I slept in my bed that night. I’d have rather slept with Mom, but she still hadn’t left the sofa. I didn’t know how much longer she could go without urinating or eating.
I’d eaten her sandwich and fruit after packing up our stuff. I was not about to waste food.
The sofa is where I found her the next morning sound asleep. She’d moved in the night. Nothing stank around her, so she had to have gone to the bathroom. She’d also changed clothes and gotten a blanket to cover herself. The television was still on, and the news stories were both different and the same.
Outside, I could hear my next-door neighbors talking. With a peek through the curtains, I could see that they were loading their car. I didn’t know the Janson’s well. They’d only moved in last year, and their twin boys were only five. I think Mom might have said hello a time or two to one of the dads, but they weren’t friends. I had no idea where the couple and their kids were going, but I wished I were with them.
A glance up and down my street told me that a few others had the same idea. The rest of the houses sat quietly. I didn’t know if the occupants had left in the night or were hiding inside as I was.
Leaving my mother to sleep as long as she wanted, I went into the kitchen to make breakfast and to try again to reach my father. The call wouldn’t go through. None of the numbers I tried would go through, not even the one to Grandma’s home phone. She still had a landline, but only two phones in the house: one in her bedroom and one in the living room downstairs.
I could understand Grandma not hearing my calls yesterday. If one of my uncles was there, as they usually were, to help her move her stuff to her large cellar, she would be too occupied to pay attention to her phone. But by ten o’clock the next morning, things should be calm enough around her house that she would answer the phone. And it might have been, but since the call wouldn’t go through, I didn’t know.
By noon, I was panicking.
Mom was awake, but she was back to staring at the television and repeating her mantra. She wouldn’t eat anything. She wouldn’t help me nail boards over our windows. Nor would she tell me who to call for help. She stared at her television.
I hadn’t seen anyone acting weird in the neighborhood, but the more the news showed footage of how ordinary, healthy people were behaving, the more I worried that we were too vulnerable the way we were.
I became even more worried when I heard a large vehicle pull up in front of my house, and the footsteps of what I knew were men walking up to the door.
With one hand, I held a knife. With the other, I shook my mom to get her attention. All the while, I kept my eyes on the door, waiting for the man or men on the other side to kick it open.
3.
“Molly? Willa? Terrance? Anyone home?” my Uncle Jamie’s voice called from the other side of the front door.
I burst into tears and all but jerked open the door. Before my uncle could lower his gun, I threw myself into his arms, bawling.
Uncle Jamie wrapped himself around me, picked me up, and carried me into the house. His two sons, Chad and Kris, followed him, shutting the door behind us.
“Are you hurt?” Uncle Jamie asked, pulling me away from him and looking me over.
“No,” I said through my tears.
“What about your mom and dad?”
“Mom is in the living room. I think she’s gone into shock. Dad’s not here. I can’t reach him. I’ve been calling for two days.”
“It’ll probably be a day or so before you talk to him. Too many people are making calls and slowing down the services. Take me to your mom. Chad, Kris, keep watch,” Uncle Jamie said, pointing from his sons to the front and back doors.
The boys followed his orders without a word.
“Mom hasn’t moved from the sofa since yesterday morning. At least, I haven’t seen her move,” I said, leading my uncle into the living room where Mom was still sitting, watching the news.
“Molly,” Uncle Jamie said, tentatively approaching his baby sister. “Sis?”
He knelt in front of Mom and touched her shoulder as he spoke. When she didn’t acknowledge him, Uncle Jamie turned off the television and took a seat beside her on the sofa. Still, she didn’t glance his way. He turned her face and made her look him in the eyes.
“Sis, you have to snap out of it,” Uncle Jamie told her. “We need to get you and your daughter, who’s relying on you to take care of her, to Mom’s house. We’ll be safe there, but you have to help.”
“Is it real?” Mom asked, shocking the hell out of me.
Nothing I’d done had gotten a response from her.
“Unfortunately, but so far, we haven’t run across any of those creatures. If we move now, we might get back to Mom’s before they get here.”
“Okay,” was all Mom said before rising and heading toward the front door.
“Molly, go pack your bags.”
She turned to give him a puzzled look.
“You’ll need clothes and toiletries, maybe food. You can’t go as is,” Uncle Jamie said, pointing at her sleep shirt and yoga pants.
Mom nodded and headed to her room.
“Shit,” uncle Jamie said, watching her zombie-walk down the hall.
“Yeah,” I said with a sigh.
“Go pack a few bags while the boys and I pack up the kitchen.”
“Most of the stuff is in the attic,” I said before he could move.
At his quizzical look, I told him what I’d spent my afternoon doing with our groceries and other supplies.
“Good girl,” he said, genuinely sounding impressed at my foresight.
“I left some stuff throughout the house, but most of it’s in the attic in totes,” I said, letting him know that we would still have to sweep the house before we left.
“Okay. The boys and I’ll start bringing all of that down and double-checking the house. Pack a few bags, then help your mom. I...”
“I got it,” I said.
Mom was probably standing in her room, doing nothing.
After dumping my bags by the front door where the boys were piling our stuff, I checked on her. And she was doing precisely that.
“Mom, what are you doing? You should have been packed and ready to leave twenty minutes ago,” I said, going to her closet to get her suitcase.
She said nothing.
“Should I pack some stuff for Dad?” I asked, emptying her sock, panty, and bra drawers into one of the suitcases.
“Your father?” she asked me.
“Yes. Should I get clothes for Dad, or do you think we’ll be home before he returns?” I said, folding some of her shirts into a case.
“Yes. I’ll call Dad and tell him to meet us at Mom’s,” she said and reached for a pocket that wasn’t there for a phone she didn’t have.
I started to tell her that I’d been trying to reach Dad since yesterday, but he hadn’t answered. Instead, I decided that making the phone call meant that she was doing something.
I busied myself with filling their suitcases and bags with the items I thought they would need.
“He’s not answering,” Mom said, startling me as she came back into the room.
“Uncle Jamie said that the lines were busy. We’ll try him later. I have your stuff packed. We should help Uncle Jamie load it.”
Instead of answering me, Mom began opening drawers and looking through things as if she were trying to find more to pack. I left her to it and carried their bags to the front door.
“Where’s your mom?” Uncle Jamie asked, looking from me to my mom’s room.
“Still in the bedroom. I don’t know what she’s doing.”
“Okay. Just leave your mother alone for now. Chad, you and Kris will be our guards while Willa and I carry all of this to the van.”
Neither boy spoke, but they nodded in understanding. I was the weaker of the group and probably the slowest. Since I’d never fired a gun or had anything resembling training, the boys were better suited for guard duty than me.
My neighborhood was quiet. I felt eyes on me from those peeking out behind curtains, but no one left their house as we worked.
“Mom, we’re almost ready to go,” I called toward her room just as we were about to carry our next to the last load to the van.
My mother didn’t respond.
“Mom,” I called again.
She still didn’t answer.
“I’ll get this. You go check on your momma,” Uncle Jamie said, taking a suitcase from me.
I nodded and returned to Mom’s room. I found her lying on top of the covers fast asleep. Sighing deeply, I shook her awake.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Uncle Jamie is ready to go. Come on,” I said, trying not to be annoyed with her.
“Uncle Jamie? Why is he here?”
“He’s taking us to Grandma’s house.”
“Why is he doing that?” she asked, reluctantly sitting up.
“Because of the outbreak. We’re going to wait it out in Grandma’s cellar.”
“Outbreak?”
“Yeah, the one you’ve spent the better part of the last two days watching play out on the news.”
I pulled gently on her arm to get her moving.
“No. I dreamed that. That isn’t real.”
“I wish it were a dream, but if it is one, the entire world is sharing it.”
“Molly. Willa, you two ready? We should get on the road soon. People are starting to move around in your neighborhood,” Uncle Jamie called from outside Mom’s bedroom.
“Yeah. We’re coming,” I said, guiding Mom to him.
“Jamie, Willa says we’re going to Momma’s house. Is that true?”
Uncle Jamie looked from me to Mom, and I merely shrugged.
“Yeah,” he said. “It is. We’ll be safe there. Carson’s and my family are already there. Along with Cousin Mason’s family and a few others. More are coming.”
“Why?”
“We’re going into hiding. The cellar will be cramped, but we should be safe there.”
“Safe from what?”
Uncle Jamie looked at me again, and again, I merely shrugged. I had no explanation as to what was going through Mom’s head.
Nodding, Uncle Jamie decided not to answer. He merely directed Mom and me out of the house.
“I forgot something,” I said, as they walked to the vehicle.
“Willa, come on. We have to get going,” Uncle Jamie called as he settled Mom into a seat.
“I have to leave a note for Dad,” I called back, rushing to the kitchen to pin a note to the fridge letting my dad know where were. When he got home and didn’t find us, he would probably assume we were dead, so I wanted him to know where we were heading.
I also decided to leave another note on the small table just inside the door as a precaution. Once I was done, I locked the door behind me, though I knew it would do no good to do so.
4
The drive to Grandma’s house, which is about a half an hour north of ours, was relatively uneventful. I didn’t see anyone or anything that I could definitively say was a zombie. We passed two wrecks. At one, a group of people was fighting. Uncle Jamie tried to call each accident into the police, but the line just rang. We didn’t stop.
At the second wreck, the group could’ve been fighting one of the undead, or they could’ve been fighting each other. I hated not stopping, especially at the one that didn’t have a group brawling on the side of the road. At the same time, we couldn’t stop for anything or anyone.
We were currently living in a world where you had to look out for yourself. One could argue that we were already living in that world before the outbreak. In many ways, we were, but this new life was different...harsher. Even those people like my uncle, who would’ve stopped for both accidents and gone to the hospital to make sure everyone was all right, refused to put their lives in danger to save anyone who wasn’t family.
For a second, I started to ask why Uncle Jamie didn’t stop, but the stern look on his face kept me quiet. I tried to focus my attention on Mom. She didn’t notice cars on the roadside, the traffic speeding by us, or the lack of conversation going on inside the vehicle.
“My God. Who all is here?” I asked as we pulled into Grandma’s drive.
Cars, vans, SUVs, and trucks lined the drive and around to the side of the house. No one moved in the yard. I also couldn’t see anyone through the windows. The sight was eerie.
“Most of the family. Mom’s is the biggest house with the largest cellar. It’ll barely hold us all, but if we’re lucky, we won’t have to hide here for too long,” Uncle Jamie said.
His last statement was for the kids and my mom. We were in the middle of the zombie apocalypse, after all. If the outbreak played out the way it did in shows and movies, we’d be hiding a long time.
Mom merely stared at the line of cars in confusion. I could tell that she wanted to ask questions, but she couldn’t bring herself. Her denial was warring with her reality. If we didn’t do something soon, she would have a mental break down. I didn’t know if seeing a zombie in person would help her or not, but I was close to suggesting someone take her to one.
“Have you seen one of the creatures in person?” I whispered to Chad.
“No, but Uncle Carson did. He tried to go to Little Rock but didn’t get any closer than Jacksonville. There Uncle Carson saw a few at a gas station, eating a patron. He turned around and came home. Some of the others in the house have seen a few too. Who did your mom see?” Chad asked.
“No one,” I said. “We haven’t left the house since this started.”
“Really. But your mom is...”
“Chad, grab a few totes, please,” Uncle Jamie said, escorting Mom passed us.
“Yes, Sir,” my cousin said, turning around and going back to the van.
I went to follow him, but my uncle asked me to help Mom into the cellar and said that he would assist the boys.
“Oh, thank God,” Grandma said as we came down the basement steps.
She threw her arms around Mom and me and hugged us tightly.
“I was afraid that something had happened to you both,” Grandma said when she finally pulled away.
“I tried calling...like a thousand times, but no one answered...none of my calls,” I said, pulling out my phone to prove to her that I’d called.
“Carson said the lines weren’t working. However, once people started showing up yesterday, I haven’t had a chance to make many phone calls,” Grandma said, leading us over to a cot.
Grandma didn’t say anything about Mom’s condition. She merely helped her daughter lie back on the makeshift bed before covering her with a blanket.
Mom fell straight to sleep. Grandma motioned me away from her and over to where she’d made a bed for herself.
“How long has she been that way?” Grandma asked me as we took a seat.
“More or less since the beginning of all of this. When I came downstairs yesterday morning, Mom was sitting in front of the TV, mumbling to herself that, ‘this can’t be happening.’ She’s been saying something along those lines on and off since. I don’t think she went to the bathroom until late into the night.
“Since Uncle Jamie arrived, she’s been acting as if she doesn’t know what’s happened. I don’t know what’s going on in her head,” I said with a sigh.
“She’ll be all right. You’re mom just has a hard time dealing with things sometimes. I’ll give her a valium if she starts freaking out too much. I’m sure in a day, or so, she’ll be fine. She isn’t the only one freaking out,” Grandma said, nodding to one of my mom’s cousins, her wife, and family.
The cousin’s wife was crying hysterically. I looked around the room to see that more than a few people were staring off into space with blank looks. Some were quietly weeping. Others, like my uncles, were worki
ng tirelessly to bring Mom’s and my clothes and supplies down to the basement.
“Where should we put our stuff? I asked my grandmother.
“Your things can go under your beds,” she said, pointing to the cot Mom was on and then to the empty one next to it.
“Fun,” I said, not hiding my sarcasm.
“I know it isn’t ideal, but there are too many of us to bring down big beds.”
“No one’s sleeping upstairs?”
“Nope. Your uncles think it’s better if we stay down here. The only ones who’ll be upstairs will be those who are on guard watch. And don’t even think about offering. Your mother will have a duck if I put a gun in your hand.”
“Fine,” I said and went over to our cots to sort our things.
“Once you’ve finished here, if you still want to do something, you can unload the totes you brought from your house. I think the storage shelves are fairly self-explanatory.”
“Okay. I’ll do that,” I said, looking down at my mom’s sleeping form.
“I promise she’ll be all right. She’ll be back to normal soon.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. You know how Mom is in stressful situations—she panics.”
“And she’s stubborn. I know, but she’ll have to get over herself quickly if she hopes to live through this,” Grandma said.
I’d never heard her sound so hard about one of her children. She’d always been more logical and levelheaded than Mom. Most of Mom’s family was. How she’d become the obstinate one, I’ll never know. I’m not saying my family is coldhearted and unemotional. They just tend to be more on the cautious side. They try to wait until they have the facts before reacting.
Mom immediately panics.
I think I’m somewhere in the middle. Some would say my boxing of our food was an overreaction, considering I’d never seen a zombie. For all I knew, the images on the television were a prank. My gut had told me it wasn’t. Mom’s utter panic over it all told me it wasn’t, and my conversation with Lilly that first morning told me the event was real.
WILLA Page 2