red hill - jamie mcguire

see my daughters unbearable.
Another man, a head taller than everyone but Bryce, climbed from the backseat. He scanned the
house with wary eyes, making me feel on edge. He was different than the others. He moved
differently, and his eyes took in everything.
“Where’ve you been” Stanley said.
Miranda’s face turned instantly annoyed. “She made us wait at the corner by the water tower. I
finally got her to agree to let us leave at dark.”
Stanley’s head jerked to look at Ashley. “I told you I would meet you here,” he scolded. “It made
more sense for us to cut across. Why would you wait at the road Are you nuts”
More tears spilled down Ashley’s red cheeks.
Miranda raised an eyebrow. “That’s what I told her. We could have been here with Dad and not
listening to Zoe freak out for the last four hours!”
Nate hugged his daughter tighter.
The man with no name smirked. He towered over most of the others. Just the sight of him made my
fingers grasp my rifle tighter. His chest bulged from his white T-shirt, which was speckled with
blood. The red stains were spattered down his jeans, too, varying from specks to large splotches.
“Are you just getting here” He clearly wasn’t impressed with their time.
Stanley nodded to the top of the hill and the mess of bodies in the yard. “It’s not a straight shot, and
we had company. We ran into hills, and a creek. It was rough going. We tried leading the ones that
caught up to us away from the house, but then ran into more. And Nathan had to rest a few times.”
Oh. His name was Nathan. That fit him better, anyway.
“Where are you guys coming from” I asked.
Nathan paused from whispering things into his daughter’s ear. “Shallot. It’s about ten miles straight
across.”
I glanced around, grabbed the flashlight from Nathan, and jogged out to the fishing line. The
shufflers had pulled it loose and a few sections were lying on the ground. I pulled the line from the
some of the shufflers’ decaying ankles and then rewrapped it around the stakes, pulling them taut.
Pulling the downed shufflers into the field and burning them crossed my mind, but it was nearly
dark. Resigned to leave it until the next day, I joined the others inside the house.
Miranda met me at the door. “Where is my dad”
I glanced at Ashley. The sisters had already been through hell, and I hated to make it worse. I just
shook my head a little, unable to say the words.
Miranda lowered her chin. “What”
“When I got here, he was . . . Leah had . . . I buried them. By the tree.”
Miranda turned on her heels, ran through the living room and kitchen into the laundry room, and
pushed out the storm door. Bryce followed her. I walked over to the window and peered between the
wooden slats. Miranda fell on her knees and covered her face; Bryce began to touch her face, but then
acted like he couldn’t decide where to place his hand, finally settling on his neck. He paced back and
forth, offering words of comfort.
Ashley was sniffing and crying quietly, most likely already cried out for the day.