The Plague Box Set [Books 1-4]

by Jones, Isla

  Mac seemed to trace Zoe’s train of thought. “Did you take the main roads here? Did you see anyone on the way?”

  Zoe clasped her hands behind her head. If I did that, I’d look stiff and uncomfortable. It was natural on her.

  “I was all over the place,” she said. “Zig-zagging through towns and farms. Rotters were the only people I saw—not too many of them.”

  “I’ve noticed that,” I said. “Rotters are still around here, but I haven’t seen more than a dozen in this town.” My gaze shifted to Castle; he relaxed on the chair, and his eyes were already fixed on me. “Do you think they hate the cold?”

  “Possibly.”

  Cleo stiffened on Castle’s lap. Her ears stood and the hairs on her body prickled.

  “Something is wrong with your dog,” said Castle.

  “You can say her name, you know. It’s not taboo.” I shoved my empty bowl into his hands before I scooped up Cleo. “What’s the matter, girl?”

  Cleo growled in response. Her ears twitched, the way they do when she hears a mouse or a rabbit. Though, she’s not a hunter—she would run from both.

  “She hears something,” I said. “Maybe a stray rotter or a wild animal.”

  Adam slapped his hands on his knees and stood up. “I’ll check it out.”

  “I’ll go with you,” said Mac. “It’s my turn to take watch.”

  At the meet-up point, we’d been quite slack with watch shifts. Whoever felt like it—mostly Adam—sat on top of the roof for a while. With such an open space between us and the woods, and how abandoned the shop looked, the threat wasn’t as dangerous as we were used to. I guess we took a break, so to speak, before the group grew in numbers again. Not that I thought it would.

  Adam and Mac left to check the lot.

  My eyes drifted to Zoe. Her neat fingernails drummed against the table-top. The sole of her boot tapped against the floor. It surprised me that she was anxious—Zoe didn’t strike me as the sort of person who was easily unnerved.

  “Zoe.” Castle’s low voice jolted me from my thoughts. My widened eyes gazed down at him. He stared across the room at his ex. “I need to speak with you. There are some things I’d like for us to go over.”

  Oh. It was that talk.

  A knot suddenly unfurled in my stomach. I hadn’t even realised it was there to begin with.

  Zoe gave a brisk nod and stood from the chair. Castle rose, and placed the bowls on the armchair. He turned to me and pressed his lips against my forehead—but before I’d even felt the touch of the kiss, he’d pulled away. My lips curved at him.

  Castle led the way to the door; Zoe at his heels. The corridor almost swallowed them up—before Adam came racing into the room and barrelled into Castle.

  Castle steadied Adam as Vicki staggered to her feet. “What’s wrong?” said Vicki. “Is it Mac? Is he ok?”

  Adam’s brown complexion had faded to a sickly grey. His eyebrows were knitted together, and his lips parted—he looked like a confused goldfish.

  “It’s the others,” he said. “They’re here.”

  “The others?”; “Who’s here?”; “What others?” Zoe, Vicki and I shouted at the same time.

  Castle grabbed Adam by the shoulder and curled his fingers into his t-shirt. “What others, Adam? Ours, or the defected?”

  A breathless sound came from Adam’s throat, like a whispered scoff. His lips spread into a brilliant grin. “Ours. Loads of them—they’re here.”

  Castle shoved by Adam and ran down the hallway. Vicki and I shared a look—a brief, fleeting look of stunned relief—before we ran out after them.

  Adam and Zoe were right behind us.

  I wasn’t in a hurry. I realised, halfway down the corridor, that running was pointless. There was nobody in the group I longed to see. Everyone I cared about—who survived—was in the shop with me. I let Vicki run ahead as I slowed to a steady pace; Cleo pranced at my feet.

  Adam brushed past me for the door ahead. It flooded light into the shadowed corridor that seemed to stretch forever. Silhouettes moved on the other side, like shadows cast from the sun on hot pavement. I wonder, for a moment, if Rose is among them, and why there is so many.

  “You’re not excited.”

  I whirled around. Zoe approached from the dark. I’d forgotten she was there. It was a sweet moment to forget of her existence.

  My muscles unclenched and I sighed. “No,” I admitted. We continued walking up the hallway. “I don’t know most of those people. None of them gave me a chance when I was with them.”

  Zoe eyed me; the scratch of her dislike irritated my skin. “I don’t understand it.”

  We reached the doorway. I paused to frown at her.

  “I don’t,” said Zoe with a shrug. “You’re so … pathetic, it’s infuriating. How someone like Castle could want you, I’ll never understand.”

  Zoe spared me a once-over before she strode through the door.

  I gazed after her.

  Her words didn’t wound me. She wasn’t important enough in my life to hurt me with insults; but I can’t deny that I’ve asked myself the same question before. It was a question I’d voiced to Castle that day, moments after our romp.

  “Why me when you could have her?” I’d asked him. “Zoe’s special, I’m not.”

  Castle had told me, “No one is special in the grand scheme of life. No single person is above the rest. But to each individual, there will be that one—and that one will become special in the eyes of the person who sees them that way.”

  My tummy still flutters at the memory. It was his fancy way of saying that it’s ‘in the eye of the beholder’. Somehow, I liked Castle’s version best. He told me I was special, without betraying his need for secret emotions.

  Zoe’s words meant nothing to me.

  With a hum, I stepped through the doorway. I made it mere inches before shock froze me in place.

  Survivors swarmed us like locusts.

  An RV idled in the middle of the dried-up field. Cars parked around it—some pick-up trucks, a couple of sedans; and out of the vehicles came throngs of survivors.

  My eyes betrayed my horror—one by one, they took over. One of the twin boys I’d seen at the farmhouse was pulling a duffel bag from the boot of a car. A woman stood beside him, barking instructions at the poor child. I recognised her—I’d seen her with knitting needles once. She’d also shouted at me for making too much noise at night. It might’ve been a month ago now, but as I stood there and stared at familiar faces it seemed as though a year had passed.

  Oscar held hands with a burly guy beside a chipped red sedan. They talked to Vicki.

  Ivan, a brawny hick, came through the RV door. Tatiana stomped down the steps after, and shut the door behind her. Which RV was it, I wondered? The restricted one? Or the one that held the memories of moments passed between Leo and I?

  I roamed my gaze from survivor to survivor. Rose wasn’t among them. There were a few I recognised; Oscar, Tatiana, Ivan and others whose names I didn’t know or couldn’t remember. But no sign of the Apocalypse’s Sweetheart. A slight comfort smoothed out the tension in my arms. Zoe was difficult enough to manage—adding Rose into the mix would’ve made my life miserable.

  As the thought came to mind, I spotted her. Zoe power-walked around the survivors, her head dipped low and her arms swishing at her sides. My brow arched as I watched her hurry for the trees ahead. She was so weird, I thought. And from me, that was quite the statement.

  My gaze pulled from her and I searched for Vicki. Oscar was unpacking a car now, and Vicki was lost in the crowd. I estimated over twenty survivors. It wasn’t many compared to the number of us before the attack at the farmhouse, but it was a lot more than I’d expected.

  Castle caught my eye. He stood by the hood of the RV, on the opposite side. His legs were covered by the bonnet, and he stared straight ahead. Through the distance, I saw his lips move. He was speaking to someone.

  As if sensing my eyes on him, Castle turned
his head—our gazes connected. I forced a smile. He didn’t return it, but I hadn’t expected him to. The faint shadows of creases formed on his forehead; he was frowning at me. As I mouthed ‘what’ at him, he wrenched his gaze from mine and talked to whoever was behind the RV.

  I jumped off the steps. Cleo shadowed me across the lot. I made sure to dodge people who might want to greet me—I wasn’t in the mood. My focus was solely on Castle and who he was talking with. Before I could reach the bonnet, Castle disappeared behind the RV. He’d walked away.

  I stopped and scanned the RV windows for him. All the curtains were closed inside, but even through the thin material I should’ve seen movement; shadows. There was nothing.

  “Come on, Cleo,” I said, and marched towards the RV.

  Tatiana stood by the door. When she saw me, she smiled and waved my way. I gave a lazy flick of the hand in response and trudged around the bonnet to the other side. As my gaze found Castle, my legs jolted to a stop.

  He stood beside a second RV. Only, it was much smaller than the other one. It looked like those caravans with an extendable roof that could only fit two people at once. And it was new.

  It hadn’t been with the group before the attack pulled us apart. But it was guarded like the restricted RV used to be. Lisa sat on its roof with a shotgun resting on her lap, and another delta—her name escapes me—leaned against the windshield, flicking through a magazine.

  Castle stood by the open door to the compact caravan. His fingers were coiled around the edge of the door, holding it open, as he spoke in a deep, low voice to someone inside.

  Cleo yapped. Her paws dug into the dry grass before she sprung forward and raced towards the caravan.

  Castle looked down at her. His eyes sharpened before they lifted to me. And for the first time since I’d met Castle, I saw fear in his eyes—raw fear.

  Cleo whizzed into the caravan through the door. Castle yanked his gaze from mine and made to shout after Cleo. I’d already started for them.

  But before I could reach the door, Castle took a step back—and another person took his place, someone with Cleo perched on his arm. The door swung shut behind him—behind the man with tanned skin; muscles that pushed against the tight fabric of his sweater; dark-brown hair that fell over his forehead; and eyes the colour of pond-scum.

  The breath had been punched out of me. Someone had struck my gut.

  I staggered back. Those eyes followed me, the eyes that I dream of—moss green. He began to blur; the tears that gathered in my eyes distorted him. I was staring at a ghost. And that ghost was staring back at me.

  Leo was alive.

  20.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  A sponge had been stuffed into my throat and sucked up all the air inside of me. My legs wobbled before I slumped against the RV beside me.

  Green eyes, the colour of forests, the green that winter stomps out, rinsed over me; every bit of me, from my parted lips to my shaking hands.

  Time stood still. It brought nausea and tears with it. I don’t remember Castle in that moment. It was a time meant for only Leo and I. Only we existed. Everything else was just background noise.

  Time shattered.

  Leo’s face brightened with a wide, spectacular grin; the kind that flashed the whiteness of his teeth and lit up his eyes. He lowered Cleo to the dirt, never tearing his gaze from mine, before he strode towards me. Every swift move of his leg brought him closer, his muscles spurred by determination.

  I didn’t move. I was as rigid as a dead rotter when he reached me. His hands snatched my arms and yanked me into him. Before I could utter a word, his arms were around me. I stayed still in his hold. The bubbling pit of sobs brewed behind my eyes and caught in my throat. But they didn’t erupt—I was too numb to release them.

  Leo pulled back. His hands slid to my shoulders where they rested; his eyes washed over my slack face again, but this time there was a crease of hesitation between his brows.

  “Winter,” he said, his voice a rough whisper. It ignited things within me—things I shouldn’t feel for a dead man. “Winter?” he said, dipping his head to catch my dazed gaze.

  “I saw you.”

  I don’t remember speaking the words, but the broken sound of my voice forever haunts me. I looked up at him as he straightened his spine.

  A flash of something passed through his eyes, but I don’t know what.

  “I saw you go down,” I said. “That thing took a bite out of you.”

  My body flinched, as if just realising he was touching me. I recoiled from his touch.

  Leo dropped his hands to his sides. Defeat stripped his eyes bare as he studied me; watching the tremors that trickled up and down my body, the way my hands lifted as if to ward him off coming any closer.

  “Winter, I don’t know what you’re talking about—” he began.

  “I saw you die!” I shouted. My hands shoved his chest. He didn’t budge. “I saw it! I know I did! You died!”

  The sobs couldn’t be restrained any longer. They broke free of their cages and surged through me. My back jolted at the first hit; I cupped my face with my hands and cried.

  Fingers danced over my back. At first, I thought it was Leo trying to hold me again, to pull me closer. But then the familiar fragrance of deodorant looted from the cabin snuck up my nostrils. Castle slid his arms around me; I buried my face against his chest. My tears soaked his sweater within seconds—I’m certain some of my snot dampened the fabric too, but he said nothing of it.

  “I did tell you,” said Castle quietly. “Adrenaline can distort our memories.”

  I snivelled. Castle was right—he told me that Leo hadn’t fallen at the farmhouse. But I remember it, it’s as clear as a fresh memory. Am I going mad? Did I imagine the whole thing?

  I don’t believe that.

  “Castle! You got a minute?”

  The shout of Adam’s voice pulled Castle away from me. I turned to glower over my shoulder at Adam—he didn’t return it. His eyes were switching between Castle and Leo.

  “I’ll be back soon.” Castle followed Adam around the larger RV.

  I lifted my watery gaze to Leo. He stood in the same spot, mere inches from me—but it was different now; because now, he’d realised.

  Leo’s eyes had hardened to dark marbles, swirling with shadowed colours; his jaw was set, marking his cheeks with dimples; and his hands were clenched into fists, hidden in his pockets.

  A silence lashed between us.

  I hugged my arms around my chest and looked up at him. Droplets of tears clung to my lashes; Leo’s stony face betrayed no sympathy. But in the dark shades of dirt and leaves that speckled his eyes, I saw the hurt.

  “How are you here?” I whispered. “I don’t care what anyone says, Leo. That rotter took a chunk out of you.”

  “You’re clearly not the most reliable person,” he said darkly. “Why would your memories be any different?”

  I thinned my lips and bit down on them.

  Cleo plonked herself between my boots and licked a frosty blade of grass. I looked down at her. “Can we talk,” I said. “In private?”

  “Now isn’t the time, Winter.” His words came out in sharp daggers, and I hugged myself tighter. “In case it’s escaped your notice, there is a lot to be done here. A conversation with you isn’t on the top of my priority list.”

  My eyes swerved up to his. I glared at him. “That’s how it’s going to be? I thought you were dead, Leo.”

  “You have an interesting way of mourning people,” he said. The swirls of his eyes darkened as if storm clouds passed over them. “Did fucking my friend help with the grief?”

  I flinched. His words struck me.

  I had no words to give back to him. No explanation to offer, no reasons to deliver. I had nothing but silence and a weary gaze.

  “Winter.”

  I turned my damp face to the side. Castle stood by the bonnet of the RV.

  “You’ve been summoned,” said Leo wi
th a scoff.

  “Let’s go, Cleo.” I nudged the Chihuahua with the side of my boot. She darted over to Castle on instinct. Sometimes, I think Cleo knows me better than I know myself.

  Before I could walk away, Leo said, “You told me of a trick once. One you use to survive in a world that someone like you should be dead in.”

  My hair whipped my cheek as I turned to scowl at him. I earned my place as a survivor in this world—he had no right to undermine that, to undermine the things I’ve done to get where I am, all because he has a wounded ego and bruised pride.

  Leo drifted his gaze from me to Castle by the bonnet. “I can guess what that trick is. It’s very effective.”

  Something snapped inside of me. I rounded on him and hissed, “If that’s your way of calling me a whore, you should try again—slut shaming never really bothered me.” I lifted my chin and stared into his fierce eyes. “Just empty words from an empty man.”

  I hoped my hair hit him on the face as I spun around.

  Castle held my gaze as I marched over to him. He had Cleo in his hand, outstretched for me. I snatched her from him and barged cross the lot. I went to the trees—I had to get away from the others. It was too much.

  Castle didn’t follow.

  21.

  Cleo found a spot near the roots of a tree to relieve herself.

  The faint murmur of the group back at the shop reached through the trees to where Cleo and I had stopped. I didn’t wander too far. You never know when a few stray rotters might cross your path. But instead of stray rotters, something worse came out of the trees. Zoe.

  I’d forgotten she was out there. As she hiked down a slope, coming closer to me, I hoped she would pass me by and return to the shop. I’m not the lucky type—she sank down onto a boulder and rested her forearms on her knees.

  As I ran my eyes over her face, I saw the dark marks under her eyes, and the sag to her posture.

  “What do you want, Zoe?” The exhaustion in my voice surprised even me. It was thick with weary irritation, much like Zoe’s expression. “I came out here to get away from people, not to be near you.”