Cash might still be asleep. Vulnerable.

She couldn’t even remember if she’d shut the bedroom door when she left. She may have. But maybe not.

“Charlene!”

It was Cash. He was up. Worse, she knew that tone. He was scared. The dead had found him.

She threw open the bathroom door.

And screamed.

A woman stood there. Dead. Where the whites of her eyes should have been, there was merely bloodshot red. The eye was clouded over with a thick, grey film. The woman’s flesh was purple, blue. She’d been dead a while. Whatever bit her did a good job at chunking out meat along her throat and shoulder. The worst was seeing bits of skin tissue stuck between the woman’s teeth like chicken, or asparagus.

Char raised the over-sized can of Aqua-net and the lighter and did her best to mimic what she’d seen in movies. The hairspray jetted out from the small white nozzle into the dead’s lifeless eyes. Under the spray, Char thumbed the lighter’s roller to life. With barely a spark, the Aqua-net became a flamethrower, and caught the dead’s hair and face on fire.

Dropping back, Char pulled away the lighter, brought her hands down onto the sink counter and jumped up and she kicked the woman in the gut with both feet, knocking her backward and down the stairs.

The hall was clear.

Except at the end.

At the opened bedroom door.

The room Cash was alone in.

A dead had just entered.

“Hey!” Char ran out of the bathroom. The dead turned to face her. She tried to light the lighter. While running, it was impossible. She dropped it, and the hairspray.

The dead raised arms and lunged toward her.

She dropped down onto one leg, as if sliding into second base, stretched her arms out behind her to get as slim and thin as possible as she passed between the dead’s legs. Feeling a little like a crochet ball, she got back onto her feet inside the bedroom. Cash stood on the bed, the axe in his hands ready to swing.

“Cash,” Char said, held out a hand to him.

She didn’t want his hand. And he knew it.

Cash tossed the axe her way. She caught it by the axe head, and swung just as the outsmarted dead came back into the room.

The blade cut through his temple, left eye, and the bridge of his nose as if his skull had been made of warm bread. Blood squirted and poured and finally just oozed as the dead fell to his knees.

Char let him fall face first onto the nice hardwoods before planting her foot on the back of his neck and twisting the blade out of his head, ignoring the slurp sound of the blade pulling free.

“Get your stuff, Cash. It’s time to move.”

Any other little brother might moan, might complain, might ask for breakfast first, or to get to watch some TV. Cash was different. Times were, too.

“Where are we going?”

“Same as everyone else. Mexico.” The virus wasn’t there. The Mexican government couldn’t afford the vaccinations for its people. Now, the walls our presidents built to keep illegal aliens out of America were being used to keep Americans out of Mexico. “They don’t have the dead there.”

“But what if some got in?”

It was possible. Probable. “They didn’t,” Char said. What else could she say? “Come on. We need to keep moving.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

West Ridge Road resembled a war zone. The I-390 over pass had cars bumper to bumper, up on the sidewalk, and facing the wrong direction. Shattered glass, a muffler, quarter panels and a rear bumper clogged most of the street. In short, the road looked like I felt. My head was cluttered. My hopes so high, I was forced to rein them in, settle them down. It was, after all, merely a guess. I had no idea if my kids were at my apartment, if Charlene would have thought to go there. It was what I wanted to believe, that if she was going to feel safe anywhere, it would be with me.

Dave led us. He climbed on hoods, slid down them, and up onto the next. I helped Allison, lending a hand for support, as she’d hoist herself up and over and down each vehicle. Then I’d labor my way over, and onto the next. We had little left. We must resemble zombies ourselves. We moved slow and sluggish, with jerking motions. We were covered in blood. Josh’s blood. Our own. We stunk of body odor, not death. Or maybe the stench of death was on us, and I’d just grown so used to it, I couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

“I can’t keep going,” Allison said. “I just can’t.”

I could see Stone Road. Three lights away. We were almost there.

“Please, dear. Please. We’re almost home,” I said.

She stopped. Her arms flat at her side. Her head cocked to one side. “Home? We’re almost home?”

I pursed my lips.

“Chase, we’re almost nowhere. We’ve gone in a huge circle. We’ve spent days going like fifteen miles. Days. We’ve walked. Run. We’ve driven, and in the last few days we’re only about four miles away from where we started. How in the hell are we going to make it to Mexico? On foot? We going to walk like two-thousand miles? We don’t know that Mexico is even safe, that there aren’t any zombies there. We saw that news report. The D.C. is in shambles. The military was setting up safe camps, but do we even know where they are? Do we even have a clue where one of them is located? We’re in New York, and we’re fucked, Chase. Fucked. I want you to get your kids. To have them with you. I want that. More than you might know, or even fucking believe, but home, Chase? Home?” She shook her head. She snickered. “I don’t think we’re almost home. I think we’re almost nowhere.”

“Guys,” Dave said.

I turned my attention his way. I saw what he saw. It was a mob. No other word described it. We’d encountered gangs, and managed to get by hordes, but what was ambling its way east along Ridge Road was nothing short of a mob of zombies. If the wind had been blowing in our direction, I’d guarantee we’d smell them. No way could that much rotting flesh go undetected, even by the laziest of nostrils.

“I love you, Allison.”

That stopped her. She closed her eyes. Her head shook slightly from side to side.

“We’re going to need to hide, or something,” Dave said.

“You what?” Allison said.

“Ah, guys?”

“I love you,” I said. “I think I’ve known it for a while. I just couldn’t say it. Wouldn’t let myself believe it, that it could happen to me. I don’t trust that emotion. Not even a little.”

“Say it again.” She smiled. Despite the mob. Despite the desperation of it all.

“I’m an ass, Alley. A fool. I could have lost you so many times by not telling you how I feel. And I wouldn’t have blamed you if you walked away from me. Wouldn’t hold it against you now. But, it’s important to me to tell you now that I love you. That I really don’t ever want to be without you. I’m in love with you.” I stood there. Not sure what I was waiting for. She told me all the time that she loved me. It had always been awkward. I never replied with anything shy of, give me a kiss, or you’re the best, baby.

Her arms shot up. They wrapped tight around my neck. Her lips puckered and planted tight on my mouth. “You have my heart, Chase. All of it. You always have. I’ve waited so long to hear you say it, that you love me.”

Inwardly, I sighed. “I love you.”

It felt good. Felt right. Telling her made my own heart skip a beat. Flutter.

“This is so cute, so freaking awesome. But, and maybe this is just me, if we don’t fucking move now, we’re, well, I guess, we’re . . . dead.”

I put my hands on Allison’s shoulders. “I need you. I love you, and I need you. We can do this. Together. It’s the only way we’re going to get through this. Any of it. All of it. Okay?”