Saving Humanity Series (Book 2): Edge of Humanity

by Sinclair, Pembroke

  A bee-boop echoed throughout the enclosed concrete area, followed by flashing lights on a black truck. Samuel gestured for Caleb to go ahead, and he stepped up to the truck and opened the door. The interior was gray leather and the smell of new plastic mixed with the seats. Caleb plopped himself into the seat and pulled on his seat belt. He refused to let himself think about the ridiculous amount of luxury he was surrounded by after three-quarters of the world had been destroyed. He didn’t care why Zomtech had these vehicles and what they used them for. There were so many other things he had to worry about.

  The lump in his throat attempted to cut off his airway as thoughts about the breakfast he’d just had with Eric ran through his mind. It hadn’t escaped his notice when Hale had stayed behind, even when the doctor said he was heading to his lab. Eric had hugged him long and hard before they parted ways, whispering in Caleb’s ear for him to be careful. Caleb told him the same thing. He hoped Hale wasn’t watching Eric like a hawk, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if he was. Still, he hoped Eric used caution when going after the “remote.” He didn’t want anything bad to happen to his guardian.

  The driver’s side door closed and shook the truck slightly. Caleb turned to Samuel.

  “Why wasn’t Jan at breakfast?”

  Samuel shrugged. “She had other plans.”

  Caleb tightened his fist. Images of zombies tearing her apart ran through his mind, followed by Samuel laughing in the background. Like Rachel’s death, Caleb wouldn’t have been surprised at all if Samuel had filmed it. He was probably holding on to it for the right moment to keep Caleb under control.

  “What kind of plans?”

  Samuel sighed and turned to Caleb, his jaw muscles tight. “I don’t know, Caleb. I didn’t ask.”

  Caleb narrowed his eyes. “Did you do something to her?”

  Samuel mimicked Caleb’s narrowed eyes. “Are you going to believe what I tell you?”

  Caleb bit the inside of his cheek. Samuel had a point. No matter what he was told, he would be suspicious of the truth. He shrugged. Samuel huffed again, a reaction telling Caleb he was getting annoyed, but Caleb didn’t really care. He wanted to get under Samuel’s skin and drive him crazy; it could lead to Samuel making a mistake and giving Caleb a chance to escape. Not only that, but Samuel’s irritation reminded him he was human and not any better than Caleb—no matter how much he believed he was.

  “The last time I saw Jan was when we left the pizza place. Did I send someone to her place to tell her about breakfast? Yes. But she wasn’t home. Do we have people looking for her? Yes. Are they going to hurt her? Not as long as she doesn’t do anything stupid.” Samuel raised his eyebrows and stared at Caleb hard, as if the action was enough to convince him he told the truth.

  Caleb wanted to believe him. There seemed to be a conviction in his words, but after Samuel’s betrayal and imprisonment in Samuel’s apartment, it was hard.

  Suspicion will keep you alive. Trust is for the weak.

  He couldn’t do anything for Jan now anyway. He had to hold on to the thought she had been smart enough to get away. She knew the risks. The thought didn’t make him feel better. No matter what he told himself, he would always be the reason Jan got involved. It was his fault if anything happened to her, no matter how hard he tried to prepare her.

  Caleb and Samuel stared at each other for a moment longer. Caleb studied his face, hoping something in his features would give away whether Samuel was lying. When he found nothing there, he turned away and directed his gaze out the window. The truck roared to life around Caleb and backed slowly out of the parking space. Caleb’s muscles tensed; his senses sharpened. He had to be aware of everything going on around him, so he could escape when the opportunity presented itself—and he was sure it would present itself. The garage door lifted, letting in the gray hue of the city. Caleb’s muscles tensed further; his heart fluttered with anticipation.

  Wait until you’re out of the city. You actually have to get away this time.

  Caleb stared out the window at the city streets. So many times, he glanced down them, fighting the urge to run. He’d always talked himself out of running, convinced himself his contribution to the computers at Zomtech was more important than hiding. Now, he couldn’t wait to head down them. The world outside the city was full of walking corpses, but they wouldn’t hurt him. He was safe out there.

  “You still pouting over there?”

  Caleb refused to turn and acknowledge Samuel. He had to stay focused on his chance.

  “Take one last look, Caleb. You’ll never come back to this city.”

  This piqued Caleb’s interest. He turned to Samuel. “What?”

  The edge of the city drew nearer. The flutter of anticipation slowly morphed into worry and anxiety. It was one thing to imagine leaving the city, but it was different when the situation actually arose. Maybe a chance wouldn’t present itself for him to escape. What would he do then? The city was the closest thing he’d called home in a while, and it surprised him to think he’d never see it again.

  “What did you think was going to happen? We’d run tests, figure out your secret, and then bring you back to live your life like normal?” Samuel had a pompous tone in his voice.

  Caleb hadn’t thought about the after; he was barely able to deal with the now. He wasn’t sure what would happen in an hour let alone anything beyond. A small part of his brain had assumed once they had answers about his capabilities, he would go back to living a normal life. But as he thought about it now, it seemed ridiculous. What did “normal” mean? Did his life at Zomtech constitute normal? At one point in time, he thought so, and it was mundane and pointless. This was his chance to grow beyond mundane and pointless, to be so much more—and it scared him more than he had ever imagined.

  “You’re far too important for that, Caleb.” Samuel glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “You deserve the best.”

  The skyscrapers at the center of the city gave way to shorter businesses. The gray hue morphed into the soft orange of morning.

  “Remember in Matt’s bunker when I said you were like a god?” He paused, waiting for a response Caleb didn’t give. “Well, I wasn’t kidding, and you should be treated accordingly.”

  The thought made Caleb’s skin crawl. He didn’t want the responsibility or pressure of being viewed as a god. It would only lead to disappointment and destruction. The fact Samuel kept referring to him as such was even more disconcerting. Caleb didn’t doubt it was a way to manipulate him. If he could flatter him and feed his ego, the easier it would be to bend him to his will. Well, Caleb wasn’t easy to manipulate. He was still pretty naïve and impressionable, but to appeal to his ego, Caleb would have to have self-confidence and esteem to build up. Samuel’s approach to this was so wrong.

  Caleb refrained from scoffing. “Surely I’m not the only one. What happens when you find others?”

  “Oh, I’m sure there are others, but you’re the one we have. Let’s do what we can to ensure your comfort, then we’ll worry about the rest when we have to.”

  Anger flashed across Caleb’s chest. The muscles poised for escape tightened in irritation. “My comfort? You say it like I’m a guest in some five-star hotel.”

  Samuel chuckled. “There’s the sulky, whiny Caleb I’ve gotten to know over the past few days. Things will change once we leave the city. You’ll see.”

  Caleb stared at the side of Samuel’s face, taking deep breaths to remain calm. His eyes narrowed to slits. He fought the urge to lash out at Samuel and verbally and physically assault him for the current situation. Arguing wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

  Be patient. Be smart.

  The buildings faded from around them. Light penetrated the truck, surrounding Caleb in warmth, but he didn’t feel comforted. Shadows tainted the edges; the darkness waited, always ready to edge its way in, and Caleb had no energy to fight it. Just like he was tired of fighting Samuel. They headed down the road toward the mountains. The route
would take them by the road leading to Matt’s desert bunker. Caleb had no delusions Matt would try to save him. He had no idea Caleb was in trouble.

  And you don’t want to be his prisoner either.

  Samuel pressed the gas, and the truck roared forward. If Caleb had any ideas of jumping out on the side of the road, they quickly slipped away. Caleb was desperate to get away, but he wanted to survive it—or at least not be horribly mangled.

  Closing his eyes, Caleb continued to take deep breaths. His muscles relaxed, but he never completely settled down. He could only hope the electric feeling buzzing through his body would give him an edge. Samuel had climbed back on his pedestal and talked down to Caleb, which wasn’t helping his mood—or his position of power. It was time to get Samuel as irritated as he was.

  He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Samuel. “How many zombies have you killed?”

  Samuel adjusted in his seat and cleared his throat. “More than I feel I’ve had to.”

  The answer was vague, but at the same time, it was something Caleb would use as a response. Still, he felt it was too convenient. And since the goal was to make Samuel uncomfortable and annoyed, Caleb pressed for more information.

  “Isn’t that true for all of us? Ballpark it. What’s your best estimate?”

  Samuel pushed his eyebrows together and glanced at Caleb for a second before turning his eyes back to the road. The condition of the road worsened, and the truck bounced on the cracked and broken asphalt. Caleb tried to be nonchalant about grabbing the handle over his head to steady himself. He didn’t want to panic quite yet, but if they went any faster or the road got worse, he was going to say something.

  “This really something you want to talk about? From your file, this topic puts you in a bad place. Triggers anxiety and depression.”

  Caleb cringed. His damn file. Too much information about him was out there. Just the thought of it made him feel vulnerable and exposed. The fact Samuel brought it up meant Caleb’s play to get him fired up might not be working as planned, and Samuel was right. He hated this topic, but he hoped Samuel did too—he wasn’t going to give up quite yet.

  “I don’t think you’ve killed any. I don’t think you’ve had any contact with them except in a controlled environment.”

  Samuel tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “And you’re basing this assumption on what?” His voice was tense, but Caleb couldn’t tell if it was from irritation or something else.

  “You’re not afraid of them.”

  Samuel scoffed. “What’s to be afraid of? They’re just rotting flesh.”

  Caleb turned his attention to the mountains in front of him. “If you’d seen them tear a loved one apart, you’d know.”

  The truck drifted into silence for several long moments. Caleb wondered what thoughts ran through Samuel’s mind; if he thought about everyone he’d ever lost. Caleb attempted not to. Maybe this topic was a bad idea.

  Samuel eventually broke the silence. “You don’t seem to be afraid of them. When the RBZs and regulars attacked in the park, you jumped right into action and killed two regulars with your bare hands. You jumped into the zombie ghetto, for crying out loud. I doubt fear is an indicator of anything.”

  Caleb averted his gaze to his lap and turned his hands over to look at his tattoos. “They scare me to death,” he said quietly. “That’s why I hate them so much.”

  “Well, to see you around them, no one would know you’re afraid. You do what you have to do to survive.”

  Caleb lifted his head and fixed his gaze forward. “And if you had been in the thick of the action, you would do the same.”

  Splashes of crimson and muffled screams ran through Caleb’s brain. The faint taste of salt and chocolate danced on his tongue. A shudder ran through his body.

  Samuel took a deep breath, and Caleb wondered if Samuel was going to tell him a story about killing zombies or watching his friends or family get killed. His thoughts drifted to the video of Rachel. Although he’d never had it confirmed, he was sure Samuel had filmed it—and took pleasure in what had happened. There were regulars there, and the cameraman didn’t show any fear. No, Samuel wasn’t afraid of the creatures, even though he should have been. Still, Caleb waited for Samuel to speak.

  Samuel never got the chance. Instead, the deafening bang of metal on metal resounded through the truck, and Caleb slammed into the door. Blazing hot pain tore through his shoulder, stars danced in front of his eyes. Blackness attempted to cover Caleb’s vision, but he kept it mostly at bay. It made it difficult for Caleb to see, but it kept him conscious of the intense pain. Caleb preferred unconsciousness, but he obviously wasn’t going to get it.

  CHAPTER 6

  The world spun violently around Caleb. His body was tossed aggressively from side to side. His muscles strained to the point he thought they would snap. His bones felt like they would shatter like glass with every jostle. As abruptly as the motion started, it stopped, but Caleb’s head didn’t. It continued to spin inside his skull. Nausea gripped his stomach, and points of light burst in his vision. An eerie silence pervaded the truck. Sand and dust threatened to choke him. He closed his eyes and took shallow breaths. He regretted eating breakfast as the salty meatiness of bacon climbed into the back of his throat. Pain covered every inch of his body. He stayed as still as possible to let the dizziness and discomfort wane. As much as he wanted to, Caleb knew he couldn’t stay motionless forever. He had to find out where he was and ensure he wasn’t in any more danger.

  Swallowing down vomit, Caleb opened his eyes and tried to get his bearings. He wasn’t as dizzy, and the dust settled, but neither of those made the hurt in his body dissipate. He was against the passenger door of the truck, gravity pulling him down and telling Caleb the truck rested on its side; the window and windshield were spiderwebs of cracks. The dash had been thrust into his knees, pushing Caleb into his seat, and the seatbelt had tightened. With difficulty, Caleb pushed the button to release the belt. It clicked free, allowing Caleb to inhale a deep breath, which he immediately regretted. A sharp pain pinched him near his sternum and caused him to cough, which sent tendrils of extreme pain around his chest, making his ribs feel like they were on fire. Another wave of pain washed over the rest of his body, and the bacon inched its way up his throat again.

  I’m going to lay here until this passes.

  Are you crazy? This is your chance! Get out! Get away!

  He groaned. It probably was his only chance to get away. He had to assess the situation. Caleb lifted his head as far as he could. As he turned to look at Samuel, something dripped onto his lips. Instinctively, he licked it off. The taste of salt and chocolate danced across his tongue—one hundred times more delicious than what he had experienced in his dream. He ran his tongue across his lips to lick every last drop, but the flavor faded. Two more drops hit his face: one on his cheek and one on his philtrum. His tongue flicked out and snagged it. He shuddered as the deliciousness traveled across his tongue. More drips hit his face. His mouth opened to catch them like a hungry baby bird. As he positioned himself to catch the next one, it became apparent they came from Samuel. He was bent at an awkward angle. Gravity pulled him toward the ground, which was beneath Caleb’s door, but the seat belt and middle console kept Samuel from falling into Caleb. Unconsciousness had overtaken him. His hair was wet and slick dripping onto Caleb. It wasn’t water or sweat. It was blood.

  Caleb snapped his mouth shut and recoiled. Unfortunately, he couldn’t go far, and the blood continued to hit him. He waited for nausea and revulsion to make him puke—he wanted them to make him sick—but there was nothing. Even the bile from earlier had settled down. In fact, he felt a little better. The pain in his body had waned, and his head wasn’t pounding as hard.

  It’s all in your head. You’re just imagining you feel better.

  The voice in the darkness responded by chuckling softly.

  I have to get out of here.

  The thought of getting out a
nd getting away was more than appealing; it was a necessity. He didn’t want to think about the fact he had drunk—and enjoyed—Samuel’s blood. What did this make him? Nothing. It made him nothing, and it was time for him to disappear. Caleb struggled to push himself away from the door. He may have been feeling slightly better, but he was far from being 100 percent—or even 50 percent. The pain flared anew. He pushed through it and freed his legs from under the dash. It took longer than he had expected, and when he was out, his muscles shook with exertion, and he was sweating. Samuel continued to drip on him.

  Just a few drops and you’ll feel so much better. The voice in the darkness laughed.

  Caleb ignored it and crouched on the door. Getting out of his door was out of the question, and sand covered the windshield—he had no idea how much but doubted he had the strength to kick it out anyway. His best bet was Samuel’s door. Straightening up to crawl past Samuel was pure agony. Every joint popped, muscles pulled, his breath caught in his lungs. Being right next to Samuel, he saw the red-black liquid covered his face. He couldn’t tell where the cut was located, but it looked bad. Both his arms were on the wheel, trapped by the circle, and his left wrist was cocked at an odd angle. It was purple and swelling. It was more than likely broken. Still, it would have to be moved so Caleb could get out.

  Before he could, though, Caleb had to find out if he could open the door. Stretching up again, he reached for the handle. He could pull it down, but he didn’t have the strength to push it up. He needed to reposition, but doing so meant getting closer to Samuel. He hadn’t moved in a while, and Caleb wondered if he was still alive. Nothing mattered if he turned; zombies wouldn’t hurt him, but he needed to know. Samuel’s death would solve several problems. The first on the list was Caleb getting away. The second was justice for Rachel’s murder. Caleb adjusted so Samuel’s face was directly in front of him. He tried to watch his chest to see if it rose and fell, but Samuel was positioned at an angle making it impossible to tell. Cautiously, he reached forward and placed his fingers on Samuel’s neck. Warm, sticky blood flowed quickly over his hand. Caleb wasn’t sure, but he thought he felt a weak heartbeat. He pulled his hand away and stared at the blood on his fingers. Without a thought or mental protest, they were in his mouth, and his eyes rolled back with the ecstasy of the taste. He licked his fingers clean, then stared at Samuel. On his neck, a river of blood flowed onto Samuel’s face. It would only require Caleb moving a few inches to get to the sweet fluid. His mouth watered at the thought. He moved forward slowly.