Don't Whistle Past the Graveyard

Ch. Ninety-One

We moved slowly through the corn field, doing our dead-level best to avoid rustling the stalks too much. Both Shane and Kyle were bent slightly at the waist to make sure they stayed concealed. The sharp edges of the leaves scratched at the exposed skin of my arms and face, leaving bright red lines that were stung by the nervous sweat coating my body.

"Now I'm starting to think this was a bad idea," Shane whispered from my left, his words nearly lost in the rustling of the stalks.

I licked my chapped lips, looking up. All we could see was the upper half of the gym looming in front of us. They couldn't see us, but we couldn't see them either. The one advantage in this situation was only that we knew we were coming and they didn't.

We hoped.

"Well its not like we can turn back now," Lisa muttered, slithering her way between the stalks on the other side of Shane. Her rifle was still tucked into her shoulder, her eyes focused straight forward.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes like a five-year-old, wincing as another leaf slapped at my face, leaving a stinging line along my cheek. The pistol in my hand felt light, though I knew it was probably just all in my head. I wasn't sensitive enough to be able to tell the difference between a pistol with four rounds in it and one with nine.

My gaze drifted toward the gun in Shane's hand. I'd made him switch with me as we'd trudged through the field. He tried to argue, of course, but he couldn't deny that he was a far better shot than I was. Those bullets would be more use to him than to me. He caught my eye and managed a tight smile.

I couldn't find an answering smile. All I could manage to do was return his look for a moment before I turned my attention back to the school. We were close now. A few more minutes of creeping forward and we were peering at the back of the school through the last few stalks.

A wall of glass sparkled in the sun. A concrete pad that extended from the back of the school had been turned into a work and living area of sorts. Laundry flapped on clotheslines in a gentle breeze. Racks of fruit dried in the warm sun. Tables had been taken from the school and set up under a tarp. It looked like a pretty nice place to live, actually. Peaceful. Neat. It seemed completely at odds with the people who lived there.

"Where are they?" Kyle whispered, breaking me from my musings.

I blinked, refocusing myself. Looking beyond the peace and laundry, I found that the back of the school was completely empty. No one sat at the tables, there wasn't anyone near the clotheslines. A breathless sort of calm seemed to sit over the place. And I hated it.

"Check the windows," Shane said. Turning my head, I realized he was talking to Lisa.

"So you have wire cutters but not binoculars?" she asked, eyeing the many pockets of his cargo pants. Shane just sighed through his nose, squinting toward the school and waiting.

Lisa muttered under her breath, so low I couldn't hear what she said, but I was sure it wasn't anything very nice. That was fine. She could say whatever she wanted just as long as she did what needed to be done. I watched from the corner of my eye as she carefully lifted her rifle, looking through the sights.

Shane's fist rested on his knee, his knuckles white as he watched her scan the windows. "Careful," he whispered. "Careful."

"I know," Lisa hissed back. "I can see the edge of the field just as well as you can, Shane."

I bristled and opened my mouth, but Shane put a hand on my shoulder and shook his head. Apparently, he thought it wasn't worth the effort. Maybe he was right, but that didn't mean I had to like it.