Among Monsters: A Red Hill Novella (7 page)

“Jenna—” Dad began.

“I’m going!” I said. “I need her. I want to be with her”—tears streamed down my face—“for however long that might be. And if you won’t go with me, I’ll go by myself.”

“No!” Halle threw her arms around me.

Tavia blinked and then looked to Dad. “What is Red Hill?”

Dad sighed. “It’s a ranch, northwest of here and across the state line.” He sighed. “I’ve never been there, Jenna. I don’t know exactly where it’s at.”

“I do!” Halle took a breath and began to sing.

West on Highway 11

On our way to heaven

North on Highway 123.

123? 123!

Cross the border.

That’s an order!

Left at the white tower.

So Mom can clean the doctor’s shower.

Left at the cemetery.

Creepy…and scary!

First right!

That’s right!

Red! Hill! Roooooooad!

Tavia smirked and put her hands on her hips. “Who knew? I’ve been traveling with Beyoncé all this time.”

Halle beamed. It was the first time I’d seen her smile since Mom had dropped her off at school the morning before. That seemed like an entire lifetime ago.

“We know the way,” I said to Dad. “You just have to drive us. It’s secluded and stocked. Mom always said it would be the best place to go, and she’s there.”

He shook his head. “It’s a long way, honey. We should wait here until things calm down.”

I held up my hands and then let them fall to my thighs. “Dead people are walking around outside. We don’t have time. She’s waiting on us!”

“Okay!” Dad said. “Okay, just let me think.”

“While you think,” Tavia said, “we girls had better take advantage of a working bathroom. Let me take Tobin first.”

Halle and I agreed, and then when they emerged, I led Halle in by the hand. In the dim room, she hummed from the toilet, and then she washed her hands as I sat down. I didn’t realize until that moment just how much I’d needed to go.

“We have to be more careful,” I said. “Don’t want to get bladder infections.”

“What do you mean?” Halle said.

“It’s not good to hold it for so long,” I said, walking over to the sink.

“Why would we need to hold it?”

“In case we don’t get to the ranch today. If we have to take back roads and it takes a little longer, then we need to think about these things. We can’t just go to the doctor, like we’ve done before.”

Halle pretended to understand, but I knew she had no idea what was really going on. To her, it was scary, but she was on autopilot, just doing what she was told. At some point, it would finally set in that things would be different for a long time.

When we came out of the bathroom, Tobin was pushing his train on the floor.

“He’s so good,” I said.

Tavia crossed her arms, looking proud. “He always has been. Hardly cried as a baby. Everyone told me that he’d be a nightmare of a toddler, but you can see, he’s my angel.”

A shadow darkened the very spot where he played. A low moan mixed with a gurgling noise made us all freeze.

“Choo-choo!” Tobin said, shoving his train across the carpet.

His voice was soft, but the moaning grew louder. Tavia scooped him up off the floor and backed against the wall, motioning for him to be quiet. Together, Halle, Dad, and I slowly backed away from the window and went into the kitchen, joining Tavia and her son.

“Jenna, keep an eye on that window. Tavia, stay with Halle. I’m going to get supplies,” Dad said.

“I’m going with you,” I said. “I know what we need.”

Dad frowned in confusion.

“Bottles of water, a can opener, flashlights, batteries, candles, socks. Mom and I watched those shows all the time. Let me help you.”

“Watch the window,” he commanded Tavia. He pointed to me and then the kitchen cabinets.

I went straight to the front closet and grabbed one of Dad’s hunting backpacks, unzipped it, and then went into the kitchen, opening the silverware drawer. I packed three forks, two knives, and the can opener. Then, I opened the junk drawer and fished out the box of matches, a small bottle of hand sanitizer, a mini LED flashlight, two candlesticks, and a package of batteries. From the cabinets I tossed in a package of beef jerky, some ramen noodles, sandwich bags, and ten cans of soup. I grimaced. They weighed down my pack quite a bit.

The bathroom was next, but my backpack was filling up fast. I grabbed the first-aid kit, rubbing alcohol, all the Tylenol and ibuprofen I could find, three washrags, insect repellent, two rolls of toilet paper, and sunscreen. I tried to find a small mirror but no such luck.

In the utility room, I opened the top cabinets where Dad kept all his hunting and camping gear. “Halle!” I called just above a whisper.

She crept in, looking up at me through her glasses. Her hair was still matted to her head.

“Empty your backpack.”

“What? Why?” she said, already whining.

“Because we’re going to need things to survive and not your nail polish. Empty it. Hurry.”

“But we’re going to Red Hill. We don’t need a tarp.”

“Halle!” I hissed.

She sighed as she let the straps fall off her shoulders, and then she pulled on the pink zipper. She turned it upside down, and a variety of useless junk fell to the floor.

I threw in a tightly rolled-up tarp, another flashlight, a canteen, a compass, and a full roll of duct tape.

“I can’t find one of my backpacks or my 9mm,” Dad said. He’d changed into one of his navy blue Anderson Fire Department T-shirts with matching cargo pants, and his standard-issue navy fleece pullover was tied around his waist. He still had on his heavy black boots laced up to the top. “They’re gone, and so is the ammo.”

My eyes brightened. “She took them.”

Dad wasn’t happy, but he didn’t dwell on it for long.

“Do you have a leather jacket?” I asked.

“No. Why?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Zombies will bite right through that thing,” I said, pointing to his pullover. “What else did you get?”

After he processed my words with an unsettled expression, he held up a long nylon bag, zipped closed. “My hunting rifle and plenty of ammo.” He pointed to the rolled-up nylon on top of his pack. “The tent—just in case,” he said to Halle. He tossed her a heavier coat. “I’ve got my good hunting knife and a multi-tool, and we still have those blankets from the armory.”

“Halle, go get a few more bottles of water,” I said. “Don’t make your pack too heavy.”

“I know.” She turned on her heels.

I pushed air through my lips, and my cheeks bulged out. Her backpack already appeared to be weighing her down. She would be complaining about carrying it before too long.

I walked into Dad’s bedroom and looked around before going into his closet. I took three sweatshirts, tying one around my waist, and three ball caps.

“No extra clothes?” he asked.

“We don’t have the room.” I looked at his nightstand and then back at him. Looking back at his nightstand, I lunged for it and pulled it open.

“What are you doing?” He tugged me back, like I knew he would.

But it was too late. The drawer was open, and there was an open box of condoms.

I snatched it up. “Bingo,” I said, tossing it to him.

His eyes flitted everywhere but on me. He was clearly embarrassed and thoroughly confused.

“I got it from the survival show I watch with Mom. They have lots of uses. I’m not thinking ahead for you or anything. Gross.” I looked back down to the open drawer and picked up a small sewing kit. “We might need this, too.”

“Do we have everything?” he asked.

“No, but we don’t have room for everything.”

“Good job, kiddo.”

I managed a smug grin. I’d been angry with him for so long that it felt weird to be nice.

Dad patted my shoulder. “We should get going if we’re going to make it to Red Hill before dark. We don’t know what’s between here and there.”

I followed him to the kitchen where Tavia stood, looking a bit more relaxed.

“All clear?” Dad asked.

“He walked on by.” She swallowed. “I think it was the governor.”

Dad rubbed the back of his neck. “Is there anything you need for Tobin before we go?”

“A couple of changes of clothes for both of us would be nice. Other than a few toys, child meds, a sippy cup, some wipes, and a bottle of lotion, he doesn’t need much.” She lifted him higher on her hip. “And I’d sure like to check to see if my brother made it to my house.”

“Your brother?” Dad asked.

“He was on his way here. I thought he either didn’t make it this far or he got caught on the highway, but if Scarlet made it here, that gives me hope that Tobin did, too.” When Dad gave her a look, she continued, “My son is named after my brother. He always made sure we were taken care of.”

Dad bobbed his head once in understanding and then took in a deep breath. “All right. We’ll walk back toward the armory. Stay together, keep your eyes out, and get to the Tahoe. We’ll drive to Tavia’s and grab their supplies, and then we’ll head west.”

“To Red Hill ranch,” I said. “To Mom.”

“Yes,” Dad said, glancing at the paint on the wall. “I hope it’s everything you say it is.”

“It is,” I said with confidence. “We just have to get there. The rest is easy.”

Dad made a face. “You don’t remember what it’s like—your mom and I living under the same roof.”

I rolled my eyes. “Things are different now. I don’t think you’re going to be spending too much time fighting about how much money she spent at Walmart.”

Dad chuckled as he opened the back door, but then his smile faded. After a quick glance around, he waved at us to follow.

THE WALK TO THE ARMORY
wasn’t a straight shot. A few stragglers were left behind, shuffling slowly in the park. Dad guided us around them, and before I could even break a sweat, we were at his SUV.

The armory was still surrounded by vehicles. I wondered how many of those things walking aimlessly in the yard had never made it to their cars.

“Don’t slam the door,” I instructed Halle as I lifted her to the front passenger seat.

Her eyes were red and puffy, her golden hair matted to her head. I pondered if I looked as lost and terrified as she did.

Tavia climbed into the bench seat in the back with one arm, holding Tobin in the other. She settled him beside her, distracting him with his train long enough to stretch the lap belt across his waist. She patted his knee with that motherly it’s-going-to-be-okay smile, and it made me miss Mom even more.

I climbed in after Tavia, sitting behind Halle in the captain’s chair.

“Mama,” Tobin said.

“Yes, baby?”

“I want cereal.”

She nodded. “We’re going home. I’ll get you some while we’re there.” She smiled at him, but when she looked away, worry scrolled across her face. After today, she wasn’t going to be able to provide him with food every time he asked for it.

“Can I take some of my toys?” he asked.

“Yes, but just a few. We’ll have a lot more things you’ll have to help Mama carry.”

“Yes, Mama.”

She kissed his forehead. “Good boy.” She blinked her eyes and then looked up, trying to keep the tears from spilling over.

“Don’t worry,” I said. She looked to me. “You know what to do to keep him safe. Remember what you did at the armory. That was pretty brave.”

Tavia’s sweet smile peeked out from the corners of her mouth. “You think so?”

“What street do you live on?” Dad asked.

“Padon,” Tavia said. “Behind the grocery store and across the street from the church.”

“Got it,” Dad said, continuing south. “That’s right next door to Scarlet’s grandparents’ house.”

“Richard and Helen are Scarlet’s grandparents?” Tavia asked, surprised.

“Helen’s my mema,” Halle said, her cheery voice a strange contrast to the disturbing scene outside the SUV.

Tavia shook her head. “Small, small world.”

“Even smaller now,” I said, staring out the window.

It was a beautiful Saturday, but no kids were playing outside. Instead, there were monsters that weren’t supposed to exist, bodies lying in the street, and the occasional crack of gunfire.

“Andrew?” Tavia said. “What if my brother is there? He’s a big guy.”

“Halle can sit behind me. He’ll fit just fine in the passenger seat. There’s plenty of room.”

“Even with Richard and Helen?” she asked.

“We’ll make it work,” Dad said.

Tavia settled back into the seat and hummed a small laugh, resting her elbow on the door and her forehead in her hand. I’d never seen someone so full of relief.

Dad turned south onto Main Street, but he soon had to retreat to a side road because of the huge group of infected roaming in the street. A high-pitched ringing sound came from one of the businesses, but I couldn’t figure out which one.

“It’s weird how they’re all on Main Street,” I said.

“It’s the security alarm at Gose Jewelers. They’re attracted to sound.” Dad slowed at the intersection, and even though the light was red, he didn’t stop.

“No one else is on the road, Dad. Why are you slowing down?” I asked.