49

Remy

Getting back to the garage hadn't exactly been easier, but Ripley helped clear a path and keep the zombies at bay. When we reached the convenience store, we had to ditch the bike before climbing up the pallets leaning against it, and the lion did an excellent job of creating a distraction. Too good, actually.

The horde was more concentrated than Ripley was used to, and she was quickly overwhelmed. Max reached the roof first, and he pulled out his crossbow. With a few well-placed shots, he managed to create enough of an opening that Ripley could break free, and she immediately scaled the wall to reach us.

"You okay, girl?" I asked her. Her ear was torn, and I could see a few patches of fresh blood on her fur where they had managed to tear into her.

But she didn't seem bothered. She was a big, tough cat, and she rubbed up against me, making sure that I was okay, too.

Max, Ripley, and I crossed the board-bridge over the zombies, and we went back into the second story of the garage where an entirely different type of chaos was unfolding.

There were so many more people than there had been when we had left, and they were all arguing about how we'd leave. I was too tired to argue about it anymore, and Boden helped remove the goat from my back. The rope had dug painfully into my shoulders, and they burned.

It wasn't until Max volunteered to stay back that I started to pay attention.

"Max, don't be ridiculous. You need to go with Stella and the baby," I said.

"No, Samara was right. Someone will stay back because the goat is going," Max reasoned. "Since I'm the one asking for the sacrifice, I should be the one to make it."

"It's not for you, though. It's so the baby won't die," I insisted.

"He's only doing what's fair, and I don't know why you're even trying to talk him out of it," Samara interjected. "Let someone do the right thing for once."

"And I'll be with you, Boden, and Ripley," Max added. "We'll be fine."

"We will all be fine," Boden agreed. "But everyone who is staying back needs to be in the loft and ready to fight, because we're completely surrounded by zombies now.

Max still had the crossbow, so after he said goodbye to Stella and the baby, he went up to the window in the loft where he could take aim at the zombies. The door to the garage would have to be closed manually, and since I was immune, I took the position on the ground, doing just that. The wolves stayed down with me, but everyone else, even Ripley, was up in the loft.

Lazlo was driving the truck, and he looked to me and nodded. That was my cue to raise the garage door. As soon as it went up, the zombies started slipping in around the vehicles. Max was shooting the crossbow at the ones closest to getting in, and then Lazlo floored the truck. It plowed through the zombies and out into the town. The two ATVs zipped out behind in the truck's wake, and the zombies rushed inside the garage .

I scrambled to close the door as quickly as possible, and Boden leapt down from the loft, swinging his machete. The wolves immediately started attacking the zombies, and I called for Ripley. I had my sledgehammer, and in short order, we managed to put down all the zombies that had made it in.

I went back up to the loft, and I joined Max in the window. Together, we watched as the truck disappeared into the smoke and zombies.

"They will be safe," I said, but even I knew that I was only saying it because I wanted it to be true, not because I actually believed it to be true.

"How long do you think it will be before Lazlo comes back for the rest of us?" Max asked.

"It depends on a lot of things," I supposed. "Maybe a half hour. Maybe longer."

"It'll be weird to be on the boat again," Max said. "But it'll be nice."

We stood side-by-side, both of us staring out into the brutal nightmarescape the town had become. The air smelled of a bonfire, roasting flesh, and so much blood, it tasted like metal when I breathed in. I wanted to reach out to my brother, to comfort him, but my hands were sticky with zombie blood, and I didn't know what more to say.

I turned to check on Ripley, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Samara racing across the loft toward the window. I whirled back, expecting to see a zombie coming in, but instead I saw her pushing someone out .

Max had been looking outside, and Samara's hand slammed into his back. I didn't even have time to yell his name before she shoved my little brother out the window.

I moved as fast as I could, but it felt like I was in quicksand with one arm outstretched before me. He was just out of my grasp. The rough fabric of his jeans skimmed my fingertips as he fell headfirst out the window.

He hit the ground hard enough that even up here, I heard the crack of his skull against gravel.

I almost leapt out the window after him. I meant to, but Boden's arms caught me around the waist, holding me back before I could.

I was screaming Max's name, as if he could hear, as if he could get up. He was on the ground, unmoving, as the horde of zombies descended on him. They tore at his clothes first, and then his flesh.

Over all the groans and growls of the zombies, I could hear the squelching sound of their hands tearing into his abdomen, and the grisly crunch as they tore off his arm.

Boden tried to pull me away, so I couldn't see the zombies dismember Max, but I gripped onto the windowsill. I refused to look away from him. He was mine , the thing I loved the most in the world, more than the baby or Boden or myself.

I was there the day he came into the world. I was the first person after my parents to hold him, and I had loved him then and every day since. I had born witness to his birth, and I would bear witness to his death.

It took too long, and it was over too quickly, because then he was gone, gone, gone … Just bones and blood and tatters of muscle and hair. And the zombies that devoured him went back to clawing at the walls because they were still so very hungry.

By then, I wasn't screaming Max's name anymore. I wasn't screaming any kind of word. It was a visceral, primal sound made of rage and pain that consumed me.

I only stopped because my voice gave out. It cracked and broke, and my throat burned like I had scraped off a layer of skin. I gasped for breath because my lungs demanded it, and my face was slick with tears.

"Remy?" Boden said quietly, and his arm was still around me. He was afraid that I would jump out the window after Max, and he was right to have that fear.

"It's not so great when someone else gets to decide if your loved ones should die," Samara said, and just the sound of her voice filled me with a blind rage.

I was so angry, it was vibrating all through me, and I could hardly think straight.

"You killed my dad, and you killed Castor's sister," Samara was explaining as if I gave a single fuck about any thought or opinion inside her vapid head.

She was nothing except the object of my all-consuming rage.

I let go of the windowsill, and I feigned relaxing into Boden's arms so he would let go of me. It worked, but I was not relaxed. I was coiled so tight, and I needed to find the right moment to strike.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" someone shouted at Samara.

"You don't understand what she's like!" Samara insisted, her voice tilting toward frenetic. "She is a remorseless killer!"

"So you killed her brother without remorse?" Boden asked her in disgust. "Your father was a very good man. He would be so sickened by you, Samara."

"Max wasn't –" Samara began, but I didn't let her finish. I couldn't stand to hear his name in her voice.

I grabbed my sledgehammer, and I slammed it into her head with all my might. I only got one strike before Castor grabbed me, trying to stop me, but Boden intervened and pulled him off me.

With the amount of blood already pooling underneath Samara's head, and as hard as I had hit, she was probably already dead. But I'd like to think that some consciousness was still there, some pain synapses still firing inside her brain, so that she felt every single blow as I pummeled her head into absolute mush with the sledgehammer.