Megan stirs, and I force myself to stand. To wipe the tears from my face and pick the sleeping infant up. Soon the heat will fade from her mother’s body, and it’s my job to keep the baby warm.
20
EVERYONE BUT JOSHUA and Parvarti are standing in the living room. Angus looks like someone punched him in the balls, and Axl isn’t much better off. Jim stands off to the side by himself, but even he looks affected by the loss.
“She’s ours now,” I tell Axl even though he already knows.
He stares down at the baby like he’s seeing her for the first time but doesn’t hesitate when I hand her over. In his arms she looks impossibly small and fragile, but he’s so gentle that I don’t bother telling him to support her head. He knows what to do, and he’ll keep her safe.
“Never held a baby before,” he says, just staring at her.
“You’re doing a great job,” I say, looking around. “Where’s Parv?”
“Rambo’s in the other room,” Angus says, nodding toward the small study on the other side of the stairs.
She’s the only one—other than Jim—who didn’t come up and say goodbye. Now that the hard part is over, I can’t stop anger from surging through me. She and Ginny have been through so much, and back when Trey died, we were all there for Parvarti. She should have come to say goodbye. Should have thought about someone other than herself.
“I’ll be back,” I say, heading toward the study.
I reach the door, just barely cracked, but the sound of sobbing freezes me in my tracks. It can’t be Parv. Can it? She’s been like a robot for so long, and even though she told me just a few days ago that she still hurts, I didn’t totally believe her. Is she crying for Ginny?
The door creaks when I push it open, and Parvarti turns my way. Tears stream down her cheeks, illuminated by the moonlight shining through the single window.
“Parv?” I say, stepping inside.
“I should have told her goodbye.” She shakes her head and wipes at the tears. “I thought I could stop myself from hurting if I just avoided it, but I think that just made it worse. When Joshua came downstairs and said she was dead, it felt like he had sliced me in half.”
I step further into the room and do something I’m not sure either one of us is going to appreciate. I wrap my arms around her. Parv stiffens and sucks in a deep breath, and even though everything in me says to let her go, I don’t.
“We aren’t done yet,” I say instead, tightening my hold until she finally allows her body to relax into mine. “We have more to do on this earth.”
In my arms, Parv feels impossibly small and fragile, and it hits me for the first time in a really long time that she’s still just a child. Only a couple years younger than I am, but she was so much less experienced. This zombie apocalypse slammed into her so much harder than it did me because she’d had a nice life and a bright future in front of her. In fact, if we hadn’t picked her up that day on Route 66, I doubt she’d still be alive. She and Trey probably would have died. They didn’t know how to take care of themselves, and I don’t know if they would have been able to figure it out without help.
I pull back but keep my hands on Parv’s shoulders. “It’s over for Ginny, but not for us. We’re still standing and fighting, and I promise you, we are going to make it. Don’t give up on life. Not yet.”
Parv sniffs and wipes her nose on her sleeve. “I’m not sure I can keep doing this.”
“You can,” I say firmly. “You’re stronger than you think you are. You just promise me that you’re not going to throw in the towel. Don’t do what Winston did—”
My voice cracks and Parv nods, and for the first time in months, I see a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
“I promise,” she says. “I won’t give up just yet.”
“Good.”
I step back and let out a deep breath. “I’m going to check on the baby. Take your time and pull yourself together. Okay?”
Parv nods, and I give her arm a pat before I walk away.
In the living room, Axl is still holding Megan, the zombies are still banging on the door, and everyone else is standing around like they don’t have a clue what to do. But there’s a part of me that feels better. More sure of what’s coming. Why, I don’t know—we’re still trapped—but I feel like there’s hope somewhere. We just need to find it.
“We got nothin’ for a baby,” Angus says when I come over to stand at Axl’s side.
“We’ll have to get formula,” Joshua calls from the kitchen, and I turn as he comes out holding a can. “Until then, we can use this. It isn’t ideal, but it will tide us over.”
“What is it?” I ask, leaving the baby with Axl so I can see what Joshua has.
“Evaporated milk. We mix this with boiled water and a little sugar, and it will get us through a couple days, but we can’t do it for long. We’re going to have to get out of here and get her some real formula. As well as bottles and diapers and all the other stuff a baby needs.”
Jim lets out a little snort. “You make it sound so easy.”
“Shut up,” Axl mutters, crossing the room to Joshua and me. “What are we waitin’ for? Let’s get her somethin’ to eat.”
The three of us head into the kitchen together even though it will only take one of us to prepare Megan’s food. I think Axl and I just want to learn what to do—I know that’s why I’m going, at least.
We use our little fire-in-a-can trick to heat water, and then Joshua adds some to the evaporated milk, followed by a teaspoon of sugar. Once that’s done, he shows us how to teaspoon-feed the liquid to Megan a little at a time.
“Thank God you knew how to do this,” I say, watching the baby lap up the milk.
“I wouldn’t thank me too much,” Joshua says, shaking his head. “If I had paid better attention, I would have noticed the placenta didn’t come out whole and I could have done something about it then. By the time I figure it out, it was too late to do anything. Ginny is dead because of me.”
“It isn’t your fault,” I say firmly. “It was dark in the room, and there was a lot going on. You had too much on your plate. Between the premature birth and the zombies and us worrying that the baby wouldn’t make it an hour outside the womb, anything could have gone wrong.” I pause and hold his gaze before bringing another spoonful of milk to Megan’s lips. “You did the best you could, but you aren’t God.”
“Yeah,” Joshua mumbles. “That’s one thing you don’t have to remind me of.”
Once the baby is fed, we change her diaper, using yet another hand towel from the bathroom. It isn’t going to be long before we’re out of towels, and then we’re going to have to move on to clothes or something.
Or get the hell out of here and find real diapers.
Of course, how to make that happen is something I don’t have a clue about. We’re surrounded, and it doesn’t seem like the zombies are going to give up any time soon.
We get back into the living room and find Parvarti and Angus in the middle of heated discussion.
“What’s goin’ on?” Axl asks.
Parvarti’s eyes are dry when she turns to face us, and her expression is more determined than I’ve ever seen it. But for once it isn’t devoid of emotion. The pain from Ginny’s death is etched in every line of her face.
“I’m going out,” she says.
“What?” There’s no way I heard her right. “I thought we discussed this! You said you weren’t going to give up.”
“I’m not. I promise. But we can’t stay in here or it won’t be long before we’re all dead, and they aren’t going away. We can’t be any quieter than we’re already being, and every sound we make causes them to get riled up again. One of us needs to go out and make a run for it. Draw them away so the others can get to the truck. It’s the only way.”
“You’re crazy,” Joshua says, shaking his head. “You can’t do that. It’s the same as committing suicide.”
“Do you want to go instead?” she asks pointedly.
Joshua’s mouth drops open, but it only takes a second for him to shake his head again “No, I don’t.”
“Then I’m willing.”
Parvarti turns away like she’s ready to throw the door open, but I step forward, cradling the baby against my chest. “Wait! We need a plan. We need to discuss this!”
“She’s not going at all,” Jim says, stepping into the room. “It’s a good idea, but there’s no way in hell she’s going out there while I’m still standing.”
“Don’t be a sexist ass,” Parvarti mutters, her eyes still focused on the door.
“That isn’t why. I don’t give a fuck what you have between your legs. You all need each other. You’re a family, and you’ve already lost too much. But I’m nobody. Not here and not back in Hope Springs. There’s nothing for me, and letting you sacrifice yourself would be the most selfish thing I could ever do.” He nods once, then lets out a deep sigh. “Besides, I promised Jon I’d keep Ginny safe. I couldn’t do that, but I can make sure their baby has a chance.”
“Shit,” Angus mutters. “You sure ‘bout this?”
Jim ignores him and scans the room. “In Hope Springs we used leather to protect us, but I’ve been all over this house and they are seriously lacking in motorcycle gear.” His eyes stop in the middle of the room, and he grins. “This just might work, though.”
He rips the rug up off the floor, pulling it out from under the furniture, causing a small end table to tumble to its side. I step back, trying to get out of the way as he flips the rug over so he can inspect the other side.
Jim smiles. “They’ll never be able to get their teeth through this.”
“Son of a bitch,” Axl says, moving over so he can get a better look. “It’s genius. All we gotta do is cut it up and tape it to you. Kinda like armor.”
“You’re gonna need some kinda mask, too,” Angus says, joining his brother and Jim. “But if we do it right, you just might make it through the mob without bein’ bit. You could get away.”
“I can outrun them,” Jim says confidently.
Axl nods once, then drops the rug and heads for the kitchen. “We gotta find something to cut it with and some tape!”
I sit in a rocking chair with the baby while the men and Parvarti run around like crazy, gathering rugs and rolls of tape. Then they get to work cutting the stuff up. They wrap it around Jim’s arms and legs, covering it with silver duct tape to keep it in place. They use small strips so he’ll still be able to run and move his arms to fight the zombies off. Even though his knees and elbows are exposed, I think he’ll be okay. Assuming he can get through the horde, that is.
Angus slaps a pair of thick winter gloves and a couple scarves on the table and steps back, his eyes narrowing on Jim. “Should be good. Them gloves’ll keep the bastards from bitin’ your fingers off, and if we wrap them two scarves around your neck that oughta be good. We gotta figure out what to do about your face, though.”
“We’ll do the same thing,” Jim says. “Cover my face with some thick material and shove a hat over my head to keep it from falling off. Hell, you can wrap duct tape around my head for all I care. Doubt those bastards could get through that stuff.”
“He’s got a point,” Axl says, picking up the single roll of tape we have left. “This shit’s serious.”
“Let’s do it, then,” Jim says, grabbing a scarf.
He wraps it around his face while Parvarti goes back to the closet Angus found the stuff in. When she comes back, she has two more scarves. Axl helps Jim wrap the fabric around his neck and up his face, adding a new one each time one ends. Once all four are secured to his face, Axl goes about the process of covering as much of Jim’s head and face with the silver tape.
By the time they’re done, the only parts of Jim visible are his eyes. They move my way for a second, stopping on the baby before focusing on Axl again.
“We’re going to need a distraction so I can get out the back door.”
“You got something in mind?” Axl asks.
“I do.”
“Well, spit it out,” Angus mutters. “We’re runnin’ outta time.”
Jim hesitates, and when he finally speaks, his eyes are focused on the ground. “Ginny.”
My stomach tenses as my grip tightens on the baby. Not a lot, but enough that she whimpers in her sleep. “What did you say?”
“She’s gone, okay. Dead. And if we tossed her body out the window, it would distract them and give me a head start.” He doesn’t look my way, but he doesn’t back down either. “She would want us to be safe.”
He’s right, of course, but the idea of throwing Ginny’s body to the zombies makes me physically sick. We can’t do that, can we?
I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. “You’re an asshole.”
“Vivian,” Angus whispers, forcing me to open my eyes. He
never
calls me
Vivian
. “What would Hollywood say if she was here?”
“If she was here we wouldn’t even be discussing this,” I spit at him.
“You know what I mean, and you know she’d tell you to do this.”
I exhale slowly and hold the baby more firmly to my chest. Angus is right, of course, but it seems so despicable that I can’t really think about it. Didn’t people go to jail for defiling a corpse? Is that what this is?
Even more important: would Ginny tell me to get over my shit and let it happen?
Probably.
Doesn’t mean I want to be the one who tosses her out the window.
“I don’t want any part in this discussion,” I say, getting to my feet.