"We've decided she needs some serious help, and this should be a daily thing until she gets better."
"Sounds like a good idea," Nathan said, nodding.
"You've shot a gun before, Ashley. I don't understand how you'd be so bad at it," I said.
Ashley chuckled, and then when she realized I wasn't amused, she stopped altogether. "I haven't shot that much."
"As much as I have. The way you guys are talking, you were confused on how to hold the damn thing."
"Miranda," Nathan said in his infuriatingly smooth voice.
"I'm just curious." I tried a smile, hoping it would cover how crazy I felt, and how awful I was for being angry that my sister was happy.
Ashley looked down at the table, the light that had come back to her eyes snuffed out. "It was just never my thing."
The corners of her mouth evened out, and she rolled her food around on her plate with her fork, returning to the same lifeless vessel that she'd been since Cooper died.
Bryce shot me a look. I didn't have to ask him what he was thinking. I knew he was angry that I'd been so hard on her, and he should have been. I was angry with myself.
"I'm sorry, Ashley. I didn't mean--"
"It's fine," she said, her face devoid of emotion.
I sat back in my chair, feeling judgment from everyone at the table. I deserved it, so I sat there, letting them glare, stare, or shake their heads. I wasn't sure who was the angriest. I wasn't brave enough to look up from my plate.
*
AFTER THE LIGHTS WENT OUT, Bryce tried to tug me out of the recliner. "You coming?"
I nodded. "I'll be there in a bit. I'm not really tired."
He nodded back, resigned. After he disappeared in the hall and closed the door, I stood.
Joey was breathing hard but regular, facing the floor in the last half of a pushup. His face was red and moist, and as usual, he was without a shirt. The veins were bulging from his hands and arms.
Noticing my feet next to his face, Joey looked up at me.
"Can I talk to you outside for a minute?" I said, and then turned to go to the front porch. Joey came out, quietly shutting the door behind him.
Now that we were alone, and he was half naked, I fought to recall why I was angry in the first place.
"What's going on with you?" he asked.
"I saw you."
"Huh?"
"With Ashley. Earlier. What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Joey crossed his arms across his chest and shifted his weight nervously. "Um . . . teaching her to shoot?"
I laughed once without humor. "Oh, bullshit. You've taught me to shoot before. I don't remember your hands being all over me like that."
"My . . . what?"
"You heard me. I saw you!"
Joey's expression morphed from surprise to mild anger. "I didn't have my hands all over her, Miranda, you're being ridiculous. And you knew what you were doing pretty well before we went out because you've shot before."
"So has she!"
"Well, then she's not as good as you are."
"She is sad, Joey. Whatever you're thinking? Don't."
"Don't what? Maybe I'm stupid, so you'll have to tell me exactly what you're saying." He was getting defensive, which only made me angrier.
"I'm saying Ashley is my sister. I love her. She just lost the love of her life, and she's vulnerable. I don't know how much more clear I can be, so let me just say it: I don't want her to be taken advantage of."
"You don't really think I would do that," Joey said, seething. When I didn't answer, his expression changed again. "Do you really think so little of me that I would try to fly under the radar to get into her pants? While she's grieving?"
"No, that's not what I'm saying, I'm--"
"Good, because if you really think I'm that big of a piece of shit, what have we been doing?"
"We haven't done anything!"
"You know what I mean!"
"Wait, did you mean that when she's not grieving anymore you'll try to get in her pants?"
"What?" he said, clearly trying to remember when he'd said anything remotely close to that. He shook his head, completely flustered. "You have to know me better than that. You have to know how I feel about you. She's your sister. I would never . . ."
"Yes. I do know you, and I know you've lost someone, too, so I thought maybe you felt like you two had something in common."
"So it's not that you think I'd pull a dick move like that, but you wanted to warn me not to make a dick move like that."
"No! I don't think you're an asshole, I just think you're both . . . maybe not thinking about what it means if you get together just because you're alone."
"So you came down here to make sure I wasn't trying to get close with your sister because you didn't think I would try to get close with your sister?"
"Yes!"
"You're not making any sense!" He turned his back on me and walked a few steps in the other direction, and then turned to face me. "Or maybe you are."
I watched him for a long time. I wasn't sure if I was embarrassed or angry or both, but that smug smile that I hated and loved was spread wide across his face. I flipped my wrist and showed him my middle finger. "Maybe you are an asshole." I turned on my heels for the stairs, but Joey flipped me around and then his mouth was on mine. After the initial surprise, I gripped his skin and pulled him against me just as his tongue slid into my mouth. He smelled like two days of sweat and dirt, and I'm sure I did, too, but I couldn't get close enough to him. I wanted more of his mouth on mine, more of his arms around me, more of his hands on more of my skin, but he pulled away.
By the look on his face and the glimmer of sadness in his eyes, kissing me had brought back a memory. Maybe I deserved it, loving someone who loved someone else.
"Wow, I'm sorry," he whispered, stumbling backward. "I can't believe I just did that."
"It's okay," I said, reaching out for him, desperate to make him feel better.
"I can't do this to Dana."
My eyes filled with tears. "You're not doing anything wrong. I know you loved her, but Dana's not here."
"But Bryce is."
His words sliced through me like an axe. He wasn't doing anything wrong, but I was.
"We're going all the way to Shallot again," he said. "I've got an early morning and a long day, and when we get back, Skeeter wants to dig ditches around the perimeter. I need to rest."
I nodded, stepping backward a few times before finally opening the door. It would have been just my luck to run into someone, maybe even Bryce, as I retreated into the living room with wet cheeks. When I walked in, I was alone. Nathan and Zoe had more than likely heard us go outside, and probably heard us yelling. Everyone probably heard us yelling.
I wiped my eyes quickly, and took a few steps toward the laundry room. I could hear Scarlet's whisper in my mind. I wouldn't. If she were still married to Andrew and stuck in this house with him and Nathan, maybe she would.
I lost my nerve, and then crept back into my bedroom, took one look at Bryce sleeping on my side of the bed, and sat in the chair in the corner. He usually fell asleep fairly quickly after his head hit the pillow, so he did that when he was waiting for me to come to bed, knowing he would wake up when I pulled the covers back to crawl in to my side. I wasn't sure if I'd stayed with him so long because I loved him, or if I just didn't have a good enough reason to ask for an ending. Either way, I was crawling in bed with the man who loved me, wishing he was the man I loved.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nathan
"NEED MORE WATER?" MIRANDA CALLED.
I poked my head over the edge. "Sure," I said. It was hard to guess on top of the roof, but I was willing to bet the temperature was easily over a hundred degrees.
Miranda climbed the ladder with another large glass, taking my nearly empty one.
"You know what I miss?" I said. "Ice."
Miranda smiled. "Oh my God. I do, too. But I'm sure we'll get some this
winter, and then we won't miss it so much."
I laughed. "You're probably right."
Miranda climbed back down, and I squinted from the glare. Scarlet and the others had been clearing for three days, and I hoped they would be back soon. I'd seen a pillar of smoke earlier that morning in that direction, and I hoped it wasn't some sort of signal from them that they needed help. I didn't bother telling Miranda. We couldn't risk taking the girls, and it was too dangerous for one of us to go alone, anyway.
I ate lunch on the roof, and then climbed down, waiting to make sure Miranda got situated up top before I went inside. Elleny was tidying up after lunch, and Zoe was coloring on the few nubs left of her crayons. I hoped that if Scarlet had time to stop at the store in Shallot, she would think to pick up Zoe some more--if they had any--and then I laughed at how oddly normal that thought was.
"Nathan! I see them!" Miranda yelled. Her voice was muffled, so I wanted to be sure I heard her right.
"You see them?" I said, stepping out onto the porch. She didn't answer, so I crawled up the ladder. She was looking through her scope, her lip quivering.
"What is it? What do you see?" Miranda looked at me then, her eyes red and threatening to fill with tears.
After they got a little closer, I squinted in their direction. "Don't panic," I said, realizing what had her so upset. "It might not be what you think."
I turned, watching the group cut across the yard. I crawled down the ladder, with Miranda right behind me, and met Scarlet just in front of the porch. It was obvious the news wasn't good.
"I'm sorry," she said, looking to Miranda. "I'm so sorry."
Miranda's hands shook as she covered her mouth. "No."
"We were pinned down. He was going to lead them away, but he never came back."
Miranda sucked in a breath. Elleny and Zoe came outside. Elleny hugged Scarlet tightly, and Zoe hugged Skeeter.
"Are you sure? Did you look for him?" I asked.
Skeeter nodded, his eyes sad. "I found him. I put him down."
Miranda fell on her knees and wailed, covering her face. Ashley came outside wide-eyed, and kneeled beside her sister. "Are you okay?" she asked. She looked up at us. "Where's Joey?"
Bryce stared down at Miranda, blank-faced. "He didn't make it."
Miranda leaned forward and screamed, unable to conceal her pain. Ashley held her, glancing up at Bryce. He was tearing up, watching his girlfriend mourn Joey the way Ashley had mourned Cooper. Finally, it became too much, and he went into the house.
Skeeter looked over to me with a frown. "Am I the only one confused as hell?"
"Yes," I said, not knowing what else to say.
"Maybe it wasn't him," Miranda sniffed. Her eyes brightened with hope.
"It was him," Scarlet said. "I'm so sorry. This is my fault."
Miranda's face hardened, and she stood, pushing Ashley away. "You're goddamn right this is your fault. Everyone here thinks I'm the selfish bitch, but you take the cake, Scarlet! You got him killed! And for what? Your dead kids?"
"Miranda, that's enough!" I growled. My tone surprised even me.
Miranda sucked air in through her noise. Ashley reached for her again. "Get off me!" she cried, exhaling in tiny sobs. "Get off me." She climbed the ladder to the roof, crying alone.
Scarlet swallowed and looked up at me from beneath her brow. "Is she right?"
"No," I said simply, taking her into my arms. I kissed her hair, unsure of what else to say.
Scarlet
NONE OF US WERE IN the mood to eat, so I just made the girls a plate of peanut butter crackers and called it good. I sat on the couch, drinking water, trying to forget the way Joey looked before Skeeter put a bullet in his forehead.
He hadn't told Miranda the whole truth. Joey did lead the teds away from the safe house, and he didn't come back, but when we went looking for him at first light, I was the one who had found him. I just couldn't pull the trigger. Joey was stumbling toward me, his neck and arms chewed in parts to the bone. I knew it was my fault that he was dead, and I couldn't be the one responsible for his death a second time. Skeeter held me with one arm while he put Joey down.
I took another sip, and then went out to the porch to wait. I could hear Miranda on the roof. Even though I knew I was the last person she wanted to see, I decided to join her.
"Hey," I said when I reached the top rung.
Miranda didn't even bother to respond, she just laughed once, incredulous.
I sat down a few feet from her. We didn't speak; I just wanted to wait where I could see farther down the road. After about ten minutes, the sky turned, marking the beginning of sunset.
"You're doing this so I can see that you still think they're alive. So Joey didn't die for nothing."
"No, I'm just waiting for my girls."
"You have two inside."
I sighed. "I have two more inside, yes."
"You know what? It doesn't matter whether you think they're alive or not. Their lives are no more important than Joey's, or Bryce's, or Skeeter's . . . or Nathan's."
"Nathan's?"
"He will die if something happens to you. Do you see Ashley? Empty and hopeless? That will be Nathan one of these days after you get yourself killed."
The thought made me sick to my stomach, but didn't change my mind. "I take total responsibility for Joey. You're right. It's my fault. But I can't apologize for doing whatever I can to help my little girls get to me safely, and I won't turn down anyone that wants to help."
Miranda craned her neck at me. "No one else will say it, Scarlet, but I will: You can go fuck yourself and your stupid idea to clear the way for your girls. There are more infected out there than humans. You're never going to clear them all, and one of these days you're going to hack into one of their heads with your hatchet, and you're going to realize too late that it was Jenna or Halle. But it won't matter, anyway, because they're fucking dead!" With the last words, Miranda screamed, clenched her eyes shut, and shook her head, her hair sticking to the sweat on her face.
I closed my eyes, trying to stop her screams from forming pictures in my mind. "Miranda . . ."
"Will you admit it, then?" she said, her eyes both angry and desperate.
"I don't know. I don't know what will happen to me if I have to admit they're not coming."
"They're. Not. Coming."
A tear escaped my eye, and I quickly wiped it away. "I don't believe that."
"Scarlet!" Nathan screamed from the porch. He climbed the ladder, his eyes wide. "Are you looking?"
"What?"
"Look! Look at the hill!"
I narrowed my eyes to focus, seeing two small figures walking up the red hill. Skeeter was standing in the yard, yelling and waving his arms. The figures began to run, and it was then that I realized it was Halle and Jenna.
A sob exploded from my throat. "Oh my God!" I cried. "It's them! It's my babies!"
They were alone. I could barely process what that might mean, or what they'd gone through, but in that moment, the only thing I could do was scramble for the ladder.
Nathan climbed down a few rungs, and then jumped the rest of the way down, knowing I was in a hurry.
"Scarlet? Scarlet!" Miranda screamed.
I looked to her, and then to the field where she was pointing, seeing a herd of about two dozen infected limping and stumbling toward my daughters. "Oh, Jesus! No! No!" I began climbing down the ladder, but Nathan stopped me. "Stay on the roof! You're the best shot! I'll go get them!"
Reluctantly, I nodded and climbed back up to my perch on the roof. I knew he was right, and the best thing I could do for my daughters was to pick off the infected from high ground. Nathan, Skeeter, and Bryce, with various weapons in hand, ran off to reach my girls before anything else did.
Jenna and Halle were still running toward the house, but they would be cut off by the herd that was walking through the field toward them. They had no idea what was hiding behind the wheat, but they didn't stop running, even whe
n I began to shoot into the field.
"Jesus! Jesus, Scarlet!" Miranda said. She scrambled to the ladder and then climbed down, sprinting at full speed toward the road, screaming for the girls to hurry.
Ashley chased after her a few steps before Miranda pointed back at her. "Stay with the kids, Ashley! Stay with the kids!"
Ashley tossed her sister a handgun, and then looked up at me. I pressed my cheek against the rifle, looking through the scope. I pulled the bolt handle, aimed, and pulled the trigger, taking out the first infected. I leaned my face away. "Run, Jenna! Run to the house! They're in the field! In the field!"
Jenna slowed down and looked around. She couldn't see them coming.
"Run!" I screamed.
Jenna looked behind her, took Halle's hand, and took off toward Nathan and Skeeter. I could hear the boys calling to my children, motioning for them to hurry. I could hear Halle's frightened cry carry across the muggy summer evening air.
I pulled the bolt handle again, aimed, and shot. Grabbing another bullet, I loaded it into the chamber, and then repeated the process. I'd had so much practice over the summer that I barely had to look to load the bullets, but the more shufflers I put down, the more there seemed to be.
The first of the infected emerged from the wheat. Jenna stopped and leaned back so hard she fell backward, taking Halle with her.
I kept shooting, and the boys and Miranda yelled to get the attention of the herd. A wall of bodies was created between my friends and my daughters, with infected fanning out in both directions.
The girls hugged each other and screamed. "Mommy!" Jenna cried. "Mommy!"
I swallowed back my fear and continued shooting, focusing on the walking dead that were reaching for my daughters. I was sure Nathan and the others were killing every undead thing in their path, but the girls were defenseless.
My hands shook as I reloaded, but I forced myself to stay focused, to put down anything that got too close to my kids. Suddenly, Nathan emerged from the opposite field and grabbed the girls. They screamed at first, and then Nathan pushed them behind him. I aimed at the infected closest to him and put it down, but there were three more behind it, and I couldn't reload fast enough.
Nathan shoved the closest one away, but as I was reloading a gunshot went off. The infected fell. Skeeter reloaded and shot again. Through my scope, I could see Nathan say something to the girls. They nodded, and then they disappeared into the north field.
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