I reached up and stroked his cheek. “I love you.”
He looked as if I had startled him from dark thoughts. He paused a moment and then leaned in and kissed me deeply. “I love you too,” he whispered in my ear as he crushed me against him.
Together, we turned to go back to the gym.
Ian’s shadowed figure was in the doorway.
Jamie paused.
Ian turned and walked back into the building.
“He’ll accept, in time,” I said.
Jamie did not look sure.
Chapter 18
For the next two months I watched for any sign of the strange shadowy figures I had seen on New Year’s Eve. I never saw them again. I also did not see the forest lord and lady again though I had repeatedly gone looking for them.
Ian did not come around either. When I saw him in town, he paid me little attention. In fact, he seemed to avoid me. Jamie said he rarely came out unless he was on rotation. When Ian appeared in the school gym one day in March when he knew I would be there, I was surprised. I was even more surprised at his appearance. He was a shadow of his former self: his eyes were sunken, his clothes were hanging loose, his cheeks were hollow.
“Jesus Christ, Ian, when was the last time you ate something,” I asked as I crossed the room to join him. My stomach knotted.
A pained look crossed his face. I realized then he was having trouble standing. “Is Mrs. Finch here?”
I put my arm around his waist, steadying him, and led him to Mrs. Finch’s office. “Come on, Ian, why didn’t you say something? Just because things are complicated doesn’t mean no one cares about you,” I scolded.
Just as we reached Mrs. Finch, the fire alarm at the community center went off. We all stopped and counted: 1—2—3—4—5—6.
“Oh my god,” Mrs. Finch whispered.
My heart leapt into my throat. “Stay here,” I said as I lowered Ian into a chair. “I’ll bar the door on my way out.”
“Layla--” Ian began.
“We got it. Just stay here, and, for the love of god, let Mrs. Finch look you over. I’ll come back,” I said and tore down the hallway.
Frenchie and the girls stood, flabbergasted and afraid, in the middle of the gym. “Into Mrs. Finch’s office and stay put,” I told them but then paused. “Here,” I said, taking the Magnum from the holster and pressing it into Frenchie’s hands. “Aim for the head. Snap off the safety and fire,” I said, showing her the gun. She nodded wordlessly and rushed her girls down the hallway.
Outside, I slammed the gymnasium door shut and dropped a bar over it.
I jumped on my bike and gunned it. The edges of the road were still covered in mounds of melting snow. While early spring vegetation was popping up, the weather was still cold and unpredictable.
I saw Will running toward the fire hall; he was carrying a rifle in each hand. I slowed, and he slid on behind me. Anyone who was armed had come running.
Jensen was in the middle of the parking lot looking frantic. “West barricade,” he shouted at us. “There must be 50 of them!”
We set off at once. As we neared the west end of Main Street you could hear the sound of gunfire. The sight was horrifying. At least 50 undead were pressing against the street barricade. In some spots, they had nearly broken through. Some of the undead had started to trail down the barricade line, and soon they would find the weaknesses between the buildings.
Dusty and Fred were standing in the back of one pick-up. About five men stood in the back of another and were shooting into the oncoming horde.
“Holy shit,” Will exclaimed.
When we pulled up, Will jumped off and climbed into the back of one of the trucks. I set off on the dirt bike to get to the undead trailing down the barricade lines.
I recognized the undead form of Brian Hoolihan. His farm was just on the edge of town. He used to bring turnips to my grandmother. She would make soup out of them for him. He always liked my grandma; she was the only person he knew who like turnips or so he said. He lunged at the bike as I neared him. The barbed wire barricade kept us separated. With a heavy sigh, I shot him between his eyes.
Another undead, a fast moving young male, was nearing a weakness in the line where the barricade passed the charred structure of the flower shop. I was amazed at how quickly he moved. I spun the bike toward him, but it was slow in the soggy grass, grinding in the turf. I gave it some gas, and finally it lunged forward just as the young man bolted out of the ruins. He moved, quickly, directly at me.