“What the hell are you doing? What if he shoots at us?” Cooper said.
“Help us!” Bryce said, ignoring Cooper.
The man on the roof signaled for us to come around to the backside of the church, and then pointed at his gun.
“He’s going to cover us. Let’s go. Let’s go!” Bryce said, getting back in.
Without hesitation, I slammed my foot against the accelerator, and the Bug surged forward. Within moments, we were bouncing across the street and into the church lawn. The man held up his hand, palm out, and then turned to point, directing us.
I parked the Bug in the back of the church, and then jumped out, pulling up my seat for Ashley. “Go. Go!” I said, watching every undead thing on the side of the church turn in our direction and begin their approach.
The back door of the church opened, revealing the man from the roof. He turned the bolt lock as soon the last of us was inside. The room was full of scared people, the mother and her children, another woman, two other little boys, and five men: the man that saved us, two middle-aged men, and two older men.
“Thank you so much,” I said to the man who let us in. “We needed a place to stay for the night.”
“Skeeter McGee,” he said, holding out his hand. I shook it, and he nodded to Cooper, Bryce, and Ashley, and then turned to one of the middle-aged men. “Gary, we’re going to have to nail the boards back up on the door upstairs. Just one board this time.”
Gary nodded, and then turned, disappearing down a dark hall. His footsteps echoed back into the kitchen, and then the hammering started.
Everyone in the room traded glances, and then Skeeter tended to a woman on the floor. She looked near death, and a white, foamlike drool was dripping from the side of her mouth to the blanket she was lying on.
“Was Annabelle . . . ?” the older woman said.
“Not yet,” Skeeter answered.
“That’s good news. Maybe Jill won’t come back as one of those things. Or maybe she’ll get better. We just don’t know, Skeeter. Please don’t do anything rash.”
“You don’t have to bullshit me, Doris,” he told her. He ran his large fingers through Jill’s damp, blond hair, and whispered something in her ear.
Doris looked at us. “Bless your hearts. You from Anderson?”
“We go to the university in Greenville. My father has a ranch northwest of here. We didn’t really want to travel after dark.”
Doris nodded with understanding. “Can’t say I blame you. You kids want some water?” she asked, already making her way to the refrigerator. She handed us all bottles of water, and we wasted no time tipping our bottles back.
“Your father has a ranch close to here?” Skeeter asked.
Ashley smiled. “Red Hill Ranch.”
Skeeter nodded. “I’ve hunted over there. That’ll be a good place for you.”
Gary returned from the hallway, hammer in hand.
Everyone settled in as best they could. Doris comforted the mother and her children, Skeeter alternated between checking on his wife and checking the windows in the other room. They all gasped and traded glances when a new person was seen ambling around outside with the rest. Fairview was a tiny town. It made sense that they all knew each other. I wondered who the woman on the floor was to Skeeter, and what her life was like before she was bitten. Even with her sweaty, bluish skin, and the dark around her eyes, it was obvious that she was beautiful.
The man they called Bob pointed to the next room. “The sanctuary is in there. Plenty of places to sit.”
“Thank you,” I said, accepting his invitation.
Two more women, quite a bit older, were seated in pews. I chose one in the front and sat nearest the center aisle, farthest away from the broken windows. Even if they were boarded, hearing the dead ones trying to get in was unnerving.
Bryce sat on one side of me, Ashley on the other. Cooper sat beside my sister, and took her hand in his. We all let out a collective sigh of relief.
I let my head rest against Bryce’s shoulder, and he rested his head against mine. After everything we’d seen, and everything we’d been through, I didn’t think I would be able to sleep, but the longer I sat on the hard, cold, wooden pew, the more comfortable I became—and the harder it was to keep my eyes open. I shifted, prompting Bryce to turn his head slightly to kiss my temple.
“It’s okay. Go to sleep. We’re safe now.”
“It’s never going to be safe again,” I whispered, trying not to let the words trigger more tears.
“Safe enough to get some rest,” he whispered back. “Now close your eyes, Miranda. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
“Once we get to Red Hill, we’ll be all right, right?”
“Your dad is probably there now, scared to death, wondering where you are. He’s going to be so happy to see you and your sister. We’ll be far away from everything, with a stocked pantry and your dad’s crazy gun collection. We’re going to be just fine.”
With his words, I let my eyes close, and the heaviness of sleep engulf me.
Chapter Eleven
Scarlet
The houses surrounding Andrew’s were dark and abandoned like the others. I walked across the street, devoid of cars and people. The incline of Andrew’s driveway made me feel like I was trudging up a steep mountain face after the stretch I’d just sprinted. Careful not to let my shoes crunch too loudly against the gravel beneath them, I took gentle steps and paused at the gate. It whined as I pushed through it, and I slowly walked the ten steps or so to Andrew’s back door. I’d only walked this patch of earth a handful of times since Andrew had moved in.
After the divorce, he could no longer afford the two-story fixer-upper we’d purchased in the next town over and moved to the converted two-bedroom, former duplex. It was literally on the wrong side of the tracks, nestled deep in the west side of Anderson, where a meth-lab raid was not uncommon.
Andrew was humbled by the move and the divorce, and he surprised us all during his visitation weekends. Slowly the yelling stopped. The bullying was replaced with short bursts of mild annoyance or long sighs. I wasn’t sure if being away from the girls for most of the month helped to quell his rages, or if it was my absence that offered him peace.
I climbed the two steps to Andrew’s back door, and tapped on the Plexiglas on the top half of the door. A curtain hid the inside from view. I tapped again, then tried to turn the knob. It was locked.
My heart pounded so hard in anticipation that I could feel it in my throat.
The windows on each side of the house and the one beside the front door were locked, too. I slapped the dining room window with my hand. “Andrew! Jenna! Halle? It’s Mommy! Are you here?”
Nothing.
I pressed my ear to the glass and listened. The silence triggered tears, and my bottom lip quivered. I leaned in harder, the coldness of the window offsetting the burning sensation the pressure ignited throughout my ear. My eyes clenched shut as I silently begged someone inside to relieve my fears.
Finally, I pulled away from the window, looking down the street. A tear welled up and broke free, sliding down my cheek. I wiped it, and as I did, my elbow bumped into the glass. Without a second thought, I reared back and let my elbow make contact with the glass a second time, the corner of my bones an extension of all of the frustration and fear pulsing through my body. The window shattered. It wasn’t as loud as I thought it would be. Large chunks broke off, some falling inside the dining room, and some at my feet.