“Yeah.” Devon ran his hand down his face, looking suddenly exhausted. “But who stays behind?”
No one said a word.
The logical solution would be to leave Miller behind. Not only was he coward, but he also didn’t like any of us. Too bad his cowardice meant he would have no issue ditching the kids if we didn’t make it back.
Lisa was a good shot, and Kiaya wasn’t afraid of anything, and Devon was clearly going. That left Buck and me, and as terrifying as it was to think about facing the undead, I didn’t want to be left behind. Didn’t want to be the person everyone looked at as the babysitter. Plus, Buck was starting to worry me. He’d finished off one glass of whatever he’d been drinking at some point during our lesson and had poured himself more, and I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. Devon was eyeing the glass in the older man’s hand, and Lisa had shot a couple quick glances his way. Even Kiaya had looked at him. It had to be early evening now, which meant Buck had been drinking on and off for ten hours.
“Buck?” Devon said after a drawn-out silence.
His eyebrows were raised in a silent question, and I could tell he was hoping the other man would volunteer to stay behind so we didn’t have to discuss the real issue right now. It needed to be done, but an intervention wasn’t exactly the right way to go about doing it.
Buck let out a long sigh and took another sip. “Suppose I could stay behind.”
He didn’t sound annoyed. More resigned. Maybe he was used to his drinking causing issues with other people.
“Okay.” Devon relaxed. “We appreciate it. I’d hate to leave the kids vulnerable.”
“I’ll look out for ’em,” he said, his southern drawl suddenly thicker.
Devon nodded his thanks.
“Now that we’ve settled that,” Lisa said, “do we have a plan for how we’re going to get out of here?”
Devon nodded slowly. “I was thinking of something similar to what we did in Shamrock.”
“You’re going to sneak out again?” I asked, suddenly alarmed.
Getting him back after he’d led the zombies away from the Western Motel had been a close call, and I wasn’t jumping up and down at the idea of putting him in that position again.
“Can’t think of another way.” He gave me a pointed look. “Unless you have any suggestions?”
I didn’t. Not really. It wasn’t like we could sneak out the back like we had today.
“No.”
He nodded, looking resigned.
“Devon,” Lisa said, her tone calculated, “did you get a good look at this neighborhood when we drove through? It’s nice. Three and four car garages. There weren’t a lot of cars parked outside. Not even in driveways.”
He headed for the stairs. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
I followed him up, and the shuffling of footsteps at my back told me everyone else was as well. I knew before I got to the front window what I was going to see, though. I’d honestly never given it much thought, but Lisa was right. I couldn’t remember many—if any—of my neighbors leaving a car in the driveway, and we weren’t allowed to park on the street overnight. It was in the HOA bylaws.
We kept to the sides of the window when we pulled the curtains aside, so we didn’t draw any unwanted attention from the zombies stumbling around on the street, and it only took a quick glance to confirm Lisa had been right.
“Shit,” Devon muttered, telling me he was seeing the same thing.
He stepped away from the window, and the curtains fell back into place, then he ran his hand over his head, mussing his hair. Not that it had been in tip-top shape before the gesture. Kiaya, Devon, and I had showered before leaving Vega, but that had been four days ago, and even the sponge baths we’d managed to sneak in and the dry shampoo I’d thankfully packed couldn’t erase the effects of days without a good hair washing.
“It’s no big deal,” Kiaya said, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “We just need to think of something else that will make noise.”
Devon nodded a couple times, his expression thoughtful. “I’d love to get my hands on some fireworks, but I doubt that’s going to be an option.”
“What else makes noise?” Lisa asked, looking between us.
I did a quick mental inventory of the house, trying to remember what we had that could cause a distraction. Music would do the trick, and my mom had an iPod and a Bluetooth speaker we could hook it up to, but it was most definitely dead at this point.
Like she was.
I pushed the thought aside, trying to concentrate. What else made noise?
I could see into the dining room from where I stood, and past that into the kitchen, so I moved that way.
“Rowan?” Kiaya asked.
“Just trying to think,” I mumbled, not looking her way.
Once I reached the kitchen, I scanned the counter, but everything ran on electricity. Which we didn’t have. The Kitchen Aid mixer and toaster—not that it made noise, anyway—and even the timers on the microwave and oven were now useless…
A timer!
“I’ve got it,” I said and dashed across the kitchen.
Everyone sitting at the kitchen table looked up from the puzzle they were working on except Hank—although he hadn’t been working on it—but they didn’t say anything, and I didn’t pay any attention to them. I was too busy digging through the drawer next to the oven.
When I found what I was looking for, I snatched it up and spun around, holding it out triumphantly, “Ta-da!”
“A timer,” Lisa said, nodding in approval. “Nice.”
“What good is that going to do?” Miller looked from her to me. “It’s not nearly as loud as a car alarm.”
“No,” Devon snatched it from my hand, “but it’ll work. We just need to get the zombies far enough away from the house that we can get the garage door open, get out of the garage, and then shut it again.”
Buck was nodding—the glass still in his hand. “Could do the trick. The bastards are slow, so even if they’re only a few houses away, it should give you enough time.”
He took a sip as he looked around for confirmation, and Kiaya—who was the only one who hadn’t spoken up yet—nodded in agreement.
“It’s better than anything I can come up with.” The way she said it, and that she looked right at Miller, said she was challenging him to come up with a better solution.
He glared.
If only we could leave him here.
“I’ll sneak out the back,” Devon said, moving to the rear of the house.
When he reached a window, he pulled the curtain aside so he could look out. I was right behind him, and I was just able to catch a glimpse of the growing pillar of smoke over his shoulder before he let the blinds fall back into place.
The fire was starting to worry me.
“I’ll travel through the back yards just like we did today,” Devon continued, turning to face us. “Once I’m a few houses away, I’ll set the timer. Five minutes should give me enough time to get somewhere safe and hunker down.”
“Will you come back here?” Lisa asked.
“No. I’ll head the other way. You guys can pick me up on the way out of the neighborhood.” He looked everyone over. “Sound like a plan?”
“Sounds like a suicide mission,” Miller grumbled.
Devon ground his teeth but said nothing.
The plan was solid, but after last time, I still wasn’t thrilled about him going alone. He acted like the safety of everyone rested solely on his shoulders, but that wasn’t how things were or how they should have been. We needed to work as a team.
“Do you think someone should go with you for backup?” I asked.
His mouth turned down in the corners. “I think the less attention we draw to ourselves, the better.”
I couldn’t help thinking he was being a little too self-assured. Again. It was one of his defining characteristics and typically worked to his advantage, but in this case, I didn’t think it was going to
be to his benefit.
“But what if more than one of them sees you?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Devon.” I grabbed his arm. “Let’s talk about this. Do you want to get into a situation where you’re cornered and can’t get away?”
“Rowan,” he said, not even bothering to try to ease his arm from my grasp. “I’ll be okay. Plus, it’s not like we have a lot of options. Getting the garage door up and down is going to be rough, and I need Miller here so he can help Buck get it open.”
“I could—”
“You and Kiaya don’t have enough experience yet. It’s not safe.”
I looked from Kiaya to Lisa, silently pleading with them to help me convince him.
“I’ll go with you,” Lisa said after a second. “I understand where you’re coming from, but Rowan is right. You should have backup. You’re right, too, though. Miller needs to be here to help get the door open, and Kiaya and Rowan haven’t had enough target practice. But I know what I’m doing.” She held her gun up. “I’ve been shooting for years.”
Devon exhaled but finally nodded his assent. “I hope I don’t regret this.”
“You won’t,” Lisa said firmly.
He blew out a long breath as he nodded. “Okay.”
“Tomorrow morning, then?” Kiaya asked.
“Tomorrow morning,” I repeated.
I tried to ignore the twisting in my stomach, but it wasn’t easy. This was going to suck.
5
Dinner consisted of improvised tuna salad sandwiches using the last loaf of bread we had—and possibly the last we’d have for a long time to come. We’d had all the ingredients thanks to the food we’d plundered from neighboring houses—with the exception of celery—and even though I’d never been a fan of tuna, I took a big bite without complaint. At this point, I was thankful for any food we could get our hands on, even if it wasn’t something I normally would have eaten.
Unlike me, Lexi apparently hadn’t reached that point yet, because she wrinkled her nose when Kiaya set the plate in front of her, and I had to bite back a smile when she pried the bread away from the tuna and gave it a sniff.
“Gross,” she said, pushing the plate away.
“Eat it,” Mike said, moving the plate so it was once again in front of his sister. “It’s good for you, and we don’t know when we’ll run out of food.”
He had his own sandwich in hand, ready to take a bite, but had stopped to take care of Lexi. The look he was giving her reminded me of a wise grandfather.
On the other side of Lexi, Randall was in the middle of inspecting the sandwich like he thought it might be poison, and I could tell that no matter what we did, we weren’t going to be able to get him to eat it.
“Peanut butter and jelly?” I asked Kiaya, shrugging. “It’s not like things are so desperate that we can’t try to accommodate taste buds.”
“It’s fine with me,” she said as she headed to the table.
Five slices of bread remained, which I laid out as I prepared to fix two peanut butter sandwiches.
“Should make them starve,” Miller said, frowning over his own tuna salad.
“She’s five,” I replied, not looking at him. “And Randall isn’t hurting anyone by refusing to eat a tuna sandwich. If anything, it means someone will get seconds.”
Miller grunted to let me know he didn’t agree.
“How about some pudding while you wait?” Kiaya was saying to Lexi.
“Chocolate?” the little girl asked, her voice brimming with excitement.
“Of course,” Kiaya replied.
“I like vanilla,” Randall said.
“We have that too,” came the reply.
In seconds, Kiaya had set the uneaten sandwiches on the counter and scooped up two containers of pre-packaged pudding. I was in the middle of spreading jelly on the bread when a chorus of cheers broke through the silent house, and I smiled at the sound. It was nice to have some joy in the midst of all this, even if it was for overly processed pudding treats.
Devon leaned his hip against the counter at my side and scooped up one of the uneaten sandwiches, taking a big bite.
“You’re a natural,” he said through a mouthful of bread and tuna.
“At making sandwiches?” I asked, lifting my eyebrows.
He grinned, his mouth still full, then swallowed before saying, “Is that an insult?”
“It’s not exactly a compliment to tell someone they’re a natural at spreading peanut butter and jelly.”
He let out a low chuckle. “That wasn’t what I meant, anyway.”
“What did you mean, then?” I watched him out of the corner of my eye as I put the put the pieces of bread together, creating two sandwiches, and deposited them on nearby plates.
“I meant at the self-defense.”
That had me blushing, which I tried to hide by concentrating on picking up the plates. Looking away from him for long was impossible, though, and I found myself turning to face him, a plate in each hand.
“I didn’t even knock you down.”
“But you would have if you’d followed through.”
“I barely did anything.”
I needed to take the sandwiches to the table, but as always, Devon’s presence had some kind of hold on me that wasn’t easy to break. It had been like this almost since the moment we met, and the longer I knew him, the less I wanted to resist.
“Take the compliment.” He grinned, making his dimple deepen. “I meant it.”
I couldn’t hold in my own smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
I nodded to the table, taking a step backward as I did.
“Go on,” he said, as if giving me permission. “I’ll still be here when you get back.”
Warmth spread through me as I turned and headed for the table.
“Peanut butter,” I declared, and set the plates in front of Lexi and Randall.
The little girl had chocolate pudding all over her face when she smiled up at me. “Thank you, Rowan!”
“Thank you,” Randall mimicked.
“You’re welcome.”
Despite Miller’s grumbles, I turned to discover that he’d commandeered the second extra tuna sandwich. I had to bite back a few choice words that wouldn’t have done anything but cause problems. What a prick.
As promised, Devon hadn’t moved from his spot, so I headed back over to join him. He’d finished his second sandwich and watched with an amused expression as I picked mine back up and took a bite.
I chewed slowly, studying him while he studied me. The longer it went on, the more my scalp prickled, but it was a nice feeling. Hell, anything that wasn’t terror or sadness was nice.
I swallowed, and for some reason, his smile widened.
“What?” I finally asked.
“Nothing.”
He crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the counter, and I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. He also didn’t stop staring at me.
“Will you stop?” I finally said.
He chuckled, and the grin that spread across his face lit up his eyes. “I was wondering how long you’d let that go on.”
“You were just doing that to unnerve me?”
“Of course not,” he said. “I was enjoying the view.”
I rolled my eyes, but the comment warmed me from head to toe.
He continued to watch me as I ate, then while we worked to clean up the kitchen, but I pretended not to notice. It was getting late by that point, and Lexi was looking more than a little exhausted. She also looked like she’d painted her face with pudding.
“Time for you to get cleaned up and ready for bed,” Kiaya declared, urging the little girl to stand.
“I’m not tired,” she said through a yawn.
I covered my mouth and turned my head when a yawn forced its way out of me.
“Sure, you’re not,” Devon said with a chuckle.
Lexi gave him a stern look, but it was gone
in a second, and she was once again focused on Kiaya. Her hero. “Will you read me a story?”
“Of course,” came the reply. “But only after we wash your face and brush your teeth. Okay?”
“Okay,” Lexi said with a sigh.
Randall was standing at the table watching this happen, a curious expression on his face, while Mike hadn’t moved from the table. The little boy was still eating his tuna, and I had a feeling he was even less impressed by it than Lexi had been. I wished we had more bread so I could make him a peanut butter sandwich, too, but all that was left was one heel.
“Do I have to go to bed?” Randall asked, focusing on me.
The question startled me so much that at first, I didn’t know how to respond. The last couple nights he’d gone to bed at the same time as Lexi, but I’d just assumed he’d wanted to. Now I was wondering if he thought we expected it.
“You’re an adult, Randall,” I said. “You know when you’re tired.”
He nodded thoughtfully, mulling this over for a few seconds, then shook his head. “I want to stay up.”
“Okay,” I said, giving him a smile. “Although I have a feeling we’re all going to be turning in soon. We’re pretty exhausted.”
This made him frown. “Oh.” His gaze darted to the stairs. “I guess I’ll go now, then. Since Kiaya’s going to read a story.”
I fought back a grin. “That sounds like a good idea.”
Randall hurried off like he was afraid he might miss something, practically running.
I giggled as I turned to face the others and was surprised to find Devon sitting at the table.
“Tuna is good for me,” Mike was saying.
He nibbled on a little bit of the sandwich, but I didn’t miss that he got pretty much zero tuna with the bite.
“True,” Devon said, his expression thoughtful. “And like you said, we don’t know when we’re going to run out of food.”
Mike turned his big, brown eyes on the older man. “Do you really think that will happen?”
“I’m not sure,” Devon said honestly, “but if it does, it won’t be for a while. Still, that doesn’t mean we can waste food in the meantime, right?”
Mike’s shoulders sagged. “No.”
Far Series | Book 2 | Far From Safe Page 11