red hill - jamie mcguire

“Christ almighty, that’s Annabelle Stephens!” Eric said, rushing to her side. He looked up at us
after touching her neck. There wasn’t a spot on her from her chin down that wasn’t saturated in blood.
We heard a whimper from the corner, and Skeeter immediately trained his shotgun in that
direction. I grabbed the barrel and slowly pushed it down, seeing a little boy, alone and huddled into
a ball.
Skeeter lowered his weapon. “Hey there, little man.”
Gary let out a breath, glancing at Eric while he covered Annabelle’s face and chest with the only
thing he could find: a small rug. “That’s Craig and Amy Nicholson’s boy.”
Skeeter kneeled down, put his gun on the floor behind him, and held out his arms. “I went to school
with Amy. You must be Connor. C’mere, buddy. I know you’re scared, but you’re safe here.”
Connor shook his head quickly. He held his knees against his chest, and his chin was resting on his
knees as he rocked back and forth.
“Is Annabelle his aunt” I asked.
Skeeter shook his head. “Annabelle’s the first grade teacher at the elementary school.”
“She saved me,” Connor whispered, “from my mom.” His breath caught, and then he let out a sob.
Skeeter scooped him up into his arms. “Sssh, buddy. You’re safe now. You’re safe, I promise.”
Skeeter walked to the window, opened it further, and then stepped out onto the roof. I followed
him. From what I could see, the entire church was surrounded.
“A lot of them followed us here,” Connor said.
Skeeter nodded, noticing the drag marks along the roof and the windowsill, and the trail of blood
on the sidewalk leading up to the church. “Annabelle bled out. We’ll probably have them coming
from all over town.”
“At least we know they can’t climb,” I said, pointing to the group lifting their arms and scratching
at the church’s outside walls.
Connor sniffed. “Annabelle was already on the roof. She saw me running and climbed back
down.”
Skeeter gave Connor a squeeze. “She was a sweet lady.”
Connor peaked over Skeeter’s shoulder at the rug covering Annabelle, and then shut his eyes tight.
“We can’t stay here,” I said.
“We can’t leave. Give it a couple of days, Nate. They’ll move on.”
“What if they don’t We’ll be trapped here.”
Skeeter sighed, pulling the toothpick out of his mouth with his free hand and throwing it down to
the growing crowd of undead below. “I can’t move Jill.”
My eyebrows pushed together. “What if she gets worse What if she turns into one of those
things”
Skeeter looked down, and then back at me, resolute. “You should go. Get Zoe some place safe.
She shouldn’t be here when Jill . . . but, I can’t leave, brother. I wouldn’t have anything to live for,
anyway.”
My stomach dropped, and goose bumps formed on my arms. Skeeter was going to die in this
church, with his wife.