Winter Castle (Winter Plague Book 2)

by Isla Jones

  Castle placed the cube of chalk on the edge of the pool table. “I said later.”

  Seconds passed where we just looked at each other. It was a challenge; who would back down first. I did. My gaze swerved to the stool by the wall. Castle’s triumph pushed through the air to me, but his pride silently gloated too soon. I hadn’t looked away out of intimidation.

  Sometimes, his pride and ego made him into such a fool.

  As he turned his back on me and made to take his second shot, I inched towards the stool. His parka was draped over it. My hand slid into the pocket—a skill I picked up on the streets—and when Castle straightened up again, I was by the small passageway, glowering at him.

  “Anything else?” he said.

  Mac still hadn’t taken his eyes off the dart-board.

  “Nope.” My lips smacked together at the p and I crawled out of the cellar through the narrow passageway.

  When I reached the lounge, I snatched my bag and pulled on my parka. My gaze drifted between the two single mattresses on the floor—they seemed even further apart now than they were on the first night.

  I found Vicki where I’d last seen her.

  The study was lit by a few candles stuck to the desk. She and Cleo were curled up on the hard chair behind the desk—only, Vicki wasn’t reading anymore. Her eyes were lost in their own world, glazed over and fixed on the shelf.

  “Hey,” I said. My voice snapped her out of her reverie. “Wanna go into town?”

  Vicki frowned and stroked Cleo. “For what?”

  “Winter clothes,” I said, gesturing to the thin cardigan under my parka. “I’m freezing. And we can pick up a few supplies or whatever.”

  Vicki slowly lifted Cleo from her lap and placed her on the desk—a patch cushioned with a blanket. “Who will take us?”

  “Oh, are you a child?” I asked, arching my brows. “Do you need permission to leave the premises? A babysitter?”

  Vicki’s face hardened. It looked unnatural on her.

  “Last time I checked,” I continued, “we were both grown-ass women, who don’t require permission—or protection—to go into town. It’s probably abandoned anyway. I doubt there will be any rotters here.”

  Vicki sighed. “Is this about what’s going on between you and Castle?”

  “What? No.”

  Vicki gave me a steady look. “When Mac and I fight, I don’t go running off into dangerous situations at a whim.”

  “It’s not a fight—I told you we’re not what you thought we were.” I raised my chin. “Besides, what’s the difference between you and I going into town, and Mac and you going into town? Nothing. So there’s no problem, is there? We’ll leave Cleo in the living room, we’ll take the Jeep, and we’ll be back within a couple of hours.”

  Vicki’s lips twisted into a sad smile. She wasn’t coming with me.

  Stepford Wife, I thought to myself.

  “Whatever,” I said. “Watch Cleo for me. I’ll be back soon.”

  I had to be quick.

  There was something about Vicki’s smile that said she would tell the deltas where I was going. If they caught up to me before I snuck into the shed, they would stop me from leaving the premises. But if they were too late, and I’d already gone, they would save the lectures for when I got back.

  They didn’t have a right to tell me what to do. Any one of the deltas could take a car and go for a drive, whether it to be in search of roaming survivors or supplies. So why couldn’t I? I wasn’t under their rule—they weren’t my leaders. I only tagged along for the ride.

  Getting into the shed was the easy part. Adam didn’t have a view of the sides of the building; his view stretched out onto the open landscape and frosted trees. The roller door opened quietly. I climbed into the Jeep, holding the keys in my hand. I’d stolen them from Castle’s jacket pocket.

  Well, I didn’t really steal them, did I? The Jeep was as much mine as it was his. I was the reason it was working again. We’d fixed it together.

  My heart doubted me, though. It thrummed in my ribcage, trickling adrenaline through my body to my fingertips. Despite the frosty chill in the Jeep, a cold sweat had licked up my back. I held my breath and stuck the keys into the ignition.

  There would be quite the row when I got back.

  I turned the keys—the Jeep purred to life.

  As if being chased by a pack of rotters, I released the hand-break and slammed my foot on the pedal. The tyres skidded off the concrete and over the dirt.

  I ignored the shouts as I sped onto the main road and took a sharp turn left.

  In the rear-view mirror, Adam stood on top of the roof, hollering after me, his hands waving manically. He looked rather funny, I thought. And then, he was gone—I’d driven too far down the road to see him anymore.

  The town was something out of a horror film.

  I passed a train station on the way in. I almost didn’t see it through the tall, brown grass that had grown up the bricks.

  The road into town had cracked. The crevices looked like dead tree branches reaching out for sunlight. I remember thinking that it might collapse underneath the weight of the Jeep and swallow me whole. And no one would know. I’d simply … vanish.

  The town centre was no different. It was one street between two rows of shops. The pub at the end had caved in on itself. I parked the Jeep beside it, and washed my gaze over the crumbled debris. I didn’t think buildings would start to collapse so early—I’d thought it would at least take a few years for that happen. But as I studied the debris and noticed some blackened stones and bricks, I wondered—was this the place of the last stand? Is that why it was destroyed?

  I turned my back on it. The opposite side of the street was much the same. The beige buildings had been scorched by the sun. At the end of the line, wire fences blocked off the small playground of the school. A withering tree, killed by winter, protruded from the concrete in the playground.

  That is what cuts me the deepest in these times. Children. I can’t stop my mind from spiralling into dark places—had the children been at school when the outbreak hit? Had they been searching for their parents? Did they survive, only to fall to the brutalities of nature?

  I shoved the thoughts from my mind and wandered down the street. The Jeep shone behind me; its glossy coat stood out amidst the decayed surroundings. It was the only car on the street.

  I stopped at the front of a shop. Through the dust smeared on the sign, I read the faint outline—‘HOPKIN’S’. That’s all I could read through the dirt. I moved closer to the window and used my sleeve to wipe away the grime. Then, I peered through the streaks of dirt into the shop.

  It wasn’t anything exciting. Just a clothes shop. And, from what I could see through the glass, they sold a lot of straw cowboy hats.

  With a sigh, I crept towards the door. It wasn’t boarded up like some of the other buildings were. I gripped onto the doorknob and turned—it was unlocked.

  The door swung open slowly, and the daylight flooded the shop. Dust danced in the air, never descending, and wedges of light stretched over the racks. I knocked on the door panel, my free hand grazing the handle of my gun.

  The shop was clear. I picked up a basket and wandered through the aisles.

  Baby onesies hung on the fixtures against the wall. Some were padded inside with extra cotton, and had small fluffy hoods. They were good for winter—I grabbed a couple for Cleo. With a few alternations, they would fit her snugly. A denim shirt caught my eye, as well as a pair of tan riding boots.

  The necessities were crammed onto shelves—socks, underwear, bras—as if hidden from the shoppers who had once walked the aisles. Small town people were strange, I thought.

  After I’d looted all I wanted from the shop, I wandered across the road to the pharmacy. It was peaceful—the deafening silence of the town. Not even the chirps of birds broke the quiet. I was totally and utterly alone for the first time since the outbreak; even without Cleo. And it filled me with a sense of
freedom, as if I was completely without burden or responsibility.

  The air tasted crisper, the sunrays felt warmer. I was at peace in that moment.

  I hadn’t realised just how much I needed to be alone for a few hours until I strolled around the abandoned town.

  The pharmacy was untouched. I didn’t know what asthma medicine looked like—but Vicki needed it. I emptied everything from the shelves into the basket. We could sort through the haul later when I got back to the auto shop.

  A few metal canisters hit the floor. I sighed and dropped the basket beside them. As I crouched down to pick up the medicine, I heard something.

  My brows furrowed and I stilled, crouching on the floor. The counter blocked my view to the shop-front window, but not my hearing. The sound grew louder—closer.

  It was a car engine.

  With a huff, I rolled my eyes and crammed the medicine into the basket. It would be one of the deltas coming to take me back to the auto-shop, I thought. They couldn’t even give me an hour to myself, an hour away from the shop of boredom.

  The sound of tyres crunching over gravel reached me. The car was slowing down. Probably Castle, I thought, cruising down the street, searching for me from the car—the asshole didn’t even have the energy to waste to get out of the car and look for me.

  Once the basket was packed firmly, almost overflowing, I scooped up the handles and rose to my feet. My gaze found the dusty window—the layer of grime obscured the view of the street.

  The sound of the car quietened. I strained to hear it, but it was gone. Castle must’ve seen the Jeep and parked next to it.

  I wasn’t in a hurry. I snagged a plastic bag from under the counter and collected more supplies: tampons, pads, face washes, condoms—for Vicki and Mac, of course—and wet towels.

  There were a few protein bars at the counter, too. I stored most of them in the plastic bag; I snacked on one as I strolled out of the pharmacy.

  My eyes drifted up and down the street, expecting to see Castle’s furious face pop of nowhere. The Jeep was parked by the debris, alone. I couldn’t see another vehicle.

  As I chewed the thick protein bar, I scanned the street. There wasn’t any movement through the windows I could see through; the purr of the car was gone; and Castle was nowhere to be seen.

  My heart skipped.

  What if the car I’d heard had been another survivor? One of our group, headed for the meet-point?

  My heart sank back into its regular rhythm, taking the short burst of excitement with it.

  Even if it was one of our group, I didn’t care about any of them—It didn’t affect me. Leo was the only one I wanted to see again. But I would never see him again.

  Leo plagued my thoughts as I strolled down the road to the Jeep.

  It was my fault he was dead, wasn’t it? He’d gone into the battle to find me; where the rotters and defected deltas attacked. He’d been bitten after I fled with Castle—a betrayal. I betrayed him.

  Did he feel the cut of what I did before the rotter took him down?

  When I reached the Jeep, I realised I’d been crying. My eyes blurred, as if swarmed in clouds, and my nose tickled. I sniffed back snot and carried the supplies to the boot.

  Before I could put the supplies down to open the boot, something caught my eye—even through the clouds of brewing tears, I saw it move. My watery gaze fixed on the rear windshield; the shadow moved behind me, drawing nearer. I didn’t hear it move, but I saw it.

  I sucked in a sharp breath. My hands let go of the basket and bag. They crashed to the asphalt. I snatched my gun and spun around.

  “Stop!” I shouted. “Don’t move!”

  The shadow held up its hands. Only, it wasn’t a shadow anymore.

  It was a woman.

  A stranger.

  DON’T PICK UP STRAYS

  ENTRY SIXTEEN

  “Put it down.”

  My voice betrayed my fear, shivering in the stagnant air. The woman kept her hands above her head; one of them clutched onto a baseball bat.

  “Put it down, or I’ll shoot.” I switched off the safety. “And at this range, I won’t miss.”

  The woman’s chocolate-brown eyes swept over my face, searching for any weaknesses. I hope she found none.

  “Easy,” she said. She slowly dropped to one knee and placed the baseball bat on the tarmac. Then, she straightened again, her hands resting atop her head. “There,” she said. “I put it down—are you going to do the same?”

  “Fuck no.”

  The tremors that wracked my hands snaked down to the gun. It wobbled in my grip, but the woman didn’t make a move—I’d been right when I said I wouldn’t miss. We were much too close together for her to have a chance of getting the gun off of me.

  “What were you doing sneaking up on me like that?” I asked.

  The woman dragged her upper teeth over her bottom lip. Her dark skin glistened from sweat—but the bite of the air was as chilled as a freezer. She was either extremely great at hiding her fear on her face, or she’d been running.

  “I was going to hit you,” she said. There was no apology in her voice. “And take your car.”

  “Was that you I heard?” I asked. “Driving down the road earlier?”

  The woman nodded. “I’m low on gas,” she said. “I saw your car, and thought I’d walk back for it. Didn’t realise anyone was here.”

  “Well, I’m here,” I said. “And it’s my car.”

  The gun stayed raised in my hands. If I lowered it, she might attack me. I couldn’t take her back to the auto-shop as a survivor. That really wasn’t my place to invite someone into a group I don’t feel a part of myself. And who knows what sort of person she is? She was ready to crack my skull for a car.

  No, I couldn’t bring her back with me. And if I let her go, she might come after me.

  A low growl interrupted my deliberation. It hadn’t come from the woman.

  We both whipped our heads to the side and looked down the street—a blue pick-up truck sped up the road, towards us. My heart sank.

  “You with people?” asked the woman nervously. Her coffee eyes switched between me and the truck.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I am.”

  The woman’s muscles wound tightly; the bitterness of her nerves snared up my nose. But I wasn’t certain who should be more worried—her or me.

  The pick-up truck raced up the street, then skidded to a halt when it reached us. It swerved, and the tyres jumped over the tarmac. Smoke came up from the road, right behind the woman who stood as still as a statue.

  The door swung open and Castle jumped out.

  A molten pit of fury burned behind his eyes, like emerald lava—and they bore into my face, stripped away my skin and raked down my soul. His fingers curled into themselves, nails digging into the skin of his palms—and his jaw was wound so tightly that I almost feared his teeth would shatter.

  I shivered, the gun shaking in my hands slightly.

  Then, Castle turned his gaze to the woman in front of him. Her back faced him, but the rapid rise and fall of her chest told me of her fear. I guessed she’d gotten more than she’d expected when she’d run up to bash a baseball bat against my head.

  Castle hadn’t expected a stranger, either. He seemed torn, glancing between the two of us, standing by the open car door. I wonder what his plan had been before it had been thwarted by circumstance. Then, his gaze settled on the gun I aimed at the woman.

  Another door of the pick-up truck opened—the passenger door. Adam’s head popped over the hood and he frowned between the two of us; the stranger and myself.

  I lowered the gun. The woman didn’t relax; her hands rested on top of her head, and the stillness of her limbs remained.

  “Who’s that?” shouted Adam. He didn’t need to shout. He was only a few metres away from me.

  If I’d told them what she’d planned on doing to me, they might’ve killed her. I can’t predict Castle’s reactions—and I sure as hell don’
t trust Adam’s.

  I licked my lips and shrugged. “Don’t know,” I lied. “Just saw her on the street and—” I waved the gun. “—can never be too careful, is all.”

  The woman blinked at me. I didn’t need to reach into her mind to know that there was gratitude in the way she stared at me.

  Castle stepped towards us. His eyes stayed on me; he’d forgotten all about the woman now. The rage still swarmed behind the sharp green, ready to erupt any moment. His voice shook with the restrained anger as he growled, “What the hell were you thinking, Winter? You think you can just pick up and go whenever you please?”

  “Uh—Yeah.” There might’ve been a little too much attitude in my voice, or the way I flicked my grimy hair to the side. “That’s exactly what I think.”

  The woman dropped her hands from her head. It caught my attention.

  Her eyes had widened to the size of plums as she gaped at Castle.

  “You realise how stupid that was, don’t you?” hissed Castle. The volume of his voice dipped and rose, threatening to break into an out-right roar any second. “You could’ve gotten hurt! You could’ve led others back to us! Tell me, Winter! I need to understand—” He shook his head, his jaw clenched so tightly that dimples appeared above his jawline. “—what the fuck goes on in that vapid head of yours.”

  “Right now?” I said, unfazed. “I’m wondering why she’s looking at you like that.”

  Castle frowned, bewildered. Then, he turned his head to glance at the dark-skinned woman behind him. Just as he was about look back at me, he froze.

  His eyes slowly slid back to her and the silence thickened.

  Castle blinked; his skin stripped away its tan and revealed a marble-pale complexion.

  “Hey babe,” said the woman.

  My eyes bulged at her words, and I suddenly had the urge to kick her shins in. But I just looked between her unsure expression and Castle’s stunned one.

  “Miss me?” she asked, giving him a crooked smile.

  That was my thing. I was the one who grinned at him like that. The awkward, lopsided smile was mine! I’m the awkward one, she’s some woman who stepped out of a Vogue magazine. Well, if Vogue had an end-of-the-world edition.