“I think they are all waiting for something to happen so they can move on.
Something big. I don’t know what it is, but they’re trapped here until it gets done. ”
“I don’t know if it’s a consolation or not, thinking of our loved ones being ghosts as their dead bodies try to eat us,” Katie finally said. “But it makes me feel a little bit better than living in fear that our loved ones are trapped in those rotting things. ”
“I’m real sorry for y’all losing your loved ones. But y’all got a good thing going on here. And good things are rare in this world,” Rune decided.
There was an awkward silence as people pondered what had been said and slowly they began to talk amongst themselves. Maddie took Rune’s hand in her own and smiled at him softly.
“At least we know the zombies are stupid,” Jenni said at last. “Stupid is good, right?”
“And they are afraid of fire,” Charlotte added, as if the conversation had not taken a strange, metaphysical turn. “Another primitive fear of the reptilian brain. ”
Jenni thought about it and imagined bonfires all around the fort. It appealed to her.
Katie hesitated then, said, “So, we have a few. . . really weird new weapons. ”
Her voice didn’t sound shaky anymore.
“Uh-huh. ” Charlotte took another bite of her sandwich.
“Christmas lights,” the Reverend said, slowly smiling.
“Christmas lights,” Charlotte agreed.
Jenni grinned. “Damn. That’s just kinda funny. ”
Chapter 6
1. Jenni’s World
“And what do you do if you see a zombie?” Nerit asked in a loud voice.
“Poke it in the eye!”
The chorus of children’s voices made Jenni look over from where she helped lay cement blocks on top of the old wall. A group of twenty kids, all ages, had gathered around Nerit and a dummy made up to look like a zombie. The kids all held the fort’s makeshift spears.
“And then what do you do?”
“Shake it hard!”
“Why?”
“To make their brain soup!” some little wise-ass called out.
The kids broke up into wild peals of laughter.
Nerit smiled slightly, then ordered, “Okay, line up! Let’s make zombie brain soup!”
Jenni looked over at Juan. He was sweating hard, his long curly hair slipped free from his ponytail. Feeling her gaze, he looked up at her then over at the kids.
“They need to know how to fight back,” he said finally.
“Yeah,” she answered, looking back at the kids.
A young boy, about Mikey’s age, walked up to the zombie effigy and rammed the end of his spear into its cloth eye as hard as he could, then shook it hard.
Again, the children laughed.