The Plague (Book 3): Winter Storm

by Isla Jones

  He threaded his fingers through mine, his hand warm and rough. “Your sister was the one who failed—she failed you, Winter. There was nothing you could have done after she made the choices she did. But it’s your choice whether you carry the weight of her mistakes for the rest of your life, or accept that she wasn’t the person you thought she was and make the most of what you have here. A chance.”

  Tears burned my eyes as I looked up at him. Then I found myself slowly nodding and leaning into him.

  Castle’s fingers tightened around mine. “This is our room,” he said. “If you want it to be.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  Something shattered behind the stone surface of his eyes. Whatever it was didn’t touch his face. “You can stay here and I’ll set up another room for myself. But I’d rather be in here with you.”

  “Why?” I whispered.

  Castle levelled his gaze with mine. Long lashes fringed a storm of emotion, the kind that warmed every part of me—every part. “You know why.”

  I was on him.

  I didn’t even have a second to think before I threw myself at him. I don’t know what it was that made me do it. His veiled confession? My broken heart in need of soothing? The rejection from Summer that Castle offered to fix?

  Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. Because either way, I was latched onto Castle like a monkey to a tree. Hands in his hair, lips on his, toes pushing me upwards.

  Castle paused a mere moment. Then he was pushing me onto the sofa. I kicked off the cushions and tore at his belt.

  I once wrote in an old diary that with Castle, it would never be passionate. I was wrong. For the first time in two weeks, all the horror that was my life vanished, stolen away by hungry kisses against my lips, desperate hands grabbing at every part of me.

  We were crammed on that sofa, bent at odd angles, clothes tangled around our limbs, but I wouldn’t have changed a thing. On that sofa, we were one. We were us. A mess, tangled and not quite right, but we fit.

  I knew it then. It was him, it would always be him. We fit perfectly, two pieces of a wretched puzzle. A castle in winter.

  Castle rested his forehead on mine. With each gasp that escaped my lips, I came closer to letting those words free of their cage—then they whispered out in a breathy moan.

  “I love you.”

  Castle’s grip tightened on me. I needed to hear those words back from him. But he didn’t say them. He pulled me closer and kissed me.

  He spoke into my mouth, voice hoarse with restrained groans; “Say it again.”

  That was it. Castle translation.

  I love you too.

  THE START

  ENTRY THIRTY-ONE

  The meat served at dinner had to come from somewhere. But I’d never given it much thought before Castle did the worst thing he could have done. He showed me the ‘animal farm’.

  The maze of a room was sectioned into pens and cages. Inside were chickens, pigs, goats, even monkeys.

  Castle had told me, ‘They had to test on something.’

  That flippant comment churned my stomach almost as much as the monkeys trapped in cages. I managed to save two goats and the chickens. After I named them, Castle realised his mistake. Now I won’t let him touch them. Besides, they’re better used for eggs and milk than a quick meal.

  A month has passed since the day we moved in together, and for that whole month Castle treated me as though he was afraid one misstep would send me running. It would be a lie to say I didn’t enjoy the extra influence.

  Everything is beginning to seem … normal. We all have our routines.

  Oscar runs the kitchen with one of the soldiers. Lisa was promoted to the inner circle of the deltas. Vicki moved in to the room next to mine, and every day we meet at the pool to swim with Cleo. I’d never imagined I would have split custody over Cleo in this world, but that’s what happened—day by day, we swap over at the pool.

  And Leo…

  We don’t speak to each other anymore. He keeps his distance, I keep my anger inside. Still, we’ve learned to co-exist. We all have.

  We’re not just neighbours, we’re a community. It felt that way, at least. Especially the morning that Vicki joined the rest of us for breakfast—the first time she’d left the new residential wing in a month.

  The mood was vibrant that morning.

  Down the far end of the table, the last of the soldiers shouted over each other and laughed as the scrawny one tried to stuff as many quiche-cakes into his mouth as possible. I sat up with the deltas and remains of our old group, minus Leo who was on shift in the commands room.

  Oscar fussed over Cleo’s growing belly as she turned up her nose at the lettuce in his palm. Still, she was determined enough to stay put on his lap and wait for an offer of eggs or bacon.

  I spared her a small, proud smile before I turned to Castle.

  “Are you going to finish that?” Before he could answer, I snatched the mini chocolate muffin from his plate.

  But as I took a bite out of it, Castle grabbed it out of my hand.

  Aghast, I gaped at him. Unapologetic eyes met mine as he made a show of biting into the fresh muffin.

  Through a mouthful, he said, “I was saving it.”

  I scowled and settled for the last bacon strip on his plate.

  “I was saving that, too,” he said.

  I challenged his stare. “Law of the apocalypse—eat faster or miss out.”

  Any comeback he had for me fell on deaf ears. The moment the soldiers fell into a hushed silence, my attention snapped to them. They all stared at the entrance behind me. I followed their gazes to the archway where Vicki stood, arms wrapped around herself.

  A stunned smile took my face. “Hey! Over here.” I waved her over and tapped the empty seat next to mine. “Vicki!”

  Reluctance showed in her slow-moving legs as she crept towards the table. Before she could even touch her bum to the chair, Lotan was leaning over the edge, piling food onto a plate, his eager eyes glued to Vicki’s face.

  Cleo leapt onto the table and trotted over to Vicki.

  “Winter!” snapped Caste. “Keep the dog off the table!”

  I made no move to stop her and, instead, glowered at Castle. “Call her ‘the dog’ again and you’ll be sleeping on the sofa.”

  A few choked snorts came from the soldiers—but they knew well enough to swallow back their laughs. Castle sighed a weary sound, leaned back in his seat, and draped his arm over the back of my chair.

  I turned to Vicki as she dug into Lotan’s offered plate. Cleo had settled on her lap.

  “Finally, she emerges,” I said, quietly enough for only her to hear. “About time.”

  Vicki give me a small smile, cheeks bulged with food.

  “All right, B-Team,” Adam called. “Time’s up, let’s move.”

  Adam knocked on the table and stood, his chair scraping against the floor. The soldiers under his command—soldiers who wore pale skin and shifty gazes—downed the last of their coffees and OJs. I couldn’t blame them for being nervous.

  “What’s happening?” asked Vicki, eyes on the soldiers. “Where are they going?”

  “Outside.”

  Her startled gaze swerved to me. “What? Why?”

  “Scouting for survivors and scavenging. They need to start repairs on the solar panels, too.”

  Lotan was in the B-Team. He paused on his way out beside Vicki. “Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he mumbled, pink-faced. “Anything you need, I’m your guy.”

  Vicki turned her cheek, leaving him to stare at the back of her head.

  “Thanks Lotan,” I said with a forced smile.

  He tipped his head and left with the rest of his team. A part of me—a tiny smidgen—felt sorry for him. He was infatuated, enamoured. Still, he just had no sense of timing, did he?

  Vicki didn’t seem to think so either.

  Cradling Cleo, she ate the rest of her breakfast in silence, not a spared word on the soldier
.

  Castle leaned closer and spoke into my hair, “My shift doesn’t start for another hour—”

  Before he could suggest anything, I cut in; “Garden?”

  “My mind was on something else,” he said as distantly as he would if speaking about the weather. But the dark shimmer behind his eyes said otherwise. Not sex. He wanted to train me—every day we trained. Every day I felt no closer to mastering combat.

  I wasn’t about to let him ruin my light mood that day.

  “And my mind is on the garden,” I said.

  I challenged his gaze a beat, then he inclined his head. Like I said, he gives into me.

  ֍

  Perched on the stone bench, I ran the soles of my bare feet over the grass and shut my eyes. Castle leaned against the entrance, arms folded, boots crossed. The steady stare of his eyes warmed the back of my head like a simmering fire on a cold night.

  “I want to do something,” I said eventually. My eyes stayed shut. “I want a job like everyone else.”

  “There is nothing that needs to be done,” he said. “All duties have been assigned already.”

  I shrugged. “I’m bored.”

  The light sound of his scoff reached me. “Only you would be bored at the end of the world, Winter.”

  With a hum, I pushed up from the bench and wandered over to him. “It doesn’t feel like the end of the world anymore. It feels like the start.”

  EPILOGUE

  FINAL ENTRY

  For a long while, I snubbed you.

  Every so often I spared you a glance—the diary on my nightstand. Sometimes, I thought about writing an entry whenever Castle drew me in his book. Two months drifted by and I fiddled with these final pages.

  The truth is, if I have no misery I have no will to write. And these days, misery has gone to find other company. So I’ll end this on the brightest day I’ve had in years—since even before the end.

  It was the day Castle caved and took me outside.

  Not far, not on a mission or run. He took me to the street to help keep watch while Adam cleaned the solar panels on the roof.

  The sun beat down on us—a heat against the skin like no other. No fire or heater can kiss the skin the way the bare sun does.

  I bathed in those rays; lounged over the trunk of a parked car. Opposite me, Castle reclined against another car, an M4 tucked to his chest, rifle slung over his shoulder.

  From the corner of my eye, I checked him out. The honey hues of his sun-touched hair, the glassy glint of his sharp eyes, the way his black t-shirt clung to his chest.

  He caught me staring.

  I showed no remorse—a habit picked up from him. “You’re filling out.”

  Castle arched his brow. “Is that a complaint?”

  A crooked smile took my face. “Definitely not.”

  Castle responded with something that flipped my stomach and fluttered my heart. A smile. Small, fleeting, but a true and rare treasure on his lips.

  Surprisingly, he didn’t look away after the smile had faded. He held my gaze with a silent force so strong that my entire being was captured.

  “What’re you thinking?” I asked.

  That did it. Castle bowed his head, his eyes touching the scorched road. It’s hard for him, even now, to tell me his raw truths.

  I sighed a soft sound of peace and looked up at the blue sky. “Do you think we’ll ever find survivors?”

  Castle’s boots thudded against the road as he wandered towards me. “Maybe one day,” he said. “Without repairing the comms, our chances of finding others are slim.”

  We don’t repair the comms. It was a group decision—the deltas, me and Vicki all voted the same. With the comms working, the other CDCs could contact us, learn of the takeover.

  And that was a battle for another day.

  Resting my forearm over my eyes, I said, “I don’t mind if we never find any survivors. I like our group.”

  Castle stopped beside me. The mere closeness of him tickled my skin. “Are you happy?”

  It was easier for him if I kept my eyes covered, so that’s what I did. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m happy.”

  Affection is a concept Castle doesn’t bond with. So when he lowered, crouched over me, to brush a kiss against my cheek, a tingle ran through me.

  He didn’t draw away. “I was thinking …”

  Castle paused, his rough voice broken by a nervous swallow. I stayed still like a statue, sprawled out on the trunk.

  “I was thinking of how much I love you,” he said quietly.

  I just smiled.

  Castle has loved me for a while now, but outside, under the warm rays of the sun and the embrace of fresh air, he said those words for the first time.

  I slipped my arm away from my eyes and squinted up at his profile. He couldn’t face me with those words dancing between us.

  I gave him a slice of mercy; “I’d say it back if you weren’t blocking my sun.”

  The ripple of relief ran down him like water down a drain; he took a step back. Amused, I watched him slip on his stony mask and look up and down the street, back to his delta-self.

  “Have you given any thought to where you’ll leave your diary once it’s finished?”

  I studied him a moment before I voiced a theory I’d had for some time. “Might as well just give it to you.”

  Frowning, Castle squinted down at me.

  I smirked. “With everything I write about you, the deltas, your mission—there’s no chance you’d let me leave a book of your secrets out there.”

  Castle nodded once and turned his gaze to Adam on the roof. “When did you figure it out?”

  “I didn’t really. I was just a thought I had one day. What did you do with my second diary?”

  He couldn’t have taken the first one. I’d thrown it off a cliff. But the second would’ve been all too easy for him to pocket.

  “I kept it,” he said after a pause. “It’s locked in the safe.”

  Before then, I’d assumed the safe in our room had stored paperwork and files for his eyes only. My curiosity hadn’t been stirred by the safe … Was I beginning to get too comfortable? Let my guard down?

  “Did you read it?” I asked.

  “Almost, once or twice.”

  “Why didn’t you? I went through your book.”

  Castle didn’t answer. His silence said it all. He was afraid of what he would find in those pages, words written about Leo, things I’d felt for him.

  For all his fierce bravery, Castle’s fears burned just as bright.

  “When I finish this diary, I’ll give it to you,” I said. “It’s your choice whether you read it or not. But only if you make it worth my while.”

  At his stoic expression, a grin swept over my face.

  “You have to share your dessert ration with me tonight.”

  Castle scoffed softly. “Deal.”

  My grin faded to a content smile. “Score.”

  ֍

  There is no survivor out there reading this. Even so, I have to write it.

  No cure is coming, no vaccine or help. You’re on your own, and so are we. But we have a better chance. I’m sorry.

  The other CDCs will be found. I’ve never said it wasn’t my problem, just that it was a problem for another day. Sometime in the future. My future. Maybe generations ahead of mine. Whenever it is, they will be found and we won’t let them get away with what they’ve done. To us, to you, to our world.

  Rotters will die out. They’ll starve, so I hope you survive long enough to see that day. I hope you survive…

  My name is Winter Miles.

  And I say my final good-bye.

  Note from author:

  Thank you for coming on this journey with me! I’m sad to say farewell to Winter and her Days of Doom for now, but do follow my author page for updates—soon, I’ll be posting short stories of Winter in the birth of the outbreak, WINTER DAWN. It will be free, permanently!

  Also, there is another series i
n the works—a spin-off series that follows the descendants of our Winter Plague characters in a new world…??

  Please check out the Feared Fables series as well! Two more works are on their way (before the year is out), and one is a little on the darker side.

  Visit IslaJonesWriter.wordpress.com for updates, or follow me on Goodreads and Facebook. Thank you for your support! I honestly couldn’t have finished this series without the beautiful reviews and emails from my wonderful readers.

  You’re what keeps writers going.

  —Isla Jones