Ignoring his sarcasm, I drop to the ground, wrapping my arms around my waist.
This was our home. It wasn’t amazing, but we were getting there. We forged bonds with people and worked together to make something out of it, and once again, fuckers are trying to ruin it for us. Will it ever be fucking enough?
Rubbing my aching chest, I tilt my head back and stare at the stars. The shouts of the women from the house are gone. The animals are gone. Everyone is gone.
But as I sit here, a wash of calm overtakes me. We’ve faced worse. We’ll face worse before this is over, and I have no plans to go down without a fucking fight. No one will take my world from me without feeling my fucking wrath.
Cole drops beside me and looks into my eyes. Whatever he sees, he must approve of because he nods and pulls me to my feet.
“We need a vehicle,” he says.
“You get the vehicle, I’ll get the girl,” Jase says with a cheeky grin.
“Whatever,” Cole grumbles. “We’ll circle and meet you at the silo.”
Jase nods and takes off in a sprint across the grass. I suck in a breath, watching as he runs in a zig-zag pattern, bullets peppering the ground around his feet. Jase is unaffected though, and I wilt with relief once he’s out of sight.
“C’mon.” Cole grabs my hand and leads me in the opposite direction, toward the front of the house. The women on the roof are gone, and I gaze around the massive moving pile of zombies to see if I recognize any of them. And I do. I recognize all of them, including Jan, wandering around in a zombified state with her long, flannel nightgown brushing against her knees.
Before I can dwell on it, Cole pulls me toward the truck that sits empty in the drive, ready for a hasty getaway.
Why didn’t anyone sound the alarm?
If we run fast enough, we can avoid the zombie mob hanging out in the front yard, especially with their attention on the flash of gunfire from near the barn.
With no time to spare, I follow Cole, grunting when a figure to our left comes running toward us. My heart skips a beat, but it’s Enzo who comes into view holding his hands above his head.
His face is bleeding and his clothes are torn. He skids to a stop at the sight of Cole and his raised weapon. “Whoa.”
Cole hesitates but then lowers his gun with a grimace. Enzo drops his arms and nods at the house. “Any survivors?”
“No,” Cole says, and Enzo’s mouth curls into a frown.
“We’re leaving,” Cole grunts, and Enzo nods, trotting behind us as we continue toward the truck.
We slam our way into the big vehicle just as the first zombie hits the side, causing it to shake on its axis. They’re strong little fuckers when they see food in front of their face.
My throat closes when I meet Howard’s dark eyes, now wide with a hunger he’ll never slake. Biting my knuckles to quell the scream pushing at my lungs, I look away as Cole starts the engine.
The rumble inspires dozens of heads to swing in our direction before the horde turns and I almost piss my pants. Fifty zombies is no small amount.
Cole puts the truck in reverse, slams his foot down, and we peel out. I grab for the seatbelt and slam the buckle closed with trembling fingers as we hit the first few zombies with a thump.
I refuse to look, to see my fallen brothers and sisters. Instead, I move my gaze to Enzo, sitting up front with Cole. “Were you with anyone?”
He shakes his head. “No, I was out on patrol, walking the fence line when I heard the gunshots.”
“Where were the other guards?” I ask as Cole switches into drive and slams his foot on the pedal, causing my head to pull forward and bounce back into the seat.
When we pass behind the house, I feel a pang of guilt at the thought that we might be leaving people behind, but there’s no way to save them now. If they’re in the house, they’re dead, and if they aren’t, they’re zombies.
Besides, everyone knows the bug-out plan. If we have to flee, we meet up back at Flag, at the Homeward Inn at the edge of town, and if that’s a bust, continue east and find a place to hunker down. Anybody here will know to head out if it’s no longer safe.
“I don’t know,” he responds with a furrowed brow. “I assume they came running up here when the trouble started.”
I lose track of what he’s saying when Cole drives past the other side of the house and shouts, “Get down!”
A bullet flies through my window and shatters the glass, spraying my lap as I duck down. A low buzz fills my ears and Enzo’s voice is muffled when he shouts, “Holy shit, is someone shooting at us?”