Free The Seventh Day by Tara Brown writing as A.E. Watson Page A

“What?” The tone is a little mean—I can tell
by the way she winces. “There’s a noise.” She looks at the window as she says
it.
    I look up and see the sky is darker than it
was a minute ago. Did I sleep? No, I couldn’t have. Lissie ducks, even though
the curtains are all closed up, and walks to the window on the side of the
cabin. It faces a cabin next door. It’s through the woods a little. The lots up
here are huge in case people want to put in septic tanks.
    Joey and Julia are there in the window,
already on their knees and peeking through the bottom of the curtain. I rub my
eyes and drop to my knees. Joey looks back. “There’s a car next door.”
    My guts are burning the minute I hear that. People ransacking the cabins for food and supplies, no doubt.
    I lean into the curtain and look through
the small crack, whispering, “Damn!”
    “Are they bad people?”
    “I don't know.” I shake my head, squinting
to get a better view. I’m about to make us all go up to the loft when I see
something that instantly makes me feel better. “No.” I take a deep breath.
“It’s the Milsons who own the cabin.” I sigh again, leaning my head against the
window. “Oh my God. I was about to crap my pants.”
    The girls snicker. I look back at them.
“Laugh all you want. We don’t have a washing machine up here. You minions are
gonna be taking them to the creek to wash them.”
    Joey giggles harder. “You’re embarrassing.”
    I wink. “I’m gonna go say hello. You three
stay here and don’t let them in, no matter what. We don't know if they’re
sick.”
    “You should stay here too. We can yell out
the window.”
    I smile at Joey. “They drove here, Jo.
Those people back down the hill weren’t driving anywhere. The Milsons are fine—trust
me. But we have to be extra careful. If I see anything out of the ordinary I’m
coming right back.”
    Taking optimistic breaths, I turn and walk
to the door. I don't feel so scared opening it this time. Like the bad things
out there can’t hurt me with other people there. I know it’s stupid but I don't
want to be alone with three little girls.
    I look at Joey one last time before I walk
out into the cold air. “Secret knock only. Don't open it otherwise.”
    She looks worried. The problem with having
huge eyes is the emotions they betray. Hers nearly speak whole sentences.
    As I walk down the steps to the gravel road
we live on, I smile. I can hear them talking. Mrs. Milson, Betty, is shouting
at Mr. Milson about the crap he brought.
    When I get closer I can hear him defending
himself. “Darling, I panicked. You remember what happens when I panic. The
street was filled with the sick. I was scared I’d never see the house again.”
    I don't even realize my feet are crunching
on the gravel until she shouts at me, “STAY WHERE YOU ARE! WE’RE ARMED!” I
freeze when I hear her whisper, “Roger, get the gun from the dash.”
    I lift my hands, shouting at her as softly
as I can. “Mrs. Milson—it’s me, Lou. Lou Stoddard.”
    They don't speak, they run. I can hear the
gravel crunching. I almost pull my gun, but as they round the corner, I cry. I
don't even know why I’m crying. My mother doesn't even like them. We run to
each other with open arms but we all freeze before we get too close. It’s the
strangest thing, like my feet won’t go any closer and
theirs seem to be stuck as well. We don’t trust each other, not like we did
before everyone became a biter.
    Mr. Milson, a bald and chubby man with the
kindest blue eyes ever seen, gives me a twinkly-eyed smile. I can see the tears
in his eyes. “Where’s your family, Lou?”
    I nod back at the house, “Me and Joey and
some other little girls are waiting for Dad to get here. I don't know about
Mom.”
    Mrs. Milson sniffles. “How did this all
happen? What did your dad say?”
    I shake my head. “Nothing. He told me to
wait at the house for him, but things got bad, so I ran with the little girls
and left