WILLA, стр. 16

Once the fighting was over, and I found Kris attempting to wash a great deal of blood off his clothes in the large basin by the washer and dryer, I tried asking him what happened since I knew Mom would never want to find out and my Grandma would be reluctant to tell me.

“I don’t know, Willa. One second we were dealing with our usual number of stragglers, and then the next moment, those creatures were all over the place—a massive horde of them coming at us from all directions. The zombies leveled the fencing we put up along the outside of the cars in some areas. The force of them even moved vehicles in other places.

“They almost got into the house. I...”

I didn’t press him for more information after that. I don’t think he realized I was there or that I’d asked him a question. Nearly everyone was down in the cellar by that point. Most were tending wounds, checking for bite marks, and cleaning up.

I left Kris to his business and went in search of Grandma. She was in her customary place in a rocking chair by the tables I’d set up for breakfast that morning before things went to shit. Her face was clammy and pale. She sat with her hands folded in her lap and head tilted back. Tears ran down the sides of her face.

I pulled a metal chair up beside her and took her hand.

I didn’t say anything. I merely wanted to offer my grandmother comfort.

“We nearly lost it all today, my sweet Willa,” she eventually said. “We got lucky, and only two people died because of those creatures.”

“I know, Grandma. I’m sorry I couldn’t help,” I replied, not hiding my anger at my mother.

I hadn’t known we lost any of our numbers during the battle, but the news didn’t surprise me.

“Don’t be mad. Your mom’s first instinct is to protect you. That isn’t a bad thing.”

“But we could’ve helped.”

“No. Your mom is worthless to us in that sort of situation, and she would have made you just as useless. We have to do better. We have to build more safeguards. We have...”

“We have to get the hell out of here,” one of Mom’s cousins, Sal, said.

“And go where,” Uncle Jamie asked.

“Anywhere,” Sal said.

“Anywhere isn’t going to be safer than here,” Uncle Carson added.

“Somewhere, there has to be a place that is safe from these creatures,” Sal said.

More than a few people chimed in with agreement.

“Look, we aren’t going to stop anyone from leaving,” Uncle Carson said, putting up a hand to quiet the room. “But please, if you do leave, don’t sneak out, and for God’s sake, have a plan...have an idea of where you are going. Once you have a smart plan, come to us, and we’ll give you some rations and weapons and see you about your way.”

I could only gape at him before glancing over at Grandma. She wasn’t looking at Uncle Carson. She was watching the crowd. I couldn’t believe what he was saying...that he was going to let people leave, knowing they would most likely die out in the world. Neither could I understand why Grandma wasn’t arguing with him about it. She appeared resigned.

That day had seriously rattled my grandmother. I don’t know if she hadn’t fully believed how bad the zombie virus had spread, how unprepared we were, or what.

I couldn’t look at her anymore or listen to my uncles, so I went back to the basin to find Kris still washing the same clothes he had been before. I took the items from him, told others to pile their dirty clothing at my feet, and promised that I would get them as clean as I could. From the looks of things, no one was keen to go to the pump for more water, and I would use all that I had before asking for more.

Sal’s family didn’t leave that day or the next. They did as Uncle Carson asked. They made plans, set a destination, mapped out several routes to take to get there, and settled on the supplies they could realistically carry with them.

He and his family set out on foot nearly a week after our battle with the horde. No one else joined them. More did leave in the weeks that followed, though. Not many, but enough that the lack of people limited the number of guards on each shit. No one talked about the fact that, if another horde attacked, we wouldn’t have enough people to fight.

However, I had to wonder if my uncles had let in any healthy people who happened by looking for sanctuary if we might have made up our losses. The thought of anyone besides family coming to Grandma’s house had never occurred to me, though, why it hadn’t was beyond me. Most people who lived within a ten-mile radius of Grandma’s farm knew she always kept a cellar full of food.

It wasn’t until maybe a month after Sal left that I discovered live, possibly healthy people, were seeking shelter. I’d been in the kitchen helping Grandma clean dishes. Mom had had a duck about it, but no matter how hard she’d argued, Grandma hadn’t backed down. She’d needed my help and was going to get it.

I was in charge of washing, rinsing, and putting the dishes in the drainer. Grandma sat on a stool while drying and stacking the items neatly for someone to put away. While rinsing a bowl, I looked out the kitchen window. The entire time I’d been washing, I’d been staring out the window, watching the guards walk up and down the row of cars, all of which had long stakes attached to them. The pointy ends of which stuck through the fence. Several zombies flailed at the tips of those stakes.

What I saw out the window was two people wearing backpacks walking up the drive. The two had spear-like weapons. Once