Half of the man’s face was missing, with one eye no longer in its socket. It just dangled there, and the god-awful smell seeping through the crack made my throat close up. “Jesus Christ,” I said. “I never even thought about the stench.”
For the first time since I’d known him, Tim was speechless.
A milky film covered the man’s good eye, and his hands slapped the glass, fingers curling as if he—it—wanted to grab our faces.
Willow didn’t move, not even a backward step, the determined set of her chin a stark contrast to the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
“You don’t need to be here, honey.” Laura’s voice quivered, then she cleared her throat and injected more confidence into her words. “Go upstairs. We’ll take care of this.”
“I’m okay.” She wastwelve, but she stood her ground like a soldier refusing to break rank.
The man’s mouth mashed into the door, teeth grinding against the glass.
Sadie gagged and pressed her face into the back of my shoulder to block the smell. Any other time, I would have let myself appreciate her closeness, her softness. But not now.
Owen returned to the scene first, juggling an armful of tools as he ducked in between Laura and Willow. “Whoa. It’s just… there.” He puffed and stared at the thing in awe. “Decomposing right in front of us.”
“Still human enough to have some strength left.” I rattled the handle, praying like hell it would hold. “Can’t see it backing off unless something outside grabs its attention.”
Ellie joined her family and made an exaggerated choking sound when the smell of rotting carcass hit. “Oh my God. Look at it. Is this even real?”
“Don’t breathe too deep,” Laura said.
Varesh sidled in next to Tim and handed over a prospecting hammer, keeping the Bowie knife for himself. He didn’t say a word. Just searched our faces for confirmation we were seeing it, too.
Pissed at the glass barrier, the infected man pulled back and smashed his forehead into the door, shaking the frame on its hinges.
I flinched and stared into his eyes, seeing nothing but a single-minded goal. There’d be no reasoning with these things. No option but to fight, run, or hide.
Ellie gasped, and Tim tripped over his own feet.
The man repeated the motion hard enough to cave in his damaged eye socket, smearing the glass until patches of it had been made opaque.
Sadie made a squeaking sound but stayed close, her arm brushing mine, her eyes on the broken face in front of her.
“This is horrifying,” Varesh said.
No cracks had formed in the glass, but it wouldn’t be long.
Owen moved among us, distributing the armload of weapons and tools, passing the long-handled hammer to me. “Better take it down now before it breaks the door,” he said. “If it gets in here, we’ve lost our one refuge.”
“Agreed.” Laura gripped the maul Owen had handed her and stared at the dead thing, tucking her hair behind her ear with a jerky movement.
Tim tested the weight of the prospecting hammer, stepping away from the others to do a practice swing. The thought of driving that sharpened tip into the skull of a man who appeared mostly human made me sick to my stomach.
“You think you can do it?” I asked. “I mean,reallydo it.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged and swung again, sending a sidelong glance at the infected man. “If I hesitate, I’ll be as dead as him, so it should be a good motivator.”
“They’re slow,” Laura said, “and uncoordinated. Plus, there’s only one of them out there.”
“Don’t forget the one who screamed.” Sadie stepped away from me and checked the street behind the infected man.“There’s no movement back there anymore,” she said, “and we all know what happens next.”
How long would the transformation take? Minutes? Hours?
The dead man stared at Willow and took another run at head-butting the glass, but she stood her ground, braver with a barrier between her and danger.
Ellie clasped her hoodie and eased her back from the door. “Stay away from it,” she said. “You’re being weird. It’s like you’re playing chicken, but you’re just making it crazier.”
