dog more than I did right now.
“As soon as we saw the group of them, we knew they were trouble. They walked in a big group, right down the middle of the street, not caring who saw them. Some of them had baseball bats. One had a gun.”
“Was it the same guys we saw?”
“I don’t know. I doubt it.” He looked at me, fear in his eyes. “I mean, what are the chances they would have taken the same route as me to get to my aunt’s house?”
“Not good,” I assured him. “Practically impossible.”
“Yeah. You’re right.” He stared straight ahead again. “It means there’s more than one gang of them out there, though. Not exactly good news.”
I shook my head in disgust. “They’re like packs of wild animals. Zombies.”
“I used to read zombie books and go to those movies, laughing at the gore.” He smiled bitterly.
“Me too.” I reached over to pet Buster with him. “So what happened then?”
“We took off running. It’s like all they needed to see - it got them all excited. They were hollering and cheering, like they were egging each other on. It was a sick game to them. I’ve never been so friggin scared in my entire life.”
Peter grabbed my hand that was petting Buster’s head. I just sat there and let him squeeze it, saying nothing, just listening.
Peter’s voice was wavering badly now. “Lily took my hand and I saw her face. She was super scared too. And then as we were cutting through one of our neighbor’s yards, she tripped on one of the roots that was sticking up out of the ground and landed on her knees. I tried to help her get up but she’d twisted her ankle. She couldn’t move.”
I put my other hand on top of his, squeezing now too. I could totally picture the scene, his poor little sister on the ground and the pack of wolves closing in.
“She yelled at me to keep going, but I didn’t want to leave her there.”
“There was nothing else you could do,” I said, firmly. “You had to save yourself.”
“I know,” he said, putting his head down. “But I couldn’t just leave her.”
“What’d you do?” I asked softly.
“I stood there over her, waiting for them to come. She kept grabbing my pant leg, pushing me, screaming at me to leave, but I couldn’t.” He started crying again. “I just couldn’t.”
“How did you live?” I asked. I knew those canners had no souls left. They wouldn’t have just let him go.
“They came and took her from me, dragging her away while she screamed my name over and over and over. One of them punched me in the face and knocked me down, saying I was too skinny to bother with.”
“That’s kind of rude,” I said, without thinking. “Sorry.”
“No. Don’t worry about it. Anyway, they took her away, and I tried to follow, but one of them came back with the baseball bat and swung it at me. So I dropped far behind, following them from a distance. I saw where they took her and then ran back to my house to get my gun.”
“You were going to kick some ass, weren’t you?”
“You’re damn straight I was,” he said bitterly. “I took a whole box of bullets in my pockets and went back to their house.”
He was crying again, more intensely now, small sobs bursting out between the words. “When I got there, though, it was too late. I went around to the back where I could hear their voices …”
I didn’t want to hear the rest of the story. I knew pretty much how it ended and I knew the details were only going to make the knowing worse. But Peter needed to tell someone, and Buster wasn’t exactly in a position to appreciate its awfulness enough to help Peter feel like he wasn’t alone.
“What did you see?”
“Oh, God. It was awful. My worst nightmare come to life. I saw my sister’s head. On the ground. They were … they were …” His shoulders
“As soon as we saw the group of them, we knew they were trouble. They walked in a big group, right down the middle of the street, not caring who saw them. Some of them had baseball bats. One had a gun.”
“Was it the same guys we saw?”
“I don’t know. I doubt it.” He looked at me, fear in his eyes. “I mean, what are the chances they would have taken the same route as me to get to my aunt’s house?”
“Not good,” I assured him. “Practically impossible.”
“Yeah. You’re right.” He stared straight ahead again. “It means there’s more than one gang of them out there, though. Not exactly good news.”
I shook my head in disgust. “They’re like packs of wild animals. Zombies.”
“I used to read zombie books and go to those movies, laughing at the gore.” He smiled bitterly.
“Me too.” I reached over to pet Buster with him. “So what happened then?”
“We took off running. It’s like all they needed to see - it got them all excited. They were hollering and cheering, like they were egging each other on. It was a sick game to them. I’ve never been so friggin scared in my entire life.”
Peter grabbed my hand that was petting Buster’s head. I just sat there and let him squeeze it, saying nothing, just listening.
Peter’s voice was wavering badly now. “Lily took my hand and I saw her face. She was super scared too. And then as we were cutting through one of our neighbor’s yards, she tripped on one of the roots that was sticking up out of the ground and landed on her knees. I tried to help her get up but she’d twisted her ankle. She couldn’t move.”
I put my other hand on top of his, squeezing now too. I could totally picture the scene, his poor little sister on the ground and the pack of wolves closing in.
“She yelled at me to keep going, but I didn’t want to leave her there.”
“There was nothing else you could do,” I said, firmly. “You had to save yourself.”
“I know,” he said, putting his head down. “But I couldn’t just leave her.”
“What’d you do?” I asked softly.
“I stood there over her, waiting for them to come. She kept grabbing my pant leg, pushing me, screaming at me to leave, but I couldn’t.” He started crying again. “I just couldn’t.”
“How did you live?” I asked. I knew those canners had no souls left. They wouldn’t have just let him go.
“They came and took her from me, dragging her away while she screamed my name over and over and over. One of them punched me in the face and knocked me down, saying I was too skinny to bother with.”
“That’s kind of rude,” I said, without thinking. “Sorry.”
“No. Don’t worry about it. Anyway, they took her away, and I tried to follow, but one of them came back with the baseball bat and swung it at me. So I dropped far behind, following them from a distance. I saw where they took her and then ran back to my house to get my gun.”
“You were going to kick some ass, weren’t you?”
“You’re damn straight I was,” he said bitterly. “I took a whole box of bullets in my pockets and went back to their house.”
He was crying again, more intensely now, small sobs bursting out between the words. “When I got there, though, it was too late. I went around to the back where I could hear their voices …”
I didn’t want to hear the rest of the story. I knew pretty much how it ended and I knew the details were only going to make the knowing worse. But Peter needed to tell someone, and Buster wasn’t exactly in a position to appreciate its awfulness enough to help Peter feel like he wasn’t alone.
“What did you see?”
“Oh, God. It was awful. My worst nightmare come to life. I saw my sister’s head. On the ground. They were … they were …” His shoulders
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