I didn’t even bother to shut the Jeep door. The second my feet touched the ground, I broke into a sprint, only stopping until my hands hit the door.
“Dr. Hayes? It’s me! Scarlet!” The side of my fist pounded against the wooden frame of the screen door. “Dr. Hayes? It’s Scarlet! I’m not sick . . . please . . . please let me in.”
With every passing second, my relief and excitement turned to disappointment. He was a radiologist, for Christ’s sake, he had more than one beat-up pickup. Dr. Hayes and his girlfriend, Leah, only stayed there on his off week. The radiologists worked two weeks on, one week off, and they all had a farm or ranch they ran away to during those seven precious days. Leah was an attorney and lived two hours north. They usually had me clean the weekend before they met in the middle—the farmhouse. It was her Mercedes in the yard. They’d probably met here and then took the doctor’s car somewhere else. To get his daughters, maybe.
The light on the barn flickered and then turned off. I had nowhere else to go. I had to get inside.
I pulled open the door slowly, wincing at the loud creaking sound it made. The doorknob twisted and with caution, I pushed it open and listened. “Dr. Hayes?” I said softly, half hoping he wouldn’t hear me, and half hoping he would.
The house seemed untouched. When I’d checked every room and decided no one was home, I wandered to the back porch and hoisted myself onto the dryer, wondering what I needed to do to secure the house. Should I board up the windows? It wasn’t my house to alter, but even if Dr. Hayes made it back here with Miranda and Ashley, he might be glad some of the work had been done. My eyes drifted to the floor, and relief and fear hit almost simultaneously. There were muddy footprints in front of the door that led to the side patio. I hopped down off the dryer and looked out the Plexiglas that took up the top half of the door. Something was splattered on the concrete. Something sticky with chunks of something else—definitely vomit. The footprints led inside and to my right, down the stairs, and into the basement.
I’d cleaned the basement many times before. It was used for storage, was carpeted, painted, and not at all scary, but in that moment I was terrified to walk down those stairs.
I stared at the trail of mud and whatever else, and then finally took the first step. It complained under my foot, and I squeezed my eyes tight, hoping nothing jumped out at me as punishment for making a sound. When nothing happened, my eyes popped open, and I immediately searched for a weapon. The closest thing was a hammer sitting in a hand-held, red toolbox lying open on the floor. I quickly picked it up, making sure I had a good grip, and then descended the stairs, preparing myself for whatever might be down there.
If he’s alive, don’t hit him. Don’t just swing. Don’t just react. Those thoughts were on loop, getting louder with every step, which made it difficult to listen for anything that might signal I might actually need to swing in reaction.
The door opened, and I bent forward to look inside, immediately seeing a pair of legs lying flat on the floor. They were Leah’s, and even though I couldn’t see all of her, I could tell she was face down. After a quick glance to both sides, I stepped in, following the trail. Dr. Hayes was sitting back against the wall, a large wound in his neck, and a single gunshot hole in his temple. One of his many handguns was at his side, next to his open, lifeless hand. Leah also had a head wound, similar to Dr. Hayes’s, but her chin and chest were covered in blood, and the missing piece from Dr. Hayes’s neck was peeking from her mouth.
Blood was sprayed in several directions: on the open gun safe in the corner, the wall, and floor. From what I could tell, Dr. Hayes had come to the basement to get a gun for protection, but Leah had apparently caught him in the act, and attacked him. She must have turned quick. He must have been running from her. I imagined that he knew he was infected, so after shooting her, he’d killed himself. It made sense.
Suddenly I felt very alone. It hadn’t crossed my mind that the ranch would be devoid of anybody else. His daughters weren’t here. Leah was dead. Would the rest of his family try to make it to this safe haven? Miranda and Ashley were supposed to visit this weekend. Maybe they were already on their way. If not, maybe they would have the same idea I had and come here anyway with their mother. The ranch was obviously the best place to be, and even though they didn’t visit as often, Dr. Hayes, like every girl’s father, was their protector. It made sense for them to try to make it here. That was my hope, anyway.
Dr. Hayes was just smiling about his daughters visiting the morning before. I couldn’t believe he was sitting in a pool of his own blood just a few feet from me. It was so surreal, I couldn’t find an emotion to attach to the situation. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the gruesome scene until it finally dawned on me that if the girls did reach the ranch, they could see their father like this.
“Damnit,” I said. My mind went on an inexplicable memory search for every time I’d seen the doctor eat a donut. He was a stout man, and I had no idea how I was going to pull him up the stairs.
I walked over to the mess and picked up the pistol off the floor. The safety was off. With my foot, I nudged Leah’s hip, pointing the gun at the back of her head. A rather large exit wound was visible, but I didn’t want any surprises. She rocked forward, and then didn’t move again, prompting me to click on the gun’s safety feature.
Satisfied they weren’t going to attack me, I walked upstairs—gun in hand—through the house to the front porch. I stood on the wood deck, taking stock of my surroundings, trying to decide what I should do first.
A sudden wave of exhaustion came over me, and I sat on the steps so hard that I hurt my ass. I’d made it. We had said this was the place to come if an apocalypse happened. It happened, and I was here. Without my girls.
I shook off the thought, refusing to shed another tear. They were on their way here, and I had to get this place ready for them. There was definitely plenty of work to do, but I knew I would collapse soon, and certain precautions needed to be taken so I could fall asleep safely. There were old boards in the barn, but the bull was in there, too. Securing the windows and the perimeter and burying Leah and the doctor would have to be done before I could sleep. All of that would likely take all day. I stood up and took a deep breath, wondering how much more I could push my body before it just couldn’t go any longer.
I walked around the back to the shed and found a shovel, and then found a nice spot under the big maple tree on the south side of the house, and began to dig.
Nathan
My eyes bulged and I blinked, trying to clear them so I could figure out where we were. I’d just had the mother of all nightmares, and Zoe was still in my arms asleep, but I could tell from the musty smell that we weren’t home.
When the room finally came into focus, feelings of both relief and dread came over me. The dread overpowered the relief without effort. We were running for our lives. Jill was either dead or would be soon, my wife was gone, and Zoe and I were on the run.
To my right were the old couple, Walter and Joy. Walter was asleep in his recliner, snoring. He would suck air in through his nose, and then blow it out from his mouth, the air building up until it escaped from his lips. Joy was awake, watching me with a smile.
“He’s always done that,” she said quietly. “Used to drive me nuts. Now it’s relaxing.”