by Megan Berry
Zombies hit the side of our door, making a dull thudding noise against the metal, their ragged fingernails scratching at the glass, and the little girl lets out a high-pitched scream. I’m not very happy about it either, and I clutch her close to me and try to hide both our faces from the gruesome sight of snapping teeth and rotting skin.
Silas slams the truck in gear and we leave them behind, zig zagging around cars and zombies that are littering the road. It only takes us ten minutes to be clear of the town, but it takes the little girl another half an hour to stop sobbing and shaking.
I don’t know what to say to comfort her, I never really babysat kids, so I just sit and stroke her hair and, keep my arm around her, hoping it’s enough.
Ryan reaches up and puts his hand on my arm, and I’m grateful for the comfort that he’s providing me—a huge part of me wishes that I could just break down and cry like this little girl. We probably aren’t even all that different in age. Ryan’s thumb brushes up and down my elbow, and I draw energy from each tiny touch.
Finally, the little girl lifts her head from my shoulder, which is now soaked with her tears, and wrinkles her nose up. “It smells really bad in here,” she says, and it is so opposite from what I thought she was going to say that I let out a small bark of laughter.
Silas takes pity on us and hits the button to lower each window down a couple inches.
“Is that better?” I ask, and the little girl shakes her head.
“Not,” she says bluntly, and I secretly agree with her.
“It’s okay, you will get used to it soon and not even notice,” I tell her, and it’s a bald face lie. The smell still makes my stomach roll.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks, looking out the window with curiosity, and I’m amazed at how resilient little kids are.
“We have a cabin in the woods. It’s a little far from here, but we are hoping it will be safe,” I explain to her, and she nods. “What’s your name?” I ask, not wanting to push her too much, but names are pretty important.
“What’s your name?” she asks instead of answering, and I smile.
“My name is Jane, and the guy in the back is Ryan, and this guy here,” I point to Silas, “is Silas.”
“Silas yelled at me,” she says, and I pat her on the shoulder.
“It’s okay,” I whisper into her ear, “he yells at me too.”
She smiles at that, and Silas scowls, which makes me smile even wider.
“Now you know our names. What’s yours?” I ask casually, not wanting it to seem like a big deal.
“Sunny,” she says, and I blink at her.
“Sunny?” I ask, and she nods.
“Like sunshine,” she says with a small smile on her lips. “My mama used to tell me she named me Sunny because I light up her life.” Her lip trembles, and I don’t know what to say to that.
“It’s nice to meet you Sunny,” Ryan says from the backseat, popping his head into the front to shake Sunny’s hand and make her giggle, and I’m so relieved that he seems to know his way around kids. “How old are you?” he asks, and Sunny shyly holds up six fingers for him to count. “Six?” he asks in mock surprise, and Sunny nods. “I thought you were sixty,” he says, making Sunny giggle at how silly he’s being.
My heart melts even more towards Ryan, seeing how good he is with this poor little girl who has lost her Mom. I catch a glimpse of Silas frowning and pointedly ignore him.
“Are you hungry Sunny?” Ryan asks, and Sunny nods her head so hard that her natural curls, though filthy and weighed down with grime, bounce all over the place. Ryan passes her up some beef jerky, water, and a chocolate bar from his bag. I watch her shove it in her mouth, barely chewing, and feel like an idiot for not realizing how hungry she must have been.
Up until this point, my responsibility towards another living creature had only included a hamster the year before last. That had only lasted about a month before my parents rehomed him. Turbo had not thrived under my tutelage. I was always so busy with school and cheering… I wonder for a minute where Turbo is now, but of course, he’s probably dead.
I look nervously at the little girl in my lap and vow to do better than I did with Turbo, a lot better!
Chapter Nine
Sunny falls asleep pretty quickly. The poor kid had been living on the street for the last two days since her Mom turned from a bite, and I have no idea how she managed to survive this long. She’s so exhausted that, as soon as she eats, her full belly knocks her out as effectively as chloroform.
I hold the little girl in my arms as the truck eats up the miles. We are out in the middle of nowhere, off the beaten path, but I can still see signs of zombies everywhere. The biggest thing is the few that shuffle around in the middle of the road near crashed and abandoned cars. I stare at a zombie slowly staggering across the field and shake my head. I don’t know how the world will ever recover from this.
I hear a rustle and then a schwick kind of a sound, but it doesn’t register with me right away what it is until the sweet scent of tobacco starts to tickle my nose. Ryan is driving now, since he made Silas switch with him outside the last town, no longer trusting him to follow the map. I turn to Silas who’s stretched out in the back puffing away on a cigarette.
“You can’t smoke in here,” I blurt out, getting angry with him.
Silas gives me a blank look, and I’m honestly stunned. “Second hand smoke, there’s a kid in here!” I hiss at him, trying to be quiet so I don’t wake Sunny, but Silas just laughs, igniting my temper even more.
“It’s the end of the world, zombies are more deadly than anything coming out of this cigarette,” Silas drawls stubbornly, and I look to Ryan for help. He has his eyes on the road, but I can see a frown on his face and I know he agrees with me.
“So help me, Silas, if you don’t put that cigarette out right now, I’m going to come back there and feed it to you,” I warn him, ready to set Sunny down and do just that. Silas has been getting on my nerves more than usual the last few days, and I welcome the opportunity to dig an elbow or two into his ribs.
“It’s okay, Jane,” Sunny says suddenly, surprising me. “Please don’t fight.” I look down and see that she’s wide awake, even though she hasn’t lifted her head off my shoulder. “My mommy smoked too,” she says, wrinkling her nose up. I pat her gently on the head.
“It’s okay, Sunny, we aren’t fighting,” I lie. “Just go back to sleep,” I murmur, trying to stroke her hair the way my mom used to do to me when I was younger.
She’s quiet for a few minutes, and I think maybe she’s gone back to sleep, but then she lifts her head and I see how pale she looks. I’m concerned with the way she just went from a pink, healthy shade to being white as a ghost.
“Jane,” she moans, crossing her arms over her stomach. “I don’t feel good.”
I’m instantly on alert. “Are you going to throw up?” I ask, and she nods vigorously, looking like she’s already struggling to keep it down.
“Ryan!” I yell, barely keeping it together. Maybe I’m a freak, but the thought of someone vomiting on me right now somehow seems worse than zombie guts. Ryan is already standing on the brake pedal, and I manage to get the door open just as chunks spray out of Sunny’s mouth. I carefully lift her down, patting her on the back and holding her hair out of the way. “It’s okay,” I tell her, even though my eyes are scanning the area for zombies.
Silas jumps out of the back seat and stands protectively with his gun up, his cigarette dangling from his lips.
I reach up and pull it out of his mouth and throw it on the ground, crushing it viciously beneath my foot. I am so furious with him right now!
“What in the hell did you do that for?” Silas demands, looking away from the road for a second to glare daggers at me before turning his back on me and scanning the tree line.
I pat Sunny’s back gently a couple more times, struggling to get my temper under control before replying. “I told you to put that damn cigare
tte out and you didn’t listen and look what happened. You made her sick!”
Silas looks incredulous, then his eyes flick to the small girl, bent over barfing into the grass, and he looks…unsure.
Sunny coughs and splutters one last time before standing up, her eyes watering. “It wasn’t the smoke,” she says, shooting my theory all to hell. “The other bad smell is making me sick.”
Silas gives me a cocky look, enjoying the fact that I was wrong. I take a step towards Silas, but Ryan whistles to get my attention, distracting me from pummeling Silas, by passing out a bottle of water for Sunny. I take it, realizing Sunny is much more important right now. I twist the cap off and give the girl a drink.
“Are you ready to go?” Silas asks her, and I look up at him sharply, finding it strange that he’s talking to Sunny at all. He hasn’t been very friendly towards her. He nods towards the tree line, and I see the shape of a lone zombie stumbling eagerly towards us.
Sunny takes a deep breath and nods her head. “I…I think so,” she says, and I give her a big fake smile.
“Great, let’s go,” I say, scooping her up in my arms as I climb into the truck holding her so she won’t be able to look over my shoulder. I hear Silas’s gun fire once, and then he jumps in the back.
Sunny is looking even greener now that we’re back in the stink mobile. I press the button and roll our window down all the way as Ryan accelerates, and a bit of a breeze races through the cab.
Ten minutes up the road, we have to pull over again for Sunny, and I start to feel really bad for the girl. She was probably prone to getting carsick before this, and the smell is making everything so much worse.
I sit in the front seat holding a limp, shivering Sunny and feel a wave of guilt. I would give anything to be at the cabin right now, but is pushing for it today really the right thing to do? Not if a little girl is suffering.
“Guys,” I blurt out before I can change my mind, and every head turn towards me, even poor Sunny. I take a deep breath, unable to believe that I’m actually about to suggest this. “I think we need to find a place to stop for the night and give Sunny a rest and clean out the truck.” I say.
Ryan nods right away, he was probably already thinking it.
“There’s still a good four hours before dark, at least, we could cover a lot of ground,” Silas objects like I knew he would. On some baser level, I want to forget all about it and side with Silas. I force myself to stop being an asshole though.
“Not when we’re stopping every ten minutes because the smell keeps making a little girl sick,” I say, playing devil’s advocate. I know Abby would insist we stop if she was here.
“We’ll start looking for a place,” Ryan says, giving me an approving smile. “You’re doing the right thing, Jane,” he says, making me feel a smidge better, though I still feel crappy that doing the right thing is such a struggle for me.
“Fine,” Silas huffs from the back seat, not that he really had much choice anyway. “Make sure you find a place with a garage.” It’s a good idea and will keep the zombies off our backs while we scrub everything out.
We come across a farmyard with a long tree-lined driveway tucked away from the road, and Ryan pulls in so we can scope the place out. It looks like an alright place. There is a chicken coop in the yard and a bright red barn with white stripes. The house looks nice too. Though the front door is wide open and there are bloody splatters against its white siding and the matching white siding of a large dog house sitting on the porch.
“I don’t know about this place,” I say, having serious reservations.
Silas snorts from the backseat. “You’re upset about bloodstains?” he asks incredulously. “It’s the zombie apocalypse.”
“So you’ve mentioned,” I mutter, annoyed that he thinks I’m being weak when I just want us to be safe.
“You aren’t gonna find very many places that haven’t had something violent happen there,” Silas points out. “Hell, even this truck is a prime example of blood splatter alley,” he says, and right on que, Sunny starts to heave again.
“Fine!” I snap, and Ryan puts the truck into park. We all get out, and I pat Sunny on the back as she heaves a few more times, though she has nothing left to vomit up. Her face is sweaty, and her eyes are glassy as she looks at us.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, and I shake my head.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” I tell her, and it’s the truth.
“Maybe you should wait here with Sunny?” Ryan suggests tentatively, and I feel a surge of annoyance, I’m positive they are only choosing me to stay with the kid because I’m a girl.
Silas is looking at me. “We aren’t making you stay behind because you’re a chick,” he says, creeping me out like he can read my mind. “You’re staying back because you’re the worst shot,” he says, insulting me without batting an eyelash.
“Fine,” I say, knowing it’s true and accepting it easier than when I thought they were just being sexist. “Careful,” I call after their retreating backs, and they both nod.
I open the truck door for Sunny, but she balks. “Do we have to go back in there?” she wheedles, and I hesitate. I have a pretty good view of the yard from here, maybe it won’t hurt if we stay outside and wait.
“Alright,” I tell her. “But you have to listen to me, and get back in the truck as fast as you can, if I say,” I tell her, and she nods her head exuberantly.
“Promise,” she says, and I hope, for both of our sakes, I’m not making a huge mistake.
It feels like forever that Silas and Ryan are gone, but in truth, they’ve barely disappeared into the house when I begin to feel anxiety cover me like a lead blanket—I’m not used to having this kind of responsibility.
I tell Sunny to stay within arm’s reach, and, thankfully, she listens much better than Abby and I did at that age. I alternate between watching her pick up small pebbles off the driveway and put them in her pockets, and scanning the area for zombies.
“Look, a puppy,” Sunny says with a laugh, and I tear my eyes off the tree line to see what she’s pointing at. A large golden retriever is standing near the house, and the sight of it gives me a shock.
“Get in the truck Sunny,” I tell her, my heart hammering in my chest as the blood soaked dog raises its lip and bares its teeth at us.
“I don’t wanna,” Sunny pouts, blowing her promise all to hell.
“I’m not joking,” I lose my cool and yell at her, and she crosses her arms obstinately.
The dog steps off the porch with a loud growl, and Sunny lets out a whimper.
Without taking my eyes off the dog, I reach over and open the truck door for Sunny, and the little girl dives in. Once she’s safe, I reach for my gun and hold it up with shaking fingers. I don’t want to hurt this dog, though, judging by the amount of blood all over its fur, it might already be wounded.
“Get out of here!” I yell at the dog, taking a step forward, hoping I can scare it off without violence. The dog isn’t afraid of me though and breaks into a run. I consider running away, but I doubt I could outrun a dog, and now I’m not so sure this dog isn’t rabid. It doesn’t look right, and I don’t want to leave it for Ryan and Silas to deal with. I’ve never killed an animal in my life, and I hesitate longer than I should. The dog springs into the air, going for my throat, and I finally pull the trigger.
The dog’s momentum doesn’t slow, even though I’ve knocked three slugs into its chest, and I dive out of the way as the dog’s body hits the side of the truck and crumples to the ground. Sunny lets out a shriek from inside the cab, and I glance up for a second to see her bawling, staring out the window at the dog’s body.
I keep my gun up in case the dog isn’t really dead, but it doesn’t so much as twitch, and I finally relax enough to holster my weapon just as Ryan and Silas come running out of the house. “What’s going on out here?” Silas demands, both guys stop short when they see the dog’s body.
“Jesus, are you guys hurt?” R
yan asks, and I slowly shake my head.
“We’re okay,” I say, looking down at the dog’s body with regret and pity. “Was the house clear?” I ask, and Ryan and Silas look at each other.
“It’s clear, but we need to avoid the living room…” Ryan says.
“Zombies?” I ask, curious, and Ryan shakes his head.
“I don’t think so. We aren’t exactly sure what happened…”
Silas interrupts him with a snort. “We weren’t, but I think in light of Old Yeller here, we know what went down.” Silas walks over, drags the dog away from the truck, and chucks its body into some trees. I take a deep breath and slowly release it.
“There were some people in there, pretty chewed up. We didn’t think it was zombies because no one turned, they were just eaten…” Ryan tells me, his face pale, and I go cold. No wonder the dog was covered in blood. “He was probably starving and went feral,” Ryan says, walking over to give me a quick hug before opening the truck door and holding his hands out to Sunny.
Sunny jumps into his arms and hides her tear-stained face in his neck. “It will be okay,” Ryan soothes her, and I try really hard to take his words to heart.
“I’m gonna pull the truck into the garage,” Silas says, coming back towards us. Ryan passes Sunny over to me while he jogs ahead to the large garage double doors and pulls the first one up for Silas.
I watch them back the truck in and shut the door up tight before they both join me. “Let’s get settled in,” Ryan says, taking Sunny back into his arms to give me a break.
The house doesn’t have the death smell that’s pretty unique to zombies, and I’m grateful for that at least. I hope Sunny doesn’t see the blood smeared dog prints that are tracked throughout the entrance. Ryan takes us into a kitchen and sets Sunny down on a chair.
“You’ll want to avoid that room on the left,” he tells me, and I follow his gaze to a closed door. It must be the living room. I nod, selfishly thankful I got to avoid seeing that.