Free Red Hill by Jamie McGuire Page B

her clean a buck or a catfish with that porcelain skin and those long, delicate fingers had always been surreal to me. The fact that she could shoot a gun and bait a hook made her perfect for Skeeter, and he loved her as much as any man could love a woman. They’d been dating since high school, and neither seemed to mind that they’d never experienced anyone or anything else. Anywhere but Fairview, Jill would have never ended up with Skeeter, but here, in the middle of the middle, even with his blossoming beer gut and unkempt beard, Skeeter McGee only needed country-boy charm, working man’s muscles, and a decent job to score the magnificence that was Jill.
    Speaking of Skeeter . . . “Where is he?” I asked.
    Jill put her hand up to the side of her face. “He left about half an hour ago. He went down the street to Barb’s and Ms. Kay’s to see if they needed help. They’re getting old and their husbands have been gone for years. He shovels their driveways every winter, and fixes things when they need fixin’. He worries about them. With hell breaking loose outside, he wanted to try to bring them back here where he could take care of them.” Jill unconsciously reached for Zoe’s hand, the thought of the monsters outside reflecting in her eyes.
    â€œDid he take a gun?”
    Jill nodded. “His thirty aught six.”
    â€œHe’ll come back.”

Chapter Six
    Nathan
    BEFORE THE SICKNESS CAME , WAITING was an irritation. Now that the dead were walking amid the living, waiting felt like the violation of being robbed, the helplessness when you’ve lost something valuable like your keys or your wedding ring, and the unbearable dread that comes over you when your child falls just out of sight at the shopping mall, all rolled into one sickening ball of emotion.
    Jill paced in the kitchen, her fingers in her mouth while she chewed off every last bit of fingernail her teeth could find. I checked the windows and the front door, making sure everything was secure. Zoe sat in the doorway connecting the kitchen to the living room, quietly picking at the hem of her long-sleeved T-shirt.
    A familiar whistle sounded just outside the kitchen window, and then a shot rang out. Without looking, Jill scrambled to unlock the door, and Skeeter stumbled inside, out of breath and sweaty. He sat his rifle beside Jill’s while she locked the door, and then they hugged and kissed like they hadn’t seen each other in years.
    Jill whimpered, and Skeeter held her face in his hands. “Don’t cry, Jillybean. I told you I’d come back.” He kissed her forehead, and then held his arms out wide to Zoe, crouching as much as his six-foot-three frame and 220 pounds would allow.
    Zoe immediately popped up and ran to him, melting into his arms.
    â€œZoe!” he said, kissing the top of her head. “We’ve missed you!” He looked to me. “I think she’s grown a foot!”
    The conversation was typical, but typical conversation was unsettling during an apocalypse.
    â€œWhere’s Aubrey, trying to boot up the computer?” he asked.
    Jill looked to me, and I looked down at Zoe. “She wasn’t home when we got there. She left a note.”
    Skeeter’s expression was hard to decipher. I wasn’t sure if he was confused or just trying to process what that meant.
    Jill stood next to her husband. “Ms. Kay? Barb?”
    Skeeter offered a contrived smile. “I got them both to the church. I came back to get you. They’re boarding up the windows as we speak, and almost everyone brought supplies. Food and stuff. Guns. Ammo. It’s a good holdout.”
    â€œSkeeter,” I said. “It’s not a good idea to get all those people in one place. It’ll be like a buffet.”
    Skeeter’s face fell a bit. “There’s not that many people.” He grabbed his gun with one hand and wrapped the other around