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“The hell …”

Lance stepped down from the porch, stopped beside me, and handed me a small pair of binoculars. “Here.”

I glanced at him, then brought the glasses up to my eyes. After turning the dial in the middle a time or two, the picture came into focus. It took a few seconds to realize what I was looking at, and then a plug popped free from my chest, and all the anger and frustration that had possessed me just a few short moments ago drained away. In its place, a coldness started in my hands and face and spread until it engulfed my limbs and froze my thoughts.

“Holy shit,” I said shakily.

“My sentiments exactly.”

Lauren came over to stand on my other side. “What is it?”

I handed her the binoculars, unable to speak. Much as I had done, her eyes narrowed in confusion for a moment, then all the color drained from her face.

“They’re headed our way,” Lance said.

My voice came out high and weak. “Do you think they heard me?”

Lance shrugged. “I’d say it’s a possibility.” He started walking away. “Come on, kid. We have work to do.”

Numbly, I did as he said.

TWENTY-TWO

“First thing you need to do is go find a couple of ladders,” Lance said.

I looked from him standing in the front yard to Lauren biting her nails a few feet away. “Okay. Then what?”

“There’s some old scrap wood in my shed, should be enough to barricade the first floor. Is there a splitting maul or a sledgehammer around here?”

“I think there’s a maul in the garage.”

“How about a crowbar? The bigger the better.”

“Not sure. I can look.”

“Please do. Be back in a few minutes.”

As he walked away, a thought occurred to me. “Hey, what kind of ladder? You want like a step ladder, or a roofing ladder, or what?”

He stopped. “A step ladder is too small. Something bigger, at least ten feet.”

“What are we using it for?”

“Them,” he said. “Plural. We need two. I’ll show you later.”

I stared after him as he walked over to his house. “Ooo-kay then.”

Lauren stopped biting her fingers long enough to look at me with worried eyes. “What should I do?”

I looked at her, regret scouring the inside of my chest. My father had once told me a foul temper is a coward that always searches for the easiest target. I walked closer to my stepmother and pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly. The hitching in the shoulders started after a few seconds, then came the warm dampness on my chest. “I’m sorry, Lauren.”

“No, honey, you were right,” she said. “I’ve been a useless mess. I’ve treated you like some kind of servant, and I’ve taken all my worries out on your father. You both deserve better.”

“Let’s just forget it, okay? We’re all scared, and we’ve all said things we regret. It happens. The important thing is we’re still here, still together. That’s what matters.”

I felt her nod against me.

“We have to stay focused,” I went on. “We have to stay alive.”

“I’m worried about Joe and the others. They should have been back by now.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it right now.”

“I know. I hate it.”

I held her at arm’s length. “Listen, Lauren. Those things on the other side of the lake are coming for us. I’ve seen what they can do. Doors and windows won’t stop them. We have to barricade them out.”

“Okay.” There was panic at the edges of her eyes, hazel irises darting restlessly. I remembered Dad telling me the best way to keep someone from freaking out in a bad situation is to keep them busy. Left idle, they dwell too much on the danger they’re in and drive themselves crazy. Which can lead to very, very bad things.

“Listen, I need you to do something for me, all right?”

Her eyes focused. “What?”

“Go in the house, find all the nine-mil and five-five-six mags you can, and load them up. I want plenty of spares on hand just in case. Can you do that?”

She nodded.

“What about me?”

The voice made me jump. I turned around to find Sophia standing in the doorway of the cabin. “Um … I guess you can give Lauren a hand, if you want.”

“Caleb,” Lauren said, some of the confidence returning to her voice, “I’ve been married to your father for fourteen years. I haven’t had your training, but I know how to load a magazine. Sophia, why don’t you go with Caleb and keep an eye on him?”

I looked down at her and frowned. “I can take care of myself, Lauren.”

“All the same, it won’t hurt to have someone watching your back.”

Sophia cut in before I could say anything else. “Sounds like a good idea.”

Both of them went back inside, leaving me sputtering in the yard. A few seconds later, Sophia emerged with an M-4 and three spare magazines riding her hip on a web belt. Between her slender figure, vintage Pink Floyd t-shirt, white shorts that barely touched her upper thighs, and combat boots, the rifle and tactical gear looked garishly out of place. She noticed my appraisal and frowned.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I just grew a dick out of my forehead.”

I looked away. “Sorry.”

She marched down from the porch and stopped in front of me. “Where should we start?”

“Dale’s ladder isn’t long enough. There’s a house down the street that has one the right size, but we need two.”

“So let’s get that one first, then look around for another one.”

“Thanks. I never would have figured that out on my own.”

“Fuck you.”

“When did you become so foul-mouthed?”

“Hey, you’re the one who just cussed out his own stepmother.”

A flush crept from my neck to my hairline. “You haven’t had the day I have.”

Sophia stepped closer, her expression growing serious. “Bob and Maureen, are they really …”

“Yeah. They’re gone.”

She studied the ground between her feet. “Was it bad?”

“Bad ain’t the word, Sophia. Come on, we’re wasting time.”

Lance’s old Chevy pickup roared to life next door as we walked down the street. Sophia had to break into a light jog to keep up with my longer stride. “Hey, what about the guy that lives down the street from the Kennedys? Phil what’s-his-name.”

I stopped in my tracks. “Shit. I forgot all about him.”

“Did you see him at all?”

“No.”

“Should we go check on him?”

I thought about the swarm of ghouls skirting the edges of the lake on their way toward the cabin. “No, there’s no time. He’s on his own for now.”

“We can’t just leave him there, not with those things around.”

Her chestnut eyes met mine as I squared off with her. “You want to go after him? Be my guest. But I suggest you take more ammo with you. You’re gonna need it.”

The gaze burned a few degrees hotter, but I didn’t look away. Finally, she let out a sigh. “Fine. I guess you’re right. I just feel bad, is all.”

I didn’t bother with an answer. It seemed obvious to me what our priorities should be, and risking my neck any more than I already had was not at the top of the list. A few weeks ago, I might have thought differently. I might have insisted we take the Jeep and bring Phil to the cabin, even if I had to drag him kicking and screaming. But the more I accepted I was living at the end of the world, the more any sense of moral duty seemed silly. This was not some Hollywood movie—there would be no shot-in-the-arm plot twist, no last minute rescue, no helicopters and sirens and flashing lights at the end, no god in the machine. Bob and Maureen had started this day like any other, never expecting it would end for them the way it did. But death had come calling, and if I wasn’t careful, it could come for me just as easily.