“No,” Whelan replied, then, “not yet. We’ll run out a hell of a lot faster if that many keep turning up.”
Well, this was a positive way to start the day.
“Besides,” he continued, “we were fine because we were awake, Sadie, ready. But there’s no predicting when they’ll turn up. If we’re swarmed at the wrong time…” He paused, fixing his gaze on the flames at his feet. Shane made a soft sound of confusion or maybe fear. I put my hand on his head, hoping it was enough to ease his anxieties, at least until I could come up with something encouraging to say.
“I get it,” I said. “Crap. I thought we’d left all this behind in Seattle.”
“Wherever you go…”
“There they are.”
Whelan nodded. He had changed out of his blue polo and into an oversized fisherman’s cardigan, gray and speckled like a wren’s egg. I caught a glimpse of something dark at the collar, a tattoo maybe. The baked beans began to bubble, drawing my attention, their scent and sound making my mouth water. Baked beans weren’t a natural follow-up to oatmeal, but when you haven’t been eating well …
“Still hungry?” he asked, chuckling. I wondered if maybe my stomach had yowled and I hadn’t heard it.
“You bet.”
When Whelan handed me my bowl, I saw that he gave me a slightly bigger portion. Ludicrous, considering our respective sizes, but I accepted the small gesture with a grateful smile. After Shane received his portion, I discreetly leaned over and shoveled most of my extras into his bowl.
Whelan ate with his eyes in his beans. Over his shoulder I watched Noah and Moritz chatting in front of one of the cabins. Moritz watched us, his mouth moving, responding to Noah and all the while his gaze lingered on me, or Whelan, I couldn’t tell. I shivered.
“We need to make more arrows for that bow of yours,” Whelan said. Isabella and Teresa had found their way down to the beach. Cassandra tagged along at a distance, laughing and skipping, putting her feet into the divots their shoes had left in the sand. The girls soon began sword fighting with driftwood. Cassandra watched, her toes in the surf, just close enough to the water to make me nervous. Maybe the little girls would help bring Cassandra out of her shell. Stefano wasn’t down there with the girls, which struck me as remarkably laissez-faire. But this was their camp. They knew best.
It was shaping up to be a bright, mild day with just the softest cool breeze rolling in from the water.
“You can have it,” I said. “The bow, I mean. I’m not any good with it.”
“Then where’d the arrows go, hm?” He smiled. That motherfucking dimple was back. It was a start.
“One’s in a lumberjack’s leg and the other’s in his face.”
“You shot some zombies?” Shane’s eyes went wide.
I blushed.
“I was lucky. Really lucky.”
“So let me get this straight,” Whelan said. His spoon plopped down into his bowl, splattering his hand with bean juice. “You went into the woods, alone, armed with a homemade bow and a handful of arrows?”
“I had a knife too.”
“Sadie…”
“Yeah, okay, it wasn’t the brightest idea I’ve ever had. But desperation makes you do funny things,” I said. I shrugged over my beans, feeling sheepish at his implication that I was, for lack of a better description, fucking insane. “I wanted to get food for us. It didn’t turn out like I expected.”
“Sounds to me like that bow’s in good hands,” he said, softening. “You hang on to it. And kill us a deer or two if it’s not too much trouble.” He held up a spoonful of beans. “Red meat could make you a lot of friends around here.”
I smiled back at him, wondering if I should feel this relaxed after a wave of zombies came for us at the camp. The two girls down on the beach began laughing, and then one of them burst into tears, holding her arm. She had lost the sword fight. They were still awfully close to the edge of the water. Cassandra rushed forward, kneeling to help Teresa, who was the smaller of the two sisters and had fallen to her sister’s blows.
“You know they could be coming from the mainland,” I said quietly.
“Who? The undead? You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I wish I was. That’s how we lost our captain. He was fishing off the boat and one of those things yanked him into the water. They almost got me too,” I said. My ankle throbbed right on cue. The bruise lingered, just about to fade. I put my hand on Shane’s shoulder, hoping the mention of the event wouldn’t upset him.
“Your ankle,” he said. So he had seen more than just the spines in my feet. Observant. “How deep was the water?”
“Well … too deep.”
“Shit.” Whelan coughed. “I mean, shoot.”
Whelan stared at me, unflinchingly. A tendon worked like a piston below his ear. He was afraid. I couldn’t help but share in his renewed dread. His eyes narrowed, and he squinted, sizing me up maybe or rethinking some estimation he had made previously. This was new information, important information. I hated being the bearer of bad news, but—to be honest—I didn’t mind the feeling that I was now someone to be trusted and looked to for advice.
“The one that tried to drag you down in the tide pool … He wasn’t a fluke. They can handle themselves in the water.” I glanced over my shoulder at Isabella and Teresa again, just in case. Whelan seemed to pick up on my concern.
“No,” he murmured, “that’s north. They’d come from the east. If they’re crossing the water they’d come from the east.”
“Mainland?”
He nodded. A piece of dark hair fell over his forehead and he shook it away impatiently. I tried to swallow another spoonful of beans but they had gone lukewarm and tasted too sugary sweet.
“It doesn’t make sense,” he said after a long stretch of silence. “I mean, supposing they are filtering over from the mainland. Why us? We’re so few here. Unless everyone on the mainland…”
“Is dead?” I laughed. “No way. We’re probably just closer. Or maybe they have refined tastes.” Neither of us could rustle up a chuckle. Near the cabins, Noah and Moritz stopped talking. Moritz ducked inside, taking one last glance at me as he did so.
“Whatever the reason,” Whelan said, standing, “I’ll add a watch on the docks and to the east and hope that that’s enough.”
I nodded, thinking what a stupid word that was. Enough? Looking down at my lukewarm beans I shifted, anxious in my own skin, anxious under a sudden weight. Your defenses were always enough, until they weren’t.
TWELVE
“Clams! Clams! A love affair begins.” Andrea dipped her head down into the wooden bowl filled with steaming, fragrant shellfish. “I could die right now and be happy.”
“Please don’t say that.”
I was on edge. I realized I hadn’t drawn anything in days. That energy stored up inside can make me jumpy and out of sorts. And besides that, my discussion with Whelan over baked beans had helped a cold suspicion settle in my chest.
I had half-hoped Whelan would brush off my suggestion that the undead were coming over from the mainland. But he hadn’t brushed it off, not at all. He was spooked. Together, he and I were the only dash of ill temper at an otherwise rousing success. The clams, and also Banana’s rum, had given us southerners a good excuse to mingle with the northerners.
No Mason-Dixon bitterness here. So far introductions were going swimmingly.
To my surprise, Cassandra took a shine to—of all people—Danielle. The presence of little Isabella and Teresa seemed to make the nurse more lighthearted too. The little girls flitted around the fire playing tag with their dark hair turned burnished gold from the flames, while Shane looked on with a disdainful little scowl on his chubby face. Danielle had managed to coax Cassandra out of her disgusting scrubs and into a candy pink T-shirt and white denim shorts. The change in Cassandra’s mood was startling.
Even Moritz, like the chosen cuisine of the evening, was coming out of his shell. And despite a bad mood f
lickering on the horizon, at least I could see that Andrea was looking healthier. With food and water in abundance, her face was looking less gaunt and desperate. She smiled more. She looked pretty. Everyone did, the raging fires giving us a healthy glow, the weather holding out to bless us with a perfect, mild evening. The clams and booze didn’t hurt, either.
But Whelan and I, like fidgety, sober parents overseeing a prom party, hovered on the fringes of the celebration. I didn’t enjoy casting my crotchety shadow over the festivities, and the clams really were excellent and fresh, but some worries you just can’t shake off.
“Something up?”
I nearly dropped my bowl of clams. Banana stood right next to my shoulder. I should’ve smelled the Aquanet. At least if the undead ambushed us Banana would have a badass supply of flame-throwing materials at the ready. I wouldn’t light a match in her presence.
“Just a little distracted,” I said. “And tipsy!” I made a flailing stab at lightheartedness. Banana wasn’t impressed. In the firelight, the silk handkerchief bundling up her hair sparkled; so did her eyes.
“You look like someone pissed in your drink.”
I looked down at my half-empty cup. “What a delightful figure of speech.”
“You can be coy or you can come clean,” she said. “I’m only offering a service.”
“I didn’t think the transition would go this smoothly,” I said, gesturing to the others. That was true, even if it wasn’t really what was weighing heavily on my mind.
“The sky ain’t always falling.”
I should have grabbed onto that sentiment and clutched it for dear life. But instead I went on sulking and let Banana wander over to Moritz and Noah, who seemed happy to have her company. I felt like making a speech or at least giving everyone a warning, but every time I worked up the courage to open my mouth, I saw Whelan brooding over his drink. I didn’t want to encourage panic and, selfishly, I didn’t want to be the one spoiling the party. But I couldn’t keep quiet. Not this time.
“Would everyone mind gathering around for a minute?” I called, clearing my throat and waiting for the chatter and laughter to die down. Whelan shot me a look, but I ignored it. With so many happy faces staring at me, it was hard to find the right words. “It’s been great getting to know you all and I’m glad we’re all having a good time, but there’s something I wanted to say. It’s going to be a downer, so I apologize for that.”
“Boo,” Andrea heckled, chuckling.
“I know, sue me.” With a shrug I continued, “I’m sure we’re all aware that it’s important to be safe and cautious but…” I hoped Andrea wouldn’t hate me too much for bringing it up. “We suffered a tragedy on the way here because we didn’t know any better. It’s scary to think about and it sucks, but we realized that the water is just as dangerous as land.”
“What Sadie is trying to say,” Whelan cut in abruptly, “is that they could attack us from the water. We have to adjust accordingly.”
“What?” Banana asked with a gasp. “The water? I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” I replied. “We saw it happen.”
“Life of the party, these two,” Andrea muttered. But she nodded when I looked at her, agreeing with the decision to tell the others. Danielle joined Banana in voicing her outrage and surprise. I sidled back toward Andrea, wishing I could disappear for being the doomsayer. But Shane gave me a nod too, and his acceptance made the bitter pill go down easier.
Later, the night took a turn for the pleasant, for all of us. Banana gathered us together, teasing good-naturedly until we all agreed to sit in a lopsided circle. She stood in the middle, clearing her throat and sipping her drink for courage before announcing the night’s entertainment.
“We’re all going to sing,” she said, pointing significantly at each of us in turn. “And I don’t want to hear any complaining. And if you don’t sing loud enough well then you’ll just have to do a solo, got it?”
Shane shifted nervously, looking to me for help.
“It’s okay,” I said in a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ll sing extra loud for both of us.”
He smiled, his shoulders lifting a little as he turned his attention back to Banana.
First came, “I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts.” It turned out the kids didn’t know that one so well—which was probably a positive, considering the slightly bawdy lyrics—and it fell to the adults to pick up the slack. Poor Moritz struggled, baffled by the lyrics, joining in only when we reached the memorable chorus. Isabella and Teresa laughed along, drumming first Stefano and then Danielle on the shoulders.
“Hakuna Matata” proved a much easier choice for the kidlets, although Moritz found himself similarly stymied and Banana mercilessly chose him to sing a solo of about half the song. Teresa, taking pity on the man, got up and helped him, swinging his hand in time to the rhythm and singing louder to drown out the times he blundered the words.
“One more song,” Whelan cautioned as Moritz was allowed to sit down again. “Since I think we’ve already alerted every walker from here to Addis Ababa.”
He stalked the perimeter of the circle, turning on a flashlight to sweep the sand and the area surrounding the campfire for any unwelcome guests. Isabella and Teresa were quick to pull him back, one falling on his ankle, the other launching onto his shoulders. Whelan put up a valiant fight against their giggling, slogging back to the song circle with Teresa clinging like a barnacle to his ankle. He pretended to go down, grunting dramatically as they pushed him down into the sand.
Whelan’s punishment for leaving was a song of his own. The group came to the conclusion that “YMCA” was suitably humiliating, but the girls were kind enough to act as his backup dancers, twirling, forgetting half the time to make the usual letters with their arms.
Looking around, listening to the laughter, seeing that even Cassandra was getting into the spirit of things and that Danielle, for once, wasn’t seething at me, it made me think that maybe Banana was right. Things could be permanent here. Maybe Shane wouldn’t get to go to school like other kids and sure, a place like Liberty Village would afford more opportunities for a “normal” upbringing, but there could be fuzzy, good things happening here too. And even if it wasn’t permanent, Shane might take away memories that weren’t all about struggling to eke out an existence or just get by.
So when, the next morning, I woke up to screaming, I wasn’t only surprised but also deeply disappointed. We had been so close to … something. Something that made the fright of fleeing Seattle and the danger of the boat seem worth it.
Suddenly, I wondered if I’d open the cabin door to see the beach flooded with zombies. But the campsite was exactly as we’d left it the night before, a little dirty and scattered with dishes, but otherwise familiar. The only noticeable difference was the screaming.
Andrea and I woke at the same time and together we stumbled out of the cabin, bleary-eyed and half-dressed. Shane tumbled out after us, both fists buried in his eyes as he tried to wake up. We fit right in with the others, who stood in a semicircle around Stefano and Danielle’s cabin. They, too, were in their pajamas, barefoot and staring.
“They’re gone! Fuck, fuck, how could this happen? They know not to wander off!”
“Who’s gone?” I whispered, silently slipping into the half-circle next to Whelan.
“The girls,” he murmured. His voice was hoarse. “Isabella and Teresa.”
“Gone as in dead, or gone as in—”
“Vanished,” Whelan finished, shooting me a black look. “Disappeared.”
Oh, no. At least we had warned about water zombies, but that wasn’t enough. Stefano broke down into tears, hiding his face in Danielle’s shoulder. She stroked his spiky forest of bleached hair, giving Andrea, and especially me, a stabby glare. Right. Just by virtue of being new, we were somehow responsible for two little kids wandering off in the night. I couldn’t help it; I crossed my arms over my chest defensively.
“So where are they
?” Danielle asked. Her voice was high-pitched and whining, like hot pink manicured nails on a chalkboard. If she were one of those weird, acid-spitting dinosaurs her rainbow-colored lizard collar would be flaring up around her pointy face. I wasn’t actually certain I could take Danielle if we came to blows—I’d probably ricochet right off of her bouncy-castle chest.
“Really? You want to start this?”
“Calm down,” Whelan said, addressing both of us. He turned to Stefano. “Kids are curious. Sometimes they get frightened by dreams or maybe a sound and they wander and get lost.”
“Not Isabella,” Stefano wailed, “and not Teresa!”
“He’s right,” Danielle said, turning up her nose. “They’re smart girls. They know better.”
Another pointed look in my direction. Oh, Danielle was a smooth operator, all right—she knew just how to push my buttons. One more snotty glance and I’d be pleased as punch to wring her neck.
“As much as I’d love for this to turn into Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, we should make up search parties,” I said. “Quickly.”
Whelan nodded. Banana and Nate had come to investigate the trouble, the others bringing up the rear behind them. Poor Noah looked like he was still asleep, shuffling forward with his eyes almost completely closed, his dark hair mussed and sticking up in every direction. Cassandra still wore the pink T and white shorts from the night before. She went to stand next to Danielle.
“Good, you’re all up,” Whelan said. “We’ve got work to do.”
I was asked to join the group going, presumably, into the most dangerous part of the island. Whelan would be going in this group, along with Moritz and Andrea. Nate was the other team leader, since each group would need someone who was handy with a rifle. Banana volunteered to stay behind at the camp and guard Shane. Unsurprisingly, Cassandra refused to go with anyone but Danielle. I had no complaints about that. I wasn’t the only person to notice their budding friendship.
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