The kids were still standing next to their car in shock, and my hands were on my head, my fingers knotted in my hair. “No. No!” I yelled the second time, in complete disbelief. I knew my car was gone, but with each passing second, the comprehension of everything that being without a car meant became more real. We were trapped, unable to travel on foot, and worse, every infected lingering on the highway would be enticed back into town by the explosion.
Just as that thought entered my head, I saw the first infected. One after another they stumbled down the street, until the irregular pattern turned into groups, and then an army of undead, moving as one unit, toward the street.
“Nathan?” Miranda said, her expression frozen in fear at the sight. She reached inside of her car and pulled out a rifle. The others did the same before slowly retreating to the porch, keeping their eyes on the dirty, bloody parade.
“Move slow,” Walter warned quietly as he and I backed away from the street to the house. “Don’t draw their attention over here.”
The kids were at least smart enough not to make any sudden movements. I glanced up at Zoe, who was watching with a blank face like it was something she’d seen a hundred times before. As a knee-jerk reaction, I thought about discussing her lack of reaction at Zoe’s next therapy session, but there would be no more counselors, or evaluations, or IEP plans.
It seemed that once we realized Zoe was not like other children our lives had been consumed with meetings and doctor’s appointments, care plans and behavior management. Life was difficult enough for those of us that could process stress and overstimulation normally. Even when we had what seemed like limitless tools to help Zoe head off or navigate the meltdowns, life would never be easy for her. A different panic emerged, one that we couldn’t run away from: those things we took for granted were no longer available. The recognition of that truth made a wave of dread wash over me. Zoe thrived on routine, and she was without treatment during this decimation of everything familiar. A plague that could last months, or years . . . or forever. Zoe would have to survive both.
“We could wait this out downstairs,” Walter said, pulling me back to the current problem. The break in his voice signaled that not even he believed his words.
I gripped the bag in my hand, thankful I’d taken it from the car. “We can’t stay here, Walter. With all of those things in town, it’s not safe.”
Joy’s eyes left me and settled on her husband, resigned. “Maybe it never was.”
Walter’s lips turned into a hard line. “Goddamnit. God damn those things.”
We all retreated inside the house. Joy scrambled around to pack, and the boys stood next to the windows to keep watch. Miranda and Ashley helped Joy put as much food as they could carry into bags, and then we met in the kitchen.
“I don’t . . . have a lot of room in my car,” Miranda said.
“My Taurus is in the garage,” Walter said, grabbing a set of keys hanging from a nail on the wall. The key ring was made of multi-color plastic that spelled ORLANDO.
“Okay, Zoe and I will ride with Walter and Joy. Problem solved.”
Miranda nodded nervously.
“They’re starting to fan out!” Bryce said.
A muffled, high-pitched yapping came from next door, and we all froze.
Joy blanched. “Dear Jesus, it’s Princess.”
Bryce and Cooper leaned against the windows to get a better look. Princess continued to bark excitedly at the horrifying procession. It didn’t take long for the first of them to notice the barking and veer away from the others.
“We can’t wait,” Bryce said. “We have to go now before any more come down this dead end.”
Miranda nodded, and then looked to me. “He’s right, Nate. It’s time to go.”
“But what about Princess?” Zoe asked.
Joy leaned down to Zoe with tears in her eyes. “We’ll come back for her, sweetie.”
Walter held out his hand to his wife, and we followed them to the garage. Miranda and Joey lifted the garage door while Ashley and Bryce loaded Joy’s bags into the trunk. Zoe and I settled into the backseat of the Taurus and waited for Walter to start the car. After a few seconds, the engine made a sickly whirring sound and then Walter turned to me.
“Walter?” I said.
“I . . . I don’t know. I just changed the oil and filter thinking we were headed to see Darla.”
“Try it again,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm.
“They’re coming!” Ashley cried.
“Shit. Shit!” Cooper yelled, pulling Ashley toward the house.
Walter tried the ignition again, but this time the Taurus’s engine wouldn’t even turn over. “M-maybe it’s the uh . . . alternator. I had trouble with it last year . . .”
“We don’t have time to figure it out, let’s go!” I said, opening the door and pulling Zoe with me.
Bryce and Joey were already fighting with a few infected by the time we made it inside. A shot was fired off, and then they were inside with us.
Cooper had a look of bewilderment on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said, a gun in his hand. “It almost bit Joey.”
I rushed to the window. More were filing down the street. Princess’s barks were at an even higher pitch as the infected climbed up onto her porch and pawed at the window where she stood. Bryce and Miranda pulled the refrigerator in front of the door in the kitchen that led to the garage. A dozen or more infected were on and around the porch, pounding on the front door and windows. The glass broke, and I threw Zoe over my shoulder. “The bedrooms! Go out the back!”
When we reached the bedroom, the kids were pulling the dresser in front of the bedroom door, and Joy was pulling a long, wooden stake from the bottom of the sliding door. She stood up and immediately panicked.
“Walter? Walter!” she screamed.
Walter was standing at the other patio door, trying his damnedest to slide open the glass. He had somehow gone one way when we went the other, and, unlike us, he had no one with him to barricade the bedroom door while he tried to escape to the backyard A group of infected appeared behind him. His eyes grew wide as they tore into him, but he kept trying to claw at the door, realizing too late that he’d failed to remove the wooden block they’d placed there for protection.
Joy was right behind me, and her loud screams for her husband made my right ear buzz. The infected mashed him against the glass, biting into him. He screamed, and the sound, although muffled, made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
“Walter!” Joy bawled, tears streaming down her face. She clawed at the glass, and then yanked the door open. She ran to the adjacent door, working in a panic to free her husband.
“Joy! Joy! Joy!” Zoe bawled, reaching for her friend. Her words bounced as each of my feet hit the ground. I held on to my daughter tight, afraid she would wriggle free.
Joey opened the back fence gate, and led the kids to the Bug.
I watched them squeeze in, and then Bryce shut the door.
It was then that I recognized our fate. “Please, take her,” I said, standing at the passenger door.
Miranda started the car.
Bryce looked past us to what was sure to be a mob of infected headed in our direction. “We don’t have room. I’m sorry.”
“Daddy, no!” Zoe screamed. She balled up her fists, gripping my shirt in her tiny hands so tightly that her arms shook.