by Tara Brown
Finally Erin sighs, clearly annoyed. “Okay, look, I drove across the friggin’ country too. I don't need this lecture. We have survived this long, ass. We don't need to be coddled and lectured. We did what we had to, to stay alive. End of file.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Who the hell are you?”
Erin stands, looking him right in the eye. “Someone old enough to not need a lecture from a bratty older brother.”
He leans in too, so close to her face he could kiss her if he just puckered slightly but doesn't. Instead, he mutters savagely, “Only a foolish person doesn't admit when they need help.”
She laughs, right in his mouth. “Takes one to know one.”
He steps back, running a hand over his head as if he’s frustrated with her. The glow of the candlelight almost loses the red in his dark hair. His skin is ruddy and tanned and his eyes are dark blue. He and Jamie look similar but their skin is the big difference. She’s always been pale and her red hair is much brighter.
He gives me a look. “You know what I mean, right, Stoddard?” He hardly ever calls me by my name. I hate it.
I shake my head, annoyed at the way his stare darts at Erin, no doubt obsessed with how hot she is. “We’ve made it this long without being told what to do.”
His jaw drops. “Damn, I figured you were my best bet. You always agree with me on everything.”
Jamie snorts, giving Sasha a knowing look. My face burns but I don't back down. “We need to get to the coast.”
Miles points a finger at Erin. “She blew Danny Hillman’s head off right in front of everyone and you’re going to trust her advice?”
Jamie and Sasha both look down. They know why Erin blew his head off and Miles doesn't. His friend clues in pretty quickly. “Dude, we don't know what’s been going on here, okay? She might have had a good reason.” He gives Erin a wink, but she pulls her hand from her pocket like she found her middle finger in there for him.
Kyle responds by lifting his hands in the air innocently.
Jamie opens her mouth but nothing comes out. She pauses and looks at Erin. “We go to the coast. The base is our best bet.”
Miles sighs. “This cabin is a great hiding place. The snow is coming. We don't know what this all is. We just know the biters need to bite. It’s the only thing they need to do. They die the moment they bite down. That means they need to spread this.”
We all glance up at him, looking exactly the same—confused.
He rolls his eyes, gripping to his short hair. “Don't tell me you never noticed they don't survive after they bite down? That's their only mission. They get bit, they change, they jerk alive with noise like a robot, and then they bite which results in their death. Until they bite they can’t be freed. Gunshots only work when they hit the head. They don't feel pain. They are like little machines.”
He’s right.
Erin nods, giving Lee a look. “Yeah, we noticed that too. I don't see the point though.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “This is a man-made plague. The fog and mist in Europe were man-made and this plague is too. If the government isn’t trying to stop it, we might have to consider maybe they made it.” His dark-blue eyes seek mine out. “What did your dad say?”
I gulp. “He said they didn't know what it was.”
He shrugs but his face screams disbelief. My attraction to him is fading rapidly.
“The coast will have answers.”
He looks at Erin, shaking his head. “We’ll wait here for you to come back and tell us how wrong you were.”
My stomach drops. He doesn't plan on coming with us? So much for the brave and amazing Miles. He points at the ceiling. “The little girls can stay here with us.” He looks at Jamie with daggers in his eyes. “And you are staying.”
She opens her mouth but closes it in defiance.
Lee grabs my hand. “One day of driving to get there, we find out if it’s real, and I’ll come back with you to get the girls. We’ll be three days at the most.”
I shake my head. “I don't want to leave my sister.”
Miles’ lips part but it’s Kyle who speaks first, “Miles will protect them with his life but taking them out there is a type of cruelty. You shouldn't leave here, but if you do, they should stay. They’re what—ten you said? No, that's evil. I’ll come with you and keep you safe, but they don't need to see that, and trust me, no one is getting in this cabi—” His words are cut off, interrupted by a knock at the cabin door.
My head jerks to the door. Miles looks at me, confused. “Does anyone know you’re here?”
“My da—” I shake my head. “The neighbor. You remember Mr. Milson?” My dad doesn't know. He never got the note.
Miles walks to the door, holding his gun to the side and opening the door slowly. He nods. “Mr. Milson, how’s it going?”
“Miles, what in the bloody hell are you doing here?” Mr. Milson pokes his head in. “You okay?” his eyes search me out.
“Yup.”
“Excellent.” He looks around the room and nods. “So I see you’ve been multiplying.” His joke is weird, like his tone.
Erin smiles, holding a hand out. “Erin March. This is my sister, Lee. The rest I assume you know.” He shakes her hand, smiling helplessly at the pretty girl.
“Lovely to meet you.” The sparkle returns to his eyes for a half a second but then the weird look on his face returns.
I grin at Lee, remembering how he acted around her. She rolls her eyes at me. I assume the response is one she is accustomed to. Everyone must trip over themselves when they meet Erin.
“Where are the littles?” Mr. Milson’s eyes lift to the loft rooms.
“Sleeping.”
He gives me a grin. “You went into town? Did you get more food or just more mouths to feed? We don't have enough for winter as it is.”
My brow furrows but Miles defends me. “It wasn't her fault. She went to find my sister at the exact same time I did.” He doesn't mention the tank because Erin and I have kept that mission under wraps. We may still go for it.
Mr. Milson sighs. “Well, you’ll have to go tomorrow and get more food.”
I nod at Erin and Lee. “We’re going to do that. Erin wants to make certain we’ve got all the antibiotics too.”
He seems to be okay with that plan but the lost look returns to his eyes. The one that tells me he’s still rolling with the ‘kill or be killed’ mentality. So I ask, “Where’s Mrs. Milson?”
He cracks—it’s instant. He looks so hard and determined, but the moment I say her name, he loses it. He drops to his knees in the entryway and sobs. He holds himself, shaking and bawling. Instantly, I’m up. I don't even care if he killed her in a fit of madness. I hold him.
Warmth surrounds me as Miles hugs me and Mr. Milson, who shakes us both. He cries for several moments before he sniffles and wipes his eyes. “I’m sorry, kids. I just don’t know what to say.” His trembling words break my heart, but there is still a fear inside of me that he has murdered her.
Finally, he sits back, but Miles doesn't remove his arms from wrapping around me. Mr. Milson gives me a teary look. “She just couldn't take it.” He stammers again, “She didn't want to live in this w-w-world. She left me h-h-h-here alone.”
The brave man who killed someone over canned goods is gone, and in his stead is a blubbering mess of a broken man.
“I don't have it in me to do the same. I came over to see if maybe you would g-g-g-give m-m-me a hand with it.” He shakes but I can barely see it through the tears flooding my eyes.
I wrap around him again, holding him tighter than I should. Miles comes with me, holding us both. Sobs fill the room. I whisper in his ear, “I c-c-can’t do that. We can’t. You're not alone. We’re here with you.” Furgus stalks down the stairs, licking us both and resting his huge head on our shoulders.
Mr. Milson nods into me. He pauses his sobbing to grip to me. “You have to get out of here. Find a safe place, Lou. Somewhere where the girls will be safe. Teen
agers have taken over the Campbell’s cabin and the one the city folk own but never use. You have to leave. The anarchy is going to start and it’s kill or be killed. Take or starve. Steal or die. You must see that?”
Miles leans in, whispering to him and making me feel like an intruder in their sudden conversation. “I will take care of them.”
Mr. Milson’s gaze lifts to mine and he smiles softly and nods. “Now, if it’s not too much to ask, Miles, I would very much like to join my wife.”
I am about to protest when Miles stands, lifting me with him and holding me still awkwardly. “Of course, sir.” His tone is hollow, so hollow I swear I hear an echo. “We’ll go to your cabin.”
He stands, nodding and waving at everyone else in the room. “I’m sorry I brought my troubles over here.” He hugs me once more, whispering into my ears, “You are the bravest girl I have ever known. I’m sorry I can’t be here for you.” He backs up and turns away, leaving me standing there, shaking. Miles walks from the cabin with him, not looking back at us. Kyle wraps an arm around me, squeezing once and leaving to follow Miles.
I have never been so cold in all my life.
Erin encircles me with a thin arm around my shoulders, holding me but not speaking. There is nothing to say in a moment like this one. We all wait in terrified silence, moving only when we jump as the noise from the gunshot blasts across the mountain. Silent tears stream my cheeks. Jamie and Sasha join the huddle, all of us holding to each other, gripping even.
We stand there in the glow of the fire for quite some time. Finally, Furgus lifts his face from the fireplace, furrowing his old-man eyebrows and growling. He saunters over to the door, sniffing it and jumping back when it opens. Mr. Milson comes in, carrying a box of food. I leap into his arms, making him topple the box of cans, sending them everywhere. He closes his eyes and sighs. “I think that maybe God wants me to stay alive for you girls. I think that maybe you might need me before all this is over. I’m so sorry I faulted in my resolve and responsibility. I failed you and Joey.”
And there it is, the reason I hate myself for ever doubting him.
“I’m a coward. I don't like killing and hurting. I don't like the person I have become—a side of myself I haven’t seen in a long time. A person I swore I would never be again.”
I shake my head against his chest. “You aren’t a coward. You didn't fail us. You saved me.”
Miles and Kyle walk to the door carrying the boxes. Kyle keeps looking behind him. His dark-brown hair and wide smile remind me of a friend of my dad’s, but the green eyes are not the same. He’s more handsome than my dad’s friend. He scowls. “Those kids at that cabin are having a party. They have their generator going. Bunch of idiots.”
Miles sighs his response, “And when they get hungry they’re going to be a problem.”
I let go of Mr. Milson and pick up the cans with him. When Miles goes out the door for more stuff from the other cabin I jump up and follow him out. “What happened? What was that shot?”
He doesn't look back at me when he talks, “I couldn't do it. I couldn't hold the gun on him, and when we were walking back to the house and he was trying to convince me, I went and I tripped. The gun went flying and spent the only bullet in his gun, so he took it as a sign from God. Damned lucky too—I couldn't do it.” His broad shoulders slump a bit when he looks back. “He’s a stronger man than I am. He buried her this morning after he found her dead in bed. She overdosed on sleeping pills and vodka.”
“Why didn't he come get us to help him?” I hurry to catch up.
“He said he didn't want you guys to worry, and he didn't want to tell the little girls. He said they loved her.”
“They did. They loved her.” I have to nearly jog to keep pace with his long strides. His legs are nearly twice the length of mine, with me being five foot five and him being six foot two. I always liked the size of him. Even when we were kids, he was huge.
He saved me when I was in grade three. I had wandered over to the big-kid playground to go on the slide that was legendary for being too tall and too dangerous for an elementary school. Just as I got to the top, a grade seven boy tried to push me off the slide. I was hanging off the side, gripping to the railing as the boy laughed and pried my fingers loose. I choked on my screams as tears flooded my eyes and mouth. A flash of color whipped past my eyes and suddenly a hand was lifting me back up onto the slide. It was Miles holding me and stroking my hair and telling me I was okay. He helped me down the slide, but he didn't come down the same way I did. He went down the stairs, jumping halfway and shoving the older boy. When the kid took a swing at him, Miles kicked his ass. The kids on the playground were chanting Red Giant as he did it. He was my hero from then on.
Everyone called him the Red Giant for years after that, until all the other boys caught up, hovering around the six-foot mark. And as he got older his red hair darkened, becoming more of a dark auburn. He stopped being so red and so giant, but I never stopped liking him.
The memory brings a smile to my lips.
“Well, you’ll have to tell them tomorrow that she got sick and she passed in her sleep, peacefully. Joey is kind of a softie.” I realize he’s been talking this entire time. “You know?” he says as he looks back at the cabin. “All you kids are so young to be dealing with this.”
I look up at him, wishing he could see me as anything other than a little sister.
Footsteps behind us make us both turn around to see Lee running after us in the dark. “We need to leave tonight, if we’re gonna make it to the coast and back before anything gets worse.” She catches up, smiling up at Miles. “Your sister wants to go with us. She doesn't want to stay here. She’s scared of those boys.”
His face darkens but he doesn't speak. I don't know if he’s annoyed with us or her, or the boys, and I don't really care to know. If it is us, I’d rather be in the dark.
He and Lee each grab a huge case of food and saunter off, but I get caught up in the photos on the walls. Mrs. Milson and the kids, their son and daughter when they were young. There’s a picture of my family on the wall. We’re all wearing Christmas sweaters. I’m ten and Joey’s only a toddler but we have on the matching sweaters Mrs. Milson knitted for us.
My father is laughing in the picture, making the laugh lines around his eyes look like thick wrinkles. My mom, the only person not wearing a sweater, is hardly even smiling. She is rocking her resting-bitch face, my favorite. I realize it is the single thing I miss the most in the world. She died thinking I hated her.
Seeing her fills my eyes with tears. I lift a finger, brushing it softly against the picture.
“That your family?” Suddenly, I realize Kyle has snuck up on me and is directly behind me. Everything hurts so much that I don't really care. I nod, sniffling a little. He points to the picture of the Milsons standing outside in one of largest snowfalls we ever had. “That's insane.”
I look back, nodding. “It was over my head in the tree wells on the slopes.”
He whistles. “Wish I had known you then.”
I scowl but he just grins. “I would have totally ingratiated myself into the family to come skiing.”
It makes me laugh.
He takes the picture of my family off the wall and pulls it from the frame. He folds it and slips it into my pocket, acting like we’ve been friends for ten years and not acquaintances for ten hours. “How do you know Miles?” I ask as I lift a case of food from the counter.
“Same frat.” He chuckles. “Mostly though we bonded last Christmas when the Die Hard marathon was on. His flight was canceled so he stayed. My family was in Europe and I didn't feel like joining so we hung out and did Christmas, just the two of us—and of course, John McClane.”
I roll my eyes but I watched it too with my dad. I was home and bummed because Miles wasn't able to come home. Too much snow and stormy weather. Jamie had made fun of me for it, she and Sasha.
When we finish bringing all the food over to our cabin, it seems l
ike a lot, filling the entire storage room my parents had made for ski gear.
“Don't wake her up. She’ll worry.” Mr. Milson gives me a look as I head up the stairs to the room to kiss Joey goodbye. “Just go and get supplies and hurry back.”
“She’ll be mad if I don't say goodbye.”
He shakes his head. “She’ll beg you to stay and won’t understand the need to get food and rations.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I nod, glancing at the stunned look on Miles’ face. He shakes his head. “Mr. Milson, if you’ll stay here with the girls and my sister and Sasha, I’ll go with these morons and keep them safe.”
Mr. Milson looks at me for the answer. “You comfortable with that?”
I open my lips to answer but Jamie pushes past me, shoving her brother. “You can’t make me stay.”
He grips her arms, holding her still. “You need to rest. You were drinking too much. You look exhausted, James. You can’t actually shoot a gun and have no experience looting. What exactly are you going to do for us?” He sounds a little softer when he uses the pet name he always calls her. She’s always been James to him.
Jamie’s lip quivers. “I just wanna go. I don't wanna be here when they come up here.”
Mr. Milson nods at the door, telling us to hurry and go. “Jamie, why don't you let me teach you how to shoot so that the next time we have a supply run, you can go?”
She looks back at him, defeated but still nodding in agreement. “Okay.”
