“I’m so hungry, Millie. Can you die from not eating? My belly hurts.” The questions kept coming, most I had no answer to. “Are we going to die? Are we?”
“No. We’re not going to die,” I whispered. “Momma will come.”
“No she won’t,” said Evie. “She’s too busy with Frank to notice.”
“That’s not…” I was going to say true but stopped myself. “Momma just—she will notice. When we’re not there…she’ll notice.” Even as I said it I wasn’t sure. So much had happened that Momma never noticed or cared about. Maybe she would be relieve we were gone. Maybe she wouldn’t search at all.
Even though I did my best to hide it, I was hungry and weak too. …show more content…
People attacked rats.
Humans were the bigger ones, but still, I hated rats.
The rats kept coming. Quick in their movements. I brushed another away from Evie’s shirt and hauled her to her feet, positioning her behind me. “Get!” I screamed. “SHOO!” I stomped my feet.
“It’s okay,” Clay assured. “They won’t hurt you.”
Brooke kicked one with her foot, sending the rat hurtling into the baseboard. “That’s it. Run!” she yelled. “You bastards!! Run back into the hole you come out of!”
And they did.
My chest rose and fell in deep breaths as I watched the rats scamper back into hiding within their walls, our walls. My pulse pushed adrenaline through my veins. I was so sick of the Keller’s, sick of being trapped and hungry and dirty. The last rat fled in the direction of a pyramid of cobweb draped boxes.
A broom handle came down. Whack! Across the rat’s head stopping it dead, and I do mean dead. Blood sprayed my shoe. “Christ, David,” Brooke scolded. “Can you be anymore gross? Now we got to deal with the mess.”
David bent and picked up the rat by its tail and held it swinging mid-air in front of his face. He cocked his head, beads of sweat rolling down his temples and forehead. He smiled. “Got it good, didn’t …show more content…
“Maybe.” Clay pulled the drape over the window, and we all left the room, closing the door tight behind us. We would not enter it again. It was too close to the memory of Emily and her gruesome end. Clay wrapped an arm around me, and placed a hand on Evie’s shoulder, guiding us across the hallway.
“The bastards are back in the foyer,” David announced. I lowered my head, listening. He was right. I could hear their panting. The wet-dog smell had returned.
“Great,” said Brooke. She did not follow us into the room. Instead, she made her way to the landing. None of us said a thing to her. We were not worried that she would make the same mistake as Emily. None of us would. Running away from these dogs was not possible. There were too many. They were too fast.
Clay had David sit in the rocking chair. His leg had opened up and was bleeding. He had a fever. Seeing what happened to Emily only made his condition worse.
“Look what I found.” Brooke entered the bedroom, holding up a section of metal pipe about five feet long. “It was in the broom closet by the bench out there.”
“What do you intend to do with that?” Clay asked.
“I think it’s long enough,” Brooke said studying the