VIII
A few minutes after the sun set, and Nancy had finished her sandwich she fell asleep on my lap. Liz and I sad with our backs to the trailer talking for a while before I thought we should really go in. I shook Nancy awake; Liz let out a loud sigh as she stood up. The sky where the sun had gone down was purple, still lit warmly from the wan sun beneath the horizon. My dad mumbled something at us when we opened the door to the trailer, I ignored him and went inside; Nancy was still groggy and heavy-lidded.
“You two should take the bedroom,” Liz said.
“Liz,” I said.
Nancy said, “Thanks,” and moved back past the kitchen.
“I won’t be able to sleep anyway,” said Liz, “Not there anyway.”
“You’ll be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. I can relieve your dad later.”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded, and I turned to the bedroom.
“I’m leaving the door open,” I said.
“Okay,” she said.
Nancy was already laying down on the bed. A box of food had fallen from the stack; cans were scattered across the bed. I pushed them to one side, and moved the box onto the floor. I laid down next to Nancy and fell asleep listening to her breath.
I woke—what seemed like moments later—to the trailer shaking. Dim orange sunlight came through the window over the bed lighting up the wall near the door fluorescent. My dad bounded in through the trailer.
“Get up!” he shouted at me looking intently into my eyes.
I froze for a second mesmerized by him. In an instant he opened a backpack and began filling it with cans looking at me—he clapped. I sat up with a start. Something fell to the ground outside with a huff, and it moved along the trailer whimpering.
"What’s wrong?” I barked.
“We’re going.”
I shook Nancy violently. “Nanc’,” I said.
I slid off the bed—my shoes were already on— and moved off into the kitchen and threw open the cupboards.
“What’s going on?” Nancy asked.
“We’re going,” said my dad.
The trailer door opened and Liz jumped in holding her baseball bat. “Won’t the car start?” She said looking stricken. I started piling things into a plastic grocery bag. I knife I threw in absentmindedly ripped through the bottom and everything fell out onto the floor.
“Where’s your hammer, Nancy?” my dad said in a hush. There was a sound of rumpling sheets.
I dropped to the floor and started putting the things from the bag into another bag. “What’s it like?” I asked.
“They’re coming.”
I rolled my eyes and Liz started loading a bag with things. “How many?”
“Lots, but we’ve got a second.”
Nancy turned on a light in the bedroom. It glinted off the rifle’s barrel leaning next to Liz. My dad leapt across the bed and pulled Nancy down, extinguishing it.
“Fuck. Nancy,” I said in a quiet shout.
“Not the time,” my dad said quietly.
I finished loading the new plastic bag, leaving the knife out. “Thanks for not drawing their attention, Liz.”
She slung the bag over her shoulder and picked up the baseball bat. “My name’s Elizabeth,” she said. And pushed the unlatched door back open.
I grabbed my jacket and crowbar from the table and followed her. There weren’t any zombies too close, and so I started pulling on my jacket. Elizabeth, already wearing hers started moving off toward the treeline down the hill.
“Elizabeth,” I said quietly. The sun just peaked out from behind the trees. It shone in my eyes for a second, obscuring Elizabeth. My hand raised instinctually and she came back into focus. She had turned around and, still in the shadow of the trees, looked at me darkly. I felt awkward still trying to pull on my jacket with my hands full. “We’ve got to wait for them.” I turned around. Dad was hurrying a groggy Nancy toward us; a zombie shuffling closely behind.
I locked eyes with Nancy for a second, and rushed toward them; crowbar held high. Nancy’s eyes widened, and she broke into a run. Dad spun around and started backing away from it. As I passed him, the stench hit me. It was a dull, sour smell; rotting flesh.
I brought the crowbar down in forceful blow to it’s shoulder. Bone crunched and a metallic clang worked it’s way up the crowbar into my hands. It’s knees gave out from under it, and it fell to the side. I heard a bubbling wet sigh come out of it. It’s arms shot out, and grasped for me but I was too far away. I recoiled.
Zombies were pouring into the field from the road at both ends in a stead stream. Some twenty others littered the field, but none too close. The smell was overwhelming, and I turned back to the others: Nancy in Elizabeth’s arms, Dad still walking backward aiming and re-aiming his gun.
“Don’t shoot anything.” I said passing him. I put the plastic bag around my shoulder and moved past the girls into the trees.
