As they headed up the forest road, the car finally sputtered to a stop.
Dylan peered through the dark ahead. The cabin was faintly visible in the distance, only a few hundred feet away.
"I guess that's that," Lacey said.
"Hey. You got us most of the way there," Dylan teased, mock-reassuring as she put a hand on Lacey's shoulder.
Lacey smirked. "Ninety-nine percent is the top percentile."
"Fuck, I'd have to do extra credit just to get to sixty percent," Dylan said. "Come on!" She started to get out of the car.
"Yeah, before Uncle Lonnie shoots us!" Lacey said sarcastically.
They marched along the narrow dirt road, through the darkness, leaving the wrecked Continental behind them.
As they approached the modest cabin, the porch light came on. Its door opened, and Lonnie Dane stepped out.
He was a bold, bald senior in flannel and denim, his fierceness betraying his age and underlining his wisdom and experience. "Now who's out there?" he called, a hand over his eyes as he searched.
"Uncle Lonnie, it's me!" Lacey called. "And Dylan's with me."
"It's us!" Dylan cheered.
Dane gaped and grinned in delight. "Why, what are you kids doing out here so late? Come on over and give me a hug! Keeping me waiting!"
They stepped onto the porch, and Lacey hugged her uncle warmly.
Dylan stood behind her shyly. Lacey stepped away, and Dane held out his arms, giving her a nod that said, "You know you're getting a hug." She smirked and gave him as big a hug as she could. He towered over her, her head at his chest.
She pulled away. "We were afraid you were going to shoot us," she teased.
"Heavens no!" He looked at Lacey. "What tales have you been telling?"
"It's been a really bad night," Lacey said.
"Even when I was sheriff of Monroe County," he said to Dylan, "I never once, in forty years, carried a weapon, nor did I have a need for one, thank you."
"Don't you know what's going on, Mr. Dane?" Dylan asked. She was always polite around Lacey's uncle. She respected him, and respected Lacey, too. "There's zombies!"
"It's true, Uncle Lonnie," Lacey said. "There are these dead bodies and they're walking around and killing people."
"Zombies!" Dane exclaimed.
His eyebrow lifted, a sharp eye cast to the distance. "Come inside," he said, his tone serious. "Tell me all that's happened."
Dane hustled them into his cabin and made sure the door was doubly locked. Lacey hurried ahead and locked the kitchen door.
Dylan had never been here before and looked around admiringly at the cozy, inviting cabin. In an instant, she better understood Lacey's desire to have a nice home. Now, she wanted one, too, if it was like this.
Dane walked up to Lacey. "You girls aren't hurt at all, are you?"
"No," Lacey said. "Dylan is the toughest fighter."
"Yeah, and Lacey's commander and the leader," Dylan said, joining them. "So you believe us? Just like that?"
"Of course! You wouldn't make up something like that."
"But it's zombies, man!"
Dane chuckled as he went to the radio he kept in the corner and turned it on. "I've been around the corner, kiddo, and the time you believe in people is when they're saying something unbelievable. Especially when it's family," he said. "Help yourselves to some coffee if you'd like. It's fresh."
Lacey stepped into the kitchen and over to the coffee pot. She shook as she poured herself a cup.
Dylan sidled up to her, standing closely. She grabbed a paper towel and wiped the bits of congealing red slime off her short black gloves.
"Hey," she said, leaning in and keeping her voice low. "I know your uncle is boss. But is he for real?"
"Totally," Lacey said. "The last case he worked on, a cannibal took a couple hostage in the woods and ate them."
"No shit!" Dylan exclaimed.
Lacey nodded emphatically as she took a sip of coffee.
Dylan's expression diminished as she looked at Lacey. "Are you all right?" She put a comforting hand to Lacey's arm.
"Uh-huh," Lacey said, shaking her head. "Those things. They were in our building. One was in our apartment."
"Oh, man. I'm sorry," Dylan said.
"I'm fine," Lacey said. "It's just a lot, you know?"
"We're safe now. We can relax. There aren't any cemeteries in the forest," Dylan said. "Can I hug you?"
Lacey nodded, and they embraced. She held Dylan tightly, releasing a hard shudder.
She exhaled, and they pulled away. In her smile, Dylan could see that she felt infinitely better.
Dane, waiting respectfully, stepped over.
"I'm not getting anything on the radio. I don't know why," he said. "You two rest. I'm gonna step outside for just a minute. Kitten, there's a tub of your stuff in the guest room if you need to change up. Shower's yours, too, if you'd like."
Dylan looked at Lacey, a grin forming. From now and until forever she was going to refer to her as "kitten."
"Thanks, yeah," Lacey said. She looked at her pajamas, and her hands and forearms covered in black. "I'm a mess."
"Thank you, Mr. Dane," Dylan said.
Dane nodded. "All right." And stepped out of the cabin, slamming the door shut behind him as he gave thought to the unusual situation.
Together, Dylan and Lacey went into the small room to the side of the spacious den, nestled partly under the stairs to the loft bedroom above.
*~*~*
It was the smallest room Dylan had ever seen. A single twin bed dominated it, leaving only a slight space between it and the wall.
The light only inches from their heads shined especially brightly in the brief area.
Lacey walked along the narrow space beside the bed to a sizable blue plastic tub in the corner. She opened it and started going through its contents.
Dylan sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back to watch as Lacey pulled out various shirts and a pair of denim shorts.
Lacey put on a short sleeve flannel shirt over her tank top, then pushed off her fleece bottoms and stepped into the high-waisted shorts, tugging them taut.
Dylan stared, heart pounding, suddenly overcome.
"Some night, huh?" she said. "Zombies and shit."
Lacey sighed. "Yeah. Some night."
"You were really awesome fixing the car back there."
"Thanks," Lacey said.
"I was checking out your ass the entire time you were doing it."
Lacey bolted upright and spun around, astonished. "Dylan!"
She shrugged. "I can't get enough of your stuff. You've got a great little ass. And fucking amazing legs! I love those shorts on you."
"They're from when I was fourteen."
Dylan bit her lip as she smiled, releasing a deep breath. "Oh, shit." She got up, crossed the few steps to Lacey, and held her, felt over her. In such a small room, what normally would have been intimate became claustrophobic.
"Wow!" Lacey said. "You really are horny all the time, aren't you?"
"Only when I'm with you, or thinking about you, or sleeping next to you. So, yeah, all the time. What's wrong with that?"
"Are you serious? There are corpses walking around and killing people! How can you be aroused with all of this happening? People are dying!"
Dylan scoffed. "I know that!" she said. "But everything about you drives me wild. And it's not just your sweet body. You're smart and amazing. I was so scared. The zombies fucked up this stupid customer and left his body in the street. I was afraid they were going to find you while you were sleeping and do the same to you."
She kissed at Lacey's lips and chin, and along her slender neck.
"I don't really sleep anymore," Lacey said "I'm either hanging out with you at that store or up all night thinking about us."
Dylan pulled away, giving Lacey a perplexed look. "What are you saying?"
"Dylan, I love you. I really do. But…" Lacey glanced down.
"What?" Dylan said, forcefully. "Fucking say it!"
"Do you really think it can be like this in the future?" Lacey said, in a voice almost too soft to hear. "I want a career, and a nice house. And I'm just worried that I'm going to be doing all of these things, and you'll just be like a cat I keep, instead of my partner."
Dylan tensed, so hurt and outraged she could only offer the faintest squeak. "So… I'm not good enough for you? That's what you're saying. I'm not good enough for you anymore."
"I'm just worried…"
"You think I'm just a fucking house cat."
"No!"
"Then what am I?"
Lacey sighed. "I love you," she said. "But… I want more for us, too."
"Sure," Dylan said tightly, glaring. "Okay. I get it." With her hands in fists and breathing angrily, she turned and left the small room.
"Dylan…"
"Fuck off!" she spat.
*~*~*
The conversation had gone too much the way she had imagined it would.
Lacey listened as Dylan charged through the adjacent kitchen and stormed out through the back door.
She turned off the light, and as she left the room looked at the kitchen door. She considered going after Dylan to better explain what she had meant, but knew her too well, and instead went out through the front door.
Lacey stepped onto the porch, closing the door quietly behind her. Dane was standing there, hands in his pockets and searching into the distance.
"How you doing, kitten?" he asked.
"Good," she replied, mechanically. And sighed. "Not good at all."
"I wasn't sure how much privacy to give you two."
"Well, you don't have to worry about that," Lacey said.
Dane grunted. "Thought I heard a door slamming."
Lacey nodded, folding her arms. "I said something I should've just kept to myself. Especially tonight."
"Are you two having a spat?" Dane asked.
"Maybe. I don't know. We've never had a fight before. Not like this. I've never seen her that mad. She didn't say anything."
They stood together in silence.
"Did you find out what's going on at all?" Lacey asked.
"Nope. Radio's dead. Phone's dead. It's like the whole world's been switched off. It's not right."
A sharp crackle and distant rumble sounded from deep within the woods.
"What was that?" Lacey said.
"That's just the trees. You know, they say the trees around here can move." His two fingers aimed downward mimed a sassy shuffle. "Sliding around and whatnot."
"Fabulous."
Another long silence. Lacey glanced back, hoping Dylan would join them, give her the chance to explain herself, to beg for her understanding. She felt alone, the way she had before she'd found Dylan.
"Whatever's going on, I hope you two figure things out," Dane said. "You always seem so sweet on each other. I'd hate for that to end."
"I don't know what's going to happen anymore." She shuddered. "One of those things killed this old woman who lived down the hall. Mrs. Jacoby. She was always so nice to us. It strangled her with her own oxygen tubes."
Lacey rested against her uncle, and Dane embraced her.
As Lacey calmed, there was a sudden rasp, the sound long and loud. She looked up. The rasp grew louder.
Then there was a second rasp over it. And a third. Several more. Until all at once it sounded like the entire forest was hissing at them.
"Uncle Lonnie," Lacey said, trembling in fear. "That's them. They're here!"
And slowly they began to emerge from the darkness, walking skeletons, their bones stained with mud and held together by rotted strands of sinew. They lurched forward, one by one, ambling toward the cabin.
"My God!" Dane exhaled.
Heavy footsteps sounded. Dylan appeared from the side of the cabin and swatted the nearest zombie with an iron poker, its skull shattering like dusty porcelain.
"There's zombies fucking everywhere, man!" she shouted.
Dane and Lacey stepped off the porch, and Dylan joined them. There were eight zombies in sight, shadowy in the dark and steadily becoming illuminated as they neared from all directions. Dark yellow bile oozed from their gaping mouths.
"Get in the truck," Dane said. "Go on now!"
They hurried to Dane's red pick-up truck. He pulled out his keys, and with a click of its remote the doors unlocked and lights flared to life. They jumped inside, and he started the truck. With the engine thundering, he did not wait to tear down the dirty path and through two oncoming skeletons.
They burst into dust and bits of bone, rotted tissue flecking over the grill.
"Where are they all coming from?" Lacey cried.
"They must be members of the native tribes that once populated these forests," he said. "They've come back!"
As the truck surged down the lane, something ahead became illuminated in its lights.
Lacey gasped, eyes widening.
It was a wall of dead, at least twenty oozing, purple-red bodies filling the lane.
"Those are the zombies from the city! They followed us!" Lacey said.
They lumbered as one, pressed against each other for support, reaching out and rasping angrily at the air. As they neared, it became apparent they were covered with the fresh blood of their victims. The truck's lights caught in their hollow eye sockets, and gleamed off the knives being clutched by more than a few.
"Hang on, kids," Dane said.
Dane turned sharply, going off the path. They bounced in their seats. Ground shredded under them as he dodged a large fir and several narrower trees. When they were finally around the mass of zombies, he got back onto the dirt path.
They soon reached the paved county road, and powered only further away.
"And there you go!" Dane said. "That's how it's done."
"Fuckin' A, that was awesome!" Dylan cheered.
Lacey smiled elatedly and turned to see Dylan behind her. Their eyes met, and Dylan's smile immediately disappeared. With a wounded glare, she sat back and turned away.
Clearly, they had nothing to talk about.
Lacey faced forward, feeling guilty and alone again.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"I reckon Pankow ARL is the safest place for us to be," Dane said. "They'll know best how to deal with something like this. They're a ways away, though. It'll be a good while before we get there."
Lacey nodded, not certain she could endure the silence for so long.