red hill - jamie mcguire

“Miss Joy made breakfast.”
I led her up the stairs, unable to ignore the looks from Walter and Joy. I had become accustomed to
them. People who happened to be around during an episode were usually either annoyed or
sympathetic, with no in-between. A woman at the mall once approached Aubrey to advise us that Zoe
just needed a good spanking. It seemed like everyone who didn’t understand always knew how to
parent Zoe better than we did. Even if they didn’t say it, they let us know with their expressions. Zoe
never seemed to notice. I hoped she never would.
“Here you go, Zoe. I hope you like cinnamon rolls.”
“Oh, I do,” Zoe said, her eyes big and her smile wide. She followed the plate until it was in front
of her, and didn’t hesitate to pick one up with both hands and shove it into her mouth.
Joy smiled. “I didn’t figure she’d want a fork.”
“Nope,” I said. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Daddy Where’s Mommy” Zoe asked through a mouthful of bread.
“She’s uh . . .” I stuttered, looking to Joy. “She went on a trip.”
“Is she coming back How will she find us”
My mouth pulled to the side. “I don’t know, baby.”
Zoe looked down at her cinnamon roll, clearly trying to process the news.
A small dog began to yap. Just a few times at first, and then consistently. Joy smiled. “That’s
Princess. She belongs to the Carsons next door. I’ve been feeding her and letting her out in the
backyard. Would you like to help me feed Princess, Zoe”
Zoe nodded emphatically, shoving the rest of the cinnamon roll in her mouth as she pushed her
chair away from the table. The chair screeched against the floor as she did so, and I closed one eye
tight, recoiling from the noise.
Walter smiled. “This floor has survived three grandchildren, two of ’em boys. I think it can stand
up to Zoe.”
We spent the rest of the day talking and watching the road. After she and Zoe returned from feeding
Princess, Joy found a few board games and some cards, and played Go Fish with Zoe. It was quiet,
but once in a while, someone from Shallot would shuffle by, their eyes milky white, and always with
a wound. I wondered if people that had been bitten were slowly turning and making their way out to
the road.
Walter and I returned to the porch to sit in twin wooden rockers after the last dead person
wandered by. Joy brought us sandwiches and apple slices. I thanked her, wondering when my next
chance would come to ask her about what she didn’t say that morning.
“That was Jesse Biggins,” Walter said, biting off a piece of apple. He shook his head. “He’s a big
hunter. Has quite a few guns at his place. Maybe we should visit”
“Does he have any family”
Walter shook his head. “His wife died several years back. His kids moved to the city. It’d be a
worth a try.”
I nodded. “Maybe we should hit a couple of places for supplies”
“We just have the one general store. Not much a store, really, but it’s all we got. I don’t know who