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  Lori was quiet, huddled in a corner holding her legs to her chest. She stayed like that most of the day. When she slowly nibbled on the food given to her, Kern knew it was sheer instinct that made her do it. Chris, an engineer, was beside himself. He would go from trying to lighten the mood with a joke to openly crying. Kern hoped that he would be the last one out the door. At least Lori would run for the vehicles. Chris was more likely to freeze up. If everyones' backs were to him when it happened, maybe he would go down before anyone noticed. For all his knowledge that helped build the new Kings Mill, he was more of a liability now than anyone else.

  Later that night, Kacie sat down with Kern at the little makeshift table they had made from the small wooden crate that used to hold their meager food supplies. She hadn't said much since Quinton had initiated the discussion about how they planned to get out. Kern knew she was scared. Like most everyone else in the Mill, she thought the threat of the dead was more akin to a poisonous snake hiding on the side of a trail than what it was. When it was decided that they would leave at first light to give them enough light to see but hoping the early morning fog would shield them from the mass, she stifled a squeal.

  "You're go." She said after she dealed. Rummy was her favorite game.

  "I'll have your back," Kern said awkwardly, concentrating more than he should on his hand. He waited until she spoke to draw.

  "I'll be fine." Kern noticed her cards beginning to shake in her hands. He wished he hadn't said anything. "Oh, to hell with it. Kern, I'm scared to death."

  "That's okay. Fear is good. You just have to make it work for you. People that aren't afraid are stupid. When all this first started, there were a lot of people who thought they could just take these things on. I saw it on the news. There was even a group of guys in my neighborhood, a 'neighborhood watch', that patrolled day and night when they weren't working. The only problem was that they thought it was a big game. Five or six of them came across a group of them out in the park one night. They were supposed to call the police, but they were drunk and figured they could handle it. Apparently they were messing around with some of the slow ones and never noticed the runners. Three of them died or turned there in the park, one turned in the hospital."

  Kacie looked up at him, her eyes clouded in tears. Kern wondered if he had went too far, wondering if she had picked up on his juvenile attempt to not only some bravado, but also that he liked her. A smile began to crease her face and his heart sank as he feared the worst.

  "That's the first thing you've told me about anything before all this happened." She smiled and there was a glimmer in her eye, just behind the misty tears. Kern froze. It was the first time he had even thought about the past in two years, ever since he and Dad had made their pact. A slow cerebral pain began to slowly creep it's way into his consciousness. Sights, sounds, smells all came rushing back to him. His world began to spin out of control, his vision beginning to blur not from pain, but confusion. Suddenly Kacie took his hand, and things began to come back into focus.

  "I'm sorry I said anything," she said. "I can tell it's hard for you to talk about... before. You don't have to say anything else." Kern was stunned. Thoughts were swirling, mixing with what he wanted to say to her, but even that was getting jumbled up. He wanted to shut down and not say anything, and he wanted to tell her everything he could remember before it was swallowed back up into his psyche. Most of all, he just wanted to say something.

  "I used to play football," came out so quick it took him a moment to realize what he had said. Memories, like snippets from a movie in fast forward, flashed through his mind. Goal posts. Jerseys. Nachos. Kacie smiled as she stroked his hand, keeping him grounded.

  "That's cool. What position did you play?"

  "I don't remember. It seems like it was so long ago." Now it was Kern's turn to cry, and a tear began to roll down his cheek. He furiously wiped it away, dropping his hand on the table face up, but the game of cards was now the last thing on his mind. "That's the first time I've even thought about it in years. I don't want to think about it anymore, but I want to tell someone. I want to tell you."

  "If it hurts, you don't have to say anything else. Looks like I would have won this hand anyway." She smiled and laid her hand down, showing a pair and a three-of-a-kind.

  "Look, I have my reasons for not talking about it. I feel like it's okay with you, though. I just don't know if I should or not. I'm not hiding anything, it's just... I don't know."

  "Shock." Kacie said it, her face turning almost clinical.

  "What?"

  "Shock. Listen, I know I don't know a lot about it, but I did learn about this in my psychology class. You and your Dad spent pretty much this whole time out in the wild, right? Even when you were at Fireside, you were still right in the middle of it. It might be possible that you never really had the chance to get over your shock." Kern watched her intently, pleased that she was now stroking the top of his hand more vigorously with her thumb.

  "Maybe." Kacie just smiled and stroked his hand a little longer, then giggled and pulled her hand back to deal a new game.

  xxxxxxxxxx

  Dad checked the rifle again, cocking it an ejecting a shell. Never did he become accustomed to danger. Oh, he got accustomed to it being the new normal, but it never set right with him. Lori was sitting next to him, still fast asleep. She had fallen asleep clutching his arm, terrified of what was shortly to come. Finally, her grasp had relaxed and Dad shrugged out of it. It was hot, and she didn't make it any better. While he was damp with sweat all over, the side she laid on was drenched. Still, it was better than having to listen to her whimper or ask him to console her.

  Thankfully, Kern had stayed up in the front room most of the time and hadn't been a party to how he clumsily danced around Lori and her oblivious infatuation with him. Over the last week, Dad had concluded that Lori had some kind of mental illness. Maybe it was caused by the trauma she had endured over the last couple of years, but Dad doubted it. When he had went to school, he had known girls who acted the same way. Mental breakdowns when things didn't go right. Easily manipulated. Clinging to whatever they thought would bring them some sort of redemption or happiness.

  Yes, Dad was convinced that she was suffering from manic depression, and probably bi-polar disorder as well. When they were at the Mill, he hadn't seen much of her over the first few days, and after the trial he now knew that she was on a manic high. She had come out of the valley created by the arrival of him and Kern, and had ascended the peak while she had been caring for them. Now she was on the downhill slide again and in a seemingly hopeless situation.

  He wondered if Quinton had been giving her some kind of mood stabilizer. Not only did they grow certain herbs, but there was also tons of medicine in the coolers down in the cellar of one of the buildings, under tight lock and key. Even though he knew a lot of what she had done had been by the sheer shock of seeing Kern, he didn't think she could have deteriorated this badly, even under the current circumstances. Still, he hadn't noticed any withdrawal symptoms. Maybe it was possible that she was just crazy. If she was, he couldn't really blame her. Just a fraction of what she had went through was enough to break anyone.

  Even though she had shot his son, he still pitied her and tried his best to make her feel better. Once they had gotten to safety, he would have to tell her that they most certainly were not an item, like she had suggested about a week before. Surely she would have gotten the hint after he fell silent, but often times people chose to ignore hints and just keep pressing the issue, hoping that it would eventually blossom to fruition. Under any other circumstances, he probably would have welcomed her advances and he had to admit that he felt the old urges when she tugged on his sleeve, or pressed her body against his to fall asleep for the night. Some people would have said he was leading her on, but no one could afford a mental breakdown, complete with hyperventilating and crying, at a time like this.

  He had already told her that his main concern was getting
Kern to the SUV. The truck was too dangerous. His leg was weak as it was, and just the sheer drain of getting to the vehicles might make him too tired to fight off anything if it broke the window of the truck. The safest place for him was in the middle of the SUV, and everyone agreed. Fear for Lori still sat at the back of his mind. Quinton surely would try his best to take care of her, but he doubted the others would. Dad and Kern would be taken out of the mix, and the rest would be too worried trying to save themselves.

  With a sigh, Dad shrugged away from her and got to his feet. She repositioned herself, but stayed snoring. First light wouldn't be too far off, maybe two hours by the watch Pete had given him. Hopefully some rest would help her, but he doubted it.

  The building reeked of human waste. Luckily, the dead apparently didn't associate the smell with humanity. Over the last two days, while everyone got to eat their fill and hydrate, the buckets they were now using got their fill as well. It couldn't be healthy, he thought, to be breathing that in. Quinton had them sparingly inoculate the waste with bleach, but all it did was make it smell like bleached crap.

  Everyone was snoring peacefully, even Quinton. It was an uneasy quiet. Most everyone had stayed up the day and night before. Luckily, they didn't have much trouble getting to sleep. Dad hoped that each one of them would be able to sleep again the next night.

  Dad sat down on a rickety, old folding chair and opened a pack of stale crackers and a can of old sardines. As he turned his nose up, he hoped it wouldn't be the last time he had a chance to be revolted by them

  xxxxxxxxxx

  Pete opened the back door wide and stood to the side as everyone started piling out. First Quinton and Chris, then Pete and Kacie. Kern's stomach was in knots as Dad stepped out, and then the gunshots started. Kern dove through the door, careful to bare most of his weight on his good leg. Striding around the stinking, cramped building was one thing. Instead of running, all he could manage was a quick, limping gait.

  The vehicles were less than fifty yards away, Pete's old truck and the SUV, but it looked like a mile. Luckily, the dead weren't packed too closely, but Dad had told them it was best to kill any that were close. A single person might be able to make it to the vehicles without firing a shot, but a group? No, there were too many for that.

  Kern hobbled as best as he could, Dad raising his rifle and firing. The dead began to shamble quickly toward them. Kern could hear Chris crying openly behind him. That was good, he thought. If he froze or fell it would take the attention of the dead who fell in behind off of him. Two of them came running through the field to their right. Dad yelled and fired at one of them. It fell to it's knees when the shot to the shoulder took it off balance. A shotgun blast from behind Kern echoed, destroying the leg of the one Dad shot in a blast of sinew and grime, leaving it to crawl frantically.

  Kacie screamed as the other runner dove into Quinton, knocking him down. Kern saw the side of it's head explode, but couldn't see what came next. Dad shoved him to the side, causing him to put all his pressure on his good leg. Kern cried out in pain as a decayed corpse dove through the spot he had just been standing. Kern managed a shot as it rolled over to get up, the bullet embedding harmlessly into the dirt. A flash of red rushed next to him, and Kacie shot it in the head as it raised up. She glanced at him before rushing back to Quinton, now back on his feet.

  A hand shoved from behind, and then there was a terrible scream as the hand fell away from him. It was Chris. Right after that was a female scream. It was Amber, a woman he hadn't even met until they had gotten trapped. Kern dove forward, limping as fast as he could. Passing between Dad and Pete, taking aim, he could tell that Dad was shooting in panic now. Quinton threw Kern's arm over his shoulder and almost carried him the next few feet to the SUV. The dead were closing in from the other side of the vehicles. Quinton shoved him in the back while Kacie fired a few shots and hopped into the front seat. Quinton dove in beside Kern, yelling for the others.

  Quinton climbed over the console to the passenger seat just as one of the dead slammed a dirty hand on the window, causing a spider web-like crack. Dad pushed Pete almost into Kern's lap. More hands began to bang on the SUV, the rear window shattering. Kacie's scream drowned out the sound of the engine turning over. A hand burst through Kern's window, gripping his hair. Pete awkwardly brought his gun around as he lay half in Kern's lap, halfway in the floor. Gore spattered Kern's head and shirt as the hand fell away.

  Finally, the engine roared to life and the SUV bolted forward, Kern seeing only a blur of hands and ghastly faces. The SUV fishtailed, jostling everyone around. She slowed just enough to straighten it out on the dry, dusty yard on the side of the building and took the road. She went at an angle and the SUV accelerated off the other side of the road, banging the driver's side into a tree.

  "What are you doing?" Quinton yelled, grasping for the handle above his head.

  "I never learned how to drive!" she screamed, her voice breaking. Kern couldn't see the tears rolling down her cheeks, but he could definitely hear them. Quinton caressed her shoulder.

  "It's okay," he said. "Just straighten it out and don't push the right pedal all the way down."

  Dad helped Pete out of Kern's lap, pressing against his already hurt leg. Pain blotted his vision with red and black as Pete lifted off. Kern knew he should be watching out the windows, especially since the dead were thumping against the SUV ( he couldn't tell if they were hitting it or if Kacie was hitting them ). He bent over and began massaging his leg, hoping the sensation would ease the pain. Out of his periphery, he noticed a steady stream of green. Trees. The thudding stopped.

  The sound of Lori sobbing came to his ears. At first he didn't think anything about it until he realized he hadn't even seen her get into the vehicle. Anger seethed just below the pain. While the others were fighting and dying, she had jumped into the vehicle, closed the door, and crammed herself into the back to hide.

  In the front seat, Kacie was sobbing loudly, and Kern could almost picture the tear streaming down the side of Quinton's face. They had made it, but the cost was probably more than the residents of King's Mill could afford. The only thing on Kern's mind, though, was how they needed to get out of there, and fast

  xxxxxxxxxx

  They had spent the better part of two hours, after Kacie had calmed down, leading the dead away. Quinton, quiet and stoic, had told her where to turn. There were still small groups and stragglers of them on the main road, and more were moving through the woods. At a small hamlet a good ways up the road, they encountered another massive gathering, causing Kacie to skirt the edge of it and double back down a utility road. Kern couldn't help but appreciate the small buildings, built somewhere in between the brick-and-mortar era and the how-cheap-can-you-build-it era of sheet rock, false ceilings, and imitation hardwood.

  The second half of their trek lead them down the old, winding, country roads. There were a few seconds of real tension when Kacie stopped and she and Quinton awkwardly squeezed around each other to trade places. She had done well on the main road, if a little jerky and hitting the gas and brake too quickly, but the last thing they needed at this moment was for her to ditch them or hit a tree. The two of them frantically jockeyed for position in the space between the console and the roof, everyone held in a state of suspense but Kern. Nothing was coming. There could have been, but there wasn't. Quinton and the others were now experiencing what he and Dad had fought two years before.

  No one spoke the entire time, aside from Quinton telling Kacie where to go, except in the first few minutes when everyone was asking if the others were alright. Lori was crammed in the storage area the entire time. Only when Pete glanced back there and talked to her did she respond. When he sat back down, Quinton had given him a glance. Everyone knew what it meant, and Pete smiled, giving him a thumbs up. As far as he could tell, Lori wasn't infected.

  At the fences surrounding Kings Mill, there were a lot of dead bodies, really dead. They all scanned the carnage as they drove pas
t, silently checking to see if any if their friends were among them. The fences were broken down in several places as they entered the busted gate. Up the hill were more bodies, and debris littered all over the ground. Some of the homes had been battered pretty badly, but for the most part they were in good shape. What had made them all groan were the crops. Most of them, at least the ones within eye shot, had been trampled.

  "We can't eat any of those," Quinton muttered, looking at the few spots of vegetation that had been spared, saying something under his breath about infection.

  People had started to come out of their homes now, a very disheveled looking bunch. A few of them looked like they had at least put on new clothes in the last few days. The others conjured up images of refugees straight out of the text books Kern had read from his chrome book for history class. One of the old women who had come and visited Kern when he was laid up and brought him little cakes was among them, tears streaming down her cheeks. Kern wondered where her friend was.

  A small, weasely fellow stepped forward and hailed the truck. Daniel, a quiet yet efficient man Kern had met once or twice. His face and neck, like much of the other men, had not seen a razor in weeks. Dirt and grime were caked on him, and his clothes didn't look much better. Quinton rolled down the window and slowed to a stop.

  "It's good to see you, Quin," Daniel said, then looked back into the SUV.

  "Lori is in the back, probably in shock. The others didn't make it."

  Daniel cursed. "That brings the total up to nine, with some others wounded. Kathy is banged up pretty bad."

  "What about Kiera and Jacob?" Quinton spat out the words suddenly, a question that had been simmering for the last week. Daniel nodded up the hill to his house, where just behind the leaves people were massing up on the porch.