Far Series | Book 2 | Far From Safe

by Mary, Kate L.

  “Cover your ears,” she said, not looking away from the zombie in front of her.

  My mother.

  I did as I was told, and on instinct, squeezed my eyes shut as well. This needed to happen, but I couldn’t bring myself to watch the bullet tear through her skull, couldn’t imagine seeing her drop to the ground.

  Breath held, I waited, counting. I’d only gotten to ten when a boom sounded. Even with my ears covered, it seemed to echo through my skull, and the scent of gunpower filled my nostrils, but I didn’t open my eyes as I waited for Kiaya to tell me it was done.

  “Shit,” she muttered. “Hang on.”

  Thuds followed as zombies threw themselves against the car, and Kiaya swore again. My hands were still over my ears, and my eyes were squeezed shut, and my heart was beating to a rhythm that could have been a fight song. I started counting again, this time making it to eight before another boom rattled the car.

  A second later, we started moving and Doug said, “Good job.”

  I dropped my hands but didn’t open my eyes.

  The window whined as Kiaya rolled it up. “Sorry. The first shot must have been a little too far to the right.”

  “No, you did a good job,” Doug replied, genuine admiration in his voice.

  I forced myself to open my eyes but didn’t look in the rearview mirror. It would be easier if I didn’t see her.

  Doug was driving slowly, leading the dead away. Once we had, we’d go back for her, but for the moment, I wanted to work on accepting that she was gone. Then I would psych myself up for seeing her body.

  “They’re following?” I asked.

  “They’re following,” he assured me.

  I only nodded.

  It seemed to take hours to reach the intersection, but once we did, he turned left, heading for a cul-de-sac.

  “When we go back,” he said, shooting a quick glance my way. “I’ll wrap her in a tarp and put her in the trunk. We always carry one. It’s come in handy a lot.”

  “Thank you,” I said, looking at him then back at Kiaya. “Both of you.”

  “I would never make you face something like this alone,” she said.

  I forced out a grateful smile.

  “You’re right,” Doug replied as he did a U-turn in the cul-de-sac. “She deserves a proper burial, and I’m glad to help. I always liked her, you know.”

  “My mom?”

  He grinned, shooting a quick glance my way. “Yeah. She was a nice lady. Always nice to me.” He snorted. “Not like Jessie’s mom. Almost three years together, and she still hated my guts. Treated me like I was an idiot most of the time.”

  “She’s the idiot,” I said. “Everyone likes you, Doug.”

  “Not everyone,” he said, looking at me again. Then he shook his head. “Honestly, I think she was just bitter. Jessie’s dad left her mom for his secretary, and I don’t think she ever got over it. She hated anyone with a dick.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just shook my head to let him know it had been her loss. Honestly, none of it really mattered now. She was dead. They probably all were. Jessie, her dad, the secretary who had broken up their family. All of them gone.

  Doug idled in the street for a few minutes, waiting until more of the horde had stumbled into the cul-de-sac, before hitting the gas and soaring past them. He took the turn faster than he should have, and the tires squealed, and on instinct I braced myself on the dashboard. I wasn’t sure if he was showing off or just trying to get back as fast as possible, but I had the urge to scold him, and it suddenly reminded me of something that had happened while we were dating.

  We’d been in his car, an old Jeep his parents had given him when he got his license, when a friend of his had pulled up beside us. They were teenage boys, so of course they’d started yelling back and forth, but then it had escalated, and they’d started revving their engines too. When the light had changed, they’d sped off, driving faster than they should have. Putting us and everyone around us in danger. I’d yelled at Doug, and he’d stopped after only a minute or so, but it had caused a pretty major fight. I’d completely forgotten about it until this moment. Odd that it would pop into my head now.

  I was still mulling over the strange memory when Doug slammed on the brakes, and I lurched forward. He threw the car into park at the same second the trunk popped, then he was shoving his door open.

  “Be right back. If those assholes get too close, get behind the wheel, and I’ll jump in the passenger seat, okay?”

  I nodded, but I doubted he saw it because he’d already taken off.

  “How you doing?” Kiaya asked.

  I was watching the dead in the sideview mirror, thankful my mom’s body was on the opposite side of the car so I didn’t have to see her.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I understand,” she said.

  I ventured a look her way, and she gave me a sympathetic smile.

  Something thumped in the back, and the car shifted, and a second later the trunk slammed shut. Doug came into view, looking over his shoulder at the advancing dead. The closest one was still two houses away, though, so we were in good shape when he jogged back to the open driver’s side door.

  “All good,” he said when he slid into the car next to me.

  He slammed the door, and a second later we were on our way.

  “I’m thinking I’ll back the car into the driveway. We left the garage door open, and it will only take a minute or two for me to get your mom out of the trunk. Then we can get the door shut and deal with what needs to happen next.” He glanced my way. “That sound okay?”

  None of this sounded okay, but it was necessary, so I nodded.

  “Good,” he said.

  He gave my knee a pat, leaving his hand resting there a little longer than necessary before moving it back to the steering wheel.

  We drove the rest of the way in silence, not talking when we reached my street or when Doug turned around in the cul-de-sac, or even when he backed into my driveway. Then he was climbing out, and so were Kiaya and I, and we were in the garage. It felt like I was moving on autopilot, or maybe this was how the dead felt. Like their actions were instinct only, their responses mindless as they roamed the world looking for their next snack.

  The thought made me shudder.

  In no time, Doug had my mom’s body out of the trunk and laid out on the floor of the garage, then he was pulling the door shut. In the distance, I caught sight of two zombies shuffling from between houses just before the door came down, plunging us into darkness. Kiaya was prepared, though, and in seconds a flashlight flipped on, illuminating the area.

  “Shovel?” Doug asked, huffing a little from the exertion.

  I nodded and headed to the other side of the garage, while Kiaya shifted the beam to help me see. Gardening tools hung from the wall in a line like they were waiting for me, the shovel included. My hand shook when I reached out, so I paused and took a deep breath in an attempt to get my emotions under control. Before I could do anything else, a hand reached around me and grabbed it.

  “I’ve got it,” Doug said from right behind me.

  I hadn’t even heard him approach.

  I turned to find him inches away, his face so close I could feel his breath against my cheek when he exhaled.

  “I’ve got this, Rowan. You don’t have to worry.”

  I could only nod.

  Kiaya and I followed as he headed for the door. We cut through the house to the back yard, and I squinted against the bright sun when we stepped out. It was high now, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but the chilly bite to the air seemed at odds with the bright day. As did the knowledge that we were about to put my mom to rest.

  Doug stopped in the middle of the yard and turned to face me. “Where do you want it?”

  “There.” I nodded toward the landscaped area in the corner of the yard. “In front of the flowers.”

  He nodded and headed that way.

  Kiaya and I
stood side by side as Doug started digging the hole. He slammed the head of the shovel into the ground, stomping on it a couple times until it was good and deep, then removed the dirt. I watched it happen in silence as he repeated the process over and over again, the hole getting bigger as the mountain of dirt grew higher. Soon he was in up to his knees, then his waist. He paused every now and then to wipe the sweat from his forehead but didn’t stop. Even when Kiaya slipped inside to get him a drink of water, he only paused long enough to gulp some down, his gaze on me the whole time.

  It wasn’t until the hole was up to his chest that he finally tossed the shovel aside and climbed out.

  “I know it’s supposed to be six feet,” he said as he ran his arm across his forehead, leaving a streak of dirt behind, “but this will have to do.”

  “I understand.” It was all I could think to say.

  Doug nodded and headed toward the house. “I’ll get her.”

  The door creaked a few seconds later, and I found myself sinking to the ground beside the hole, staring into it. It was probably only four feet long, meaning she’d be scrunched up, but like Doug had said, it would have to do. Plus, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t there, not anymore. She hadn’t been for days.

  Kiaya knelt at my side and gently placed her hand on my shoulder but said nothing.

  Moments passed before the door once again opened, and I watched as Doug headed our way. My mother was in his arms, still wrapped in the tarp, her bare feet hanging out of the end. They bobbed as Doug walked, and I found it impossible to look away or focus on anything else. All I could do was stare at the torn-up soles of her feet and wish she had socks on. Wish I didn’t have to see her gray skin or the cuts on her feet. Wish I didn’t have to think about her stumbling around like that for days.

  Doug knelt on the other side of the hole when he reached us, easing my mom onto the ground in front of him.

  “This is going to be the hard part,” he said, focusing on me. “I did this for my parents. I don’t think I told you that, but I did. They were already dead when I got home from school, lying side by side in their bed—” He paused, looking away from me. “I put them in one grave. It’s what they would have wanted, anyway. But this part, pushing them into the hole. It was the hardest part.” He took another deep breath, and when he lifted his gaze to mine once again, it seemed to take a lot of effort. “Do you want me to do it?”

  I wasn’t sure why he’d think that this of all things was the hardest part, because it seemed to me that dropping dirt into the hole and seeing my mom disappear would be, but I took his word for it and nodded.

  Doug repeated the gesture then inhaled deeply before rolling my mom’s body toward the hole. I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen when she finally fell in. I imagined a crack in the universe or some other event that would finish us off for good, because it didn’t make sense that the world should go on when I was hurting this much.

  I wasn’t right, but I wasn’t wrong either.

  Her body fell, hitting the ground, and the thud vibrated through me. I literally felt the impact. It was like a tsunami slamming into me, or a meteor. Like a volcano erupting inside my body, ripping me in two. The thud seemed louder than a boom of thunder, more devastating than the seven trumpets the Bible prophesized would announce the apocalypse. More horrible than watching the world slowly disappear.

  I nearly collapsed, barely catching myself before slumping to the ground completely. My body felt spent, exhausted both physically and emotionally, so I was shocked that I could stay up at all.

  Kiaya was at my side in a second, her arms around me. “It’s okay.”

  It wasn’t, but I couldn’t make myself talk to tell her that.

  Doug was already on his feet, the shovel in hand. “It will be over soon.”

  I managed a nod but didn’t look up at him. Instead, I focused on the hole, watching as he dropped shovelful after shovelful of dirt onto my mom’s body. The sound of it falling on the tarp reminded me of rain hitting plastic, but soon even it was out of sight, and all that was left were the soft thuds of dirt filling the hole.

  Doug had been right, and in what felt like a matter of moments he’d tossed the last little bit of dirt on the grave. The shovel fell to the ground, and he pulled the hem of his shirt up so he could wipe his face, revealing the chiseled abs I’d once been so familiar with.

  I looked up at him from where I sat on the ground. “Thank you.”

  He nodded, but like me, seemed not to know what else to say.

  “We should get going,” Kiaya said, standing.

  She still had hold of me, and I didn’t resist when she urged me to my feet. I did, however, refuse to move when she started walking.

  “I just need a minute,” I said, not looking away from the grave.

  She released me, and even though I didn’t see it, I imagined her nodding. “We’ll wait inside.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered.

  Footsteps told me both she and Doug were moving toward the house, and a moment later, the door creaked behind me.

  Once it was shut and I was alone, I took a deep breath. I hadn’t known before what I wanted to say, or even if I was going to say anything at all, but in that moment, the words flowed out on their own.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get here in time,” I said, sniffing and blinking as the tears began. “I tried. I really did. Not hard enough, I guess…

  “I hope you know how much you meant to me. How grateful I am to be your daughter. You asked me years ago if I ever wanted to look for my biological parents, and I told you no, but I never told you why. I don’t even know if I knew the reason at the time, but I do now. It’s because you were enough for me. I didn’t need to meet the woman who gave birth to me because I had you, and that was enough. You were the best mom anyone could have ever asked for. You pushed me, taught me right from wrong and how to be a good person, and you gave me everything I ever needed and more, but most of all, you loved me no matter what.

  “Sometimes I’m not sure if I can make it in this world, but then I think of you and realize I have to. For you. For Dad. For us. I have to make it through this so I can carry on your legacy of love and compassion and hard work, because I have a feeling it’s something we’re going to need down the road.” I paused and swiped the tears from my cheeks as I considered what I else I should say. All I could think about was the note she’d left me, so I said, “I just wanted you to know how much being your daughter has meant to me. I’ll never forget you, Mom. I love you.”

  I turned away as soon as the last word was out, feeling slightly broken, but stronger. The pain when I thought about her wouldn’t ever go away, but doing this would help me heal. It was the closure I needed, and I was glad it was done.

  I expected to see Kiaya waiting just inside the door when I opened it, but Doug was the one who greeted me.

  “You okay?”

  “I will be,” I said, and for the first time, I truly meant it.

  His hand was balled into a fist when he raised it, and when he opened it, I had to blink twice, certain I was seeing things. I wasn’t, though. He had my mom’s wedding rings.

  “I thought you might want these.”

  “I do,” I said, taking them gently as if they were as fragile as a withered leaf. “Thank you.”

  He nodded twice, acting like he wasn’t sure what to say, then he pulled me in for a hug. Being in his strong arms was familiar and more comforting than I would have thought it could be. I returned the hug, wrapping my arms around him and closing my eyes, my head against his chest. He smelled faintly of sweat, with an underlying scent of dirt and even decay, but having him to lean on right now was more than welcome.

  Kiaya cleared her throat, and I broke the hug, stepping back. She stood in the doorway on the other side of the room, watching us with nonjudgmental but tired eyes.

  “I hate to rush you, but I’m sure the others are wondering if we’re okay.”

  She was right.
/>   “Yeah.” I let out a long breath. “We should go.”

  I had the rings clutched in my hand as I followed the others from my house, the metal cool against my skin and feeling heavier than they should have. The fact that Doug had thought to take them had softened him even more in my eyes, and as I stepped out of the house, I felt like I was able to leave the bitterness I’d been carrying with me for the last three years behind. Finally. It was more of a relief than I could have imagined.

  13

  A heavy silence hung over us as we drove to the school, and when we reached it, Doug stopped a car’s length away from the crude barrier that had been erected to keep the dead out. I was twisting my mom’s wedding rings on my finger when I leaned forward to get a better look, and I didn’t even have a chance to open my mouth to ask what we were doing before someone on the other side had jogged over. I hadn’t noticed it when we drove by the day before or when Devon and I were hiding in the trees, but there was a makeshift gate in the barricade of cars, which two guys worked to open. It looked heavy and was clearly only a temporary solution—made of a few sheets of wood and held together by two by fours and nails—but it allowed cars to drive through. Which Doug did, pulling into a space in the small parking lot encompassed by the wall of cars while behind us, the two men rushed to get the gate shut once again.

  “Welcome to Concord!” Doug said with flourish once he’d put the car in park.

  He sounded like the old man in Jurassic Park when he’d led the archeologists and Jeff Goldblum into his park of doom.

  “Do you guys have plans to make that wall a little more secure?” Kiaya asked.

  Doug’s eyebrows jumped like they’d been launched from a slingshot. “I can’t see that it’s necessary. The zombies can’t get over those cars.”

  “But people could,” she replied, her voice as level as always even though I could read between the lines and knew she was calling him a moron.