“Wait.” I frown. “He has a lab?”
“Avi may not like what I did with the E-TR virus but he’s still a scientist. He knows science and research is an important part of our survival. His lab is top of the line and fully stocked for decades of research.” She lowers her voice. “It’s hidden beneath city hall.”
“I think they’ll come with us,” I say. “They seem pretty close to desperate measures around here.”
Jane sits on the couch and pulls out her notepad and starts with the scribbling again. I know I need to go back and talk to Green—or Benjamin—or God, I don’t want to do this. I stand in the hallway and listen to him speak with Walker and Jackson and wish he’d never made any sort of overture.
I take a deep breath and head for the kitchen, Green and I make eye contact and my cheeks burn, probably matching the red of his hair. I open my mouth to speak but the sound of glass shattering draws us away from one another. I run to the front room, where Jane scrambles for her weapon and wind whips into the room. Bodies press against the broken window, seconds from getting inside.
“What the hell?” Jackson asks pushing me aside, but a low moan cuts through the night. It’s been months but I’ll never forget that sound.
“Damn, that’s a whole lotta Eaters,” Green says, already reaching for his weapons. Walker dashes past him, rifle in hand, running up to the second floor. He looks at Finn and Mary. “Get upstairs.”
I’m checking my own weapons. Gun, hatchet, knives. I ask, “Where do you want me?”
“We need to keep them out of the house and now that the window has been breached we’ll have to barricade ourselves upstairs.”
The next moments are sheer pandemonium as we gather our packs and weapons, racing up the wooden stairs. I catch sight of the first Eaters spill into the room, s
creeching with hunger. At the top, Jackson and Green, along with Finn’s help, push furniture down the stairs, blocking the narrow path. Wooden dressers, chairs, and a small bedside table topple down with a crash. The largest chest of drawers wipes out a man in overalls as he is charging forward. Jackson aims his gun at the felled man and shoots him between the eyes.
I turn and come face-to-face with Finn, who looks green with sickness. “That was my neighbor,” he mumbles.
“Don’t. Do not go there,” I tell him. “They’re as good as dead and have been for a long time.” He nods but has a distant look in his eye. I spin him around and push him toward the bedrooms. “Go find Mary Ellen.”
I search the rooms for Walker, following the sound of gunfire. I locate her leaning out a bedroom window, rifle held up to her eye.
“How many?”
“Too effing many,” she replies, firing off two more shots. “At least two dozen, but it’s dark and there could be more in the woods.”
I move to the next window and push open the sash. Sure enough, a rushing mass of Eaters races through the yard. “What are they doing? How did they find us?” I ask, aiming my own gun. I fire and hit a woman in the shoulder. Not good enough. “I’ve never seen them run like this.”
“Me either,” Walker says, firing again. A man drops. “It’s like they’re running from something, right?”
“Move over,” Jane says, carrying her own rifle. She closes one eye and settles her aim—shooting the same woman I just missed in the head. “I’ll take it from here.”
The room is filled with the sound of gunfire and I pace, not knowing what to do. Mary Ellen sits in the corner, squeezed between the closet and bed, eyes closed and whispering. I think she’s praying.
I notice a lull in the gunfire and look up. Walker’s rifle is still in her hands and I walk over. “Are you out of ammo?” I ask, offering her my gun.
“No,” she looks out the window, face contorted in confusion. “Do you see that?”
I lean over and see crowd of Eaters moving erratically in the yard. “They’re not attacking. Just sort of…running?”
The horde reaches the porch, their feet pounding on the wooden steps. The hiss and howls rattle the windows—or at least my head. A loud, shattering crash rocks the house.
“They’ve broken down the door,” Jackson yells, on his way back in the room. The other men follow and they barricade the bedroom door. Mary Ellen continues to pray in the corner and Jane stops her firing and comes over to me and Walker.
“It’s pointless, there are too many,” she says.
I glance back out the window and see the Eaters stream out of the woods. Way more than two dozen. Attacking or not, we’re about to get overrun. Walker thoughtfully looks out the window and says, “I guess the question is, what are they running from?”
“Do you smell that?” Jackson asks, sniffing the air. We all do the same.
“Smoke?” Walker asks. We stare at one another wide-eyed and increasingly nervous. I run back to the window.
“Oh shit,” I say staring in the distance. Just beyond the trees toward town is a fireball. A moving fireball that lops over the top branches and lands in the yard, flaming like the sun. The Eaters in the yard burst into flames, turning them into manic, running torches. Their screams rock me to the core, and the others in the room crowd around and we watch, speechless, as another ball launches toward us.