“We could go to my office,” Rose continues. “Bonnie printed out the listings every week. There were always houses along the McKenzie River and up north. We could find one of those. Or how about Belknap? They have a lodge, and they’re on the river.”
Belknap Hot Springs is nestled at the base of the mountains, far from populated areas. I’ve been there a few times, but so has a good bit of Oregon. “People probably went there already,” I say. “They might not want more to show up.”
“What about Breitenbush Hot Springs?” Mitch asks. “They have geothermal power.”
“With the hippies?” Craig asks. “No way are we going there. They walk around naked.”
“That’s what I’m saying. They’ll let us in, and we can take down a bunch of hippies, easy.”
She gets a few laughs, though solemnity quickly returns. “We can’t leave,” Holly says.
“Why?” Rose asks.
“You’re fine leaving Dad, obviously, but not all of us are.” Holly’s face is mottled pink, and a tear works its way down her cheek. “You can go if you want, but I’m not coming.”
“Holly—” Rose begins. Holly ignores her and heads for the exit. After an apologetic glance, Clara follows, and Rose turns to the rest of us. “I was going to say we’d ask Ethan, too.”
“You think he’d come?” Mitch asks.
Rose’s shoulders slump. “Probably not, but I can ask.”
“I’ll do it,” Sam says.
“Maybe I should,” Jesse adds.
Rose shakes her head. “I’m not putting either of you in the middle of this.”
71
Rose
It takes all of my nerve to seek out Ethan in the infirmary, where he’s examining a little boy with a gash on his arm. Once he’s bandaged the cut, he hands the boy a lollipop. “Hey, River, next time someone dares you to climb a pile of metal, what are you gonna say?”
River smiles sheepishly. “No.”
Ethan pretends to be surprised. “I was going to say sure, but I think your answer’s better. Go with no.”
River and his mom laugh, and I smile. Ethan is good with kids. Good with people. Once mom and son are out the door, Ethan busies himself putting things away while I wait at the desk that separates waiting area from treatment area. After two long minutes, he faces me. “Do you need something?”
He asks like I’m a stranger. Worse, as though I’m a stranger he dislikes. I rub my cold hands together. “No. Well, yes. I have a question.” He says nothing, and I go on, “We’re talking about trying to find somewhere safer before those zombies get here. Maybe go toward the mountains. Is—is it something you’d consider?”
Ethan places a roll of gauze in a cabinet, his back to me. If my presence makes him nervous or upset, he hides it well. “Would I consider leaving where I’m needed and wanted to go to an indeterminate location with you and your friends who hate me?”
“And your children, who we both want safe,” I add. “They won’t go without you. No one hates you, Ethan.” His shoulders stiffen. “I’m sorry. I really—”
“Stop saying that.” He spins around, mouth twisted. “You’re not sorry. If you were, you wouldn’t have done this. So no, I’m not going, and neither are the kids, I guess.”
I nod slowly to conceal my fury. There’s a chance he’ll change his mind if I don’t provoke him. “You’re risking their lives in order to spite me?”
“As usual, you think it’s all about you. It’s safer here, Rose. What are you going to do? Hide in the mountains and live off berries?”
“We have some food already,” I say, ignoring his jibe. While my first impulse at being hurt is to retreat, Ethan’s is to attack. “We know where to get more.”
“How about fences? Guns?” His laugh is contemptuous. “You know what? You could tell me you have a goddamn castle in the mountains, and I wouldn’t go with you. You’d just as soon see me dead as try to save me.”
He makes good points about supplies—the same ones we raised ourselves—but I can’t believe he’s unwilling to consider something of such great consequence. Though I want to scream to make up for all the times I should’ve but didn’t, to let loose all the things I kept inside, I say quietly, “If you truly believe that, you know me less than I thought.”
Ethan’s hard expression turns remorseful. I think I’ve gotten through to him, until the door opens and he smiles past me, all thoughts of a truce abandoned. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
Eva stands in the doorway. Her eyes move over me dismissively and then stop on Ethan, at whom she smiles. “I decided to come in early. Should I come back later?”
“Nope. We’re done.” He waves her into the treatment area, giving me his back again. Eva brushes past me and joins him. “With so many people going out today, we’re bound to have more injuries. I organized a few things this morning. Let me show you.”
I watch for a few seconds, long enough for Eva to glance over her shoulder and offer me a cold smile. A proprietary smile. I spin on my heel and leave the infirmary. She can have him, and good riddance.
We roll car after car to the outlying streets until the lanes are blocked with a sea of traffic. It’s done under the watchful eye of armed guards, who quickly take care of any approaching threats. Whenever a short whistle blows, our orders are to stop and stand on the vehicle we push.
After one such whistle, Tom, Mitch, Craig, and I climb atop our current SUV. Eleven zombies lurch across the field to the west, more than any group so far, which likely means we’re drawing them. Dalton, the young blond soldier, stands in a jeep and rests his rifle on the roll bar while four more soldiers head into the field. I feel stupid waiting here, though not stupid enough to possibly die.
“I can’t believe Ethan said no.” Mitch crosses her arms over her chest. “What an asshole.”
I nod as the first four zombies go down, then watch the soldiers move for the next.
“That’s not all he said,” Craig murmurs. “Did you hear what he said about Barry?”
“Yes. It made him more of an asshole.”
I feel Tom looking at me, and I close my eyes briefly. “Could you two please stop?”
Craig shakes his head. “Of course we can’t. Why are you defending Ethan?”
“Oh my God, I’m not defending Ethan!” I whisper-yell.
“You are defending Holly,” Mitch says. “And she’s treating you like shit.”
“When did Holly become such a bitch?” Craig asks. “Don’t get me wrong, I like it, but not when it’s directed at you.”
Tom chuckles to my right. “I’m glad someone’s amused,” I say to him. “Welcome to my world. If they’re not fighting, they’re gossiping or ganging up on me.”
“We are not,” Craig says. “Right, Mitch?”
Mitch snorts. “We totally are. But only because we love you.”
At Tom’s next laugh, I elbow him, then jump to the street now that eleven zombies are on the grass. “You can all push as payback.”
I sit in the driver’s seat to steer while they push the SUV past houses on the right. The blooming spring flowers and bushes seem incongruous beside busted doors and broken windows. The grass is long now, full of Queen Anne’s Lace, and I can feel every mote of it in my sinuses.
Just ahead, Holly, Jesse, Clara, and Pop move another car. I watch Holly strain against the vehicle while she laughs at something Clara says. Last night, I found her in the Pavilion, but she deflected every attempt to discuss it further. I understand her anger, how she feels betrayed I didn’t tell her about Ethan, how scared she is that he’ll die. Although I understand, I can’t deny my feelings are hurt at how quickly she blamed me. She won’t admit how Ethan checked out of her life the past years. She wants everything to be the same. Maybe that’s partly the cause of her anger—I’ve made sure things will never, can never, be the same.
Once the vehicles are bumper to bumper, the eight of us walk down the street with the other residents on car detail. I pr
etend not to notice how Holly keeps her distance. As frustrating as it is to be her scapegoat, I’ve always encouraged Holly to speak up and tell people off. I just wasn’t planning on any of those people being me.
“Uncle Cray,” Jesse says, “you don’t have to be out here. Aren’t you tired?”
Craig drapes his arm around Jesse’s shoulders. “Not tired enough to ditch you guys.”
I smile at the sight of two of my favorite men together. Though I haven’t yet heard the full story of Craig’s adventures, I can tell they’ve changed him. He walks with more assurance rather than as though his existence in the world is unjustified, and my heart swells at the thought he’s finally beginning to recognize how awesome he is.
Craig glances in my direction. “Are you plotting to murder me?”
“Maybe,” I say, and arch one eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”
“You’re staring.”
“I stare because I love. If Mitch stares, get worried.”
“True.” Mitch mock-glares at him, but she can’t keep it up, so she whacks the back of his head. “I can’t believe you made it five hundred miles.”
“Me, neither.” Craig rubs his hair. “I wouldn’t have made it without Lana and the others.”
“How’d you talk them into dragging your sorry ass all this way?”
Craig’s lips twitch. “I told them they could hand me off to you guys once we were here.”
He could be insulted at her words, but Mitch burst into tears when she first saw him. It was only after she hugged him twenty times that she remembered her policy of friendly ridicule where Craig is concerned.
“Great,” Mitch replies. “I thought you were their new best friend. Now we’re stuck with you?”
“Forever,” Craig says.
Mitch only smiles. When she sees me watching, she says, “Shut up.”
72
Clara
All we’ve done for hours is move cars and bolster fences, but darkness has fallen and everyone not at a gate or boundary has been sent to rest. Jesse got a chance to shoot his gun when they collected more food on the east side of town, and now he sits at a table in the Pavilion while Nora and Marquez discuss how well he did.
“Bro, he took out two with perfect headshots,” Marquez tells Dalton. “He might be as good as you and Nora soon.”
Dalton, across the table, rubs his blond hair and grins. He smiles constantly, like a goofy, good-natured dog. He’s from the Dakotas somewhere, and though I suspect he’s not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, he’s quite possibly the nicest person ever. “That’s great. I’ll show you the M4 when we get a chance.”
“Cool,” Jesse says. “Thanks.”
Dalton’s dimples appear. When he looks to where Holly and I sit on a nearby table, they deepen more. He rises with a paper bag in hand and makes his way over.
“Hi, Holly,” he says upon his arrival. “I have something for you.”
He reaches into the bag and pulls out two cans of vegetarian soup, a package of vegan marshmallows, a box of crackers, and a container of shelf-stable hummus. Once everything is plunked onto the table, he smiles again. “There’s no meat in any of it.”
“I’m gay,” Holly blurts out.
I twist to the side so Dalton doesn’t see the laugh I manage to keep quiet. There’s a long silence, and when I turn back, his smile has grown slightly puzzled. “That’s good. Do you like the food?”
“Yes,” she says, her face beet red. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Dalton folds his bag carefully and walks away, but not before gracing us with a huge grin.
“What the hell was that?” I whisper.
“I have no idea.” Holly looks to me, her eyes round. “Does he not understand what gay means?”
“Maybe he thinks it means you’re really happy,” I say. “Like him.”
Holly drops her head into her hands while her shoulders shake. “Not again. Remember Jimmy?”
“How could I forget Jimmy?” Jimmy was in love with Holly during junior year of high school. No matter what she said or did, he thought she’d grow to love him, and Holly couldn’t bring herself to be mean in order to send him away. “That’s what happens when you’re overly nice.” I hesitate a moment, then say, “Speaking of being nice, your mom is—”
Holly holds up a hand, her amusement fading into a frown. “Do not bring up my mother.”
“Hols, maybe try to look at it from her side of things.”
“Jess already lectured me, so save your breath. Maybe you two should think of my dad’s side of things.”
I want to tell her about Ethan so badly that I forcibly clamp my lips. When I told Dad this morning, his expression went from shock to pity before he covered it up. Though he hasn’t shown Rose that pity, which she’d hate, he was at her side all day, as if to fend off anything coming in her direction. Holly might change her tune if she knew, but it’s not my place to break her heart where her father is concerned, even if I don’t agree with Rose’s reasoning.
“How could she not tell me?” Holly asks. “She didn’t tell me for years. Years.” Her voice fades on the last words, and she swipes at a stray tear. “No matter what I did, he was just so…distant. I decided he thought I hated him for using and he didn’t want to be as close or something. But if I’d known it was that, maybe…”
She blinks furiously. I always envied her relationship with Ethan, as it was everything my father-daughter relationship wasn’t. I know how it feels to wish your dad liked you, and now that I’m on the other side, I can imagine how much it would hurt to lose it again. Maybe her heart is already broken, just in a different way.
I put my arm around her shoulders. “I might not know much about dad stuff, but I know your dad loves and likes you. Your mom was trying to protect you, that’s all. If—”
“I’m tired of everyone trying to protect me.” Holly leans away, eyes blazing amber. “Holly can’t handle knowing anything, Holly can’t kill zombies, Holly is sweet and nice and weak.” She scowls in indignation. “Maybe it’s time to stop being nice.”
I lift an eyebrow, unable to keep my skepticism in check. “You, a bitch? I don’t think so.”
“Works for you,” she says, and I laugh. “Seriously, Clars. I’m done with that.”
As if to prove it, she slides off our table and waves to Dalton. He trots over, smile in place. “Hi, Holly!” he says, like they didn’t just speak four minutes ago.
Holly tugs at her hair. “I have a favor to ask. Do you think you could teach me how to use a gun and, like, tactical stuff or whatever?” She falters a little on the last part, since she has no idea what she’s talking about. She covers it with a smile that’s Nice Holly down to her toes, though there’s a grim determination behind it.
“Um…” Dalton peers around the room. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to—”
“I will,” Nora says, appearing to our left. “I’ll teach both of you, if you want.”
Holly sucks the corner of her lip, warring between not wanting to take anything from Nora and getting what she desires. After a few seconds, she says, “Okay, thanks. If you don’t mind.”
Nora face lights with pleasure. “Of course I don’t. Jesse and I have gate duty tonight, but we’ll start when everything calms down a little?”
Holly nods, eyes downcast. “Thanks,” I say to Nora. “Don’t get eaten out there.”
“Doing my best to avoid it,” she says.
Jesse stands and grabs his coat, holding it hooked on his fingers as he approaches. “What’s going on over here? Secret meeting?”
“Nora’s teaching them to shoot,” Dalton says.
Jesse puts a hand to his chest as though wounded. “I thought that was my job, Clary. You’ve ditched me already?”
“You haven’t clocked in,” I say. “You snooze, you lose.”
He graces me with his easy smile, and my legs go a little wobbly. “Nora’s the better choice, since she’s the one teaching me, but I can help.
That is if my sister, who isn’t speaking to me, will allow it.”
Holly rolls her eyes. “I’m speaking to you, idiot. Just not about one subject.”
Jesse grabs her in the crook of his arm. She smacks at him with no more effect than a pesky fly until he releases her with a resolute stare. “Fine. For now.”
“Go guard your gate and stay alive, asshole.”
“Your mom.” Jesse claps his hand to his mouth. “Can I still say that, or am I in trouble again?”
“Goodbye, Jesse Jerk Winter,” Holly says in the needling tone only a little sibling can achieve. Jeremy was a master at it.
“Goodbye, Jolly Holly.”
Although she hates being called Jolly Holly, she laughs. Jesse winks at me before he moves for the doors, which does things to my insides that go far beyond what a wink should do. I watch him walk, thinking that his squared shoulders and the gun at his side have done nothing to hurt his rear view.
“See you later, Holly.” Nora’s voice is as hopeful as her smile, and Holly’s cheeks redden in reply. I’ve always been glad I don’t blush like she does—she can hide nothing if her blood vessels decide to get in on the act. By the time Nora follows Jesse outside, Holly’s face has lightened from fuchsia to rose, but she’s still flustered.
“You’re gonna have to step it up if you want to be Bitchy Holly,” I say. “Otherwise, it seems Jolly Holly is here to stay.”
She flips me the bird.
73
Tom
The folding-chair area outside our drapery rooms has become a genuine living room with the addition of couches, chairs, and tables taken from houses by the fairgrounds. With all the comings and goings of people in the past days, fortifying the boundaries and collecting what we can, it was easy enough to grab furniture on the way back. The soldiers are too busy to argue if you take a little side trip. We managed to grab a few bikes as well, which could come in handy if we need to leave.
The Cascadia Series (Book 1): World Departed Page 70
