Break Free (Book 3): Through The Frozen Dawn

by E. M. Fitch

  "Had you heard about that?" Emma asked in an undertone, looking from Kaylee to Andrew, "about Miranda?" Kaylee nodded, supplying in an undertone Samantha and Jan's assumptions. Someone was caught out after curfew and kicked out of the camp. Kaylee explained how that particular someone was in Miranda's way and the laundresses thought Miranda wanted her gone. Emma frowned at this, her lip caught between her teeth.

  "It doesn't seem that hard to get banished," Kaylee said.

  "Remember what Rebecca said?" Anna whispered, leaning over to speak right in Kaylee's ear. "About Michael and the group he was kicked out of? Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

  Patrick spoke over the whispers, his voice rising in intensity and volume. He seemed empowered by it, soaking in the anger and discontent.

  "You all knew him," he said, looking around the restless crowd. Many of the men were nodding, some murmuring soft acknowledgements. "He was a good man. Did some stupid things, yeah. He was late to work, stayed out late to trap and hunt. But we're those really offenses punishable by death? What else can a lone man hope for after banishment? When they kicked my brother out of here, you saw then what we were dealing with!"

  Kaylee froze. She felt the tension stiffen Anna next to her, saw the change as Andrew pulled up straight and tall.

  His brother.

  She knew now why Patrick had always seemed so familiar. Looking at him with new eyes, with the picture of Michael's emotionless expression overlaying Patrick stern face, she saw it easily.

  "Michael," Andrew whispered. Emma looked up in confusion.

  Kaylee whispered again, "We shouldn't be here."

  ~

  "So we go to the Council," Emma said, looking from Jack to Andrew. No one answered right away.

  The drug store they were standing in had been raided many times. Several of the shelves had been toppled, animals had scavenged through the debris, leaving clumps of fur and feces behind. Something gnawed into a giant water cooler bottle, there were rings of water damage rippling out onto the faded gray carpet.

  Kaylee and Anna didn't return to their work detail after lunch. Worried about breaking the rules, Anna went back quickly to check in, getting permission for her and Kaylee to venture out in search of medical supplies. The Scroungers were supposed to be fencing the area in, Jack and Emma and Andrew included. None of them showed.

  That was good though. It was, honestly, what Kaylee thought might happen. Which is why it was safest where they were. No one else would be coming. Patrick was so busy shaking hands and answering questions after his rally, he barely had a moment to say goodbye to Jack.

  He had made the effort though, tracking Jack down as the group at the men's dorm was dissolving.

  "So, what'd you think?" he asked, focusing on Jack. That was good, Kaylee thought, he wouldn't notice her discomfort. Anna had trouble making eye contact and Andrew looked stiff. Jack was more practiced at keeping a cool head.

  "Interesting thoughts," he answered, looking thoughtful. "I look forward to discussing some of it with you."

  "Well, we have some time yet," Patrick answered, chuckling. "We have all day tomorrow, working on that fencing, right?"

  "I'll be there," Jack had promised.

  Anna made Kaylee and Emma go through the pretense of finding whatever supplies they could in the drug store. Both had bags halfway full of expired medicines and gauze. It wasn't the supplies they needed though, it was the privacy.

  "I don't think we can go to the Council," Andrew finally said. He was perched on a low counter in the drug store, his machete lay next to him. "Did you see that group Patrick had there?"

  "Marco wasn't there," Emma said.

  "No, but most of the able-bodied men were," Jack answered. He leant against the doorframe, silhouetted by the cold, gray light from outside. Every once in a while, he'd pop his head out, sweep the empty streets for any sign of the infected. Kaylee stood near him, her hand resting against a counter, a bag of supplies at her feet. "If Patrick wanted to, he could probably take the town now."

  "With a lot of deaths," Anna murmured.

  "Yeah, so what's the game plan then? Why not just do it?"

  "Because he'd have to keep fighting for it always," Kaylee answered. "He'd be the bad guy, the one who murdered people because he didn't like their way of doing things. It'd be harder." Her voice was low as she continued, piecing it together as she went along. Patrick was setting them up, lining up all the players so he could strategically knock them down. She explained to the rest about her suspicions of the Circle, how things were deliberately difficult, how they didn't farm or share resources. She saw Anna nodding in agreement as she told the rest about how Patrick's brother, Michael, kept people always wanting more, wanting it badly enough that they would start a war to get it.

  And here, in a safe camp with food and water, Patrick couldn't destabilize them with threats of starvation, so he used the infection. He used their safety as a threat.

  "Worked out well for him then, didn't it?" Emma murmured. She cast her eyes to the floor as the rest looked up at her. "That I showed up when I did."

  Kaylee ignored Andrew's argumentative shout. Emma did as well, not meeting his eyes as she kicked her feet against the counter.

  "But what's the end game?" Anna pressed. "What are they both hoping to accomplish?"

  "They want it all," Kaylee answered, never so sure of her answer. "They want the safety of the walls, the trust of the people, and the abolishment of the rules."

  Kaylee didn't doubt for one moment that she was right. It was suddenly plain to her. She could see it unfolding in her mind's eye as easily as if it were happening now, in front of her. Michael was kicked out of the New North America. His brother stayed. One worked to build an army on the outside, the other brother worked to destabilize from the inside. When the time was right, they would converge. And despite what Andrew wanted to believe, Emma being there might have pushed that time closer to present.

  Andrew argued in low tones with Emma, stepping closer to her so he could lower his voice. Jack's head was through the door, casting his eyes over the empty streets. When Kaylee looked up, she locked eyes with Anna. She saw her thoughts mirrored there, knew plainly that Anna already understood, too.

  "Emma's been right all along," Kaylee murmured, bringing everyone's attention back to the center of their little group. Emma muttered, "Finally," under her breath as Kaylee continued. "We can't stay here."

  It was a crushing blow and she understood the hesitation on the part of everyone else to accept it. Emma spoke first.

  "That's not what I-" she blew out a sharp breath and brought her hand to her hair, pushing back some errant strands. "That's never what I meant, that you should all leave, too."

  "Em," Anna started before Andrew could. "It's been a long time since any of you needed me to tell you what to do. I'm not your mother, not even old enough to be close. But you're still my family, all of you are. We're in this. All of us together."

  Nearly three years of ties bonded the four in the group. And to Kaylee, Jack's bond was just as strong. They had survived losses, many of them, since the day the infection started and many of the days after. They didn't start off a family, but they were, undeniably, one now. Kaylee was glad that one of them had finally put that into words.

  "But, if I talked to Patrick-" Jack started after a loaded moment of silence. He stopped as Andrew shook his head.

  "It's not just Patrick," Andrew said. "If it were, I'd say maybe we had a shot. But Michael's coming. He's got a decent group, ammunition, guns."

  "Grenades," Kaylee added, remembering the strange homemade can grenades she saw in the back of the van.

  "If he gets here, he'll force the Council's hand," Andrew finished. "And we have to decide, if we live through that war, do we want to live with whatever rules Michael and Patrick set into place?"

  The silence that followed was tense. But Kaylee knew, from the look on each face. None of them wanted that.

  "We should warn the
Council," Anna murmured, stooping to pick up one of the plastic bags loaded with supplies. "It can be our parting gift. But we better do it quick, and be ready to run. They're not gonna want to let us leave after we drop this bombshell, I bet."

  "I'll do it," Jack murmured. Emma jumped from the counter top, saying she'd go with him.

  It was settled. In the morning, they were leaving.

  They trudged back from the abandoned pharmacy in relative quiet. Thoughts, some despairing, were clanging around in Kaylee's brain. It was right to leave, they should. It wasn't safe here. But then again, no place was. She had had that dream in her mind since the infection first swept the world, the hope and prayer for somewhere safe to land. But it didn't exist.

  "Where do you think we should go?" Kaylee asked, looping her arm through Jack's. In any other circumstance, it could have been a romantic stroll through the snowy woods. He squeezed her arm affectionately against his body, lending some of his heat. She moved towards him, resting her head on his shoulder, taking comfort in the easy cadence of his steps.

  "How do you feel about the coast?"

  "Hmm, love it," she hummed, memories of salt air whipping her hair, the brine and the heaviness of sea air as it hit her tongue. Already, through her memories, she could feel the sun warming her skin, leaving it pink and somewhat freckled. Maybe it wasn't a safe place she needed to land. With her arm linked with Jack's, hope was rising in her chest.

  "I don't think we're that far from it actually," Jack murmured.

  "Not if we could get our hands on a car," Andrew agreed, his voice traveling back through the pines.

  "I've always thought about holing up on some island," Jack said. "Spending my days fishing, swimming. And we wouldn't have to worry about winter there."

  "Or the infected getting at us," Emma murmured. "Can they swim, you think?"

  "Imagine not having to hear that noise anymore," Anna said. Already they were nearing the front gate, they could see it through the chain link fence they followed. The sun was dying, the infected slowly dropping with it, but still their moans float through the air, landing like a contagion in the air around them, coating the pines and the snow covered ground, tainting it all with sickness.

  "Imagine not having to see anyone using them like that," Emma said. Distaste saturated her tone.

  "You know the best part of all of this?" Jack asked. He moved from Kaylee and leant forward against the chain link fence, his eyes out to the plains in front of them. He wasn't looking at the massive front gate, his eyes didn't stray to the pit of the infected. He kept his gaze towards the east, towards the cool, purple night sky descending. "The best part about the world falling apart and the infection happening at all?"

  "Nothing," Andrew muttered. Kaylee agreed with him. The infection had cost her her father, her mother, her life. It had tainted her younger sister, drove them from their home. Andrew's father was gone, his mother gone. Everything was gone.

  "It's the freedom," Jack murmured, his eyes still on the open, snowy spaces. "There's nothing to take it away from us, not if we don't let them."

  Chapter 18

  They waited until Patrick called another meeting. This one would be early, at dawn. The men's dorms were still not cleared for habitation, so the group would meet there. Everyone from before, with the exception of Emma and the rest.

  Emma and Jack were already up, tugging at their boots laces and pulling on gloves. The wood stove was pumping a steady heat, thanks to the logs Anna had gotten up to throw in. But outside the wind beat at the wooden side of their cabin. It whistled through the loose panes of the windows.

  "Heading south really doesn't sound that bad right about now," Emma said, her teeth chattering.

  "You can hang back, if you want," Jack offered again. Emma shook her head. It made sense for her to go. Anna was still stuffing whatever supplies she had found into bags. Kaylee was organizing food. Andrew was perched by the window, watching through the blowing drifts of snow in case Patrick or one of his men came looking. Emma didn't think they would, Patrick seemed to keep them all pretty entertained last time. Still, if someone did come looking, Emma didn't want them to find the girls alone. She wanted Andrew there. And she couldn't let Jack go alone to warn the Council. He needed back up.

  She brought her gun to her coat pocket, crammed it in so that it wouldn't fall out into a snow drift, but kept it accessible should she need it quickly. She prayed she wouldn't.

  The Council slept all together in separate rooms in the main building. Emma was sure it would be convenient that way, should trouble arise. It was also the nicest of the buildings in the camp, not a cabin, like the rest, but a full house. She had always seen it from the square, two stories, white siding, screened in porch. There were even rocking chairs, leftover reminders of a time before the infection.

  The early morning sky still hung in dark curtains. The stars had started to fade with the coming of the sun and it forced the sky darker, a vast sheet of black. Song birds sensed the approach of dawn and began their mornings, soft calls into the darkness, the beginning of a new day. The sound of Emma and Jack's boots was muffled in the powdery snow. There was no noise at all, save for the errant bird song.

  None of the lights were on in the main house. Jack knocked on the door, not too loud but enough that it shook the window pane. The glass lit orange after a moment, the hiss of a lantern flaring to life loud in the stillness.

  "Who's there?"

  Harris admitted them after the loud snap of a bolt being undone. He left Emma and Jack to sit alone in the front room. The walls were lined with mismatched sofas and armchairs. The center of the room had four long couches that were squared off, facing each other. They were worn and faded, but even for that, they were the most luxurious things Emma had sat on in a long time. She settled back to wait, letting the cushions absorb her body weight. Jack paced the small spaces left between furniture.

  Emma noticed, for the first time really, the laws of the New North America written in large, black letters over the fireplace. They weren't written on anything, just painted right on the wall, extending the entire length of the drywall behind and above the fireplace. She remembered Kaylee asking about them and shrugging them off. But, staring down at her from the wall like they were, no consequences listed, just absolutes of what not to do, Emma saw now how menacing they could be.

  Jack stilled by the lantern, blocking most of the light in the room. The fireplace wasn't going; it sat, a dark empty, pit in the middle of the room. Jack's features were elongated, shadows streaking from his most prominent features. In this low light, his skin looked darker than ever. His eyes were shaded, pits like the fireplace.

  Harris didn't address either of them when he came back into the room, though he sat closest to Emma, on the square cushion next to her on the couch. She shifted at first, wondering why he chose that seat out of all the seats in the room, but it became clear when the rest shuffled in. They all sat opposite each other, four couches that squared off in the center of the room. Emma must have taken Harris's normal spot without knowing. He alone was well-groomed, obviously taking a moment to drag a comb through his hair before he rejoined them. Miranda wasn't even dressed yet. She had just pulled her winter jacket on over her sweatpants. The laces to her boots remained untied, hanging and trailing behind her the floor. For one horrid moment, Emma was reminded of Nicole's entrails, how they dragged behind her after she was shot, the shotgun blasting a hole through her abdomen and chest, the bloody streaks it left in the dirt behind her.

  Harris cleared her throat and Emma pushed the image from her mind, waiting for Jack to start.

  He told them first that they were leaving. They all sat up sharply at this, obviously not expecting it.

  "We just had our first snowfall!" Carla exclaimed. "You can't be serious. Why would you leave now?"

  Miranda and Samuel offered murmurs of agreement, their eyes darting from Emma to Jack. Jack stared at Harris, ignoring the others.

  "There'
s going to be some trouble," he said, speaking plainly. "And we want nothing to do with it. We want your word, after we tell you, we'll be free to go."

  The others didn't move, but Harris nodded starkly, watching for Jack's reaction.

  Jack spoke clearly but quickly. He told them about Michael, about Patrick's brother raising an army outside the gates. He told them about Patrick stirring unrest, about the meeting they were in at that very moment. He named the men he knew who were there. Emma interjected quickly to tell them Marco was not. She hoped he would be spared from whatever was about to happen.

  "I can't tell you what to do," Jack finished, shrugging. His voice was nonchalant but his posture wasn't; he stood, tense and restless, the lantern hissing behind him. His shadow threw itself across the room, a giant in the empty space among the Council. "But I'll hold you to your word. We're leaving now. C'mon, Emma."

  She rose to join him, stepping to cross in front of Harris. She turned when the glass behind her broke, almost falling in his lap. She sucked in a breath, cold air flooding the room from the broken window pane.

  Everyone froze. It was hard to see in the low light. Jack stepped forward, the lantern glow extending to the floor space in the center of the couches, and then he stepped back quickly, knocking the lantern to the floor. The flame hissed and spit, but that was low compared to the cracking fuse that had almost reached the lip of a duct-taped can.

  The homemade grenade exploded with a pop like a cherry bomb. Screams lit the small room as shards of metal flew like shrapnel. Even through her bulky coat, Emma could feel the sharp sting of the metal as it cut like blades into her skin.

  "Emma!" Jack screamed her name and she stumbled forward, tripping over Harris's feet and landing on the floor. Her ears were ringing with the force of the bomb and she saw stars when her head connected with the corner of an arm chair. Hands were yanking her to her feet, feeling down her body.

  "Don't," she slurred, "Jack, wait." He pulled her down behind a couch, peaking over the top to look towards the broken window. She put her hands out, feeling along her arm for the throbbing points. She caught the corner of a twisted bit of metal and gave a sharp tug. It came free, tearing a small chunk of her arm out with it. She whimpered, placing the piece gingerly on the floor before feeling for more.