“Which means we’re going to have to head out for supplies soon,” Kiaya said.
“Yeah,” Devon replied, but he was still looking at me.
That first night home, he’d given me a pep talk, and I’d told myself I could do this. Told myself I could be strong, but in the face of this, knowing how little we had and how unprepared we were, I couldn’t grab hold of the same certainty. I wasn’t built for this world. I’d been an only child and coddled, had never had to work, never had to struggle, never had to fight. My parents had made sure I’d grown up in a cocoon of security, but now the safety that had always surrounded me was gone, and I didn’t know how to fit into this new reality. Didn’t know for sure if I could.
“Rowan?” Devon said, his voice low and soothing.
I swallowed, trying to push my fear and uncertainty down. It almost got stuck in my throat.
“We’ll have to go out.” My voice sounded foreign in my ears.
He nodded, but worry flashed in his blue eyes.
Kiaya took my hand, and I had the urge to curl into her the way I used to curl into my mom when I was little and scared or sick or tired. It was stupid. We were the same age. Still, it made sense. She was stronger than I was.
“Where are the others?” she asked. “Lisa and Miller?” Her gaze flicked to the small doorway that led into the dining room. “We saw Buck already.”
Devon followed her gaze, his expression clouding with worry and making my own concern resurface. He let out a deep sigh and ran his hand down his face, and the flickering candlelight left shadows on his features, creating circles under his eyes. Or maybe they were really there.
“Have you slept at all?” I asked, once again thinking about how he’d been sitting next to my bed when I’d awoken. He’d stood watch at the motel in Shamrock the night before we left, and then driven all night to get us here.
“I’ll sleep later.” He waved his hand as if trying to push aside my worry.
“Devon,” Kiaya said before I could, “you can’t go without sleep.”
He gave her a grateful smile, and for some stupid reason, my insides tightened. It wasn’t jealousy, not really, because he wasn’t interested in her. It was more like I wanted to see the same expression in his eyes when he looked at me. I didn’t want every glance he gave me to be full of concern.
“To answer your question,” Devon said, “Miller is asleep in the basement, and I think Lisa is in the garage.”
Kiaya glanced toward the door that led into the garage. “What’s she doing out there?”
“Not sure.” Devon shrugged, his focus already back on the food.
“I’m going to check on her.” Kiaya took a small step backward. “See if she needs help with anything.”
“Good idea.” He nodded but didn’t look up. It was like he thought if he stared at the food long enough, he could make it multiply.
Kiaya shot me a worried look before turning away.
I didn’t watch her leave, though. I was too focused on Devon. He was still messing with the food. He couldn’t stop touching the cans and jars, couldn’t stop shifting them around or organizing them, and it was starting to look obsessive.
“Devon.” I reached over the counter and grabbed his hand, forcing him to stop.
His skin was warm against mine, his palms calloused, and the touch sent a sizzle of electricity shooting through me.
He lifted his gaze, slowly but not hesitantly, and his blue eyes met mine. He didn’t say anything.
“You should get some rest.” I made my voice come out firm even though it wanted to tremble under his gaze.
“Can’t.” When he exhaled, his exhaustion was apparent in every line of his body. “I’ve always had trouble sleeping when there’s a lot going on, and I can’t seem to get my mind to shut off for even a second. It just spins in circles, going over everything I need to do. Which reminds me.” He didn’t release my hand as he came around the counter to my side. “I should check on your cut.”
Just the mention of the injury made it throb.
It happened in Vega during my first encounter with a zombie. Kiaya and I had wanted to search our recently deceased companion’s belongings for anything that might be useful, but we’d had no idea the dead were coming back. When Kyle attacked, the only weapon we’d had was a lamp. It had broken, though, and in the process of trying to fight zombie Kyle off, a big chunk of ceramic had gotten lodged in my back.
“Devon,” I argued when he released my hand and forced me to turn, “we have a nurse now. Lisa can take a look at it.”
“I gave you the stitches, and I feel responsible for how it turns out.”
I watched over my shoulder as he ran his hands up each side of my waist, moving my shirt out of the way. His expression was serious and focused, and his grip firm, and just like at the Western Motel, my body reacted to the touch. Goosebumps popped up on my skin, and my stomach fluttered the way it had when I was fourteen and had my first real crush.
I still wasn’t sure what was happening between us. It was crazy and ill-timed, but it was also mutual. Meaning there probably wasn’t much we could do to stop it at this point.
“It doesn’t look too bad.” Devon’s breath swept over my bare skin, and I closed my eyes when a shiver ran down my spine. When he spoke again, his voice was a whisper in my ear. “Relax, Rowan.”
I opened my eyes to find his face next to mine, and for a second, words were impossible.
“Will you stop doing this to me?” I whispered once I’d managed to find my voice. “Please?”
Despite the exhaustion in every line of his face, he smiled. “I’m just checking you out.”
“Believe me,” I tried to make my tone light in hopes of downplaying how much he affected me, “I know.”
He let out a low chuckle that echoed through his chest, then let me go. I turned to face him. My shirt was still hiked up in the back, so I pulled it down, all the while eyeing him. Hoping to figure out what he was thinking or feeling. He was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed so his biceps bulged. His expression unreadable in the darkness of the room.
We’d kissed back in Shamrock—or, more accurately, he’d kissed me—more than once, but not since. At the time, a part of me had felt so silly. Who ever heard of romance during the apocalypse? But standing in front of him now, I couldn’t remember why I’d felt that way. There was an undeniable attraction between us, and it wasn’t like the Earth had stopped spinning. Yes, in a way, the world had come to an end, but only the world as we knew it before. Life had continued for some of us, and even if the future we were facing was different than anything we ever could have imagined, some things would never change.
When we’d first met, Devon had driven me crazy, but I hadn’t been able to pinpoint why. Still, from the very beginning, something about him had bugged me, and I’d finally realized what it was. He’d reminded me of my first serious boyfriend, Doug Phillips, who’d dumped me for a cheerleader. I’d been head over heels, and he’d been my first everything. We’d dated most of my sophomore year, had gone to homecoming together, then prom. Then he’d dumped me for Jessie Simpkins a few weeks into my junior year.
At first glance, Devon had the same kind of swagger. He was the muscled guy who worked out more than he drank—a rarity in twenty-something guys these days—and who had the kind of body you’d see on the cover of Men’s Health. But it was more than that. He and Doug both had a cuddly, playful personality that contradicted their broad frames and made them more endearing. After Doug, I’d thought I was immune to that kind of thing. I’d been wrong.
Now that I’d gotten to know Devon more, I didn’t see much of a similarity, but every now and then he’d do or say something that would bring my ex to mind, and that old bitterness would surface. Like now. Staring at me with a smirk that said he could read my mind and knew I was ogling him. Not just that either. It said he knew he deserved to be ogled.
I could feel my defenses going up.
“
What?” he asked when I didn’t say anything for a few seconds, a little smirk on his face.
“Nothing,” I said just as the door to the garage opened and quiet voices floated into the room.
I was more than thankful for the interruption.
Devon frowned, but I ignored him and turned to face Kiaya and Lisa.
“Morning,” Lisa said when they’d stopped in front of us.
She reached back and twisted her brown hair around her hand like she was going to put it in a bun. The action must have been subconscious, because she let it go only a second later and it tumbled to her shoulders in tangled waves.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
Lisa nodded, her bloodshot brown eyes focused on me. “I needed a smoke.”
A smoke?
I hadn’t thought she was the type. She looked too fit to be a smoker, her skin too flawless. Then again, the scent clinging to her wasn’t tobacco. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, but it was more than familiar at this point in my life. I lifted my eyebrows the way my mom would have if she’d caught me doing something morally questionable.
“Call it medicinal.” Lisa shrugged, but she didn’t look the least bit embarrassed. “I have anxiety, and it helps calm me.”
Buck had said a similar thing about the scotch. I wasn’t sure which would end up being more of a hinderance.
“I hope it helped.”
Lisa let out a bitter laugh and once again wrapped her hair around her hand. “Not sure it’s going to be possible to avoid anxiety.”
She had that right.
Footsteps pulled my attention away, and I turned as Buck joined us in the kitchen, the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other. He set the scotch on the counter but didn’t put it away, which nagged at me, and not just because I’d been raised in a house where everything had its place. The action said he was intending to drink more.
“Sun’s comin’ up,” he said, his words thick with Texas twang but not slurred.
“We have some things to talk about,” Devon said, “and we should probably do it before the kids wake up.”
“Probably,” Buck agreed.
“Miller?” Lisa asked, her brown eyes sweeping over us.
We all shifted uncomfortably.
Corporal Miller had been the self-appointed leader of the little group of survivors at the Western Motel in Shamrock, and just so happened to be a huge pain in the ass. I still wasn’t sure why he’d decided to come with us, especially since he’d called us fools for even considering leaving, but he had, and we’d let him, and now we were stuck with him. Even worse was the nagging feeling that he wasn’t being totally truthful about who he was.
Devon exhaled and shook his head. “He’s worthless, but if we leave him out, he’s going to make our lives a living hell.”
“More than he already does?” I asked, my words bitter.
Lisa snorted in agreement.
“I’ll get the son of a bitch,” Buck said.
He headed for the basement door, muttering under his breath as he did, but I didn’t catch a single word.
Lisa was eyeing the few cans and jars on the counter. “Is this all of it?”
“All I could find.” Devon turned his sharp, blue eyes on me. “Unless you can think of somewhere else your mom might have stashed food.”
Stashed food? He had to be joking.
“There was no reason for us to have a big stash of food,” I said with a shrug. “It was just the three of us, and I was away at college.”
Devon shook his head, and even though his annoyance wasn’t really aimed at my parents, I could feel my defenses going up.
Maybe we shouldn’t have come here.
My parents hadn’t exactly been preppers, but somehow, I’d still thought getting here would mean safety. It hadn’t, and now we were faced with the terrifying reality of just how unprepared we were. Maybe everyone—myself included—would have been better off going somewhere else. It was impossible to know, and much too late to make a different decision. Everyone was here because of me. They’d followed me, and now I had to toughen up, because regardless of how horribly unprepared I felt for this world, I only had two choices. Fight or surrender. I wasn’t ready to give up.
“Let’s sit down, at least,” Devon said, nodding to the living room.
He headed off, looking as if he was dragging himself across the room. Lisa and Kiaya followed, but not before grabbing the few candles sitting around the kitchen. The curtains and blinds were closed, making the house pitch black even though Buck had said the sun was coming up, and even the candles we’d managed to find did little to illuminate the room. It gave the house a spooky feeling, and a sudden fear gripped me. It reminded me of when I was young and I’d been certain there was a monster under my bed, just waiting for me to step out so it could wrap its icy fingers around my ankle.
A shudder moved through me, and out of a sudden desperation to see the sun and have some light in the room, I moved to the nearby window and pulled the curtain aside.
The sun was rising in the distance just like Buck had said, slowly illuminating the horizon and turning it brilliant shades of pink and orange and purple. My house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac, and behind it was a small pond, a walking trail encircling it, and beyond that a field. Since there were only a few houses in view, the area wasn’t clogged with the dead like the street out front, but a few shambling bodies were still visible in the distance. They weren’t what made me shiver, though. It was the emptiness of the world. No cars on the street, no lights in the areas that were still cast in darkness, and no noise. Even worse was the pillar of smoke. It was beyond the field and to the right, thick and black as it flowed into the air in a cloud that seemed to grow wider by the second. Was it a house? A business? What had started the fire, and would it spread? Probably. It wasn’t like there was anyone to put it out at this point. Was it close enough to affect us?
I let the curtain drop back into place when footsteps pounded up the stairs at my back. Buck appeared, shaking his head like he and Miller had already exchanged words, with the still sleepy corporal only a couple steps behind him, and the two men headed over to join the others in the living room. I needed to go, too, but I found myself frozen in place, dread weighing me down and making it impossible to move. I wished I was an ostrich so I could stick my head in the ground, which was stupid because the animals didn’t really do that. Not in real life. Still, it would have been nice.
But it was impossible, and what was more, I didn’t want to be worthless.
I exhaled, stretching it out, then sucked in a deep breath as I thought about the two options in front of me. Fight or surrender. I’d come all this way, halfway across the country, and there was no chance in hell I was going to give up now.
It was time to fight.
The flickering candlelight illuminated the worry in my companions’ expressions as I headed over to join them. Devon half-stood from the couch, his hand outstretched like he was considering reaching for me. He didn’t take my hand, though, and once I’d lowered myself onto the couch at his side, he sat back down. He didn’t put his hand in his lap, but instead rested it on the cushion between us. Not palm up the way teenage boys did when they were hoping to hold your hand. No, this was more like he wanted to let me know he was here for me, and it was touching.
Miller stayed off to the side while Buck settled beside Kiaya on the loveseat, and once we were all sitting, he cleared his throat. “Guess it’s time we had a serious talk ‘bout what needs to happen.”
Devon nodded, and Lisa mimicked him. She was across from me, sitting in my father’s favorite old recliner, which my mother had always referred to as the ugliest chair in the world. It was made of soft, brown leather and worn at nearly every crease and edge, and no doubt had about twenty years’ worth of crumbs tucked into the crevices. Just looking at it made my throat tighten.
When our eyes met, Lisa frowned like she could tell exactly what I was thinking. The expression made t
he creases at the corner of her eyes deepen, but as always, I found it impossible to decide how old she was. Somewhere between thirty-four and forty-two, probably. She was a tough lady. Strong and self-sufficient, a nurse and a real survivor. An asset.
I was happy to have her here, but comparing myself to her made me feel totally useless. Which I hated.
“We’re going to have to get supplies. Food and water especially,” Devon began. “Even if there was enough here to last us weeks, we’d have to stock up, but we need more than just food. The few candles we have won’t last long, and it would be nice to have more flashlights and lanterns. Hell, I can list more than a dozen things that would be nice to have.”
Miller frowned as he listened. He stood behind Lisa, leaning against the wall and keeping himself at a distance from the rest of us. As usual. Not that any of us were complaining. We hadn’t invited him along, and so far, he’d been nothing but a hassle, with no sign of that changing any time soon.
“Supplies aren’t the only issue either,” Devon continued. “We need to discuss if this is the right place for us to hole up, and if not, where else we can go.”
“You want to leave,” I said, but it wasn’t a question. He’d told me already, and I expected it, and part of me even agreed, but I still didn’t like it. This was my home.
Devon’s hand was still between us on the couch, and he slid it over until it was resting on my knee. “You have to realize this isn’t the best place for us.”
I glared at Devon, mainly so I wouldn’t burst into tears. They clogged my throat, making talking impossible, and the way he squeezed my knee told me he knew it.
“What do you suggest?” Kiaya asked, drawing our attention to her.
Devon shook his head, his gaze moving from Buck to Lisa. “I don’t know. Somewhere more secluded, maybe?”
“A farm?” Lisa sounded as uncertain as Devon.
Her brown eyes shimmered with fear and doubt, and the expression helped push my anger away. These people had come with us all the way from Texas. They’d trusted that we would work together no matter what, and I couldn’t let them down at the first sign of hardship.
Far Series | Book 2 | Far From Safe Page 2
