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by Kyle Danvers

  “Mom, wake up!”

  Shelby jolted, her head foggy, the world black all around her, as Nate shook her.

  “What’s wrong?” Shelby asked.

  “We have to leave. Now,” Nate said.

  “What? Why? What happened?” Shelby asked. None of it made sense.

  The last thing she remembered was falling asleep next to Nate, his head on her shoulder like he used to do when he was a kid. It’d been a nice reprieve from the assault of the last few days after the blast or storm or whatever it’d been, and for a few precious hours, Shelby had almost forgotten about the disaster that surrounded her.

  She turned to find Cass sitting next to him, facing away from her. It was difficult to tell thanks to the darkness of the cellar, the tiny window built into the foundation only allowing a sliver of light inside, but there appeared to be bruises on Cass’s throat.

  Shelby’s blood turned to ice in her veins. Was it just a trick of the shadow?

  She reached out to Cass and put her hand on her shoulder, but Cass jerked out from underneath her grip.

  Cass’s face had only come into the light for a flash, but it was enough for Shelby to see what stained it.

  Blood stained Cass’s face and the front of her clothes. Shelby let out a gasp at the sight of it, unable to fathom what might’ve happened.

  “Shut up,” Cass hissed. There was a gun in her hand—the same weapon Shelby had tried to hide from her—and it was covered in blood splatters too. Had they been attacked? Had Shelby somehow managed to sleep through the entire thing?

  “They have to know we’re here,” Nate said to Cass.

  “Of course they do. If the gunshot didn’t tip the looters off, us running across the street covered in blood did,” Cass said.

  Shelby’s head spun, her mind swatting at the words, trying to catch them as they whizzed by like fireflies she and the kids used to catch in jars on summer evenings.

  But that world, one in which her children were still children, still innocent, was long gone and Shelby couldn’t ignore reality anymore. She couldn’t go on pretending they’d wake up one morning and everything would be back to normal—because there was no such thing anymore.

  Her daughter had shot someone—and probably killed them. Her baby, her little angel, had done something unspeakable and she couldn’t take it back.

  Shelby thought of all the trauma it must’ve caused, how much it must actively be poisoning Cass’s mind. She would have to live with that action for the rest of her life, be haunted by it in her dreams.

  The world had changed, irrevocably, in a matter of days, and it seemed her children had too. She’d failed them yet again; to shield them from the things she never dreamed they’d have to see and do.

  “What are we gonna do?” Nate asked.

  “We have to leave,” Cass said, staring her brother directly in the eyes. She looked crazed, desperate, like a cornered wild animal. Shelby barely recognized her.

  “Where the hell are we gonna go and how are gonna get there?” Nate asked. “We don’t have a car. Jesus, Cass, we can’t just go running off. We don’t know who or what else is out there waiting for us.”

  “Anywhere has to be better than here,” Cass said.

  “You don’t know that. You can’t know that,” Nate said.

  “What happened?” Shelby interrupted, and they both turned to her, neither of them able to speak. Nate looked his mother up, and down and Shelby saw the cogs turning in his eyes. Whatever it was, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pushed his glasses up his nose.

  “Cass snuck across the street and got caught,” Nate said, and Shelby’s heart skipped.

  “You did what?! Why would you do that?” she asked Cass, who furrowed her brow.

  “One of us had to do something. We couldn’t just sit here and wait for those thugs to find us, and trust me; they would’ve found us eventually,” Cass said.

  “What did you do?” Shelby asked. She already knew the answer, but she needed to hear it from Cass; she needed to be sure Cass hadn't lost herself.

  “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we have to get out here and we have to do it fast,” Cass said. “Grab whatever you can carry, throw it in boxes. We don’t have a lot of time.” Shelby couldn’t believe her ears. They couldn’t leave. What about Joel?

  “But your father—” Shelby started.

  “He’s not coming home, Mom. Not now, not ever,” Cass said and Shelby’s stomach twisted as she realized the person staring back at her through the darkness wasn’t the same one she’d raised.

  The Cass she knew was an optimist, the kind who would never have given up on hope this easily. But that young woman was gone, replaced by someone or something else. This new Cass had taken a life—and the act had taken away a slice of her humanity in exchange.

  Fighting back the urge to cry, and guided only by the dim light trickling in through the tiny basement window, Shelby scrambled to gather anything her hands could reach into the darkness. She found a box on the floor nearby, full of canned vegetables and stacks of MREs Joel had collected over the years. The sight of them was a knife in her side.

  She picked one of the plastic packages up, felt its strange lumps inside, and tried to guess at what it was. If Joel had been there, he would’ve been able to identify the contents of the package without reading the description and without opening it. But Cass was right—Joel wasn’t there and for all they knew, he might not even be alive.

  “Hurry up,” Cass said and snatched the MRE out of her hand, tossed it back into the box. “Just grab whatever you can.” Shelby started to cry, though she kept her tears to herself. She couldn’t afford to let her kids see her like that now. She couldn’t let them see her as weak, so she grabbed can after can of unidentifiable objects from the shelves beside her and piled them into the box.

  “What about our things upstairs? We can’t just leave without taking clothes and drugs and—”

  “We don’t have time for that,” Cass snapped. “Look, what happened across the street… it had to draw attention. I don’t think that guy was alone and I don’t think we’re safe here anymore.” Without another word, Cass leaped to her feet and darted to the stairs. Nate helped Shelby carry the box of food to the basement stairs where they stopped, the three of them frozen.

  Shelby strained to hear anything other than her breath whooshing in her ears like a moth’s wings. Goosebumps rippled across the back of her neck. They would be open targets like this, a woman and two kids, out in the dark carrying a big box of supplies without any protection other than a single gun.

  Her mind raced, thoughts tumbling over thoughts like rats caught in a maze; trapped in the same way she was.

  Where would they go once they were out of the house? How would they get there? Neither Shelby’s Lexus nor Nate’s Civic would start, that much they already knew. But she’d seen some people driving, so she knew some cars had survived the storm. Maybe there was another car in the neighborhood left behind that might start, and maybe its owners had forgotten to take the keys in their rush to leave the area.

  “Are you sure about this?” Shelby whispered, looking Nate in the eye. She couldn’t make Cass see reason, it was too late for that, but she might be able to get through to Nate. Once they were out there, in the thick of the chaos of a world gone dark, she couldn’t imagine what they might encounter—or what they might have to do—to survive.

  “No. But Cass’s right. We can’t stay here, we can’t wait anymore,” he said, and Shelby knew she’d lost the fight.

  The smashing of glass upstairs sent them all scrambling to the floor. The box of supplies crashed to the ground, sending cans rolling across the floor. Shelby prayed the intruders hadn’t heard the noise over the commotion their break in made.

  They’d come through the front window, Shelby was sure of it. Whoever they were, whatever they wanted, she knew it wouldn’t end well. They had to get out of the basemen
t and away from the house before the burglars found them and there was only one way out—the window.

  “The window, go! Now!” Shelby hissed. Cass stood frozen, the gun still in her hands. “Cass!” Shelby whispered, but Cass didn’t move, so she seized her daughter by the shoulders and dragged her away from the stairs to the window. With Cass covering her, Nate hoisted Shelby up by the foot to reach the window.

  As she unlocked the window and pushed it outward to open it, the squeal of the hinges was drowned out by the sound of footsteps thundering across the hardwood floors above. There was no doubt left in Shelby’s mind. Cass and Nate had led the looters right to them.

  “You go first,” Shelby whispered down to Nate, her side scraping against the concrete walls.

  “No way, you go,” Nate insisted. Shelby didn’t listen, instead lowered herself down to the ground and kneeled to give Nate a step up. He glared at her, his brows furrowed in frustration, but Shelby nodded up at the window.

  “Go. Cass and I will be right behind you,” Shelby said. Nate looked from Cass’s back to Shelby and back again before he cursed under his breath and stepped into Shelby’s clasped palms. Using all the strength she could muster, she pushed him upward. His head and shoulders went through first, and he paused for a second to make sure it was clear.

  Cass backed toward her, away from the stairs and the increasingly loud footsteps approaching the basement stairs. The click of a gun being cocked upstairs, mere feet away from them, shocked Shelby’s ears and she gave Nate one last desperate shove upward. His legs and feet disappeared into the night, and Shelby let out the breath she’d been holding.

  She reached for Cass next, determined to get the kids out of the house before she dared to worry about herself. Cass jolted and whirled with the gun aimed and ready to fire. Shelby winced and held her hands out to her, and Cass whimpered, shook her head to say sorry.

  “We know you’re down there, bitch!” a gruff voice called down the stairs. “We’re gonna make you pay for what you did.” Tears poured down Shelby’s cheek; she couldn’t stop them. She gestured to the window, pleading with Cass to take Nate’s hand dangling back inside, but Cass turned around and aimed the gun at the foot of the stairs.

  “Then come down here and try me,” Cass called back. Laughter bounced down the stairs, and Shelby knew it was too late. She opened her mouth to beg Cass not to do this, but words caught in her throat as the first footstep against the stairs filled the basement.

  They were coming, and Shelby and Cass were trapped. Even if they wanted to, there wasn’t enough time to get out of the window. Nearly blind, Shelby went to the nearest shelf, wrapped her hands around a glass jar.

  Without a word, she crept to the foot of the stairs, holding her breath to keep from giving herself away, and crouched down in the shadow, ready to strike when the opportunity presented itself. Cass backed toward the window; the gun held high, ready to fire, as she crouched down.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” the first voice taunted as they came further down the stairs. Cass’s back slammed into the wall, just feet below the window. To Shelby’s horror, Nate’s feet dangled from it. He was coming back when he needed to run.

  The man reached the bottom of the stairs, stared blindly into the darkness as his eyes tried to adjust, and Shelby leaped at him, smashing the glass jar against the back of his head. It shattered into pieces, sending glass and juice that reeked of vinegar splashing across the concrete floor.

  The man screamed and fell to the ground and Shelby tumbled over him. She tried to scramble back to her feet, but in seconds the man was on her, pulling and tearing at her legs to get closer. He reeked of alcohol, and stale sweat and his rancid breath filled her nostrils as he hovered over her, swatting her hands away as she tried to claw at his face.

  A gunshot rang out, temporarily filling the room with light and sound, and Shelby’s couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in her ears. But the man was gone, melted into the darkness, so she scrambled away until her back collided with the wall.

  She screamed when a hand grabbed her ankle, and in a blur of darkness, the man yanked her back toward him. His other hand found her throat, and though she kicked and clawed at him, he managed to pull them both to their feet.

  Shelby’s desperate screaming stopped when she felt cold steel against her temple.

  “That’s it, be a good girl,” the man whispered into her ear with a chuckle that made Shelby’s skin crawl, but she didn’t dare move. “You’re not the one we’re looking for, but you’ll do.”

  “Fuck you,” Shelby spat, and the man laughed again, his harsh breath spilling into her nose and turning her stomach.

  “Let her go, or I’ll shoot,” Cass’s voice carried through the room as she stood, her gun glinting in the moonlight.

  “Cass, no, don’t—” Shelby started but stopped when the man jabbed the point of the gun into her temple.

  “There she is,” the man said, and Shelby heard the smile in his words. She stared at Cass, silently pleading with her not to do anything rash. They could still get out of this alive.

  But she was unreachable. Her eyes locked on the man’s face, her brow furrowed.

  “Put it down, or she gets it,” the man said, again jabbing the gun into Shelby’s head. Cass shook her head, tears shining in her eyes. Shelby whimpered and bit her lip as she tried not to cry as well.

  When Cass aimed the gun at him and stepped forward, the man shoved Shelby away from him—and Cass pulled the trigger.

  18

  Fire glared at Ashley from the coast.

  The boat cruised along, the wind chilly and invigorating against her face as she steered. Ashley watched the skyline burning like some hell-on-earth nightmare, thanking who or whatever might be listening that they hadn’t had to face it themselves.

  And though the boat had been a godsend, the kind of lucky break she couldn’t ever have dreamed of finding, she realized it still wouldn’t get them all the way home.

  Home. It’d only been three days since the world had been turned inside out and exposed Ashley for the kind of person she was, but in that time she’d almost forgotten where she was heading—and why she was going there in the first place.

  Would her father even still be alive? Or by the time she got there would some cowardly asshole have broken in, shot him, and taken whatever he had? He couldn’t have fought back, though she knew he definitely would’ve tried. Her father was many things, but a quitter wasn’t one of them.

  She wasn’t a quitter either. Regardless of what she found when she got to her father’s house in Ventura—the home Ashley had left almost ten years ago—she had to try.

  It struck her then that she didn’t have to go with Joel, not all the way. Once they arrived in Ventura, once Ashley got answers about her father, what would she do?

  “Everything OK?” Joel asked, startling her. She turned to find him walking to the front of the boat, staring up at the sky. It didn’t surprise her that he hadn’t been able to sleep. Between what they’d been through and his arm, she wouldn’t have been able to rest easy either.

  “Just peachy,” Ashley said as he sat down in the passenger seat and Joel chuckled.

  “Are you scared?” Joel asked.

  “How couldn’t I be?” Ashley asked. She’d seen some horrific things out on the battlefield, had to repair some of the worst injuries imaginable, but not even that could prepare her for what they might be facing soon.

  “Fair enough,” Joel said. “ How much longer do we have to go?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s hard to say, but if I had to guess, I’d say another hour or so,” Ashley said. They’d already been cruising along for a few hours, and judging from the position of the stars in the sky, it was her best guess.

  The distance was less of a concern than the amount of gas left in the boat was. It’d been just over half full when they stole it, and they’d burned through the majority of it already. Ashley hoped it would be enough to get t
hem to Santa Barbara, but she wasn’t sure. The only way to find out would be to keep pressing.

  “You know, I’ve been thinking,” Joel said. Ashley didn’t like the sound of that. They hadn’t talked much since they’d banded together, or been forced together, depending on how she looked at it, and she was just fine with that.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” she said, and Joel chuckled.

  “Well, I’ve had a lot of time to think,” he said, sitting up slowly and carefully. He groaned from his arm, but he seemed to be able to move it more than he had before.

  “So, what have you been thinking about?” Ashley asked though she didn’t want to know.

  “About you, about us,” Joel said.

  “What about us?” Ashley asked.

  “Well, just that I don’t know anything about you. We’ve been together for a few days now, seen some shit that no human should ever have to see, and we don’t know anything about each other other than our names. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

  “Everything about the situation is weird; I don’t see how this stands out to you,” she said.

  “Good point. Still, I’m curious, what are you fighting for? What keeps you going?” he asked. She knew it was only a matter of time before he asked about her personal life, about her family, but she couldn’t have prepared for it. Ashley’s relationship with her father wasn’t easy to talk about, even under normal circumstances, much less with someone she barely knew after the world had fallen apart.

  “My dad,” she answered.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, that’s all. He’s a real bastard, but he’s all I’ve got left, even before all this,” Ashley said with a shrug.

  “What happened, if I can ask?” Joel asked.

  “It’s a long story,” Ashley said.

  “I’ve got time,” Joel said, and Ashley sighed. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell him, it was more that she didn’t want to think about it. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing her father again if, in fact, she did see him again, but she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him alone.