She exhaled on a laugh. Booker.
“Saving your ass,” she said, still grinning as she sat up. “You’re welcome.”
Someone she vaguely recognized stepped over them, rushing to the back of the bus.
“Keep this thing steady!” Donna cried, aiming a pistol at the Humvee.
Caitlin blinked.
Not a pistol. A flare gun.
As the bus picked up speed, Donna leveled the emergency flare with the goon squad’s windshield and pulled the trigger.
A high whistle was followed by a pop and a beat later, an explosion shook the windows of the bus.
“And to hell with ‘em!” Donna shouted, slamming the door shut.
Pain brought Caitlin’s attention back and she glanced down at her bloodied left bicep.
“Shit,” she hissed, gingerly pulling the sleeve of her borrowed plaid shirt to see the bullet wound.
Rough hands gripped her by the waist, pulling her to the side.
“Jesus, Cae,” Booker breathed, peeling the shirt off her shoulder and down her arm.
Wincing, she helped rid herself of the sleeve.
“I’m okay,” she told him, looking down at the red, gaping wound.
His fingers shook as he pressed them to the meat of her arm.
“N-Nicole?” Booker called over his shoulder. “There a first aid kit on this thing?”
Telling him she’d look, Nicole rushed to the front.
Under his breath, Booker muttered curses and half-hearted chastisements as he used his own shirt to stop the bleeding.
“…Coulda gotten killed, songbird. I mean, Jesus, what were you thinkin’… Shoulda been you on this bus first, not… Fuck, you might’ve…”
“Jack,” Caitlin whispered, interrupting his panicked spiral. “I’m okay.”
Lightning fast, Booker clutched the back of her head and pulled her close, kissing her until she felt it in her bone marrow.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he murmured against her.
Caitlin smiled, kissing him once more. “No promises.”
Returning with a yellowed first aid kit, Nicole started digging out usable gauze and adhesive tape.
Halfway through bandaging her arm, Booker chuckled.
“Average Tuesday on the L train.” He grinned up at her. “’S a good one.”
Chapter Two
Three days later
“What are you doing carrying that?”
Caitlin wiped her brow with the back of her hand and glanced over her shoulder.
“I’m okay, Donna,” she said, smiling. “It doesn’t hurt that much anymore.”
Rushing over to take the loaded-up plastic laundry basket from her, Donna tsked under her breath.
“Your stitches are still fresh,” she said. “No need for you to exert yourself.”
Squinting at the bustling campsite around them, Caitlin tilted her head. “We’re in an all-hands-on-deck situation and I’ve still got one good arm.”
The decision to move on had been made the day they got back from the Iowa Ark camp, but after nearly doubling their numbers overnight and having to help people acclimate, they’d taken a couple extra days to get their footing again.
And then the first herd of Geeks had been spotted.
In comparison to the mother-herd it was miniscule, but that didn’t matter when rotting hands and blackened mouths were coming straight for them.
They’d gotten lucky.
But Caitlin had stopped counting on luck.
The Rejects would be packing up and moving on by the next morning.
Donna’s gentle pat on her shoulder brought Caitlin back.
“I don’t know if you’ve seen,” she started. “But your group has gained quite a few capable and eager hands. No one will fault you for taking it easy. Especially after…”
She swallowed and smiled up at her.
“You’ve done so much for us. Let us help you.”
Caitlin didn’t fully understand the tinge of hero worship in everyone’s words when they spoke to her. People treated her like a savior, but if she was honest, she laid awake at night worrying if she’d doomed them to a life of struggle and heartbreak.
Freedom had a price.
Wiping her hands on the hem of her shirt, she nodded.
“Alright,” she said. “Under duress.”
Donna couldn’t have been more pleased.
“Hey, have you seen Booker around?”
Hoisting the basket onto her hip, Donna said, “Last I saw he was helping the boys dig up the perimeter spikes to load them up.”
“Great, thanks.”
With a final squeeze to Donna’s elbow, Caitlin made her way across the meadow to the thicket of trees, following the sounds of tools and men grunting.
Max hadn’t been kidding about their methods of Geek proofing.
The razor wire and cans were the first layer—a weaponized alarm. Then came the trip lines—thin rope that a person would easily see and be able to step over, but that a Geek wouldn’t notice as it shuffled through the brush. Once it was tripped, it would fall into the rows of sharpened wooden and metal spikes, impaling the creature and giving the patrolling members time to dispatch it.
And if all that failed… Well, that’s why everyone carried their weapon of choice and took turns on watch.
“Hey, Caitlin.”
“Afternoon Miss Meadows.”
“How’s it going, Caitlin?”
One after the other, men she barely knew stopped what they were doing, smiling and greeting her, nodding as she passed.
She responded to each, hoping she didn’t look as stiff and awkward as she felt.
A few yards in the distance, she spotted Booker digging around the base of one of the metal spikes, and the tension coiling in her gut eased.
Whistling to announce her approach, she grinned as he halted his work and looked up.
“I always did love a man who was handy,” she said, tucking her hands in her pockets and leaning her good shoulder against the trunk of the closest tree.
Booker chuckled. “Y’should see what I can do with a couple of days and a hardware store nearby.”
“Weekend contractor, huh?”
“Oh yeah. Best damn kitchen remodel that neighborhood’s ever seen.”
Caitlin admired the ripple of muscle underneath his sweat-soaked grey tee shirt as he turned back to the mound of dirt he was clearing.
The nape of his neck was pink from sunburn and smudged with dust, much like his exposed arms. His shirt covered most of his lion tattoo, with only the very bottom peeking out from where his sleeve was rolled up on his bicep.
But if she were honest, she was truly taken by the soft wave in his chocolate brown hair and the funny little notch in the shell of his right ear. The things that she got to see every morning when she woke up.
“You peepin’ on me again?” His grin was evident, despite him keeping his back to her.
“Maybe,” she admitted. “Just enjoying my reward.”
Twisting to look at her, he arched an eyebrow. “Reward? For what?”
For surviving.
For refusing to give up.
For fighting this hard.
“For letting Donna take over my packing duties,” she said. “Took all my strength not to carry two loads up the hill at once just to prove I was fine.”
Booker smirked. “Always tryna prove somethin’, huh Meadows?”
“I took a bullet in the arm, not the spleen. I can still help.”
“She’s just showin’ her appreciation is all,” he said, dusting soil off his hands. “You helped alotta these folks find their families again.”
“We,” she corrected. “We helped them.”
Making a soft grunt at the back of his throat, Booker ducked his head and assessed where the sharpened pipe was stuck in the ground.
She hadn’t pushed him to talk about what happened in the camp. Hadn’t forced him to acknowledge the self-loathing se
eping into every corner of his being.
Since they’d gotten back, Caitlin woke up every morning to nightmares, only this time they weren’t hers.
Prodding an open wound only seemed cruel.
Stepping away from the tree, she circled the spike and Booker until she was facing him.
“Speaking of, can I please make myself useful over here?” She nodded to the row of ten he still had to pull up. “Since I’ve been banished from packing, I can at least do some digging.”
Booker glanced up at her. “Nah, I’ve got it darlin’.”
Crossing her arms and ignoring the tug of her stitches, she opened her mouth to argue but Booker cut her off.
“But y’can keep me company while I work if ya like.”
He didn’t have to say it. She could read it all over his face.
Stay.
My mind isn’t a safe place right now.
I need you.
Caitlin dropped down to sit on a soft patch of grass, crisscrossing her legs and smiling.
“Why not,” she said. “I’ve got nowhere better to be.”
* * * * * * *
Oklahoma
If Caitlin had thought the plains of Missouri were vast, she was stunned into silence by the expanse of Oklahoma farmland.
The morning they’d arrived, she couldn’t stop turning in circles, staring out at the horizon lines at every direction.
Land, sky, and not a Geek in sight.
It didn’t leave many opportunities for coverage, but honestly, they couldn’t see anyone or anything to need coverage from.
Creating a semicircle with the vehicles, they set up their camp similarly to the meadow, only this time there were double the people to do the work and in no time the dried-up wheat field was a bustling home base.
Caitlin wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to the noise.
People moving about, talking, laughing, eating… Everything that signaled community and safety.
She wanted to soak it all in. Stare every single person in the face, memorizing the littlest details about them, and learn everything they had to share.
But she could barely bring herself to sit with the largest group at dinner.
Fancy, Max’s beloved shepherd mix, trotted by with a stick in her mouth and Caitlin smiled.
“Not much for socializing either, huh?”
But the voice didn’t belong to Max.
Turning, she looked up, squinting in the setting sun.
“Oh, sorry,” the man said, stepping forward and extending his hand. “I’m Seth. I don’t think we’ve gotten to properly meet.”
“Caitlin,” she told him. “Sorry, it’s kind of hard to keep everyone straight.”
He waved her off. “Don’t worry about it.”
She tried to remember if he’d been with the Rejects before the Ark escape or not, but nothing about his jet-black hair and hazel green eyes jogged her memory.
“You mind if I…” He trailed off, pointing to a spot on the ground next to her.
“Oh, sure,” she said, inching over just a fraction.
As he settled, pulling his knees up to wrap his arms around and clasp his wrist, he stared out at the clusters of people gathered around the fire in the center of camp.
“Do big groups freak you out as much as they do me?” Seth asked.
Casting a sidelong glance at him, Caitlin shrugged. “Kind of. I guess I’m just always waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
She expected him to question what she meant but instead he hummed in agreement.
“You lost a lot of people too then, huh?”
She nodded. “Yeah. And had to leave others.”
“Family?”
“No, but…” She looked to the children playing a made-up game with sticks and rocks near one of the tents. “They meant a lot to me.”
Seth ducked his head. “I lost my sister before we got to the Ark.”
So he hadn’t been with the Rejects before. At least she knew she wasn’t completely losing her memory.
“I’m sorry,” Caitlin murmured. “That’s horrible.”
“My cold comfort is that it was quick,” he said. “But that doesn’t make me miss her less.”
Heavy, familiar footsteps approached, and ease returned to Caitlin’s core.
“I tell ya what, that ground is drier than a corpse’s mouth,” Booker said, wiping dust from his hands with a rag. “Must’ve had a helluva summer.”
Spotting Seth, he nodded in greeting before squatting next to Caitlin.
“Seth, this is Booker,” she said, unsure if the two men had already met.
“Good t’meet you,” Booker said, still scraping dirt from under his fingernails.
“We’ve met,” Seth told him with a lopsided smile. “Very briefly, at the Ark camp.”
Booker made a noise at the back of his throat and nodded. “Well it’s good to re-meet you then.”
“You too.”
Noticing they were missing someone, Caitlin glanced over Booker’s shoulder.
“Where’s Nicole?”
“Helpin’ Scott haul some gear into our tent. She said they’d be over for some grub soon.”
It still struck Caitlin that they’d found Scott. He was safe and alive and Nicole had her husband back.
“You guys get your own tent?” Seth asked.
Booker chuckled. “If ya call sharin’ a two-person tent with four people ‘our own’, then yeah, I guess we do.”
“Hm. Yeah, doesn’t sound like my kind of slumber party,” Seth said. “I know a few people are opting to sleep on the buses. Reminds me of varsity cross country meets.”
“When I was on my own, I slept in trees and on top of broken-down semis,” Caitlin said with a shrug. “Anything beyond that is gravy.”
Seth blinked at her. “On top? Not inside?”
“Didn’t want to feel trapped,” she said plainly.
“Then one day with me and you’re hunkered down in a garden shed like a possum,” Booker added, leaning in to kiss her temple.
It was the briefest expression—a fraction of a second where something bitter and ugly slipped across Seth’s face.
In the time it took her to blink, Caitlin wondered if she’d imagined it. The malicious glare didn’t fit in with his otherwise courteous demeanor.
And when she opened her eyes again, Seth was nothing but smiles.
“Sounds like it’s been one upgrade after the other then,” he said. “And speaking of possum… I wonder if that’s the mystery meat in tonight’s stew.”
“Smells like rabbit to me,” Booker said. “But I could be wrong.”
Caitlin wouldn’t bet money on Booker being wrong about game meats.
Pushing himself to his feet, Seth said, “Well, guess I’m hungry enough to find out.”
As he waved to them, Caitlin narrowed her stare on him, watching Seth leave.
“Hey,” Booker murmured, nudging her. “He bother you?”
“Huh?”
“Went rigid there for a second,” he said. “Didn’t know if he said somethin’ or—”
Caitlin shook her head. “No, no, it’s just…” She inhaled deeply. “Nothing.”
To distract herself from the uncertainty, she leaned in and kissed Booker fully.
Brushing the tip of his nose across her cheek, Booker smiled. “Hungry?”
“Mhm hm.”
He chuckled and she felt it in her chest.
“I meant for supper,” he whispered, kissing the corner of her mouth.
“That too.”
With a final taste of her lips, Booker pulled back, standing up.
“I’ll fetch it for ya. Y’just keep that other thing on your mind a while longer.”
Propping her chin on the heel of her hand, she grinned.
That wouldn’t be a problem.
* * * * * * *
In the dark, Caitlin felt him shake.
Blinking, she tried to orient herself. It couldn’t have been later than
four in the morning.
The thick arm wrapped tight around her waist twitched, fist grasping at nothing.
Behind her, with his forehead pressed into the crook of her neck, Booker whimpered in his sleep.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly turned in his hold, facing him.
It was a pattern she was becoming familiar with.
“Jack,” she whispered, cupping his stubbled jaw. “Jack, wake up.”
Even in the dim light she could see the deep crease in his forehead, brows furrowed together, and jaw clenched.
Stroking his face gently, she tried to rouse him.
“Jack, wake up,” she repeated. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
“Under fire… Can’t make it to…” He mumbled, barely audible through gritted teeth.
Snaking one arm out to rub his shoulder, Caitlin continued talking to him.
“You’re not there anymore, Jack. You made it home.” She leaned in close, murmuring in his ear. “You’re safe. You’re here with me. Wake up, Booker.”
In his sleep, he jerked, and his grip on her tightened. Her ribs ached from the pressure, but she wasn’t deterred.
“Jack, I need you to wake up,” she said, still holding onto him. “Everything’s okay. You’re not there, you’re—”
With a sharp inhale, Booker’s eyes snapped open.
“Where—where am I? What’s—”
“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” she assured him, hand gentle on his chest. “You were having a bad dream. You’re okay, you’re safe.”
It took him several moments to catch up, and even longer for the worrisome tension to leave his body. His eyes darted around the dark tent, trying to make sense of what was and what had been.
“Jesus,” Booker breathed as he started to roll away from her.
Caitlin wouldn’t let him go far.
Rubbing soothing loops along his chest, she curled into his side.
“What was I sayin’?”
She bit the inside of her bottom lip, unsure if he really wanted to be reminded.
“I couldn’t hear most of it,” she told him finally. “But you weren’t having a good time, I know that much.”
Grunting deep in his throat, Booker ran his palm over his face.
Just as she was about to ask if he wanted to talk about it, he extricated himself from their tangle of limbs and sat up.
Bloody Sunset Page 2
