I stayed as long as I did to protect the girls. The only person that stood between them and Andrew during one of his rages was me. When he would chase Jenna up the stairs and scream in her face, I would chase after him. I would hold him back, out of her room. His anger would be redirected at me so Jenna wouldn’t have to be afraid in her own home.

But he didn’t beat me. No, he did not.

Sometimes I wished that he had, so at least that was something I could offer my mother. A tangible sacrifice to lay at her feet so she could see that selfishness or something as shallow as boredom didn’t influence my decision. She might allow me that excuse instead of taking Andrew’s side and commiserating with him about what a horrible person I was to live with, and how they had that in common.

Our home was so quiet now, and the slamming doors and screaming were replaced with laughter and yes, persistent arguing between the girls. But in the next hour they would be snuggling on the couch. Their home was a safe haven. I owed that to them after what Andrew and I had put them through.

I put my hand on the knob and turned, unsure of what to expect. Mema, my mother’s mother, was refreshingly neutral. She simply nodded when I told her my marriage had ended, and said that Jesus loved me, and to keep the girls in church. Nothing else really mattered to her.

The door moved slowly. Part of me braced for something to jump out from the shadows, and the other prepared my heart to see something awful. But when the door opened to reveal their tiny bedroom, with their four-post bed and dated wallpaper, I let out the breath I’d been holding. The bed was made. They hadn’t been in it, yet.

Just as quickly as the relief washed over me, it left. They would’ve been in bed by now. They weren’t home. That meant they had been collected, and if it was by the soldiers, the girls were more than likely not at Andrew’s, either. A sob caught in my throat. I refused to cry until there was something to cry about.

The picture in the hall grabbed my attention. The Jeep waiting for me on the outskirts of town didn’t have the same wallet-size photo of my daughters that the Suburban did. It didn’t have their drawings and school papers littering the floorboard. I reached up and grabbed the frame, and then threw it on the ground, letting it crash. Quickly pulling the picture from beneath the shards of glass, I folded it twice, and slid it snugly into my bra. Every photo album we had was sitting in a hutch cabinet at home. Their baby pictures, snapshots of birthdays and of them playing outside. It was all left behind. The picture poking into my skin might be all I had left.

I bolted from the house and let the screen door slam as I ran into the street. Tobin was standing on Tavia’s steps, holding himself up with her door.

I stared at him, and he stared back. She wasn’t home, either, and neither was little Tobin. “I’ll try to come back and get you.”

Tobin offered a small, understanding smile. “No you won’t. And you shouldn’t, anyway. I’d just slow you down.”

I watched him for a moment, seeing no judgment in his eyes. “My grandparents have a lot of meds in their bathroom. Ibuprofen, painkillers, Ex-Lax. The door is open. You’re welcome to it.”

Tobin managed a small laugh. “Thank you. I hope you find your girls.”

“I will,” I said, turning and breaking into a sprint. The next block was Main Street. It was well lit, the main road of Anderson, and boasted the only four stoplights in town. A four lane with room to spare on each side for parking, the road was wide, and didn’t offer much in the way of cover. I had so much momentum going when the streetlamp on the corner revealed my presence like an escaped convict, I just kept going, hoping I was lucky enough that no one would see. I flew across the street and the sidewalk, and cut across the funeral parlor’s back parking lot, shooting down the alley. A broken chair was right around the corner, and before I even thought to jump, my legs were already pushing me up and over.

My tennis shoes and scrubs were wet and weighed down with mud, but knowing my girls were just a few miles away, my legs carried me like I was weightless.

Tobin called to me from blocks away. “Go, Scarlet! You will find them! You will! Go!”

My legs ran faster than they ever had before, even in high school when I attempted track and wanted to please my mother so much that I ran until my lungs felt they would burst. Still, I was always the slowest, always the one left behind. But not that night. That night, I could fly.

The old railroad station came into view, and I skipped over the rails, and then surged past the remnants of the brick and mortar that displayed the word ANDERSON. The letters were dirty and rusted like my hometown had become. I glanced back just once before crossing the street. Even though sweat poured into my eyes, and my lungs could barely keep up, I wouldn’t stop. Three more blocks to my babies. They would be there. They would.

I cut down an alleyway, getting a second wind when I felt the familiar gravel crunch under my feet. A dog barked, and I smiled. Not a single dog could be heard on the other side of town. The soldiers hadn’t reached this side yet. Jenna and Halle would be waiting for me and I would take them into my arms and squeeze them so tight that nothing else would matter. The craziness outside the city limits would disappear.

I reached the end of the alley, across from Andrew’s house. His detached garage and drive were directly in front of me, but his white Tahoe was absent. My chest heaved, and my guts lurched, purging the rattled remnants in my stomach.

Chapter Ten

Nathan

“THAT’S YOU, BROTHER, LET’S GO!” Skeeter said, running to a window. His head moved in every direction as he tried to get a good look. “Two cars! Right out front!”

Someone outside yelled, and I could see a large group of the dead peel off the wall and amble toward the street.

I ran to the door and pressed my ear against the door. No scratching, no rubbing noises. No moans.

“Zoe?” I called.

Zoe jogged to my side. I positioned her behind me and grabbed the knob.

“Wait!” Zoe cried, looking at her aunt Jill, who was lying lifeless on the floor, aside from her eyes. They were forcing themselves open, bloodshot and weeping, but alert.

“Zoe, we have to go,” I said, holding her wrist.

“I love you!” Zoe cried. She was just a child, but she knew that she wouldn’t see her aunt again. “I love you, Aunt Jill!” Tears streamed down Zoe’s cheeks as she reached out to her aunt, pulling against my grip.

Jill wore a faint smile. The veins had become more visible under her skin: blue, slithering lines, branching off and covering her like the virus spreading through her body. A single tear slipped down Jill’s cheek and dripped to the blanket beneath her.

Skeeter rushed to Zoe, pulling her into his arms. “Don’t cry, lil’ bit.” He placed his thumb under her chin and lifted her eyes to his. “I’m going to take care of Jillybean, mmkay? You know how much Uncle Skeeter loves Aunt Jill, don’tcha?”

Zoe nodded, and her eyebrows pulled together.

Skeeter smiled and hugged her to him once more. “We love you, Zoe. Listen to your Daddy. He’s going to take good care of you. Be quiet, now.” Zoe’s fingers pressed into Skeeter’s shoulders. Skeeter let her go and stood. “Go, Nate. Go now.”

I nodded, put my car keys in my mouth, shoved the clip into the AR, cocked it, and opened the door. I leaned out to take a quick look. It was clear. I nodded to Zoe, and then nodded to Skeeter. He winked at me, and I ran, tugging Zoe along with me.

Crossing the street, I saw a black Jeep Wrangler speeding away toward Anderson. I didn’t wait to see if those things would follow.