The duffle bag is practically weightless when I lift it to place it back on the bed, especially in comparison to the shopping bag. How much stuff did he buy? I open the bag and get my answer…a lot more than I’m thinking.
The top of the bag reveals three new pairs of jeans. They look about the right size, which begs the question of how he knows my size. Of course I’ve left a pair hanging up for some time in the cave…do guys even notice stuff like that? I have no idea, but apparently Lucas does to some degree.
Shirts follow, long sleeve thermal shirts, a few long tank tops and sweaters. I rummage deeper into the bag and heat flushes my face when my fingers brush the undergarments. Immediately I push any thoughts of Lucas and my undergarments out of my mind.
I set out some clothes for later and neatly place the rest of them in the new duffle bag. Once that’s done, I flick on the TV and collapse on the bed. I really want to catch up on news about the infection (along with any other pertinent information.) Unfortunately my body has other ideas. The exhaustion of the past two days finally sets in. The world quickly fades to black.
It’s dark when I wake up and it takes me a second or two to remember where I am. I sit up and look over to see a lump on the bed next to mine, snoring lightly. The digital clock on the nightstand says three-thirty in eerie red glowing numbers. It’s been a little more than fifteen hours since I fell asleep.
Now that I’m awake I have to run to the bathroom and manage to stub my toe twice on the way. Leaving the smaller of the two lights on in the bathroom with the door half-opened keeps me from repeating the process on the way back. This is good because my toe freaking hurts.
It takes another couple of minutes to get comfortable, but try as I may I’m just not tired anymore. I don’t put the TV on because Lucas certainly deserves the rest. The clothes I hung up earlier are dry. Very quietly I roll them up and use the soft light from the bathroom to place them back into my backpack. The duffle might seem like the more logical choice—unless I have to ditch it, which would leave no clothes at all.
There’re still a couple hours until the sun comes up. For lack of something to do I make the bed and plop back down on it. It looks like there’s no chance to escape my thoughts now.
Rather than de-compartmentalize something from the recesses of my battered psyche, I do something even more dangerous and stupid. I let myself hope. I imagine finding everyone one day soon. I hug Brie tight and kiss Mason. I see how big Baby Bear got and how Jared’s doing. It doesn’t matter that it’s been so long. I see their faces fresh in my mind. What about the others who helped us? Is it too much to wish that they can be safe too?
The tears that fall are uncontrollable but at least they’re silent. No sense in waking Lucas up to find me all weepy. He’s another problem all together: far too easy to get along with and to be comfortable around. Lucas is just a little bit too cute and a little too well-built for me (or any other female) to ignore. With him acting all considerate to boot it’s just making things worse. I kind of wish he’s an asshole. It may be easier that way.
What makes me feel the guiltiest is that nothing can ever come of me and Lucas. I love Mason and I’ll never betray his trust. Of course Lucas can just be nice and everything’s all in my head. That’s the most probable possibility.
Everything frustrates me and I pull myself off the bed. I position myself in a chair facing the window and pull the blinds just a crack so I can see when daybreak makes its arrival. I stare into the darkness and my mind is sharper than it’s been in the past few days. It makes me try to put together a few things that have been rambling about inside my head.
The infection hasn’t reached here yet so being tracked by Carch and her goons will become much harder for them. I don’t have the same homing beacon effect as before when we are across the infected line. Then there’s the infection Carch creates with her weapons. It doesn’t seem to be connecting to the original infection. It makes me wonder if anyone else’s caught onto that yet. Not that I have any idea what it can mean—because I don’t.
All that twice the infection means to me is more fighting than before: two enemies instead of one. Who knows what else has gone down since I have been taken?
From there my thoughts go from bad to worse. It doesn’t take long before I break down and walk over to the TV. I use the remote and turn it on. I begin to press the lower volume button like a madwoman. It works; picture and no sound—still better than being alone with my thoughts.
Channel surfing finds me first on an old sitcom. I remember watching it and let it coax me back into the innocence of not-so-long-ago for a few episodes before Lucas begins to stir. The sky’s lightening through the cracked shade of the window now. Morning’s here and brings reality with it.
Lucas stirs a bit more and I flick on a news channel. I kick the volume up just a tiny bit. Not enough to be rude, but enough to hopefully wake Lucas up the rest of the way so that we can get a move on.
I stand and stretch, then move to put the remote back on top of the TV. I spot a small card offering a continental breakfast in the lobby. Coffee sounds promising so I throw my boots on. I open the door when Lucas calls out.
“Where’re you going?” His voice is still thick and sleep-filled.
“I guess there’s coffee in the lobby.”
He sits up and wipes a hand down his face. The sheet pools around his waist and quickly I refocus my attention onto the TV because once again he’s shirtless. “Just wait a few. We can grab breakfast before we leave.” He doesn’t wait for a reply instead gets up and goes into the bathroom with some clothes in his hand.
My bags are already set from last night. I kick my boots off to get changed. The shower kicks on so I should have a few minutes of privacy. I pull off the sweats and pull on some jeans. I fasten the new (suspiciously well-fitting) bra into place. Seriously, I haven’t even bought one for myself that fits this good before. What’s up with that?
I shake my head and reach for my shirt when the bathroom door opens. Pausing mid-grab, I instead wrap my arms around my upper body, trying to conceal as much of myself as possible.
Lucas turns an interesting shade of red while his eyes roam over me. “I—sorry. I didn’t mean to…um, toothbrush?” He grabs one off the counter outside the bathroom and throws another toothbrush at me before he slams the door shut again. Great, this will make everything way less awkward between us.
Never before have I put on a shirt so fast. I pick up the unopened toothbrush that bounced off of my shoulder. There’s that consideration again. How can you get mad at that?
Once I jam my sweats into my duffle bag and my teeth are brushed, all I can do is wait. The news shows the map of the infection, which doesn’t seem to have changed that much since we last watched the news in Ohio. It can be good, if only half of the country isn’t bathed in the sickly rust looking color that they’ve chosen to represent the infected areas. More frustrating is that the map solely focuses on the U.S. There’s no indication of the rest of the world, including our neighbors to the North and South. Just grey blanked out parts of the map. Even at the end of the world as we know it, Americans still put themselves above the rest of the world. You think we might be more sensitive, especially seeing how we’re the ones to start this mess.
The bathroom door opens again: very slowly this time. A laugh escapes despite my best efforts when Lucas sticks his arm out and waves a towel around. “Is it safe to come out?”
“Yes, thanks for checking.”
Neither of us says a word for a minute. I don’t want the awkwardness to set in again so I ask, “We’re leaving?”
Sheesh, it’s as though I ask if it’s Christmas morning with the look that bursts across his face. “Yes! You didn’t see it yet, come on!” He grabs my hand and tugs me out the cabin door (awkwardness forgotten at least.)
In front of our cabin sits an older white van. Not a mini-van. More like the creepy one a kidnapper or repairman will rock. It takes me a few minutes of stari
ng at it like a moron before it sinks in. “Wait, is this ours?”
He nods and grins from ear to ear. “Yep, our walking days are over.”
Vehicular transportation! This is so wonderfully time-saving! With this we can hit the West Coast in…fine, I don’t know how long, but it has to be much quicker than if we were on foot. I’m so happy I feel like I may burst. Without thinking I throw my arms around Lucas in celebration. He spins me around once in the air before my feet touch the ground. Being me, I stumble and his arms pull me close to steady me. There’s a funny look in his eye just before he lets me go. My cheeks warm and I look at my feet when I say. “That’s really great, Lucas. Good job.”
He clears his throat. “Yeah, I almost got a camper, but this goes faster. And there’s the back if we can’t find a place to crash for the night.”
“No, this’s much better.” I continue trying to ignore yet another awkward moment. “It’s less conspicuous, too.”
“Let’s grab our bags and I’ll check out. Then we can grab some breakfast before we hit the road.”
It all sounds so normal. “I keep forgetting we can just stop and do that now.”
Lucas looks serious for a second. “Now we can, but it might not be like that all of the time. Luckily now we have a van full of supplies to drive us around. I made sure to restock just in case we have to go off the grid.”
“Go off the grid?” Confusion covers my face.
“It’s a term that means we have to disappear—lay low, whatever. So if we have to hideout we’re covered.”
“Oh, okay.” I go grab my bag. I’m full of excitement to see how much ground we can cover today. I may even drive a little. I know how. It’s my lack of application that holds me back. I guess we’ll see, although it’s probably safer to not practice on our only mode of transportation right now.
I make sure I have everything and settle into the passenger seat of the van. Lucas checks us out while I hope that today’s a good day.
Most of the towns we pass through look pretty much the same. Lucas insists we stay out of the more urban areas—even some of the suburban areas because the military presence there enforce the new Marshall laws. So far our only encounters have been with the occasional passing Army truck.
We stop for lunch at a roadside stop and grab some burgers and fries to go. I grab a milkshake, something I haven’t eaten in what seems like forever. Even the radio has kicked back on. Now instead of commercials it’s riddled with government messages and new rule reminders. The more I hear, the more I understand why Lucas almost chose the camper. There’ll be no driving after dark with the new curfew.
“That’s ridiculous! How can they get away with this?” I mumble through a mouthful of fries which causes this to sound ridiculous and completely lacking in the outrage that I’m feeling.
Lucas rolls his eyes. “Please, that’s nothing. These are all General West’s orders to try to keep everyone safe. If we weren’t trying to go all incognito I wouldn’t even listen to them. Now if we get detoured towards the North and wind up in Carch’s or even Rowling’s areas we’ll have a problem. I’ve heard it’s bad there.”
“How bad?” I ask taking a bite of my burger.
Lucas takes his eyes off the road for a second to give me a somber look. “Bad. People are starving in some places—mostly Carch’s area—and can’t leave their homes. If they even have a home left. There’s entire camps of people who’ve been displaced and are fighting the elements and lack of food together.”
Suddenly the burger in my hand loses its appeal. I force it down. I have to eat it if nothing more than to keep up my strength. I’m lucky enough to have it. A new song kicks on the radio and we drive on.
For three days we stop only to eat and sleep in the back of the van at night. On the fourth afternoon, Lucas pulls into a hotel. We’re far west now. Somewhere in Southern California and the furthest I’ve ever been from home. “Why are we stopping? Shouldn’t we just keep going?”
“We’re pretty much here, and I can’t do anything until sunrise. I figured we could both use a real bed and whatnot for the night.”
The ‘whatnot’ sure is right. We’ve both been cooking in that van for a few days now. Once we hit the warmer climate we realize the van doesn’t have A/C. I nod my head. “Okay.”
Once again Lucas goes into the office to grab us a room for the night. This hotel’s the standard roadside kind…maybe a little neater looking than most. When he returns, I ask, “How come you always go in by yourself?” It makes me feel like he’s trying to hide me.
“Nobody’s looking for me, Kat. I’m not even on their radar right now. This way if they come around asking about a red-haired girl, no one can tell them anything because no one’s seen you.”
Once again I feel like an idiot. “That makes sense.”
“C’mon, let’s go get cleaned up and relax. We’ll have to leave about an hour before daybreak.”
Roads
Having to sit in a van for days (after hiking through the woods for days) leaves my body incredibly stiff. Under the hot water that streams down from the showerhead, I massage my shoulders and lower back, gently coaxing them to loosen up. Eventually I give up and surrender. My muscles will just have to work the kinks out themselves. I comb out my hair and put on the new pajamas I have before returning to the room.
Lucas has the TV on, watching some guy movie with lots of action and explosives. He looks tired. There’s been nothing relaxing about our time together, so that’s not surprising. He sees me and tosses me the remote.
“My turn, I’ll be out in a bit. Then we can find some food?” He asks halfway to the bathroom door.
“Sounds good,” I agree.
Noticing Lucas’ fatigue makes me wonder how tired I look. Usually I can care less about my appearance, but the prospect of possibly seeing Mason tomorrow brings out my vain side. I move over to the mirror and take the first good look at myself since before…
Holy crap, how can I have not seen this for so long? I wipe away the tears that form in my eyes and blur my self-assessment. I hardly look like me anymore.
I have known about the weight loss, but not this much. I abandon the mirror for a moment and rush to my duffle bag and pull out the first pair of jeans that I find. They’re a size one…I used to be a seven, maybe a five on a good day. I shove them back in the bag and return to the mirror.
My hair’s longer—but that’s just from not being cut in forever. My cheeks have lost some of their baby-fat and my eyes seem larger. Dark circles rest under my eyes. There’s no denying that I look like crap. This time I don’t stop the tears that pour down my face.
The worst part is this isn’t even the worst of it. Marks run the length of my arms from the blood tests done there. The scars on my thighs are from numerous tissue samples. Knowing this only makes me cry harder.
“Coming out,” Lucas calls and opens the door. “You ready for food-hey, what’s wrong?” Immediately he’s on high alert. “Is someone here? Are you hurt?”
I shake my head no because it’s all I can do and these stupid tears won’t stop. Lucas relaxes once he ascertains that there’s no danger.
“Kat, what’s wrong?”
Just like the tears, I can’t seem to stop my mouth. “I look so horrible!” I wail and cry harder.
Lucas comes over to me and wraps his arms around me. He lets me bawl into his chest and destroy his new shirt. When my sobs calm down and my gasping breaths reduce to hiccups, he moves back slightly. Lucas puts a finger under my chin and lifts my face to his. “Now, what’s all this nonsense about looking horrible?”
I try to look down but he won’t let me. With a big sniffle I answer, “I’m way too skinny, my eyes look huge--the only thing bigger than them are the freaking bags under them. My face is skinnier too.” Although, with the size of my cheeks that last one might not be a bad thing.
Lucas chest shakes as he gently chuckles. Next thing I know he turns me around so that we’re facing
the mirror and stands behind me. My head reaches his chin so he has no problem seeing me. “I don’t see anything horrible standing in front of me.” He says softly. “I see a girl who’s brave, strong and beautiful. A girl who stands up for what she believes in and fights for it. You’re anything but horrible, Kat. Don’t ever say that. What you are is incredible.”
I hold his gaze in the mirror because I don’t know what to say. I should tell him exactly how wrong he is about me: all the things that make me horrible that have nothing to do with my looks, but I don’t. That’s when I realize his arms are still around my shoulders and I’m leaning into his chest.
I pull forward gently. “I still think I’m too skinny.”
He grins and releases me. “Then let’s go eat.”
Food helps to level out my emotions. We find a diner and have our fill quickly. Back in the van, we head towards the hotel. The unknown once again rears its ugly head at me.
“So what happens next?” I ask Lucas uncertainly.
He lets out a big puff of air. “Um…we start by getting some rest. Then I guess we’ll get up around three and pack up. The hotel has a drop box to leave the key. We have to travel about ten miles by sunrise.”
I swallow. “Once we get there?”
“I don’t really know.” He says honestly. “The team will meet us and probably bring us somewhere safe. I know the captain and the doctor are dying to see you. I assume they’ll bring us directly to them.”
Okay. Right to the doctor and the captain…I can handle that, no problem. “Do you think they’ll let my friends come?” I wonder aloud.
Lucas’ shoulders go up and down. “I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll see them soon.” He says this so sadly that I stop to look at him.
Shocked (Electric Series) Page 5
