Bite

Free Sunglasses and No Foster Homes

The car was hot. We all fanned ourselves with our hands, letting out exasperated sighs once in a while. Pedro cracked the window open, but after driving through a particularly bad end of town where the air was fraught with the smell of blood and the sounds of growling, he rolled it back up, and no one protested.

I wanted to, though. The others may have been able to handle it gracefully, but I was sweating obnoxiously. Being crammed in a pick-up with that many people in a hot cab, I felt perspiration drip down my forehead and gather beneath my shirt. I felt a little carsick, and finally ventured to ask, "Rayford. Feel free to shoot me because of this question—but seriously—are we almost there yet?"

Rayford actually laughed. "Yeah, Rachel. We're almost there. Three blocks."

"Good," I said, relieved. "I feel carsick."

Everyone glanced at me.

"I'm not going to throw up," I laughed, "It's just a headache."

Dave chimed in. "I have a headache, too."

Wayne sighed. "Me too."

Hailey rolled her eyes. "Is this a club now?"

"You guys need to keep up on your water," Rayford said sternly. "Stay hydrated."

"Right, dad," Hailey snapped.

"I understand you've had a difficult day," Rayford said quietly, "But let's skip the sarcasm and make this pleasant for everyone, okay?"

"Whatever," Hailey sighed.

Ungrateful thing, I thought angrily. Rayford could have left her on the sidewalk. Should of let the zombies get you.

"Who did you lose?" Dave asked outright. Wayne elbowed him, but he persisted. "What? I'm just asking!"

"Foster parents," Hailey said with a deep, bitter tone. "I'm not sad about it."

"This is convenient for you, isn't it?" I snapped. "The whole apocalypse. Free sunglasses and no foster homes."

"You know, if my sister and I talked to each other that way, my parents would have taken us out and smacked us," Helen said warningly.

"Only a smack? I would have gotten a belt," Rayford laughed, trying to ease the tension.

"At least your mom didn't shoot herself because she found raising a child too stressful," Pedro said sullenly.

Everyone stopped talking, save innocent Dave.

"Was that because she turned into a zombie?" he asked.

"In a manner of speaking," Pedro said shortly.

"When was this?" Rayford asked kindly.

"1995."

Dave tugged Wayne's sleeve and whispered confusedly, "But that's before the zombie apocalypse..."

Then a true silence reigned. I still felt like giving Hailey a smack and hoped maturity would be transferred to her in some way. With everyone's backstory fairly known, despite Helen not uttering much about whom she lost, there was a companionship to the silence in the stuffy cab.