Noah darted for the doorway, his heart hammering. For the last few minutes, he’d been lulled into a false sense of calm, but now the sense of urgency had returned.
Caddy’s voice was frantic and uneven. He clutched the rifle in his sweaty palms, certain he’d have to use it. Thank God he’d grabbed it from the car.
He entered the hallway and caught sight of Caddy’s hunched figure in the other bedroom. By the looks of it, she wasn’t hurt, but her eyes suggested something was horribly wrong. She pointed to the window. Noah scrambled over and stopped next to her.
Something was moving behind the garage.
Noah couldn’t see anything, but he heard the shuffle of footsteps, the scrape of something along the rear wall. The detached garage was about twenty feet high. Even though they were on the second floor, they couldn’t see behind it.
The two of them listened while the rustling grew louder.
Noah glanced at the rifle. In order to get off a shot, they’d need to lift the window and the screen; both actions would leave them exposed to attack.
The safest move was to wait.
Noah stared at the corner of the garage, waiting for a glimpse of their attackers. He grabbed hold of Caddy’s arm.
“Get ready.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I’m not sure yet, but we need to be ready to run. We only have three bullets left in this thing.” He motioned to the rifle.
Outside, the footsteps ceased.
Noah craned his neck over the sill. Did their attackers know which room they were in? Was it possible they’d heard Caddy? Maybe they were testing the waters, trying to lure them out. The prospect made him nervous.
He waited for the noise to resume, but the silence continued. Minutes passed. There was no way they’d been mistaken. Someone was behind the garage. Waiting. He was sure of it. It must be a trap.
“I’m going to check the other room again. Make sure they aren’t surrounding us.”
Caddy gave him a worried glance. He backed away from the window, still in a crouch, and turned in the other direction. He’d only gone a few feet when she signaled him to wait.
He scampered back to join her. The noises had returned. This time they were louder than before; they sounded like they were right at the edge of the garage. He heard a bang, as if someone had inadvertently struck the wall.
A shape emerged from behind the garage. To his surprise, the form didn’t belong to a person, but to one of the infected.
A woman—or what had formerly been a woman—came into view, her shoulder-length hair clumped to her head, a pair of glasses dangling from her face. Her lips were smeared with blood—evidence of a recent meal. Her eyes wandered the yard as if she were looking for an object she’d lost.
Caddy covered her mouth with her hand.
“What is it?” Noah asked.
“That’s Mrs. McDonald.”
The two of them watched as the woman perused the yard, stepping over the grass and debris. Without warning, she paused and stared up at the window they were hiding behind. Noah pulled Caddy’s arm and the two of them ducked.
“Did she see us?”
“I don’t know. Stay down.”
Noah bit his lip, trying to remain calm and quiet. Although the house was boarded, the last thing they needed was for the creature to notice them. They were in enough trouble as it was. After a few seconds, Noah raised his head, just enough to allow him a glimpse of the thing. Mrs. McDonald had resumed walking. He watched as she headed toward the driveway. If she’d seen them, she made no acknowledgement of their presence.
Caddy popped up beside him, joining the watch.
Mrs. McDonald scraped along the driveway, shuffling on battered and bruised legs. Noah noticed that she was slower than some of the creatures he’d seen before. It was almost as if the infection was taking its toll on her body.
Was she dying?
He recalled what one of the agents had said back at the salvage yard. According to the agent, the creatures wouldn’t last forever. Was it possible their lifespan was limited? He recalled the things that had attacked the house earlier. None had seemed weakened, but it was possible the virus affected each creature differently.
Mrs. McDonald swayed from left to right. She looked like she was having a dizzy spell or a vertigo attack. Out of nowhere, she stopped. The car was directly in her path. She craned her neck to look at it, as if suddenly hit with a wave of recognition.
Did she remember that the vehicle used to be hers?
The creature swiped at her glasses, as if attempting to straighten them on her nose, and leaned down to inspect the vehicle. In the backseat, Noah could still make out the slumped form of Caddy’s mother.
To his horror, Mrs. McDonald slid her hands along the exterior, looking for the door handle. Her hands smeared blood and fluid on the window as she walked.
“No!” Caddy yelled.
But Caddy’s cry was too late. The creature had already located the handle, and she pulled the door open with a tug.
Noah watched as Mrs. McDonald plunged into the backseat, hovered over Theresa’s still-warm body, and began to feast.
Caddy grabbed the rifle from Noah’s hands and raced down the stairs. Noah ran after her.
“What are you doing?” he hissed. “You can’t go out there!”
The girl ignored him. She moaned as she raced down the stairs, her entire body shaking.
“Caddy—stop!”
“She’s not going out like this. No way in hell.”
“There are men out there with guns! You can’t just—”
Noah made a grab for her, but she flung him off, her face red with emotion. She plowed through the living room and into the kitchen, then slid the table away from the back door.
“Caddy! I can’t let you do this!”
Noah lunged for her again. This time she raised the rifle at him. He stepped back and threw up his hands in alarm.
“Stay back or I’ll shoot!” she cried.
She turned away from him and flipped the latches on the back door, flung it open. Then she charged out onto the lawn.
Noah ran after her. Regardless of how irrationally she was behaving, he needed to save her. He couldn’t let her go out there to die. The rays of the setting sun hit his eyes and he staggered in the direction of the vehicle. In the time they’d been inside, the sky had darkened.
By the time he’d reached her, Caddy was aiming the rifle into the backseat of the car. Mrs. McDonald was in the backseat, gorging herself on Theresa’s remains.
Before he could stop her, Caddy fired. The resultant crack bounced off the walls of garage, echoing through the quiet neighborhood. Mrs. McDonald fell forward into the car, her head demolished.
Still sobbing, Caddy lowered the rifle.
“Caddy! Come on!”
Noah tugged at his companion’s arm, desperate to wrench her back toward the house. Gunfire rang out. This time it wasn’t from Caddy’s rifle, but from somewhere across the street. Bullets pierced the rear of the vehicle and dinged off the bumper.
He pulled Caddy off the pavement, out of the line of fire.
Behind the house was a clearing, followed by a patch of woods. Noah glanced back at Caddy. Maybe it was time to make their escape.
“This way!” he shouted, pulling her along with him.
His feet plodded through the grass. He clutched the paring knife, expecting to be assaulted by the infected on the way. Where there was one, there were bound to be others.
They’d only run a few feet when they saw a man emerge from the forest. Though he was about five hundred feet away, the object in his hands was unmistakable. The man fired a shot in their direction. Noah and Caddy turned on their heels.
A bullet hit the grass to their right, just missing them. There was no time to stop, no time to shoot. Noah’s worst fears had been confirmed. The men were the same ones he’d run into before. Not only were they outgunned; they were also surrounded.
Noah made a charge for the house, listening to Caddy’s ragged breathing behind him. The house was twenty feet away; the door was open. Thankfully, they hadn’t gotten far. The two barreled back into the house, and Noah slammed the door shut behind them.
They immediately moved the table in front of the door. Outside, Noah could hear the cries of men, the sounds of hunters closing in.
Noah had put a target on his back, and it was one that could only be erased with blood.