Apocalypse Asunder Read Online Free PDF Page B

twisting sorrowfully.
    Austin laughed.  “The books are better.”
    “Well if we find a set, I’ll read them.  It’s not like they’re going to keep making episodes with all this going on.”
    “Probably not.  I’ll keep my eyes open.”
    “Thanks.  I never had much time to read the past, oh, seventeen years or so.  Barely had time to collapse into the bed or on the sofa after I got the kids into bed.”  Her expression darkened further, but she shook her head briskly before he could offer a condolence.  “Never mind.  I’ve got time to read now, if we find any good books.  Even moms need some R&R on occasion.”
    “But about winter . . .” he prompted her.
    “Oh, right.” she banished the memories of a life lost to the apocalypse and frowned thoughtfully.  “Next month, we’ll be lucky if it’s in the upper fifties on some of the colder afternoons.  And by December it could easily be down in the forties.”
    “It had occurred to me.” he admitted.
    “Well, Candice and I aren’t as built to withstand four or five months of weather that cold; especially not Candice.  She’s not just ten, she’s also under a hundred pounds.”
    “You’re more than a hundred pounds.” he said with a wink.
    “Not much more.” she protested, though she managed a grin even as she felt herself blushing lightly.  She’d always been reasonably slim, even after three children, but years as an office worker had left room where she felt she could improve a little.  However, seven weeks of surviving a zombie apocalypse, constantly moving and scavenging for enough to eat and drink, had put her in the best shape she’d been in for years.
    “Don’t talk about my weight.  Didn’t y– don’t ask a girl what she weighs.” Jessica continued, catching herself just in time.  One of the standard subjects-to-avoid was talking about family.  Especially the ones whose fates were unknown.  Austin’s parents were in that category.  If they were alive, they were somewhere in the mid-west.
    “You brought it up.” Austin pointed out.  His voice was calm and normal, showing no sign he’d noticed where the thread of conversation had almost gone.
    “Shush.” she said, keeping her tone and manner light and teasing.  “Candice doesn’t have the body mass to handle being cold all the time, and I’m not sure just bundling her up like an Eskimo is going to work.  Not for three or four months straight.  We need heat. This is Georgia.  Fireplaces are rare – real ones that work anyway – and I doubt we’re going to find one on the second floor of a house we can take over for the winter.”
    The second floor was crucial.  So far, zombies didn’t climb or fly.  They could barely make it up stairs when something drew their attention to make the attempt.  But they could batter through doors and windows if something motivated them to notice a reason to, and houses everywhere in America were festooned with plenty of ground-floor windows.  Every one an open invitation for a wandering zombie to show up and help itself to dinner.
    “If we try hard enough, we might be able to rig something up.” Austin said.  “Figure out a way to vent a makeshift stove or firepot or something and still keep the air clean.”
    “How?” Jessica wondered.
    “I don’t know.  Appropriate some dryer ventilation tubing maybe.  Get another barbecue grill, or a big wok.”
    “Do you know anything about metal working?”
    “I took shop, but it was wood shop, and it was back in high school.”
    “I might not be a doctor or nurse, but I worked in medical administration for over a decade.” Jessica sighed.  “I know what carbon monoxide poisoning can do, and how fast it can take everyone in a building down without warning.  If we get something like that wrong, when we’ve got a fire in the room with us, we could die in our sleep.”
    Austin started reassembling the MP5.  “We’d need a lot of wood to keep it going anyway.