by E. M. Fitch
"They're filled with contagion," Jack whispered, the horror clear in his tone. "Those grenades, everyone hit will get infected."
Dull horror washed over Kaylee. She couldn't take her eyes off her sister, understanding now why she had launched herself over Andrew.
"The Council-" Anna started. Jack cut her off.
"Dead. They threw one in the cabin."
Harris. Kaylee's eyes left her sister, stirring over Andrew's still body, to search for Harris. He survived the cabin, survived that first bomb. He didn't survive the next.
At least a dozen people were twitching in the snow, their friends and neighbors leaning over them, confused. From their copse in the trees, Kaylee could see as ragged breaths changed to growls. Harris stood first, his gait unsteady. He snarled at a nearby man, lunging for him and tearing into his neck with his teeth.
People scattered as the chaos took hold. Screams rent the air. Just as the body of the man Harris was tearing apart hit the snowy ground, flecking the beaten down white with bits of red, men started pulling at the gate from the outside. A bolt cutter was slipped through and was working at the chain. Emma stood and ran towards Kaylee, followed by Andrew. Her face had been hit, but only just, a thin scratch shone bright red across her cheekbone. Otherwise, they both seemed fine.
Shots were fired, the bursts of noise mingled with the groans and snarls. Kaylee followed the pressure of Jack's hand on hers, urging her towards the square. People were sprinting across in every direction, firing guns at random.
Heat flared over her face, fear and adrenaline washing out every other emotion, leaving only the urge to flee, to run, to find somewhere, anywhere safe. The square was busy, too busy, people everywhere, blood running in a small, warm river from a nearby body. Two infected people tearing at the flesh, the lush, hot sounds of their carnage seeming loud even in the tumult.
Kaylee was ahead, her eyes on Jack and the building he was darting for. The mess hall was so close, yet the bodies between them and it made it feel far away. It was the gurgled scream that caused her to stop, snow flying as her boots skidded across the frozen earth.
"Emma!" Andrew shouted. Kaylee turned and saw her friend launch himself through the air, colliding with a bloody body. They rolled together in the snow, grunts and teeth snapping. Jack ran towards them as Kaylee raced for her sister. Emma was on her back, her arm up protectively over her face. Kaylee could see the bright red staining on Emma's hand and knew the man had bit her. Beneath the gurgling blood, an impression of teeth could be seen, torn into her skin.
"Get up," Kaylee hissed, tugging Emma to her feet. The younger girl looked dazed, but her eyes stayed clear. She gripped her sister's arm steadily with her good hand, bringing the sleeve of her coat down to cover her new wound. Anna ran up behind them, grabbing Emma under the elbow. They half-dragged her towards the mess hall, the door hanging ajar, as Emma twisted around, screaming for Andrew.
Kaylee and Anna pulled her through the mess hall door, slamming it shut behind them. Startled whimpers sounded from the corner of the rectangular room, followed by masculine shushing. Kaylee sucked in a breath, peering into the darkened corners.
The door slammed into Kaylee's back and she lurched forward. Jack and Andrew burst through and Emma struggled out of Anna's grip to fling herself at Andrew.
He wrapped his arms around her. "Stop, don't touch me," she murmured.
Jack stepped next to Kaylee, his fingers seeking hers. She returned the firm pressure, signaling that she was fine. Anna breathed softly next to her, her body tense. Another round of gunshots sounded in the square and instinctively, everyone ducked.
"Are you bit?"
The voice was hard and familiar from the distant corner. Emma disentangled herself from Andrew, Kaylee could see her relieved gaze shoot across the darkened space.
"Marco?"
The man in question stepped from the shadows, eyeing the group suspiciously. He spoke only to Emma. "Corey said he saw you. That you were infected. He said it was you all along."
"Where is Corey now?" Jack asked, his fingers tightening on the grip of his gun.
"Dead," Marco answered, his gaze sweeping through them. "But not before he could warn the rest of us."
"Warn you of what?" Emma asked in a whisper.
"That you were the living infected. That you were the reason this all broke out, every time. It was you."
"It wasn't-" Emma started. Marco cut her off.
"You didn't tell us, not any of us. And all this time, every time someone was killed, you just watched."
"Didn't you see those grenades? It wasn't her," Jack said firmly. He stepped forward into the space and Marco raised his gun. "We just want to sneak out the back. It's crazy in the square, we can't go back that way-"
"Maybe you should, maybe I should send you all back to the hell you created," he said, his voice rising in volume. "These people didn't deserve this!"
"Marco, I'm not-"
"She's covered in blood," someone whispered. Even with the pandemonium going on outside and throughout the square, the whisper carried in the enclosed space. Others started.
"-scratched, there on her cheek-"
"-dripping everywhere-"
"-what happened to her hand?"
Kaylee could see the slow drip, drip of warm, dark blood on the scuffed hardwood floor. Emma's hand hung still at her side, the slow trickle of blood splashing at her feet. She could hardly bring attention to it, wrap the bite, when everyone was staring at her. So she stayed still, quietly watching the rising storm in front of her as Kaylee was, both understanding they would have to go through it to survive.
"It's true, isn't it?" Marco asked in a low whisper. "You are infected. It was you."
"She is not infected," Andrew snarled.
"We just want to leave," Jack added, not lowering his gun.
"Show me her hand," Marco countered.
The response was immediate, Kaylee, Anna, and Jack moved forward, forming a wall between the waiting crowd and Emma. Andrew moved beside Emma, pushing her slightly behind his body. Kaylee could just see him from the corner of her eye, stoic and angry, tension rolling off every muscle in his body. Jack stood firmly in the center, slowly shaking his head.
The crowd across the mess hall broke out in angry whispers that rose like waves, spitting horrible truths across the space.
"She's getting blood everywhere, shoot her Marco!"
"She'll get us all killed. If Patrick finds us with her-"
"What are you waiting for? We let infected people live among us now?"
The hissing was angry and scared, mostly women, Kaylee noticed. She recognized the bitter tones of Jan and Samantha, huddled with the mob.
"She's not infected," Andrew roared. "She's immune!"
The mob broke, several of the women surged forward, pushing passed the hesitant Marco and lunging forward with poles and pieces of broken furniture. Jack didn't pull the trigger, even as Jan swung a broken table leg at him. It slammed into his raised forearm and he grunted, bringing his boot up to her to kick her back. Women were scratching and trying to push passed Kaylee and Anna and she strained, pushing back but knowing it was fruitless. They were outnumbered, they would be overrun. Her sister would be torn to pieces. Kaylee looked wildly around, even as someone raked nails down her face and reached behind her, grasping air but reaching for Emma. Andrew wasn't helping. Kaylee saw his body turn, spinning on the spot and pushing Emma back into the solid wall behind them.
Andrew moved into Emma and she stumbled, falling against the wall. He didn't hesitate, his hands wrapped around her arms, pinning her back. She went to protest, her mouth hanging open, but he cut her off. He pressed his lips to hers and her whole body spasmed. Emma scrambled against his hold, struggling to wrench her mouth away but he stepped closer, pinning her to the wall with his body as his hands sought her face, anchoring her mouth to his.
The mob froze, several women cried out. Everyone spun, both Marco and Jack pointing their
guns to the corner where Andrew towered over Emma. Even from where she stood, locked frozen in shock and fear, Kaylee could hear her sister's defeated whimper.
And then her gasp. Kaylee watched as their combined lips smeared red with blood from the bite Andrew delivered to Emma's mouth. Tears spilled from her sisters clenched eyes.
Andrew pulled back slowly, his eyes locked on Emma. Everyone was silent, nothing but heavy breathing and the muffled sounds of groaning and gunfire from the square. "You are not infected," Andrew whispered. A sob broke through from Emma.
"Why, why did you do that?" she said, her voice breaking. He was still pinning her to the wall and she struggled to bring her hands up, stroking the side of his face and using her thumb to wipe the smear of her blood from his lip.
"You are not infected," he whispered again, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to hers.
Jack hadn't taken his eyes from Andrew's frame, his gun out, his arm tense. Marco looked confused and nervous, even as the rest of the women slowly backed away. Seconds passed, Andrew kept repeating, over and over, "You are not infected," as tears streaked Emma's face. At first the mantra was slow, reverent, like a prayer. But as the seconds stretched, as Andrew stood tall and straight and still, his cadence shifted and the words became triumphant.
"You are not infected," he said, smiling now. Emma shook her head in disbelief. Her lips, still red, parting in wonder.
"It could just be slow, you could-" she whispered. He cut her off, kissing her again. Her arms came around him as he moved forward and Kaylee could see the tentative movement of her mouth against his. When he broke away this time, he was grinning, his eyes lighting as he watched her.
"You are not infected." He said it slowly, his gaze soft and tender. "Immune, not infected."
"So, she was bit?" Marco asked in wonder. No one answered.
"Maybe you're just immune," Emma continued, her breathing picking up again. "They're right. I could be a danger, maybe you're just-"
Kaylee moved forward now, shaking Jack's warning hand off her arm. She grabbed her sister from Andrew's hold, caught her jaw between both hands, and kissed her right on the mouth. Tension saturated the group behind them, voyeurs to the fear. Emma cried out as Kaylee released her. Kaylee turned towards Andrew with a grin, her tongue darting out, tasting the blood from her sister's wounded mouth.
"Immune. Not infected," she said through a smile. She held her hands out in front of her. Andrew did the same. Both were steady, no shaking.
Emma's breath was fast, panicky as she watched her sister and Andrew. The seconds stretched. The women all drifted back, confused and uncertain but no longer trying to kill anyone. Gunfire from the square was present, but sporadic, usually preceded by guttural moans and cries.
Emma let out a shaky laugh through her tears, stopping to wipe the remaining blood from her lips. She finally nodded, smiling up at Andrew. "You're an idiot."
"And you're a stubborn pain in my ass."
"Corey was so sure," Marco whispered. His eyes were locked on Emma, his brow furrowed. "He swore that's how the infection got in."
"It was Patrick," Jack explained in a rush. "It's been him for a long time. Him and his brother, Michael."
"Mike?" Marco asked in a horrified rush. "No, Mike was kicked out, ages ago."
Jack explained in a rushed whisper, told the huddled group the short version. Some didn't seem all that surprised and it made Kaylee wonder, how many insane groups had they all belonged to before this?
Kaylee and the rest had only had each other at the start of this insane world. They were family already, sisters, daughters, sons, fathers. Anna had fit in so naturally, an older sister, so non-confrontational with her textbooks and desire to heal. But it wasn't like that everywhere. The Mill, the Circle, now here. Power and struggles, using starvation, knowledge, even the infection to further their own status, hedge their bets. It was horrifying and sad, and a truer loss of humanity than the infection itself could ever be.
"We're leaving," Jack concluded. "Out the back and over a fence. Any of you are welcome to come with us."
It should have surprised Kaylee when only a handful decided to, but then again, maybe she should have expected it.
Chapter 20
The air was cold and still when they exited the back of the mess hall. Jack went first, Kaylee right behind him. Her boot broke through the crust of untouched snow as she moved to the corner of the building. Gunshots sounded all around them, peppering the woods. But they were distant, reminding Kaylee of fireworks that were going off where she couldn't see them. Bursts and pops with no sign of death or destruction.
There was no time now to revel in the miracle of Emma's immunity. Something precious had shifted in her sister though, Kaylee saw it in her expression when she looked back to make sure Emma was behind her. She looked truly frightened for the first time that day. She jumped at every noise, her hand kept fast in Andrew's.
She finally had something to lose, a future with Andrew, and she was terrified it would be taken from her. Something clenched in Kaylee's chest at the realization. She ran her tongue over her lips, tasting the residual blood there, and firmed her resolve. They needed to get out of here before the chaos settled and Patrick and Michael were able to reunite and take stock of their conquest.
Because they would win, Patrick's men and the Circle combining would sweep through the camp, win over whoever they needed to. Not with the stories they'd concoct. Those wouldn't really matter. They could tell everyone it was Emma who started all of this, make it sound believable, even though it wasn't true. Even though the women huddled together in the mess hall knew it wasn't true. They could spin that lie, hold the members of the Circle high as heroes, form a new Council, pretend they played by any rules, but it none of it would matter. None of the people left had strength enough to oppose them. It would all be for show.
Just as it was with the last Council. Rules for everyone but themselves, ways to destroy those who opposed them or presented a threat.
She sucked a breath in when she turned the corner of the mess hall to follow Jack back across the empty square.
Bodies. Everywhere, in huddled piles, melted puddles of slush and snow and blood all churned into the mud. Boot prints ran around and over them, trampling the people into the earth. None of them were moving.
"Rebecca." Kaylee heard the name fall softly from Anna's lips and she followed her line of sight. The bushy hair looked commonplace, ordinary, and yet at the same time so familiar that it was like a punch to the gut. Kaylee couldn't see her face, her body was already crumpled in the snow, lifeless.
What was she even doing here? This poor woman who had no where else to turn, why had they coerced her to do this? Because this wouldn't have been her idea. She wasn't strong, couldn't fend for herself, and so Kaylee could understand how she would have complied. If Michael gave her a gun and told her to point in any one direction, Kaylee could imagine her doing it. But she was defenseless in so many ways, too. Getting her to do this, it was as good as killing her himself.
Kaylee reached back blindly and grabbed for Anna's hand. Disgust flooded her stomach. A hatred, not for the men themselves but for their way of life seared her belly. She wanted to leave, wanted to take everyone she could away from here and never look back. She found her eyes moving longingly towards the front gate. A dangerous, wonderful idea occurred to her.
"I bet they don't have a guard on the vehicles," she said, looking to Jack. Marco appeared beside her, one of the few who decided to leave with them.
"You don't think?" he asked in a hushed tone. She shook her head.
"They didn't before," she reasoned. "And even if they do, it won't be more than a couple of people."
"We could take a car, get far away from here," Anna whispered. The rest seemed hesitant.
"They'd follow," Andrew argued.
"I can take care of that," Jack said, gritting his teeth.
They crossed the square as silently as possible, p
icking their way carefully through bodies that wouldn't even notice they were there. Trampled snow made a clear path to the front gate. Kaylee could see the top of it through the bare branches that now stretched overhead. The sun had mostly risen now, brilliant orange making way for the palest of blues. The group stopped as one when they heard the first moan. It was joined by another, and then more, before they realized that it was the infected from the moat.
The Circle had left a single guard. A young man that Kaylee recognized but whose name she never knew. He was perched on the bumper of a jeep, a shot gun loose in his hands.
"Don't move," Jack called out clearly, moving from the trees to stand in front of the boy. He tensed up immediately, raising the barrel of his gun. "Stop."
At Jack's order, he froze. Jack nodded for Andrew to secure the gun and he did. He handed the weapon off to Anna, telling the guard to get on his knees and stay quiet. As soon as he knelt, Anna came up behind him and smashed the butt of the gun into his head. He fell face first in the snow.
"Just in case," she muttered to Kaylee. The boy was alive, but wouldn't bother them any more.
The Circle's cars were parked in a scattered formation all along the gate entrance. Some were so close to the gate, there was no way to even pull the doors closed. Andrew and Emma were ushering people forward. Marco was already under the dashboard of one of the jeeps, one closest to the exit. Kaylee heard the distinct spark of him hot-wiring the vehicle and then a rev of the engine. He offered a tight smile as the few people who had followed them jumped in the back.
"Get out passed the grates," Jack said. Marco nodded and took off. Kaylee wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but the gunfire sounded close again. Jack looked hurriedly in the windows of the vehicles nearest him. He reached into an armored van and pulled out a set of keys, tossing them towards Anna. "Take everyone out with Marco. I'll be right behind."
"We'll be right behind," Kaylee corrected, daring Jack with a look to argue. There wasn't time. A bullet nicked one of the trees nearby, showering the snowy ground with bark fragments. Emma and Andrew got into the back of the van Jack indicated, her sister shooting her an awful, pleading look. Jack smacked the side and it took off, tires crunching over ice and left-over debris from the grenades.
