Red Hill (11 page)

Chapter Twelve

Nathan

LESS THAN HALF AN HOUR
down the road, I noticed a small sign that read
HIGHWAY 123
. Another small two-lane, it ran all the way to Kansas. It was less than an hour away, and if I remembered correctly from my and Skeeter's last hunting trip, there was only one small town between where we were and the state line. Beyond that was nothing but farmland and ranch land for miles. Maybe we could find an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of nowhere where we could set up camp. Maybe we would get lucky and it wouldn't be abandoned, and the occupants, old or new, would let us stay.

My mind was drifting when I turned onto the highway, so it must have been instinct, or at least a choice on a subconscious level. Either way, Zoe and I were headed north.

“We're not going back to get my papers, are we?” Zoe said. She didn't try to hide her disappointment.

“I'm sorry, honey. I don't think it's safe.”

“So I'm not going to school tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Won't you get arrested if you don't take me to school?”

“Not if everyone else stays home from school, too.”

That answer seemed to appease Zoe for the moment, but I knew she would only form a list of more questions to ask at a later time. The end of everything was hard for everyone. Especially children. Even more so for children like Zoe that didn't handle change well. My daughter had required a routine since birth. Rules and boundaries were her safe haven. I wasn't sure how I could provide that for her now.

I watched Zoe's head bounce subtly with the tune in her head. Once in a while the splash of freckles across her nose would move when she scrunched her nose to sniff.

“You're not getting a cold, are you?”

Zoe shook her head, willing to let me make small talk. “I don't think so. I wash my hands a lot.”

I nodded. “That's good . . . ,” I trailed off, noticing something ahead. At first, I thought it might have been a car stalled in the road, but then I saw movement. A lot of movement, fluid and slow. When we came closer, I saw a herd of those things surrounding a vehicle. The car alarm was bleating, and the dead seemed to be agitated by the noise. They were wildly trying to get inside the vehicle. I couldn't see whether anyone was trapped within. I didn't want to.

“Daddy?”

“Hang on, Zoe,” I said, turning the wheel off the highway and into the town. The first houses were within a block of the highway. I drove faster than I should have, but I was hoping to get around the herd and make it back onto 123 without losing much time. The sun would set soon, and I didn't want us to be near those things in the dark. Every road I turned down led me either down another road that was too close to the herd, or to another group walking toward the herd.

After the third U-turn, a yellow light on the dashboard, accompanied by a chime, nearly sent me into a panic. We were low on fuel, the sun was going down, and I wasn't familiar enough with this town to find a safe place for me and Zoe for the night. For the first time since I'd left the church, I was afraid that I'd made the wrong decision.

We came up on a dead end, and I pressed on the brakes, seeing a gas can on the front porch of the only house on that end of the road. The last two blocks had been a gravel road, and I didn't see much around. Most of the townspeople were congregated in the middle of the highway.

“Zoe, I'm going to get that gas can over there, and then put some in the car so we can drive the rest of the way.”

“The rest of the way to where?”

“I'll be right back, honey. Don't get out of the car, okay?”

Zoe nodded, and I took a quick glance around before getting out. I walked to the porch quickly, hoping with every step there was actual gasoline inside that red plastic container. I climbed the steps and bent over, but when I placed my hand on the handle, the door opened, and the distinct sound of a shotgun being cocked made me freeze in place.

I closed my eyes. “Please don't. My little girl is watching.” After a short pause, and the realization that I wasn't dead yet, I looked up. An old man was at the opposite end of the shotgun. Sweaty, dirty, and in an oversized pair of blue and white striped overalls, he pulled the gun away from my temple. “You lettin' your kid watch you steal?”

“I wasn't trying to steal,” I said, standing up slowly, keeping my hands up and away from my body. The goal was to be as nonthreatening as possible. “The gas light in my car just dinged. It's getting dark. We're just trying to find someplace safe for the night.”

The man squinted his eyes and scratched his white five o'clock shadow, and then lowered his gun. “Get your girl. Bring her inside. Better hurry. One or two pass by here ever so often.”

A part of me wanted to grab Zoe and bring her into his home without a second thought. The other part remembered he'd just held a gun to my head. A woman poked her head out from behind the door, and then stepped out onto the porch. She was a bitty thing, her short gray hair styled a lot like Zoe's.

“Oh, good Lord, Walter. Let these poor people come in.”

“I asked them in, honey. He's just standing there.”

She pushed down his gun. “Well put your gun away, silly!” She held out her hand. “I'm Joy.”

“Nathan Oxford. My daughter Zoe is in the car. Nice to meet you.”

Walter frowned. “That's great, son, but you best get your baby and come inside.”

I nodded and took a long step off the porch, turning off my car and coaxing Zoe outside. She'd seen Walter pull the gun on me, and wasn't sure this was a good idea, either. We followed Joy inside, and Walter locked up behind us.

Joy wiped her hands on her trousers and paused in the center of the living room. The house was immaculate, but the carpet was at least thirty years old, and it smelled like it. “We're going to sleep downstairs in the basement. Walter is going to nail the door shut for the night.”

“What if they get in the house?” I said quietly.

Walter held his gun at his side. “We've got food and water down there. Joy was just bringing more. They don't seem to notice the house, though. They're all attracted to something on the other side of town.”

“There's a car with a security system going off on the highway. They're all crowded around that.”

Walter frowned, deep in thought. “So they're attracted to sound. We'll just keep quiet. They won't have a reason to mess around here. I'll lock the doors. I don't think they'll try to get in through the windows unless we draw attention to ourselves.”

It made me nervous to think we wouldn't have an exit strategy, but it was better than nothing, and safer than sleeping upstairs.

Zoe and I helped Joy bring food and water downstairs to the basement. It was finished, with a couch and a couple of recliners facing a flat-screen television.

Walter laughed once. “Joy bought that for me for Christmas last year. All you can see on it now is snow.”

Zoe and I snuggled up on a yellow and brown plaid couch while Walter nailed the basement door shut, and then nailed a two-by-four across the middle section. Joy covered us with a blanket, also straight out of the 1970s, and in record time, Zoe was relaxed and sleeping in my arms. I was afraid she wouldn't be able to sleep because we were in a strange place, but she was exhausted. I rested my cheek against her hair. The light-brown strands were stringy and tangled, making me think of all the comforts of home we no longer had. Simple things, like a brush.

“You sure have a pretty girl there,” Joy whispered, smiling. “My daughter Darla lives in Midland. You ever been to Midland?”

I shook my head.

“We were actually packing to go see them this weekend. We were going to leave yesterday, but I wanted to make sure I had someone to water my flowers before we left.” She sighed, and her eyes filled with tears. “I might never see her again, or my grandbabies. Because of the goddamn flowers.”

“You could see her again.”

“You think so?” she said, cautious hope in her voice.

I smiled and kissed Zoe's temple, and then leaned my head back against the cushion. “Thank you. For letting us stay here tonight.”

“You can stay as long as you like,” Joy whispered, glancing up at her husband still busy securing the door. “Who knows when this is all sorted out . . . or if it will ever be.”

Miranda

EVEN WHEN MY EYES OPENED
, it was still dark. The scratching and padding by the dead ones outside had stopped, and Bryce was awake, staring straight ahead. I sat up and tried to stretch the knots out of my back.

“Did you sleep?” I asked quietly.

Bryce shook his head, and then looked over at me with a smile. “I might have dozed off for a few minutes. I'm glad you did, though.” He leaned over and touched his lips to mine for the first time in twenty-four hours. “You were incredible yesterday. I didn't know you knew how to drive like that.”

I wrapped my arms around my middle to ward off the early-morning chill. Bryce cradled me to his side. He wasn't the most muscular guy at school, but he was athletically built, and his sweet smile made staying mad at him impossible. His dark hair was about two months overdue for a haircut, and when he leaned over to kiss me, some of it fell forward into his eyes. He used his fingers to comb it away, refusing to do the incredibly annoying head jerk most guys did to get their hair out of their eyes.

They look like they're having a seizure,
he used to say. I didn't like it, either, but I would ignore it if it meant I could see his blue eyes. Bryce's smile was amazing, and he was nothing less than noble, but his eyes were my favorite part about him. I think I fell in love with them before I fell in love with him.

Ashley and Cooper were cuddled together. With just a cardigan, white tee, and baby blue fashion scarf, she wasn't any more prepared to be without heat than I was in my cotton ­T-shirt and light jacket. The guys didn't show it if they were cold.

“What is that noise?” Cooper asked, turning his right ear in the direction of the kitchen. His eyes bounced around as he listened.

Bryce grabbed my hand and stood, leading me to the doorway of the kitchen. It was dark in there, too, but there were a few candles around the room. The small flames provided just enough light for us to see Skeeter McGee on his knees, weeping over the woman lying on the floor. He was trying to keep quiet. If it wasn't for him sucking in a breath every now and then, I might not have known.

“Oh my God!” Ashley said.

Bryce shushed her, and returned his attention to Skeeter. “Is she . . . ?”

Doris brought a blanket from the hall and spread it over the top of the woman. “God bless you, Jill. May the Lord open his arms wide for you and keep you.”

We all stood there and watched in uncomfortable silence while Skeeter sobbed quietly for another twenty minutes or so. After a while he caught his breath, and then wiped his face. “So I guess uh . . . I guess we better bury her.”

Doris shifted, nervous. “How are we going to do that with those things out there?”

An older man with white hair spoke. “We can't just throw her outside, Doris, and she can't stay in here.”

Doris fidgeted, finally putting her fingers to her mouth. “I'm . . . I'm so sorry, Skeeter, but I can't go out there.”

“I'll go,” Bryce said. Skeeter looked up at him with wet eyes. “I'll help you. We'll need someone watching our backs, and maybe a distraction, but I'll help you dig.”

I crossed my arms, trying to keep the words I was about to say from falling out of my mouth, but they came anyway. “I'll help, too. I'll distract them.”

“You can be the lookout,” Bryce said. “Coop was in track. He can be the distraction.”

“What?” Cooper said, eyes wide. “Me?”

Ashley grabbed on to him. “No,” she frowned, desperation in her voice. “We're not sending him out there as bait.”

Cooper wrapped both arms around Ashley, his eyes falling on Skeeter. “I appreciate you helping us out back there, man, but going outside in the dark is an unnecessary risk. What if they get inside and we're all out there digging a hole? There are women and children in here.”

“I'm buryin' my wife,” Skeeter said, standing. He was just as tall as Bryce, and a lot more intimidating. “I'm not asking anyone for help.”

“I know you're not,” Bryce said. “Let's take a minute and think of a plan so that everyone is safe.”

Skeeter wiped his face again and nodded. The white-haired man went over to the woman's body and began to quietly pray.

“It should be light before long,” I said. “Let's put together a plan, and when the sun comes up, we'll bury Jill.”

Skeeter nodded. “Thank you.”

The youngest and oldest of us were fast asleep while we planned Jill's funeral. The church's cemetery wasn't fifty yards away. Skeeter wanted to bury her there. Already my heart was pounding, thinking about standing in the morning fog, in a cemetery, watching for zombies. It didn't get any more Hollywood horror story than that.

“I'm going to bury her by her grandpa,” Skeeter said. “He was laid to rest on the north side.”

Bryce nodded. “Okay, so Eric and Gary get on the roof and get them away from the back door. Coop can run out and get them to follow him around until we're finished.”

“How long do you think that'll take?” Cooper asked, swallowing hard. “To dig a grave, I mean.”

Bryce shrugged. “As long as it takes. We'll work fast as we can.”

Ashley sighed. “This isn't a good idea.”

“I'll keep an eye out while you're digging,” I said. “Cooper will run around like lost zombie bait . . .”

“I'll say a few words,” the reverend said, straightening his tie. He looked more nervous than Ashley. “And then we're getting the hell back inside.”