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  Who would argue with that? When no one opposed the idea, Justin drove slowly into the trees, finally coming to a stop near a small clearing.

  “We’ll stay here tonight,” he said.

  Justin and Daniel immediately stepped out with their backpacks to set up camp. Marie carried the backpack with Walter in it and went to find large sticks to make a small fire. As Amy opened the door, she paused to throw a glance over her shoulder.

  “Aren’t you coming out?”

  Patrick slouched in his seat. “I won’t be much use. I’ll just sit here and watch the jeep.”

  Was this a good idea? What if he decided to steal their only means of transportation while everyone was outside? Amy bit her lip, thinking. Patrick had no idea where the farm was; only she and Justin knew the directions to the place. Without the rest of their little group, he wouldn’t even last a day out there.

  Still, she decided to play it safe. She leaned toward the driver’s seat and flipped down the sun visor; earlier, she had seen Justin placing the keys there before stepping outside with Daniel. The small set of keys jangled as it landed on her open palm.

  Patrick snorted behind her. “If I really wanted to steal this junk, you think a missing set of keys will stop me?”

  “Probably not.” Amy leaned back and stared at him from across the backseat. She observed him for a while. Ever since their escape from the apartment building, they hadn’t really had a chance to sit down and talk about what had happened with Ms. Wentworth. They had been too busy surviving. But they had time now.

  “What happened in Justin’s apartment?” she asked softly. “Why were you fighting with Ms. Wentworth?”

  Patrick went on the defensive. “Changing the subject, are we?”

  “No. It’s something that’s been on everyone’s mind, and you know it. I would say it’s a subject that’s long overdue.”

  He eyed her carefully, and Amy wondered if he was going to jump up and flee. After a while, a look of resignation settled across his tired face.

  “Look, don’t believe everything she said, okay? I know what that old bag told you, but she was lying. She was . . . forgetful.” He looked away. “Sometimes, she would eat the food, but then she would forget about it. And the next thing I know, she would be accusing me of eating everything. And she believed her own lies, too! It drove me nuts.”

  When Amy didn’t say anything, he continued on. “Last night, I’d just about had enough. I thought, ‘Why not?’ No one believed me, anyway. I might as well become the villain everyone was accusing me of. At least I would be a villain with a full stomach, right? So I started smashing the cabinet that contained her food.” A look of regret passed his face. “I just didn’t expect that things would turn out the way they did.”

  “You kicked her, causing her to fall off the balcony.”

  “I was out of my mind with fear. She wouldn’t let go of me.”

  His sorrow seemed convincing enough, but Amy felt unsure. There was something a little too neat about the story that painted him as the victim. Never mind the fact that she had also witnessed his greed for food. She had seen him hoarding candies and fighting about who should get the larger portions. Even the way he had devoured the baked potatoes without any regard for others made his story less believable.

  The smell of cooked vegetables wafted into the jeep, and Amy’s stomach gave a rumbling growl. Marie was probably steaming them in a small pot. A thick vegetable stew would have been nice, but they had to conserve their water.

  Amy narrowed her eyes. “This conversation isn’t over,” she said to Patrick. “Far from it.” And before he could say anything, she stepped outside to join the others for dinner.

  “We’ll have to put out this fire soon,” Justin said as Amy and Patrick sat down beside the group. “We can’t risk it, especially if there are stray Runners around these woods.” He cast a hopeful glance at Marie. “Do you think the vegetables are done?”

  “Almost,” she replied. “I cut the potatoes and vegetables into small pieces. They will cook faster that way.”

  “Good thinking,” Amy said, approval in her voice. “They should be done in a couple of minutes, then.”

  Moments later, they sat there and devoured their meal, blowing on the potatoes and carrots as they bit into the hot chunks fresh from the pot. Dinner was bland, but luckily, Justin found several old sachets of ketchup inside one of the pockets of his backpack. They dipped their vegetables into the sauce to give them more flavor. It wasn’t the tastiest meal, but at least it filled their bellies with warm food.

  Marie reserved a handful of cooled vegetables for Walter, who sniffed at them before eating them delicately from her outstretched palm. When he finished, he licked her hand to show his gratitude.

  “All right, let’s talk about our sleeping arrangements,” Justin said once everyone was done eating. He seemed in a hurry to put dinner behind them. As he tossed dirt over the small fire, instant darkness fell over the group. Amy blinked, trying to adjust her vision to the sudden blackness around her.

  “Here’s what we’ll do. Amy and Marie will sleep inside the jeep. Daniel, Patrick, and I will sleep outside. Daniel cleared the place earlier, so the ground should be fairly comfortable. Wish we had a few blankets, though.” Amy heard him shift toward her direction. “I guess you were right, after all. We probably should have searched through those abandoned cars for extra clothing, blankets, and food.” He sighed. “Oh, well. Live and learn, right?”

  “I suppose,” Amy said tartly. “Although listening to sound advice in the first place would have saved you a lot of headache now.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” he answered, chuckling. He rubbed his hands together. “So, is everyone fine with these arrangements?”

  Everyone murmured their assent.

  “Good. Then try to get a good night’s sleep. We’re going to leave as soon as day breaks.”

  With a mighty yawn, Amy settled in the jeep and reclined the front passenger seat. What a crazy day it had been. She propped her legs up on the dashboard and stared at the night sky. As often happened when she was alone with her thoughts, she pictured her mom’s smiling face, gleaning some comfort from the memory. It was wishful thinking to hope that she was still alive, but Amy couldn’t help it. She missed her mom so much that her heart sometimes constricted from the pain. But she highly doubted that her stepfather was resourceful enough to keep her mom safe.

  That bastard better not have abandoned Mom to save his own miserable hide.

  From behind, Marie opened the door and slid noisily across the seat, puffing with exertion as Walter barked happily. “Quiet,” she commanded. “It is bedtime, Walter.”

  Amy sat up and smiled sheepishly at Marie. “Sorry about not helping with the cleanup. I’ll do it next time.”

  Marie laughed. “Oh, do not worry. I made my husband clean the pot. I went for a short walking exercise with Walter.” She paused. “Also, he needed to pee.”

  “Is there enough room in the back for you and Walter?”

  “Oh, yes. There is plenty of room. I will stretch my legs across the seat, and he can sleep on my stomach. It is perfect.”

  Amy settled into her seat again. “Good night, sleep tight; don’t let the bed bugs bite,” she muttered, recalling what her mom used to say to her at bedtime when she was a child. Back then, it had just been the two of them. No asshole posing as a stepfather in her life. It had been great.

  “There are no bed bugs here, Amy,” Marie said, her tone serious, and Amy smiled sadly to herself before closing her eyes.

  ***

  “Look, we don’t have much food. That’s all we have.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that. Say, that’s a nice-looking vehicle you’ve got there.”

  “Please, you can take the food and the medical kit, but we need that car.”

  Silence, then the sound of snapping twigs sounded next to Amy’s side of the jeep. She groaned and sat up, rubbing her eyes. The sky was still
dark. What time was it? It wasn’t even dawn yet.

  A burly man with a goatee pressed his face close to the window. He was holding a gun. His smile widened when Amy gasped in surprise and leaned away from him. From the corner of her eye, she saw Marie sitting against the door, her hand around Walter’s snout to suppress his barks. Amy understood. The man had a gun, and though he might think twice about shooting a person, an annoying, loud animal might be another matter altogether. Walter struggled against Marie, his body shaking with his muffled barks.

  “Good morning, sweetheart.” The man’s smile faded. “Get out of the vehicle. Now.”

  Chapter 5

  When Amy stepped out of the jeep, the first thing she noticed was that the man had not come alone. Standing behind Justin, Daniel, and Patrick were three other men with trimmed goatees, holding rifles and guns. She glanced at Justin, who stood there staring at the stranger with a wary expression. What was going on? Who were these men, and how had they found their group?

  “Move along. Go stand next to your friends over there.”

  Amy and Marie complied, not wishing to anger the man. He had a gun, after all. Still, despite their fierce countenance, Amy remained hopeful that their visitors wouldn’t resort to violence. They were all survivors in this crazy place overrun by Runners. They were now the minority. In a sense, she understood their need for caution.

  Their small group stood in a line, side by side. Meanwhile, one of the men began rummaging through the backpacks, pulling out items and tossing them onto the ground. Seconds later, a toilet paper roll came flying out of Daniel’s bag and landed in front of them. Patrick shot an accusing glance at Daniel, who ignored him and stared straight ahead.

  The leader ran his fingers and thumb down his goatee and grunted. “Hmph. Disappointing. Still, I guess it’s better than nothing.” His stern gaze fell on Marie, who hugged Walter tighter to her chest. “I see you have a live animal there. When do you plan on eating him?”

  “We will never do that!” she burst out angrily.

  “Then we will,” one of the men shot out. He stared hungrily at Walter. “We haven’t had real meat in a while.”

  Justin raised his palms and stepped forward. “Look, the dog doesn’t belong to us. It belongs to a boy who’s waiting for us to return his dog to him. He’s already lost his father; he doesn’t need to lose his beloved pet, too.”

  “The dog stays with us,” Daniel piped up, narrowing his eyes at the leader. “This is not open for debate.”

  The leader grinned, as though amused by Daniel’s audacity. “Brave words. But remember – I’m the one with the gun.” He paced before them. “Lucky for you, I’m feeling quite generous today, so I’ll let you choose. The dog or the jeep?” His grin widened. “It’s up to you, folks.”

  What kind of insanity was this? Wasn’t it enough that they were taking their food?

  “Why are you doing this?” Amy asked, her voice rising in anger. “You already have our food. Are you seriously going to leave us out here with no vehicle? Have you seen the hordes of Runners on the highway?”

  The leader raised his bushy eyebrows. “Runners?” he repeated. “Is that what you’re calling the infected? Because they ‘run’?”

  The other men laughed, as though it was the funniest thing they’d heard. Amy pressed her lips together, trying to suppress her fury. She had been so naïve. These men weren’t survivors; they were thugs. Plain and simple.

  Before she could say anything else, Patrick roughly yanked Walter out of Marie’s arms and thrust him toward the leader’s direction. Walter snarled and writhed in his hands, trying to bite him. “Here. Take the damn dog. You can roast him on a spit for all I care. But you’re not taking the jeep.”

  “Give him back to me!” Marie shouted, reaching for Walter. She clawed at Patrick’s face, who yelped and threw his arms up to shield himself, dropping Walter in the process. The dog yipped as it landed on the ground, rolled twice, and then shot forward to sink his canines into the leader’s exposed ankle.

  The burly man bellowed like a wounded beast and kicked his leg up, flinging Walter into a nearby bush. Pandemonium ensued. Daniel elbowed the man standing behind him in the face and then did some kind of powerful reverse kick that knocked the man down. Beside him, Justin headbutted the second man standing behind them. Judging by the ungodly howls, Justin had broken the man’s nose.

  That left guard number three. He aimed his gun at Amy, but she didn’t hesitate, surprising even herself. She rammed the tip of her shoe into his groin with all the strength she could muster. The man released a breathless scream and fell on his knees, cupping his injured groin with both hands. His gun lay on the ground beside him.

  All of this happened in a matter of seconds. Amy picked up the gun and steadied herself. She was surprised by how light the gun was, but put aside that thought to focus on finding the leader. Where was he?

  The sound of a running engine froze her on the spot. Just as she’d feared, the leader was seated on the driver’s side of the jeep. Justin ran to the vehicle and tried to yank open the door, but it was locked. With a soundless laugh, the leader gave an obnoxious cheery wave and drove off.

  The car keys. But how . . . ? Amy felt around her pockets, then groaned aloud as she realized she had placed them on top of the dashboard the night before. In desperation, she raised the gun and squeezed the trigger, hoping to blow out one of the tires. Hoping to hit something. Nothing happened. She squeezed again.

  Still nothing.

  Confused, she raised the weapon and studied it closely, wondering if the safety switch was on. She had no experience with guns, but even she knew that something wasn’t right. This was confirmed several seconds later when Justin came up beside her, a wry smile on his lips.

  “It’s a toy gun,” he said. He barked out a humorless laugh. “They all are. These punks fooled us with replicas.”

  ***

  “What do we do? Should we go after him?”

  Justin paused, uncertain. “He’s probably long gone by now.”

  Marie walked over to them, brushing dirt off Walter’s fur as she carefully cradled him in her arms. The poor dog looked the worse for wear, judging by the way he kept lifting his right paw. He seemed reluctant to let it rest on Marie’s arm.

  Daniel hurried over to his wife. “Are you all right?” he asked, checking her for any injuries.

  She nodded. “I am fine. But I think Walter sprained his paw.” She hugged him closer, her pale face creased with worry. “I hope it is not serious.”

  A small groan rose up behind them.

  Amy stared at the incapacitated visitors. “What about these men? Do we tie them up or let them go?”

  “We’ve got nothing to tie them with,” Justin grunted. “Their leader took the jeep and our backpacks.”

  A few paces from them, Patrick was rushing here and there, picking up the strewn items on the ground – toilet paper roll, several food cans, a carrot, a clean t-shirt, Walter’s rolled-up bag of kibbles, a water bottle, and bottled aspirin. He bundled the items in the t-shirt and straightened, tossing a furious look at the men.

  “Just leave them here,” he spat out. “They can crawl back to their campsite, wherever that is.” His expression turned ugly. “Maybe the Runners will finish them off on the way.”

  That still didn’t solve the fact that they now had no vehicle. Amy said so as much. Where were they to procure another car?

  “We do not have a choice. We must return to the highway and find a working car,” Daniel said, looking resigned. He paused, then reached over to pluck the bundled items from Patrick’s arms. “And I will take these, thank you. After all, they are from my backpack.”

  The older man was displeased, but didn’t say anything. Was he, perhaps, afraid that he might also be knocked down with a swift kick to the head if he said otherwise? Amy stifled a giggle and turned to Daniel.

  “I didn’t know you had martial arts training,” she said, awed. “What you did jus
t now was incredible.”

  He shrugged. “Many Korean children learn Taekwondo or Hapkido after school. I only learned for a few years. It is nothing, really.”

  Justin stared at the lightening sky. “We better get a move on. And grab the toy rifles and guns. They may be fake, but other survivors don’t know that. They’ll give the appearance that we’re armed.”

  “Good idea.” Amy jammed the gun into her back pocket. “But I don’t have the golf club anymore. It was in the jeep.”

  “We still have the baseball bat and the fire poker, so at least that’s something.” Justin pointed at Daniel. “Stay in the back. I’ll be in front in case something jumps out at us.”

  The group huddled together and shuffled out of the clearing. As the rest of them scanned the surroundings for signs of stray Runners, Patrick raised his hands and felt along his cheeks. He winced in pain.

  “You scratched the skin off my face. My cheeks feel like they’re burning.”

  Scowling, Marie snapped her head around. “You deserved it.” Her scowl faded to a disapproving glance. “Do not worry so much; the scratches are not deep. They will scab soon.”

  “They better. I don’t have a single scar on my face, and I don’t intend to start having them now.”

  Amy rolled her eyes and moved up to Justin. “Hey,” she whispered, walking beside him.

  He smiled. “Hey, yourself.”

  “So what exactly are our plans here?”

  “Like Daniel said, the first thing we need to do is find a working car.”

  “Yes, and he mentioned the highway.”

  Justin shrugged. “That’s where all the cars are.”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “And what about the Runners that chased us down the intersection? What if they’re still there, just hanging around?” She shook her head slowly. “We need to find a car here. We’ll never make it to the highway on foot.”

  “You have a point,” he said with a heavy sigh.

  Minutes later, the group emerged out of the woods and stood nervously at the side of the empty road.