Free Hell's Children: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller by John L. Monk Page B

she stopped him.
    “Sorry,” she said. “It’s just … my parents. They looked that way. Mom … she was so thin when she died. I carried her down three flights by myself. We buried her first. The hole wasn’t deep enough for the … to stop the dogs from …” She turned around and shook in a series of short, wracking sobs.
    “Let’s go outside,” he said.
    She nodded and followed him out.
    “Sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I haven’t cried this much in years.”
    “I tried crying, once,” Jack said. “Just to see what it was like.”
    She glanced at him, smiled a little, and slid down into a seated position against the wall. “We can’t leave her in there.”
    “I’d ask her to join us,” he said, “but she won’t leave her dad. Not until he’s gone. The way he looked, it can’t be that long. She’d be a good addition to the group.” He looked back inside. “I mean, for her age. No idea how her head’s doing.”
    Lisa nodded.
    They waited like that for a while, not talking. The girl didn’t show up, and the door was still open.
    “Lisa,” he said at one point, choosing his words carefully. “When you said eight kids attacked you guys and only six left … did you mean that the way it sounded?”
    She nodded.
    “Can I ask who did it?”
    “Me,” she said in a light voice. “Greg took the bodies in my dad’s car and put them in the dumpster.”
    Jack nodded thoughtfully. There was probably no delicate way to ask her to kill the man in apartment. And what kind of coward was he, that he couldn’t do it himself?
    Lisa snorted and glanced at him in disgust. “I’m not going to euthanize that man, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
    He shook his head. “Totally not thinking that.”
    A few minutes later, he got up and walked back inside. He found the girl lying on the ground next to the bed, staring off into space. Her father, unfortunately, was still breathing. It couldn’t be much longer.
    “Hey, you—kid,” Jack said. “We have a group, but we need more people. Your dad, though … He’s not going to make it, and I’m sorry about that. None of the adults do. I don’t think he has much longer.”
    The girl didn’t reply.
    He tried again. “We’re a good group. Nice folks. We need more help. If you want to come, there’s a spot for you.”
    He hated how lame he sounded. Insensitive. Lisa would have done a better job.
    The girl hadn’t been crying when they’d first walked in. Now her cheeks gleamed wetly in the flickering candlelight.
    “So, if you’re interested,” he said. “You know, after … We’re down at the Rolling Meadows Welcome Center. There’s heat, food, and other people for protection. We’re leaving for a better place soon, so you need to hurry. Two days, tops, and then we’re gone. Okay? Can you nod if you understand?”
    A minute later, when she didn’t nod or get up, Jack stepped quietly from the room. Then he and Lisa left.

10
    T hey returned to Rolling Meadows by cutting through a duplex community. Jack had lost the heart to continue their search after seeing the girl and her doomed father, and Lisa clearly felt the same.
    When they turned the corner at the end of the long block of garden-style apartments, they saw a group of about ten people in front of the Welcome Center. Boys and girls, and no little kids. For a moment, he thought maybe Tony and Greg had wildly succeeded in bringing in more people. But then he saw some of them had pistols clenched carelessly in their hands. And though none of them was tall with red hair, he knew what he was looking at.
    “Do you see Greg?” Lisa said, squinting against the afternoon sun.
    Jack said, “Nope. Nobody else, either. Maybe they’re still out recruiting.”
    “I hope so. What do we do?”
    “Oh, I’m in charge now?” Jack said, more from a sense of nervousness than a desire to be funny.
    Lisa smiled tightly. “We have the drop on them. How many rounds does that rifle