Выбрать главу

The celebration was cut short.

The helicopter pivoted. The tail was degrees higher than the cockpit. It looked menacing when it faced us. It became threatening when it came at us.

Dave grabbed my hand. Tore Sues’ blouse sleeve from my grasp.

“Run,” I said, turning.

Dave jumped up and down. He waved the white sleeve over his head like a surrendering flag. He had the right idea.

We all jumped up and down again, flagging the air with waves of our arms. The piece of shirt made the difference. It was an intelligent sign. Zombies appeared dumb as fuck. Hungry, but brainless.

The helicopter stayed over the back lot of the restaurant. Suddenly, I thought running might have been the better plan.

Allison took my hand. Another sign we weren’t mindless creatures.

Sues took a stance like she was ready to sprint at the helicopter. I took her hand. Looked at her. I had to yell to be heard over the spinning rotors. “No sudden moves. They’ll shoot us all.”

A speaker crackled. “Stay where you are! A Humvee will be by in an hour to pick you up. Wave your flag if you copy.”

Dave waved the sleeve.

The front of the helicopter tipped forward, then lifted and spun around and flew away. We stood statue, still watching it fly north. I felt deflated. Help was coming. The chopper was leaving.

I still didn’t have my kids.

“I want you guys to stay here. Wait for the military to pick you up,” I said. “I will be back in an hour.”

It was a lie. Mostly. If my kids were not at my place, I wasn’t coming back. I wouldn’t give up on them just because the Border Patrol was sending out a rescue team.

Allison still held my hand. She squeezed it. “Dave, you watch Sues, here. Make sure she’s okay. Chase and I will be right back.”

I wasn’t arguing with her. I wanted her with me. Might be selfish, but I don’t think I could handle being separated from her any better than I could, not having my kids.

“We’re a team, guys. I’m going too,” Dave said.

“I seriously need you to stay. Sues is in no condition to run with us. That’s what we’re going to be doing. Running. You need to stay with her. Watch over her. She needs protection right now. An hour is a long time. The noise that chopper made, it might have attracted more zombies than it wiped out, and you know what I mean?” I said. “I promised your brother I’d take care of you. Man, that sounds wrong. You are more than capable of . . . I promised him we’d be friends. As your friend, Dave, you waiting for the Border Patrol is the best bet. For all of us. We’re going to do everything we can to be back in time.”

Dave had a freaking tear. “Stop, man,” I said. I pulled him into a hug. “We’re going to be right back. Okay.”

“What if you’re not?”

“You got your radio?” He patted it, where it was clipped to his hip. “You tell me where the base is. And we’ll come find you guys. Okay? Please, Dave. Do this for me.”

“Take care of her,” Dave thumbed a finger over his shoulder.

I nodded.

“Go then. Run. Hurry,” Dave said. “Go!”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

A vehicle wrapped around a telephone pole is the first thing I noticed as Allison and I crossed Stone Rd, and headed into the apartment complex. Someone was inside the car. Blood splattered the cracked front windshield. I couldn’t pull open the driver’s door. It was bent and crushed.

“Try the passenger door,” I said.

“Stuck shut,” Allison said.

I knocked on the window. “Hey, hey,” I said.

The person inside did not move. Looked like the engine back was on his lap. We weren’t going to get him out. It did not look like he was alive. I saw no signs of breathing.

I walked to the pole. It was split. The wires above kept it suspended. “Come on,” I said. “Nothing we can do here.”

Allison stared at the car as we walked into the complex, toward my building at the back.

My heart raced. I thought it might pop open behind my ribcage. I had no clue what to think. What to expect. I only knew what I hoped, and I was afraid I’d jinx it if I allowed even a hint of light into the darkness that made up my thoughts the last several days.

We stayed close to each of the buildings. Since the copter left, I hadn’t seen a single zombie. Didn’t mean they weren’t around. They were. Had to be. I just wasn’t in any mood to encounter a single one.

The nondescript brick buildings mirrored each other. Parking was a nightmare anyway, but right now, it was unnavigable. Abandoned cars askew all over the place. Made Allison’s words replay over in my head. Getting to Mexico seemed impossible, if only improbable at best.

We rounded the last corner, and saw two zombies milling absently about. We hunkered down. They looked like slow ones. What have since become my favorite. I wasn’t foolish about it though. Getting overpowered by a group of slow zombies could happen as easily as getting taken down by a fast one.

“Do we take them out?” Allison said.

I made sure I only saw the two. They were it. “I think we should. Quietly.”

It was, best I could remember, the first time we attacked them, instead of us waiting to be attacked. “On three,” I said, smiling.

One. Two. Three.

We stood.

They saw us. They stopped. Stared.

We charged. No battle cry. Just with weapons raised.

They walked toward us, too fucking dumb to realize they were about to have their shit kicked out of them.

It was hardly a fight. I smacked the shovel blade into the side its head. It crumbled to the pavement, stood on its knees. I raised the blade above my head and brought it down crushing his skull. Goo oozed from its ears as it fell forward, face first.

Allison was pulling the closed blades of her clippers out of the second zombie’s throat.

“Daddy!”

I heard it. It echoed.

“Dad! Daddy!”

Two voices. I spun around to stare up at my apartment window. Their faces pressed against the mesh of the screen.

I dropped my shovel. My hands rolled into fists. “Stay there. Stay right there!”

I ran for the door, through it, and up the stairs to my apartment. I threw open the door.

They were still on the couch, curtains parted.

“What have I told you guys about shoes on my furniture,” I said, my eyes filled with tears, impossible to swallow the heart that filled my throat. “Get over here!”

Cash bounced on the cushion, into the air and wrapped his arms around my leg before I could even drop to my knees. He wasn’t letting go, though. I had to loosen his grip. He re-wrapped around too tight around my neck. I didn’t stop him, didn’t need to breathe.

“Daddy,” he said. “Dad!”

Charlene was beside me. She knelt, too. She hugged me tight. I fit my arms around them both. “I knew I’d find you guys. I knew you were okay. I never stopped looking, never stopped.”

Allison stepped into the room. She wiped tears away.

“Get down here,” I said, grabbing her arm.

“Hi, Allison,” Cash said.

She messed his hair. “Hey there, Cash.”

Charlene didn’t say hello, but she did let an arm snake around Allison’s shoulders.

# # #

I dumped crap out of my backpack. I snatched my phone charger for Charlene’s phone into the bag, then emptied canned goods from the cupboards. I snatched some jeans and shirts from my dresser and the kid’s dresser. The bag was popping-full, tough to zipper back up. I put batteries and my pocketknives into the front zipper area, and clipped one into the pocket of the pants I wore.

“I don’t know what else to grab,” I said.

The kids sat side-by-side on the sofa. Cash kicked his legs.

“I don’t think we have the time to worry about it,” Allison said.

“Where are we going, Dad,” Charlene said.

“Away from here,” I said. “Somewhere safe.”

They both smiled. Allison, too. I might have been, as well.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, dear.”

“I want to bring my ax,” Charlene said.

She walked to the door. It leaned against the jamb. She grabbed the handle. The blade was coated in blood.

I did not want my daughter to carry an ax. She was my little girl. She’d endured some tough situations, no doubt, but I was here. Daddy was here. She was safe.

She was safe.

Or was she. Were any of us?

She had used that ax to save not only herself, but Cash, too. She’d demonstrated a strength and maturity, and courage that most adults never exhibit.

I did not want my daughter to carry an ax, but instead of saying no, I said, “Of course, you can.”