by Tara Brown
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 like 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.”
Miles hugs his sister and mutters something to Mr. Milson. I don't hear because I am busy giving Sasha a hug. “If we find anything on the coast, we’ll be back in two days to take you guys there. If we don't find anything, we’ll be back with an ass ton of supplies. Don't tell Mr. Milson about the trip. I don't want him trying to come and then having a dizzy spell or anything like that.”
Her blue eyes narrow. “If you find something, hurry.”
“We will.” I hug her, letting myself relax into the embrace for a solid second. Then I bend down, letting my face rub against Furgus.’ He pants peacefully. He’s truly the gentlest dog on the planet. “Take care of Joey, Gus. Don't let her out of your sight.” He continues to pant, oblivious to what I’ve said. Sasha rubs his head. “We won’t.”
When we get into the Hummer we stole in town, Miles shakes his head at Erin and me. “You two think you’re going to make the coast and find some sanctuary? You’re nuts. But if you have to see, let’s make this a record trip. I wanna be back here in twenty-four hours.”
I raise my eyebrows as he starts the vehicle and begins the trip down the hill.
Chapter 10
“Someone else’s turn to drive.” Kyle yawns. Miles drove for the first four hours, getting us farther than I had imagined he might. When we stopped for gas in a small town along the freeway, Kyle took over. The gas station had been deserted.
Now, as Kyle pulls into another, I see a small crowd of them, biters. Erin, Kyle, Lee, and Miles don't seem bothered by the sight at all. He drives the Hummer directly to the gas station and pulls up to the pump. My skin crawls and my stomach tightens as the group of ragged-looking biters jerk to life, each twitching their heads to the right.
I’m crawling up the back of the seat when Miles racks the shotgun and Erin pulls a sawed-off shotgun from beside her chair. Kyle jumps out, opening the back of the vehicle and grabbing two guns.
Something insane happens. Miles lifts the gun and shoots the first person, pelting him with shotgun pellets and making dark blood appear in a pattern on the others’ chests and arms as the spray hits them all. But a man looking weak and exhausted, with a large bloody stain on his shoulder emerges from the crowd. He walks through them, rubbing against them, but I can see panic in his stare. His eyes cry out to me, while his lips don't seem to be able to.
I jump from the car, remembering the story Mr. Milson had about his neighbor. Kyle lifts his handgun as I shout, “DON’T SHOOT HIM!”
The man reaches with a filthy hand, shaking his bloody face. He whispers as if he’s on his deathbed. “Please, don't shoot,” His words are hissed as he staggers toward us, just ahead of the biters. Miles gives me a look as I take the man’s arm and drag him past the pumps as the gunfire opens up, dropping bodies to the ground.
The man, maybe as old as my dad, gives me a weakened smile. “Thanks.”
“You were bitten?” I peek over the top of his shirt as he takes a knee, gripping to the back of a car with the door still open. I grab a bottle of water from the back of the SUV and slowly dribble it into his parted lips.
“I was, but I don't remember much of anything else. There was a light.” He sips the water slowly, swallowing like his throat is raw and wincing when he gets too much. “I woke up and I was on the ground over there. The biters were there, just standing perfectly still. When I got up, they jerked their heads three times but they never attacked me. They let me be.” He swallows more water, his eyes darting behind me as I feel warmth coming up on my back. My entire body freezes as I glance back, almost jumping when I see Miles staring down on us.
“What the hell?”
I help the man drink the water. “Mr. Milson told me a story about his neighbor being a biter and then being okay afterward. I think some of the people, after they bite, they heal. The man was fine after Mrs. Milson nursed him back to health.”
Erin and Lee join our little group. “I’ve never seen that before.” Erin gives me a dubious look.
“Me either, but Mr. Milson doesn’t lie. If he says it happened, I believe it. Besides, this guy kinda proves it. That bite looks old. It’s half healed and he walked right through the biters.” I point at the puddle of feet behind us, all twitchy still, in an awk
ward way that might suggest they are still alive.
Miles lowers his face close to the man’s wound and nods. “Yeah, it’s old.” He slaps the man on the other shoulder. “Welcome back, I guess.” He gives me a look. “We gotta go.”
Kyle comes running over, shaking his head. “No backup generators here. We gotta siphon again.” He jumps in and drives the SUV to a manhole-looking thing in the ground and hops out. He pulls the lid off, twists a cap off, and drops a hose down into it. I gag when he sucks on the other side and liquid squirts out, getting a little on him before he puts it in the gas tank fast. I shudder watching but no one else bats an eyelash. I realize then that they have been through something more while I was sitting on my mountain and hiding in my house. They have been surviving, and it wasn't pretty. It still isn’t.
Something in my peripheral moves. The bodies on the ground start twitching harder. I back away, dragging the man with me. I pull him into the gas station. Lee is on my heels. We close the door and watch as the dead people flop about on the ground, moving as if they’re having a seizure.
“They’re moving closer to each other. Look.” Lee points.
Her words make my stomach hurt and make it feel like I have to pee but I’m way too scared for that. My face is pressed against the glass, making a foggy breath mark. The man next to me is trembling. He backs up slowly and it’s then I notice the nametag on his coveralls. “Stan, is this your gas station?”
He nods but his eyes don't leave the frothing ground of dead bodies trying to form a pile or circle.
“Do you have food and water?”
His eyes dart to mine, skeptical of my reasons for asking.
“We’re leaving you here. We just want to make sure you’re okay.” Lee sighs, shaking her head. “We aren’t gonna jack you, dude.”
“I will be okay. I live above.” He sighs too but his is in relief and not annoyance.
Lee grabs my hand, not giving him a second more of attention, and drags me from the glass door. She runs for the Hummer, jumping in and closing the door. Miles and Erin stand with guns and confusion pointed at the crowd as Kyle finishes. He drags the hose out, spilling gas everywhere. I notice how he’s spilling it as he tosses the hose off to the side. Miles is screwing around with some dust and the manhole cover.
Kyle jumps in and starts the vehicle, driving us several feet away.
Erin backs up slowly, aiming her gun at the gas and shooting. Instantly fire jumps up from the ground. It follows the spill trail to the group of frothing dead biters. As they catch fire, no noise leaves their mouths, but they squirm harder as the fire licks and peels at their skin and ragged clothes.
Miles watches, waiting until the last body stops moving before he gets inside of the SUV. We drive away as the smoke turns black.
“The tank is gonna blow if the fire leads back there,” I mention, wondering how they can care so little about Stan inside.
“I put the kitty litter oil-spill stuff on the ground, separating the spill from the manhole cover.”
I nod, hoping that will make a difference for Stan. I don't like that we’ve left him behind.
Miles gives me a look. “Your turn to drive, Lou.”
I squint at him. "Why?"
He grins like it isn’t the end of the world. "Firstly, you're obsessed with Red Bull.” He tosses a can of it at me. “Secondly, I know you stay up and play World of Warcraft for sixteen hours at a time. I think we both know you don’t need sleep.”
My cheeks brighten up, but I look down at my feet so he won’t see. “Whatever. Okay.” I can’t believe he just outed me as a LARP nerd. I also can’t believe he remembers that I play and drink Red Bull. So much for him ever seeing me as a regular girl—ever.
He chuckles. “Thirdly, because I'm better with maps than you and Kyle and these two have no idea where we are. You and I both know this highway pretty well."
Kyle pulls over and we trade seats. In the rearview I catch him grinning at Erin. She rolls her eyes and mouths, “You wish.” He nods and mutters. “I do.”
I put the Hummer in drive and start back on the highway. Being the driver I see so many things I didn't notice on the way from the mountain in the dark. Straggler biters stand, alone and frozen on the side of the highway. They look emaciated and dying but they don't move their feet. Their clothes rustle in the wind, whipping about as Mother Nature tries to convince them to move before they die there.
My brain takes trips, many along the mostly clear highway. I can’t help but think about Mom and Dad. I can’t help but wonder if they’ve both died alone, leaving us. My brain refuses to believe my dad is also gone. I am certain he is alive and desperately trying to find a way to get to me. I start to panic a little.
Miles gives me a look. "It'll be okay. If we have to drive back home because there is nothing at the coast, we will."
I nod but I don't say anything. In all honesty, I’m still kinda pissed about the World of Warcraft comment. I hate that he sees me this way.
“You still have that crappy red car?” He has a smug grin on his face that I want to whack off.
“No.” My crappy little red Honda civic died six months ago. It was my first car ever and I had loved it. I still miss it. “It died and Dad was going to take me car shopping when he got home.”
He whacks my arm like I am one of the boys. “You remember when it died at school and we pushed it and got it to start?”
I can’t fight the smile on my face. He made half the seniors push my car so Jamie, Sasha, and me could get home. We were so embarrassed.
“What was the name of that hunk of junk?”
"Don't hurt Betsy's feelings. It’s bad juju to make fun of the car after it’s died."
"You're bad juju," he mutters. “Betsy! How did I ever forget a name like Betsy?”
I lift my middle finger into the air and sip my Red Bull.
“How do you not get rashes from that stuff? It gives me hives.”
I stick my lower lip out. “Awww, muffin. Everyone gets a rash from Red Bull but only the strong fight through it.” I cock an eyebrow and sneer. “And dude, World of Warcraft has maps. I'm great with maps."
He laughs, shaking his head. “I have missed you, Lou. You’re a funny girl.” He hits me in the arm again playfully. “But now that I’m closer, I bet my odds of hitting you are better, huh?”
I roll my eyes. “Someone needs some new material.” I glance up into the rearview to see the three of them in the back are sleeping. Erin is resting her head on Kyle’s shoulder. Miles follows my stare. “Look at him, he’s grinning in his sleep because she’s touching him.” He shakes his head and I swear I see a jealous look in his eyes.
We drive for two hours of clear highway, swerving around only a handful of cars. When we enter Spokane city limits my insides tighten. I’ve only been here a few times, but the city doesn't look the way it did the last time I was here. It’s not like Laurel or the small places we’ve seen along the freeway. In fact, if I hadn’t ever been here before, I’d say it was a slum city in a less developed country.
Cars line the sides of the highway near every exit we pass, but they sit in a way that might suggest they were pushed to clear a path for something large. On the horizon smoke lifts from buildings and vehicles, but it’s not billowing—it’s a trickle of what I assume was once filling the skies. I slow down, as the highway gets busier with stopped vehicles and small herds of frozen biters. They jerk in one wave as if a dancer choreographed it. Each moves forward with a faster, more aggressive speed than the biters back home. The temperature here is warmer, making their bodies more malleable.
“Stay calm, Lou. Just focus on where we’re going, not what’s behind us.” Miles’ voice is calm but it scares me more than if he’d just freak out like I am inside. I take a deep breath, wincing as I squeeze the huge vehicle between two small cars. I hit on both sides, jarring everyone in the back awake. The cars spin, blocking the path behind us a bit. The biters have no problem climbing over th
e debris and wreckage. They pick up speed as they hit the cement again, some falling as others trample them. I hit the gas a little, trying to go faster. The freeway blocks ahead of us with a traffic jam. I can see there’s no way around it and the meridian in the middle prevents us from going on the other side of the road. “Uhhh, Miles—”
“Take the exit.” Miles points at the sign to the right. I swerve, taking the exit and maneuvering around the cars in the way. I brace for the hit as I push us past a van in the way. “Keep driving in the same direction as the freeway, another exit will come.”
Kyle racks his shotgun, giving me a wicked grin in the rearview. “Don't get us stuck. We only have so much ammunition.”
Lee leans forward, pushing her sister onto him. “Ignore him. You’re doing great.” She shoots him a look that could kill.
My palms start sweating as I am forced to round a corner, driving over rubble from a building with a vehicle crashed into the side of it. A man runs past us, screaming as a herd of them chase him down a side road.
“There are people still alive here.”
Kyle nods at me in the rearview. “There were all the way across the country too.”
As we drive to the top of a small hill, I notice a woman peering from a window in a house, looking scared in the dark. She waves at us violently, as if we might be able to help her. Her hands lower when she sees what’s behind us. She ducks, vanishing from my sight as I skid around the corner of her street. I end up in a hilly spot, a suburb of the city in the north side of town.
“There’s an exit!” Miles points, almost grabbing the wheel. I turn quickly, running a man over as he runs directly into us. The way the Hummer jostles us as we drive over his body makes my mouth sour. The SUV teeters and bumps as I skid my way back up onto the freeway. I crash into the side of a truck, pushing it out of our way. As we leave the city limits, the cars thin out and I’m able to swerve around them easily again.
My head is pounding, my knuckles are completely white, and my mouth feels like a thousand cotton balls have sucked the moisture from it, but I drive on. When I finally don't see a car for a couple minutes I pull over, skidding to a halt and leaping from the car. I bend at the waist, losing my Red Bull all over the concrete. It splashes, leaving damp spots on the brown boots. Hands rub my back, making warm chills play air hockey on my spine.
