Chapter 21
I tiptoe downstairs just as the sun rises to use the bathroom and quickly realize the water is no longer working.
Again, I think back to the woman we saw on the news back in the dayroom.
“The power grid will fail. Our water reclamation system will cease.” She was right again. At least we have the river.
I watch the sun finish its ascent from the dining room as I wait for the others to wake up. Soon, they all stumble downstairs half-awake but dressed and ready for the day.
“Water’s gone,” I say as a greeting.
“Was just a matter of time,” Ramsey says, shaking his head and yawning. “Now the fireworks will really start. People’ll start flocking out of the cities toward the rivers and lakes. Just wait. It’s about to get messy.”
“Lucky for us, we have a head start. Let’s get going. I want to be ready for anything and we need supplies,” I say to Keisha and Lucia. I toss them a few packs of crackers for breakfast and then turn toward the door.
“Not so fast,” Ramsey says. “We really should be waiting ’til dark. Don’t wanna chance the locals seeing a bunch of strangers wandering around, do ya?” Ramsey says. It’s exactly the opposite of what he said yesterday. He’s stalling.
“You’re no stranger, Ramsey.” I snatch the map he made yesterday from the table and roll it up. “Can’t you just toss that charming smile of yours around and introduce us to your friends?” I say, challenging him.
“We should wait,” he says, his tone a little darker now.
“I’m not waiting,” I say firmly.
“Quinn, maybe we should—” Keisha starts, but I cut her off before she can finish.
“We can’t get caught here without an exit strategy. A lot can happen in a day, or have you forgotten our first day here?”
That drives the point home.
“I get it,” Keisha concedes. “Ramsey, can’t you help us find just a few things today? We’d feel much safer,” she says, looking up at him with a hopeful smile.
He sighs. Keisha has that effect. “All right,” Ramsey says, shrugging.
“But we’re going on foot. An engine’ll draw those things faster than we can handle.
And they sure are fast when they’re fresh.
Wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt, would we?
” He looks directly at me as he delivers his final line, but I turn away as if I don’t notice that his last words were meant to get under my skin. They didn’t.
When we leave the restaurant, the sun is climbing, and humidity thickens the air.
For a moment I expect to hear January complain about the heat, and then I remember.
A memory flashes of my hunting knife sinking into her soft flesh as the water around me warmed and turned that strange shade of muddy pink. My heart beats double-time in my chest.
I look over at Ramsey and imagine what it would be like to do the same to him.
I don’t trust him. I don’t like the way he looks at Keisha.
I know Keisha said she’s only flirting with him to get what we need from him, and I believe her, but something about this feels off.
I want Ramsey out of my way. I take a few deep breaths and try to shake away the feeling.
We follow a blacktop road that leads us into something resembling a town.
The houses are flung across the landscape, each one haphazardly occupying a plot of land surrounded by a thick forest of trees.
It looks like a town that sprang up accidentally.
There are no blocks or corner stores. There isn’t a town square, a park, or even a gas station that I can see.
Just homes plopped down wherever their owners saw fit.
Most of them are old and falling apart. We walk in silence, each of us straining to listen for extra footsteps.
Finally, Ramsey points to a house that backs up against the woods surrounding the little town.
“This house here’ll be empty. Let’s see what we can find,” he says, pointing his knife toward the entrance.
I walk carefully through the overgrown lawn and check the front door.
Locked. I motion for us to go around to the back door.
I try the handle, but it’s locked as well.
To my right I hear a soft “Psst!” I glance over.
Lucia’s found a window cracked open an inch or two.
She looks back at us with a huge grin. I smile approvingly.
I walk to the window and peek inside. It looks like a child’s bedroom. A red race car bed sits in the corner next to a pile of tiny toy cars. The bedroom door is open, and I squint, trying to see into the hallway leading to the rest of the house. I give a low whistle. Nothing moves.
“Hello?” I say quietly. Still nothing. I push the window open wider.
Ramsey, Keisha, and Lucia crowd over my shoulder straining to see inside.
“Hello!” This time I shout. After another beat of silence, I think I hear something move, but I can’t be sure if it’s just my nerves. Then the small bump turns into something that sounds an awful lot like footsteps.
My heart picks up as the rhythmic footsteps move faster and heavier down the hall toward the open bedroom door.
I watch in horror as a tiny boy in blue pajamas charges toward the window.
Black ooze bubbles in the corners of his mouth and runs down his tiny chin.
Keisha gasps beside me, gripping my arm as a high-pitched moan leaps out of his throat.
For a moment I’m frozen. Then the carrier leaps for the window.
On instinct, I sharply pull down on Keisha’s shirt with one hand as she throws her body on top of Lucia. The three of us duck below the window and up against the house’s brick exterior.
Behind us, the remains of the tiny boy fly through the window and land heavily on top of Ramsey, throwing him to the ground with a thud.
I can hear the air being knocked out of his lungs with a deep whoosh.
Without air, all Ramsey can do is try to keep the boy at arm’s length.
He struggles as the boy squirms to get out of his grip.
Tiny teeth snap as the boy lunges for Ramsey’s throat, and I wait anxiously to hear him scream. A smile creeps toward my lips.
“Quinn, kill it!” Keisha shouts, shaking me by the shoulders.
I sigh.
“Quinn, we still need him!” Keisha’s eyes plead with me, and like all the times before, I choose to trust her.
Ramsey lies on his back, struggling to keep the boy’s gnashing teeth from finding flesh.
He flails his impossibly strong limbs wildly as Ramsey struggles to find his grip.
Finally, Ramsey finds his center of gravity and presses the boy up and to the side.
I see my opportunity and swing my machete down sharply.
A tiny head falls onto Ramsey’s chest and its flailing body goes still.
Black sludge spills from the wound, quickly soaking through Ramsey’s clothes.
He pushes the body off him and skitters backward, wiping uselessly at the mess that covers him.
Unsatisfied, he rips off his shirt, scrubbing frantically at the skin of his chest with the cleanest parts of the fabric.
When he’s wiped the worst of the muck from himself, Ramsey angrily spits onto the ground at my feet. “What the hell was that?” he growls.
“What was that?! You took us to a house with a zombie child!” I growl back.
“How the hell was I supposed to know they left their dead kid behind? You let that thing attack me!”
“I saw it coming and ducked. You can’t blame me for having better reflexes,” I say with a shrug.
Ramsey pulls his knife and walks toward me. “You tried to set me up, just like that little girl in the river!”
I resist the urge to step back and set my feet firmly. With both hands I pull my machete up in front of my body, still dripping with black ooze. His steps stutter.
“Ramsey, hey. There’s no need for that. She killed it.
We’re safe. It was just an accident. That’s all,” Keisha says, walking toward him slowly with her hands up.
She touches his arm softly, pulling his focus toward her with her big brown eyes.
“This is nothing more than a big misunderstanding. You’re not hurt, are you? ” she asks softly.
He winces at her touch but softens when he looks down at her. Keisha’s eyes hypnotize him, and once again my stomach drops uncomfortably. I clear my throat, interrupting their moment.
“House is clear,” I say. “Let’s go inside.”