Race to Refuge (18 page)

“Can you try the buzzer again?”

I did. And again. We waited for a minute and listened to see if a voice would come through the speaker or if the gate would suddenly lift up. Neither happened.

“Ty, I’m thinking we need to honk the horn. Alert someone in there that we’re out here.”

Ty scanned the grounds. “Won’t that bring more zombies out? What if the reason we’re not getting any answer is because they’re
all
zombies in there?”

I spoke calmly since I was worried that Ty was getting worked up over his grandmother. “Then why are we only seeing Zombie Zeke? How many people live here at Crofton?”

Ty shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. It’s a pretty big place. Maybe a hundred people? Something like that?”

“So why aren’t we seeing all the MeMaws and PawPaws out wandering around the grounds? No, I think there are some uninfected people in there. Let’s take the risk. Honk the truck’s horn and maybe we’ll catch their attention. Then I can hit the buzzer some more and I bet you that somebody will answer us,” I said.

Ty took in a deep breath. Staring at Zombie Zeke, he gave a few taps of the horn. It wasn’t as loud or as long as I wanted, but I pressed the buzzer again. And again.

Nothing.

Ty lay on the horn this time. It was a long, insistent blast. And the truck was a deep, serious-sounding base. Then he paled a little, motioning at the grounds.

A good fifty or more elderly residents flooded onto the grounds toward us. They were on the grass, which was still carefully manicured. They were stomping through the carefully tended flower beds. And they were streaming down the road leading to the gate.

I cursed, softly.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Mallory

By the time we got back to the car, it was pitch black. It was lucky I’d thought to carry flashlights with us, or we’d never have been able to find our way back.

“Let’s just sleep in the car tonight and then head out early to see your Nana,” I said. “It will be easier to see what the situation is like at the retirement home when the sun is up and we can see.”

Then I was kicking myself because a worried line appeared on Ginny’s brow. “You think maybe those things are in the retirement home?”

“No, I don’t think that. I like to stay positive. But I do want to be able to make absolutely sure the coast is clear when we get there. It’s good to think positively, but it’s good to be safe, too.”

Ginny relaxed a little. “That sounds good.” She yawned. “I’m pretty tired, anyway. Do you think we’ll be safe when we sleep?”

I wasn’t sure which was more dangerous—the zombies that were rapidly spreading the virus, or the dangerous, uninfected people like the ones Ginny had run into. I had a feeling that parking on the side of the road wasn’t a great idea.

“I’m going to drive on a little ways and see if I can find a good spot to park the car where we might be hidden. Do you know much about the route to the retirement home? Are there any towns you go through, anything like that?” I asked.

Ginny frowned in concentration. “There’s one small town that sometimes we stop in for gas on the way. I’ve gotten an ice cream there before, too.”

“But we haven’t passed it?”

Ginny shook her head.

“Okay. Let’s drive on for a while and see if we can get to the town. If not, I’ll find a spot in the woods to park. Maybe a driveway, or something that’s off the main road,” I said.

Ginny nodded, but looked worried. The fact she’d been hijacked last time was clearly on her mind.

I kept driving in the fading light. For a while, all we passed was a heavily forested area full of pine trees. But after a while, I noticed signs pointing us to the small town of Emerson.

Emerson was one of those small towns that had probably allowed itself to fall into disrepair at some pint, but was now trying harder. Old brick buildings in its downtown now housed what appeared to be galleries, shops, and a diner. The awnings and signs over the businesses were new and cheerful.

Ginny stared out the window, as if longing for a glimpse of something stable and normal. But there was no sign of life. Or of death.

“Can we just park the car and see if we can stay in one of these shops or something?” asked Ginny. Maybe they have fresher food there. And the floor might be more comfortable than sleeping in the car.

Part of me wanted to agree with her. The only problem was that we had no idea what the situation was like in the town of Emerson. For all we knew, there could be zombies roaming the streets at night. And it was night now.

So I reluctantly said, “Better not, sweetie. I think we’re safer in the car. We’ll just keep the doors locked, keep the car hidden, and we’ll be fine.”

I drove a little while to see if there was a good place to park the car for the night. Finally I found the gas station that Ginny had mentioned. I shivered, thinking of what had happened to Joshua at a gas station. I pushed those memories firmly aside. “There’s a car wash there. That might be a good place to hide.”

“
Inside
the car wash?” A faint hint of a smile from Ginny now. “I always love the car wash. Especially the kinds that have the things that come down and wipe the car off.”

“I like those, too. But I’m thinking we should maybe park just on the other side of the car wash. Out of sight.” But not inside where we could be trapped by zombies. A fact I didn’t want to mention to Ginny.

After we’d parked and turned off the engine, Ginny put her seat all the way back and quickly fell asleep. It took me a while longer. I kept thinking I was seeing movement in the nearby woods. Finally, I fell into a fitful sleep.

Hours later I woke up, feeling I was being stared at. I turned my stiff neck slowly to the left and froze as I saw a teenage girl with a long ponytail staring at me with blank eyes and her mouth agape. Her mangled body told her story. She lifted a hand and pressed it against the car window, growling at me.

I didn’t make a sound, not wanting to scare Ginny who was still soundly sleeping beside me. But I quickly started the car and firmly stepped on the accelerator, leaving the teen zombie staggering slowly after us.

Ginny had given me enough of an idea of the direction of her grandmother’s retirement home that I felt confident enough to head off without consulting her. I’d slept longer than I’d planned on, anyway. It was dawn now and getting lighter every minute. With darkness no longer lending us its cover, I was ready to keep moving.

As we sped down the road, I experienced a mix of feelings. For one, I knew that connecting Ginny with the family she had left was the best thing for her. But I also realized that I felt sorry for myself. I’d wanted children for so long—it had been the reason that I’d run into problems with my boyfriend. And now, with Ginny beside me, I almost felt like a mother. It would be hard on me to let her go.

I drove for what felt like a long while and then saw a small sign off to the right as I went past. I stopped and backed up the car to read it. The sign pointed to a small entrance for Crofton Retirement Home. I turned down the road and stopped, realizing that it was a gated community … and the wrought-iron gate was closed. The gatehouse wasn’t occupied, but I saw a speaker and a call button.

I rolled the window down but decided that before I pressed the button, I should make sure it was the right place. “Ginny,” I said, “We’re here. I think. Is this the right place?”

She lifted her head sleepily to look around. When she spotted the gatehouse she smiled. “This is it!”

I hit the buzzer. And waited. No answer from the speaker on the gate.

“Is this usually the way you get inside?” I asked.

“No, there’s always a guy who lets us in,” said Ginny, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and squinting to see better. “Is there a sign or something that tells us what to do if no one’s here?”

I pushed the button again and said, “No, I think we’re just supposed to hit this buzzer.”

I pushed the button repeatedly for the next ten minutes. I was about ready to just abandon the car and walk with Ginny through the wooded grounds when a woman’s voice finally spoke. “Who’s there?” she asked. Her voice was strained and breathless as if she’d just finished running.

A relieved smile played around Ginny’s lips, but I didn’t share her relief. Not yet. Something seemed off here.

“My name is Mallory and I’m traveling with a young girl named Ginny whose grandmother is a resident here. Could you let us in there?”

There was a long, empty pause. I swear I could still hear the nurse breathing heavily.

Ginny said in a loud voice that could carry to the speaker, “Please? Please let us in. I’m also looking for my brother, Ty. He was taking care of me. He’s fifteen. Is he here?” She leaned forward eagerly, eyes trained on the intercom on the gate.

Another very long pause. Then the woman’s voice said slowly, “I’m not sure you really want to come in here. It’s not safe. There are undead here.”

Ginny made a strangled noise. I was getting tired of the stalling and said briskly, “Open the gate. We’ll decide for ourselves how long we want to stay, but we need to come in and assess the situation here.”

Another pause. Then, finally, the gate was opened.

“Okay, so we’ll keep the doors locked. Let’s be super-careful when we get out of the car and go in the main door. That woman wasn’t very helpful, wasn’t she?” I muttered.

Ginny’s hand clutched the door handle so hard her knuckles were white.

The driveway to the retirement home was long and winding. I caught my breath when I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye and turned in time to see an elderly woman in a long nightgown wandering like a ghost through the trees in the early morning light. She turned as we approached and snarled at me. I shivered and glanced at Ginny. I was relieved to see she was staring out her own window and hadn’t seen the figure.

I wouldn’t have chosen to come here with Ginny, but I knew she couldn’t rest until she’d searched for her family. For me, I just wanted to keep traveling, hopefully with Ginny, to the safe house.

I found a parking spot in a very empty lot next to the building. Ginny said, “A lot of the people at Crofton don’t drive anymore.”

I was just glad I wasn’t trying to hijack a car. There was really nothing here to choose from. And nothing looked abandoned.

“Ready?” I asked Ginny, my hand on the car door.

She nodded, taking in a deep breath. We opened our doors and stepped out, hurrying to the glass doors of the retirement home.

As we stepped in the expansive entranceway, I gasped. There was a group of what had been residents in the sitting area inside. They were leaning on walkers and sitting in wheelchairs and staring blankly at us, moaning. They moved toward us.

Ginny looked frozen beside me. “Ginny, lead the way,” I said sharply. “To your Nana’s room. Come on. They’ll move slowly.”

And they certainly did. They hadn’t even moved a few feet by the time Ginny and I had run out of the room and to an elevator.

She pushed the elevator button and looked worriedly behind us as we waited for the elevator to come down. “Are they coming?” she whispered.

“Not yet.” I paused. “Do you know how to get to your grandmother’s room?”

“Sort of,” said Ginny. “I know what floor and what hall she’s on. The only problem is that all the rooms look alike. But she has a table outside her room with a vase and a bouquet of fake flowers on it. So we can find it as long as she hasn’t changed it.”

The elevator finally arrived on our floor with a dinging sound. The doors opened and we jumped back as we spotted an elderly man wearing navy pants and a checkered button-down shirt who looked very ill. I noticed he had a nasty cut on his neck.

“He’s just been infected,” I murmured to Ginny. “Is there another elevator?”

Just behind us, the crowd from the sitting room finally caught up with us.

“I don’t know if there’s another elevator or not,” said Ginny in a rush, staring at the residents staggering and wheeling toward us.

“We’ll find out,” I said, grabbing her arm and taking off down a long hall. “If nothing else, we’ll take the stairs.”

On the other end of the building, through a couple of sitting areas with various zombie nurses and zombie residents snarling at us as we went, we finally found another elevator. We carefully checked inside this time before boarding it, and were relieved to find there was no one in there.

“Fourth floor,” mumbled Ginny, hitting the button.

We didn’t say a word on the short ride up. I think we were steeling ourselves for what we might find on the fourth floor.

When the elevator door swung open, we cautiously peered down the hall. The lights flickered on and off. The electrical grid must be wavering. I remembered that it was dependent on people to run it—and if people were running for their lives, the chances were that we wouldn’t have power for much longer.

As if reading my mind, the lights went out. But there was a glowing strip along the bottom of the wall that must run on a generator as a safety precaution for when the power went out at the Home. It was down this dimly lit hallway that Ginny and I walked. She turned her head swiftly from side to side as she tried to figure out where she was in the hallway.

About three-quarters of the way down the hallway, Ginny stopped short. “Here it is,” she said with relief. “The table with the flowers on it.”

There was also a decorative plaque on the door with a rainbow and a mountain scene on it. Ginny knocked on the door. There was no answer. Ginny knocked again and a small voice from inside said, “Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Nana. It’s Ginny.”

The door slowly opened a crack and an old woman with wild hair peered suspiciously out. She stared at Ginny wordlessly for a moment as if shocked to see her there. And Ginny, relieved to see her and also desperate to get out of the dark hall, nearly knocked the woman down with the enthusiasm of her hug.

Now the woman opened the door wide and I followed Ginny farther in. I closed the door behind us, locking it securely.

The room was about as untidy as Ginny’s Nana, but I supposed that’s to be expected during what appeared to be the end of civilization as we knew it.