both communities.”
“ So things are safe down here.”
“ Secure. I wouldn’t say safe." Jenny paused. "You guys get out of quarantine tomorrow. That’s Saturday, so the kids can go back to school on Monday.”
“ They’ll love that .” Cori rolled her eyes.
“ Probably more than you think,” Jenny said, standing. “Don’t worry. We’ll find something for you to do, too.”
“ Damn.” Cori grinned.
Days passed. A routine began to develop. Cori and the kids were put up in a large house next to George’s. Another couple lived there with their two children. Rachel and Sherrie bunked in a room of their own, and Joe slept with the two Jaque boys. Cori got her own room on the first floor. Small quarters, but it worked. Every morning, the rooster next door woke her, and she listened for the sound of Chicken George's quad to start the day.
One morning, two weeks after the townfolk let her and the kids out of quarantine, Cori was up before the sun. As a horse trainer, she was used to early mornings. She pulled on her clothes, stuffed her feet into a pair of boots, and stepped outside. The pistol felt good on her hip. She'd trained with a rifle since her arrival with the kids, and she knew how to use the handgun. She didn’t know yet how she’d perform in a Zed attack, but she felt better about her shooting skills than she had in a long time.
She heard the quad before she saw it. In seconds, it bounced around the corner of the house next door. Chicken George parked the machine, shut off the engine, and climbed off.
Cori walked across the yard. “You go out every night?”
“ Purt' near,” George responded, not looking up.
“ Ain’t you sick of fish?”
“ Nearly.”
“ Chatty thing, ain’t you?”
George glanced at her face. Cori held out her hand. “Name’s Cori. Haven’t been around long enough to get a nickname yet.”
He looked her up and down, paused at her chest, then met her eyes. “Black girl wearin' a white T-shirt makes for a good morning.”
She met his dark eyes with a twinkle in her own. “Only got one bra to my name, and it’s in the wash.”
“ Jenny’ll have to take you shopping, then.” He took her hand. “Name’s Tony.”
Cori smiled. “Nice to meet you, Tony.”
They chatted a bit while Tony picked out the fish he wanted for breakfast. He didn’t say much. He didn’t ask much. Cori always had been a talker. She told him about the long trip on horseback with the kids. She talked about the devastated landscape. She told about the empty towns and the towns full of Zeds.
“ You wanna go with me?” Tony asked after a while. “I’m on my way out to the Mennonite place. Plow Ridge, they call it. You can talk the whole way, if you want to.”
Cori grinned. “Sorry. I know I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”
Tony swung aboard the quad. “I’ll try not to make you nervous.”
He started the bike. Cori climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“ Hold tight. Don’t wanna dump you.”
And they were off.
Cori got the nickel tour of town, as they had to pass all the way through Snareville to get where they were going. Fencing lined Main Street on both sides with one gate to a side street. Tony explained the firing positions on the roofs and second-story windows in the three-block stretch that made up the business district. As they passed through the last checkpoint, they entered a free zone. Cori felt her guts tighten up.
“ You sure it’s safe out here?” she shouted as the wind threatened to rip away her words.
“ No,” Tony said, “but it’s only about three miles now.”
They buzzed down the blacktop. At a bridge over a small creek, a huge set of steel-tube gates topped with spikes and woven through with barbed wire stood blocking their side of the pass. The gates were anchored on two telephone poles cut down to ten feet and sunk deep into the ground. Log chain looped around the gates to keep them closed, held
“ So things are safe down here.”
“ Secure. I wouldn’t say safe." Jenny paused. "You guys get out of quarantine tomorrow. That’s Saturday, so the kids can go back to school on Monday.”
“ They’ll love that .” Cori rolled her eyes.
“ Probably more than you think,” Jenny said, standing. “Don’t worry. We’ll find something for you to do, too.”
“ Damn.” Cori grinned.
Days passed. A routine began to develop. Cori and the kids were put up in a large house next to George’s. Another couple lived there with their two children. Rachel and Sherrie bunked in a room of their own, and Joe slept with the two Jaque boys. Cori got her own room on the first floor. Small quarters, but it worked. Every morning, the rooster next door woke her, and she listened for the sound of Chicken George's quad to start the day.
One morning, two weeks after the townfolk let her and the kids out of quarantine, Cori was up before the sun. As a horse trainer, she was used to early mornings. She pulled on her clothes, stuffed her feet into a pair of boots, and stepped outside. The pistol felt good on her hip. She'd trained with a rifle since her arrival with the kids, and she knew how to use the handgun. She didn’t know yet how she’d perform in a Zed attack, but she felt better about her shooting skills than she had in a long time.
She heard the quad before she saw it. In seconds, it bounced around the corner of the house next door. Chicken George parked the machine, shut off the engine, and climbed off.
Cori walked across the yard. “You go out every night?”
“ Purt' near,” George responded, not looking up.
“ Ain’t you sick of fish?”
“ Nearly.”
“ Chatty thing, ain’t you?”
George glanced at her face. Cori held out her hand. “Name’s Cori. Haven’t been around long enough to get a nickname yet.”
He looked her up and down, paused at her chest, then met her eyes. “Black girl wearin' a white T-shirt makes for a good morning.”
She met his dark eyes with a twinkle in her own. “Only got one bra to my name, and it’s in the wash.”
“ Jenny’ll have to take you shopping, then.” He took her hand. “Name’s Tony.”
Cori smiled. “Nice to meet you, Tony.”
They chatted a bit while Tony picked out the fish he wanted for breakfast. He didn’t say much. He didn’t ask much. Cori always had been a talker. She told him about the long trip on horseback with the kids. She talked about the devastated landscape. She told about the empty towns and the towns full of Zeds.
“ You wanna go with me?” Tony asked after a while. “I’m on my way out to the Mennonite place. Plow Ridge, they call it. You can talk the whole way, if you want to.”
Cori grinned. “Sorry. I know I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”
Tony swung aboard the quad. “I’ll try not to make you nervous.”
He started the bike. Cori climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“ Hold tight. Don’t wanna dump you.”
And they were off.
Cori got the nickel tour of town, as they had to pass all the way through Snareville to get where they were going. Fencing lined Main Street on both sides with one gate to a side street. Tony explained the firing positions on the roofs and second-story windows in the three-block stretch that made up the business district. As they passed through the last checkpoint, they entered a free zone. Cori felt her guts tighten up.
“ You sure it’s safe out here?” she shouted as the wind threatened to rip away her words.
“ No,” Tony said, “but it’s only about three miles now.”
They buzzed down the blacktop. At a bridge over a small creek, a huge set of steel-tube gates topped with spikes and woven through with barbed wire stood blocking their side of the pass. The gates were anchored on two telephone poles cut down to ten feet and sunk deep into the ground. Log chain looped around the gates to keep them closed, held
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