“Dragged him off into the woods,” Lenore answered. “But I’m not worried about him no more. I’m worried about them.”


Ken staggered forward, blinking his eyes rapidly as they adjusted to the brightness of the day.


Wading through the high, dry grass toward the encampment were five zombies. The wind stole their moans away, but he could see their open mouths as their hands slashed at the air.


“Shit,” Ken gasped.


“Time to go,” Lenore said grimly.


“They have terrible timing,” Ken groused.


“Grandma would say it was a sign from God. That it’s time for us to step out in faith,” Lenore answered.


“You think so?”


Lenore’s solemn expression made his heart hurt for her. The pain in her eyes was painfully-evident. Finally, she nodded. “Yeah. If they had showed up earlier, they might have gotten Grandma, or us. But she’s with the Lord now and we’re left to fend for ourselves. We’re younger and stronger than she was. She got to spend some quiet days out here. I don’t think we’re gonna get those quiet days.”


Tears in his eyes again, Ken embraced Lenore, holding her tight whether she wanted to be or not. To his surprise, she didn’t fight him off, but rested her head on his shoulder.


“I’m sorry I wimped out last night,” he whispered.


“You tried to save me,” Lenore answered. “That’s not being a wimp. Now you can’t shoot worth shit, but at least you tried.”


“I’ll let you handle the gun,” Ken said with a sigh. Releasing her, Ken started to collect their things. Lenore had boiled more water and had poured it into a different container since she had ruined the other one last night. He snagged that and the campfire stove. “How long do we have before they get here?”


“Thirty minutes I bet. Let’s not be here when they arrive.”


“Where are we going?” He knew he sounded like a broken record, but he was at a loss as to how to handle any of this. Lenore was much stronger than he was and he knew it.


“Away from here,” Lenore answered with a shrug. “As Grandma used to say, ‘The Lord will lead.’“


“And if He doesn’t?”


“We’ll make it up as we go.”


Casting a worried glance at the zombies, Ken realized that was the best answer he was going to get.


22.


Nothing Is Easy


Lenore shoved the lawn chairs into the compartment in the back of the RV and wiped her palms off on her jeans. The day was cool, but she was sweating more from nerves than exertion.


“C’mere, Cher!” Ken wailed again from outside.


Lenore’s pocket was full of bullets and the gun was tucked into the pocket of her hoodie. She glanced out the window, checking on the progress of the zombies. They were circumventing the pond and slogging along the muddy bank. Another ten minutes and they would be upon them.


“Cher! Stop being difficult!” Ken’s voice was starting to sound hysterical.


The cat rarely went outside, but she had suddenly sprinted out the door just as they were finishing packing the vehicle.


“Ken!”


“I’m trying to get her! I can’t leave her! Cher, bad cat! Bad! C’mere!”


Lenore sighed and headed out the door to help him. Ken sprawled on his stomach, trying to reach the cat under the RV. Grumbling, Lenore sank to her knees and peered under the vehicle. Cher was sitting directly out of reach, languorously cleaning one foot.


“Really? Really? You pick this damn time to take a bath?” Lenore groused at the cat.


Cher flicked a dismissive look at Lenore.


“Ken, we might have to leave her,” Lenore said, hating to say the words. She looked over her shoulder, checking on the zombies’ progress. They were out of her line of sight, below the crest of the hill.


“No, I can’t!” Ken glared at Lenore, then tried to stealthily edge up a few more inches.


The cat gave him a sharp look, her muscles tensing. Lenore was certain the cat was about to bolt.


A low, hungry moan floated on the wind.


Cher lifted her head higher, staring past the humans with bright intense eyes. Ears slightly flicking forward, she lowered the foot she had been cleaning.


“Ken,” Lenore whispered. She could barely see the top of a zombie’s head peeking over the hill’s slope.


“Cher, come to daddy. The bad things are coming. Come here.” The tone in Ken’s voice was heartbreaking. It was desperation mixed with love.


Shoving up with her hands, Lenore scrambled to her feet. Her fingers closed over the revolver in her pocket. She stared at the zombie staggering fully into view a little more than fifty feet away. Lifting its hands, the creature let out a horrible cry.


“Ken!”


“Got her! I got her!” Ken exclaimed. “Help me up!”


Lenore leaned over, grabbed the waistband of his jeans, and dragged him out from under the RV. Twisting around, Ken scrambled to his feet clutching Cher in his arms. She was clinging to his shirt, claws dug in, staring at the zombie with wide, frightened eyes.


The zombie was now moving faster, spurred on by the sight of living human flesh.


“Get in now,” Lenore ordered as she drew the firearm.


Skirting around her, Ken hopped through the entrance. Lenore followed, her eyes still on the zombie. She quickly pulled the door shut and grabbed the two by four. Shoving the wood into place, she felt her heart beating ever faster. The groan of the zombie sent shivers down her spine. The answering moans of the other undead creatures in its wake made her breath catch. Her hand was shaking as she tucked the revolver back into her hoodie.


“Keep it together, girl,” she mumbled.


She hurried to the driver’s seat, brushing past Ken who was shoving a hissing Cher into her carrier. Lenore slid into the driver’s seat and glanced out the window to see the zombie stumbling around the campfire, growling.


“Lenore!” Ken cried out.


“I see it,” Lenore answered.


After fastening her seatbelt and making sure she could reach the revolver in her pocket without hindrance, Lenore meticulously followed Tito’s instructions on how to start the vehicle. She closed her eyes in prayer.


“Dear Jesus, let this work,” she breathed.


“You do remember how to hotwire it?”


“Shut up, Ken.”


The engine gave a little cough, but sputtered out.


“What’s happening?” Ken gasped.


“Low on gas and it’s been sitting for a month,” Lenore answered tersely. “Give me a second.”


The sound of something impacting with the RV made both of them start. A quick peek at the rearview mirror made Lenore shudder. The zombie was slamming its fists against the side of the vehicle.


“Lenore...”


“Shhh...” Lenore tried again and lightly pumped the gas.


The engine briefly came to life, then died.


Ken shrieked as the zombie reached his window. It beat its putrid, rotting hands against the glass, hissing.


Lenore again tried to spark the engine to life.


The engine weakly roared and Lenore pushed down on the accelerator, giving it more precious gas. In her periphery the zombie assaulted the window, growling as Ken cringed away chanting her name like a prayer.


“Got it,” Lenore said, then shoved the vehicle into gear.


The RV lurched into motion and rolled forward. The zombie’s bloody hands slid off the window as it struggled to keep up with the vehicle. Lenore turned onto the narrow drive that would lead to a farm road. The wheels slipped on the gravel, stalling the RV for a second, before they regained traction. Lenore clutched the wheel tightly as the RV bounced over the rutted road.


Ken leaned his forehead on the dashboard, dragging air into his lungs. “Oh, my God! Did you see its face? It was all torn up. I don’t even know if it was a man or woman.”


“It don’t matter, Ken. It’s dead.”


Lenore flicked her gaze to the side mirror again and was relieved to see the zombies were out of view. Her stomach was doing acrobatics. Cher was meowing in her carrier and Lenore didn’t blame her. The mere sight of the walking dead was enough to make her want to scream. They had spent so much time on the hilltop safe and far away from the rest of the dying world she had forgotten how horrible they looked. It was worse than any movie and the smell was nearly unbearable.


Settling in his seat, Ken took a deep breath. “I was so scared the engine wouldn’t start.”


“But it did start,” Lenore answered briskly. “Don’t go freaking out after we’ve gotten away.”


Ken frowned at her. “I’m not freaking out.”


“Uh huh.”


“No. I’m fine. I’m the epitome of fine. It was just so damn ugly! And...scary...and...the engine wasn’t behaving and...”


“Freaking. Out.”


Ken pouted. “Fine. Maybe just a little.”


“Get the map and guide me. Also, turn on that CB. See if we can pick something up.”


Unbuckling himself, Ken stuck his tongue before disappearing to do as she asked.