51

Stella

Once we were far enough away from town with the truck bouncing along dirt roads and trails no longer maintained for vehicles, the zombies had all but disappeared. From looking out the window, I had seen one or two stragglers hobbling through the trees and grassy patches, but they were mostly concentrated in the town.

It reminded me of a dead grasshopper I'd once seen in the grass. First one ant found it, and quickly he'd alerted his comrades with pheromones, and soon there were a dozen ants. Before too long there were a hundred or more, swarming the grasshopper to ensure that they would get every last bite.

Away from the smoke, the harvest moon shone brightly, full and orange shimmering above the treetops. It was enough that I could easily see inside the cab of the truck.

Lazlo slowed more now that the zombies were mostly behind us, and we didn't need to risk crashing into trees or wildlife. The ride was smoother and weirdly calming. All of the children fell asleep – Fae, Sage, the two boys in the front seat. Even the goat fell silent in the back.

I thought back to the zombie child I recognized from my nightmares, and how he had been in a jail cell when that Mercy woman called herself "mommy." And then I remembered that she had dropped the book that I picked up.

Carefully, as not to wake Fae, I slipped my hand into my bag and pulled out the book. It was bound in soft leather, with a title written in elegant pyrography. Chosen: A True Story of Mercy and the New Beginning After the End of the World .

I leaned toward the window, so the moonlight would illuminate the pages. The book itself was poorly formatted, despite the careful attention to the binding. It appeared to be written on an off-kilter typewriter, and the letter "r" would land slightly above the rest of the letters.

Even with that, it was easy enough to read, and I found myself quickly flipping through the pages as I learned of the disturbing and often perverse story of a deeply isolated and delusional woman.

It all sounded impossible, like ramblings of an unwell mind. Except that I had seen her unusual child with my own eyes.

And I had seen him, I realized, because he had summoned me. I didn't understand how fully. Maybe when my body warded off the lyssavirus, some part of me had already been irrevocably altered.

It was what Mercy had written about how zombies were nothing more than a hive that could be controlled by pheromones and a strong hand. It made me think of how I'd been drawn to the child, and the way my legs wanted to run with the rest of the horde. There was a hunger inside me that had never gone away, even after Jovie had started me on treatments for my postpartum issues.

Even now, when riding in this truck while I was scared and tired, my stomach was rumbling. Something inside me was always desperate to eat.

"The river is just up ahead," Nova announced, pulling me from my thoughts. She leaned forward between the front seats and pointed .

The S.S. Barbarabelle steamboat appeared to be anchored in the same spot in the Staulo River, just south of Grizzly Falls. There was no place to dock it, so we'd left it in the middle of the river, and we'd used a life raft to row to the land.

The raft was still there where we left it, overturned in the long grass near the banks of the river. Lazlo parked right in front of it, so we wouldn't have to walk far. The headlights of the truck shined on where we would launch the raft into the water.

As we unloaded everyone from the truck, I noticed that we seemed to have lost a couple people in the back. Blood was splattered along the dented sides, and hunks of zombie flesh and gooey bones were embedded in the grill and the tires.

They smelled of putrid decay, with a hint of smoke from the fires, but something acrid stung the inside of my nose. An astringent scent that I couldn't define, but I noticed it the very moment the truck door opened and the autumn air had filled my lungs.

It was musty, sharp, and in my mouth, it tasted like unripen bitter berries and spoiled meat. In my head, it was as if alarm bells were going off, and my heart raced in a panic. All through the truck ride, I had been relatively calm, but now I could hardly think of anything else beyond the words help and run .

"Stella, are you okay?" Serg asked. He was behind me, holding the goat's lead, and he put one hand on my shoulder. "Was the ride fine for you and Rafaella?"

"Yeah. Yes. You? Were you okay in the back?" I asked, glancing over at him. His shirt was covered in blood, both the thinner crimson of the uninfected and the thick greenish of the long infected.

"Yeah. I'm fine," he tried to assure me, and he forced a tight smile. There was a scratch on his cheeks, a red line cutting across his light brown skin. " The raft is in the water. You should hurry and get in."

It wasn't safe out here, even if most of the zombies were kilometers away at the top of the waterfall. There were always stragglers, and I wanted to find somewhere safe and lock the door with me and the baby on the inside.

The others were already loading up the life raft. Lazlo was kissing his family goodbye because he was driving back into Emberwood to get more survivors. Serg and Eden helped me, Rafaella, and Minnie into the boat. Alek sat near the bow with the oars, and rather quickly, everyone was on the boat except for Lazlo and Serg.

Lazlo stayed on the shore, backlit by the headlights as he watched us go. Serg pushed the back of the boat, sloshing out into the shallows of the cold water in his boots and jeans to give us a head start.

We hadn't gotten very far when Harlow shrieked Lazlo's name, and then I saw the zombies. They were shadowy silhouettes encroaching on Lazlo.

"Paddle as fast as you can!" Serg shouted before giving the boat one final push, and he turned and ran back to the shore. "Lazlo, get in the truck and go! I'll take care of the zombies!"

But I knew that wasn't true. The zombies were going to take care of Serg. There were too many, and he was one man.

He raced at the zombies, not even a weapon in his hand, and he punched the one closest to him. Then another jumped onto his back and started tearing into his throat.

" Stop !" I screamed because Serg deserved so much better than this.

And to my surprise – and my horror – all of the zombies stopped. They didn't freeze exactly, but they let go of Serg and straightened up so they were just standing there.

Serg fell to the ground, blood pouring from his throat. Lazlo had been watching, and he ran over and attacked the zombies with a crowbar. None of them moved or flinched, not even when he bashed their heads in.

"The zombies listened to me," I realized, and suddenly, I knew I couldn't go on the steamboat.

"How did you do that?" Nova asked me in a hushed voice.

The raft was rowing slowly out into the river, and Lazlo had just dispatched the final zombie. Nova was holding Sage behind me, and right next to her was Eden.

I turned to Eden, handing her Minnie's lead, my bag, and my sleeping daughter. "Please take care of her. Remy trusts you, so I will, too. I'll come back if I can."

"What are you talking about?" Eden asked in surprise and confusion.

Before anyone could stop me, I kissed Rafaella goodbye, and I jumped into the water. It was so cold, much colder than I would've guessed, and it sent shivers through me.

Nova and Eden called after me, but I didn't slow or look back. Max, Remy, Boden, and Ripley were still in town, and the zombies had listened to me. Maybe I could protect them or the other survivors left behind.

Lazlo was crouched down beside Serg, holding his hand as he stared up at the night sky and gasped his last breaths. I raced over to join them and tripped on the heavy, wet length of my dress, so then I crawled over to him.

"Serg, you didn't have to do that," I said, already crying as I took his hand. "You should've gotten on the boat."

"It was already too late for me," he said feebly. " Go save yourself. Live your life."

"I will," I promised him, and I kissed his forehead. "I love you, Serg."

He exhaled, and he was gone.