Page 53 of Cora

“Fuck no. Put your seatbelt on.”

“What’s the urgency?”

“We’re getting out of town. The outbreak is getting too close to home.” I stopped at a light and turned to my brother. “I’m going to need your help keeping Mom and Melly safe, T.”

Trent nodded. “You can count on me.”

I knew I could. Trent might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but Trent was my best friend, and I knew he’d step up when I needed him to.

“Ok, Mom is already packing up her and Melly. Melly was home sick today, so she will probably be a little cranky. Please don’t antagonize her.” I pulled into the driveway and gave Trent a stern look.

“What?” he asked. “I don’t antagonize Mel,” he said innocently.

“I mean it, Trent. Not today. Let’s get inside, pack our stuff, and get out of here. Only pack the things you need!” I said, pointing my finger at him.

“Mom? We’re home,” Trent said as we entered the house.

I spotted two suitcases open on the couch. One was almost full of Melly’s things; the other was partially full of Mom’s,not as far along as I hoped, but not bad. “Mom, we have to get moving,” I yelled. Halfway down the basement steps to my room, I heard Trent make a broken, anguished sound. I didn’t know if it was a shout or a moan, but it sounded more animal than human, filling every bit of me with dread. I almost wanted to ignore it. To keep going to my room to pack a bag and delay the discovery of whatever made my brother sound like that, but I knew that I couldn’t.

I turned and ran to find him. I didn’t have to go far. He was standing in the doorway of Melly’s room. Tears were running down his face, and he was shaking his head back and forth. I pushed past him and froze. Bile rolled up and onto the carpet at the sight. Blood was everywhere, and Mom was on the floor, her body torn open by an animal. The animal was my sweet little sister, Melly, who was gorging herself on our Mother.

I don’t think it was a cold that sent her home.

Melly looked up at us, blood and guts dripping from her mouth and hands. She jumped up and sprinted toward us. Quickly, I grabbed the door and pulled it shut, pushing Trent out of the room as I did. There was a thud against the door as Melly hit it, followed by angry growls as she continuously slammed into the door.

“Trent, go pack a bag. We need to leave,” I ordered as I rushed back downstairs. We didn’t have time to grieve. We didn’t have a moment to comfort each other. I’d comfort him later when we were safely away from here. That had to be the priority. I packed as many of my clothes as I could into my suitcase, a family photo of us taken a couple of years ago. You could already see the cancer’s effect on Dad.

I filled a duffel bag with guns and ammo from the safe, as well as any and every knife or potential weapon I could find. I didn’t want us to be unable to protect ourselves, and I didn’t know how bad things would get. I went back upstairs, grabbeda cooler, and started throwing ice and food into it. We’d need to eat, and there was no guarantee we would always find an open place. As I was carrying a load of bags to the truck, I spotted Trent in the same spot I had left him, still staring at Melly’s door in horror.

“Trent!”

He jerked his head to look at me. Fuck. He was spiraling. I placed everything I held by the door and went to my brother. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tightly. “I know, Buddy, I fucking know. But we can’t stop yet. We have to keep pushing forward because we aren’t safe yet, and I won’t lose you too. Can you pack a bag of clothes for yourself while I pack up the truck? Please?” I felt him nod, and when I released him, his eyes became a little more alert as he rushed to his room.

Satisfied he was doing as I instructed, I packed up the truck. When Dad had gotten the truck, I teased him about getting one with a rolltop cover for the bed. That wasn’t a real truck in my eyes. Now, I was incredibly grateful we had it to keep our belongings dry and safe. The last things I grabbed were the three gas cans we kept in the garage. I’d fill those up when I stopped for gas on my way out of town in case we ran out of gas and couldn’t find somewhere to fill up.

“Trent! Let’s go,” I yelled, running back into the house. I spotted Mom’s purse on top of a fireproof box and grabbed both.

“I’m coming,” he said, rolling his suitcase behind him as he rushed down the hall. Melly slammed against the door as he passed her room. Wood cracking filled the house, and I met Trent’s eyes.

“Move it!”

Trent rushed out of the house, and as I was shutting the front door, I heard the door break open. Melly was free; let’s see herbust through this door. We jumped in the truck, and after a final look at our childhood home, we left in search of safety. I would do everything in my power to ensure Trent survived.

“Earth to Isaac,” Derek said, waving his hand in front of my face.

“Sorry,” I replied, shaking off the memories. “Got lost in thought. Let’s get these bodies out of the orchard, and then we can come back with baskets and pick every fucking piece of fruit here so that Cora doesn’t have any reason to come back out here.” Not that she’ll ever have the chance to again since I’m considering tying her to the bed every time we’re busy or leave the house.

When we returned to the house, I let the guys carry all the fruit inside while I returned to cutting firewood. I was still too angry with Cora to handle her with any levelheadedness, so I took my anger out on the dead trees. I continued to chop wood even when Trent called me in for dinner. I didn’t stop until my hands were too sore to continue, and my face hurt from the rapidly falling temperature.

When I walked inside, everyone was in the living room. Cora looked at me cautiously, waiting for me to see how we would act. Beneath her caution, I saw anger simmering. That was good because I still had some anger lingering in me. “Leave us,” I ordered. Smartly, the guys didn’t argue with my order, even with Cora giving them abandoned puppy dog eyes.

I went to the kitchen and reheated my dinner. Cora followed me into the kitchen and sat across from me as I ate. The silence stretched, but I stopped her when she reached for the iPad.

“No. I’m not ready to hear what you have to say yet.”

Cora glared at me, the anger starting to swirl in her eyes.

I would hear her out because she matters, but nothing was worth risking her or our child’s life. Period. End of story. Even if we didn’t have Queen gunning for us, it was still the apocalypse, and it was common courtesy to let us know if she was leaving the house.

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