Chapter Seven

Dan was getting worried. It’d been over an hour since John and Meredith had left. In that time, the sun had crept over the horizon, the birds had filled the air with chatter, and the outside world had brightened. He paced the house, stealing glances from behind boarded windows, listening for the sound of the SUV’s engine.

His eyes flitted around the rooms. In spite of the chaos outside, the house was clean and in order. Meredith had spent time organizing their belongings, making sure the rooms were neat and arranged. Having a system ensured they could get to everything at a moment’s notice. It also made the house more livable.

If we’re going to spend time here, we might as well enjoy it, Meredith had suggested.

Dan perused the stacks of weapons on the kitchen counter. Instead of giving him comfort, they fueled his unease. They were a reminder that Meredith was still out there, that she and John were in harm’s way.

At least they’re together.

Over the past few days, Dan had grown to like John. John had proven himself to be honest and dependable, and Dan was glad he’d offered to accompany Meredith. He just hoped the two of them would make it back safe.

He also hoped they’d gotten Quinn’s medicine.

Dan slid his forefinger along his pistol. In some small, paranoid way, he’d expected the creatures to swarm the house when the others had left, as if they’d sense the building was less secure. Luckily, that hadn’t happened.

The creatures were vicious and violent, but they weren’t that cunning.

He padded down the hall to check on Quinn.

About twenty minutes ago, Quinn had fallen asleep. He peered in now, watching her. She seemed so calm and serene.

How long had she been having the asthma attack? He pictured Quinn lying in bed, too respectful to rouse the others. In spite of that, Quinn was growing more resilient by the day. Although he’d tried to shelter her, she’d seen and been through more than he cared to imagine.

He was grateful she’d held up as well as she had.

He mulled over the events of the past few days. Thanks to the agents’ food, as well as the vegetables they’d procured from the Sanders’ garden, they’d been able to eat and drink without worry, limiting their concerns to the wandering infected. At the same time, he knew their supplies wouldn’t last. Sooner or later they’d run out of provisions.

Should they leave first?

Would it be better to set out for one of the surrounding states while they still had supplies? Head up north? As much as Dan appreciated the position they were in, he knew it wasn’t permanent.

Each minute they stayed was a blessing, but also a gamble.

He walked back to the kitchen and perused the items on the counter, envisioning packing them in the SUV. Although they’d talked about departing, no one had felt comfortable committing to a timeline. Not with the infected still roaming the streets. Their tentative plan had been to wait out the virus, watching for signs that the infected had perished.

He peered out into the backyard, catching sight of the bodies of the infected he’d killed. A few birds picked at the remains, their beaks jabbing and spearing in unison. It was as if they were performing a mundane task rather than consuming something that had once been alive. He’d have to bury the bodies.

The stench of death was one Dan would never get used to.

He longed for the day when he’d never have to smell it again.

He pictured his daughter in the bedroom. Even from the kitchen, he could hear the faint sound of her breathing. A firm resolve took root in the pit of Dan’s stomach.

One way or the other, they’d make it through this. He’d get Quinn to safety for good.

I promise you, honey.