Page 26 of Say You'll Stay

“You sure about this?”

He’s staring at a tiny Toyota sedan. It’s the kinda car he’d have been an ass about before the turn, but now it’s the best thing he’s ever seen, nestled in the garage like a protected pot of gold.

“We’re not using it, and the museum is too far to walk. So yeah. If you want it, then it’s yours. We owe you anyway for helping out before.” Andrew says, handing him the keys. “The alley out back isn’t blocked and you’ve got a clear shot for another mile. Not so sure after that. I put a few extra things in the trunk, too.”

Their destination is eight miles away, which may as well be eight light years for how difficult he fears it’ll be to reach if the roads get clogged up. This’ll cut down on a few miles and he’s not about to it turn down. He takes the keys with a grateful nod and pairs it with a handshake.

“Are you ready?” he says to Olivia, who’s got the baby in her arms and a bag of supplies on her shoulder.

“Yes.”

Her immediate agreement boosts his confidence in the plan.

They’ve got enough food to last a few days. Supplies forthe baby and for Olivia. They’ll be good for now, but he still wonders if he’s doing the right thing. He’d be out of here already if he was alone. No question. This facility isn’t a long-term solution.

He’s only hesitating now because he’s thinking of them and second-guessing himself. So, he forces that worry aside and gets in the car, trusting his gut, which hasn’t failed him yet. Olivia joins him in the passenger side with Lucy on her lap as daylight streams in through the newly opened garage door.

She’s trying to be brave, but he can see that flicker of doubt when she thinks he’s not looking as they slowly peel out onto the road. The way she grips Lucy snug and how wide her eyes have gotten have him wishing he could say something to distract her. Comfort her. He isn’t skilled at reassurance, though, and doesn’t try.

“Eight miles,” she says confidently. “That’s how far the Walmart used to be from my house. Easy drive. We can make it.”

“We got this. No big deal.”

They’re both bullshitting each other, but they go with it. No turning back. Fake it ‘til you make it is the motto of the day.

“This isn’t just on you. You know that, right? You’re not forcing me to do anything and if I didn’t agree it was a good plan, I wouldn’t have said yes to it. That’s at least one thing you shouldn’t worry about, okay?”

He hums a sound of agreement. “What makes you think I am?”

“You do a specific wince when you’re worried and there’s a definite scowl happening.”

Cole scowls harder. “I don’t do any of that.”

“Hmm. Okay. Sure.”

“I don’t,” he replies evenly, knowing full well she’s right because he can feel his face doing exactly what she described.

“The important point here is that whatever happens, it’s on both of us. Not you.”

That’s a hard thing to accept. Letting go of full responsibility won’t be easy, but he agrees with a grunt of approval, gesturing to Lucy, who’s sleeping even deeper than before. “Her first car ride.”

“Think she likes it. The vibrations are soothing. Babies fall asleep easily in cars.”

“I used to lie across the back when I was little and count the trees passing out the window.”

Olivia grins. “Me too.”

They make it one mile with little trouble. There’s a few people peering out from their windows and more than a couple of rotters on the streets, but overall, it’s manageable.

This is a quiet area. Residential. Most people either left before the virus got them or have barricaded themselves in their apartments and brownstones. It’s only when they reach the more commercial districts that the difference begins to warp into something out of a nightmare.

They’re in the middle of it before there’s any time to change course. The streets are littered with the dead, most of which are following the noise from their engine by now. They have to hop onto sidewalks and push trash cans and kiosks out of the way with their car to get anywhere at all.

Two blocks turn into four with every foot getting more crowded and he begins to worry they won’t make it much further.

Olivia stays silent but when he tells her to hold on tight, she grabs the‘oh shit’handle with one hand and the babyharder with the other and then they’re plowing through rotters like a bowling ball down an alley.

If he stops, he’ll lose momentum. They have to make it past this area or risk getting stuck in a pile of bodies. One squish after another they bump and roll over the dead, creating a splatter he clears with the wipers.

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