Then I spot him. A little kid that can’t be more than five years old. Or so I’d guess, anyway. He’s tiny. Dressed in a coat that’s not fit for the weather and a pair of sneakers that must be soaked through. He’s shin deep in the snow since he’s so damn small.
And he’s alone.
Fuck.
I don’t know how to talk to kids. I’m too big. Too intimidating. They always wind up looking at me like I’m a giant who wants to eat them, and I’m too scared of forgetting my size and accidentally sending them flying with one pat of my hand to relax around them.
Not my kid. I reckon I’d be all right with them. Especially if they were half Silver.
Despite the insanity of this night, my mind flits back to her. Hoping wherever she is, she’s safe.
It’s been the same all night, my thoughts flashing back to her constantly, like I can barely keep her out of my head for more than a minute. I’m an addict and she’s my score.
It’s exhausting.
I’ve never cared so damn much about another person. With Ro and Fabian, they’re the closest thing I’ve got to family, but it’snot like I spend half my time worrying about wheretheyare or if they’re safe. I don’t wonder if they’re tired, or hungry, or happy.
“You got parents, kid?” I ask, crouching down so I don’t look so freakishly big.
I really hope his answer is yes. He’s not dressed for the weather, so maybe his parents are shitty. Or maybe they weren’t planning on heading out in this weather.
He steps close until he’s practically hugging my leg and I can feel him shivering.
“You’re freezing. Want me to carry you for a bit?” I ask.
I rarely go around picking up stranger’s kids, but this whole situation is nuts, and he’s shaking like a leaf. As soon as he nods, I scoop him into my arm and balance his little butt on my forearm. He weighs about as much as my gym bag.
I then set about finding him something warmer to wear. A coat. A blanket. Anything. If I focus on the problems right in front of me, I’m less likely to lose my mind tonight.
The cars closest to me are all abandoned and unlocked, so I root around inside until I find something we can use. There’s a tatty tartan blanket on the back seat which I filch and wrap around the kid’s shoulders.
“So... parents?” I ask him.
Maybe this is how Silver winds up picking up new members of her family. She just wanders around and people flock to her like she’s the damn Pied Piper of misfits and weirdos.
There I go, thinking about her again. I don’t think I even managed two minutes that time. It’s like she’s infected my brain with a virus that’s made me obsessed with her. I keep replaying the way her face looks when she smiles, or when she’s mad and her brow furrows, but she gets this cute dimple on her chin that makes her way less intimidating than she’d like.
All I want to do right now is call her. Check in, so I can see her damn pretty face and confirm she’s all in one piece.
I can’t think about the alternative. It sends my heart racing and a rumble of thunder rolling through the air, whenever I consider the possibility that she’s not all right.
“My mom told me to hide behind a dumpster until the monsters were gone,” the kid says.
Not a bad idea. Not the best either, considering we found the first zombie hanging around by some dumpsters down an alley.
The kid got lucky.
“What’s your name, kid?” I ask.
“Art.”
“I’m Zeph.” I nod at him and continue to stride along, readjusting the blanket every few steps, seeing as he can’t seem to keep too good a hold on it. His little fingers are probably fucking freezing, but at least I’m pumping off enough body heat for the two of us.
“You keep your eyes peeled for your mom,” I tell him.
There are plenty of people milling around, looking dazed and confused, and I hope like hell we find the kid’s mom soon. Everyone looks kind of dirty, tear-stained. Some are covered in blood.
I have to keep shifting around to avoid giving the kid an eyeful of the worst of it. The piles of bloodied bodies and the random limbs strewn about. Finally, I hear sirens in the distance and see the flashing lights of the latest set of emergency responders. They’re an hour too late for some people, but at least they’re here.
