Dear Child,

Do not think I have forgotten you

You who I love so much

Much of what you have been through

Through the thick and thin

Thin mother, oh so sick

Sick with disease that I am sorry you had to see

See, I do things you do not understand

Understand me, I am not a selfish man

Man has my blessing, you do too

Too many of the people lose faith in me

Me and me alone will love you till the end

End not your faith in me, dear child

Child love me as I love you

You are in pain

Pain I can understand too well

Well enough that I will give you time

Time to recover

Recover your faith I have not forgotten you

Chapter Twenty-Two

I’ve orchestrated another run. So far, according to the map of the local area I got from a gas station we have cleared all the homes in a ten-mile radius of our beach spot. Today I circle a small strip a few miles outside of downtown Saugatuck.

“Ok, Carl it looks like lower income homes over here, but that means they will probably have a lot of the cheap ass canned foods we love oh so much.”

“Woo.” Tom whirls his finger in the air behind him like a flag.

I invited him on this run because I’ve been feeling like our friendship is slipping. I know there is no way Tom can know what happened between Adonis and I that night, but the back of my skull constantly whispers, he knows, he knows.

I fold up my map and stick it in my backpack. We head out to our bikes. Dad is sitting in a folding chair watching the kids play in the sand off in the distance. He has the small wooden box, containing Mom, on his lap.

“We’re taking off, Dad.” I say. He grunts in reply. I sigh; I just want my dad back. The rest of the group is working on the house for George and Sandra. They need it; she can’t deny she’s pregnant anymore, and we are expecting a few new people soon. We met a young guy who was walking down the shoreline, saying he has family at the end of the state line by Indiana two weeks ago. He said whether he finds them or not he will be back before the first snowfall, and he seemed sincere. I just hope he doesn’t get eaten along the way. His name was Luke, and he said he was going to walk hundreds of miles to find his grandmother and wife.

The sun is high when we pull our bikes into an old trailer park. We walk to the first mobile home. It is less kept than the others, and I kick in the door.

“There’s a woodpile a few houses down. I’m going to go check it out,” Carl says. I nod. Tom and I enter the trailer. It reeks, and the first thing I see on the floor is the rotting corpse of a cat.

“Oh, God,” I gag. I look around the place. We are in the living room. I see the kitchen through a narrow door

“I’ll snag food. You check out the bedrooms for any good blankets.”

“Not a problem,” Tom smiles.

We split in the tiny home. Right outside the door to the kitchen is a yellowed ironing board folded up in the wall. Spider webs cling to it. In the kitchen the place looks ransacked already, or it always looked this way I can’t tell. The pantry is cramped behind the kitchen door and I have to shut the door to get to the food. As I slide it open I see something on the floor out of the corner of my eye. I jump as a rat flies out of the pantry.

“Shit!” I kick the door in frustration. The wall shakes and I hear a thud as something falls on the other side. I grab the few canned goods in there and shove them in my bag.

“Zoe!” I hear Tom yell, but he isn’t just calling my name, he sounds scared.

I go to open the door to the living room but it won’t open more than an inch. The ironing board must have fallen out of place when I kicked the door and is now blocking my path. I hear Tom scream, “My gun’s jammed!” He’s yelling, screaming, and then I hear it, something else is screaming, that too familiar screech of the undead.

“Tom!” I yell. I step back and run at the door. I hear the wood splinter and I run at it again. I burst through. The ironing board smashed off the wall. I run to the bedroom where Tom is. There are two zombies huddled over something. I take my machete off my back and charge at them. I slice their heads off with two quick motions.

“No!” I scream. “No! No! No! No!” My voice cracks. Tom lays at my feet, his stomach ripped out and his eyes open as if they are still screaming my name. I back up to the bedroom door and fall against the frame crying. I hear running behind me.

“Zoe!” I hear my brother’s voice from the front door. I look up at my brother as he raises his shotgun, still running through the little living room. He fires and I hear the blast go over my head. I look back and see Tom has gotten up. He staggers back with the shotgun blast to his stomach.

“Zoe! Zombie!” Carl yells at me like I’m stupid. I stand up and take out my favorite throwing blade. I flip it in the air so I am holding the blade. Tom recovers his balance and screams. No words, just their scream. I tense my muscles and let go. The knife flies through my fingertips and sticks in my friend’s skull. He drops to the floor of this shitty trailer.

I break down and cry on my brother’s shoulder.