"My dad and I have had our ups and downs," I said, keeping my voice low and steady. "But if you try to make him pick between you or me, you'll lose."
I pulled open the bedroom door and walked out, passing the den where Halle and Tobin were sleeping soundly.
When I got to the kitchen, April was sitting at the rectangular table, sipping her coffee by candlelight. "Morning," she said, watching me with knowing eyes. "Your dad's outside."
"I know," I said, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table.
April's long hair was pulled up into a bun at the crown of her head. She had changed into an oversized white oxford and capri jeans with white slip-ons. She noticed me taking in her appearance, and she glanced down to her shirt. "It's Dean's. Probably weird, but I was looking through our closet for something to wear, and I just pulled it right off the hanger." I didn't respond. She continued, "I slept with a pile of his dirty clothes last night. Now, that's bizarre." She chuckled to herself and then began to cry.
Halle stumbled in with narrow eyes and wild hair, clumsily trying to put on her glasses as she made her way to the table.
"We've got to find you a brush," I said, pulling her onto my lap.
"What's for breakfast?" she said with a raspy voice.
Air so foul it should have been bright green wafted from her mouth to my nose, and in reaction, I turned my head.
"We've got to find you some toothpaste, too!"
She giggled and rested her cheek on my shoulder. Normally, she wasn't that affectionate with me. After Halle came home from spending the weekend at Dad's, she would wallow in Mom until she was finally ordered to bed, and even then, she'd ask for Mom to come to bed with her to snuggle. Dad wasn't an affectionate person by nature, so Mom had been the one who satisfied Halle's need for hugs, kisses, rocking, and holding. After Halle had come into the world, she had demanded everyone's attention, and I'd learned to live without it for the most part.
It occurred to me that Halle and I weren't really that affectionate at all, not since she was a toddler. Now, she was curled up in my lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"I can make you something," April said. "What would you like? The other kids will wake up hungry, too."
"Do you have biscuits and gravy?" she asked.
"I do," April said, standing.
I stood up, bringing Halle with me. "Come with me. We'll find a way to get all those rats out of your hair and some toothpaste."
"I don't have a toothbrush," Halle said.
I held up my index finger, making motions back and forth, while I bared my teeth.
"With my finger? No!" she whined.
"C'mon," I said, using her shoulders to guide her like Mom used to do.
We walked into the hallway to find the bathroom. I flipped on the light and closed the door.
April had given us the tour before bedtime the previous night, and I was glad that between eight kids and five adults, there was more than one bathroom. April had one in her room, too. She'd also said that because this room had only one window that was small and up high, it was okay to turn on the light but only during the day when the sun was bright, and it wouldn't draw attention.
The first drawer I pulled open had dozens of scattered ponytail holders, barrettes, and bows along with a comb and a brush. I imagined it was the bathroom where April would get her daughter ready.
Halle brushed her hair while I searched the other drawers. I found half a tube of toothpaste, a purple mermaid toothbrush, and a Spider-Man toothbrush. In the back of a drawer was a package of new toothbrushes. I was afraid if I asked, April would say no, so I opened the package, pulled out a toothbrush, and squeezed out a dab of the minty green gel.
"What are you doing?" Halle hissed.
"There are eight kids, and this package has four toothbrushes in it. Do the math," I said before scrubbing my teeth.
"You're stealing! At least ask!"
"Halle, you need to learn something right now. This is not going to be fixed tomorrow. Things are going to get worse, a lot worse, before they get better. You need to learn to take what you need now and say you're sorry later, especially if it's just a toothbrush!"
"No," Halle said, shaking her head. "We're not supposed to steal, especially not from people who are trying to help us."
"It's not stealing. It's borrowing."
Halle pressed her lips together, glaring at the toothbrush when I held it out to her. Her hair was brushed but poofy at the bottom and greasy at the roots.
"Brush your teeth," I demanded, pointing the toothbrush at her.
She grabbed it from me, holding it, while I squeezed the tube of toothpaste.
After a few spits into the sink, she rinsed out her mouth and wiped the water off with her arm.
I glanced at the overhead light. "I wonder how long the water and electricity will last?"
"What do you mean?" Halle asked, still frowning.
"It takes people to keep those things running. If everyone's infected, who's running it?"
"Everyone's not infected."
Someone knocked on the door, making us both jump.
"Are you about finished?" Connor asked, his voice muffled through the door.
"Coming right out!" I called, taking the toothbrush from Halle and corralling her to the door.
When I opened the door, I noticed that Connor had dark circles under his eyes, and his skin was pale, making his freckles stand out even more.
"Are you all right?" I asked.
"I didn't sleep great."
"Nightmares?" I asked.
"None of your business."
I stepped to the side and held Halle's shoulders as he passed by us and then shut the door.
"He's cranky in the mornings," Halle said.
"He misses his parents, and sometimes, it's easier to be angry."
We made our way back to the kitchen where April was spooning out gravy into bowls full of biscuits. Brad, Darla, Madelyn, and Logan were already seated, chatting about how good the food smelled.
Dad came in and locked the door behind him. The heaviness had left his face. "I found some metal posts we can use," he said to the adults. "We'll talk about it after breakfast."
April handed him a bowl.
"Thank you. Smells great."
"Here's a glass of juice," Tavia said, offering it to him.
"Thank you," he said, taking the drink and his bowl to the table.
As he sat down to eat, it occurred to me what a hot commodity he was. He wasn't ugly. He wasn't attached. He could shoot a gun and build things. Except for the fearless rifle-wielding widower who had been multitasking, taking out the undead while burying his wife, there was a very good chance that my dad was the only non-dead single male within miles. He might as well be Brad Pitt.
I tried not to throw up my breakfast. April and Tavia needed him, and they would make it really hard for him to want to leave. I had my work cut out for me, and I needed Halle on my side.
"IT'S NOT THAT FAR," Brad said, trying to whisper. "We'll probably run out of gas halfway there. We'll walk the rest of the way."
I rubbed my eyes and blinked until my vision wasn't blurry anymore. All the adults were standing near the French doors in the back with Madelyn and Logan. Darla had worry in her eyes, but she was smiling.
"Brad," Dad said with concern in his voice, "I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but what's the rush? Let's try to get together some more gas for you, so you can make it the whole way--or at least most of it."
"What's going on?" I asked.
All heads turned in my direction.
Dad took a step toward me. "Nothing, honey. Go back to sleep."
I leaned to the side to look at Darla. "Are you leaving? You found a car?"
Her lips formed a hard line. She knew I'd be upset. They were trying to sneak out in the early morning with just enough light to be safe, so I wouldn't know.
"Jenna--" Dad began.
"Let's go with them," I
said, suddenly wide-awake. "We can go with them!"
Dad shook his head. "The car they found is small. They only have enough room for them, and the more people they try to pack inside will take up that much more gas. They have less than a quarter of a tank, and they want to get to Darla's parents' house."
"But..." I looked at Darla, and she looked away. "Maybe..." My mind spun, trying to think of something. "Just take Halle and me. Take us as far as you're going, and we'll wait for Dad. When he gets there, we can figure out how to get the rest of the way."
"Jenna!" Dad scolded.
"I'll get our stuff together. Five minutes!" I said, turning on my heels.
Dad grabbed me. "Jenna, you're not going. You're staying here."
"But they've got a car. They'll be maybe five or ten miles from Mom!"
"We're sorry, sweetie. We just don't have room," Brad said.
I took a step back, holding my stomach. It felt like he'd just punched me there. "You can't leave without us," I begged. "It's been four days. She probably thinks we're dead. Please?"
"C'mon," Brad said, gathering his family.
"Good luck," Dad said.
"Wait!" I yelled, running into the kitchen. I ripped a piece of paper from one of the coloring books and wrote Mom a note in crayon.
I handed the note to Darla.
She glanced at it and then threw her arms around me. "I'm so sorry!"
"Just...please give her the note if you see her. She might come into town for supplies."
Darla's lip trembled. "I..." She looked to her husband. "Brad, this is wrong. We should try to find a way."
Brad shook his head, sad. "You asked me to get you and the kids to your parents. This is how it has to be."
Darla looked down at the paper in her hand, folded it, and put it in her back pocket. "I will, Jenna. I promise."
I yielded, taking a step back, and watched them walk out the door. Blinking and looking up didn't stop the tears, and once they'd started, they wouldn't stop. I retreated to the bathroom, shutting myself inside. My entire body shook as I sat on the floor and sobbed into a folded towel. I didn't want to wake anyone. Halle didn't need to feel this kind of frustration and disappointment, too.
Thankfully, no one bothered me until Halle knocked on the door, needing to use the toilet. I washed my face with cold water, grateful it was still running, and I opened the door with a smile.
Even without her glasses, I couldn't fool my sister.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
I sighed. "I just miss Mom."
"Me, too," she said, throwing her arms around my pelvis.
I wasn't quite Tavia's height, and she was fairly short, probably five feet five inches. But Halle's forehead barely hit my belly button, and if I didn't bend down, she'd always end up hugging my butt.
I squeezed her back and stepped to the side, deciding to stay behind and help her get ready for the day. We hadn't left April's house, and it was easy to stop caring about things like showering or brushing our teeth. But I would keep reminding Halle that we should do it while we still had soap, shampoo, and toothpaste because one day very soon, we would miss them.
After breakfast, Dad slipped his backpack over his shoulders. When he went out, he'd typically keep his pack light, just enough to get him by if he were caught somewhere. I could tell more was inside the bag than a few bottles of water, a sandwich, and extra ammo.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Get your pack. You're coming with me."
"Why?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Okay, if you don't wanna go."
"I wanna go!" Halle said.
"I wanna go!" Tobin echoed.
I stared at him with a blank face. "What are you doing?" I asked again, emphasizing each word.
He glanced at April and Tavia, seeming nervous. They were making breakfast in the kitchen, peeking at him from over their shoulders. They didn't know either.
I picked up my bag, put two bottles of water inside with a package of crackers and a knife, and quickly threw it on. "Fine, let's go."
I grabbed Jud's aluminum bat sitting by the back door, and then we walked outside to the center of the fenced-in yard. I squinted from the bright sun. It was already hot.
Dad handed me a hat and sunglasses. "Here."
"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" I asked, pulling my dark hair through the hole in the back of the cap. The hat didn't sit right when I put on the sunglasses, so I pulled up the bill to sit higher on my forehead.
"Yes, we're going this way," he said, taking the first step.
I followed him out the gate and to the right, heading through backyards, until we reached the first road to the west. It was paved but not very well. Fairview only had a school because two rural towns had combined to form one. They had no hospital, no Walmart, not even a grocery store. But they had two banks and four churches.
Figures.
"I thought you might like to get out of the house," Dad said.
"Yeah, but that's not why you brought me with you. Everyone wants to get out of the house."
He looked both ways and then gripped the hammer in his hand. "I brought you for two reasons--to talk and to help. Did you see that church on the highway when we came into town? People were holed up in there the first day or two. I'm thinking it has supplies."
"If you want to go to the church, it's in the opposite direction."
"I don't want to lead any infected to the house, Jenna."
"They're not that smart. They don't know where you're coming from unless you get caught standing in the yard or they hear someone inside."
Dad sighed, annoyed. "You don't know that, Jenna."
"I've been right so far."
"Just ... let's just go to long way to the church. Humor me."
"If it does have supplies, I bet Skeeter took them."
"What?"
"His name is Skeeter. Connor said he saved a bunch of people at the church, including Connor, but Skeeter lost his wife. He was burying her the last time I saw him."
"You saw him? When?"
"Through the hole in the plywood that Connor's always looking through. What does it matter?"
"Is he still around?"
"No. He went to go find his family."
Dad seemed comforted by that thought. He continued walking, keeping a watchful eye in all directions.
Infected were spread out--some of them standing in place, some of them stumbling around. None of them were closer than a block to us.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Just want to know who our neighbors are. Keep an eye on that one," he said, nodding to a woman in a black dress.
Her dark hair was long and tangled, and it dawned on me that while I was noticing her, she had noticed us, and she was now walking in our direction. A low moan came from her throat, her arms reaching toward us.
I gripped the bat, but I didn't panic.
"I worry about you," Dad said.
"Why?" I asked.
"You're thirteen, and you haven't really...you know, had a moment."
"I'm not talking about my period with you."
"No! No," he said, making a face. "I mean, you haven't seemed too upset by all of this. And that's concerning. It should be damn scary for a girl your age. It's scary to me."
"Maybe you just don't know me that well."
Dad pulled his mouth to the side, not amused.
I blew out a breath. I hated being too honest with him. It made me feel too vulnerable, like he would use it against me later. "I'm concentrating on getting to Mom. Once we get there, I'm not making any promises. I reserve the right to freak out at that point."
Dad picked up the pace, pointing to a few more infected who began to follow, too. "Jenna," he said, his tone a warning.
"Don't tell me that we might not make it to Red Hill. I won't accept that."
"No." He shook his head. "That is why I wanted to bring you with me. We're going to have to make a choice. If we go to Red Hil
l, the little ones can't make the trip."
"Halle can make it."
"Connor, yes. Halle, maybe. The other little ones, definitely not. Jud is barely five, and Tobin and Nora are practically toddlers. It's too far. We need to find a vehicle, a van, or maybe even two cars and gas that will get us at least most of the way there. If we can't...we'll have to leave them behind."
"I've already told Tavia that."
"You have?"
"Yes, and I'll tell April that, too. If they expect us to stay with them instead of being with our mom, they're crazy."
We crossed the highway, walking with purpose, and went past Brad and Darla's silver minivan and the green truck we'd crashed into. The church was just two blocks away on that side of the road. The first day when we'd arrived, it had been crawling with infected, but as far as I could tell, it was pretty much empty now. Dozens of bodies were lying on the back side of the church in line from the back door to the fresh grave Skeeter had dug.
"Skeeter must have cleared most of them before he left. He knew April was still here with her kids. Probably did it as a favor since he couldn't stay."
"Did she want him to stay?"
"Connor said she asked him to, but he said no."
Dad frowned.
I rolled my eyes. "No. Don't tell me."
"What?" he said, instantly defensive.
"Are you and April--?"
"No," he said, tucking his chin and making the most ridiculous attempt to deny it.
He was a terrible liar. His eyes would glass over, and he'd blink a lot. That, and he had a whole lie face that he'd make.
My eyes and stomach rolled at the same time. "Gross."
"Don't ask if you don't wanna know," he said, positioning himself to swing if something came out of the back door.
"She just lost her husband. Her kids are in the house. It's just wrong."
"We all cope differently. Get ready."
I pulled up the bat, holding it in both hands.
Dad pushed open the door and then stepped back, waiting for something to jump out at us. When that never happened, he walked inside.
I glanced around me. A few infected were just walking into the church parking lot, a hundred or so yards away.
"Dad?"
He appeared in the doorway. "It's clear--for now. Let's get in and get out. The windows are wide open."
The room was dark, so I took off my sunglasses and perched them on the bill of my hat. Then, I stepped over the mess of bodies on the floor before shutting the door behind me.