Emma couldn’t help but give her a sad smile that was tinged with bittersweet pride. “I killed an entire town of zombies.”
Yolanda’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, so you might be good on a rescue squad.”
“Rescue squad?”
“We go out and help people get here. There’s less now, sadly, but we sometimes get calls for help.” Yolanda bent over the ledger, making notations.
The scratch of the pen against paper reminded Emma of her days taking online courses after she had decided to improve her lot in life. She’d spent hours on coursework, writing everything by hand before transferring it to her laptop. After being derailed by pregnancy, her life had been dictated by Billy’s needs. Finally, she’d decided to take charge of her life. She’d only finished part of a semester when the dead began to walk and she’d lost her son. Her daydreams had devolved into nightmares.
Sitting in the office watching Yolanda work, it felt like the last year and a half wasn’t real. All that death and gore, the endless sorrow, the burning rage, was fading to a dark memory in the light of hope. She could take charge of her life again and maybe find a sliver of happiness. It made her dizzy just thinking about the possibility of finding a new role to fulfill other than grieving mother and vengeful zombie killer.
“I’m not sure when I’ll be able to assign you to a patrol. I have to dig through all these boxes and get the schedules sorted out. I can assign you a hotel room now. I’ll get someone to take you to where we keep our inventory so you can select toiletries and find more clothes. There are three meals a day and we all eat in the hotel dining room.”
Yolanda continued to talk, explaining the ins and outs of the fort, and Emma gripped the metal armrests of her chair to keep the room from spinning. Again, she was dazed by the abrupt change in her life. To go from being alone, scavenging for food, and relentlessly killing zombies while searching for her dead son to a place filled with life and people was too much to process.
“Yolanda!” Juan called out from the doorway.
The woman stopped speaking and looked up.
“I think you need a better introduction speech,” he said with a wink. “I think you’re overwhelming her.”
Emma tried to force a smile, but was certain it looked fake. She was feeling slightly lightheaded. Perhaps it was the heat, though most likely it was her mind attempting to drink in every new bit of information flowing her way.
“Dammit. I am. Peggy had this down to a science.” Yolanda shook her head, looking annoyed. “Damn her for leaving us.”
Leaning against the door frame, cowboy hat in hand, Juan gave Yolanda an encouraging smile. “You’re doing a good job though, you know. You got this.”
“I hope so.” Rummaging around in a box, Yolanda wagged her head disapprovingly. “If only she had said something.”
“We were all freakin’ out. None of us noticed Peggy was panicking more than the rest of us. It’s not your fault.”
“I keep telling myself that, but I don’t believe it. When I think of how scared she was and little Cody…” Yolanda closed her mouth, tears welling. “How could she? He was a baby!”
“No one knew she’d do that,” Juan said gently. “If we’d suspected, we would’ve done somethin’. You know that.”
“It’s like losing Tobias all over again.” Yolanda’s gaze flicked to the portrait of the gentleman on the wall. “I didn’t see that coming either.”
Emma rubbed her hands against her thighs, her fingers lightly grazing over the holes in the knees. It wasn’t too hard to piece together what had happened. Apparently Peggy had been the former city secretary and had taken her life and that of her child prior to the horde arriving, leaving a vacuum that Yolanda was trying to fill. People didn’t always die in this world by natural causes or a zombie bite. Sometimes they chose to check out. She’d found two of her neighbors hanging in their living room. Another had taken an exit via shotgun.
“Life ain’t kind,” Juan muttered. “And can be fragile.”
The sound of keys jangling filled the office. The conversation paused while Yolanda searched for the correct key. The weight of personal loss created a heavy atmosphere in the office.
“Boss,” a voice said from the doorway.
Juan pivoted around. “What’s up, Enrique?”
A small-statured man with deeply tanned skin and dark eyes leaned against the doorjamb. Drenched in sweat, filthy with dirt and what looked like cement dust, he wiped his face with a kerchief. “We’re working on that new wall, but we got zombies coming in from those warehouses along the train tracks. I pulled the crew back in.”
Juan pulled his walkie-talkie off his belt. “I’ll let Nerit know.”
“Let her know they’re runners.”
“Is that what you call them? The fresh ones?” Emma asked.
“Yeah. The new ones are scary fast.”
Enrique nodde