WILLA, стр. 10
We waited in our huddle for nearly five minutes, listening for more gunshots. None came. There was a great deal of movement going on above us, but those initial shots seemed to be the only ones that were going to come from the ordeal.
Little-by-little, as time went by, people started leaving our hiding place. On more than one occasion, I tried to follow them, but mom would grab hold of me and pull me back.
“Mom, stop,” I finally said.
“You are not leaving this spot until your uncles say it’s safe.”
“You are going to have to ease up. I understand the danger we’re under, but we can’t live in a state of terror. If we don’t help keep this place safe, then we’ll all die.”
“My job is keeping you safe. Everything else is secondary.”
“I love you too, Mom,” I said.
All the fight went out of me at the terror in her eyes. At that moment, I felt terrible for being so hard on her for the last few days. She was only human and a mom. I understood that, but I did worry that her fear and overprotectiveness would get us killed.
“Nothing to worry about,” Grandma said, coming down the stairs.
“Was it a zombie?” someone asked.
“We think so. We’ll know more in the morning. Either way, it’s dead. Our scouts don’t see anyone or thing else wandering around the house. Let’s go back to bed,” Grandma said.
More questions flew through the air, but Grandma didn’t have anything different to say. Eventually, everyone except those who were on the next watch shift went back to bed.
I lay there for a long time before giving in to the need to message my father again. He didn’t reply, not that I expected him too.
From the cot beside me, I heard Mom crying. I reached out to her and took her hand. We fell asleep holding each other.
7
The next morning, I woke at dawn along with a few others who either couldn’t sleep or were naturally early risers. Mom didn’t stir. Quietly grabbing my toiletry bag out from under my makeshift bed, I tiptoed to the cellar bathroom. A line had already formed in front of it, while others had chanced one of the upstairs bathrooms.
Despite the number of people in front of me, I didn’t have to wait long. No one showered or shaved or put on makeup. Those were luxuries we didn’t have time for at the moment. Those in line merely used the restroom and brushed their teeth.
I didn’t have to change clothes either. The night before, I’d put on the lounge pants, t-shirt, and a sports bra that I planned to wear that day. After finishing in the bathroom, I snuck back to my cot, replaced the toiletries bag, and picked up my tennis shoes.
Mom still didn’t move.
In socked feet, I climbed the stairs to the kitchen where my grandma and a few others were busy cooking breakfast.
“You shouldn’t be up here,” Grandma said, but her tone wasn’t chastising.
“I know, but I can’t spend the rest of my life on that cot. Can I help do anything?” I said, taking a seat on a stool to put on my shoes.
“Yeah. We need eggs. Get Kris or Chad to take you to the chickens and gather as many as you can.”
“You mean, you want me to go outside?”
“Yes. No one has seen one of those creatures in a few hours, so you should be fine. We need to eat as much of the perishables as possible while we can. You should be safe if you move quickly,” Grandma said, handing me a basket in which to put the eggs.
“Okay,” I said, taking in a deep breath.
“If you don’t think you can do it...”
“I can. I just have to steady my heart.”
“Oh, and take this,” she handed me a long knife. “Your guards should be able to take down anything that comes at you, but use that if something goes wrong. Aim for the brain.”
I nodded and went to the back door, where Chad was waiting on the steps. Kris was standing in front of the circle of cars. Both looked tired and a bit scared.
“Eggs?” Chad asked.
“Yep.”
“Let’s go.”
Chad followed me to the pen. Kris stayed near the small gap between the cars that we had squeezed through to get to the yard. I focused on where I was going and not on the surrounding farmland. My heart pounded so hard that I felt as if it were going to beat out of my chest.
I quickly gathered a dozen or so eggs while Chad fed the chickens and kept watch.
On our way back, I saw someone—from where we stood. I couldn’t tell who it was—dragging a body toward the cow pasture.
“I didn’t hear a gunshot,” I whispered to Chad as we crossed into the circle of security.
“After how last night’s shot scared people, Dad, Uncle Carson, and a few others decided that we should hold off on shooting them unless we have to. Right now, we’re just getting a trickle. One or two every few hours. If we’re patient enough, they’ll come right to the cars where one of us, using a myriad of weapons, can stab them in the head. It’s quieter, and keeps down the panic.”
“What will you do if they don’t just trickle by?”
“Then we’ll have to use the guns. Hopefully, by then, we’ll have convinced enough people to take up watch, and we can keep a group that size from overrunning us. Those cars aren’t going to help if a horde comes down on us.”
“Is that likely?”
“Anything’s possible. Until I saw my first zombie this morning, I hadn’t believed any of this was real. We hope they stick mainly to the cities. However, if they get hungry enough, and with as many people as we have here, they could come looking for us.”
“They aren’t all we need to worry about,” Kris said, not taking his eyes off the surrounding fields. “People are fleeing the cities