Rex’s face was ashen. Megan had never seen him so uncertain, so weak-looking. She turned her back on him and walked the length of the bar, taking in everything. She yearned for a just whiff of Alayna’s perfume. She wanted a single sign, beyond the booze, that they’d all been there at all.
“Maybe we should head back to the silo,” Rex said. “It’s bound to be safer for us up there. If we hang out here, the crazed will get to us. It’s only a matter of time …”
“I know. Just—”
Something flashed in the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she saw a notepad on one of the side tables. Alayna’s handwriting—that gorgeous scrawl!
The first collection of words was nothing but a supply list. “Things to bring.” On it was water, food, toiletries, soap. Alayna was eternally practical, the perfect travel partner. Megan remembered it well. And then, beside it, was the word “HELEN” written in large, block letters. It had been circled several times.
Megan turned the notebook toward Rex, her eyes wide. She rammed her finger against the page again and again. “Do you know what this means!?” she exclaimed, more tears finding their way down her cheeks. “Rex!”
Rex took the page and studied it.
“This means they left on purpose. They didn’t die. Not here!” Megan’s words flowed rapidly. “This means, there’s still hope, Rex. And at the end of the world, hope is all we have.”
Chapter 16
Alayna struggled up the steps of the hotel as the sunlight began to filter in from the east. Another wave of nausea overtook her. Glancing back at the others, she gave them a small smile. “All right, everyone. We lived through it. Let’s get some sleep.”
It no longer fazed her how many times she’d had to say, “We lived through it.” It was something always echoing around her head, a reminder of how “lucky” they were to have another morning, another night. With the nanites exploding through her veins, taking up residence in the back areas of her animal brain, she knew she wouldn’t have full control forever.
The gang behind her grunted in return, Clay returned a soft smile. Alayna remembered the terror she’d felt when Clay had tried to go over that fence. She’d run with the adrenaline of an animal, catching his coat and yanking him back. When he was safely back on the ground, she’d recognized how berserk she’d been. Maybe that was the nanites, revealing themselves? How could it be anything else? She’d never been so physically able. So wild.
As she entered the hotel she saw Lane perched on the lobby couch. She jumped up to meet them, hugging Alayna tightly. Alayna wasn’t accustomed to such reactions. Warring emotions were followed by confusion. Lane swiped a tear from her cheek.
“Lane? What’s up?” Alayna asked.
But before she could get out another word, Lane had wrapped her hand around Alayna’s upper arm, guiding her toward the back of the hotel. She heard Sam’s familiar voice greet them, wanting to know what happened. Then Alayna and Lane were out of earshot.
Upstairs in the privacy of Lane’s bedroom, Alayna found herself face to face with an overwhelmed Lane. Lane processed whatever she was preparing to tell Alayna; closing her eyes, biting at her lower lip. With a surge of fear, Alayna realized what Lane was going to say.
“It’s okay,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I already know.”
Lane blinked up at Alayna, her lips parting. “What?”
“I’m positive.” She allowed the words to fall into the space between them, forcing herself to acknowledge this truth.
“Positive—I mean, yes …” Lane began. “How did you—”
“The nanites,” Alayna said. “I felt them, when we were out on the mission. I had a surge of … I don’t know, power? Athleticism, adrenaline, animal instinct—nothing I’ve ever felt before. I knew then that I must be infected with the nanites. That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it? The tests came back positive? I’m infected?”
Lane’s face fell. Alayna felt her stomach clench with grief, recognizing that this was the truth. What she had dreaded was indeed the truth. She straightened trying not to allow herself to tremble at the horror of her new reality. The nanites. They were taking her body. She was only a vessel for their greater mission.
Someday she’d be nothing more than a shell.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t know for sure, though, if you didn’t have a full-blown lab,” Alayna choked out. “So, I thought I had a bit more time before I had to face this …”
“Alayna, no,” Lane said, her voice quivering. “That’s not the news I have for you. You didn’t let me finish. None of you ever let me goddamn finish.”
Alayna felt a wrinkle form between her eyebrows. “Lane, what the hell are you talking about? Just tell me. How long does the doctor say I have before—before everything starts changing? Before I can no longer live as—”
“Alayna! No. Stop this,” Lane said, pulling Alayna’s hands from her face, seeming enraged. “Your blood test showed that you’re positive for pregnancy. You’re going to have a baby.”
Alayna felt the blood drain out from her face. She fell back against the wall, feeling all the air escape her lungs. For a moment, she forgot to breathe. The wave of grief had been replaced with a grey and foggy confusion, a sense that she’d just been forced into another new reality: a place where she didn’t really recognize the rules or understand the language.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re going to have a baby,” Lane said again, lifting her chin.
“There must be a—a mistake …” Alayna whispered.
“Absolutely not,” Lane said.
“Does that mean I’m not infected with nanites?” She asked, her voice softer. “Just pregnant?”
“Like I said, we’re still not sure about the nanites,” Lane replied. Seeming exhausted, she sank on the side of her bed, rubbing her forehead. Her eyes pulled away from Alayna’s, full of their own meaning. “We’re going to need to do further tests. But in the meantime …” She gestured toward the window, which showed another unappealing morning in the town. Grey slabs, empty and devoid of people, thrusting against a too-bright blue sky. “But you’re bringing a human life into this. Which means you have a bit more to worry about than, well, than just the nanites.”
Alayna stewed with that for a moment, feeling the weight of Lane’s words. Sliding her hands across her stomach, she understood for the first time: she had a full, human life within her. She was responsible for this boy or girl: for helping them learn to walk, to talk, to live—and, in order to survive, to murder. To shoot a gun. She glimpsed flashes of their future together, traveling through the darkness of this post-apocalyptic world. And the tears began to course down her cheeks.
She’d never really imagined herself with children. She’d always figured to be an experience she, as a lesbian and occasional bisexual, would never have. And now, at the worst time in all of history, she was with child. Brimming with life, knowing, somehow, that this was the antithesis of the crazed monsters outside the hotel walls.
She would fight forever to keep her child alive. It was enough reason to live.
Chapter 17
“We better join the others,” Lane said, standing and wiping her hands down her front, smoothing out her shirt. She opened the door and Alayna followed her into the hall, in almost a dream state.
“We’ll need to get you on a vitamin regime right away. And I don’t know what your nutritional intake is currently, but we’re going to need to ramp it up. And I mean, exponentially. More protein. More vegetables. Definitely more, more, more …”
Alayna drifted into the community room, feeling light, eager. Alive. Clay was holding court over Hank, Walt, Sam, and Sherman, with a rough drawing of what looked like the camp in the mountains behind him. He gestured at it.
“Now, I saw that there’s some kind of changeover with the guards around midnight, with one of the guards going in to give whoever’s in this tower food,” Clay said.
&n
bsp; “And you’re certain it’s your daughter?” Sam asked. “Because I have to tell you, it seems unlikely.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Sam. Want me to say it’s father’s intuition? Want me to say that I ‘just know?’ At the end of the day, we’re both after the same thing. To kill this asshole. And you weren’t actually at the camp this morning, were you? You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about …”
Clay’s voice tapered off when Alayna came in. She felt her heart burst just at seeing him. Something between them effervesced, in the same way it had that fateful night. Clay’s baby! She touched her abdomen, feeling the weight of this—new family. Nothing else in the world mattered, did it? Just the love between two people, and how that love could create, well, another life.
Clay stuttered slightly, watching as Alayna and Lane sat at the back of the room.
“Out with it,” Sam snapped, tossing her foot over her knee and leaning back, almost masculine. Larger than life.
“Actually, is it cool if we take a break?” Hank asked, reaching his hands behind his back and stretching. He looked lankier than ever. “Most of us haven’t slept in ages. And I know Walt here’s been trying to stay awake for the past twenty minutes. Haven’t you, Walt?”
Walt elbowed Hank, making him jump.
Alayna’s eyes were on Clay, who continued to stare at her. There was a new kind of communication between them, over the heads of the others—unspoken.
“All right. We can take a break,” Clay agreed. He picked up a glass of water and sipped it, his eyes still on Alayna.
The others rose from their chairs, with Sam grumbling about wasted time. Even Lane went, leaving Clay and Alayna alone. Clay closed the distance between them. Their faces were just a foot apart. Alayna felt overwhelming desire. Licking her lips, she waited, sensing Clay was about to say something. Was about to give this meaning.
“Alayna, what’s going on?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” Alayna was coy.
“You just look—different,” Clay said, looking puzzled. “I can’t put my finger on it. I just—are you feeling all right?”
“I feel absolutely wonderful.” She stood and brushed past him, walking toward the kitchen. At the doorway she looked back, knowing she had a new kind of power over him. Even if it was just knowledge. Of knowing they were bringing a child into the world together. She didn’t yet feel ready to share—to say the words aloud.
“I’m just famished, is all,” Alayna said, breaking the tension. “I’m going to grab something and be on my way upstairs for that rest everyone’s talking about.”
Not waiting for a reply, she ducked into the kitchen, feeling her heart hammering in her chest. Deep inside, she imagined she could feel the baby’s heart beating as well, although she knew it was probably impossible.
It was just the bit of hope she needed.
Chapter 18
Much like Brandon remembered from Carterville, Ridgeway had a strange energy field around it—a kind of glowing green halo. He, Marcia, Daniels, and Leland were just at the edge of town, staring at the flickering array, none of them able to verbalize just what a blow this was.
“Damn it,” Marcia said, digging her toe into the dirt.
They’d imagined so much awaiting them in Ridgeway. They’d imagined food, beds, supplies, a reprieve from the road. After walking for days, their legs were straining and their throats were continually dry, parched. Brandon tried to swallow but he couldn’t find the spit.
“Maybe we can find the power source,” Leland said, and started along the energy field. His shoulders were slumped, making him look aged, battered. The bald spot on his head reflected the eerie green light.
But as they scouted the edge of the city, they found no such source. Daniels had begun to bark orders as usual—insisting, “It’s better we get back on the road right now and find another place by nightfall.”
“Fuck that.” Marcia sounded snotty, like a toddler who’d been told to stop. “No way. I know Leland can find the power source. It’s time to get smart about this, Daniels, instead of just running all over the world, flitting back and forth without a real plan.”
After nearly two hours without finding the source, however, Brandon’s heavy feet steered him back toward the road. The others joined him: Marcia didn’t have a snarky comment and even Daniels’ lips were sealed.
The sunlight reflected off the pavement, bouncing back into their eyes, despite the lateness of the afternoon. As they turned the corner toward the main road, Brandon thought he was seeing a mirage: a million slimy worms, crawling toward them along the center of the road. But he realized with a gasp they weren’t worms.
It was them. At least nine, perhaps ten of the crazed, swarming toward them on the road. Feeling the adrenaline of an animal, of prey, Brandon turned and ran, Marcia and Leland on his heels. Daniels lifted his gun and blasted first one, then a second crazed, but soon joined Brandon, Marcia, and Leland in their mad dash back toward Ridgeway. Even as he drove his legs forward, Brandon couldn’t reason why they were heading back toward the town. Perhaps it was because it was the illusion of safety. He could see a water tank on a hill in the distance, he could visualize the church, the school, the very real structures that had constituted a very real life.
Brandon thought his heart would burst, whether from exertion or emotion he, couldn’t say. He’d never in his life wanted to be somewhere more than he wanted to be in Ridgeway. Behind him, he heard the crazed, could almost feel their tongues stretching from their rotting mouths.
On instinct, Brandon reached for a stick from a busted and burnt tree, lifting it into the air.
“What the hell are you doing?” Marcia shrieked.
“Maybe it’s not like the others,” Brandon said. “It’s not as dark as the one around Carterville. You know? Like, maybe not as strong?”
Even as he spoke, Brandon recognized how completely deranged his own thoughts were, fueled by dehydration and fatigue.
“Stop it!” Leland cried, his voice whiny and wild. “You’re being an idiot.”
Daniels thrust himself forward, trying to catch Brandon’s shoulder. But Brandon was sprinting toward the force field with his stick in front of him. He swung it against the forcefield, actually entering it—and seeing the other half of the stick fall. Brandon’s entire body was filled with pain. Energy, life, electricity arced up and down his arms and legs, and he was forced back, slamming his head on the ground when he went down. Dazed, he saw stars, wild stars, swirling in the sky.
And still he could hear the crazed, swarming at them.
“GET HIM UP!” Daniels cried.
Brandon felt hands and arms around his shoulders, lifting him. On his feet, he staggered, watching with bleary eyes as Marcia tried to sweep him of dust.
“WE HAVE TO GET GOING!” Leland cried, his eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. The crazed were no more than twenty feet away now. “RUN! And the way isn’t FORWARD, Brandon!”
Brandon blinked down at the stick, still fizzing at the end. He shambled into a trot then ran in earnest beside the force field, the others behind him. He heard a ZAP to his right. Turning his head, he saw the force field ripped away, leaving only empty space between him and the town.
Swinging toward where the force field had been, Brandon darted into the town. Marcia screamed, “NO!” But Brandon didn’t stop, leaping to safety to the other side.
“What the hell?” Leland cried, and followed him.
With no other option, the others followed. Brandon could still hear the crazed behind them. He gasped, “Are they getting faster?”
Beside him, Daniels huffed agreement. “It’s like they’re more animal, less zombie these days.” He picked up the pace. “We’ve got to go. The force field doesn’t seem to be coming back on.”
But just as he spoke, the green orb around the city flickered to life. The first of the crazed crossed the line—his head bounced on the field but sliced into him just at th
e shoulder blades. His amputated hands hit the ground on the safe side. Green and purple blood splattered the grass, catching the sunlight. Brandon spun at the noise and saw the back of the crazed’s torso hit the pavement.
“Jesus,” Brandon said.
Marcia, Leland, and Daniels stopped as well, spinning to watch as the crazed continued to splatter their bodies against the force field, seemingly unable to stop. Blood and guts and bits of bone splattered, falling like slop and making large puddles of muck. At one point, Marcia staggered, bent over and gagged. Indeed, the smell was horrible—filling the air around them.
But the noise had drawn still more crazed from the surrounding trees. Flailing and gibbering, they joined the chase. Marcia gasped even as she held her hand over her nose.
“We have to go,” she coughed. “The force field. It’s obviously not strong enough. We have to get out of here. Hide. Before it flickers again.”
“Maybe the force field didn’t fail,” Daniels said, turning toward the town and lifting his chin. Brandon followed suit, even as the crazed time and time again, flung themselves against the force field. “Maybe they’re controlling it. Using it to keep things out. Or to keep things in,” he said cryptically.
Brandon’s eyes followed Daniels’ toward a building at the center of the town. There sat an antenna, forking into the sky and casting a glow. It looked like a news antenna, maybe, although Brandon wasn’t entirely sure. Regardless, it looked as if it had been tacked onto the building using whatever tools they had around. It was crooked, wobbling with the wind. And yet, the glowing light from it didn’t fail.
“I say we follow that,” Leland said. The obviousness of his words made Marcia cackle with nervous laughter. And then, even as the crazed continued to hurl their bodies against the field, they began to walk slowly toward the antenna. Confusion and fatigue blended in their minds, and they fell into a line.
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