He turned around, noticed the plastic. His eyes widened and he took a step back.
I sighed. “I wish I didn’t have to do this, but it’s a necessary precaution until we have this whole zed virus figured out. If you turn, and I’m asleep, well, you see what I’m saying. We both know you’re bigger and probably stronger than me. If you fight, I won’t be able to get these on you. So I’m asking you…please let me tie your ankles and wrists. It’s only for tonight and it’s just a minor discomfort. Come morning, if you’re healthy, the ties will come off. Will you do that for me, Jase?”
After a moment, he nodded and then took small steps toward me. He gave me his back, and I strung the restraint around his wrists, careful to not make them too tight but making sure they would do the trick. I went to the bed and pulled back the blankets. Jase laid down in an almost robotic manner, and I pulled the strap around his ankles.
Stepping back, I tried to smile. “I know it’s not comfortable, but it’s only for one night. Try not to think about it.”
“It’s okay,” he said, rolling to his side. “I get it.”
I patted his back. “You’re a good kid, Jase.”
“I’m not a kid,” he muttered.
Sadness pricked at my heart. “No, you’re not.” Not after today.
I locked his door, and headed downstairs. I cleaned the mudroom and headed back inside, leaving the SUV and everything inside for tomorrow. At eleven, after a hot shower, I locked the door, figuring I’d hear Clutch drive in. I curled up on the sofa and passed out within seconds.
I was dreaming of cans rattling when something niggled at my subconscious, a warning percolating to the surface.
Cans rattling…
I shot awake.
The sound of tin banging against tin continued. I jumped up from the sofa and grabbed my belt with the .22 and knife strapped on and was ready to go. That the cans still rattled was an ominous sign that a shitload of zeds was passing through.
Once I pinpointed the direction the sound was coming from, I opened the window. From the outside, the window was completely covered by wood two-by-sixes, except for small sniper holes covered by plywood sliders.
With a clear night sky and a full moon, the yard was brighter than the living room, and I sighed in relief. Only one adult zed. It was hard to make out any more details in the dark at this distance. Sure enough, the dumb bastard had snagged the tripwire and was now dragging a line of cans as it lumbered across the yard.
I don’t know if zeds retained some hint of humanity and they sought out houses or if it was a predatory instinct. Whatever it was had the zed heading straight toward the house as it sniffed at the air. I scanned the yard for more, but saw no others.
I glanced at the .22 in my hand. My heart hammered a warning: don’t go out there.
I headed into Clutch’s gun room and used only a flashlight to not screw with my night vision. I shone the light over the guns, settling on a cluster of hunting-style rifles and shotguns that looked less complicated than the black military-style rifles. I grabbed the rifle in the middle that looked the most straightforward but also big enough to get the job done.
Holding the flashlight in my mouth, I checked the weapon, burning precious time since I really had no idea what I was doing. Once I verified that its magazine was loaded, I turned off the light and headed back to the window.
Careful to be silent, I slid the barrel through the sniper hole and took aim. The zed was less than a hundred feet away and lumbering through an open area, spotlighted by the moon.
I pulled the trigger.
Nothing. Not even a click.
Mentally cursing, I pulled the rifle back and looked at it. Stupid safety. I slid the black switch and aimed again. My first shot clipped the zed’s neck and nearly knocked it down, but it kept coming. The recoil kicked my collarbone, sending white pain shooting through my shoulder. It took me a moment to fix my aim.
“Cash?” Jase called out from upstairs.