"But look what it took for us to find out how we felt about each other. You've been through a living hell since Easter week, and I. . . I'm not even human anymore."
"I don't care what you are. I know who you are."
After a while he said, "Sex is out of the question, you know."
"Yes. We both still have our vows."
"I don't mean that. I mean . . . one of the changes in me . . . one of the things they stole from me ... I don't think I ever can."
Carole said nothing. It didn't matter.
They stayed this way a long time, Joseph lying still against her thighs, Carole stroking his hair, soothing him, murmuring to him. In the world outside the horror still raged all about them, but here, in this moment, in this place, she'd found a sliver of peace, the closest to heaven she'd ever been.
CAROLE . . .
Lacey burst out laughing. She couldn't help it.
Joe glanced up from where he sat across from her at the little dining room table. "What's so funny?"
"I was just thinking what a cozy little domestic scene this is. Here's Papa Joe, sharpening stakes to drive through undead hearts. There's Momma Carole at the sink mixing up a batch of napalm. And here's baby Lacey cleaning her 9mm pistols." She laughed again. "We're the new nuclear family!"
Carole turned from the sink where she was stirring a strange mix with a large wooden spoon, and gave her a wry smile. "Nuclear... there's a thought."
"No, Carole," Joe said. "Don't go there."
What a change in Carole and Joe. Their meeting in the bedroom had transformed them. They'd come out leaning close to each other. Lacey wouldn't have been surprised if they started holding hands, but they didn't. Joe seemed so much more at ease in her presence, and Carole ... well, Carole positively glowed.
All because of me, Lacey thought. Did I have the situation and solution nailed or what? Am I brilliant or am I brilliant?
After Joe had fed, they went their separate ways. Joe took the car to Lake-wood to work out a plan of attack on the Post Office. Carole walked down to the abandoned business district on Arnold Avenue to do what she termed some "shopping." Lacey hoped that neither of them ran into Vichy along the way.
Her own job was simpler. Armed with a makeshift siphon, she'd been assigned the task of finding gasoline.
That had proved a cinch. Her first stop had been the garage behind the bungalow where she discovered an old Ford convertible with a full tank. She found a dusty five-gallon gas can, probably for a motorboat, and filled that.
Carole returned later with a shopping cart loaded with boxes of different brands of soap flakes, some lighter fluid, plus a bag of sundries from a party supply shop. She immediately set up in the kitchen and went to work filling the house with fumes.
Lacey held up one of the 9mm rounds and showed it to Joe.
"Look at this. Hollow point. They're all hollow points."
Joe shook his head. "Nasty things. I hear they make a little hole going in and a great big hole coming out."
"Why would the undead be carrying automatics loaded with these?"
"To protect against humans, I imagine," Joe said. "They're strong, they're fast, but that's not enough if they're attacked by a mob." He pointed to the round. "That's probably what the Vichy will be using against us this morning—if they get the chance."
"Let's go over the plan again," Lacey said.
She wasn't crazy about it. As much as she respected her uncle's intelligence, he'd had no military training, had never engaged in any sort of violent activity. Lacey had at least studied martial arts. That wasn't much, but it had trained her on how to size up an opponent, how to look for strategic openings. Joe's plan seemed to depend on too many variables.
"Okay," Joe said. "The Vichy guards spend most of their time hanging around on the front steps. When they're not smoking they're sleeping. They're bored and don't take their job seriously. No one's ever attacked them on duty like that and they probably think no one ever will. We're going to change that."
"Hitting them at dawn I understand, but why napalm? Why don't we just shoot them?"
"Because we're not marksmen—or, excuse me, markswomen—and we can't afford a protracted gun battle because my clock will be running. If they hold out past my sun tolerance, we'll have lost more than the battle. We won't be able to take them by surprise again. But more than that, the more bullets flying, the greater chance of you or Carole getting hit."
"But how do we know the napalm will work?"
Joe's idea was for the three of them to climb to the roof of the building across the street and each toss a napalm-filled balloon onto the Vichy as they lounged on the Post Office steps below. The street wasn't wide and it was an easy throw from the roof. Or so he said.
"Oh, it will work," Carole said from the sink. "Have no fear of that."
"But it has to ignite."
"We'll make sure one of them's smoking before we toss."
"That doesn't guarantee it will light."
Joe leaned back, staring at her. For a moment she thought he was angry but couldn't be sure. So hard to gauge emotions when a face has no expression.
"You're right," he said finally. "It doesn't." He turned toward the kitchen. "Do we have any gasoline left, Carole?"
"A little. Why?"
"Save half a dozen ounces or so. We're going to bring along a Molotov cocktail." He turned back to Lacey. "Better?" "You mean throw that first, then the napalm?" He nodded. "Yeah," Lacey said. "That'll work."
JOE . . .
"Oh, no!" Joe said as he heard a thwacking noise and the car began to vibrate. He slammed a fist against the steering wheel. "Damn!"
They'd left an hour before dawn. The plan had been to loop north of Lakewood through Howell and approach downtown from the west. They were on Aldrich Road when the noise began.
"What's wrong?" Carole said. She sat next to him in the front, Lacey sat in the rear with the arsenal.
"Can you believe it? We've got a flat!"
He popped the trunk and jumped out. Of all times for something like this to happen.
"Can't we drive on the rim?" Carole said.
"Any other time I'd say fine, but we can't risk the racket it will make."
He lifted the trunk lid and was relieved to find the spare present and inflated.
Nearly half an hour later they were rolling again.