The Break Free Series Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Fitch, E. M.

  The rest of the group was silent, listening to either Kaylee or Emma, she couldn't be sure. When she finished speaking, it was Bill who broke that silence.

  "We should get some sleep." There was no food. And no one mentioned it, though Kaylee knew they all must be as hungry as she was.

  "I'll need help with Jack first," Anna said, gesturing for him to sit by the water. With Bill and Andrew holding his shoulders back, Anna undid his bandages and pulled the cloth she had stuffed into his wound gently out. A small whimper escaped past Jack's lips as she did this. "It's dark now Jack, you can scream if you want. I know this hurts like hell."

  He didn't though, his jaw was grit tight, the muscles in his cheek twitching with the effort. Once all the cloth was free, Anna cleaned the area with cold stream water, and gave the bandages to Kaylee to rinse.

  The wads of cloth released swirls of blood into the water as Kaylee soaked them. She waited until the water she could squeeze from them came clear before handing them back to Anna.

  Jack did yell when Anna packed the cloth back into his open wound. His eyes were clenched but even in the dimming light, Kaylee could see the tears.

  "Almost done, Jack," Anna said. "It'll hurt less tomorrow."

  He let out a strangled, cracked laugh at that, his breathing coming fast and sharp. "Whatever you say, doc."

  By the time Anna had tied the last bandage around his chest, Jack looked ready to collapse. "Now you can rest." Jack lay back as he was told, just feet from the stream. His eyes slid closed quickly and his breathing relaxed. Kaylee thought that whether Anna had told him to or not, he wasn't that far from passing out anyway.

  "That was horrible," Emma spoke into the quiet that settled with Jack's breathing.

  Anna nodded, turning from the rest to wash her hands in the cold running water.

  "Agreed," said Andrew. "Is he going to be okay?"

  "I hope so," Anna answered, her hand pressing against her own head again. "The risk for infection is high. He needs antibiotics. Packing it and changing it often will help pull some of the debris out, but..."

  "He could die?" Saying the words sparked more fear in Kaylee than she thought possible. She had felt numb for the entirety of the day, her feelings drained from her and floating downstream with the body of her father. But something in her gut peaked as dread and fear surged through her. She felt small, insignificant, helpless.

  Jack might die.

  It was stupid really, the amount of fear these words produced. Because if today had proven anything, it was that they all could die, every one of them, at any moment. And yet the thought of losing another person, another man she loved so much, filled her with horror.

  The rest of the group was watching her. She blinked, coming back to herself.

  "What can we do?" Kaylee asked, looking to Anna.

  "We're doing it," she answered gently. "Tomorrow we'll find a house, a town, something, and then we can do more. For tonight, we need to know if he breaks into a fever, try to use the stream to not let it get too high if he does."

  Kaylee nodded. She caught Emma's eye as she settled herself next to Jack. Her sister looked exhausted, just like the rest of the group, and sad too, still propped up behind Andrew. Kaylee had planned to spend the night with her, wrapped around her little sister and grieving together, mourning their father in a way that they never got to mourn their mother. But Jack needed her too, needed her arm on his chest, monitoring throughout the cold night for heat that was not natural.

  Emma understood, Kaylee saw that with the small smile that flashed her way. And Emma wouldn't be alone. Even as the thought crossed her mind, Kaylee saw Andrew move back to lay next to her sister. Not touching, but close. Emma didn't move away.

  Jack didn't stir when Kaylee lay against him. She was careful to lay on the side that was not injured, gentle when she rest her hand on his chest, her skin touching his through a tear in his shirt. She watched as his chest rose and fell steadily, gentle reassurance that he was still with her.

  ~

  Kaylee woke up shivering, the graze wound from the bullet sent sharp pains down her arm as the rest of her trembled with the cold. She reached for Jack, as she had been throughout the whole night, letting the pads of her cold fingers dally over his chest, his neck, feeling for a spike in warmth. Her hands fell on silky pine needles instead and she sat up suddenly.

  It was the darkest part of the night, the silhouettes of the trees black against the dark sky. Moonlight filtered through the branches, casting the low shrubbery and fallen trees into gray shadows. The bodies that lay sleeping glowed orange in places, lit by a low fire that was still smoldering. Bill must have scraped it together after the rest had fallen asleep. He and Anna were huddled nearest the fire. Anna's pale, sleeping face almost yellow in the light. Kaylee could see their outlines, see the rise and fall of their bodies as they breathed. The bandage on her head was darkened with dried blood. Emma and Andrew lay on the other side of the fire. Though Emma was turned away from him, laying on her side, Andrew was closer now, curled up around her younger sister, keeping them both warm. Kaylee's eyes scanned the group, but she didn't see Jack.

  She stood, pausing for a moment to scrape up some branches to throw on the fire. When the wood caught and the flame grew, she stepped out of the circle of light. She listened silently to the forest around her, tuning out the pops of the wood in the fire. Small animals skittered in the undergrowth, claws scraping against the dirt and long dead leaves. Somewhere above an owl hooted softly. Her footsteps were loud, misplaced in the natural rhythm of the woods.

  She saw him before she heard him. A black statue, standing sentinel at the edge of the forest. He stood out from the birch trees that were thin but plentiful, silver white against the night sky. Kaylee's fingers trailed over their papery bark as she shifted towards Jack, her eyes scanning his taunt body. He stood silent in a small opening in the trees, the long, matted grass shone gray in the moonlight. His eyes were on the heavens, trained on the patch of clear sky that sparkled through the gap in the tree tops. He must have heard her coming, she wasn't quiet, but he didn't turn. She came up close behind him, not yet touching, but she didn't want to speak loudly, didn't want to shatter the reverence of this moment, the sanctity of Jack saying his goodbyes through the stars.

  "Sorry if I woke you," he eventually whispered, turning and offering a small smile. "I wanted to get back before you knew I left. It was nice. Waking up with you there."

  Kaylee smiled gently. Something in her tugged, some habit or memory of old. She should be saying goodbye too. But then the hole in her chest gaped open and swallowed the flash of sorrow, leaving her empty once again.

  "You shouldn't get up and wander off just now," she said, keeping her voice low. "I was supposed to be checking you."

  Jack looked back to the sky, his face a mask in shadow. "Fever?"

  "Yes," she answered. Her hand drift up his back, settling on the base of his neck before drifting to the hollow of his throat. He was warm, maybe warmer than she was, but nothing terrible as of yet. She lingered but eventually let her hand drop. "How are you feeling?"

  He went to shrug and couldn't hide the wince that came as a result. "Could be better, I guess. You?"

  Kaylee tore her eyes from him, looking instead up to the stars. They had watched them once before, laid together on a gritty pavement road and made up silly stories. It hadn't been that long ago and yet it felt like years. Life had been carefree then compared to now. Now, orphaned and stranded in the woods with no food and no conceivable direction to go, with every one of their group injured or dead.

  "Numb," she answered softly. He turned, his eyes searching hers.

  "I'm so sorry, Kay," he said quietly. She swallowed hard, looking back at him.

  "I'm sorry, too," she whispered after a moment. She meant for all of it, for their losses, for what she did to Cynthia, for how she treated him after her mother's death. But the heat from his body radiated off him, and it distracted her. She
inched closer to his heady proximity. He was right there, just a few inches from her, and she had an urge so strong that it surged within her. She wanted to grab him, press herself to him.

  "I had an older brother, you know," he said suddenly. His eyes darted up, back to the stars. She started and stepped back. "Mark. He would have liked you."

  "You think?" she asked. Jack nodded.

  "Oh, definitely," he said, smirking a bit now. "Had a thing for blondes."

  Kaylee laughed. It was small and quiet, but it surprised her as it broke free from her lips.

  "He was with my parents when New York got overrun. They were supposed to be packing up to meet me."

  "You were at school," Kaylee said, remembering what he had told her when they first met. Jack nodded.

  "Yeah, in Georgia. I went first because the school year was starting and I had to be there for orientation. The rumors of all these weird illnesses, people biting, not knowing if it was going to go airborne, it really freaked my parents out. They shipped me to school down there, hoping to get me away from it. Of course they didn't know it would sweep the country so fast."

  "No one did," Kaylee murmured.

  "True," he agreed in a hushed whisper. "They were supposed to join me. Mom took a leave from work and Dad was going to telecommute, it was all set up. I was on the phone with Mark when it happened."

  "Did you..."

  "I heard it all," he said.

  Crickets and owls and creatures scratching for food echoed all around them, filling the horror of the silence between them.

  "In a way," he continued softly, "I think it was better that way. I never had to go looking for them. I knew. That's more than a lot of people get, I think."

  Kaylee nodded, understanding. Knowing was a relief. That was part of the reason it was so horrible when they thought Emma had run off, the not knowing.

  "What were their names?" she asked, looking up at him. He smiled.

  "My parents? John and Diane."

  "I'm sure they loved you very much."

  "They claimed to," Jack said with a smile. "It's because of them that I'll miss Quinton so much. He was like all three of them rolled into one. Well, maybe not Mom, although he really tried with the cooking. But he was patient and taught me things. I was a terrible shot before he came along, skinny as anything because I was barely feeding myself. He watched out for me, like Mark used to."

  He fell silent then, his gaze back through the opening in the tree tops. The stars were clear tonight, bright sprays of them painted the sky. Kaylee moved next to him, standing shoulder to shoulder. She slipped her fingers over the sleeve of the hoodie he wore, found his fingers, warm in the cool night air, and tangled hers with his. He gripped back and her chest clenched.

  She wanted oblivion, wanted out of the fog her mind was forcing her into. She brought herself under his arm, encouraged when he didn't stop her, and let her fingers rest over his heart. He stiffened as she let her hand drift, careful of the wound in his side, and then pressed her lips to his chest.

  He tugged her closer and she fell into him gently. Her shoulder throbbed and his stomach had to ache as well. She let her one good hand drift lower, settling on his waist, her other hung limp at her side. She felt something jolt through her when his arms came around her.

  "I'm sorry about your dad," he whispered. She grimaced, drawing breath and he drew her closer still, his temple resting on her forehead.

  "I'm going to miss him, too. So much."

  He hummed into her hair, agreeing. She would miss him, just like he missed his family, just like the rest of the bare existence of humanity would miss their loved ones. Grief lay over her like a cloak and she pressed her forehead to his shoulder as an empty cavern throbbed in her chest. Throughout the whole of that day, since she let her father float downstream, everything had been muted. Small spikes of feeling broke through, a laugh when Jack joked about his brother, a collapse of her chest when Jack's shoulder knocked into hers, but they were fleeting and short lived. They flashed and sparked and then died, leaving her settled in a fog of nothingness.

  She hadn't even cried yet. It just struck her. Not even one single tear for her father. She had saved that, waited until they stopped and she could curl up with Emma and let loose. But she never got to do that. In the stillness of the night, pressed against Jack, it was too easy to forget the day, forget what happened to her father, forget that she would never see him again. Her head seemed determined to pretend he still existed, pretend that she and Jack were stealing a moment alone in the trees and that his voice could cut through at any moment and break them apart.

  "It smells like rain," Jack said eventually. His lips were close to her cheek, she could just barely feel them move, the words hot on her cold skin. She hummed in agreement. The air had that heavy, saturated feeling, the breeze that blew lightly through the trees was restless, turning whatever leaves were left upside down.

  "I used to love the rain," he murmured, dropping his forehead to rest on her shoulder. His hands kept firm on her waist, either holding her up or supporting himself, it was difficult to tell the difference at this point. "It was the best way to go to sleep, warm in my bed, the raining beating on the roof and windows. I used to watch the water droplets slide down the glass pane. It was mesmerizing."

  Kaylee brought her fingers to the back of his head, her pale fingertips marking trails through his black hair as she whispered her agreement. Touching him grounded her, sparked feeling in the emptiness. She remembered her own nights in the warm comfort of her bed, her father snoring down the hall, snuggled next to her mother, Emma in her own room. There was undeniable comfort in sleeping through a rain storm.

  "It's not as comforting now though," Jack spoke, his hands snaking around her waist to the small of her back.

  "No?" she whispered into the still night. Jack shook his head against her neck. He moved, she could feel his stubble along her chin, his fingertips pressing her closer. Feeling surged into life, a heat searing in her chest into a want she hadn't felt this intensely before. Her skin tingled. "Why not?"

  "Why did you come after me?" he asked, his cheek pressing against her as his words whispered past her ear. Kaylee stiffened and then relaxed when she felt his lips, warm and sure, press a kiss to her jaw.

  "You were gone," Kaylee murmured, her skin sliding against his as her lips sought out his jumping pulse point. He inhaled sharply as she kissed his throat.

  "Was it just to check for fever?" he asked, his voice deeper than before as his nose skimmed her jawline.

  "No," she whispered. His lips finally found hers and she tasted pine as he pressed them to her. He kissed her hard and she kissed him. It was a consuming kiss, a kiss meant to erase. And she wanted that just as much as he seemed to need it. Her grip on him shifted, her fingers found his neck, the side of his face, and they gripped and pulled, drawing him closer and tighter to her. His hand found the arm that hung limp at her side, traced the outline of her fingers before intertwining them with his own.

  It might have been his scent, the pine and rain and honey that just exuded off him, made flavorful by his kiss, the taste of him. It might have been her brain trying to shut down and not acknowledge why she should be grieving. Or it might have been the desperate need that she couldn't seem to contain. Kaylee didn't know, but she didn't want to stop. She wanted to be melded to him like this forever.

  His one hand wandered, gripping her tightly and yet gently at the same time. She jumped when the pads of his fingers slipped under her shirt, pressing into her back, branding her with heat despite the chill in the air and the stiffness of her clothing. But they moved again. His fingers, firm and sure, slid down to her hips, dallied at the waistband of her jeans before sliding up her back, the palm of his hand warm against her skin. He traced the contour of her shoulders, down her good arm and back again, like he was trying to memorize and meld at the same time. It was possessive.

  And at the same time, his other hand pressed lightly, palm to
palm, against her injured one. His fingers brushed the pads of her fingertips gently, light caresses to contrast his fierce gripping.

  His mouth hadn't left hers, hard and demanding and firm. But she didn't want it to regardless, she returned his kiss as fiercely as he bestowed it, lost in it.

  He broke off slowly, easing back, his lips lingering first at the corner of her mouth and then her neck before he broke off completely and took an unsteady step back. Kaylee's eyes blinked open, she hadn't even remembered shutting them. Her mouth hung slightly open, still in the act of kissing, her lips moist and she could still taste him. She was cold. Colder now than she was before. Her shoulder ached. Jack spoke quietly into the soft night air.

  "I'm sorry, it's been a bad day. And we haven't... not since the city."

  Kaylee felt her mouth work to form words. She felt slightly dazed. It took a moment. Her breathing evened out and Jack's did as well, she could tell by the set of his shoulders as he drew breath. "You don't have to be sorry," she said softly, moving towards him. She frowned when he tensed.

  "I don't want to take advantage."

  "That's not what you're doing."

  He shook his head, not meeting her eye.

  "Jack, please," she whispered in the dark. The chasm in her chest was opening again, a rift forming over her ribs, and she was drowning in it. She saw him work to swallow, let her hand drift up his arm. She stepped closer to him. It took barely any encouragement at all before he was kissing her again. It was different this time, not the rush and madness of before, but the slow, fiery kisses she remembered from the rooftop of the firehouse. They rediscovered each other through their lips, nibbling and tasting and pulling deeper into the fog they could create. It took no effort at all to shut out the rest of the world and melt into the fantasy, the safety and warmth of this attention. It consumed her. And it was very quickly not enough.