depressed man stay here by himself.
“Mr. Ito,” I began, choosing my words carefully. “I’m sorry to bring this up, but I have to. Is Mrs. Ito here?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he shook his head. “She died.”
All the air left my lungs in a painful burst. Not because of his words, because they weren’t a surprise. It was the utter despair in his eyes that knocked the wind out of me, because I recognized it. Had felt it when I got to my house and saw my mom. It was like someone ripping you in half and leaving you to bleed out. Like the weight of the world had fallen on your shoulders, and you and you alone were responsible for carrying it.
Devon shifted closer to us. “Is she in the house?”
Oh, God, I thought, please don’t let her be in the house.
Mr. Ito shook his head, and I almost let out a sigh of relief. “I buried her next to her favorite rose bush.”
He pointed to the window, and I shifted, straining so I could see into the back yard. From here, only a small portion of landscaped area was visible, but I could see the lump of freshly turned earth. It explained why he was so filthy, as well as the dirt caked under his nails.
“I’m sorry,” I said gently.
He nodded, his gaze on his wife’s grave, and said nothing.
I looked to the others, feeling helpless as to what to do or say, and it was clear, based on their expressions, that they didn’t have a clue either.
Once again, I felt unprepared for the role I’d been thrust into. I didn’t know how to comfort someone who’d lost everything, didn’t know the right words to say or what to do to make a person feel like there was some hope left in this world. Especially not when I was right there with him, still teetering on the edge of whether I felt like this life was worth fighting for.
In light of that, I did the only thing I could think to do. I took Mr. Ito’s hand, drawing his attention to me, and gave him a sympathetic smile. “My parents are gone, too,” I said, almost choking up. “But a few of us are at my house. We just got here two days ago, but we know we can’t stay. It isn’t safe. We’re going to figure out a better place to go. You should come with us. To my house now, and then wherever we end up.”
I could already imagine Miller’s response to us bringing this frail, defeated man back. Not that I cared.
“You want me to leave?” he said.
“You can’t stay here by yourself.”
“But Akio.” Mr. Ito looked from me to Kiaya to Devon. “He will come here. I know he will.”
My gut clenched at the fear and desperation in his eyes. “You can leave him a note. It will be okay.”
Mr. Ito blinked like he was thinking it through, but after a moment shook his head. “I cannot leave.”
I sighed.
I’d pretty much expected that answer, but it still upset me. How could I walk away and leave him to fend for himself? He was so frail already. He wouldn’t make it for much longer if he didn’t snap out of it.
“Mr. Ito,” I said, my voice pleading as I thought about my own father and what could have happened to him. Imagining him all alone, maybe trapped somewhere and hiding from the zombies. Slowly wasting away like this man. “Akio would want you to take care of yourself.”
He shook his head, more adamant this time, and some of the light seemed to come back into his eyes. “I cannot leave my son. I will not.”
I gnawed on my bottom lip as I looked from Devon to Kiaya, not sure what to do. It felt so horribly wrong to leave this man here, but it wasn’t like we could force him to come with us. Like it or not, he was still free to make his own decisions.
As if reading my mind, Kiaya shrugged to let me know she didn’t have any more ideas than I did.
“Okay,” I said, letting out a sigh. “But you have to promise to take better care of yourself, okay? What will Akio think if he comes back and sees you like this?”
I gave the older man a mockingly stern look, hoping it would balance out my bossy words. Again, more light seemed to seep into Mr. Ito, and he forced out a smile.
“You a good girl, Rowan,” he said, patting my leg the way my grandpa used to, which almost made me burst into tears.
“I just don’t want Akio to come back and find you like this and be mad at me.” I sniffed back my sobs as I eased a sleeve of crackers from the box and ripped them open then held them out to Mr. Ito. “Which means you need to eat these.”
The older man nodded as he took them, his smile sad but growing more sincere by the second.
Kiaya had moved to Devon’s side, and the two of them were talking quietly, their gazes on us. Even though I couldn’t hear more than a couple words, I knew they were discussing their next move. Devon wanted to hit up another house, and while it was the smart thing to do, I couldn’t leave Mr. Ito until I was sure he was going to be okay.
I patted his knee and stood. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
He nodded as he crunched on crackers, the crumbs falling to his lap and collecting on his filthy pants.
“What’s going on?” I asked the others when I’d joined them.
“I want to head to the next house,” Devon said.
“I can’t leave—”
“You don’t have to.” He looked past me to Mr. Ito, frowning. “He needs you right now, and I know that. But I want to get moving.” Devon turned his blue eyes back on me. “Kiaya and I can handle it.”
I didn’t like the idea of them going off by themselves, but I wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it either. Plus, he was right. We needed to get more supplies, and I had to be here for my neighbor.
“You’ll be careful?” I asked, pinning them both with a serious look.
“We’ll be careful,” he repeated.
Kiaya nodded in agreement. “Do you know who lives in the next house?”
I sighed, wishing I had better intel. “I don’t. The house sold a few months ago, and I never really paid attention to who moved in. Never asked my parents either. It didn’t seem important.”
“It’s okay,” Devon said. “We’ll be able to handle whatever comes our way.”
“Okay,” I replied, sighing yet again.
“We’ll be back,” Kiaya said, her tone firm.
I watched them slip out the back door before returning to Mr. Ito, forcing out a smile. He was still sitting on the couch, staring at me with the sleeve of crackers clutched in his hand. They were half gone, but he needed something with more substance. Then he needed to get cleaned up.
“I’m
going to check out your pantry and see what you have. I want to make sure you’re set, okay?”
The older man nodded, saying nothing, and I headed into the kitchen with a sigh.
4
I couldn’t stop staring at the clock on the wall, and each tick of the second hand seemed like a bang in the otherwise silent house. Kiaya and Devon had been gone for twenty-two minutes. Too long, or at least I thought so, anyway. I wasn’t positive since I hadn’t kept track of how long we’d been in the Mercers’ house, I just knew I wanted them back so I could know everything was okay.
Mr. Ito was clean—or as clean as he’d get, given the current circumstances—and wearing fresh clothes. I’d had to coax him to get him to do that much, but he’d complied. I wanted to help him, but I drew the line at changing him myself. Once he was cleaned up, we’d returned to the first floor, and I’d emptied his pantry and organized the food on the counter so it was clearly visible, hoping the sight would be enough to remind him to eat. Thankfully, someone had bought several gallons of water recently, which I’d found in the garage, so I’d put those out as well. There wasn’t much else I could do because he was adamant about staying behind, but at least I could walk away knowing I’d tried my best.
Now he sat on the couch, staring through the window into the back yard as he crunched on a handful of cashews I’d forced into his hand. I wasn’t even sure he was aware he was doing it, but God knew he needed the protein. He was skin and bones. Meanwhile, I paced the kitchen, waiting, looking into the back yard every two minutes in hopes that my friends were finally on the way. Five more minutes, and I would go looking for them. That was as long as I could stand.
The clock ticked; I walked. I looked out the window, my heart in my throat, then started pacing again while the ticks grew louder. Two minutes passed. Then three. I started tapping my foot on the floor, desperate for some noise in the otherwise silent house. Tap, tap, tap.
Far Series | Book 2 | Far From Safe Page 8
