I wait, wondering how she’ll answer.
“I was a waitress,” she says.
Chloe wipes the sweat from her forehead. “Oh yeah, where?”
Silence, then, “A steakhouse in Spartanburg.”
Lie.
Most people would give the name of the establishment, not just a steakhouse, like it was some generic place to eat meat. Plus, she waited too long before answering.
Oblivious, Chloe closes her eyes. “Man, what I wouldn’t give for a nice, juicy steak right now.”
Meredith laughs, but like earlier, there’s no humor in it.
I look at Meredith. “Any kind of food would be awesome right now. Which dish was your go-to, Meredith?”
She looks at me, confused. “Huh?”
“You know...at the steakhouse. What was your favorite dish?”
She looks down at the road, refusing to meet my eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t guess I had one.”
Probably because you weren’t really a waitress, I think.
I decide to let the matter drop. For now. “I guess it doesn’t really matter now, anyway,” I say.
“Nope.”
With that, she moves ahead of Chloe and me, effectively shutting down further conversation. I watch her, thinking. Something isn't right. I’ll find out what she’s hiding, if it’s the last thing I do.
Chapter Seventeen
Chloe
The road to Asheville is a parking lot. On both sides. I hate traffic jams; the city surrounding the university was notorious for them. It was considered normal to only move three car lengths in an hour, especially during the 5 o’clock rush hour. On a good day. That was one thing I didn’t miss when I came back to Everly.
As bad as those traffic jams were, though, they always eased. Eventually.
I look at the four lanes of highway heading to and away from Asheville, and I’m hit with a sinking feeling; the poor souls on this road never saw the end of the traffic jam. It never eased long enough for them to reach their destination. The sorrow nearly brings me to my knees. It’s so unfair...all of it.
Worse, every day that passes with no foreseeable end to this nightmare causes my fragile faith to buckle just a little more beneath the weight of my doubt. What will happen to me when it finally snaps? What will happen to my soul when I die? Or, maybe I’m already dead, and this is the Lake of Fire my 3rd grade Sunday School teacher warned me about.
“What are you thinking about?” Daniel asks.
“Do you think this is Hell?”
“Not this again.” He stops walking and forces me to look at him. “No, I don’t think we’re in Hell right now any more than we were two months ago. You’ve got to stop torturing yourself, Chloe.”
“I’m not torturing myself, Daniel.”
“You’re still reading the Bible every time we stop to rest.”
“So?”
“And lately, it’s always turned to the book of Revelation,” he points out.
“Okay?” I say, waiting for him to make his point.
“Okay, so don’t you think that’s torturing yourself just a little bit? There has to be other, happier passages you could focus on.”
“What’s wrong? Why did we stop?” Meredith asks.
Daniel gestures to me. “Please tell Chloe that reading from the book of Revelation every day is depressing.”
Meredith looks between Daniel and me, then settles her gaze on me. Her blue-green eyes shine bright in the late afternoon sun. “The book of Revelation isn’t depressing, Chloe. It’s a story of better things to come.”
Daniel rolls his eyes. “Really?”
“He who sits on the throne said, Behold, I am making all things new[4],” she says, ignoring Daniel.
A tear slips down my cheek. I wipe it away. “That’s one of my favorite verses,” I tell her.
She looks at Daniel. “See? It’s not all bad.”
“What about this mess we’re in? Got any verses for that?” he asks.
“All the assemblies will know that I am he who searches the mind and heart. I will give to each one of you according to your deeds[5],” she recites, not missing a beat.
“Huh?”
“I believe God is finally paying us the wages of our sins. Now let’s get going...the day isn’t getting any younger.”
Daniel and I watch her turn to leave. I want to believe her words have meaning. I want to believe there is a divine plan at work, and that we might actually come out of this nightmare better people than we were before. But then I think about Daniel’s words, and wonder if he doesn’t have a point. Maybe I am just torturing myself.
* * *
Daniel
“Meredith’s little Bible lesson was interesting.”
Chloe doesn’t break her stride. “So?”
I swat at a fly. “Well, don’t you think it’s a little weird? She barely says anything, ever, then suddenly she’s reciting passages from Revelation like someone in seminary.”
"So?" she says again.
"So...she's a waitress. You think Sarah Tallent goes around quoting scripture?"
"You're right...there's no way a waitress could be smart. She's totally hiding something," Chloe says, rolling her eyes.
"Come on, that's not what I meant. It's just not typical, okay?"
“Maybe she was raised in church.” Chloe says, glancing at me. “You know, most people go to church more than twice a year. More than we did,” she adds, quietly.
“That’s not true. Most people are like us. They go at Christmas and Easter, and that’s it.”
“Maybe that’s why so many of us were left behind to suffer.”
“So now this is all some kind of rapture?”
“I don’t know what it is, Daniel. I just know I don’t care who Meredith is or was. She was almost raped, then witnessed three people get murdered.” Chloe steps over a fallen tree limb. “Not to mention the world as we knew it ended without warning two months ago. She’s probably still in shock like the rest of us.”
“No, there’s more to it than that. I think she’s hiding something.”
Chloe keeps walking. “Even if she is, who cares? I’m not looking for a best friend ...just another set of eyes at night.”
“What if she’s dangerous? Do you care about that?”
“Not really. I...”
“What are you two whispering about?”
I didn’t realize Meredith had moved so close. The last time I checked she had dropped pretty far behind us, stopping every few minutes to look at something on the side of the road or just inside the treeline. She doesn’t make a habit of walking beside us.
Until she thinks we’re talking about her, that is.
I shift the pack higher on my back. “Nothing. Just discussing where to bed down for the night.”
Her mouth twitches. “Right. Well, since that’s all you were discussing, how about that?” she asks, pointing to the east.
I follow her gaze. It takes a moment, but I finally make out an old farmhouse through the dense trees. I can’t judge how far it is, because it’s sitting on a hill, but if we move fast, we should be able to get there before nightfall. Hopefully it’s unoccupied.
“Well?” she asks impatiently.
Chloe squints into the distance, studying the old structure, “I don’t know. If we get all the way there and someone, or something, is already there, we’ll be stuck in the middle of nowhere after dark.”
“Chloe has a point,” I add, watching for Meredith’s reaction.
It isn’t a happy one.
She crosses her arms. “Or, we could get there and it would be so nice, we could stay for a while.”
Chloe sighs, “We’re not stopping anywhere for awhile, Meredith. Our plan has always been to keep heading toward Asheville. We have to find our parents.”
“You realize the odds of them still being alive are slim to none, right?”
Chloe turns to her, a pained expression on her face. “Why would you say that?”
/>
Meredith shrugs. “Because it’s the truth.”
“Since when did the truth start mattering to you?” I interject, angered by the hurt on my sister’s face.
“Daniel, stop.”
Meredith squares her shoulders. “No, keep going. Why don’t you say what you really mean?”
“I think I was pretty clear.”
We stand there for a minute, each waiting for the other to say something first, but neither of us seems willing to back down. Finally Chloe says, “Okay, let’s press the rewind button. We’re all just tired...and cranky.” She looks at the farmhouse in the distance. “I guess we should get started. We need to get there before nightfall.”
Chapter Eighteen
Chloe
Why is Daniel determined to pick a fight with this woman?
Meredith has been through so much. Well, we all have, I guess...but at least I haven’t nearly been raped after watching three innocent people get executed. And there’s no proof she’s hiding something just because she doesn’t talk a lot; maybe she’s an introvert. And why is it so "crazy" for her to recite scripture? Maybe she has a good memory. For all we know, she used to teach a Sunday School class and feed the homeless once a week before the world ended. There’s no law against a waitress being well-versed in Bible passages. Daniel is just so accustomed to the crazy women he dates that it’s made him skeptical of all women.
But.
What if he’s right? What if my sympathy for Meredith is clouding my judgement? What if she is lying? What if she really is dangerous?
Then again, does it matter if she’s keeping secrets that don’t affect us? Probably not. I decide then and there I don’t care what Meredith is leaving out, or hiding. I’m not afraid of some stranger’s personal baggage. The only things I fear now are the things that can eat me. Or infect me.
Or change me.
I reach around and touch the butt of the Ruger LCP .380 hidden in my waistband. It belonged to my dad. I can still remember the day he gave it to me. I had just zipped the last of my suitcases, ready to get on the road to becoming a freshman in college. Dad thought I needed something in addition to the purple Bible Mom had given me. I thought he was being melodramatic.
“Dad, do I really have to carry this thing? I’m going off to college, not a war zone.”
“Chloe, be serious. You can’t be too careful these days.”
“But…..”
“No buts. You’re a female, and you need to be able to protect yourself.”
Dad didn’t know how right he was...he just had the timing wrong. I haven’t used it yet. I’m saving it as a last resort. I don’t want to waste the bullets; plus, guns are loud, and it pays to be as quiet as possible these days. But if I ever have reason to use it, I will - loud or not - and I won’t hesitate.
No matter who it is.
Meredith glances back at me. It’s like she knows what I’ve been thinking. I smile, but she doesn’t return it. Although, considering Daniel just accused her of being a liar, I can’t say I blame her. I pick up the pace until I’m walking beside her.
“Hey, I’m sorry about Daniel. He doesn’t mean it. He’s just really protective of me. Big brother syndrome, I guess,” I add, shrugging my shoulders.
“It’s nothing.”
“Well, I’m sorry, anyway.” A moment later, I add, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a liar.”
She doesn’t respond.
“Besides,” I continue, “if you are lying, who cares? It’s the Apocalypse. We’re all just living lives on loan, anyway. Sooner or later the bank’s gonna call the note.”
She finally looks at me. A small smile forms on her lips. “That’s an interesting perspective,” she says.
I grin. “As long as you don’t try to bite me, we’re good.”
* * *
Daniel
The girls are laughing at something Chloe just said. I guess that makes me the odd man out now.
I don’t care.
There’s nothing I wouldn't do to keep my sister safe.
Nothing.
* * *
Chloe
“Man, this thing is so heavy,” I say, tugging on the straps of my pack.
“What all do you have in it?” Meredith asks.
"Just necessities. Or, what I thought were necessities. Clothes. My Bible." I lower my voice so Daniel can’t hear me. “I also brought a photo album along.”
“And why are we whispering about it?” she asks in a whisper to match my own.
“Daniel said bring only essentials.” I tug on the straps again.
“I see. Can’t have big brother angry, can we?”
“He’s not that bad.”
She raises an eyebrow.
I laugh. “No, really. He means well. He’s just afraid.”
“Of what? Well, besides the obvious dead-people-walking-among-us situation.”
“I don’t know...dying? Living?” I shake my head. “Ever since the Revs became a real-life, walking-but-not-talking nightmare, he’s been more overprotective than he normally is.”
“Where were you when everything fell apart?” Meredith asks.
“That day?” A shiver runs through me as I think about Hannah’s Cafe, and everything that happened shortly thereafter. “Daniel and I were having lunch in Everly. Just a normal day, right? But then...then I saw this man walking down the road, dressed in his pajamas…”
“Pajamas?”
“Yeah, those old striped kind that you imagine old rich men wearing to bed.”
“Did you recognize him?” she asks, suddenly interested.
I shake my head. “I had never seen him before. But the woman sitting at the table beside us had. I heard her say she had seen him on the news.”
Meredith stops walking. “Did she say why he had been on the news?”
“Um...something about the police looking for him. I don’t remember why, though.”
“It was Harlan Downs," Daniel says, coming to a stop beside us. "Police believed he had attacked his wife.”
“That’s right,” I say. “Anyway, he was the first Rev I saw. He’s the one who started the bloodbath in Everly.”
“So, he went through Everly,” Meredith whispers quietly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Daniel asks.
She looks surprised, as if she had momentarily forgotten we were there. A red flush spreads across her cheeks. “What? Nothing...I just repeated what Chloe said.”
“No, you didn’t. You said something else.”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Daniel. You’re right, I’m wrong. Can we just keep walking?”
She walks off, leaving us standing there, wondering what just happened, and what she said or didn't say. I honestly can’t remember, so I quit worrying about it, but Daniel won’t let it go.
“Did you get the feeling she knew him?” Daniel asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe we misunderstood what she said.”
“Both of us?”
“Does it really matter what we heard. It’s not like he’s anything important to us now. He’s just another Rev in a sea of Revs,” I say.
If Daniel is determined to hate this woman, he’s going to have to do it on his own. I don’t have the energy required for misplaced suspicion.
Chapter Nineteen
Chloe
On Wednesday, we meet Paul and Kelli, a father and daughter who somehow survived an ambush of the dead and devastating mobile home fire, all in the same day. Paul volunteered this information, along with his age, “53, and strong as an ox”. Kelli is fifteen, and pretty, with long blonde hair, and soft hazel eyes. She’s tall and thin, and a little rough around the edges, like her dad. It doesn’t take long to realize they are weak from hunger; by the looks of them, they were probably malnourished even before the world ended.
Daniel offers them some of our food and water. Paul tries to decline it with a, “Nah, man, we good,” but the growling in Kelli’s stomach and th
e trembling of her hands betrays his words. Daniel offers it again, and without further protest, they devour the meager rations.
Kelli wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “A stale gas station sandwich never tasted so good,” she says, shyly.
Daniel smiles. “Glad you liked it.”
“Sorry we didn’t have anything better to give you,” I add.
She smiles. “Oh no, it was great. Really.”
Paul nods. “Thanks, man. We ain’t eaten in over a day.”
“Where are you from?” Meredith asks.
“West Creek. Lived down on Ratty Ankle,” Paul answers. “Till the trailer caught fire. Then we just started walkin’. Ended up here.”
“Ratty Ankle?” Meredith asks.
I laugh. Meredith isn't from this county. Since Daniel and I grew up here, we already know about the crazy road names in West Creek, but I guess if you aren’t from around here, they sound a little crazy.
“Yea, man. Lotta history in that name,” Paul says by way of explanation. “I’ll have to tell ya about it sometime.”
She smiles stiffly. “I’m sure it’s a very interesting story.”
“Where did you live before, Meredith?” I ask.
She adjusts her sunglasses. “Spartanburg, remember?”
“That's right. The steakhouse," I say, recalling our earlier conversation. "How did you end up on HWY 74?”
“My boyfriend was a junior at the University in Asheville. I was on my way to visit him when everything happened.”
“74 is kind of out of the way, isn’t it?” Daniel asks. “Most people would take 85, then hit 26 all the way to Asheville.”
She levels a steely gaze on him. “Maybe I had other business to attend to on my way to see him.”
I hit Daniel’s arm. “Ignore him, Meredith.”
Daniel shrugs and walks ahead of us.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Again.”
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