Rain Must Fall

by Deb Rotuno

  I started to turn around, but my dad grabbed my wrist gently and turned me to face him. “You haven’t heard a word since…”

  “Dad, no one has heard anything…anywhere. But he knew something was fishy. He knew. He said his gut told him something was about to go down, and he was right. He said if it did, then we were to get out, get away from people. He knew it the day the hurricane hit Florida.”

  Dad nodded, scrubbing his face with a shaky hand, only to pull his cap off again to rub his short, gray hair. “Sara, he’s all the way across the country. You can’t possibly think—”

  “Please.” It was all I had. It was all I could beg from him. “Please, don’t. I need to hold on to this…for now. I have to…for my sanity, for my son. I need to trust Jack on this, if only to get us someplace safe. He made me swear, Daddy. I can’t break that promise.”

  The tears that burned my eyes welled up and spilled over, and I found myself wrapped up in my father’s arms.

  “Well, he wasn’t wrong, Sara. In fact, it’s the smartest plan,” Dad admitted against my forehead. Cupping my face, he pulled me back so he could look me in the eyes. “Portland is…” He sighed deeply, shaking his head. “Portland’s on fire, sweetheart. Whatever security the military was providing is no longer functioning. The streets are a war zone, between survivors fighting for supplies and food and those…those things hunting down the survivors. All power, communication, and highways in and out of the city are completely shut down. It won’t be long before people and the infected start making their way out of the damn city and into the country.”

  Things. No one wanted to call them what they were. They’d been given every other name in the book but what they truly were: the undead, biters, the infected, monsters. Unfortunately, they were people we knew, people we’d grown up with, people we’d laughed with, dated, loved. They were friends, family, neighbors, and coworkers. But they’d changed. They’d died, but they’d come back as something from a nightmare, from a horror movie. They were now…zombies. It had all happened so damn fast that some days, it didn’t even seem real.

  “Then leaving is imperative, Dad. Please, come with us,” I begged him, gripping his SFD shirt.

  He looked pained at the request but kissed my forehead again. “I can’t. Not yet.” When I started to argue, he bent his knees so we were eye to eye. “I’m responsible for these people, Sara. You know that. I have to make sure every last one is either moving on, dead—really, dead—or safe enough to leave behind. Shit, kiddo, I’ve got the old folks’ home still completely filled to capacity. I can’t just leave them.”

  I nodded, hating that he felt he had to stay, but growing up with my father as Sandy’s fire captain helped me understand. The people of Sandy loved him, depended on him.

  Nodding again, I kissed his cheek.

  “You won’t be alone, Sara,” he told me. “And I need to ask a favor of you.”

  My brow wrinkled in curiosity. “What favor?”

  “I need you to take some people with you. There are plenty of cabins up there. You’ll need the safety in numbers for the trip, and you’ll help me by getting a few more people out of this town.”

  “Who?”

  “Millie and Josh Larson…and…Brody and Leo Matthews.”

  I groaned, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands. “A middle-aged woman, a kid, an asshole, and a man in a wheelchair. Jesus, Dad, are you trying to get us killed?”

  I heard a familiar chuckle behind me, and when I turned toward the sound, I smirked at the laid-back form that was leaning against my father’s truck.

  “Aw, now Sara…You and I both know you’re not counting the positives. Millie’s a damn good cook, and Josh is pretty quick on his feet. Leo’s a helluva damn shot with a rifle in his hand, but yeah, Brody’s an asshole. There’s no getting around that one,” Derek drawled, pushing off the truck and walking to me. When I chuckled, his easy grin curled the corners of his mouth. “Besides, you’re not the only one who made Jack a promise,” he added, raising an eyebrow at me. “My cousin made me swear on a stack of Bibles, my mother’s grave, and my own soul that I’d keep you and Freddie safe. I plan to keep that promise.”

  “He’s coming,” I vowed weakly.

  “If I was a betting man, then my money would be on Jack,” my dad stated with a nod. “Believe me, I want that to be true. I can’t fathom what would happen—”

  “Hank,” Derek warned, shooting my dad a sharp glare, but his hazel eyes were softer when they looked back to me. “Anyway, I’m going with you, which means we need to leave at first light tomorrow. Can you be packed up by then?”

  Nodding, I said, “I was planning on it.”

  “Good, then we’ll start with the supplies Hank brought you.” He pointed toward the tarp-covered truck bed. “You go get what you need out of the house. We’ll pull out first thing in the morning,” he stated, shoving his hands in his pockets. “And Sara, be prepared for a long ride…and an even longer camping stay at the cabin. It won’t be a smooth journey. The highway will be a cemetery, and I’m hearing rumors that those rotting bastards are traveling in packs now, so…we’ll have to be armed and move carefully and quickly.”

  Swallowing thickly at the mere thought of it, I nodded. “Thanks, D.”

  “He’d do it for me,” he muttered before walking to my dad’s truck to start unloading and organizing. I caught sight of gas cans, bags of charcoal, bottles of water, and several boxes.

  Turning back to my dad, I tried one more time. “Please, come with us.”

  “I’ll meet you there. Give me time, Sara, and I’ll be right behind you. Now…let’s get you loaded and the house packed up.”

  Eastbound, OR-126

  The rumble of Derek’s Jeep engine slowed, and he tossed a signal over his shoulder for us to pull over. The sound of rocks and gravel popping underneath the large tires of Jack’s truck was reminiscent of the sound of bones breaking. They sounded almost identical, except maybe drier.

  What normally would have been a little less than three hours’ drive had taken us almost two full days, and we weren’t anywhere near close to the turn-off we needed. The 126 was just like Derek had predicted. It had been a graveyard—sometimes a quiet one, and sometimes a threatening one. We’d had a close call or two, but glancing into my side-view mirror, I could see we were all hanging in there.

  I shut off the engine to save gas and watched as Derek scouted ahead. There were woods and trees all around us, but all seemed still. Up ahead, as far as I could see to the bend in the highway, were stopped cars, trucks, and RVs.

  Turning to Freddie, who’d been pretty quiet since our last stop, I nudged his shoulder. “Hanging in there?”

  He nodded, reaching up to push his hair off his forehead, but his brow was furrowed and his mouth was in a tight line when he turned to face me. “I could help, you know,” he stated, practically glaring my way with eyes so familiar they made my heart hurt.

  I wanted to laugh at his temper, but I couldn’t. The thought of my baby with a gun in his hand scared the living shit out of me. But this was a new world—a dangerous one at that—which made my head shake back and forth slowly.

  “Grandpa Hank said I needed to learn. Even Derek says so. And Dad said—”

  “Frederick Jackson Chambers!” I snapped, my eyes closing for a moment. I took a deep breath and let it out. “I know your dad said he’d teach you to hunt when he got back.” Cupping his face, I tilted my head at him. “Gimme a break, kid. I know this isn’t easy. I know you want to help. You’re strong and brave like your daddy, but let me think about it, okay?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  Squishing his face to shut him up, I said, “I’m not saying no, Freddie. I’m merely asking for time to think about it. If I say yes—and I mean if—then I want to do it in a controlled environment at the cabin. Not out here in the middle of nowhere, where something could go crazy. Got me?” I asked, releasing my hand from his face and running my fingers through his ha
ir.

  He smirked at me, but at least he didn’t roll his eyes. “’Kay.”

  When he sulked, facing out the passenger window, I nudged him again. “Hey,” I whispered, leaning my head to the side so that it was resting against the headrest. “You do help, Freddie. You’ve got sharp eyes, and you…”

  Movement off the side of the road caught my eye, and my nostrils flared.

  “There’s more than one,” Freddie whispered, tapping the window lightly. “I see…four, maybe five?”

  “Okay. Don’t move, and stay quiet,” I ordered him, grabbing for my gun on the dashboard. I waited until he nodded before reaching for the door. Silently, I slipped down out of the truck, barely making a sound when the door clicked closed.

  Behind me was an extra car that hadn’t been in the original plan. By the time Derek had pulled up to my house two mornings ago, there’d been an extra vehicle in the caravan. A middle-aged couple, Martin and Carol North, were driving the older truck with a topper on the back. Behind them was Millie and Josh’s RV. It was older, but it was tall enough we could use it as a lookout spot. The last vehicle was Brody Matthews’ truck.

  Dodging between Brody’s truck and the back of the RV, I climbed up the ladder to the top of the RV, finding Josh already there with binoculars in hand.

  “Seven, Sara,” he whispered, giving me the binoculars to see for myself. “Seven, and if we shoot one, we’ll draw them all here.”

  “I know,” I whispered back, “but if we stay here much longer, they’ll smell us. Luckily, for the moment, we’re downwind.”

  Josh groaned but nodded. He was a sharp kid. He was pushing fifteen, with long hair and a happy smile. He was the only child Millie still had living at home, and he watched over her like a hawk. Just like the rest of us, they’d lost contact with the rest of their family. He had two older sisters away at college, and no one had heard from them.

  Josh was also wicked fast on his feet. He was good at scouting out supplies we might need in some of the traffic jams we’d driven through. And having grown up in Estacada, just outside of Sandy, he’d learned to hunt, so he wasn’t half bad with a gun in his hand.

  I could hear Derek’s Jeep coming closer, and I sighed, looking back at Josh. “We’re not going to have a choice. His engine will draw them in, and I have a feeling we’re gonna stop for the night.”

  “Damn it,” he groaned, setting the binoculars down and reaching for his rifle. “You want up here? I can take Brody with me on the ground.”

  Shaking my head, I waved him away and made my way to the ladder. “I’ll take the ground. Just watch my back,” I said on the way down, finally dropping to the asphalt.

  Pulling my gun from the waistband of my jeans, I waved Brody out of his truck.

  “How many?”

  “About seven…give or take.”

  We stepped to the shoulder of the road, about the time one of the creatures stepped out of the woods. I grimaced at it, noting its slow gait. One arm was hanging misshapen by its side, while the other hand opened and closed stretched out in front of it. Its jaw was askew, and the flesh was now a purplish-black.

  “Fuck me, they stink,” Brody muttered, shaking his head and raising his shotgun to his shoulder to aim.

  I could still hear Derek’s Jeep coming, but this would most likely be over before he arrived. I raised my gun and aimed, popping off the first round.

  There were a few things that drew the zombies in: loud noise, the scent of humans, and movement. Despite their corpse-like state, their senses were still sharp, if not sharper than when they were human. They never tired, never wore out, but kept going until they found a food source. Nighttime made them much more active and feral, but the rain made all of those things a thousand times worse. Something about the rain enhanced every smell, every noise, and every movement. The night Sandy fell, the rain never let up.

  My shot took down the first one, which caused the rest of his small pack to turn our way. Five more emerged from the woods almost at the same time, and Brody popped off three rounds, while I took the other two.

  “We got more!” Josh cried out, his rifle sounding off above our heads as what looked like ten more stepped from the trees.

  I took the left, and Brody took the right, clearing most of them before they could even set foot out of the shade of the pines. The pack was way bigger than we’d estimated, and they kept coming, one right after the other. I heard a vehicle door open and close, and Martin joined us with his own weapon. As fast as we could take them out, the quicker they’d spill out of the trees.

  Derek’s tires squealed to a stop, the engine cutting off completely at the same time I heard Freddie’s cry.

  “Mom! Behind you!”

  Swinging around, I fired my last two bullets in my clip at the two closest to me, but there was another coming. I reached for another clip as fast as I could, but as soon as I aimed, an arrow flew by my head, lodging right in the middle of the forehead of what looked like an old woman. I let out a breath, giving a quick nod to Derek, who was reloading his compound bow as he stayed standing in the topless Jeep. He’d used that bow for hunting deer at one point, and now it was used for defense. He lifted it quickly, nailing two more at the same time—one right behind the other—essentially skewering them through the middle of their heads.

  “I leave you for ten minutes!” he teased above the din of gunfire, jumping down to the ground.

  Shaking my head, I smirked but took out the last straggler near me. “Yeah, well, you know what Jack always said…”

  Derek’s laugh was low and easy. “Yeah, that you were trouble from the get-go.”

  Grinning, I nodded, ignoring the pain in my chest from missing my husband as I scanned the woods for movement. Derek’s arrow flew silently into the shade of the trees, and a body thumped down to the ground.

  “Clear!” Josh called out.

  Derek walked past me, taking his spent arrows back. He couldn’t afford to leave any behind; he only had so many, though I was pretty sure he had plans to make more once we got to the cabin.

  “We’ll stay here tonight,” he said, gesturing around us, only to point up the highway. “We’ve got a long day ahead tomorrow, and there’s no rerouting. We’ve got no choice but to push and tow cars out of the way. We’ll use Jack’s truck and Martin’s to do it. Plus, there may be some fuel to siphon.”

  “All right,” I sighed, suddenly very tired, but my temper rose to the surface when I heard Brody’s usual complaints.

  “Who the hell put you in charge?”

  I rounded on him. “My father, Brody. If you don’t like it, feel free to turn back and go ask him about it. I have no problem continuing on without you.”

  “So sweet, ice princess,” he drawled, grinning my way. “You’d leave me with my handicapped father—”

  “Oh, no…no, no, no. Leo is more than welcome to come with us, but you?” I said with a grin, pointing a finger in his chest. “You, on the other hand, not so much.”

  “You need to let the past go, Sara,” he sneered, shaking his head.

  I laughed, turning away from him. “You’re the one who picked a drunken fight with a combat soldier, so don’t cry to me about it.”

  Brody’s hand landed on my shoulder, and I spun around to face him, waiting for the old, misguided argument. “He was touching my girlfriend.”

  “Oh, Brody…I wasn’t your girlfriend. You’d made sure of that the moment you cheated on me. And this is almost ten years later. I married the man who so skillfully handed you your ass on a silver platter. If you can’t deal with me—or Derek—then go back. Otherwise, shut your mouth and try to find a way to be helpful. This isn’t about the past; it’s about right fucking now. I know it goes against your nature to not look out for number one, but give us all a break.”

  He started forward, but his father stopped him.

  “Brody, if she shoots you, I wouldn’t blame her. Now get over here and help me out of this godforsaken truck!” Leo orde
red, and Brody’s sneer twitched a little before he walked to his father. “She’s doing us the favor, son, so keep your mouth closed.”

  I walked to Derek, who was smiling crookedly as he cleaned his arrows. “Want me to mistake him for a biter? I can shoot him in the middle of the night. No one would suspect a thing…”

  Chuckling, I shook my head. “No, let’s just set up camp here for the night. I’ll take first watch on the RV once we’ve eaten.”

  Derek looked like he wanted to say something, but he merely nodded, smiling, and ruffled my hair. “By the way, Jack would’ve already shot his ass.”

  Snorting into a laugh, I nodded. “Don’t I know it.” My laugh trailed off, and I locked eyes with my husband’s cousin. “God, I miss him.”

  Derek nodded solemnly. “Yeah, me too. Me too.”

  Mount Hood National Forest

  Four days and twelve hours. That’s what it took to travel a little over a hundred and fifty miles. We’d run into three packs of zombies moving down the highway, more car accidents than I could count, one set of dangerous-looking men traveling south—they’d moved on quickly once they’d caught sight of our weapons—and we’d acquired two extra mouths to feed.

  I glanced into the rearview mirror at the two sleeping forms in the backseat of Jack’s crew-cab truck. The mother and daughter were exhausted. They’d been trapped in their camper in the last pile-up we’d had to navigate on the 26, for what I’d assumed was several days. They’d been down to their last bit of food and ammo when we’d stumbled upon them and a pack of zombies moving through.

  Tina Chase, who looked to be somewhere around my age of twenty-nine—maybe a little older—and her daughter, Janie, who was eleven, had no place else to go. Tina’s husband, Jerry, had turned. In fact, it had been his changed form trying to rip through their camper door when we’d pulled up. Derek had put a knife through his head.

  “Mom, where are we?” Freddie asked softly.

  “NF-770,” I told him, tapping the map in his hand with one hand while steering with the other. “We’re smack-dab in the middle of the Mount Hood National Forest.”