by Fitch, E. M.
Excitement mingled with fear. Apprehension. It surged in her belly, roiled and pitched. And tainting it only slightly was guilt.
If anything went wrong…
If anything happened to any one of them as a result of this decision to leave it would be her fault. Because it was her fault they were leaving. Jack wouldn’t leave her and Quinton couldn’t leave him and so, by means of half-deceits and careful wording, they would all be leaving together.
And no matter how they had gotten her father to believe Emma was the answer for the cure, no matter how much Kaylee wished it to be true, there was some part of her, some nagging little part that squirmed uncomfortably, that whispered and taunted…
It’s not true.
It wasn’t. Emma may be fine and she may stay that way forever, in a sense. She would never be fine in some ways. She’d never share utensils again. Even now Bill insisted that she have her own set and use only those. But that was fine, just like she had the flu or something. There were worse things, things Kaylee was only starting to think of.
She’d never be kissed. She’d never have children. How could she? Who could get that close without fear of infection? And even if someone was willing to try, how could Emma let them, knowing that the person she loved may be lost forever at her touch?
And it was only now, now that the chance was ripped forever from her sister that Kaylee saw what Anna meant when she had said that someday soon, Kaylee might not mind having children.
The door to the roof slammed open, knocking into the brick wall. The sound reverberated through the night, startling Kaylee and making her jerk away from the cold, soapy water. She stumbled to the side, knocking the large basket of dirty clothes over. Bill stood framed in the low light of the door.
“Sorry,” he grunted, nodding towards the clothing spilling out all over the rooftop. Kaylee nodded towards him, keeping her eyes averted. She had never felt overly comfortable with Andrew’s father. They didn’t have much in common and he was never very warm towards her. His recent actions, and hers, could only serve to drive them further apart. After all, he was willing to shoot and kill her sister and she had rejected his son.
“It’s fine,” Kaylee answered automatically, bending to pick the clothing up. She was surprised when Bill’s weathered hand offered a pair of jeans. “Thanks.”
“There’s going to be a meeting later,” he barked out, looking uncomfortable. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot and his eyes darted from the spilled laundry to the horizon and then, very reluctantly, to Kaylee herself. “Your Dad doesn’t want—”
“Us to know?” she cut in, tiredly. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“But you should know,” he continued. “You should be there.”
Kaylee felt her eyebrows quirk in question.
“I never agreed with his stance to keep you girls out of it. It forced my hand with Andrew on more than one occasion. You are old enough to understand the concerns about re-population and to make your own choices there. You should be allowed to hear what’s being said and to offer opinions, it’s only fair.” Bill spoke with a fierce edge of conviction that surprised Kaylee. She had always assumed he wanted to shield Emma and she just as much as their father did. Now she could see it was really only ever Nick. Anna gave information freely, so long as one asked the right questions. And now Bill was encouraging her to meet with the adults and offer her opinion. The world was certainly shifting.
“Where and when?” Kaylee asked, her jaw set in determination. The time was long past for her to act like the adult she was growing to be.
“Your room, two hours,” Bill said, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. It was the strongest emotion other than irritation that Kaylee had noticed in quite a while. “I think you’re supposed to be getting the dehydrated fruit then? I suggest you wait until after.”
“I agree,” Kaylee answered, grinning. Her father had set her and her sister’s timelines for that evening very rigidly. Emma would supposedly be taking inventory in the kitchen.
“And you’ll tell your sister?” Bill asked, and it was only now that he broke eye contact and started shifting nervously again. He didn’t want to tell Emma himself. Kaylee felt a ripple of irritation but she grit her teeth. She nodded her head to Bill’s already retreating back.
~
“I told you no, Bill,” Nick shouted. “What does it take for you?”
Emma rolled her eyes and Kaylee shook her head. Both girls were perched together on Emma’s bed. “It’s not his fault, Dad,” Kaylee interrupted. Nick grit his teeth and kept his glare on Bill. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Soon we’ll all be on the road and you won’t be able to just send us to our room when you want to hide us from something. We’re old enough for all this now. You’ll just have to deal with it.”
Emma nodded her agreement but it didn’t shake the tension from Nick. His back and neck muscles were taut in his irritation and he flinched when Anna put a reassuring hand on his arm. Jack was grinning proudly in the corner and Kaylee rolled her eyes at him. Even Andrew was sporting a bemused expression.
“So,” Quinton spoke into the loaded silence, moving like a shadow from the doorway and into the center of the room, his hands rubbing together, “let’s talk transportation.”
And with that one comment a long meeting began.
Every vehicle in creation seemed to be discussed, several Kaylee had never even heard about. The tanker was an absolute for keeping but very little else seemed definite. Andrew wanted to modify the fire trucks but Quinton shot that down.
“Too open,” he pointed out, pacing the length of the room. “Next!”
Nick suggested a dump truck. “The sides are thick, infected won’t be able to get in.”
“Absolutely not, Nick!” Anna argued, her nose wrinkled. “For one, I’m not cleaning any one of those out. Disgusting. And also, there’s no roof to those. It will rain, at some point, you know.”
Semis, tractor trailers, minivans, SUVs, school buses, maintenance vans, police cruisers, and ambulances were all brought up, the merits and the problems all argued about in loud tones. Kaylee felt a little overwhelmed. There was a problem with every vehicle. Nothing could be diesel, only regular gasoline, because although the tanker could carry both, Quinton felt they should save all diesel fuel for the truck. According to Anna, that eliminated most ambulances in the area. Minivans and SUVs were too small for their group, school buses too flimsy and poorly made. Jack didn’t want to give up his Hummer but Quinton thought a Semi would be better for clearing traffic.
“Can’t waste gas when we’ve only got a bit,” he pointed out. Jack grumbled an unintelligible response.
Silence came as arguments lapsed. Anna’s brow was furrowed and Quinton still paced the room. Jack had a small, squishy ball that he was bouncing against the wall and Andrew watched it fly back into his hand with a grimace of irritation. Kaylee stretched out her legs and leant back into the cold, brick walls, knocking into her sister’s shoulder as she did.
“Maybe we’re over thinking this,” she said. It had come to her suddenly, an obvious answer. “We’re going cross country, the whole lot of us, and we need something safe to travel in. Something we can live in. Something big enough.”
“We know that already,” Emma said, banging her head back against the brick in her exasperation.
“Right, so if you had to take a long trip, I mean before the infection, what would you get?” Kaylee prompted.
“A plane ticket,” Emma answered, her eyes closed. Jack laughed.
“Be serious!”
“Okay, fine,” Emma answered, sighing. “I don’t know, how about a—”
“A motor home!” Andrew cut across, grinning broadly. Emma blinked and then smiled.
“Motor home?” Quinton questioned, he stopped pacing. Jack missed the ball he was throwing.
“Well, why not?” Kaylee pressed, sitting straight up now. “The structure’s good, better than a school bus. Some are d
iesel but other’s run on regular gasoline. It would take some reinforcing, sure, but what wouldn’t?”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Bill said. “There’d be places to sleep, even a bathroom.”
“And they’re built so you can use electricity,” Anna said, longing in her tone.
“Plenty of storage,” Nick grumbled.
“Okay,” Quinton said and he was smiling. “I think we have our transportation. A motor home. Any idea on how to get one?”
“There’s a lot just outside of town,” Andrew said. “Big Bob’s R.V. Dealership. I used to see the billboard all the time.”
“Great! I’m up for the trip if you are,” Jack said, nodding towards Andrew. Andrew’s lips twisted in annoyance but he gave a short, curt nod. Jack smiled.
“Good,” Quinton said, nodding in approval. “The boys will commandeer a motor home tomorrow night. Bill, Nick, we need reinforcing material. Chicken wire, barbed wire, chain-link fence, anything we can solder over the windows. And sheet metal, wherever we can find it. Tomorrow we collect.”
“And us?” Emma asked.
Quinton’s eye’s twinkled. “Pack.”
Chapter Thirteen
The shelves were bare, most rooms packed. The food all lay in organized piles in the living room, ready to be lowered to the garage where a large motor home, Jack’s Hummer, and four motorcycles waited. Quinton had hit every gas station in the city and drained them, though, according to him, there wasn’t much left to drain. The diesel fuel container was now full; the regular unleaded only about half. Nick and Bill had posted the signs and supplies that Anna had organized for them about every two miles along the perimeter of the city. If anyone happened upon their city after they left they’d find a supply of gasoline, antibiotics, painkillers, water bottles, and a can of baby formula. Quinton and Jack had wrinkled their noses when Anna included that last item, but she had insisted.
“No one here wants to drink that, not if we don’t have to,” she had pointed out. “But the nutrition value is good. We’re not leaving food we could eat when we don’t even know anyone’s behind us. The formula will keep them alive. That’s generous enough.”
Jack and Quinton had conceded after that.
The hiss of the blowtorch and the pounding of hammers on steel rang from the garage, echoing off the bare walls until it drowned out the movement of the infected. They had been working day and night, but the longer they worked, the more the day stretched until Kaylee felt her eyes drifting shut earlier and earlier. Three in the morning, two, and last night midnight; she had been up so early, dawn, and working so hard and still managing to fit in some exercising that she just hadn’t been able to keep her eyes open any longer.
“Kaylee? Any more water?” Jack called from the chaos of the garage. The heat drifted up the hole in the living room floor and the smell of melting metal stung her nostrils as she approached. The fire pole was warm to the touch and her hands sweat as she slid down.
“I just re-filled a bunch,” Kaylee said, her heart fluttering as she caught Jack’s eye. His grin was maddening, confident and sure, and her skin tingled where his fingers brushed against hers as he reached for the bottle. He twisted the cap off and took a swig without ever moving his eyes from hers. Andrew coughed loudly from beside him.
“Sorry,” Kaylee stuttered, wheeling to hand Andrew a bottle of water and then walking towards the front of the garage to offer some to her father and Bill. Jack caught up with her, chuckling.
“Effect you much, do I?” he teased, leaning down to whisper directly in her ear. Kaylee rolled her eyes and kept walking, sidestepping a jumbled roll of chain-link fence.
“So much so that you’re now speechless?” Jack persisted, amusement coloring his tone.
“You know, you’re very distracting,” Kaylee said, swiping at her forehead. Cool droplets of water clung to her skin from accidental contact with the water bottles.
“I know. That’s what I’m saying,” Jack insisted, coming to stand in front of her, his arms crossed.
“And not in a good way either,” Kaylee continued, hiding a smile as she juggled the remaining water bottles into one hand so she could wave down her father whom she just spotted in the far corner. She yelped as she felt a tug on her belt, Jack yanking her forward until her chest pressed against his. His lips lowered. And suddenly they were kissing, firm persistent kisses, his fingers still tucked behind the leather of her belt, she up on her toes to better reach. The heat of the garage became stifling and the bottles of water shifted in her now loose grasp.
“Not good?” he asked, his voice low and urgent.
“Maybe a little good,” she murmured and felt his answering grin against her lips. The bottles slipped further.
A throat cleared and Kaylee pulled away, blinking. Her father was standing far too close, his eyes averted to the floor. She jumped back, away from Jack, and fumbled her already tenuous hold on the bottles, sending them crashing to the floor.
“Sorry. Thirsty,” Nick said gruffly, stooping to grab a bottle. He paused, his movement jerky and stilted, before he gave a curt nod and went back to his work.
Kaylee let out a breath as she watched his retreating back. Warm arms came around her and pulled her back against a solid chest.
“You have to give them time to get used to this,” she said, leaning back against Jack.
“Them or you?” he asked, his mouth dangerously close to her neck.
“Both,” she whispered before twisting out of his arms and bending to retrieve the fallen containers. She imagined him smirking behind her, enjoying the fact that he could get her so flustered. Kaylee pursed her lips, irritated at herself for being so susceptible to him that she would hurt Andrew further and make her father uncomfortable. Really, she needed to get a grip.
“C’mon,” he said softly, lacing his fingers with her and surprising her with his tenderness. “Bill’s over here.”
Jack led her to the motor home. Bill was scribbling in a notebook over Andrew’s feet, which were now sticking out from under the motor home. Quinton was perched silently in the corner.
“So, how’s it coming?” Kaylee asked Jack quietly, not wanting to interrupt as she tossed Bill a water bottle. He accepted it with a grunt of thanks.
“Not too bad, actually,” Jack replied, just as softly. “Almost done.”
Kaylee doubted that. It didn’t look almost done. The sides had all been peeled off and were leaning in piles against the wall closest to them. At the far end, through the gaps in the furniture and steel frame, Kaylee saw Andrew stand up. A measuring tape was in his hand and Kaylee watched as he snapped out the thin, yellow metal and then turned to mutter measurements to his father.
“Your Andrew is pretty clever, actually,” Jack whispered, his arm brushing hers.
“My Andrew,” Kaylee scoffed, pushing Jack lightly. He caught her fingers against his chest and held them there. “And shouldn’t you be working now?”
“Andrew then,” he corrected, squeezing her fingers and ignoring her jibe. “He’s designed most of this, even suggested a few improvements to my Hummer.”
Kaylee nodded, internally relieved to know Jack’s vehicle would be made safer. She wondered, momentarily, if Andrew was trying to be helpful, or just showing up Jack. Jack didn’t seem phased either way. He just seemed glad to have won the fight to keep his car.
She watched Andrew slip a soldering mask over his face and turned her back to him. The loud hiss of a blowtorch flared to life.
“He’s still not speaking to you?” Jack asked, his voice softer than before.
“I guess not,” she answered, refusing to turn back to watch Andrew. Her eyes found interest in the buttons of Jack’s shirt instead. “We’ve never not spoken. I don’t even remember a time when…” she trailed off because it didn’t seem necessary to elaborate.
Incredible sadness welled up in her. Not because she had doubts about Jack. She didn’t. The way he made her feel was almost indescribable. Safe but c
hallenged, loved but tested. She wanted to be a better person around him and at the same time knew he’d take her just the way she was, flaws and all.
“Kaylee?” Jack asked, uncharacteristically hesitant in his tone. “Are you… I mean, if you’d rather not—”
She pushed against his chest, using the fingers he was still clutching until he hit the wall behind them and the shredded motor home sides hid them from view. She leaned over and pressed her lips to his, hesitantly at first and then with greater pressure. It was all still so new – this freedom, the exhilaration. Jack did this to her. Even when things had been close to this with Andrew she had never felt anything like it. Only trepidation. Jack set her free.
“So, I should take that as a ‘shut up, Jack,’ right?” he asked, smirking against her lips as he pulled back. She was flushed and hot and Kaylee was sure she was blushing. She cleared her throat.
“If you don’t mind,” she quipped back, her sarcasm loosing some of its bite when her voice cracked.
“Not if that’s how to ask me to shut up every time,” he replied, grinning broadly and gripping her waist. She rolled her eyes and twisted out of his hold.
“So, what’s so brilliant about all that?” Kaylee asked, nodding back at the camper before clearing her throat and shoving her insecurity, her anxiety over Andrew, and that intense heat Jack seemed to draw out of her into that locked little cabinet in her mind. The motor home looked a mess. The walls that were torn off were buckled at the edges, wires hung freely from the fragments of furniture and machine left in the shell of the vehicle, and the blowtorch had left ugly, blackened stains on the sides.
“We’re armoring the whole thing,” Jack answered gleefully. “Chain-link fence.” Kaylee looked closer. The steel frame did look off in some places, different. And upon inspection she could see why. Andrew and Bill were in the process of soldering links to attach metal poles to all the vertical steel bars. When the sides were slipped back into place over them, the poles would jut out past the fiberglass walls, like handlebars in an old ladies bathtub.
