Far Series (Book 1): Far From Home

by Mary, Kate L.

  Eventually, Devon extracted himself from the hug. “I’m glad to be here, believe me. But we’re not in the clear yet. We still have a long way to go, and we need to be prepared. Which means teaching people to shoot.”

  His gaze moved over the group, and he frowned like he wasn’t sure how to proceed. I got it. Mike was ten, and Randall had the mentality of a child. Should we teach them? Before all this, I would have thought it was ridiculous, but now I wasn’t sure. What if something happened to the rest of us, and they were left alone? They needed to know how to defend themselves.

  “I think you should teach everyone,” I said, looking from Buck to Devon to Lisa for confirmation.

  They were the ones who knew about guns, so I would leave it up to them, but to me, it seemed irresponsible to ignore what could happen.

  Devon looked at Buck. “What do you think?”

  “I think it couldn’t hurt to teach the basics.” His mouth pressed together as he looked at Mike, then nodded as if agreeing with his own statement. When he focused on Randall, his expression wavered, but not a lot. “It could save us one day.”

  Miller had been leaning against the car, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, but he stood up straight when Buck’s meaning sank in. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I think he’s right,” Lisa said. “I’m not saying we arm them—”

  “Good,” Devon interrupted, “because we don’t have enough guns to do that.”

  Lisa frowned and nodded. “That’s something else we need to address. In the meantime, though, they should at least know how to use a gun if the time comes.”

  “Her, too?” Miller asked, pointing at Lexi.

  “No. She’s too young. But there’s no reason Mike and Randall can’t know the basics.” Devon turned his back on the corporal and focused on me. “Pop the trunk for me, will you?”

  I did as I was told, then stood back while Devon dug through the supplies.

  When he pulled my pink hardcover suitcase from the trunk, he shot me a grin, and acting like he’d never seen it before said, “I’m assuming this is yours?”

  “You know it’s mine,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Even if I hadn’t seen it before, I would have known.”

  “Because it’s pink?”

  “Because it’s pink.” He winked, but then grew serious. “I want to use it, but you should know it might end up with holes in it.” His gaze flicked behind me to where the others stood talking. “Scratch that. It will end up with holes in it.”

  “I don’t think there’s much in there I’m going to need in the near future,” I said.

  The thought was depressing, but true. I had flip-flops and tiny tank tops, a couple dresses, even. I couldn’t imagine wearing any of that stuff in this world. Talk about making me vulnerable to a zombie bite.

  Devon gave me a sympathetic smile, almost like he could read my mind, then grabbed a couple cans and turned to the others. “Who wants a snack?”

  At first, I didn’t understand why he’d switched gears so fast, but I didn’t question him as he began to hand out canned fruit. Lexi beamed when she saw the mandarin oranges, and Randall chatted away, telling Lisa all about how his mom used to give him a bowl of peaches with every meal. I got the fruit cocktail—with extra cherries—and tore it open, thankful that whoever had packed all this stuff we’d scavenged from the motel had bought the cans with pop tops.

  “Too bad we don’t have spoons,” I said as I stared down at the syrup packed fruit.

  “Do this.” Lisa set her can down so she could bend the lid, then scooped up a peach and popped it into her mouth.

  “Nice,” I said, smiling.

  I mimicked her while Kiaya helped Lexi bend her lid before doing the same with her own, and after that, we were all silent as we shoveled sugary fruit into our mouths. Devon was the first to finish, having simply dumped the contents of his can into his mouth instead of bothering to create a spoon, and I was still trying to dig the last few cherries out of mine when he dragged my suitcase down the street, his now empty can in one hand.

  He stopped about twenty feet away and set his can on top, then turned to face us. “I need some more cans whenever you’re ready.”

  Now I got what he was doing.

  Buck, who hadn’t put the M16 down for a second, headed Devon’s way with his own can clutched in his hand.

  I was a few steps behind, dumping the rest of the fruit into my mouth as I walked, and stopped beside the two men just as Buck slid the M16 from his shoulder.

  “I recommend not letting this out of your sight,” he said as he passed it to Devon. “Miller’s already made a few comments about who he thinks it rightfully belongs to.”

  Devon took it, frowning. “Why the hell doesn’t he have one? If he was working at one of the checkpoints, there would have been a few lying around after everyone else died.”

  “That’s a good point.” Buck’s mouth turned down into an exaggerated frown as he looked back to where Miller stood, away from the group. Scowling. “I hadn’t thought about it before.”

  “You think he’s lying?” I asked, looking between them.

  Devon’s eyes clouded over. “I don’t know why he would.”

  “Power,” Buck replied, turning back to face him. “People bowed to his every wish the second he showed up simply because he was in uniform.”

  “Well, that’s not happening in this group.” Devon threw the M16 over his shoulder before slapping Buck on the back. “Thanks for saving my ass, by the way.”

  “I think you woulda been all right, regardless, but you’re welcome.”

  Devon just nodded, but his expression said he wasn’t so sure.

  Once we had several cans lined up on top of my suitcase, we headed back to the car. I scanned the distance as we walked to be sure nothing was moving. Since we were literally in the middle of nowhere, it was a long shot, but we needed to stay alert and ready. Just in case.

  “Okay,” Devon said, raising his voice so he could be heard over the quiet chatter. “We want to make this fast so we can get back on the road, but while we’re here, I want everyone to learn to shoot.” His gaze flicked to the kids. “Except Lexi.”

  Miller grumbled to himself again.

  Devon ignored him and focused on me when he said, “Who’s first?”

  “I’ll go.” I raised my hand like I was in school, then felt stupid when his lips twitched.

  The amused expression was gone in a second, though, and he was waving me forward, holding the 9mm out to me.

  I took it, once again marveling at the weight, and moved forward.

  “You know the basics,” he said, “but remember the safety. On when you are carrying the gun, off the second you see trouble. Never put your finger near the trigger unless you’re ready to shoot, and don’t ever point the gun at anything you don’t want dead. Got it?”

  I nodded.

  “Good,” he said. “Now, step up and give it a shot. Line the sights up the way I told you to.”

  I did as he said, holding the gun steady and lining the sights up the way Devon had shown me before. A few seconds later, I pulled the trigger. The clap of the gunshot rang through the air, and the scent of gunpowder filled my nostrils, but I barely registered it. I was too focused on the hole in my suitcase. It was below the can I’d been aiming at and to the right, which totally sucked. If that had been a zombie’s head, I would have gotten him in the cheek, maybe. Not the brain. We hadn’t had a lot of opportunities to test the zombie killing theory out yet, but at this point, we were all assuming it had to be a headshot. Which meant the thing would still be stumbling toward me.

  “Try again,” Devon said.

  I nodded as I lifted the gun once more, lining up the sights and taking a deep breath. I blew it out, trying to relax, and concentrated. This time when I pulled the trigger, the bullet hit the can. It flew from the top of the suitcase and clanged against the pavement.

  I lowered the gun, smiling, and tur
ned to Devon.

  “Good,” he said, but his own smile was small. “Try again. This time try to get three cans with three shots. One after the other.”

  I lifted the gun again, taking aim, and fired off a shot. The first bullet missed, so I fired again, and this time the can went flying. I moved to the second and fired, and it joined the other can on the ground. The next shot was wide, but I managed to get the final can with the next bullet.

  “Good,” Devon said again. “A zombie’s head will be a bigger target, but it will also be moving. You’re going to have to take your time and be ready to fire off a second shot if you miss. Don’t hesitate, and don’t let your guard down.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  Finally, he smiled, his eyes twinkling just a little. “You did a good job. How does it feel?”

  “Weird because I never thought I’d fire a gun.” I looked down at the weapon in my hand. “But good, too. I don’t want to be useless.”

  When I lifted my gaze to his, he gave me a sympathetic smile. “You’re not useless, Rowan. You’re unprepared. The only way you’d be useless was if you refused to even try to change.”

  His gaze moved past me, and I didn’t have to turn to know he was looking at Miller.

  “I didn’t know how to make him stay behind,” I said.

  “I get it.” Devon exhaled. “Hopefully, he proves to be less of a pain in the ass than I think he’s going to be, although that’s a long shot.”

  “I know,” I said, sighing.

  Miller looked up and frowned when he saw us staring at him. “You two about done? We need to get on the road.”

  Devon shook his head and turned away, ignoring him. “Who’s next?”

  I passed the gun to Kiaya when she came over, and she took my place next to Devon. Like me, she already knew the basics since she’d been carrying a gun for a few days now, and before I’d even made it back to the others, the bang of a gunshot had made me jump.

  I let out a little laugh when my gaze met Lisa’s. “It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did.”

  “I think you’re wrong,” she said. “It should surprise you. Call me crazy, but I hope we never reach a point where the sound of a gunshot becomes a normal part of life.”

  “Good point.” I leaned against the car next to her and scanned the area as I said, “How’d you learn to shoot?”

  She didn’t answer immediately, and I heard her swallow before saying, “I was sexually assaulted a few years ago.”

  My gaze snapped to her, but I said nothing. She was scanning the distance like I had been a second ago, but I knew she was only partly keeping a lookout.

  “It was a few months after my divorce. I was in a parking garage late at night after a long shift, and this guy came out of nowhere. I never saw him. Never got a single detail about him that would have helped the police find him. After that, being alone scared the shit out of me.” She shook her head. “I went to a support group, and someone suggested I get a gun. At first, I thought it sounded nuts, but then I went to a shooting range with her, and it actually made me feel better. More in control. It was an illusion, and I knew it, but I didn’t care. I’ve been going to a shooting range nearly every weekend since then.”

  “Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “And you took your gun with you to California?”

  “Actually, no. The one time it would have really come in handy, and I didn’t have it.” Lisa laughed. “I went to a gun store after I got my papers. Had to pay four times the retail value.”

  “It’s lucky you did that,” I said.

  She snorted. “No shit.”

  Kiaya finished and headed our way, and Hank had taken her place with Devon. Behind him, Randall and Mike stood listening to Buck as he explained how to use the gun. I’d agreed with it, but I still cringed inwardly when he passed the gun to Mike. Seeing it in the hands of a ten-year-old felt so wrong, but so did the idea of him not being able to defend himself.

  “That retard is going to blow someone’s head off,” Miller said from behind me.

  Lisa and I both spun to face him.

  “What’s wrong with you, Miller?” she snapped, while I just glared.

  He snorted. “What’s wrong with me? You guys are arming kids and retards.”

  My back stiffened as I curled my hand into a fist. I could punch him. I should punch him.

  “We’re preparing them in case something bad happens, not arming them,” I said through clenched teeth.

  Miller only rolled his eyes.

  He walked off, leaving Lisa and me alone.

  “We should have left him at the motel,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Lisa replied, “maybe.”

  Kiaya stopped next to us. “Everything okay?”

  “Miller,” I said, knowing I wouldn’t have to give any more of an explanation.

  Her frown deepened. “Am I the only one who thinks it’s strange that it never occurs to him to pull his gun? I mean, back at the motel when the zombies were climbing the stairs, he was the last to start firing.”

  “No,” I said, “you’re not alone. Everything about Miller is strange, but that especially.”

  “You can say that again,” Lisa mumbled.

  “We should be to Indy by morning,” I said, switching gears. “Are you ready for this?”

  Kiaya shrugged, her frown growing darker. “I don’t know if that’s possible. Are you ready to get home?”

  “Yes,” I said, then shook my head, “and no.”

  I had no idea what to expect when we got there, and since cell service seemed to be down for good—I hadn’t had a signal since leaving Vega—it was impossible to guess. Although the state of the other towns we’d gone through was a big clue, as much as I hadn’t wanted to admit it.

  “No matter what,” Lisa said firmly, “I’ll be here. For both of you.”

  She took my hand in her right one and Kiaya’s in the left, giving both a squeeze. It was a comfort even if we barely knew one another, because it reminded me that even if my mom was gone, I wasn’t alone. I had people to lean on, and people who needed to lean on me.

  “Thanks,” I said, returning the squeeze even as I focused on Kiaya. She seemed just as comforted by Lisa’s words as I was.

  21

  “You’re in the back,” Devon said when Miller opened the Civic’s front door. “Rowan’s up front.”

  The corporal frowned but didn’t argue, although he looked on the verge of exploding when he slid in the back. He was behind me, and Hank was already situated in the middle. On the other side of the car, Devon passed the M16 to Buck, and the look they exchanged said they were both growing more concerned about Miller by the minute. I couldn’t blame them.

  Before getting into the passenger seat, I looked back at the SUV. Lisa was behind the wheel again and Kiaya was getting Lexi buckled in. She looked my way once she’d shut the back door, giving me a shaky smile. We still had a good thirteen hours or so of driving before we got to Indy, and we’d have to drive through the night, something none of us were looking forward to, but we’d be there in no time, and we both knew it. Soon we’d learn the fates of the people we’d traveled all the way from Phoenix to find. It couldn’t come soon enough.

  Devon already had the car running when I slid in, and he gave me a tense smile when I pulled the door shut. A second later, we were driving, and I watched in the side mirror as the SUV pulled onto the road behind us.

  “Tell me if you need me to take a turn driving,” I said, turning to Devon.

  “I will.” He smiled. “Although I doubt I’d be able to rest even if I wasn’t behind the wheel.”

  “You’re not the only one,” I replied.

  Buck made a sound that said he agreed, and I looked back to see both him and Hank nodding. Miller, however, didn’t respond. He was pressed as close to the door as possible, staring out the window. The more time I spent around him, the more he seemed like a spoiled child, and I couldn’t get Devon’s observation about the M16 out of my
head. It just didn’t make any sense.

  “Tell us about yourself, Miller,” I said.

  He jerked like I’d startled him and tore his gaze from the window, focusing on me. “What do you want to know?”

  “Anything. I mean, I just realized we don’t even know your name. It seems strange to keep calling you Miller.”

  He pressed his lips together, looking at me for a moment before glancing toward Hank and Buck. They were both watching him as well. The expression on the teen’s face was simply curious, but Buck looked downright suspicious.

  “Marcus,” Miller finally said. “Marc.”

  “Nice to meet you, Marc,” I lied, forcing out a smile. “So, where were you stationed before all this?”

  He ground his teeth before saying, “A base in Texas.”

  “Aren’t Army forts called posts?” Devon asked, glancing back.

  “Yeah,” Miller said a little too quickly. “But most civilians don’t know that. It’s easier to say base.”

  “Makes sense.” I plastered the smile on my face. “Where are you from originally?”

  “Delaware,” he said, and something about his tone made it seem like it was the first true thing he’d said this entire time. “But it’s been a long time since I was home. I joined the Army right out of high school and never looked back. I don’t like to talk about it, but let’s just say I didn’t have the best childhood.”

  I lifted a hand as if stopping him. “Say no more. I get it.”

  He nodded, but it was tense, and his gaze darted around like he was trying to figure out how to escape a dangerous situation. “What about the rest of you? I know nothing about what you did before this or where you’re from.”

  “Well, you kind of know about me since we’re headed to my house in Ohio, but Kiaya and I were at the University of Phoenix. We met Devon on the road.” I nodded to Hank. “We picked Hank up in Amarillo.”