Chapter 5

Matt shoved the garbage bag into Val's hand. "Get up on the roof."

She hesitated, staring at the open door and the walking dead beyond it. "Matt, that thing, it opened the door. It turned the keys and opened the door. They don't know how to open doors, but it opened the door..."

Matt turned her around and pushed her towards the back of the restaurant. "Go!" He stepped over the body on the floor and twisted the keys out of the lock before shoving the door closed. Partway closed anyway, the snowdrift had collapsed and stopped him from shutting the door all the way. The dead were almost to the door now, moving more surely than they had in the summertime, despite the slippery footing outside. He dropped the keys and ran, grabbing Valerie by the arm and dragging her along, shutting the utility closet door behind them. He heard their moans echo inside the restaurant as he shoved her up the ladder ahead of him.

Once on the roof he handed the rifle to Valerie, then slammed the hatch shut and sat on it while fishing in his pockets. Working quickly he cut off an arms length of clothesline and tied the hatch closed. They still didn't seem to be able to climb ladders, but better safe than sorry. Valerie just stood there watching him. "Take that stuff downstairs." he told her, "I'll be right behind you."

Her hands shook as she grabbed the bags and dragged them through the falling snow to the other end of the roof. She was staring off into the distance again, but if he gave her something to do she'd do it, and she would still fight if she needed to. She'd be alright; she was always like that after, sometimes for hours. She'd be okay, she had to ... they needed her ... he needed her. Matt paused at the top for the ladder, and hauled the hatch closed. Snow fell on him, and past him, joining a scattering of flakes on the floor of the storeroom. Valerie waited for him at the bottom. He took the bags, put an arm around her and led her into the tent. "Come on Val, let's get you warmed up."

Up front, the dead rattled the shopping carts blocking the entrance. They'd managed to break the glass on the outside doors the month before, but with the shopping carts tied together, there was no way they could get in that way. The kids looked worried, they must have heard the shots that had stirred up the dead, but they'd done what he'd told them and stayed there waiting. He knew just how hard that could be. "It's okay, they didn't get close enough to touch us." He saw their relief at the news.

He took off his hat and shucked out of the sweatshirt, shaking the snow off before hanging it up to dry. Matt had boots on, they didn't fit as well as they had six months ago, but at least they kept his feet dry, Val only had tennis shoes, like the others. She sat by the stove, staring at the flames, shivering. She had taken off the outermost of her sweatshirts before she sat down though.

Matt put the bags of food on the shelf, and knelt by her. "Give me your feet," he said, taking one of them and pulling the shoe off. It was soaking wet, he had to peel off the sock. The legs of her pants, the spare pants that had been in her mother's pack, dripped water onto the tile floor. "Nessa, get her a blanket." Her little sister wrapped the sewn together t-shirts around the girl, while he pulled her other sock and shoe off. Her feet were ice cold. He pulled up his t-shirt and put them on his stomach, hoping his flinch didn't show. "Val," he said softly. She didn't look up from the fire. He put his hands over the top of her feet, rubbing them gently until she looked at him. "Val, how about if you stay here and I take Bobby with me to send the letter."

Bobby perked up. "Can I go Val? Please? I want to help too."

Valerie looked from him to the younger boy and then back. "Okay." She said with just a ghost of a smile.

Vanessa clapped her hands. "Can you read the one where they fly again?" Valerie didn't say anything, but she nodded. That was good, she was already getting over it.

Matt put a dry pair of socks on Valerie's feet, then stood, grabbed another sweatshirt off the pile, and pulled it on. He grabbed his hat and rifle, then waited for Bobby to get his shoes on. It took a little while, as he'd nearly outgrown them. As they left the smoky tent, he heard Valerie start reading. "'My name is Holly Jones and I'm fifteen... '"