Page 10 of Such a Feral Little Lamb
“Stay alert,” I say and take the steps down back into the churchyard. “With everyone.”
“You too.”
I circle the graveyard again and stop to study more of them. Most are old—a century or more—but I fix my attention on those that were marked twenty or thirty years ago. By the time Dane and the others exit the church, I’ve stopped at the same grave as before and am trying to make out the full dates.
“Something interesting?” Dane asks, coming up behind me.
When I glance back, his expression is speculative. I don’t like it.
“Just trying to do some maths,” I reply with a little shrug. “Must’ve buried whoever this was not long before the outbreak.”
Dane leans past me, taking in the gravestone himself. His gaze lingers on the name, but he says nothing when he stands straight again. “Must have,” he agrees. “I bet they were the last person buried up here.”
I survey the mess. I could ask him if he knows something. If he’s working something out. He’s experienced, might have seen something like this before.
“Come on,” Blake calls from the path. His boots have stopped right at the edge of the grass as though he doesn’t want to walk on it. “We’re going to lose light.”
Dane’s arm brushes mine as he passes me. I clench my teeth before I follow. As we begin our descent down the hill, I fall back, casting a final look back up at the church once we’re halfway there.
The grey clouds are growing darker as the sun begins to set. Standing inside, I thought it might be a sanctuary.
Now it looks menacing. It looms over us like there’s power in the building itself, and my throat gets tight.
I swallow and don’t look back again.
Back at the butcher’s, we don’t really talk. Everyone busies themselves getting ready for the night. Zombies can attack at any time, but they seem to be more active when it’s dark, and obviously we’re at much more of a disadvantage when it’s difficult to see.
The flat above the shop is a one-bedroom, though none of us is eager to take the bed. We push the dusty sofa back against the wall and everyone sets up in the living room. I lay my sleeping bag out right under the dormer window. From here, I can see the roofs of nearby houses and the church above. There’s a crack down the centre of the window, but the glass still holds.
I’m not terribly worried about that. Zombies can use the stairs, but the door to the shop is reinforced, as is the one to this flat. They’re not going to be scaling the front of the building.
Dane and Blake take up space by the front door. Autumn and Rae are over by the bedroom, but not in it. Otto lays his out inthe centre of the room, unafraid to take up space, and I shake my head and hide a smile.
“It’ll be dark in half an hour,” Dane says as we eat.
Autumn pulls a face at the first mouthful of her rations but chokes it down all the same.
“Who’s taking first watch?” he asks.
Rae eyes Autumn with concern. She was twitchy on the train, and now all the excitement and terror of being outside the Citadel are catching up with her. I’m not surprised. We might not have hunted today, but this is her first trip out.
“I’ll do it,” I say.
“And me,” Otto adds. He’s already finished and is lying on his back on his sleeping bag, legs stretched out, crossed at the ankle. His eyes are closed like he’s halfway to falling asleep himself, but I know how quickly he can be up and alert should he need to.
“I’ll watch with you two, then,” Dane says.
Blake’s head jerks around to look at him. “What?”
My expression has to be an echo of Blake’s disbelieving tone, but Dane only shrugs. “There’s something off about this place, and it’s our first night. The more manpower, the better.”
Makes little difference to me, aside from the fact I’m not keen on being on watch with Dane for about six hours. Does mean we’ll get more uninterrupted rest, though, with fewer watch changes, and I’m not about to turn that down.
“Fine,” I say.
Otto nods.
Night has already crept in, so Rae, Autumn, and Blake bed down after that. I follow Otto and Dane down into the shop, leaving the door to the flat open behind us. There are deadbolts on the inside of the shop door, so we throw those instead of locking ourselves in—always better to be able to make a quick escape.
