Red Hill (Red Hill 1)

“Oh my God!” Ashley said.

Bryce shushed her, and returned his attention to Skeeter. “Is she . . . ?”

Doris brought a blanket from the hall and spread it over the top of the woman. “God bless you, Jill. May the Lord open his arms wide for you and keep you.”

We all stood there and watched in uncomfortable silence while Skeeter sobbed quietly for another twenty minutes or so. After a while he caught his breath, and then wiped his face. “So I guess uh . . . I guess we better bury her.”

Doris shifted, nervous. “How are we going to do that with those things out there?”

An older man with white hair spoke. “We can’t just throw her outside, Doris, and she can’t stay in here.”

Doris fidgeted, finally putting her fingers to her mouth. “I’m . . . I’m so sorry, Skeeter, but I can’t go out there.”

“I’ll go,” Bryce said. Skeeter looked up at him with wet eyes. “I’ll help you. We’ll need someone watching our backs, and maybe a distraction, but I’ll help you dig.”

I crossed my arms, trying to keep the words I was about to say from falling out of my mouth, but they came anyway. “I’ll help, too. I’ll distract them.”

“You can be the lookout,” Bryce said. “Coop was in track. He can be the distraction.”

“What?” Cooper said, eyes wide. “Me?”

Ashley grabbed on to him. “No,” she frowned, desperation in her voice. “We’re not sending him out there as bait.”

Cooper wrapped both arms around Ashley, his eyes falling on Skeeter. “I appreciate you helping us out back there, man, but going outside in the dark is an unnecessary risk. What if they get inside and we’re all out there digging a hole? There are women and children in here.”

“I’m buryin’ my wife,” Skeeter said, standing. He was just as tall as Bryce, and a lot more intimidating. “I’m not asking anyone for help.”

“I know you’re not,” Bryce said. “Let’s take a minute and think of a plan so that everyone is safe.”

Skeeter wiped his face again and nodded. The white-haired man went over to the woman’s body and began to quietly pray.

“It should be light before long,” I said. “Let’s put together a plan, and when the sun comes up, we’ll bury Jill.”

Skeeter nodded. “Thank you.”

The youngest and oldest of us were fast asleep while we planned Jill’s funeral. The church’s cemetery wasn’t fifty yards away. Skeeter wanted to bury her there. Already my heart was pounding, thinking about standing in the morning fog, in a cemetery, watching for zombies. It didn’t get any more Hollywood horror story than that.

“I’m going to bury her by her grandpa,” Skeeter said. “He was laid to rest on the north side.”

Bryce nodded. “Okay, so Eric and Gary get on the roof and get them away from the back door. Coop can run out and get them to follow him around until we’re finished.”

“How long do you think that’ll take?” Cooper asked, swallowing hard. “To dig a grave, I mean.”

Bryce shrugged. “As long as it takes. We’ll work fast as we can.”

Ashley sighed. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“I’ll keep an eye out while you’re digging,” I said. “Cooper will run around like lost zombie bait . . .”

“I’ll say a few words,” the reverend said, straightening his tie. He looked more nervous than Ashley. “And then we’re getting the hell back inside.”

“Not before,” Skeeter took in a quick breath, “not before I make sure she doesn’t come back, and we cover her with dirt.”

I nodded. It was a plan. A simple plan. There was no way it was going to work, but at least we had one.

Chapter Thirteen

Scarlet

The background noise of my escape from Anderson was intermittent gunfire as the patrols were likely panicking with the herd of undead roaming the streets. I had retraced my steps back to Tavia’s, planning on persuading Tobin to come with me to the doctor’s ranch.

Just as I crossed the intersection into my grandparents’ front lawn and the streetlight was behind me, I saw a dark form lying on the ground. “Tobin?” I said quietly. I still held out hope that it wasn’t my friend until I saw the cornrows poking out in every direction.

“Tobin?” I said, approaching carefully. He was lying on his side, facing away. I prepared myself to run if he moved toward me. I wasn’t sure what he was.

I glanced at Tavia’s house, noting the spray of bullet holes that had penetrated the siding, the windows, and the storm door. I leaned down, seeing that Tobin’s lifeless body was in the same tattered condition.

I choked back tears and vomit. The same bastards that had gunned down the family on the bridge had done the same to Tobin. I didn’t want to leave him in the yard, but what could I do? Just then a diesel engine gunned several blocks away. “I’m sorry, friend,” I said. Running once again as fast as I could, I raced back the way we came, not knowing which I dreaded more: getting caught, or escaping through the woods alone in the darkness.

Back through town, I had to chance running across the bridge and then down the road. It seemed safer than traveling through the tall grass by the river. The engines of the soldiers’ trucks couldn’t be heard, so I darted back across the highway and through the woods to my vehicle. I slammed the door and locked it, taking one quick glance around before bawling uncontrollably. I hadn’t prepared myself for what it might be like to leave Anderson without my children, or seeing Tobin’s body full of holes, or surviving something that made me feel an unbelievable amount of fear.

The headlights of the Jeep burned through the night as I flew down Highway 11. Less than half an hour after I turned north onto Highway 123, the high-pitched wail of a car alarm could be heard. The noise peaked and fell quickly, like the ray guns in the old science-fiction movies my mother used to watch.

I’m trying to watch a movie, Scarlet. Can’t you find something else to do other than to bug me all day? Can I never have time to myself? Go away! my mother would say.

My desperate, tiny, eight-year-old voice replayed perfectly in my ear. You’ve been working all day.

I’m trying to watch TV!