“So I'm just some outsider to her? After five years?”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Declan. “She's always been a girl who gets what she wants.”
“Bitch,” Jenny said. But there was no heart in it.
“Jen, don't do this. We can go off on our own. We can do whatever we want.”
“We do that anyway.”
“No Lucy, no gang, just us, Jen. We can go anywhere.”
“It's not safe anywhere,” she said. “We are always going to be running. But this one thing, I can't not do it. It's the one thing about this whole mess that I have to take responsibility for. I never should have left him, Declan. He was just a kid and I left him in that lab.”
A lot of scientists went crazy in the end, pressured by the government and obsessed with finding a cure. Declan didn't know exactly who her mother was, or her grandfather. No one really asked about family. Everyone had lost people in horrific ways. So Declan never asked, and Jenny never told. She was glad. She worried that if he knew, he would look at her differently. No one needed to know about the family she came from. Her family wasn't just the reason Jenny was running. Her family was the reason everyone was running. Her family was the reason the world ended.
“It doesn't matter what I say to you, does it?” Declan said. “You're going back no matter what.”
She shrugged. “I have to.”
He swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down under a sizable amount of beard scruff. He sighed heavily and sat down next to her on the cot. A pair of mirrored sunglasses dangled from the neck of his tee shirt. He looked at Jenny and a part of her screamed to stay. It still gave her goosebumps when Declan looked at her like that. It had been only three days, but she felt like she was seeing his gray-blue eyes for the first time. Fuck. She set her jaw, prepared for an argument.
“He's my brother,” Jenny said, her voice too hard. Declan flinched and she felt a pang of guilt.
He finally nodded. “I know. If it was my family, I'd probably do something fucking crazy, too. It's just that, my family's all dead. I know you know that, Jen, and I'm not trying to rub it in. But you're all I've got now. You just scare me sometimes. Those Righteous ain't fucking around. They will kill you if they figure you out.”
“I know,” she said. She looked down so she wouldn't have to look at him. Jenny had taken off the dress covered in guts and had Sully's pristine sheet wrapped around her. She stared at her hands. “I have to try.” Her voice was soft. “I left him behind, you know? With our mother and that poor excuse of a fucking grandfather.” Bile rose up in her throat and she forced it down. “He was all alone.” She raised her eyes back to Declan's face. “I shouldn't have left him. This is my chance to save him. I just have this feeling he needs me to do that for him.”
Declan stared at her for what felt like a long time. “Fine,” he said. “I'll get you back there. But you have to promise to be careful.”
“I will,” she said. Declan raised an eyebrow.
“I know you, Jenny. Don't do anything crazy.”
“Because you're the picture of sanity?”
“No,” he said. “Because you're better than me. And because I don't want to have to go back there and kill every fucking one of those Righteous Thumpers for ...” He shook his head. “You know what you mean to me, Jenny. Just don't fucking die.”
Jenny smiled, but Declan didn't. She knew Declan was just crazy enough to walk into that subway and take everyone out. Living or not, you did not cross Declan Munro. Unless you were Jenny Hawkins, of course. As they sat there looking at each other, his face softened a little. He reached over and touched her cheek with a large hand that felt like sandpaper. Jenny became suddenly aware of how bad she smelled.
“Jenny,” he said, his voice low. “I don't care how tough you think you are. If shit goes down, I want you to run. If you do one thing for me, it's this: just fucking run.”
“I'm not tough,” she said. “I hid from an army of rotters on the way over.” She tried for a smile.
“Don't make this light,” Declan said. He hadn't taken his eyes from hers. “I can't lose you. You're the only good thing in this shithole world. Just survive. Do it for me. You're what I got, Jen. You're it.”
Jenny put her hand over his larger one. “Okay, Munro. I promise.”
“Swear it,” he said. His eyes bore into her. “Swear you'll run.”
Jenny swallowed, suddenly nervous. “I swear.”
Declan nodded, still looking unsettled, but at least a small bit satisfied by her promise. Jenny leaned up and kissed him, if only to calm him down. His lips melted into hers and within moments he pulled her close, his arm tight and warm around her waist. But while Declan grew calmer, a twinge in Jenny's chest was growing stronger. A scratching of doubt. What if he was right? What if this was a huge mistake?
Behind them, Sully cleared his throat. Jenny pulled away from Declan and hitched the sheet up.
“Sorry to interrupt,” said Sully sarcastically. “But I got you this.” He threw something at Jenny and she caught it. It was a Thumper dress identical to the one she'd ruined. “That cost me a pack of smokes,” he said. “And not the shit ones Rosie peddles. You owe me.”
“No, I don't,” she said.
“Yeah, but I can dream,” he said.
“Thanks, Sully,” said Declan.
“You really okay with her doing this?” Sully said.
“What choice do I have?” said Declan. He eyed her. “Wouldn't be Jenny if she listened to reason.”
“Oh, come on,” she said. “That's just low.”
Declan smiled for the first time. He was relaxing. Jenny's chest felt tight, but she breathed the feeling out and smiled brightly. “If you boys don't mind, I'd like to get changed.”
“I don't mind,” said Declan.
“Go talk to Sully,” Jenny said, laughing. “Deck,” she said as he bent to duck through the opening in the tent.
“Yeah?” he said.
“You know I love you, too, right? I don't really say it, but you know, don't you?”
He grinned. “Who said anything about love?”
“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Get the fuck out of here.” He laughed as she threw the girly mags at him as he slipped out of the tent. Jenny quickly shrugged into the horrible dress. Scratchy and hot and tight all at the same time. She was glad this was the last time she'd have to wear the goddamn thing. Jenny stepped out of the tent and immediately started sweating. She tossed Declan his leather, which he shrugged into.
“I have to go now,” she said. “If I'm late there will be questions.”
“Thanks, Sully,” Declan said.
“Sure thing,” Sully said. “Jenny. Be careful. Please.”
“I'm always careful,” she said.
Sully raised his eyebrows. “I mean it, kid.”
“Fine!” she blurted. “Fuck. You guys are worse than grandmothers. I'll see you tomorrow, Sully.” She led Declan away, toward the gate.
“I fucking hope so!” Sully yelled behind them.
Declan held her hand as they walked. He never did that. He held her so tight it hurt, but Jenny didn't complain. It was hard for him, more than most people. He didn't know how to let go of things. He seemed to sense he was squeezing too hard and released her hand from his as they exited. He leaned over and said, “I have a surprise for you.” He nodded at Tyler and Kevin as they passed through. They grinned at Jenny and she smiled back. As they rounded the corner, she felt her jaw slacken.
“Holy shit,” she said. “Is that a Mustang?”
“Used to be,” said Declan. His demeanor completely changed when he saw her reaction. He was now crackling with excitement. “It was a hot little black '67 that was of absolutely no use to anyone. Fucking gas. Anyway, I got Beacon to help me get it back to the house and I've been modifying it. Takes diesel now.”
The Mustang looked like something out of a science fiction movie. It had no hood over the engine, which gave the ill
usion of spilling out over the rest of the car. Chrome pipes burst out of the motor and ran across either side, as if it could just take off into space. And though Jenny could distinctly see some much-hoarded duct tape in spots, the car was completely and utterly impressive. She walked around to the back of the car and stopped at the trunk. Someone had stenciled a skull with glossy white paint on the back.
“This is for me?” she said.
“All for you, baby.”
“Deck, I...it's beautiful. It really is.”
“You like it?”
“If all these creepy prowlers weren't around I'd throw you on top of that car and have my way with you,” she said.
Declan laughed. “I wouldn't recommend it. You'd probably be pretty uncomfortable on that engine. Besides,” he put an arm around her shoulder. “You wouldn't want to mess up your stunning ensemble.”
Jenny put an arm around his waist and leaned into him as they looked at the car.
“I'm scared, Jen.”
“Me too,” she said.
“Let me come with you. I've got a couple of guns in the trunk from the hoarding stash. I could just blow all those Thumpers away. Or threaten them until they told us where Casey was.”
Jenny sighed. The thought had crossed her mind more than once. “It's no good,” she said. “There's kids there. People have lives there. They feel safe. No matter how fucked up those lives are, I just don't feel like we have any right to take that away from them. Even if they have Casey, they didn't have anything to do with it. It would be Joshua and his friends.”
“So? Let's take out Joshua.”
“And then the others would live how? They're not like us, Munro. They never had to learn to survive. They only have what food Joshua can scavenge. It's a shit life. But it's their family, you know? They're not free, but they don't want to be.”
Declan snorted. “Maybe they need to be set free. Learn to fight.”
“Not for us to say,” Jenny said. “I'm the outsider there. Not them. Besides, you know if you went in there and shot them up, it would start a war when the real Righteous found out. You're worried this little splinter cult will kill me. Imagine if the real deal got wind of what you're suggesting. The Thumpers and the Heathens, we're just barely coexisting as it is. No. I'm just trying to get out of this without anyone getting hurt.” She looked up at Declan's stony face. “Enough people have been hurt, Deck.”
“They'll hurt you if they figure you out.”
“Then I won't let them figure me out,” she said. Declan pulled his arm tighter around her. “I'll come back to you, Munro. You won't get rid of me so easy.” Jenny heard Declan's sigh catch in his chest and he wrapped her in a hug. She put both arms around his waist and her hands up the back of his shirt until she felt warm skin. “I'm sorry,” she whispered.
Declan sniffed and stepped away. He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. “Do what you gotta do, Jen. I'll be here when you get back. Remember your promise.”
“Just fucking run,” she said.
“Just fucking run,” he agreed. “The roads are clear from the subway to the house. You remember how to get there?”
“Yeah,” Jenny said. “Thanks. How will you get back?”
He grinned. “Don't worry about me.” He walked to the trunk and popped it. He pulled out two revolvers, one nearly as long as his forearm and the other fitting neatly in his hand. He thrust the smaller one toward Jenny. “This one's for you.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do with that?” she said, motioning to her state of dress. She took the gun anyway and looked at it. It was pretty banged up, but not a bad little gun. It had been years since Jenny had actually shot anything. People hoarded their guns now. Just in case.
“Got you covered there, too,” he said, pulling something brown out of the trunk and handing it to her. A holster. “It goes around your thigh,” said Declan. “Rosie found it for me.”
Declan helped her cinch up the holster around the leg that didn't have a knife attached to it. Jenny had to admit, she loved having an arsenal on her thighs.
“Hot damn,” he said, looking at it. “You are dead sexy.”
“It's a gift,” she said, dropping the wool skirt. He looked disappointed and Jenny laughed.
“You better come back,” he said. “A gentleman's got urges.”
“What does that have to do with you?” Jenny said. He smiled and she put her arms around his neck and kissed him deep and hard. When she pulled away she was holding the keys and Declan was staggering a little. “You going to walk home with just a little gun to keep you company?” she said.
“Nah,” he said, reaching into the trunk again and pulling out a shining ax on a long handle. The wood of the handle was stained brown with dried blood, though it looked like he had sharpened and polished the blade. It had a wicked edge on both sides of its head. “I think I can handle it,” he said.
She opened the car door.
“Jenny,” said Declan. She met his eyes. “If anything happens you, I'm going for that motherfucker first thing.”
“Joshua?” she said. “I can handle Joshua.”
FOUR
The car wasn't too hard to drive, once Jenny figured it out. It made a hell of a racket, so she killed the engine and parked a block from the entrance to the tunnel.
The dead man on the pole had been screaming for three days and hadn't let up since she'd been gone. Her head was already starting to ache and her ears throb by the time she reached the pole. She stood in front of the rotter, which alternated between shrieking and snapping his teeth at her. His skin was greasy and rotting away, his eyes shriveled and white, a putrid smell coming off of him that made Jenny's stomach churn.
She'd been seeing these everywhere: Rotters strung up like they were being crucified. It was sick, but Jenny was sure there was some point being made if she thought about it long enough. This one had his hands bound behind him with strips of leather. His ankles, too. Holding him up on the pole were three huge metal spikes right through the rotter's chest. Black liquid had soaked into a ragged button-up shirt where the spikes had pierced him. Jenny wondered if it hurt him. Could the undead feel pain?
She looked around to see if anyone was watching. Righteous women weren't supposed to touch weapons. She could just put him out of his misery. And everyone else's misery. Just as she started to hike up her skirt for her knife, the gruesome face stopped screaming. It just stared blankly for a few seconds, unblinking and slack-jawed. Jenny took a step back, shocked. The head started screaming again as she backed against the side of the building.
She thought the rotter looked familiar, but she hadn't expected this. The face, under all the rot and dried blood and hate-filled shrieks, was one she knew very well. He might be a zombie now, but that face used to belong to someone else. Her grandfather, Dr. Frank Bierce.
Jenny stared at his dead eyes, no colder than they had been in life. Her hand tightened, still gripping the handle of the knife. She pulled it out and held it in front of her. This man had caused her so much pain. He had forced her to flee from her family in the first place. If Jenny thought about it, everything could be attributed to him. Her being here, pretending to be someone she wasn't. People said the plague had really been his fault and not her mother's. She believed that. He would release a pathogen into the wild just to study it. And her mother had been too terrified to do anything but follow him.
And here he was, staring at Jenny between screams, snapping gray teeth just to get a taste of her. He wasn't human any longer. Jenny ground her teeth together. Her heart hammered in her ears. She could still feel him cutting into her flesh, after all the anesthesia was gone. Continuing with the experiment. She still woke up screaming sometimes. Jenny took a step toward him. He couldn't hurt her anymore. She took another step and was nose to nose with his face. She narrowed her eyes.
“I wish I'd been the one to kill you, you son of a bitch,” she whispered. Then she brought the knife down on his skull. With a sound like a r
otten melon, the knife plunged down to the hilt. And for the first time since she had arrived at the Underground, there was silence.
Jenny slipped in the station door and swiftly replaced the slabs of wood that blocked the door to outsiders. The lobby was piled high with rotting bodies and she fought her gag reflex. All the windows had long since been blacked out or boarded up, but there was a crack in the wall if you knew where to look. Jenny peered out and looked out at the limp figure on the pole, squinting. What had she done? It couldn't be a coincidence that she had weaseled her way into a Thumper camp and her grandfather's corpse had appeared at the same time. Was this a trap? If the Righteous were crucifying the rotters, it stood to reason that Joshua could have put the old man up there. And if Joshua did that, then perhaps he was doing it for a reason.
She didn't see how Joshua could know they had been related. Not even her closest friends knew her last name. Even when they did, they didn't think she was one of those Hawkins. In the ten years since her mother had unleashed a disease no one understood or had any defenses for, and in the five years since the last government fell, no one had figured it out. No one connected Jenny with her family. That was the way she liked it, and the way it had to be for her to survive. She shook off the paranoia. There was no way these Righteous could know who she was. For all they knew, she was just some Thumper who had stumbled into their camp.
The real problem here was that she had killed the rotter on the pole. Someone was bound to notice that. No one would suspect her of doing it; Joshua would never suspect a woman could kill a rotter. Jenny nodded to herself. She was safe. She only needed until nightfall. If she still couldn't find Casey, then she was giving up. This was getting too dangerous.
“Why do you come in here?” said a voice behind her. She turned and put on her docile face. Joshua wrinkled his nose at the dead bodies. “No one ever comes in here unless they have to. And yet you've only been here a few days and I've seen you come here at least twice.” He took a step toward her.
Jenny put on a hopefully sheepish smile. “Curiosity, I guess,” she said.
Jenny Undead (The Thirteen: Book One) Page 3
