“You don’t want me to have a gun,” she said.

“You’re right. I don’t. Wish things could be like they were before. When there were no…no zombies. That’s not where we are anymore, honey. We’re far, far away from that place, from that time. I don’t want you to have a gun, but what happened to your brother—that wasn’t your fault. You’ve shown me over and over that you are responsible, and that you can handle the truth and handle what is going on. I don’t want you to have a gun, but Char, I need you to have one,” I said.

“Chase! Chase!”

It was Erway. Charlene and I locked eyes.

We left the weapons room and ran back for the bedroom. Erway was at the door. “He’s awake.”

I studied her expression. She gave nothing away.

Charlene grabbed my hand. It wasn’t subtle. She was telling me there was no way she wasn’t coming into the room this time.

We walked in. I pointed to the right side of the bed. Charlene went there. “Hey, little brother,” she said.

She couldn’t hold it together. The tears rolled down her cheeks, but she smiled. She wore a mask made of smiles.

I took the left side of the bed and knelt there. Took his hand. “Hey, buddy,” I said.

“Dad,” he said.

“Yeah, Cash, what?”

“Did you kill my mother?”

It wasn’t the question that I expected. I stared at him, felt Charlene staring at me.

“You came looking for us, right?”

“Of course, I did,” I said.

“Where did you go, when you were looking for us?” His words came out slow. A whisper. His lips were dry, cracked. “Where did you look for us? You went to Mom’s house, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Cash, I did.”

“When you got there, did you kill my mom?”

I looked up and over at Charlene. She seemed to wait for the answer, too. They did not need to hear the truth.

“No,” I said. “I did not. I didn’t kill her.”

Charlene’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t believe me.

I saw it in my head. Their mom on the bed, the shattered picture frame on the hardwood floor. I used a shovel. Tried to flatten her skull with it, but swing after swing had done little to stop her until I used the blade of the shovel and separated most of her head from her shoulders.

I cringed. The memory felt horrible, and knew I’d relive it time and again once this nightmare ended. If it ever ended.

I had to give more. “When I got there, we searched the house for you guys. For the two of you. We found your mom’s husband,” I said.

“I had to chop his hand off,” Charlene said. Was she smiling?

“We killed him. We had too. But when I was upstairs, I found your mother,” I said. “She was in one of the bedrooms, looking at a picture of you kids…”

She had been in a bedroom looking at a picture.

The zombies at the fence had figured out how to climb higher by standing on corpses like step stools.

“Dad,” Charlene said.

I hadn’t killed their mother. What I did might have been worse. Don’t think I ever expected them to ask me about it. Not sure, I’d have handled it differently, regardless. “I left her there,” I said. “I closed the bedroom door. I left her in the room with pictures of you two.”

“Do you think that made her happy,” Cash said.

I closed my eyes. “Yes, buddy. I think that made her happy. She has memories of you guys to keep her happy.”

Memories. In her infected state, did she have memories? Was it possible?

“Is he sleeping?” Charlene said. “Dad?”

I watched his chest. It didn’t rise. It didn’t fall. “Erway,” I said. “He’s not breathing!”

Chapter Twenty-Four

I’d been sound asleep when Julie woke me up with a nudge. Working two jobs, when I had time to sleep, I slept.

“What is it?” I’d whispered. Don’t think I’d even opened my eyes.

“The baby,” my ex-wife had said. Charlene was five years old. Hardly a baby.

“What does she want?”

“Not Charlene. This baby,” she said.

I opened my eyes. Julie had the bedroom light on. She was dressed, her packed bag for the hospital by the door. “Is it time?”

She shrugged. “Contractions started about an hour ago. They’re less than three minutes apart already.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I said, lifting myself up onto an elbow.

“If it was nothing, I would have let you sleep. I assumed they wouldn’t get so close together so soon.” She stood by her bag, with one hand on the doorknob.

“Doctor told us the second delivery will be faster than the first. Your body already knows the routine. Dilating and effacing,” I said, and threw off the bedspread. “I have time to shower?”

“I don’t think so. I waited as long as I could.”

I picked up the phone, “I’ll call our parents and get Charlene ready. You sit down, just rest. Try to relax.”

A contraction must have hit, because her face contorted. She gave the doorknob a white-knuckle grip. She breathed quick, shallow breaths in a steady rhythm.

I jumped up and led her back to the bed. “Sit, please. Just sit.”

I called my mother first. She said she’d call Julie’s parents. Everyone would meet at the hospital.

“Okay. Keep doing your breathing. I’m going to dress Charlene,” I said. I went from our room to Charlene’s. We’d need a bigger place. This two-bedroom ranch was not going to cut it. Having Charlene sleep in her own room only just happened. With a crib in there now, she’d never get any rest while sharing space with a baby.

I stood over her bed. She was balled up under blankets. Strands of hair were sticky with sweat and stuck to her face. A hug-pillow was between her arms. The hug-pillow that I’d bought for her. I had one, too. So when she slept in her own bed like a big girl, she could hug her pillow, and I would hug mine, and it would be like we were napping together. It didn’t just make her happy; it made me happy.

I wondered how happy she’d be to have a little brother or sister?

I peeled back the blanket, but she didn’t stir. “Charlene,” I said. “Honey?”

Her eyelids fluttered before opening. “Daddy?”

“We need to get up, get ready. Mommy is going to have the baby today.”

Her eyes opened wider and she sat up. “The baby’s coming now?”

I nodded.

She got right out of bed. I watched, amazed, as she changed her clothes and grabbed her suitcase on wheels. “I’m ready!”

“What’s in the suitcase?” I said.

“I have toys, puzzles, books, sippy-boxes and snacks. Mommy said it could take a long time, so I should pack things to keep me busy.”

I kissed her nose. “Mommy is a genius!”

The hospital was less than seven miles away. It took us nearly twenty minutes to get there. It was just after midnight, so there was no traffic. We did catch every red light, but mainly because I drove thirty miles an hour, and as soon as I saw amber light, I slowed to a stop. Was I a little apprehensive about getting into an accident? Yeah, you could say I was.

We pulled into Emergency. At the sliding doors, I stopped the car. I helped both women out and grabbed a lone wheelchair. “Sit. I’m going to park right over there,” I said. “Char, take care of your mom until I get back.”

I parked, hurried over the sliding doors and pushed Julie into the hospital, her bag on my shoulder, while Charlene followed alongside, wheeling her suitcase.

“Chase,” Julie said in a whisper. I lowered my head as I wheeled us to the front desk, past security. “I haven’t felt the baby since we left the house.”

“He’s resting between contractions,” I said.

“Chase, something’s wrong.”

I stopped at the desk. The woman there stared at the three of us. My wife had her hand on her bulbous belly.

“We need to see a doctor. Our doctor. Julie, did you tell our doctor we were coming to the hospital?”