The Last Mile Read Online Free Page A

hand. He turned and cast a longing gaze at the machete, but it lay too close to the mound of feasting thorn-stalks, and he wasn’t about to risk retrieving it. He’d make do with what he could salvage.
    He unlocked the back door, opened it, then stepped back just in case the woman should get any cute ideas about trying to attack him. But she just sat there, staring up at him with an expression that was equal parts fear and irritation.
    “Well, what are you waiting for? Cut me loose and let’s get the hell out of here before something else tries to kill us!”
    * * *
    “Daddy…is it still out there?”
    Dan knelt on the couch and pushed the blinds open a crack so he could peer through the picture window. All that remained of his lawn were scattered patches of dead grass; otherwise, the ground was bare and lifeless, the soil gray as potter’s clay. The yard was far from empty, though. Bone shards, tufts of fur, and bits of rotting flesh were scattered across the ground, the remains of those animals that had died during the Arrival—birds, cats, dogs, rabbits, squirrels…It had only been a few days, but little was left, thanks to the predators that inhabited what Dan was already coming to think of as the World After. Predators like the misshapen thing standing on the other side of the picture window, watching him with eyes that shone with far too much intelligence.
    It was part bovine, part human, a woman’s head hanging upside down where an udder should’ve been, her tongue lolling, matted black hair dragging the ground. It possessed a long serpent in place of a tail, the head curled underneath the main part of the creature’s body so its forked tongue could taste the udder-head’s ear. The cow body was scrawny, its dry, leathery brown hide stretched tight across bone, so tight that the flesh had torn in numerous place, revealing glimpses of the yellowed skeleton beneath. The cow head looked as if it had been dipped in acid, for it was nothing but a skull—except for the eyes. They remained untouched, and they stared at Dan with what he interpreted as malign amusement.
    He took his trembling hands away from the blinds and let them fall back into place. It did no good, though; he could still feel the creature’s gaze upon him whether he could see it or not.
    “I’m afraid so, honey.” He got off the couch and walked over to the chair where his daughter was sitting. He sat on the arm and looked at her. Lindsey was almost twelve, and she resembled her mother so much that it brought a lump to his throat whenever he saw her. Curly black hair, round face, full lips, lean torso, long arms and legs, a heartbreaker in waiting for sure. She sat with her legs drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around them, gently rocking back and forth for whatever slight comfort the motion might bring. She wore the same clothes she had on during the Arrival: black soccer shorts and an Eeyore T-shirt. Yesterday, he’d suggested she might want to change into clean clothes, but that had set her to screaming at the top of her lungs for the better part of an hour. After that, Dan had decided to let her go grubby for as long as she wanted.
    “I’m glad you didn’t lie to me,” Lindsey said. She stared straight ahead, not looking at him. She hadn’t made eye contact since the Arrival. “Adults always lie to kids to try and protect them. I’m glad you’re not like that.”
    Dan wished he could lie to her, but how could he possibly convince her that everything was going to be okay? They had no electricity or water, but he could come up with any number of lies to explain that. But how could he ever explain what Lindsey could see for herself simply by looking out the goddamned window? How could he explain what had happened to her mother? He didn’t tell Lindsey the truth out of any moral principle; he didn’t have any other options.
    “How are you doing, honey?” he asked. “You hungry or thirsty?” His daughter had barely taken any