Chapter title is from song by Metallica.

18

Turn the Page - Metallica

She should have been driving west. There were zombies out there that weren't getting any deader, and a job that wasn't getting any doner.

But instead she was heading south, because she'd taken one glance at the tight-lipped kid sitting in the backseat of her Durango, and made an impulsive turn onto 88. It'd take a day, Garth had said, to round up some backup, and her shoulder was still too sore to use effectively anyway. It'd do them good, to get some distance from Dolgeville, and that was why she was headed south, putting some distance between them and this mysterious Mother, and her tracker zombies.

Those were all the logical reasons. Rhyme and reason, all of it good and sound. But the truth was, she'd been down this road, and yes, the safest thing to do would be to go to ground, find a place to hole up and lay low until whatever help Garth found showed up, but that felt wrong. It felt wrong in her gut, like they'd be crawling into the darkness and prolonging the nightmare, and most nights Toby slept badly enough as it was. So she took the turn south, away from the job, away from all the places they'd been, and watched the tense line of the kid's shoulders relax as he realized they weren't headed back the way they came.

Still, there were some things she hadn't counted on. She hadn't expected the indecipherable expression that crossed Toby's face when she pulled into Cooperstown in the late afternoon. She kept an eye on him as she drove down the main drag, past cheerfully lit shops and tourists, kids his age and their parents, and she couldn't tell if this had been a good idea or not. He didn't react when they went past the Baseball Hall of Fame. She frowned. Well, in all honesty, she had no idea if he would be into baseball or not. He was a small boy. What did small boys do if they didn't play baseball?

She drove towards the lake, revising her plans on the fly. A resort hotel caught her eye, sheltered behind an elaborate iron fence. The expanse of water behind the hotel was perfect, giving visibility for miles across the water. The rolling green of the adjoining golf course and its smooth cover of snow would show any incoming tracks from unusual directions. Toby sat up as she took the turn past the ornate gates and down the long driveway, pulling in beneath the high portico. There was a question on the tip of his tongue but he held silent.

She slipped the SUV into park and waited as the valet came around to open the door. Toby followed her lead, grabbing his backpack as she snagged her duffel with her good arm. She handed the keys to the valet as if she did this every day, ignoring the sidelong glances that came her way. Dressed severely in black like she was, she stood out, much more so than Toby; there was nothing to be done about that. A place like this got all sorts, and with enough money, you got upgraded from weird to eccentric. She was used to it, but Toby stayed unusually close to her, navigating around the furniture in the lobby gingerly like their clawed feet might trip him up at any moment.

When the porter had closed the door behind him, Toby did a full 360 to take in the view from the corner suite, on the top floor of the hotel's west wing.

"Are you rich?"

Zee spared him a glance as she inspected the locks on the balcony doors.

"Hmm. We're not running a scam being here, if that's what you're asking."

He let out a breath. The resort was quite a jump up from the motels they had stayed at the last two nights, where it was easier to blend in, remain anonymous, and be forgotten. Here, sticking out like a sore thumb among the bright floral drapes and polished antique furnishings, anonymity was a lost cause. It was easy to see why Toby thought they could be tossed out on their rears any second.

Toby wove his way around yet more furniture to her side and looked out over the lake with her.

"You can see clearly in three directions." She pointed out. "And water is good; water hides scent and is hard for most things to cross."

Toby swallowed this information. "We're safe?"

She looked out across the shimmering expanse of blue before them. The day was calm, and the water lay still. It should have been easy to just answer yes to his question, except that would have been a lie. She hedged.

"We should have lots of warning. It'll be harder for any of our shaggy friends to sneak up on us here. Unless they're smart enough to stick to the path, their tracks will show in the snow."

He poked his head out the window and looked around, checking out the pier and the beached paddleboats.

"We passed the Hall of Fame."

He had noticed. Maybe this hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

"Would you like to go?"

Toby looked undecided. Absently he fingered the chain beneath his shirt before replying. "Dad always wanted to." Long pause. "He liked the Red Sox."

She made a mental note to expand her search for relatives to the Boston area.

"Well, come on, then. Let's go check it out."

They bought a Red Sox cap at the museum, but Toby was jumpy. He moved from display to display with polite interest, but he shied away from other people, other children especially, until his behavior was noticeable and started to attract questioning looks of its own. Zee tucked the newly bought cap over his head, and knelt down by him as he stood in front of a wooden statue of Ted Williams, staring up into the painted face as if asking for answers.

"Had enough?"

His nod was miserable. She took him by the hand as they walked to the car, and he didn't pull away out of embarrassment, even when some other little brats pointed and snickered. He got in the car somewhat dejectedly and muttered, "Sorry."

She stood in the open doorway of the vehicle and cocked her head.

"Whatever for?"

"It was supposed to be fun."

Zee's eyebrows lifted. "If you like baseball."

Toby stared out the other window. His hand went unconsciously over his heart again, fingers tapping.

She caught her breath. Stupid. It might have been fun with his Dad. And being here, seeing other the other kids with their parents, was a reminder of the things he'd lost. Painful. Her lips twisted with self-deprecating insight. It was foolish to think she could do this. There was a whole lexicon of normal out there she had no understanding of. How was she ever going to provide it?

She turned her head away, the feeling of loss unexpectedly catching in her throat. Schooling her expression to neutral, she reached across him for the seat belt and buckled him in though he was perfectly capable of doing it himself.

"Hungry?"

Toby shook his head.

Zee straightened, thinking hard. What she should do, was go back to the hotel room and look for any relatives he might have in the Boston area. Her search had turned up nothing so far, but maybe she just hadn't cast the net wide enough. What she needed to do, was read through the case files sitting in her email inbox. What she did was make another call, closing the car door behind her.

The Farmer's Museum was closed for the winter, the buildings snug and nestled in the foot deep snow. As they pulled into the empty parking lot, a heavily bundled figure came out to greet them, followed by a frisky black and white border collie.

"Zee."

"Tom. I appreciate you taking the time for this."

"Of course." A gentle smile creased his round face as he peered around her. "Is that the kid?"

They shook hands as Toby clambered out of the car, looking around curiously at the deserted fields and paddocks. The border collie ran up to Toby, sniffing enthusiastically and curiously before putting her paws up gently on his shoulders and giving his face a long lick. Toby stood stock still as the dog's wet tongue laved his cheek. With one cautious hand, he reached out and scratched the white spot between the black ears, and was rewarded with more licking.

"Daisy! Down!" Tom commanded sharply.

The dog's front paws came down to the ground as she gave her owner an innocent look before she went back to head butting Toby's midriff for more scratches.

"Sorry." Tom apologized. "We're working on her."

Toby had both hands in Daisy's fur now, scratching between her ears and along her neck, his attention totally absorbed by the dog's brown eyes, twisting and tilting her head to get the scratching hands to all the places she itched. Another bout of licking followed until Toby laughed and pushed at the dog to get her tongue off his face. Daisy wagged her tail with more enthusiasm than brain before giving Toby another bump hard enough to knock him a step backwards.

"Daisy!" Tom said sternly.

"It's okay." Toby had his hand buried in the dog's ruff, the hint of a smile on his face as he looked down at Daisy's head.

Zee shifted, the chill of the outdoors biting her cheeks.

"Come on. Tom's going to show us the Cardiff Giant."

Tom showed them around, his soft voice explaining the workings of the farm buildings, the old tools, the museum displays put away for the winter. Toby's attention wandered, as did Zee's, until she caught Tom's amused smile as he ended their tour in the warm barn. The resident calico took one look at them as they trooped into the building, stamping snow noisily from their shoes, and put her nose up in the air, jumping to a higher beam. Toby watched the cat make the elegant leap, perking up, finding the barn's denizens considerably more interesting than the Cardiff Giant (which was mostly harmless except the one day of the year it needed to be spritzed with Holy Water to keep it quiet). They spent most of the afternoon in the barn looking at the first new lambs, Daisy constantly butting up against Toby's side, her head finding a place under his hand.

Tom's wife Sue and his son Brian joined them later in the afternoon, Tom sweeping Toby up into the routine of chores needing to be done, insisting they stay for dinner as "payment" for Toby's help. Zee hung back silently, letting the talk and laughter flow around her.

Sue caught her to one side after the meal as the kids were absorbed in some video game involving cars. Zee paid tangential attention to the red and green cars on the screen. The graphics really were very good. Sue's gaze settled on Toby, showing her young son some trick with the game they were playing.

"He's welcome to stay with us, if you want."

Maybe Sue had sensed something of the situation even though Zee had said very little. Zee looked over at Toby, sitting cross-legged on the rug, Daisy's head in his lap, his attention completely absorbed by the action on the TV screen.

The solution made so much sense. The kid needed normal, normal like this. He needed to be out of the life, before the life became his new normal.

Except for one thing. Mother.

They were still too close. Whether Mother was a witch or her zombies were just darn good trackers, she would likely find Toby so long as she was still obsessed with him. Zee had come too far relying on her instincts to dismiss them now. And they were screaming.

"Thanks. I may take you up on that. But later."

Sue nodded, reaching out to place a hand on her arm, meant as warm and reassuring. Zee steeled herself against reacting to the touch, the reflex of contact as prelude to combat lying just beneath the surface of her skin. And maybe that showed too, because Sue removed her hand as quickly as the touch was brief, pity and understanding in the kind regret that crossed her face.

Toby looked up and over at them. Sue moved away, collecting the dishes from the table.

Toby put down the console suddenly, ignoring Brian's whoops of victory as the green car crashed off course into the wall on the screen. Daisy's head came up to attention, her ears perking at the change in atmosphere. Toby gave her a distracted scratch between the ears, not taking his eyes off Zee, a question in them.

It only took a tiny sideways tilt of her head. Toby stood, said something to Brian, and came over to her side, ready to go.

"Thank you for dinner." His manners were meticulous as he addressed Sue.

Sue put down the stack of plates she was carrying. She gathered him up in a hug, squeezing tightly, not even having to think about it.

"You're very welcome, Toby. Come back anytime."

Sue looked up at Zee as she said the words.

Tom walked them out to the car, Daisy at his heels. Toby gave her a last pat on the head before climbing in.

"Sue talk to you?" Tom asked quietly after she closed the passenger door.

"Yes."

Tom glanced briefly at Toby before turning his attention to Daisy. His voice was low to avoid carrying.

"It'd be good for Brian too, to have someone who understands around."

Zee nodded acknowledgement of that fact. "I appreciate it."

Tom looked at her directly then, "Anytime. We owe you."

Zee smiled faintly. "No, you don't. It's my job."

The older man shook his head. "Nothing that easy."

Tom shook himself and stepped back, waving at Toby through the window. Daisy yipped a quiet goodbye.

Toby was silent as they made their way to the room. She was setting the locks on the door when he came to a stop between a wing chair and a low table, blurting suddenly, "You can't leave me with them."

Zee took a second's pause before she turned around to face him.

"How'd you figure that?"

The look he gave her was a mix of oh-please and adults-are-so-lame.

"She'll find me."

Mother. It was too much to hope that the threat had faded from his mind, even a little bit.

"She'll kill them."

His lip trembled. His hands balled up into fists and he was breathing hard, on the edge of helpless frustration, trembling with it. One fist punched down weakly through the air in a gesture of futility. He looked up at her, memories too strong in his thin face, haunted in his eyes.

"What if she takes Brian?"

Zee stayed where she was as the words were torn from him.

"What if she takes another kid?"

It was something she had already considered. She had been hunting too long, but the scenario was a plus/minus one. On the one hand, it meant Mother would no longer be hunting Toby, which was one less problem. On the other, it meant she needed to find Mother sooner rather than later, which was a bit difficult with Toby around. Six of one, half dozen the other. It was hard to say what was the priority.

He spun on his heel, facing away from her. She could see the determined set of his chin as his hands fisted and re-fisted, struggling with a decision. His right hand went over his chest again, tapping on the dog tags resting against his heart. His voice was low when he spoke again.

"She's at the old sawmill."

Zee didn't move. Toby turned again, and stared at her, anxiety and stubbornness making a curious mix on his face.

"I'll show you where."

Dispassionately, part of her brain kicked into action, looking forward; planning strategy and attack with the cool equilibrium ingrained by habit. This was the job, where things were straightforward and real. Find the monsters, kill the monsters. It was all clean edges and action, just a matter of having a clear picture of what needed to happen and following through.

She looked at Toby standing there, the brim of tears held in check in his eyes, lower lip pushed firmly into the upper, chin and shoulders set and squared, sitting as hard as he could on his fears, a tremble on the edge of bursting loose. He planted his feet more firmly on the blue carpet, vibrating with emotion.

She couldn't afford emotion. It was a handicap. If she did her job, he would be safe. She just needed to park him somewhere, with Tom and Sue, maybe, now that she knew where Mother was holed up. She could take out the nest with a little planning now that she knew fire was the trick. Probably. She needed to test that; make sure it really was the ticket—flaming, pissed off and still grabby zombies would be a bitch. There was that thing in the lore about staking them to their grave beds with silver stakes, but staking that many of them…she was running over her options, back in the groove of the hunt when a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"I'm going with you."

What?

"What?" she stared Toby down, not sparing him because he was only three feet and change, too young for it. She had stared down fully-grown hunters with that look, but the kid stared right back.

"I know where they are."

"You just told me." She snapped.

"There's more than one old sawmill around here."

"I'll work it out."

"You can't leave me with them. She'll come for me. They'll be in danger."

Fuck shit fuck. That was the one hole in her plan. He knew it. She knew it. And he knew she knew it. He was, what, eight on a good day? Dangnabbit. She hadn't even asked or paid attention when she was looking at his bio. It wasn't relevant to the job. And here she was, bested by a babe with years on his shoulders that didn't belong there, trapped in a logical argument she couldn't get out of.

For the second time in days, frustration leaked through as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"I won't slow you down."

Oh, for crying out loud. As if that was what she was worried about. She kept the stare from turning into a glare by the narrowest margin. Her lips thinned as she tried to think things through.

"We'll leave in the morning."

He stared at her dubiously, untrusting.

"Go shower and get ready for bed. You need sleep." Her words were sharp and curt, lacking in patience. He would be so much better off with Sue.

He stayed where he was, still looking at her, shining with mistrust.

"Fine. I promise not to ditch you between now and tomorrow morning. Just get ready for bed, yeah? I need to plan."

His relaxation was fractional.

She flexed her left shoulder experimentally and grit her teeth. "If you don't trust me, trust the shoulder. I won't be picking any fights for at least a few days."

He looked at her pained wince before begrudgingly moving towards his backpack for his things. Great. Just great. Her bum shoulder was apparently more trustworthy than her word.