Zoe screamed, and then another shot rang out, this one not far from my ear. All sound merged into a single, solid ringing noise. Skeeter had shot the . . . thing . . . in the face, and shoved past me with Jill on one arm and the survival bags on the other. He yelled something to me, but I couldn’t hear him. The only thing I could hear was the ringing.

Skeeter finally pointed and motioned for me to follow. I grabbed Zoe’s hand and shut the door behind us, hoping whatever was coming through the bedroom window would have trouble with doorknobs.

Miranda

ONCE WE GOT TO THE ranch, we would be safe. That was what I kept telling Ashley while trying to keep the Bug from getting stuck—on or off the highway. Daddy would be there waiting for us. He was a crack shot, and Bryce had been hunting with him enough over the years that he was getting pretty good, too. I had teased my dad so many times about his ridiculous collections of firearms and ammunition. No one needs this many. It’s like a car collection. It’s a waste, I would say. But because of my dad’s silly obsession we would have weapons, the kitchen cabinets and pantry would be well stocked, we would have well water, and Butch—my dad’s bull. He didn’t like anyone in the yard. Not even us. If we let him out, we’d have our own security system. Red Hill Ranch was the best place to ride this out.

All we had to do was make it there, and we were in like Flynn.

We’d all tried our cell phones. Different numbers. Even 911, but we all got the same busy signal, or out-of-range signal, as Bryce called it.

“The towers must be down,” he said.

“Well, that’s just great,” Ashley said. “I can’t get Internet, either!”

“Trust me,” I said. “No one is checking your Facebook status right now.”

“For the news,” she snapped, irritated with my joke.

“I’m going to take this exit. Take a back way. The interstate isn’t getting any better, and if I keep driving in the median and the shoulder I’ll end up blowing a tire.”

Bryce frowned. “We’ve only got another twenty miles until the Anderson exit. The interstate is the fastest way to your dad’s.”

“It used to be. Now we’re bypassing hundreds of cars stuck or stalled and trying not to run anyone over.” Ironically, just as I said that, an older man stepped out between cars. He leaped back just as I passed. I wasn’t slowing down. Not even for the terrified people who were now on foot and crying out for us to save them.

“Miranda,” Ashley said, her voice small. “They’re not all sick. We can help them.”

“Help them how, exactly? Give them a ride? We’re in a Bug, Ashley, we don’t have any room.”

“Ash,” Cooper said, trying his best soothing voice, “she’s right. Everyone is afraid. If we stop, someone might take our vehicle from us.”

“I’m taking this exit,” I warned, glancing over at Bryce.

“Stay on the interstate!” Bryce barked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

He wasn’t trying to be a jerk. I couldn’t blame him; leaving the interstate was choosing something unknown. Anything unknown in this mess was downright terrifying. Staying on the same road as thousands of others who had the same goal of survival was less daunting somehow. We weren’t alone in our terror, and passing all of these people with the only working car on the road was both scary and comforting. We had the advantage. We were the safest out here where no one was safe.

Against my better judgment, I passed the exit and continued on the shoulder, weaving between people, cars, and zombies, and hoping my tires would hold out for another twenty miles. I wasn’t normally a pushover; as a matter of fact, most who knew me thought I could be fairly difficult. But the one person I was always able to depend on was Bryce, and in that moment, I needed to believe I wasn’t the only one who could make a sensible decision.

Growing up, with my dad always working, and mom preoccupied with new ways to get his attention, I felt like the only grown-up in the house. Ashley leaned on Mom so much that there wasn’t really an opportunity for me to be coddled. Ashley was so delicate. She had inherited that trait from my mother. Every obstacle was a tragedy, every struggle a death sentence. I could never understand why they were so susceptible to stress, and I eventually decided that my dad had accepted long ago that it was just part of his wife’s personality. He thought it was better if we kept Mom and Ashley from getting even remotely overwhelmed. We let them believe that no matter what came along, together Dad and I had it under control. Dad would manage Mom. I would handle Ashley. Now that Mom was remarried, the endless reassurances and heroic displays of patience were Rick’s responsibility—keeping Ashley’s emotional meltdowns in check was still mine. I was better at it some days than others, but when our parents shocked us with the news of the divorce, it seemed right that Ashley had their attention. She was the one who needed them most.

When Bryce and I decided we were more than friends, it just felt natural—and a little bit of a relief—to rely on him. Most times I felt he was more my family than my parents, or even Ashley. But even so, it wasn’t that romantic sort of love that Ashley and Cooper had. Ours was a friendship, first. We almost treated our relationship like a duty, and I liked it that way. I guess Bryce did, too.

“We can exit at Anderson,” Bryce said, trying not to see the stranded people on the side of the road.

Chapter Seven

Scarlet

WE WALKED CAREFULLY ALONG THE river once again, this time on the other side of the bridge, making our way to a large, familiar tree. Just as I had said, there was a rope hanging from a thick branch. The rope was tattered and looked frail. We wouldn’t know how frail until we were swinging above the cold river water. The streetlights on each side of the bridge fell just short of where we stood. Good for hiding from soldiers—bad for swimming. With just a half-moon above, the water wasn’t just dirty, it was black like the night had settled inside of it. As if that wasn’t frightening enough, shufflers didn’t need to breathe, I imagined. That was probably why the soldiers were shooting at floating corpses, just to make sure they didn’t reanimate and crawl onto the shore and into town.

I shivered.

“You’re freezing,” Tobin said, removing his jacket. “Take this.” He held it out. I just watched him for a moment until he shook it once. It was covered in mud, but it was lined with wool. It would still help to fend off the cold. “Take it.”

Tobin huffed, clearly annoyed with my hesitation, and then draped the jacket around my shoulders.

“Thank you,” I said, hoping it was loud enough for him to hear. I slipped my arms into the sleeves, and then rolled them up so they didn’t swallow my hands. I would need them for the trip across the night.

With Tobin’s help, I crawled up the bark. The initial climb was tougher than I remembered. Back then climbing a tree was nothing. I hadn’t climbed anything in years. Tobin’s breath skipped while he struggled to keep his balance underneath me. I made it to the first branch, and then used the rest as a ladder until I reached the one just under the branch with the rope.

Tobin was breathing a bit harder than he had a few minutes before.

“Really?” I said. “I’m not that heavy.”

“No, ma’am.” He put his hands on his hips while he caught his breath. “You’re not. I’m just out of shape, and it’s been a long-ass day.”

I nodded. “That it has. Have you ever done this before?”

Tobin shook his head. His short cornrows moved with the motion, making it a little easier to gauge his nonverbal responses in the dark.