The Walking Dead_ The Road to Woodbury - By Robert Kirkman Page 0,72
and overlooks the kidney-shaped pool in the backyard, covered now with a snow-crusted tarp. Winter winds rattle the windows, a fine icy sleet hissing against the glass.
“I’m not saying it’s not a possibility,” Josh says from across the room, where he is selecting utensils from a drawer of fine silver and putting them into a duffel bag. Evening is closing in on their second day of exploring the enclave, and they have gathered enough supplies to stock a home of their own. They have hidden some of the provisions outside Woodbury’s wall, in sheds and barns. They have stashed firearms and tools and canned goods in Bob’s camper, and have made plans to get one of the vehicles in working order.
Now Josh lets out a sigh and goes over to the sofa and sits down next to Lilly. “Still not convinced these places are safe,” he says.
“C’mon … dude … these houses are like fortresses, the owners locked them up tight as drums before taking off in their private jets. I can’t take one more night in that creepy town.”
Josh gives her a sorrowful look. “Baby, I promise you … one day all this shit will be over.”
“Really? You think?”
“I’m sure of it, babygirl. Somebody’s gonna figure out what went wrong … some egghead at the CDC’s gonna come up with an antidote, keep folks in their graves.”
Lilly rubs her eyes. “I wish I had that kind of confidence.”
Josh touches her hand. “‘This too shall pass,’ baby. It’s like my mama always used to say, ‘Only thing you can depend on in this world is that you can’t depend on nothin’ to stay the same, everything changes.’” He looks at her and smiles. “Only thing ain’t never gonna change, baby, is how I feel about you.”
They sit there for a moment, listening to the silent house tick and settle, the wind strafing the home with bursts of sleet, when something moves outside, across the backyard. The tops of several dozen heads slowly rise up behind the edge of the distant precipice, a row of rotting faces, unseen by Lilly and Josh—their backs turned to the window now—as the pack of zombies emerge from the shadows of the ravine.
Oblivious to the imminent threat, lost in her thoughts, Lilly puts her head on Josh’s massive shoulder. She feels a twinge of guilt. Each day she senses Josh falling deeper and deeper for her, the way he touches her, the way his eyes light up each morning when they awaken on the cold pallet of that second-floor apartment.
Part of Lilly hungers for such affection and intimacy … but a part of her still feels removed, detached, guilty that she’s allowed this relationship to blossom out of fear, out of convenience. She feels a sense of duty to Josh. But that’s no basis for a relationship. What she’s doing is wrong. She owes him the truth.
“Josh…” She looks up at him. “I have to tell you … you’re one of the most wonderful men I have ever met.”
He grins, not quite registering the sadness in her voice. “And you’re pretty damn fine yourself.”
Outside, plainly visible now through the rear window, at least fifty creatures scrabble up and over the ledge, crabbing onto the lawn, their clawlike fingers digging into the turf, tugging their dead weight along in fits and starts. Some of them struggle to their feet and begin lumbering toward the glass-enclosed edifice with mouths gaping hungrily. A dead geriatric dressed in a hospital smock, his long gray hair flagging like milkweed, leads the pack.
Inside the lavish home, behind panes of safety glass, unaware of the encroaching menace, Lilly measures her words. “You’ve been so good to me, Josh Lee … I don’t know how long I could have survived on my own … and for that I will always be grateful.”
Now Josh cocks his head at her, his grin fading. “Why do I all of a sudden get the feeling there’s a ‘but’ in here somewhere?”
Lilly licks her lips thoughtfully. “This plague, this epidemic, whatever it is … it does things to people … makes them do things they wouldn’t dream of doing any other time.”
Josh’s big brown face falls. “What are you sayin,’ babydoll? Something’s bothering you.”
“I’m just saying … maybe … I don’t know … maybe I’ve let this thing between us go a little too far.”
Josh looks at her, and for a long moment he seems to grope for words. He clears his throat. “Ain’t sure I’m following you.”