rapidly, backing up as he did. Angie knelt, balancing on her cane, and held out her hand. "Don't be scared. It's okay."
"It's not okay," said Zach, almost spitting out the second word. "They'll come. The bad people will come. They have pictures of me. Drawings. Of me and all of them." Zach pointed at the children in the room, continuing to back up.
"What?" said Angie, frowning.
"They had pictures," said Zach, taking steps backward. "They chased me for a long time. They want all of us."
He stopped as he collided with Dalton. Dalton had stepped as far backward as he could, pressed up against the door.
"Whoa, dude," said Dalton, reaching out to stop Zach. "Watch out."
Zach turned to Dalton. He pointed up at Dalton, his eyes wide.
"Him too," said Zach.
Both Angie and Maylee frowned. "What?" Angie repeated.
"They have a picture of him too. The bad people are coming for him too."
Zach turned to look Angie in the eyes.
"The bad people are coming for us."
Three
Park trudged through the snow, tracing a winding path around trees and rocks. His rifle bounced on his left shoulder. A backpack of food hung from his right. He hoped he was right about where he was going. If not, he would be dead in a week. It was too cold to play games or be wrong.
He looked at the sky. It was maybe late morning, but the weather made it hard to tell these days.
He swore under his breath as he started up a steep hill. He'd never been much for travelling on foot, and he wished he'd had more time to pick an easier path.
"Who the fuck am I kidding?" muttered Park to himself. "Nothing but hills around here. Shitting hills that lead to other hills." In the last few years, Park had taken to talking to himself. He wondered if it meant he was crazy. He also wondered if he cared.
He drew near two frozen trees. Frozen branches hung low, blocking his path. Not wanting to bother with going around, he pushed his way through. Ice snapped and fell around him.
As he stepped past the trees, a groan came from his left.
He turned to see a man with a deep split running down the center of his face. Frozen pus coated his cheeks and chin. The man groaned and reached for Park.
"Whoa there buddy," said Park, stepping back. He slid the rifle off his shoulder. "Hold on a second. Got something for you."
Park took another step back, resting the butt of the rifle on the ground and slipping the strap off his arm. Cold arms closed around his shoulders from behind. A woman hissed in his ear.
"And shit," said Park. The woman leaned forward, opening her mouth to bite his cheek. Park dropped to his knees, slipping from her grasp.
The man bent over, still reaching for him. His frozen fingers creaked next to Park's ear.
"I said to hold on, fuckdamit," said Park. The gun still rested on its butt in front of him. Park put his thumb in the trigger and pushed downward.
The gun fired, blasting through the man's chin and out the top of his head. The man jerked, thick black glop raining down onto the snow. Several drops spattered Park as the man toppled over.
"See," said Park. "Told you I had something."
The woman hissed behind him and bent down, grabbing at his shoulder. Park rolled to one side. As he moved, he felt the woman's hand close on the strap of his backpack. When he spun, she spun with him. They both landed on their backs in the snow.
Park whipped his head over to look at her. She had no eyes. Ice and snow were caked in the sockets. She started to sit up, leaning toward him and groaning.
Park still had his right hand on the rifle. He spun it around, arcing over his body and slamming the butt down on her head. Her skull rammed back down into the snow, a dark split in her forehead. Park climbed to his feet, slipping his shoulder out of his backpack. Her frozen hand still clutched the strap.
She hissed up at him, gargling in the dark liquid oozing from her forehead and running down her face.
"Yeah yeah yeah," said Park, turning the
"It's not okay," said Zach, almost spitting out the second word. "They'll come. The bad people will come. They have pictures of me. Drawings. Of me and all of them." Zach pointed at the children in the room, continuing to back up.
"What?" said Angie, frowning.
"They had pictures," said Zach, taking steps backward. "They chased me for a long time. They want all of us."
He stopped as he collided with Dalton. Dalton had stepped as far backward as he could, pressed up against the door.
"Whoa, dude," said Dalton, reaching out to stop Zach. "Watch out."
Zach turned to Dalton. He pointed up at Dalton, his eyes wide.
"Him too," said Zach.
Both Angie and Maylee frowned. "What?" Angie repeated.
"They have a picture of him too. The bad people are coming for him too."
Zach turned to look Angie in the eyes.
"The bad people are coming for us."
Three
Park trudged through the snow, tracing a winding path around trees and rocks. His rifle bounced on his left shoulder. A backpack of food hung from his right. He hoped he was right about where he was going. If not, he would be dead in a week. It was too cold to play games or be wrong.
He looked at the sky. It was maybe late morning, but the weather made it hard to tell these days.
He swore under his breath as he started up a steep hill. He'd never been much for travelling on foot, and he wished he'd had more time to pick an easier path.
"Who the fuck am I kidding?" muttered Park to himself. "Nothing but hills around here. Shitting hills that lead to other hills." In the last few years, Park had taken to talking to himself. He wondered if it meant he was crazy. He also wondered if he cared.
He drew near two frozen trees. Frozen branches hung low, blocking his path. Not wanting to bother with going around, he pushed his way through. Ice snapped and fell around him.
As he stepped past the trees, a groan came from his left.
He turned to see a man with a deep split running down the center of his face. Frozen pus coated his cheeks and chin. The man groaned and reached for Park.
"Whoa there buddy," said Park, stepping back. He slid the rifle off his shoulder. "Hold on a second. Got something for you."
Park took another step back, resting the butt of the rifle on the ground and slipping the strap off his arm. Cold arms closed around his shoulders from behind. A woman hissed in his ear.
"And shit," said Park. The woman leaned forward, opening her mouth to bite his cheek. Park dropped to his knees, slipping from her grasp.
The man bent over, still reaching for him. His frozen fingers creaked next to Park's ear.
"I said to hold on, fuckdamit," said Park. The gun still rested on its butt in front of him. Park put his thumb in the trigger and pushed downward.
The gun fired, blasting through the man's chin and out the top of his head. The man jerked, thick black glop raining down onto the snow. Several drops spattered Park as the man toppled over.
"See," said Park. "Told you I had something."
The woman hissed behind him and bent down, grabbing at his shoulder. Park rolled to one side. As he moved, he felt the woman's hand close on the strap of his backpack. When he spun, she spun with him. They both landed on their backs in the snow.
Park whipped his head over to look at her. She had no eyes. Ice and snow were caked in the sockets. She started to sit up, leaning toward him and groaning.
Park still had his right hand on the rifle. He spun it around, arcing over his body and slamming the butt down on her head. Her skull rammed back down into the snow, a dark split in her forehead. Park climbed to his feet, slipping his shoulder out of his backpack. Her frozen hand still clutched the strap.
She hissed up at him, gargling in the dark liquid oozing from her forehead and running down her face.
"Yeah yeah yeah," said Park, turning the
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