“I’m telling you swore.”
“I didn’t swear, I spelled. His name’s Georgie. He doesn’t go by George. Don’t ask why a-cause I don’t know. And his sister’s—my name is Mai. And I am seven. And I spend time with Georgie because I feel sorry for him.”
“You the one don’t got friends.”
“He’ll talk and talk. But you don’t have to listen. Georgie, do you want to knock or should I?”
“Hell, I ain’t about to knock at my own house. Just go in.”
“Ain’t your house, it’s Daddy’s house. And Mama’s a-cause she runs it. Every place has an owner and a manager. And they are in charge.” Mai turned around to us. “Do you believe that, Audrey?”
“Believe what, sweetie?”
“Every place has an owner and a manager.”
“That sounds right.”
Mai dragged the rifles to the side of the porch and set them in the snow by the steps. Then, we followed her up the steps while Georgie barged in the house, the hallway mostly dark with a gentle glow from the hidden lamp. We stayed outside with Mai. She was dressed head-to-toe in pink winter wear. Her cap, puffy coat, and vinyl boots were all a size too large. Standing still, she looked like a lawn ornament. We heard yelling. And silence. Footsteps boomed toward us, vibrating our feet as they got closer.
“Don’t worry, I don’t think Georgie told on me for swearing.”
“That’s good, sweetheart,” Audrey said.
Mai smiled. “Jack doesn’t talk a lot,” she whispered.
“Tell me about it,” Audrey whispered back.
A short, wide man came to the door. Georgie was tucked shyly behind him. At the end of the hallway, I saw a woman. She was their mother I guessed. She stood with a kerosene lamp in one hand.
“I told you they wasn’t like the others,” Georgie said.
“You speak?” The man’s voice was soft but loud.
“Of course,” Audrey said.
“Him,” he pointed to me.
“He doesn’t say much,” Mai whispered to him.
I stared at the wide man.
“Get inside. Come on,” he pushed open the screen door and held it for us as we trailed in melted snow and dirt. As Mai came in, her father stopped her.
“You put their guns by the steps?”
“Yessir.”
“Grab them real quick and bring them in.”
I turned, “They’re loaded.”
“You think my daughter’s stupid?”
“He thinks Mai’s stupid, Daddy,” Georgie said.
Mai kicked the door open and yelled, “He don’t think I’m stupid, Daddy! He’s just a worrier.”
Mai dragged the rifles across the hardwood floor and stopped next to us at the kitchen table.
“They got a deer gun and a cannon, Daddy.”
“I see they do. Why don’t you hand them here and go to bed?”
“Yeah, get to bed,” Georgie said.
“Boy, go to your room. You’re already in trouble,” Mai handed over the rifles and the man set them on the kitchen table. Georgie and Mai skulked off to their rooms. “Why don’t we talk in private,” he pointed to the hallway.
He led us into a spare bedroom. The twin bed had one pillow, the pillowcase freshly starched. Audrey and I sat on the bed. He sat on the small, unfinished desk in the corner. His wife stood in the doorway holding the lamp. He reached out to me, hand open. I shook it.
“Matthew Scudder.”
“Jack Heart. This is Audrey.”
They shook hands. Matthew lowered his head and scratched the nape of his neck. He sat up and pointed to the woman in the shadows. “That’s Claire. My wife.”
Claire waved softly to us, her face warm and yellow in the lamplight.
“Were the kids hiding in the feed barrel?”
I nodded. Audrey stared at her shoes.
“Either there or the barn, that’s where they been sitting out the last two days. Georgie could have shot you dead, you know. He’s a good shot.”
“I could have shot him, too.”
“Well, that’s not the matter. Everyone knows to watch the woods on account of that’s where those things come through. Use it like a highway. The straightest path, I guess. Now, why you’re wandering through the middle of it, a lady with you,” he eyed Audrey’s fleece-lined boots, muddy and tattered. “It’s beyond me. You know someone’s out there just waiting to shoot without asking who’s there.”
“Well, we don’t know that. Didn’t know that.”
“You’re the only people in the world who don’t know what’s going on is what you’re telling me?”
“We know. But that the woods are off limits, that’s news to us.”
“That’s the first thing you should have known.”
“Sewell only told us about the quarantine,” Audrey said to herself.
“You talked to Sewell?”
“Well, yeah. Tried to kill us. Then took us to his house.”
“Wonder you’re not still there. He tends to hoard people. Kinda lonely.”
“We noticed.”
“He give you this rifle?” He tapped the Remington’s stock.
“No.”
“Yours?”
“No.”
“I know it’s not because I sold that rifle to a boy just a couple weeks ago.”
“That boy is dead now,” I said. “And I have his rifle.”
He looked me up and down like he had Audrey. “Why are you two going through the woods?”
“We’re trying to get out.”
“Everyone’s trying to get out.”
“We don’t live here, though.”
“No?”
“No. I was hiking. I got trapped.”
“You hiking, too?”
“No,” Audrey said.
“You together?”
“We are now.”
“What’s in the pack?”
I told him exactly what I’d kept in the pack and what I’d left in the woods.
“We would really like to get out. Not a place to stay, not something to eat, just out,” Audrey told him.
“I don’t blame you. This isn’t exactly a quarantine zone, it’s a military zone. A rural Death Valley.“
“It’s a kill town. Like the sign says.”
“Exactly. And let me tell you the truth,” he stared at Audrey. “Everyone with half an ounce of common sense wants to leave. But that’s just not an option. We got two main roads, a couple of farm roads, and the river. All’s blocked but the river.”
“Then we’re going to the river.”
“What’s this about?” He slapped the desk. “I understand you’re a long way from home, but you have to appreciate the situation. You can’t go anywhere.”
“Are you the law?” Audrey snapped.
“There’s no law anymore. Not at the moment.”
“I think we’re just going to leave.”
He held up his hands. “Let me set you straight. They’re not dangerous because they’re nervous and shooting at everything that moves. They’re dangerous because they’re not taking chances. Do you get that? Even if you’re fine, no signs of infection, they’ll take you in for any reason they can. Make up something if they have to.”
“And you’re different? You’re not locking us in your spare bedroom and taking away our guns?”
“The fact that you’re even alive is luck. That’s it. The moment you walked in my house, you became the safest you’ve ever been. And now your safety isn’t luck. It’s me.”
Audrey pulled up her sleeve to reveal the blackened bite wound. “The safest I ever was, I was at home when I didn’t have to worry about any of this shit. And if I’m going to turn into one of those goddamn monsters, then I’d like to do so freely. I don’t want to die a prisoner in your kill town.”
His eyes fixed on the bite mark. He chewed his lower lip and looked at me. “You?”