We got all twenty three survivors into the back of the big semi by noon and drove them back to the cannery. There was nowhere else to take them. The inn where we’d found Molly was still utterly vulnerable to the elements and to attack. And all the other hotels and inns on the island remained full of the undead.
Our warehouse was still smoldering and the pile of bodies in the parking lot was burning sullenly in the light, half frozen mist that hung in the air. Four more bodies were laid out side by side and covered with leather jackets.
Four? Shit. I recognized Rick and Paul’s boots, but who were the others and how had they died? I stared at them from the open bed of Sarge’s truck. I continued to stare, trying to match the bare, mottled feet to faces while Jason and Sarge maneuvered the trucks into place.
The old couple in the bakery. A soft pang of regret made me sigh. I’d never even gotten to know them. And now I never would. They’d died because we’d promised them safety.
Molly walked up to me and helped me out of the truck.
“Annie’s down for a nap, and inside. I salvaged as much as I could from the warehouse. We’ve only got two days food and water. Maybe less. And only half a can of formula.” She whispered in my ear, half dragging me inside. She dumped me into the soot stained rocking chair and then looked away as she continued speaking.
“Paul made it back here with the Andersons, but he died a few minutes later. Blood loss.” She spoke softly and ignored Jason and Billy herding the women inside.
I watched her fiddle with a sooty strand of hair and held my tounge until she was done.
“They’d already attacked the bakery and the green house. It’s all gone. Burned.” Her eyes flicked up at my face for a half a second before she turned away to life Annie from her basket.
“But I’ve got enough food ready for everyone. We’ll have one big meal, and get some sleep. We can deal with everything else later.” She thrust Annie at me and hurried away, trying to blink away tears.
I shushed Annie and settled her against my good shoulder, rocking and whispering nonsense to her until she settled down again. People milled around, getting into everything and seeming to multiply by the second. I stared at the activity and tried not to feel threatened and claustrophobic.
It didn’t work until I started running the list of hotels and inns on the island through my head. There were three or four that would work to house all of us I decided. I’d have to check them out to see how defensible they all were. I was making a mental checklist of supplies when someone lifted up my feet, startling a high pitched yelp out of me.
“Oh! Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Chrissy, by the way. Molly said you had a broken foot and that I should elevate it and get you to eat. She made ham steaks! I don’t know where you got the ham, but it’s pretty good!” I stared at the delicate looking redhead jabbering way at me from my feet. I tried to see past the bruises and dirt on her face and concluded that she couldn’t be any older than twelve.
“Wait, what ham?”
Chrissy yammered away in my ear the entire time I ate and I wondered idly how one human could possibly talk so much. The fact that our pig had died in the warehouse was a little depressing, but I didn’t really have time to think about it much. The girl seemed to have no need to breathe between words and she pestered me with endless questions about the island and Annie, and any other subject that she could possibly think of.
When she moved on to asking what classes I took in high school I started to look for a way to get rid of her. Maybe it was wrong or crazy or whatever, but I missed the quiet of my normal routine.
I handed her my plate, long since empty, when she paused to take in a breath (finally). “Chrissy could you take of that for me, I need to change Annie.” I didn’t give her a chance to object, just shoved the late at her and leaned down to lift the tiny, limp body out of her basket, hoping for a full diaper.
I was in luck, sort of, and the slimy smelly mess sent Chrissy running away like a skittish cat.
“Just you and me babe.” I whispered to my baby girl as I dusted her butt with powder. She kicked her feet and gurgled at me. Perfectly happy and perfectly oblivious to stench of smoke and burning hair and human fat clinging to everything.
We spent two days burying the dead and rounding up what little supplies there were. The cannery just wasn’t cutting it as a shelter for all of us. Machinery took up most of the floor space, and it wasn’t insulated at all.
I made the executive decision to move to Christmas Cove. There was a large four star hotel there, secluded and hidden behind a long, winding drive and tall pine trees. With the extra help, and the cold, clearing the place of undead shouldn’t be too hard. Right?