still surrounded by vehicles. I wondered how many of those things walking aimlessly in the yard had never made it to their cars.
“Don’t slam the door,” I instructed Halle as I lifted her to the front passenger seat.
Her eyes were red and puffy, her golden hair matted to her head. I pondered if I looked as lost and terrified as she did.
Tavia climbed into the bench seat in the back with one arm, holding Tobin in the other. She settled him beside her, distracting him with his train long enough to stretch the lap belt across his waist. She patted his knee with that motherly it’s-going-to-be-okay smile, and it made me miss Mom even more.
I climbed in after Tavia, sitting behind Halle in the captain’s chair.
“Mama,” Tobin said.
“Yes, baby?”
“I want cereal.”
She nodded. “We’re going home. I’ll get you some while we’re there.” She smiled at him, but when she looked away, worry scrolled across her face. After today, she wasn’t going to be able to provide him with food every time he asked for it.
“Can I take some of my toys?” he asked.
“Yes, but just a few. We’ll have a lot more things you’ll have to help Mama carry.”
“Yes, Mama.”
She kissed his forehead. “Good boy.” She blinked her eyes and then looked up, trying to keep the tears from spilling over.
“Don’t worry,” I said. She looked to me. “You know what to do to keep him safe. Remember what you did at the armory. That was pretty brave.”
Tavia’s sweet smile peeked out from the corners of her mouth. “You think so?”
“What street do you live on?” Dad asked.
“Padon,” Tavia said. “Behind the grocery store and across the street from the church.”
“Got it,” Dad said, continuing south. “That’s right next door to Scarlet’s grandparents’ house.”
“Richard and Helen are Scarlet’s grandparents?” Tavia asked, surprised.
“Helen’s my mema,” Halle said, her cheery voice a strange contrast to the disturbing scene outside the SUV.
Tavia shook her head. “Small, small world.”
“Even smaller now,” I said, staring out the window.
It was a beautiful Saturday, but no kids were playing outside. Instead, there were monsters that weren’t supposed to exist, bodies lying in the street, and the occasional crack of gunfire.
“Andrew?” Tavia said. “What if my brother is there? He’s a big guy.”
“Halle can sit behind me. He’ll fit just fine in the passenger seat. There’s plenty of room.”
“Even with Richard and Helen?” she asked.
“We’ll make it work,” Dad said.
Tavia settled back into the seat and hummed a small laugh, resting her elbow on the door and her forehead in her hand. I’d never seen someone so full of relief.
Dad turned south onto Main Street, but he soon had to retreat to a side road because of the huge group of infected roaming in the street. A high-pitched ringing sound came from one of the businesses, but I couldn’t figure out which one.
“It’s weird how they’re all on Main Street,” I said.
“It’s the security alarm at Gose Jewelers. They’re attracted to sound.” Dad slowed at the intersection, and even though the light was red, he didn’t stop.
“No one else is on the road, Dad. Why are you slowing down?” I asked.
“Because you never know.” His dad voice was making its debut for the day. “The first time I blow through an intersection, what will happen?”
Halle and I spoke in unison, both bored of the lesson already, “We’ll get in a wreck.”
“I see it all the time,” Dad said as I mouthed his words at the exact same time.
Tavia snorted.
“What’s so funny?” Dad asked.
“Nothing,” Tavia answered, trying to keep from smiling.
Dad pulled to the side of the road and parked, leaving the SUV running. “Tavia,” he warned, “try to keep your voice down.”
“What?” Tavia said, looking up.
When she saw what Dad saw, she immediately covered Tobin’s eyes. A man the size of an NFL player
“Don’t slam the door,” I instructed Halle as I lifted her to the front passenger seat.
Her eyes were red and puffy, her golden hair matted to her head. I pondered if I looked as lost and terrified as she did.
Tavia climbed into the bench seat in the back with one arm, holding Tobin in the other. She settled him beside her, distracting him with his train long enough to stretch the lap belt across his waist. She patted his knee with that motherly it’s-going-to-be-okay smile, and it made me miss Mom even more.
I climbed in after Tavia, sitting behind Halle in the captain’s chair.
“Mama,” Tobin said.
“Yes, baby?”
“I want cereal.”
She nodded. “We’re going home. I’ll get you some while we’re there.” She smiled at him, but when she looked away, worry scrolled across her face. After today, she wasn’t going to be able to provide him with food every time he asked for it.
“Can I take some of my toys?” he asked.
“Yes, but just a few. We’ll have a lot more things you’ll have to help Mama carry.”
“Yes, Mama.”
She kissed his forehead. “Good boy.” She blinked her eyes and then looked up, trying to keep the tears from spilling over.
“Don’t worry,” I said. She looked to me. “You know what to do to keep him safe. Remember what you did at the armory. That was pretty brave.”
Tavia’s sweet smile peeked out from the corners of her mouth. “You think so?”
“What street do you live on?” Dad asked.
“Padon,” Tavia said. “Behind the grocery store and across the street from the church.”
“Got it,” Dad said, continuing south. “That’s right next door to Scarlet’s grandparents’ house.”
“Richard and Helen are Scarlet’s grandparents?” Tavia asked, surprised.
“Helen’s my mema,” Halle said, her cheery voice a strange contrast to the disturbing scene outside the SUV.
Tavia shook her head. “Small, small world.”
“Even smaller now,” I said, staring out the window.
It was a beautiful Saturday, but no kids were playing outside. Instead, there were monsters that weren’t supposed to exist, bodies lying in the street, and the occasional crack of gunfire.
“Andrew?” Tavia said. “What if my brother is there? He’s a big guy.”
“Halle can sit behind me. He’ll fit just fine in the passenger seat. There’s plenty of room.”
“Even with Richard and Helen?” she asked.
“We’ll make it work,” Dad said.
Tavia settled back into the seat and hummed a small laugh, resting her elbow on the door and her forehead in her hand. I’d never seen someone so full of relief.
Dad turned south onto Main Street, but he soon had to retreat to a side road because of the huge group of infected roaming in the street. A high-pitched ringing sound came from one of the businesses, but I couldn’t figure out which one.
“It’s weird how they’re all on Main Street,” I said.
“It’s the security alarm at Gose Jewelers. They’re attracted to sound.” Dad slowed at the intersection, and even though the light was red, he didn’t stop.
“No one else is on the road, Dad. Why are you slowing down?” I asked.
“Because you never know.” His dad voice was making its debut for the day. “The first time I blow through an intersection, what will happen?”
Halle and I spoke in unison, both bored of the lesson already, “We’ll get in a wreck.”
“I see it all the time,” Dad said as I mouthed his words at the exact same time.
Tavia snorted.
“What’s so funny?” Dad asked.
“Nothing,” Tavia answered, trying to keep from smiling.
Dad pulled to the side of the road and parked, leaving the SUV running. “Tavia,” he warned, “try to keep your voice down.”
“What?” Tavia said, looking up.
When she saw what Dad saw, she immediately covered Tobin’s eyes. A man the size of an NFL player
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