Race to Refuge

by Craig, Liz

  Mallory hesitated and looked at the hand I had outstretched for her to shake. Slowly, she reached out to shake it. “It wasn’t about you,” she said softly.

  “I know that,” I said with a smile. “Because you don’t even know me.”

  It got a little easier from that point. We had a good working relationship for the next couple of weeks. But it wasn’t exactly what I wanted from Mallory. I wanted more.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Mallory

  Like anything new, it took a few weeks for me to feel like I’d really settled in at Crepe Myrtle Lane. For one thing, Annie’s appearance had totally unnerved me and the fact that I hadn’t seen her since didn’t exactly make me relieved. It only meant that she was still out there somewhere.

  I saw exactly why Ginny was such a fan of her brother. Ty was a great kid and completely changed my opinion of teens. He was mature and capable and a hard worker.

  And Charlie seemed warm and funny and smart. The only problem was me. I had this huge emotional and mental barrier I had to somehow get past. My relationship with Brendan had been damaging in many ways and one of those ways was the fact it eroded my ability to trust. I was working to get over it, but it was tough.

  One day, a few weeks after we’d moved in, Ty went out for his shift of weed pulling and crop watering and Ginny was tossing the ball to a joyful Mojo. It was a hot summer day and I was trying to clean our dirty laundry by hand so that I could hang it outside and dry it. Charlie was in the front yard, building more shelves so we could better organize food and other supplies.

  My blood ran cold when I heard it. A sharp, alarmed, throaty warning bark from Mojo and a piercing scream from Ginny. Everyone was outside, so with shaking hands I found the gun that I hadn’t shot since the day Ty and Charlie joined us.

  I yanked open the door and saw Mojo lunging back and forth between Ginny and the back of a disfigured, gaunt form dressed in an outfit that I recognized. Annie. And Annie, or what had been Annie, was standing between Ginny and the safety of the house.

  Charlie ran around the side of the house and stopped at the sight. Ty quickly joined him. “Ginny! Run into the woods!”

  But like a bad nightmare, Ginny seemed immobile, eyes fixed in horror at the creature that had been my friend. I remembered she’d done much the same when we’d seen the zombie woman at the shack in the woods.

  Charlie said, “Mallory, unlock the front door and I’ll come in and grab the gun.”

  “There’s no time,” I said, suddenly feeling a calmness and a certainty that I hadn’t felt in a long while. This was something I needed to do. And Annie wouldn’t have had it any other way.

  “Ginny, you don’t have to try to run,” I said in a measured tone. “I know you’re shaking and scared. Just move to your right.”

  Ginny, white-faced, stumbled off to the right with Mojo backing up to protectively hover in front of her, showing his teeth.

  With a strength, resolve, and ability that seemed to come from nowhere, I jogged up closer to Annie so there would be no misses and no accidental friendly fire toward anyone else, and pointing the gun at her head, put her down.

  Then I was the one shaking. Hard. Silent tears ran down my face. But when Charlie folded me into his embrace, I finally felt myself really relax and release all of the fear, mistrust, and hurt into his capable hands. The past was in the past.

  Ginny and Ty both joined in our embrace and from that point on, we were a family.

  Epilogue

  Mallory

  In some ways, I’d never felt safer in my life. I had a real family for the first time. People who actually cared for each other and worked for a real purpose—sustainability. There were some days, it’s true, that I didn’t want to feel like a pioneer family and grow crops, weed, and can and chop wood for fuel. But I got something out of it that I didn’t get when I was working in government: a feeling of purpose. And I think Charlie felt the same way. It’s why he quit sales in the first place.

  Ty had become a good hunter and I soon started feeling more relaxed about him and Charlie heading off into the woods to hunt. I even showed them what Joshua had taught me about snare hunting. Every once in a while there would be a lone infected soul that would wander into our patch and they’d be quickly taken out. We all agreed that was the best way to handle infected people: it was the most humane approach for them and for us. Although I wonder if I ever really got over poor Annie.

  The seeds that Ty took from the country store ended up coming in particularly handy and we all learned a lot about gardening.

  There was, in some ways, a sameness to the days, although I did track them on a homemade calendar since old habits die hard. It was for this reason that I knew it had been several months after our arrival at the house when we got an unexpected, live, visitor.

  It was a late spring evening when there was a knock at our door right after we’d finished supper. We froze, even though we knew zombies didn’t knock. They might scratch sometimes, but they never rapped on a door with such authority. Just to be on the safe side, Ty had a hand on his gun as Charlie and I answered the door.

  There was a very nonthreatening-looking man wearing a short-sleeved button-down shirt with a couple of pens in the pocket. He had heavy glasses and sturdy walking shoes and carried a briefcase. He looked every bit the role of a mild-mannered accountant of some kind.

  “Good evening,” he said briskly, reaching in his briefcase and pulling out a legal pad and removing a pen out of his pocket. He glanced behind him. “Are your woods safe or should I come inside?”

  “And you are—?” asked Charlie in a friendly but still wary voice. You just never knew these days. As innocuous as this guy appeared, you really just never knew.

  “Sorry,” he said, pulling out a business card and presenting it to us. “I’m Arthur Wilson, a census taker for the United States Government. I’m taking a special census to determine surviving pockets of uninfected people and where they’re centered. Additionally, I’m also supplying information to these possibly isolated pockets.”

  I felt Ginny’s hand on mine and I gave it a little squeeze to let her know everything was okay.

  “In that case,” I said, “Please come inside. It’s safe out there, yes, but you’re probably ready for a break from the road.”

  The man bobbed his head in thanks and trotted in, settling himself at a desk in the front room. “So there are four of you here? Are you an intact family or a created family?”

  As we answered all his census questions, the questions and our answers reminded me once again how much things had changed in this new world. The new normal was radically different from the old one.

  When Arthur had finished with his questions, he carefully closed his legal pad and put his pen back into his pocket. He was starting to stand when Charlie raised his hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said in that friendly but still authoritative voice. “Now we need some information in return.”

  “Of course,” said the little man, quickly. He sat back down, folded his hands in his lap, and prepared to deliver a speech he’d apparently given quite a few times before. Clearing his throat, he opened his mouth and then rapidly closed it again, staring at Charlie. “Excuse me, but are those scars from a bite?”

  “More than one bite, I’d say,” answered Charlie coolly.

  “From an Infected,” continued Arthur, raptly staring at the scars.

  “That’s right. If that’s what you call them,” said Charlie.

  “With absolutely no repercussions. That is, you were not harmed.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say absolutely no repercussions, because it hurt like heck and I had to put all kinds of ointments and bandages on it. But if you mean repercussions like, did I start going around savagely attacking people, then no,” said Charlie a bit impatiently now.

  “Very interesting,” breathed the census taker. “I’ve actually come across only a couple of you in my travels, although there are rumors among the census tak
ers that there are quite a few more. We’re to ask a separate list of questions whenever we come across such a specimen.”

  He carefully flipped to the correct page of his notebook for these questions while Charlie rolled his eyes at us. I hid a smile, but Ty and Ginny couldn’t resist grinning.

  Arthur’s questions all related to Charlie’s vaccinations and when he’d received them. Charlie waggled his eyebrows at me. He’d been right. There appeared to be a connection.

  “Very interesting,” repeated the census taker at the completion of the questions. “Very interesting indeed.”

  “So does this mean that the US Government is working on a vaccine program to help prevent infection from spreading?” I asked.

  Arthur pursed his lips. “I don’t like to speculate on the workings of the US Government. It’s working at quite a reduced capacity, as you can imagine. It’s taking a while to gather information, too, obviously. Once they are able to secure and operate the power grid on at least a reduced basis, perhaps everyone will be able to log in to this census and make things go a bit faster. But yes, my understanding is that they’re planning to launch a vaccine program—but they want to make sure they understand where all the pockets of people are who would require such immunizations.”

  Charlie said, “And the other information you’ve got for us?”

  Arthur sat up a bit straighter in his desk chair. “Yes. Unfortunately, all of the major US cities were completely decimated. Those who were able to escape the cities, such as yourselves, tend to survive in rural areas in small pockets. The infection became a worldwide epidemic and the fate of international cities is apparently the same as ours.”

  It was a sobering thought that worldwide civilization had so quickly and easily been wiped out.

  “Also unfortunately, the population of Infecteds has run out of food supplies in the cities and has been migrating into rural areas. They invaded suburban areas first, and then to slightly more remote areas. But they were unable to survive without nourishment, and weren’t, for the most part, able to reach areas such as this one. They do lack the capacity to reason, which precipitated the demise of many of the Infecteds.”

  Arthur continued, “The remaining US military, which is mostly unharmed, does have plans to eliminate Infecteds. The most important thing I have to share with you is not to visit any urban areas. It will be dangerous, or deadly, to you.”

  “Hey, we have absolutely no desire to visit a zombie infested city,” said Charlie, holding up his hands in protest.

  “Not even for scavenging activities,” said Arthur severely.

  “No need to do that,” I said. “We are following a sustainability program here. We provide for ourselves.”

  “What exactly is the strategy in terms of dealing with the overrun cities?” asked Charlie curiously.

  The census taker pursed his lips again. “I’m not at liberty to discuss those plans.”

  “It’s not like we’re going to share them with zombies,” said Charlie in exasperation. “Even if they were able to listen to and make a plan.”

  Arthur hesitated. “All right. It involves the use of land mines in either a perimeter approach or on a main route in and out of a city.”

  Charlie nodded. “Land mines are terrible weapons. They should be banned for good by all nations. After we finish off the zombies.”

  Arthur nodded. “Testing has shown that the Infecteds don’t use enough reason to stop moving forward, even when waves of Infecteds are being annihilated in front of them. But the military first had to adapt the land mines to be more explosive, so they put out fragments at about five or six feet in height to kill zombies instead of merely maim them. Although maiming certainly assisted in slowing them down.”

  “It must be extremely dangerous for the military to set up these land mines, though,” Ty said. “Are there people spotting them?”

  Arthur said, “I’m pleased to report that the military has developed bite-proof armor. It’s unwieldy and wouldn’t be suitable or comfortable for daily wear, but it’s absolutely essential when working out in the field. I even have a suit in my sedan in case it becomes necessary.”

  Ty asked, “What are they like?”

  “There are different kinds, but they all appear equally effective. There is a type of chainmail, for one.”

  Charlie gave a short laugh. “You mean like the kind that knights would wear? I guess there’s no biting through that.”

  “Precisely. And the regular military armor, made of Kevlar and ceramic, doesn’t do badly, either. There are more types of armor being developed.”

  I suddenly felt like flying a US flag out the front of the cabin. It’s amazing how a capable military can make you feel very patriotic.

  “What about the rural areas?” asked Ty.

  “That’s taking a bit longer, since the Infecteds are more scattered there. Some of them have been dispatched by armed citizens protecting their homes,” said Arthur.

  Charlie and I exchanged looks. I felt a pang again, thinking of Annie.

  “And some are being dispatched by soldiers with machine guns. They’ve found it’s easy to disable Infecteds by focusing on their legs and then permanently eliminating them by firing on them from there.” Arthur gave a sideways glance at Ginny, clearly tempering his speech to make it less gruesome for a younger audience.

  “So basically, I’m hearing that we should just stay tight. Wait for the military to do its job. Keep doing what we’re doing. And now that the government knows we’re here, we’ll get updated later on?” asked Charlie.

  “That’s correct. Although I am asked to inform you that there are quite a few government-run facilities that are operating as safe camps. You’re welcome to join one. I’ll provide you with a map showing the locations nearest you. Generally, they’re being run from rural prisons and schools,” said Arthur, pulling out a few maps from his briefcase.

  We passed them around. I gave Charlie a hesitant look. I knew one thing—I wanted to stay here. Why risk a possibly treacherous trip to live in the confines of a prison or school?

  I was relieved when Charlie glanced around at all of our faces and said, “Thanks, Arthur. But I have the feeling that we’re probably going to stay put. Please keep us updated, though.”

  As the census taker left, and we continued cleaning the kitchen a little more quietly than before his visit, Ginny said, “I’m so happy we’re staying.”

  Ty applauded her statement and I gave her a hug as Charlie grinned at her. I couldn’t imagine a safer refuge, surrounded by all the people that I loved.

  ***

  Liz also writes mysteries as Elizabeth Craig.Please sign up for Elizabeth’s free, no-spam newsletter for a free ebook: http://eepurl.com/kCy5j.

  About the Author:

  Liz (Elizabeth S. Craig) writes the Southern Quilting mysteries and Memphis Barbeque mysteries (as Riley Adams) for Penguin Random House and the Myrtle Clover series for Midnight Ink and independently. She blogs at ElizabethSpannCraig.com/blog, named by Writer’s Digest as one of the 101 Best Websites for Writers. Elizabeth makes her home in Matthews, North Carolina, with her husband and two teenage children.

  Acknowledgments:

  This was a fun and different project for me to take on. I couldn’t have done it without the loving support and encouragement of my family. Thanks to Coleman, Riley, and Elizabeth Ruth. In addition, I appreciated the skillful editing from the marvelous Judy Beatty. Thanks once again to Rik Hall for formatting the book for digital and print publication. And thanks to Andrei Bat for his cover design.

  Other Works by the Author:

  Myrtle Clover Series in Order:

  Pretty is as Pretty Dies

  Progressive Dinner Deadly

  A Dyeing Shame

  A Body in the Backyard

  Death at a Drop-In

  A Body at Book Club

  Death Pays a Visit

  A Body at Bunco

  Myrtle Clover Mysteries Sampler Volume 1
r />   Myrtle Clover Mysteries Sampler Volume 2

  Southern Quilting Mysteries in Order:

  Quilt or Innocence

  Knot What it Seams

  Quilt Trip

  Shear Trouble

  Tying the Knot

  Memphis Barbeque Mysteries in Order (Written as Riley Adams):

  Delicious and Suspicious

  Finger Lickin’ Dead

  Hickory Smoked Homicide

  Rubbed Out

  Where to Connect With Liz Craig (Elizabeth S. Craig):

  Facebook: Elizabeth Spann Craig Author

  Riley Adams, Author

  Twitter: @elizabethscraig

  Website: www.elizabethspanncraig.com

  Thanks so much for reading my book. I appreciate it. If you enjoyed the story, would you please leave a short review on the site where you purchased it? Just a few words would be great. Not only do I feel encouraged reading them, but they also help other readers discover my books. Thank you!