Among Monsters: A Red Hill Novella (12 page)

“I…I’m sorry. I was just trying to make conversation. I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” he said, looking back through the hole. “I didn’t mean it either. I’m just mad.”

I wondered what Connor was like before this had happened because he didn’t act his age.

“I bet you are.”

“If I were older, I could have saved more people. If I were older—”

“There are a lot of adults around. None of them have stopped this. Don’t carry that around with you.”

“I’m not carrying anything. The only things I have are my clothes.”

“Where do you live? Maybe we could go get some of your things?”

He shook his head. “What does any of that stuff matter now?”

I shrugged. His way of thinking made me miss Chloe. I wondered where she was, if her mom had picked her up in time. I would hope. That was all I had left. “I wish I could have brought something from my old room. Makes it feel more like home.” When Connor didn’t respond, I continued, “It’s not as loud as I thought it would be. Not a lot of screaming or hysterics. People get quiet when they’re afraid.”

“It’s only been two days,” Connor said without emotion. “Give them time.”

“Halle used to talk all the time. She’s barely said a word. She hasn’t even really cried.”

“Good. Loud kids get eaten.”

“You’re creepy,” I said, crossing my arms.

He leaned back and looked at me, the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. “You’re weird.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m not the one staring at a cemetery when dead people are walking around.”

“I’m not staring at the cemetery. I’m watching Skeeter.”

“Who’s Skeeter?” I asked.

“The guy who saved me.”

“I thought you said your teacher saved you?”

“He saved me from my teacher.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Oh.”

“He’s burying his wife.”

I furrowed my brows. “Oh.”

“She was pretty. April said she said she was pregnant. I’m pretty sure he had to shoot her. It was…sad, I guess—if that’s the right word.”

“Sad is the right word.”

“It doesn’t seem like enough.”

“May I?” I asked, pointing to the hole.

Connor wasn’t imagining things. A man was standing in the cemetery with a shovel, and a body covered in plastic was lying on the ground next to him. “I see him,” I said.

“Yep.”

The man was filthy, covered in sweat, and once in a while, he would pause to aim and fire his gun.

So, that’s where the gunshots were coming from.

He was fearless, his shaggy sandy-blond hair sticking out of his ball cap. He was too far from me, so I couldn’t make out his face, but his body would shake periodically, and I knew that he was crying.

“Should we tell him we’re here? He seems like a good person to have around. Good with a gun,” I asked.

“April already tried. He’s going to find his brother and niece when he’s done.”

I looked at Connor. “I’m sorry about your parents and your teacher. That sucks—a lot.”

“Yep,” he said before walking away.

“
WHAT DO YOU MEAN, WE’RE NOT GOING?
” I said, balling my hands into fists.

Dad and Tavia had pulled me into one of the bedrooms minutes after I’d woken up. A candle was the only light. The sun hadn’t risen far enough from the horizon to light the cracks around the boarded windows. By their body language, I could tell this was a secret meeting, one that they were keeping from the younger kids.

Dad held up his hands, palms out. “Yet. I said, we’re not going yet.”

“Then, when?” I asked.

Tavia gestured for Dad to let her take over. “I understand that you want to get to your mom as soon as possible. I want you to, too. But we’ve had a long couple of days. We need to rest, eat, and make a plan. Then, we can decide from there.”

“Decide what?” I asked.

Tavia reached out for me, but I pulled away.

“If we’re going to try to walk the rest of the way.”

“If?” I said, my voice getting louder. “Try?”

“Jenna,” Dad said, “don’t upset the kids.”

“How many times do I have to say it?” I asked. “Mom is waiting on us. Every day we don’t show up there, the more she worries. What if she’s hurt? What if she needs our help? What if she’s alone? She’s only a few miles away!” I pointed at Dad. “You didn’t let me catch her last time. I’m not letting you wait until she leaves again.”

“What if she heads back this way?” Dad asked. “We would see her. We could bring her here.”

My face fell, and I blinked, unimpressed with his ridiculous attempt to appease me with false scenarios. “You’re scared. You’re too scared to keep going.”

“Honey,” Dad began.

“You had to walk one day, and you’re scared? You killed a dozen infected and walked away without a scratch. We hit a parked truck at fifty miles an hour and barely noticed. Why are you suddenly opposed to Red Hill?” I was trying to remain calm, but with every point, my tone got higher.

Tavia clasped her hands together. “We’re all scared—”

“Then, stay!” I said, my voice transitioning to a weird chuckle even though I found none of what they were saying funny. “You don’t have to come with us. But our mom is waiting for us at Red Hill, and that is where Halle and I are going.”

“Not today,” Dad said.

“Then,
when
?” I asked again, emphasizing each word.

“When I say,” he said, sounding final.

I laughed once without humor. “I’m not asking to go to the mall. We’re talking about
Mom
being
alone
without us! She’s waiting for us! Do you honestly think I care that you’re”—I used my fingers to make quotation marks in the air—“
the dad
right now?”

He stomped over to me and leaned into my face, taking me back to a time when my parents had still been married. “You’d better start caring. Just because it’s the end of the world doesn’t mean I won’t whip your ass!”

Tavia pulled him back, and he flipped around, picking up a pillow and throwing it against the wall.

She eyed Dad warily. She was now seeing the side of him that Halle and I were used to, a side that I had been waiting for since this began.

“Andrew, maybe you should take a walk and see if you can do anything more to secure the house.”

Dad turned to her, his face severe. The skin between his brows had formed a crevice, as deep and as dark as his anger in that moment. His hazel-green eyes burned bright against his olive skin. Just when I thought he would start yelling again, he left the room.

Tavia took a deep breath and held her hand to her heart. “That was—”

“Typical,” I grumbled.

“You fight like that with him a lot?”

“We used to but not lately.”

“He gets pretty mad, huh?” she asked, glancing at the closed door.

“He has a temper. He’s working on it—allegedly.”

“Is that why you want to get to your mom so bad?”

My eyebrows pulled in. “What would you do if you were separated from Tobin?”

She blinked.

“She’s my mom. If I scrape my knee, I call for her. If I’m sick, I ask for her. If I’m scared, I cry for her. If there’s an apocalypse, I’m going to the ends of the earth for her.” My eyes and nose burned. The sudden emotion surprised me. I wiped my cheek and sniffed, staring at the floor. “It’s forty miles. We can make it.”

“We…we don’t know if Tobin can make forty miles. Who knows how long that would take on foot?”

“It doesn’t matter if we waste time here. What were you two talking about? How to convince me to stay? For a few days? For a week? Forever?”

“No.” She shook her head. “We’re just worried about the little ones being able to make it that far. We need a car—or at the very least, a way to carry the supplies. I can’t hold Tobin all day long. I can’t run with him. It’s too dangerous to try.”

“I like you, Tavia. I’m not trying to be mean, but no one’s asking you to come with us. If you want to stay here, stay here.”

She was taken aback. “I know, but we can’t do this alone. We need one another.”

“Brad will leave eventually for Shallot. You need my dad to stay.”

“It’s not so different. You need him to leave.”

“But he’s
my
dad. I’m not going to give up on seeing my mom again because you can’t travel with Tobin.”

Tavia’s sweet smile fell away. She wasn’t being confrontational, but she did have the look of a mother bear protecting her cub. “Halle can’t make the trip either. You would be risking her life if you go, especially if you try something as ridiculous as leaving without your dad. We’re the adults, Jenna. He’ll listen to me.”

I took a deep breath and lowered my chin. Tavia was pretty intimidating. I thought about what Mom would say when I told her about this conversation later. She would want me to fight. She would want me to do anything I could to get Halle and me to Red Hill.

“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.”