A World Alone (Dead World Series Book 1)

by R. K. Weir

  "Did you just have sex?"

  I stare back at her for a moment, taken aback by the frankness of her question. Did I just have sex? What business was it of hers? Her brow arches in query as she folds her arms across her chest. A gust of cool night air seeps in past her and brushes against my bare skin. I take a step back, retreating from the cold as the hairs on my body stand on end.

  I sigh, annoyed and not entirely sure how to respond.

  "What do you want, Stella?" I ask gruffly, reaching out and gripping the frame of the door so as to bar her entrance. She eyes me a second longer before dropping her gaze to the ground with a sigh. Unfolding her arms, she drops them with a swing, her brow lowering as her features pinch in frustration.

  "Aaron wants me to help lead the horde away from here," she says, looking at me as though that explains everything. My grip on the wooden frame tightens as I realize that her visit will not be a short one.

  "So?" I squeeze out through gritted teeth, glancing up at the dark sky behind her. Another breeze blows past her and hits me full force. My muscles tense at the sensation, aggravated by the absence of warmth.

  "So," she says, embellishing the word with as much emphasis as her small frame can possible muster. "That's basically a suicide mission! I'm not gonna risk my life for these people! I barely know them!"

  My brow darts up instinctively, although I'm not entirely surprised by her lack of compassion. She frowns at me in return.

  "Oh don't gimme that look. As far as relationships go nowadays, you and I are pretty close, and I'd still leave you behind in a heartbeat."

  I roll my eyes. "Did you have a point?"

  "Yes I have a point," she stands firmly, once again crossing her arms. "I want to leave."

  She looks at me expectantly, although I'm not entirely sure what it is that she wants. With another sigh, I rub the stubble that has congregated along my chin and throw a glance over my shoulder and towards Rocket. Disentangling herself from the sheets, she moves around the bed, picking up items of her clothing.

  "Okay," I say, looking back at Stella. "Then leave."

  I'm not about to tell her that I was planning on leaving as soon as possible. If she leaves without me, then that's one less problem I have to deal with.

  Her entire demeanor drops. Eyes widening, they gloss over with confusion as her lower lip pouts out in a frown.

  "What?" she asks, her arms slowly unfolding and slipping back to her sides.

  "Leave then," I repeat, the threat of a growl beginning to enter my voice as my patience dangles from a thinning wire. Her hands clench into small fists as another gust of cold air whips past her and into the room. She drops her gaze before quickly snapping back up, her jaw set.

  "You aren't gonna come with me?"

  I huff out a breath of amusement and offer her a glare. "A second ago you said you'd leave me behind in a heartbeat." Her eyes narrow at me now, her brows knitting close together. "So go ahead kid, get lost."

  Stepping back, she throws her gaze away, conflicting emotions dancing across her features. I grit my teeth at the frown that remains present on her lips, but move to close the door anyway. I don't owe her anything. I don't have to feel bad.

  I don't have to feel bad.

  She throws her arm out, the palm of her hand smacking against the door and pushing it back open.

  "Why don't you do it then!" she spits, her voice tainted with an anger I haven't seen before. Her eyes flash at mine, challenging me with a vindictive scowl.

  "What?" I ask, irritation flowing freely through my veins as my knuckles turn white around the frame of the door.

  "Lead the horde away! Why don't you do it if you want to stay so badly!"

  Letting go of the door, I throw my hand in a wild gesture towards the crutch under my arm. "Because my leg is injured!"

  "Oh, but you're well enough to have sex?" Her eyes move to my left, the anger draining from her features and leaving her mouth hanging open.

  Warm air tickles lightly at my shoulder. Stepping to the side, I glance back to find Rocket standing next to me, her gaze flickering between Stella and I.

  "Heyyy . . ." she says, slowly squeezing past me and towards the door, a faltering smile glued to her lips as she continues to look between the two of us. “This is pretty awkward, huh?"

  My eyes flick to Stella, who's looking at Rocket with the same shocked expression as before. With pursed lips, Rocket gives a nod, her eyes dropping to the ground.

  "I'm just gonna . . ." she begins, as she tries to maneuver around Stella who is rooted to the spot, her shocked expression now transferred to me. “Squeeze through here. . ."

  She manages to get around Stella, and turns back to give me a wink. "I'll just leave you guys to talk . . ." she says with yet another nod, before slowly stepping back and disappearing down the hall. I look back to Stella, annoyed to find a mischievous glint in her eyes.

  "What?" I ask.

  She shakes her head, "seriously?"

  "What!" I ask again, louder this time.

  "She's like half your age. . ."

  I scowl down at her.

  She shrugs, "jus' saying."

  "Look," I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I know you think helping people is a weakness, that's what I thought too. Hell, I still think it!" She looks at me skeptically, a frown finding itself on her face. "But that doesn't mean that you never help people. I think you should help them, and if you don't want to, then go right ahead and leave."

  The corner of her lip tugs slightly, as if she was considering a smile but thought against it.

  "Seriously?" she asks. "That's the best you got?"

  "Do whatever the hell you want kid, but I'm staying." Her hand drops from the door and I take the opportunity to slam it shut, ridding her of my sight. I press myself against the wood, resting my forehead against its hard surface.

  Don't feel bad, I tell myself.

  Do not feel bad.

  But as I hear her footsteps fade down the hallway, the familiar tendrils of guilt already have me in their grasp.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Stella

  The urge to throw a punch at his face overwhelms me, and I find it an increasingly difficult temptation to resist. From the other side of the table, he smiles. Leaning back in his chair he folds his hands behind his head and clucks his tongue.

  "Well, well, well," Aaron says, his eyes dancing with an irritating rejoice. "What made you change your mind?"

  I glare down at him, folding my arms across my chest to stop them from trembling. I exhale a sigh in an effort to exude my anger, but my fists continue to shake. He notices this and leans forward, the smile on his lips growing slightly.

  After going to bed last night, I woke up to find Joey at my door, offering me some food and water that he had taken from the main hall. It was his small act of kindness that made me realize – even though it pains me to admit it, and it pains me further to even think the words – Logan was right. Helping these people is the right thing to do.

  But who am I kidding?

  That isn't the main reason I decided to change my mind. They have food and other resources that I can take from them afterwards. They'll probably feel like I deserve it and throw it at my feet. Or if they don't, I can guilt them into giving it to me. Either way, I'm going to make sure that I don't come out of this empty handed.

  Aaron raises his brow, and I realize that I've kept him waiting. With lips tightly pressed together, I struggle to get the words out.

  "Well," I begin, the word barely audible through clenched teeth. He tilts his head, as if to mock me.

  "Well?" he repeats, drawing the word out in a condescending manner, as if he is speaking to a child. My eyes narrow and I realize that there's a better way I can go about this.

  "Actually," I spit, "never mind!" I throw my hands in the air and take a step away from the table. "I've changed my mind again."

  The smile drops from his face as though it had gained a hundred pounds. He th
rows his arm out, just as I begin to turn away.

  "Wait!" he yells, his body practically sprawled half-way across the table. I pause, restraining the smile already tickling at my lips. He pulls himself back slightly, his arm still stretched out towards me. "I'm sorry, okay?" he says genuinely. "I'm glad you've decided to change your mind, for whatever reason."

  I allow myself to smile now, a gesture he returns with a frown. With a small nod I turn back towards him. "So what's the plan then?"

  His lips form into a thin line as he leans back in his chair once again.

  "It's pretty simple really, I'll give you some fireworks and you just have to drive out far enough and start lighting them."

  “Where did you even manage to find fireworks?” I ask.

  “One of the girls found boxes of them on a scavenging run.” He stands up from the table, "I'll get you a car and make sure everything's ready, you can take someone with you if you want. Except Rocket, I need her here in case things go wrong."

  I frown as he begins to turn away. In case things go wrong. I already regret agreeing to this. As he's walking away, he stops and turns back.

  "And thank you," he looks down with a nod, "really."

  My frown only grows. This goes against nearly every rule I've ever thought up. I shake my head.

  This had better be worth it.

  I wait until he's left the hall before I leave myself. The overbearing rays of sunlight weigh down on me in greeting as I cross the small area to the English block. If Logan's too injured to come, and I can't take Rocket, then that only leaves me with one person I know.

  Joey.

  My last choice. Wonderful, I think sardonically. Not that he's a bad guy or anything, in fact he's actually pretty nice now that I think about it. But that doesn't change the fact that he's annoying as hell, and being cooped up with him in a car isn't my ideal scenario. I sigh.

  Someone is better than no one.

  Balling my hand into a fist, I knock on his door, loudly, and take a step back. The last thing I want is a repeat of last night. Folding my arms across my chest, I wait. After a minute I begin to think that he isn't in there, but as I start to turn away, the door swings open.

  He sways gently in the archway, the bags under his eyes redder than usual. His hair stands at messy angles, as though he has just woken up. He sniffs, looking at me expectantly.

  "Hey . . ." I say, the word trailing off into the distance as I look him up and down.

  "Hey," he replies, the word raspy in his throat, like it has been dragged through gravel. A sway rocks him a little too forcefully and his hand shoots out to grab the door frame in support. I eye him warily.

  "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah," he looks up, his eyes appearing distant, like he can see something I can't, the blue of an ocean that isn't there reflecting in his eyes. He looks at me now, as if seeing me for the first time. He attempts a smile, but falls short into his usual crooked grin. "Just a little sick."

  My nose wrinkles at the chemical smell on his breath, almost like weak vinegar.

  "Were you bitten?" I ask, taking a step away from him.

  "No," he snorts, "no, no, no." He smiles now, making a noise alike to a giggle. I look at him skeptically, my eyes traveling him up and down. He isn't sweating, and he's no paler than usual. I frown at him.

  "Do you want me to get the doctor?"

  He smiles at me, his cheeks flushing. "No."

  My frown deepens as I find my features scrunching up in concern.

  "So what is it that you—" he begins, but stops short, his eyes catching something behind me. The smile drops from his face as his eyes narrow, hardening into a glare. I step aside and follow the direction of his gaze. Through the window I see Rocket driving the bus into the small area of flat concrete between here and the hall. She parks it close to the English block, low hanging branches of a dead tree scraping against its roof.

  As I turn back to Joey, he slams the door in my face and disappears into his room. I jump a little from the noise, and stand outside for another moment, a little perplexed and worried. The poor guy must be feeling really bad. I stand for another moment, wondering if he's gone off to be sick and is coming back, but he doesn't open the door again, and I realize that there's no point in waiting for him.

  I guess that means I'll have to do this thing on my own.

  Stepping away from his door, I turn and skip down the steps just as Rocket steps out of the bus. I stop to greet her, holding a hand up to shield my eyes from the sun.

  "What are you moving the bus inside for?" I ask, as she steps towards its engine to inspect something, leaving the door open.

  "Aaron asked me to move it inside," she explains, "in case anything goes wrong and we need to leave quickly."

  I frown. It almost seems like he expects me to fail. Although I can't blame him for being cautious, it feels a little like he's shoving doubt in my face.

  "He's bringing your car around now, it's the fastest one we got, I tweaked it myself." She points as a car pulls around from the English block and parks in front of the bus. "If I was planning a robbery, and I needed a getaway car," she continues, "that is the car I would want to get me away."

  I frown at the old Mustang as Aaron steps out, unsure of whether she's telling the truth. Its paint is worn and faded from what I can only assume was once a glossy black to a now dusty charcoal. I look back to Rocket as he begins to walk towards us, wanting to ask her before he interrupts.

  "So you and Logan huh?" I ask with a grin. She smiles sheepishly.

  "It ain't nothin' serious." She shakes her head, "gotta have a little fun at the end of the world, right?"

  She throws her head back with a laugh, her orange hair, blinding against the sun, rolling over her shoulders. I laugh with her, shaking my head. Hopefully getting laid will have lightened Logan up a bit, although from our conversation last night it doesn't seem to have had much affect. Our amusement subsides as Aaron reaches us. He gives a curt nod to Rocket before turning his attention towards me.

  "Did you find someone to take with you?" he asks, a bushy eyebrow arching in question.

  "No," I tell him. "I'll have to go on my own."

  He frowns, directing a nod over my shoulder. "Logan isn't going with you?"

  I glance back to find Logan, descending the stairs of the math's block with his crutch struggling to find secure footholds on the steps. I shake my head.

  "No, his leg is too bad." I glance around the area of flat ground as Logan slowly begins making his way towards us. Several people mill about, lugging bags over their backs, clearly preparing for the worst. I guess no one else has much confidence in me either. I look back to Aaron, whose attention is somewhere above my head.

  "Hey, Gale!" he calls. "Come down here!"

  I glance back to see Gale – the gangly man who checked up on Joey and I the night before – standing at the top of the stairs of the English block. He looks down at us through thick rimmed glasses, almost frightened by the attention. He holds his arms close to his chest as he begins to descend the stairs.

  "Gale will go with you," Aaron nods as I look back to him, "he needs to toughen up a bit, only reason I've been sending him on so many scavenging runs."

  "A bit?" Rocket scoffs under her breath as he draws closer, "boy could give the cowardly lion a run for his money." She gives me a look but smiles as he approaches, his brown eyes wide as he peers at the three of us.

  "Gale you're going to accompany Stella and help her with the fireworks," Aaron states, his voice ringing with authority and offering no place for discussion. I look to Gale and repress a frown. I didn't think it possible, but his dark eyes actually manage to widen further as his large glasses swivel in my direction.

  "Oh," he simply says. "I uh, I don't think—"

  "Thank you, Gale, you can go wait in the car," Aaron interrupts, gesturing towards the old Mustang.

  Gale's mouth falls open slightly as he entwines his slender fingers together to stop them fro
m shaking. His lower lip quivers as he glances between Aaron and I, seemingly working up the courage to protest. But he gives up without uttering a word. Bowing his head, he steps between us and walks towards the car. I watch him go, unsure of how I feel about having him as a companion.

  "Everything is set up and ready to go," Aaron tells me after we watch Gale step inside the car. "The fireworks are in the trunk, along with some baseball bats I found in the Gym store room." He hands me a silver lighter that flashes brightly in the sunlight. I pocket it and frown at him.

  "Baseball bats?" I ask.

  He shrugs, returning my frown with one of his own. "It's all I could find on such short notice. Everyone's on edge and no one's willing to lend their weapons."

  I nod, understanding where they're coming from but still a little miffed considering I'm the one putting my neck on the line.

  "The sooner you leave the better," he tells me. I repress the urge to scowl at him, and nod instead. He holds out his hand. I stare down at it for a second before realizing what he's doing. Slipping my hand into his grasp, he leans in and gives it a firm shake. "Again, thank you."

  I nod as he steps back and hands me the keys to the car. He turns to Rocket.

  "I want you to show me the back-up bus." She rolls her eyes at him, as if annoyed.

  "Alright," she agrees, before stepping towards me and placing a hand on my arm. "Good luck, girl."

  I smile back at her as they leave, weighing the keys in my hand. As I look back to the old Mustang, a thought flutters to the forefront of my mind. I have a car. There's nothing stopping me from just driving off. And if it really is the fastest one they have, then it will get me to where I need to go in no time. And I won't have to stop off at Las Vegas. I take a step towards the car, a smile already threatening the corner of my lip.

  "Hey, kid!" I look back, quick to drop the thought and the smile as Logan limps towards me. I wait as he closes the distance, adjusting the crutch under his arm so that he can stand comfortably. "I heard you had changed your mind."

  "Needed to see it to believe it, huh?" I ask. He must have borrowed a razor from someone because he's managed to shave. It's taken years off of him. He smiles down at me smugly, but his eyes are alight with something else.