parents?”
“Strange question.”
“The three of us had foster parents. I heard a girl on the radio today say she too had foster parents,” I said.
“No, I live with—or lived with—my Dad.” He stops to clear his throat. “My mother died seven years ago. It’s been me and Dad ever since.”
“Where did your mother work?” Maria asks.
“For a delivery service. She wore a uniform. The company isn’t around anymore. New England Delivery… Yeah, NED was the name.”
“Curious,” Maria remarks. “My parents and Lea’s died about seven years ago in the same fire at the lab in which they worked.”
“My mom was hit by a drunk driver. My parents were divorced, and Dad was in the military. He retired to take care of me,” Rudy says.
Guille stands up. “So what about our parents? Why does it matter they died seven years ago? Nothing’s gonna bring them back. Nothing’s gonna change what’s going on out there.” Tears run down his face. The poor kid hasn’t had a chance to morn his loss. None of us has.
I stand and clean up the mess we made, attempting to change the subject. “Come on. Let’s put this stuff away.”
“You’re right, kid. This really sucks,” Rudy replies. “We can’t change a damn thing, but we don’t have to give in to it. We’re gonna fight this crap and we’re going to survive.”
Maria just sits, deep in thought. Analyzing the new information she has.
“So where do we sleep, Rudy?” I ask.
“Right here on the floor. It’s the safest place.”
“But there are beds right through these doors.” I sound whinier than I mean to.
“The family got sick in them before they went all undead. If you want to lie in their mess, then be my guest,” Rudy states.
“Good point. I was just concerned for the kids.” My bruised butt will have to suffer on the hardwoods.
“We’ll be fine. We used to go camping all the time,” Guille declares.
Bruno stands up quickly, tilting his head side to side a few times, then starts to growl.
“Stay here.” Rudy stands and slides out his sword. He rushes down the stairs with Bruno following on his heels.
Chapter Twelve
Rudy’s downstairs for what seems an eternity, but according to Maria, it’s only a few minutes. It’s quiet and I can’t understand what the deal is. I give it a few more second and get up.
“What are you doing?” Maria asks.
“I’m going downstairs.”
“You sure you should? Rudy said—”
“I know what Rudy said. I’m just gonna check on him.” I proceed down the stairs slowly, stretching my neck to try and look into the living room as I descend. My mind begins to race with ‘what-if’ questions. Mostly like: what if Rudy’s dead and it’s up to me to protect Maria and Guille?
Answer to that: they’re screwed. I really don’t think Rudy’s dead. It’s too quiet and I’m sure if there were a fight, we’d have heard something.
When the room is in view, I see it’s empty. No sign of Rudy or Bruno. When I get to the landing, I see Rudy against the wall, squatting and holding Bruno with one hand, the other over his snout. He sees me and makes a shhh motion with his mouth.
I creep beside him, kneel, then whisper, “Zombie?”
“No, rodeo clowns.”
“What?”
“Yes, zombies. I think it’s gone. It was right outside the big window there. Must’ve wandered into the yard.”
We stay put for a little bit more, and Rudy puts Bruno down. “I think it’s clear.”
Bruno runs to the couch, jumps on it, and barks.
In an instant, the picture window shatters with a heart-stopping smash. A zombie leans in and reaches for me.
I jump back and whack my head on the wall behind me.
Rudy, in a single motion, leaps toward it and plants his sword into the thing’s head. It’s as if he’d practiced this sort of thing regularly, like it was choreographed.
“Yeah,” Rudy said, “this dog is awesome. These freaks won’t be able to sneak up on us with Bruno.” He pulls the sword from
“Strange question.”
“The three of us had foster parents. I heard a girl on the radio today say she too had foster parents,” I said.
“No, I live with—or lived with—my Dad.” He stops to clear his throat. “My mother died seven years ago. It’s been me and Dad ever since.”
“Where did your mother work?” Maria asks.
“For a delivery service. She wore a uniform. The company isn’t around anymore. New England Delivery… Yeah, NED was the name.”
“Curious,” Maria remarks. “My parents and Lea’s died about seven years ago in the same fire at the lab in which they worked.”
“My mom was hit by a drunk driver. My parents were divorced, and Dad was in the military. He retired to take care of me,” Rudy says.
Guille stands up. “So what about our parents? Why does it matter they died seven years ago? Nothing’s gonna bring them back. Nothing’s gonna change what’s going on out there.” Tears run down his face. The poor kid hasn’t had a chance to morn his loss. None of us has.
I stand and clean up the mess we made, attempting to change the subject. “Come on. Let’s put this stuff away.”
“You’re right, kid. This really sucks,” Rudy replies. “We can’t change a damn thing, but we don’t have to give in to it. We’re gonna fight this crap and we’re going to survive.”
Maria just sits, deep in thought. Analyzing the new information she has.
“So where do we sleep, Rudy?” I ask.
“Right here on the floor. It’s the safest place.”
“But there are beds right through these doors.” I sound whinier than I mean to.
“The family got sick in them before they went all undead. If you want to lie in their mess, then be my guest,” Rudy states.
“Good point. I was just concerned for the kids.” My bruised butt will have to suffer on the hardwoods.
“We’ll be fine. We used to go camping all the time,” Guille declares.
Bruno stands up quickly, tilting his head side to side a few times, then starts to growl.
“Stay here.” Rudy stands and slides out his sword. He rushes down the stairs with Bruno following on his heels.
Chapter Twelve
Rudy’s downstairs for what seems an eternity, but according to Maria, it’s only a few minutes. It’s quiet and I can’t understand what the deal is. I give it a few more second and get up.
“What are you doing?” Maria asks.
“I’m going downstairs.”
“You sure you should? Rudy said—”
“I know what Rudy said. I’m just gonna check on him.” I proceed down the stairs slowly, stretching my neck to try and look into the living room as I descend. My mind begins to race with ‘what-if’ questions. Mostly like: what if Rudy’s dead and it’s up to me to protect Maria and Guille?
Answer to that: they’re screwed. I really don’t think Rudy’s dead. It’s too quiet and I’m sure if there were a fight, we’d have heard something.
When the room is in view, I see it’s empty. No sign of Rudy or Bruno. When I get to the landing, I see Rudy against the wall, squatting and holding Bruno with one hand, the other over his snout. He sees me and makes a shhh motion with his mouth.
I creep beside him, kneel, then whisper, “Zombie?”
“No, rodeo clowns.”
“What?”
“Yes, zombies. I think it’s gone. It was right outside the big window there. Must’ve wandered into the yard.”
We stay put for a little bit more, and Rudy puts Bruno down. “I think it’s clear.”
Bruno runs to the couch, jumps on it, and barks.
In an instant, the picture window shatters with a heart-stopping smash. A zombie leans in and reaches for me.
I jump back and whack my head on the wall behind me.
Rudy, in a single motion, leaps toward it and plants his sword into the thing’s head. It’s as if he’d practiced this sort of thing regularly, like it was choreographed.
“Yeah,” Rudy said, “this dog is awesome. These freaks won’t be able to sneak up on us with Bruno.” He pulls the sword from
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