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KATE
The next morning, I wake early. Dressed in the capri stretch pants and plain T-shirt given to me by Lila and Jenna when I first arrived, I rise from my bed on the sofa and head to the stairwell. Running always helps me clear my head. Since it isn’t exactly safe to go out for a run, the stairwell is the next best thing.
My muscles are full of protest. The night of sleep and inactivity gave them an excuse to stiffen. My legs scream with every step. My back, arms, and stomach are sore. My gunshot wound throbs. Worst of all is the swollen ankle and poison oak crawling up my arms. Bits of it have seeped onto my neck. I’m an achy, itchy mess.
All the more reason to tackle the stairs.
But my achy body isn’t the main reason I head for the stairs when the sun is barely up. I need to think. I need to come up with a plan to keep Carter and his friends safe. To drag their brains into the new reality.
To my surprise, when I swing open the door, I find someone else already there. Jenna, sweat dripping down her temples, pauses on the landing when she sees me. The flashlight in her hand illuminates the cement floor between us.
We stare at each other in surprise, unspoken awkwardness ramping up with each passing second. I should say something, make an effort at friendliness with my son’s girlfriend. Truth be told, she’s the last person I want to share this stairwell with.
“Hey, Mrs. S.,” she says, the first to break the silence.
I attempt a friendly smile, hoping it doesn’t look like a grimace. “Hey, Jenna. Please, call me Kate. What are you doing here?” I try to make this last question casual, but it comes out sounding more like a demand.
She doesn’t react to my tone, instead plastering on her own forced smile. “I used to run track. I fell out of the habit when I got to college. Yesterday, when those guys came after us, we had to take the long way around to get back to Creekside. We didn’t run far, but it made me realize I’m really out of shape. I want to start exercising again.”
This is the first practical thing I’ve heard anyone say since arriving here. It makes me reluctantly warm to Jenna.
“What were your distances in track?” I ask, intrigued despite myself.
“I did hurdles and the mile. I originally signed up for track to get back at my mom for trying to make me into a cheerleader, but I ended up really liking it.”
“Maybe you should give us all hurdle lessons,” I say. “That could come in handy if we need to make a run for it and jump over zombies.”
Her answering grin is tentative. “Maybe I should. I could set up a course in the hallway.”
I raise a brow. “Coffee tables for obstacles?”
“No, too wide. Maybe some pillows. They would be about the right size.”
The mental image of the hallway lined with pillows, coupled with the idea of making Carter, Reed, and the others leap over them, brings a laugh bubbling up. Jenna laughs, too.
It’s a nice moment. I let it stretch out, enjoying the sensation of sharing a chuckle with Carter’s girlfriend. Maybe this won’t be as awkward as I’d feared. Maybe I won’t completely mess it up.
“Should you be moving on that ankle?” she asks.
“A normal doctor would tell me to ice it, elevate it, and stay on my backside for a week or two,” I reply. “But it will loosen up and heal faster if I move it gently.”
Jenna frowns. “No offense, Mrs. S.—Kate—but I don’t know if walking up and down the stairs is considered gentle.”
“It’s gentler than running up and down the stairs.”
A crease dents her brow. “Do you run up and down a lot of stairs?”
“There’s an ultramarathon called the Quad Dipsea. It’s twenty-eight miles of stairs.”
“Twenty-eight miles of stairs?”
“Yeah. They go up one side of a mountain and down the other side. You run them four times in the race. There’s over nine-thousand feet of vertical climbing.”
Jenna digests this. “You know,” she says after a minute, “that sort of sounds fun. If you had time to train for it.”
I look at her askance, trying to discern if she’s being sincere or sarcastic. As far as I can tell, she looks sincere. “It is fun.”
“I’d say maybe I’d run it sometime, but I doubt there will be any ultramarathons in the near future.”
Her words surprise me. “Why do you say that?”
“The world as we knew it is over,” she says. “I know it’s gone, even if everyone else is in denial.”
“I noticed.” It’s a huge relief to know someone else sees the true state of the world. I thaw a bit more toward her. “Can I join you?” I gesture to the stairs.
This time, her smile is less forced. “Yeah, okay. Honestly, it would be nice to have company. The stairwell is kind of creepy.”
I hadn’t thought of it that way. After being out on the open road, the stairwell seems like a safe container.
We tread up to the third floor in silence. When we reach the landing, we turn around and go back down. My bare feet are soundless on the concrete steps. Jenna, in her workout shoes, keeps her steps light.
I attempt to make conversation. “Has anyone, ah, noticed that there’s an ant problem in the kitchen?”
Her grimace tells me she’s well aware of the disgusting state of things. “Things pretty much went to shit when the power went out. We have water for drinking and keeping the toilets full, but no one wants to go to the creek to get water for washing dishes. We all talk about how great it is to have a nearby water source, but no one has used it yet.”
I glance at Jenna through my periphery, an idea forming in my mind. “Any chance you’re up for a mission?”
“You mean go to the creek for water?” Her eyes widen.
“There’s two of us,” I reply. “As far as I can tell, the immediate area around here is pretty clear. We can watch each other’s backs.” It wouldn’t be a bad idea for the two of us to spend time together. What better way to get to know one another? I’m sure Carter would approve.
“What do you say?” I ask.