by Kate L. Mary
I took a couple throbbing steps before reality sank in and I yanked my hand out of his. “No.”
Kellan spun to face me, his brown eyes wide and more terrified than I’d ever seen them. “We have to go. Now!”
“There’s no point.” Tears filled my own eyes, blurring his face, and I fought to hold them back, knowing it would only make things more difficult.
“Don’t.” Kellan took a step toward me, his hand out, reaching for me. “Don’t say that. Don’t, Regan.”
“Kellan, I—”
He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my elbow in a punishing grip. “You will come with me. You will come back to the shelter. Do you hear me?”
Something in his tone made it impossible to argue, and when a group of zombies broke through the trees at our side, I allowed Kellan to pull me forward.
We charged into the trees, in the opposite direction of our car, while at our backs the horde growled and snarled. I was barefoot, running over jagged rocks and prickly plants that left microscopic stickers in my skin. My ankle throbbed with every step, but even worse was the knowledge that the zombies were still behind us and I was slowing Kellan down. At our backs the dead moaned as they barreled through the brush, either a newer strain or recently turned, because they were faster than they should have been. And I was putting Kellan’s life in danger.
“Kellan,” I gasped. “You have to leave me.”
“No.” He moved faster, pulling on me harder, not looking back.
“I’m dead weight,” I screamed, throwing the words he’d said to me eight years ago in his face. “I’m going to get you killed.”
“Shut up,” was his only response.
We kept moving, but I was in too much pain—both physically and emotionally—to register where we were going until we’d burst out of the trees and onto a road. The farmhouse came into view, only the top of the roof visible through the trees and thick weeds, and Kellan finally stopped. He was panting and drenched in sweat when he scooped me into his arms, but when he started running again, he didn’t even seem winded.
Adrenaline, I realized. This was what adrenaline did to a person.
The dead were still behind us when we burst into the farmhouse. Kellan set me down and dashed across the room, pushing the couch aside so he could pry the loose floorboards up and retrieve the weapons we’d long ago stashed there. Then he was out the door, gun and knife in hand, and I watched him from where I stood in the middle of the room, gasping and sobbing as a pool of blood collected on the floor at my feet. He was like a wild animal, taking the zombies out one after the other, roaring in either triumph or fury each time his blade sank into a skull.
By the time he turned back to me, his face and arms were splattered with black blood, and his shirt was dotted with the stuff like he was a canvas instead of a man. Kellan’s shoulders heaved as his eyes met mine, and that was when I collapsed.
“Regan.” A hand moved over my forehead, gentle and as soothing as the voice of the person calling my name. “Wake up.”
I fought to pull myself from the black abyss, feeling like I was climbing out of a hole deeper than the Grand Canyon. My eyes fluttered, light penetrating the darkness surrounding me, and when I shifted, pain pulsed up my ankle.
Then I remembered.
“No.” I bolted upright, reaching for Kellan even though I should have been pushing him away.
I was on the couch, and he was kneeling next to me, and I only managed to grab his shoulders. I wanted to pull him up with me, to have him wrap his arms around me, but I didn’t dare do it because I was too afraid I would attack him.
“It’s okay,” he said. “You’re okay.”
But I wasn’t.
I forced myself to look at my ankle for the first time. The bite was on the inside of my leg, throbbing, the blood smeared across my skin making it impossible to get a good look at it. Not that it mattered. A scratch from an infected person was a death sentence. There was no coming back from a bite.
“You need to take care of me,” I said, still looking at the bite, unable to force myself to meet Kellan’s gaze while asking him to do the unthinkable.
He stood, pulling himself from my grasp, and took two steps back like it would separate him from reality. “No.”
“Kellan,” I whispered.
I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to force myself to be strong. This was the deal. This was what we had to do. He couldn’t take me back to the shelter and risk everyone we loved.
My eyes were still closed when I said, “You need to end it now. Before I turn.”
“You could be okay,” he replied.
A half-laugh, half-sob forced its way out of me. “That’s not how it works.”
Kellan grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. “People can be immune. You know that. We all know that.”
“It’s a one in a million chance.”
“Well, I’m not doing anything until we know for sure.” The words had to push their way through his clenched teeth. “Understand? I promised your brother I would take care of you, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
I nodded because talking him out of it would be impossible. Plus, there was a part of me, no matter how small, that couldn’t give up hope. Other people had survived bites. I could be one of the lucky ones. It could happen. It could.
Kellan released my shoulders and let out a deep breath. “Okay. We need to get it cleaned. That’s the first thing we do.”
“Then what? We left everything at the river, and the car is who the hell knows where.”
“We wait. We have supplies here, and in seventy-two hours Jasper will come looking for us. We have protocol for a reason. If we follow it, everything will be okay.”
I gave him a teary-eyed smile. “Get to it, then, fearless leader.”
Kellan didn’t return my smile before heading into the kitchen, and once he was out of sight, the shaky smile I’d been clinging to melted away.
After he cleaned and bandaged the wound, there was nothing for us to do but wait. There was no clock in the farmhouse, but it seemed like I could hear the seconds ticking away as outside the sun sank lower and the sky grew dark, and I waited for the telltale symptoms to show up. It was tough to say what would happen since there were so many different strains now, but most of the time lethargy was the first sign that the virus was working.
Only…nothing happened.
“How do you feel?” Kellan asked like he did every ten minutes.
“Fine.”
Each time I told him I was still okay, his hope built. I could feel his hope growing. Mine was, too, but I was trying not to cling to it too hard. This virus was unpredictable, and these days hope was as flimsy as a piece of tissue paper that had weathered a storm.
“I’m tired,” I said through a yawn.
Kellan, either keeping watch or unable to settle down, had been pacing in front of the window, but moved to my side at my words. “Sit up.”
I did as I was told, and he took a seat where my head had been before motioning for me to lie back down. Laying my head on his lap wasn’t awkward because we’d been here before, dozens of times. Either like this or with my head leaning against his shoulder while we watched TV, or even using him as a pillow while in the car. It was natural. Normal. Just a part of life for us.
Still, as his hand moved over my head, his fingers threading through my hair, I found myself replaying that moment by the river. Thinking about how my body had reacted to him, studying his features now as he stared down at me in silence. Did I have feelings for Kellan? If I got out of this alive, would I bring it up?
It was something I’d have to think about later, because thinking about it now was premature. Dangerous.
“Sleep,” Kellan whispered. “I’ll keep an eye on things.”
I allowed my eyes to close, pretending he was only referring to the dangers lurking outside the farmhouse and not the virus working its way through my bloodstream.
The next day dawned, bringing with it throbbing pain, but no sign that I was in danger of turning. Kellan cleaned the bite and changed my bandages, and we snacked and talked, neither of us daring to mention what was happening. What had started out as a seed of hope had now sprouted and bloomed, but I still couldn’t bring myself to say the words out loud, afraid everything would come falling down around me if I did.
Again the sun set, and again I rested my head on Kellan’s lap and slept, waking the next morning to pain, but no unquenchable desire to sink my teeth into human flesh.
Kellan, my head still resting on his lap, was staring down at me when I opened my eyes. “You’re okay?”
“I’m okay,” I whispered.
He let out a long breath, and for the first time in two days, laughed. “I can’t believe it.”
“Me neither.”
I wanted to say more, but the tears clogging my throat made it impossible, so instead I simply sniffed and returned his smile.
The third morning, I woke to the sound of a car door shutting. Kellan, who was already up, pulled his gun and moved to the door, not relaxing until he’d peered out into the yard.
He let out a deep sigh. “It’s Jasper and Blake.”
“Thank God,” I said.
Kellan didn’t look back at me before pulling the door open. “Are we glad to see you!”
“Us?” Jasper stomped into the house a second later and looked around, grinning when he saw me on the couch. “I haven’t slept for two days. You know what that does to a man my age?”
“You’re like an ox.” Kellan was staring past him, out into the yard, when he slapped Jasper on the shoulder. “What’s Blake doing?”
“Pouting. He and Emma broke up. Can’t say I’m not relieved, but I still feel for the boy.” Jasper was shaking his head when he stopped next to me, and when his gaze moved down, stopping on my bandaged ankle, his smile melted away. “What’d you do?”
“You aren’t going to believe it, but I was bitten,” I said, smiling so he’d know it was a good outcome.
Jasper’s body stiffened until he looked like a statue. “Bitten?”
“Yeah.” I paused, but he didn’t move, and I couldn’t help wondering if he didn’t understand the implications of what I’d just said. “By a zombie.”
Kellan moved to Jasper’s side. “She’s immune. Can you believe it?”
Out in the yard, a car door slammed, and Jasper jolted out of whatever trance he’d been in, glancing toward the door like he thought we were about to be ambushed.
“You listen here.” He grabbed Kellan’s arm and pulled him down so they were both kneeling next to me, and, lowering his voice, said, “It never happened. Got it?”
“What?” Kellan asked as I said, “Jasper, it’s okay”
“It. Never. Happened,” he repeated, emphasizing each word to give them weight. “It’s important. Swear to me that you’ll tell no one about this.”
“Why?” I asked. “What are you worried about?”
Blake’s footsteps pounded against the porch.
“Swear,” Jasper hissed. “No one else finds out about this.”
I couldn’t understand why he was determined to keep it quiet, but something about the wild look in his eyes forced a nod out of me.
“Okay,” Kellan replied.
“I won’t tell anyone,” I said.
Jasper nodded once and hauled himself to his feet as Blake stepped inside.
“So what kind of dramatic event led you to the farmhouse?” he asked.
Jasper waved to my bandaged ankle, his face a mask of unconcern. “Sprained ankle.”
“And a horde,” Kellan piped in. “We got ambushed and made a run for it. Regan sprained her ankle while we were trying to get away.”
“Luckily, we weren’t far from here,” I added.
Blake snorted. He had his ratty old hat pulled down low, but it couldn’t hide his puffy eyes. He’d been crying.
“Well, shit,” he said. “I guess the car’s okay, then?”
“Yup.” Kellan’s voice was as smooth as butter. “We’ll have to pick it up on the way back.”
“All right.” Blake was already heading back outside. “Let’s get a move on.”
When he was gone, Jasper gave Kellan and me another serious look, and dread pooled in my stomach, but it also cemented the promise I’d made. I didn’t know why it was important to Jasper that we keep the bite quiet, I just knew it was. He’d saved my life and been like a second father to me, and if this was what he wanted, I’d give it to him. Even if I didn’t understand.
1
My eyes were still closed when I rolled over and slid my hand across the king size bed in search of Kellan. He was gone, though, his side cold like he’d abandoned it some time ago. I stretched, trying to wake up, but my body was tired and sore, my muscles finding it difficult to uncoil the way they usually did in the morning.
Why did I feel hung over?
Memories from the day before came back in a rush, threatening to take my breath away. Saving Kellan, going to the Quartz Mountain settlement, heading to the ruined farmhouse to get the car. The men ambushing us. Andrew’s hands on my body and the harsh reality of having to sacrifice Harper. Jasper’s death.
All of it, all the horrible, terrifying, heartbreaking moments were overshadowed by what had happened next, though. Kellan and me, here in bed. Naked. Kissing. His whispered confession of love.
It seemed unreal, but the sweet ache between my legs and the fact that I was naked told me it had really happened. After almost twenty years of knowing each other, nine years of the apocalypse, and a year of me pining for my brother’s annoying best friend, it had finally happened.
That wasn’t all that had happened, though. Harper was gone, off with a group of men determined to drag her back to Atlanta against her will. What awaited her there was impossible to guess—we only had rumors about the new government to go on—but whatever it was, it wasn’t what she wanted, and we needed to do something before it was too late.
I rolled out of bed, shivering from the chilly air rushing out of the vents, and flipped on the bedside lamp. Light flooded the room, and I squinted, but by the time I’d crossed to my dresser, my eyes had adjusted enough to allow me to see.
I pulled out a pair of army green pants that were a little more snug than I liked—beggars couldn’t be choosers, and clothes were hard to come by these days—and a tank top. It was late May now and blisteringly hot, but the pants were a necessity, because not only would they help protect my legs from anything we might run into, but they would also conceal the scar on my ankle.
As usual, I stared at it as I stepped into the pants, and a flood of memories came rushing back. It looked tiny now, yet at the time it had felt more devastating than the virus itself. My finger brushed the crescent scar as I pulled the pants up, tracing it, and pain throbbed through my chest when I thought about how Kellan had acted that day. How he’d refused to believe I could die, and how he’d clung to hope even though I’d had none. Never before had I been able to see his emotions with as much clarity as I did now, had never realized how much seeing that bite and thinking it might be the end for me had torn him up, because even a year ago, he’d been harboring feelings for me. I couldn’t believe it.
Suddenly desperate to be near him, I dressed and practically ran from the room. My sock-clad feet sank into the thick carpet as I headed through my condo, only stopping by the front door long enough to pull on my boots. Once in the hallway, I moved faster, the pounding of my feet against the stairs for some reason making my heart beat harder. The hall lights were on, but the shelter seemed abnormally quiet, even more so than it had three years ago after most of our family had been killed by a woman desperate to take over our shelter. I could remember walking around in a daze for weeks, so surrounded by silence that it felt like my hearing had been stolen from me. It felt like that now as I headed up the stairs, the quiet halls seeming to yell out to me with their silence, scre
aming for relief from the emptiness that had fallen over them.
It also brought to mind what Jasper had said yesterday as he was dying. He’d said we’d been wrong to shut everyone out. Yes, we’d had good reasons—it was hard trusting people these days, and we hadn’t wanted to put anyone else at risk—but he was right. We had so much more than most people, and the ability to help so many, and yet we’d kept it to ourselves.
By the time I burst into the common room, the silence was threatening to crush me. I’d been hoping to find someone there—Emma, maybe, curled up on the couch reading, or Blake, recovering from his injury and possible concussion—but it was empty and as cloaked in silence as everything else.
I headed past the bar to the computer room we now used for storage, and then up to the industrial hallway where the control room sat. The cement walls and floors made it seem colder here, and the exposed pipes and wires only added to the feeling, giving off an impersonal and unwelcoming vibe. At the end of the hall, the door to the holding cell stood open, its interior dark but seeming to call out to me, reminding me that Harper needed our help.
The door leading into the control room was open as well, but I stopped outside to find it empty. The chair, pulled out but uninhabited, sat in front of the wall of monitors while lights flashed like they were trying to tell me something. My heart sped up again, thumping in tune with their blinking as I moved into the room, scanning the monitors.
Outside, the sun was up, and the goats milled around the fenced in area as if welcoming the new day, but they weren’t what caught my attention. The gate was.
It was closed but unlocked, the chain that usually secured it lying discarded on the ground, the lock beside it. I stared at the image for a moment, frozen in place like I had no idea what I was seeing, before searching the other monitors for some sign of what was happening. My heart started beating faster, and my armpits dampened while a million horrible scenarios played through my head, so that when I finally spotted the guys, it took a moment to register what I was seeing.
