by Kate L. Mary
Bill drove for about five minutes before stopping. It was far enough away from the shelter that we were safe dumping the bodies, but not too far that we had a long drive back in case we did run into trouble. Kellan, who liked to be able to keep an eye out, climbed into the truck and hauled the bodies out while Bill and I worked together on the ground, darkness descending a little more with each passing second. Insects came out in force, singing to one another, and the howl of a coyote sounded in the distance, but otherwise, the world was silent.
“Looks pretty deserted,” I said. “If he’s out there, he’s laying low.”
“Yeah.” Kellan tossed a body down and paused to look around. “He’s smart. He won’t show his hand until he’s sure he knows what he’s up against.”
Bill dragged the body away from the truck, grunting at the effort, and tossed it aside, where it landed on top of the others. “We’ll have to make sure we’re smarter.”
“That’s the plan,” Kellan mumbled, moving deeper into the truck so he could grab another body.
“While I have the two of you alone,” Bill began, and right away I knew what he was going to say, “I feel like I need to bring up the subject of my daughter and your friend, Blake.”
Kellan froze with a body hanging half off the tailgate. “What about them?”
Bill, to my surprise, chuckled. “Nothing major, just wanting some reassurance that he’s a good guy. Christine is an adult, and living the way we are, I imagine things can get pretty lonely. For a while I thought she and James might hit it off, but I’m pretty sure he’s gay.” Bill grabbed the body from Kellan and tossed it aside with a groan. “She seems to like your friend, though, and I’m happy for her. We all deserve to have the chance at a real life. If you tell me he’s a good guy, I’ll take your word for it and not worry too much. Although, she is my oldest child, so I can’t stop worrying completely.”
Kellan, reassured by Bill’s words, went back to lugging bodies from the truck.
“Blake is the best,” I said. “He and Emma were together for seven years, so you know he’s committed.”
“Huh,” Bill said thoughtfully. “Why’d they split up?”
“They fought a lot and decided that even though they loved each other, they weren’t good together. So, they’re just friends now.”
Kellan hopped down, pulling the final body with him, and dragged it off toward the others.
“And she’s with Cade,” Bill said to himself. “Couldn’t be an easy thing to watch. It’s to Blake’s credit that he stuck around.” He nodded a few times and, seeing that the back of the truck was now empty, slammed the tailgate shut. “Okay, then, I’m sold.”
I didn’t tell him that Blake had left for a while because I didn’t think it was important. He was a good guy, and once Bill got to know him, he’d see that for himself.
17
Bill and his people eased into our group over the next few days, and before long, the added noise no longer startled me and it began to feel like they’d always been here. The shock at discovering how much we had started to wear off as well and was soon replaced by gratitude at the newfound luxury of living in the shelter.
The extra people helped ease our workload. Even though we couldn’t go out to hunt or fish right now, once the danger passed and we were able to, Bill and Ernie, as well as a few others, would be here to help. In the meantime, there were plenty of jobs inside the shelter. Everyone ages eighteen and up took turns in the control room, and the sisters, Becky and Tracy, were learning how to make soap, while Jessica and some of the others took over the garden, and the kids spent their days in the movie theater, devouring a form of entertainment many of them had never had the chance to enjoy.
School was on the horizon. Jessica, it turned out, had been a third grade teacher before the apocalypse and she enthusiastically threw herself—with the help of Christine and Diane—into planning a curriculum. She’d taught the kids in the hangar, using books she’d managed to gather from the elementary school on base, but the existence of an actual classroom seemed to thrill her, and even the kids a little, much to my surprise.
A week went by with more and more zombies finding their way to our fence, and every day the same group of us had to go out to take care of them. Still, there was no sign of Andrew. Not while we were outside the fence killing the dead, and not when we drove away from the shelter to dump the bodies.
Two weeks passed and then three, and slowly the number of zombies finding their way to the fence began to ease. Why there had been so many in the area after all this time, we didn’t know, but with their numbers now dwindling, we relaxed a little more with each passing day, and I was able to convince myself it had been a fluke. Andrew was gone, either because he’d given up and moved on, or because he’d gotten himself killed trying to gather the dead at the Holy City. He wasn’t watching us, wasn’t waiting for his chance to pounce. I was sure of it.
By the time a month had gone by since our last encounter with Andrew, the bite on my arm had healed until it was nothing but an angry red scar. The location meant it would be more difficult to hide, but not impossible, and I was okay with it, because I was alive, and we were healing. And I had Kellan.
Another month passed, and our worries about Andrew dwindled even more, making it easier to take care of the few zombies that did find their way to the fence since we were no longer worried about who went out. We still hadn’t ventured farther than the fenced-in area on the surface yet, but that wasn’t far off. The kids had taken over caring for the animals, and the idea of going out to hunt or fish, or taking a trip into Altus, was becoming less scary, which was good. It wouldn’t be long before we’d need supplies, and we’d also promised Bill that we’d go back to the hangar so they could see what had survived the fire. The sooner things returned to normal, the better.
A routine formed that seemed easy and natural, with one major exception. Ernie. The more I got to know him, the more evident it became that he and not Bill had called most of the shots in the hangar, and there was something about Kellan that really rubbed the older man the wrong way. It wasn’t until the new people had been with us for more than eight weeks that we finally learned why.
To make the task of watching the surface a little more enjoyable, we took our shifts in groups of two now. It was late, and Kellan and I were in the control room together. I was on his lap, and we were kissing—between watching the monitors, of course—and we were so engrossed in one another that we didn’t hear Cade come into the room.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said from the doorway.
Kellan broke the kiss and yanked my shirt down even though only my lower back was exposed. Cade’s slightly amused expression couldn’t mask the worry in his eyes, and I slid off Kellan’s lap. Something was wrong.
“What’s up?” Kellan asked as he, too, got to his feet.
Cade blew out a long breath. “Ernie.”
Kellan shoved his hand through his hair, which of course didn’t obey him. “Talk.”
“He approached me a little bit ago, in the common room,” Cade began, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe. “Wanted to know why I was okay letting a kid call all the shots.”
Kellan’s smirk was a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “Kid?”
“Yeah.” Cade snorted to let us know how absurd he thought it was.
I ran my fingers through my hair, smoothing it down, and shook my head. “I knew he had a problem with you.”
Kellan’s gaze moved to the screens, and he gave them each a quick once-over before looking back at Cade. “He hasn’t really tried to hide it.”
I looked, too, but just like before, the surface was clear.
“I noticed,” Cade said. “But I think it may be more of an issue than we originally thought.”
I tore my focus from the monitors and found Cade frowning. The worry in his eyes bothered me. Not much shook him, but his conversation with Ernie clearly had. Great. Just when things were calming down and I
was starting to feel sure the danger had passed, we were going to have a problem with one of our own people.
“What kind of a problem?” Kellan asked.
“Ernie acted really mad about the whole thing. Resentful, even. And he made a big deal about how you were too young to be in charge, saying people like him and Bill had more life experience and would make better decisions.” Cade tapped his fingers on his bicep as he talked. “Apparently, he had a boss before the apocalypse that was younger than him, and it really rubbed him the wrong way. He said the ‘kid’ was an idiot who only got promoted because he knew the right people. He even implied that you must have been Jasper’s favorite, and that’s why you’re in charge now.”
“Well, of course I was Jasper’s favorite,” Kellan said, his serious expression easing just a little. “But that’s only because I’m smarter.”
Cade rolled his eyes, but the worry in them didn’t fade. “Which one of us was in medical school?”
“I was fifteen,” Kellan shot back.
“Forget that.” I waved my hand in the air. “Do you think he’s going to be a problem?”
Cade tapped his fingers harder as he thought it through. “It’s hard to say. On one hand, he didn’t tell me he was going to do anything about it, but I also think he was feeling me out. Trying to get an idea of how loyal I am.”
“He clearly doesn’t understand that we’re a family,” I muttered.
The idea of this asshole coming in here and trying to drive us apart was even more annoying than how pissed off he’d been when I helped him.
Cade gave a half shrug. “Obviously.”
“So what do we do about it?” I asked, looking between the two.
“Talk to him, or talk to Bill,” Kellan replied, focusing on Cade. “What do you think? Would Ernie listen to anything I have to say?”
“I think,” Cade began, “he would resent it.”
“You talk to Bill, then,” I said.
“I’ll talk to Bill,” Kellan agreed with a sigh. “I was really hoping Ernie would just get used to the change and let this go.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” Cade pushed himself off the wall and uncrossed his arms. “If I hear anything else, I’ll let you know, but for now I’m going to get some rest.”
“Night,” Kellan murmured.
“Goodnight,” I said.
Cade waved over his shoulder before stepping out of sight.
I turned to Kellan. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking Bill isn’t as much of a leader as we originally thought.”
“Ernie was calling most of the shots?”
“That’s the impression I’m getting now.” Kellan rubbed his eyes like the whole thing was making him tired—or giving him a headache. “It was Bill’s deal. He found most of the kids and brought them together, so he kept up the charade of being in charge, but I’m thinking he let Ernie make most of the big decisions.”
“That’s not how we do things here,” I said. “We work together.”
“And Ernie’s going to have to learn to do the same.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “Or?”
Kellan exhaled. “That’s a question for another time.”
It was nearly noon by the time Kellan and I left our condo the next day—we’d slept in since we had a late shift—but being underground made it impossible to feel like we’d overslept. During this time of the day, most people would be in the common area or deeper in the shelter, either tending to the gardens or working on other items, so the halls were quiet when we made our way up. That changed when we reached level two. Here, the lights were bright and the classroom doors wide open, and the chatter of children seemed almost loud in the small space.
Instead of continuing up, we paused at the door. Jessica, who’d been in the middle of teaching the kids a rhyme, saw us and smiled.
“Class is in session, I see,” Kellan said.
“In session and very active,” she replied, her face breaking out into an even wider smile. “There are some great resources here.”
“It’s nice to finally be able to use them,” I said.
She looked the kids over fondly. “You have no idea how grateful we are to be here. To feel this safe is like a miracle after all these years, and to say nothing about the comfort. We owe you a debt we can never repay.”
Instead of saying what I was thinking—that not everyone in her group necessarily felt that way—I said, “We’re more than happy to have you here.”
“But we’re going to leave you to your lessons.” Kellan took my hand and stepped back.
Jessica smiled in response, and before we’d even turned away, she was back to teaching. The kids’ voices followed us up the stairs as they mimicked the silly rhyme, making my own smile stretch wider. This would be the first of several groups of children to grow up here. I hoped so, anyway.
Just like I’d thought, the common room was bustling with activity. There was a big pot of something steaming and delicious smelling on the bar, with a pile of bowls and spoons beside it, and Becky and seventeen-year-old Thomas—who I’d come to suspect were a couple even though they hadn’t yet shared it with the group—were sitting next to each other on the couch, eating.
The television was on in the theater, and a gale of studio laughter floated from the room. From where we stood, I could see Lilith on the couch, smiling at the television, a shirt in one hand and a needle and thread in the other. Beside her sat a few other articles of clothing.
“How’s it going, Lilith?” I called to the old woman.
She paused in the middle of her sewing and smiled. “Just fixing some shirts that have seen better days.”
“We appreciate it,” Kellan said.
“I appreciate being useful.” Lilith nodded to the TV. “And it’s nice to have something to occupy my mind while I work. Makes the time go by faster.”
“I can imagine,” I said.
“I tell you what, though. I never was much of a TV person before all this started. Didn’t find much use for it.” Lilith looked down at the shirt in her hand and poked the needle through the fabric, pulling it out the other side with deft hands that seemed to defy her age. “But after all these years of silence, it’s nice having the noise. That’s something you don’t realize you’re going to miss until it’s gone.”
“You’re right about that,” Kellan agreed.
Lilith looked up at the TV again and smiled, but this time it was a little sad. “Of course, I guess that can be said of a lot of things we lost nine years ago.”
“Very true,” I murmured.
“Have you seen Bill, by any chance?” Kellan asked.
She looked our way, shaking her head. “Not this morning, sorry.”
“No problem.” He nodded to the TV. “Enjoy your show.”
We headed across the room, pausing next to the pot. Inside, vegetables floated in a creamy broth, along with a few bits of chicken. Not much—we had to be careful how often we killed the birds, and when we did, the meat had to be stretched out—but enough to give us some protein.
“Tracy and I made it this morning,” Becky called from the couch. “It’s Tommy’s favorite.”
Beside her, the boy smiled, and when their eyes met, I made a mental note to ask Jessica if someone had talked to Becky about being safe. We wanted more kids in the shelter, but that didn’t mean I was advocating teen pregnancy.
“Looks good,” Kellan said.
“Help yourself,” Becky replied, but she was still making googly eyes at Thomas.
“Maybe in a little bit,” I said. “Right now, though, we’re looking for Bill.”
“Haven’t seen him,” Thomas said.
Somehow, Becky managed to tear her eyes from the boy at her side so she could focus on us. “Maybe in the control room?”
“We’ll check,” Kellan said. “Thanks.”
We left the common room behind and headed upstairs, moving through the computer room to the industria
l hall. Here, our footsteps echoed off the cement walls and ceiling, bouncing back to us. At the end of the hall, the door to the holding cell was closed, as well as the door to the left where the small decontamination shower sat. To the right, though, the control room door stood wide open, and the faint sound of voices was audible even before we’d reached it.
“I’m just saying he’s pretty young to be making all the decisions.” I would have recognized Ernie’s voice even if he hadn’t been talking about Kellan.
“I didn’t think he was making all the rules,” another man said. “I got the impression it was more of a group thing.”
“That’s what he wants you to think,” Ernie replied.
“Son of a bitch,” Kellan muttered and slowed to a stop.
I stopped, too. “It’s not Bill. Do you want to keep going?”
“No.” Kellan roughly shoved his hand through his hair. “I don’t want to have to deal with this power play bullshit either.”
“Then put a stop to it. Go in there right now and tell Ernie to cut the bullshit out.”
“If I do that, I’m just proving him right. That this is some kind of dictatorship.” Kellan brushed his disobedient hair off his forehead and turned away from the room. “No. We stick with the original plan and find Bill. He knows Ernie better, and hopefully he’ll be able to talk some sense into him.”
We headed back down, through the common area, then lower. Jessica was still teaching when we passed the classroom, and she gave us a little wave as we went by, but the other levels were empty of people, and we didn’t see anyone else until we’d reached the hydrogarden. Through the open door, people were visible tending to the plants. Emma and Cade were laughing as they loaded a basket with leafy greens, and Diane was on her knees in front of a row of plump, red tomatoes, while beyond her Janet, Ellie, and a few others were also hard at work.
“It’s nice having so much help,” I said as we descended the final set of stairs.
Kellan gave my hand a squeeze. “Despite the problems with Ernie, I’m glad we met Bill. Glad we brought his people here.”
