“Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. That’s a huge mistake most beginners make when learning how to use a gun,” Reese says. He’s sitting next to me on the couch, and his hands are showing me what to do. “Click the safety off, and pull the trigger.”

  “How do I tell if the safety is on or off?” I ask, earning a laugh from Ryder. I glare at him, hating that my cheeks are burning with humiliation. One person shouldn’t be able to make someone feel so stupid, but Ryder definitely accomplishes that.

  Reese doesn’t laugh. He just shows me how to click the safety on and off, and the correct way to grip the gun. “Don’t worry, this gun isn’t loaded right now, so it’s safe to handle.”

  I take the gun from him, noticing that it’s smaller than the Glock 17’s he took from the gun store. I look it over, click off the safety, and take aim at an empty soda can on the shelf nearby. I focus my breathing to steady my nervous hands. After a second, I click the safety back on and hand the gun back to Reese.

  After that, he shows me how to load and reload the gun, and it takes me a while to get the hang of it. After an hour with the gun, I can barely reload while in the safe, empty apartment. “What am I gonna do if I’m attacked by zombies and under pressure? I’ll probably drop the magazine and get myself killed.”

  “Don’t worry about it too much; it’ll just make you even worse. We’ll practice some more when we get on the open road the sound won’t attract Warriors. I’ll teach you to shoot, no matter how long it takes.”

  Ryder looks at us from the kitchen. “Would the two of you please get a room?”

  I glare at him over Reese’s shoulder, but Reese looks unfazed. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just pissed off because you called him a redneck.”

  “Isn’t he?”

  Ryder wears baggy, faded jeans, and a stained sleeveless shirt. His hair is shaggy, and his face is unshaved. Plus, he looks entirely too comfortable holding those guns.

  Reese chuckles. “Yeah, he is,” he says, picking tuna out of a can with his fingers.

  “Where do you guys come from?”

  “Texas. We’ve been on the road for about a month, walking during the day and sleeping in trees at night. We were making our way to the coast, hoping that the “safe zone” we heard about on the radio was still active.”

  “What safe zone?”

  Reese shrugs. “They popped up for a while when the infection first hit. The government would set up camps that were protected by soldiers and armed civilians. By the time we got there, they were always destroyed. The infection always finds a way in.”

  “Oh. Where is this supposed safe zone?”

  “Somewhere in Pennsylvania. We were just stopping through here when we found you. Thought another survivor might come in handy.”

  “Well, thanks for saving me.”

  Reese smiles. “No problem.”

  “Ugh, barf,” Ryder says, getting up from his seat in the kitchen. He grabs a can of beans and shuts himself in my bedroom. We both watch him go, and I can’t help but frown a little.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Reese says again. “It’s just been the two of us for a while now.”

  “How long?”

  “Well, when we started out from Texas, it was the two of us, a man and his two teenage daughters, two little boys, and an elderly woman. Ryder took charge, making sure to get them to safety. But things happen, and people do stupid things, like not listen to Ryder. One mistake was all it took, and one man got everyone in our group killed.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Ryder took it hard. He saw it as his fault that they were dead, since he’d promised them it would be alright. He knows I can take care of myself, so he doesn’t worry about me.” I think about his reaction in the car earlier, but don’t say anything. “I think he’s really not looking forward to having to take care of someone else.”

  “I can take care of myself, even if I can’t shoot a gun. I mean, I survived for months here, all by myself.”

  “Why are you alone? Didn’t you have any family in the area?”

  “My parents. But they died in the initial wave. I’m an only child, and my grandparents all died years ago. Cancer, heart attack, and a car accident. I have a cousin that lives in New York. Madison’s twenty years old, and she goes to school in New York. She was going to come live here with me after she finished. What about you?”

  “It’s just been me and Reese for a while. We’re the, uh, cliché white trash family,” I raise my eyebrow, and he sighs. “Our dad drank like a fish, and when he got drunk, he’d slap our mother around. For a while, she put up with it. She left after my sixth birthday, and didn’t come back. Didn’t even try to take us with her.”

  There’s a hard edge to Reese’s voice, and I wonder if he hates his mother.

  “I spent the next four years getting my ass kicked by my dad, until Ryder got big enough to fight back. Then my dad left, and I moved in with an Aunt, but Ryder did a lot of the caring for me. He did an alright job, but it wasn’t the same as having a mother around, you know? Our aunt never liked kids; I could tell he didn’t really wanna be a babysitter. The happiest I’ve ever seen him is when I finally got my own place.”

  “But you two are together now.”

  “When the infection first appeared, he began stockpiling supplies and getting ready for the end of the world. When it finally happened, he got me, and we left our hometown and everyone we ever knew. We’ve been running since then.”

  “I’m sorry.” I can’t think of anything else to say, but that seems to work. Reese nods once, and gets off the couch. He throws his empty can of tuna in the garbage can, and slides into his sleeping bag for the night. Without another word, he turns his back to me, and falls asleep.

  I wish I could fall asleep that easily. Instead, I’m nervously thinking about tomorrow. We’re going to spend the morning gathering more food, and then we’re leaving by noon. We’ll be on the open road, with no guaranteed safe places to sleep. For the first time since this infection started, I’ll be totally open and exposed.

  I might die out there on the open road. But I’ll definitely die if I stay here. It’s only a matter of time before my barricade fails, or the zombie Warriors find me. As temperamental as Ryder is, he’s probably my best bet for survival…