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KATE
The interior of the frat house is a gory tomb. I lead Roberts, Jenna, and Carter inside, my shoes squelching in the blood.
The first body I see belongs to one of the college boys. His face is scrunched in a rictus of pain. The body is on its side just inside the door, stomach and throat ripped open.
What have I done?
Recalling my interaction with the group this morning, my lips thin. I did what I had to do.
I pull out my knife, crouching beside the dead boy. He hasn’t turned yet, but it’s only a matter of time. My heart thuds as I place the tip of my knife against his temple. Forcing myself to watch, I shove.
Tears sting my eyes as the knife slides into the skull. He was just a kid. A stupid, lost kid.
A hand rests on my shoulder. Roberts. He gives me a tight nod of approval.
We fan out into the kitchen. There is blood and body pieces on the floor and counters. More gore is smeared on the cabinets and walls.
In the middle of the pool table is a body. Two zombies crouch on either side, gnawing on it. They’re so busy enjoying their feast they don’t notice us.
The dead boy on the table is Ryan.
Jenna falls in beside me, the two of us advancing down the left side of the pool table toward the zombie feasting on Ryan’s forearm. Roberts and Carter move in on the right side, heading toward the other zombie.
My shoe scuffs against the floor, the blood on the bottom making a soft squeak. The zombies turn their white eyes in our direction, baring bloodied teeth as they snarl.
Jenna and I spring forward. Her screwdriver drives up through the beast’s throat while my knife finds his skull. Carter and Roberts make short work of their zombie.
A wild howl slices the air. The last zombie leaps over a nearby sofa, charging straight at us.
I leap out to meet the creature head on. With a shout, I swing the knife. The front of its face buckles under the blow. Blood sprays everywhere. The zombie drops without another sound.
“You are officially the scariest woman I’ve ever met,” Roberts murmurs.
I draw in a shaky breath. “I don’t feel very scary.”
“You are,” Jenna and Carter assure me.
Roberts turns his attention back to the body of Ryan. “I got this one,” he says. “Believe me when I say this motherfucker doesn’t deserve mercy, but I don’t want his sorry ass coming back to bite any of us.”
He jams the knife through Ryan’s eye socket. The body twitches under the force of the impact, then lies still.
I let out a shaky breath and turn my attention to the rest of the living room. The bottle of brandy lays on its side, the remnants of the brown liquid glistening on a scratched oak end table.
I count six other bodies in various states of ruin. None of them move. All bear a myriad of grisly wounds, most on the throat and abdomen. Zombies are efficient killers.
As I move into the sitting room, a muffled cry makes me jump. I spin around, knife raised. The rest of my companions do the same. The noise comes from behind a closed door at the back of the kitchen.
“The bathroom,” Roberts says.
As a group, we creep toward the bathroom. Something is most definitely moving on the other side of the door.
“Did you hear that?” Jenna hisses. “I think someone is crying.”
Dread makes my feet heavy. Is there a newly turned zombie behind the door? Even worse, could it be someone who’s bitten but still alive?
“Get the door,” I tell Roberts. “Jenna, Carter, get behind me.”
Roberts hesitates. He’s probably not used to taking orders from a middle-aged woman with bad hair.
“The door,” I repeat, leaving no room for argument. It’s my job to take care of whatever is on the other side.
Lips compressed, Roberts nods. I ready myself, tightening sweaty hands around my weapon. He wraps one large fist around the doorknob and yanks.
A figure inside screams, throwing her arms over her head. She cowers inside an old-fashioned claw-foot tub.
“Ash!” Roberts shoulders past me, pushing into the bathroom.
Ash. The girl who made pancakes. I might be sick. Am I going to have to put down the girl who made me pancakes?
“Don’t touch me!” Ash screams, cowering on the bottom of the tub.
“Ash, it’s me, Caleb.”
“Caleb?” She raises a face streaked with tears. “You look like a talking reindeer.”
“That’s the acid talking.”
“Acid?”
“The brandy was laced with acid. Are you hurt?”
Ash shakes her head.
“No bites?” Roberts demands.
Again, Ash shakes her head. My knees nearly give out in relief.
“I-I was on the toilet when the screaming started,” she whispers. “Bugs started crawling out of the walls. Ryan kept yelling about flesh-eating turkeys.” She shudders. “I was so scared. God, I wish you didn’t look like a talking reindeer. With a green nose. Rudolf the green-nosed reindeer.” The noise that comes out of her throat is half sob, half hiccup.
Roberts leans down, scooping Ash up into his arms. She leans her head against his chest.
“Are they gone?” she whispers.
Even though Ash is scared and high as a kite, it occurs to me she’s not asking about the zombies. Those were not the scariest things in this house.
Roberts glances at me. “Yeah. They’re gone.”
“Ryan, too?”
“Yep.”
Another shudder goes through her body. “Thank fucking God.”
“It was the woman who came to have breakfast with us,” Roberts tells her. “She took care of them. She’s standing here with us.”
“All of those dickwads? By herself?”
“Pretty much, though she had a little help.”
Ash squints out at us, then shakes her head. “All I see are reindeer with tie-dyed fur. Oh, and walls with trees growing out of the side.”
Roberts responds by tightening his arms around Ash.
“Come back with us,” I say. “Our place is safe. We have supplies.”
“Come back with you?” Roberts stares at me with narrowed eyes. Behind me, I sense Carter and Jenna shift with unease, but neither of them contradicts my offer.
“In case you haven’t noticed,” I reply, “there’s a shortage of good people in the world. Well, a shortage of people in general, but definitely a shortage of good people.” I glance at Jenna and Carter. “We can use good people.”
“Caleb,” Ash says, “I want to go with the lady who got rid of Johnson and Ryan. Tell her I’ll make pancakes.”
After a long moment of hesitation, Roberts extend one hand to me in greeting. “My name is Caleb Roberts. I’m from San Diego.”
I grasp his hand and shake it. “My name is Kate. I’m from Sonoma County. This is my son, Carter, and his girlfriend, Jenna. It’s nice to meet you, Caleb.”
I look at Caleb’s defeated shoulders, at the wrecked frat house looming large and bloody all around us. This could be the dumbest decision I’ve ever made. But maybe I can balance out tonight’s dark deeds with a little compassion. Caleb did save my life, and Ash made me pancakes.
Caleb’s gaze shifts to Carter. “That’s one hell of a mom you got. She’s got balls.”
A grin spreads across Carter’s face. “Tell me about it. She ran two hundred miles on foot to get here.”
Caleb stares at me without blinking, absorbing this information with a long look that makes me want to squirm.
“I definitely want to go with you,” Ash says, “even if you do look like a psychedelic reindeer.”
A soft laugh rumbles in my chest, spreading warmth through my body. For the first time in a long time, I feel a twinge of optimism. Maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s go home.”