Zombie Patrol by Elizabeth Basque, J. R. Rain

again, and decided against it. After all, I really wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t want our first kiss to get her sick, too.
    Warmth spread into my heart as I watched her drive down into the mist. The feeling was, I was certain, love.
    At least, I hoped it was.
    * * *
    Just as I headed up the steps, Anna and Jared exited the building. My daughter carried a notepad with her. It was open and filled with what appeared to be scribbled writing.
    She saw me and her eyes widened. “ Daddy. You won’t believe—”
    “ Shh,” I said, looking around again. “Let’s head to my quarters first and talk about it.” We appeared to be alone at the observatory. That, I knew, could be deceiving. You’re being paranoid, I thought. The quarters was a one-room office near the observatory. Walking distance.
    “But, there’s no one—”
    I lifted my finger to my lips, then patted my right hand over my left twice; it was the sign for “beware.”
    Anna nodded immediately. Jared, of course, blinked in confusion. My father had lost his hearing in the military, and I had learned sign language at an early age. I had passed it on to Anna, who had picked it up easily.
    She signed: All right, Daddy.
    Spoken or not, I loved when she still called me Daddy .
    * * *
    Inside our quarters, which was just a single room, complete with a mini-fridge, a bathroom, a couch and a cot, I signed again for her to keep quiet. I hoped there weren’t video bugs in addition to the probable audio ones.
    “ How about we make dinner?” I said, then signed the word: house. I added, “I don’t know about you two, but I’m starved.”
    Anna nodded, getting it, and Jared was smart enough to stay quiet. She said, perhaps a little excitedly, “Sounds great! I’ll make some spaghetti.”
    “ Sure,” I said. “I’ve got a hankering for some pasta.”
    Anna signed: Hankering? Really?
    Oh, shut up, I signed and winked.
    I gathered my first aid kit and hunting knife. I caught Jared’s attention and pointed silently to the bow and arrow hung on the wall. His eyes widened a little, but he obediently took them down.
    “Just l et me use the bathroom,” Anna said convincingly. She was perhaps a little too good at this lying business for my liking. Anyway, she shoved her notepad and laptop into her backpack. She looked at me and signed: Anything else?
    As I glanced around, my eyes landed on a wilderness survival book. I grabbed it. I turned on the TV, and cranked it up a notch or two louder than usual.
    A few minutes later, with the TV still blaring, the three of us slipped quietly out the bathroom window and made our way down through the back trails toward home.

Chapter Twenty
    We were hiking through the woodlands.
    Anna kept wanting to tell me about what she’d learned, but there was only so much I could focus on. For some reason, I was having trouble focusing on, well, anything. I insisted on silence. I had to.
    Both Anna and I, and probably Jared, too, were accustomed to listening out in the wild. I kept my ears cocked for any sound other than the nature surrounding us. Someone following, perhaps.
    Or something following us.
    Why that thought occurred to me, I didn’t know, but I shuddered despite the fact that my skin still felt hot. No, not hot. It felt...burned, as if I’d spent the day at Santa Monica Beach.
    We continued on. I fought a sense of fatigue. I didn’t get fatigued. I could generally hike these trails all day long—and often did just that, on my various patrols.
    Anyway, I figured we were lucky so far to have refuge in the Los Feliz house. The place was undisturbed when we entered through the back door. I said a silent prayer of thanks to anyone listening.
    We were all starved. We had spaghetti anyway, leftover spaghetti, which we feasted on upstairs in my office so as not to disturb our guests in the cellar. No, our prisoners.
    No, my brother, goddammit.
    “ Look, Dad,” Anna spoke through a mouthful of noodles while retrieving her