by Fitch, E. M.
The grass was cool but soft as she lay back on it, Jack's solid weight following and pinning her down. Her kisses turned heated. His fingers traced her outlines, lingering on her waist. Her own fingers drift up his back before settling on the side of his face, the rough stubble moving under the pads of her fingers as his jaw worked in the kiss. Something about the feel of him kissing her, not just through his lips but as his jaw worked underneath her fingertips, was absolutely thrilling. The sensation wiped away the uncomfortable feeling of her stiff clothes, the grief, and the fear of what the morning would bring. When he shifted against her and their shirts hitched up, a sliver of his bare stomach pressed against hers and she gasped into his mouth just as he hissed in pain.
"Sorry!" she bit out, "Oh, Jack, I'm sorry."
"I'm fine," he grunted, rolling to the grass and taking deep breaths. She looked closer, pressing her fingers lightly to the cloth wrapped around his abdomen.
"You're bleeding again."
"Probably better anyway," he whispered, his breath coming in short pants. "Get more of the junk out."
"Let's get you back to the others," Kaylee whispered, standing and helping to pull Jack up. He kept a grip on her arm as they walked back.
"We're a mess, you and I," he said in a huff when she settled him back down. She hummed in response.
"We're all a mess tonight," she said.
"But you're my mess," he whispered. She lay next to him again, her fingers resting in the hollow of his neck. She turned to press a kiss to his shoulder.
"And you're mine."
~
The day following the collapse of The Mill began in silence. Upon waking, the losses from the day before felt even more pronounced. There was no soft murmuring of Spanish, no home cooked breakfast sizzling away. The ghosts of Nick and Quinton fell over them like shadows. The worst part of all of this was that there was no time to grieve. The small moments they stole on the beach, the tears and the private prayers, were gone in the more urgent need for food and shelter. The only reminders were the brief glances of sorrow and pity squashed horribly together whenever one of them caught another's gaze.
Kaylee's clothes were dry and stiff, the smoke from the fire that had been smoldering all night to stave off the cold had permeated the fabric, leaving the acrid scent of burning wood and leaves. The rush and thrill she had felt last night, tangled with Jack in the long grass, had dulled again, her chest once more cracking open and absorbing all sense of feeling. Emotionally, she was numb. Physically, she ached all over. When she stood her head swam. Every bruise throbbed and her neck and face itched from where Cynthia's nails had dragged, opening the skin. But the worst pain was her shoulder. The muscle burned and every movement sent the burn zinging down her arm, leaving her very fingertips buzzing with pain.
And her injuries weren't the only ones. The limp in Bill's gate was more pronounced, Anna's head had stopped bleeding but Kaylee could see her shaking her head every now and then like she was trying to clear her thoughts. Kaylee held Jack's hand, let him squeeze until her knuckles cracked with the pressure as Anna changed his bandages and packing again.
"We need food and shelter," Anna said afterwards, moving towards the cold, moving water to rinse her hands.
"Let's head west," Bill offered. No one argued. No one had any better ideas.
It took half a day before they stumbled onto asphalt. They followed the broken and crumbling road into a small town, stopping at the first intact house they came upon. It was a small, two story brick building. The glass of the windows had been knocked out and the porch was sagging, but the walls were intact, which was more than they had now if a pack of infected came upon them.
They collapsed as a group onto the dust packed carpet in the living room. Anna was breathing heavily and Jack pushed himself into a seated position against the wall. The bandages leaked blood through his shirt.
It was Emma who staggered to a stand, moving towards the kitchen and banging the cabinets open. When she returned with an armful of cans and a can opener, it felt like Christmas.
Chapter Thirteen
It rained for three days. They holed up in the attic of that first building they had stumbled into. They started healing. Slowly. Jack's side was bandaged tightly but his wound didn't need to be packed anymore. They had found a bottle of expired antibiotics and Anna had him taking them regularly. Kaylee's shoulder still hummed in pain but the rest of her injuries subsided. They were all bruised and sore and tired. Kaylee hadn't much left the attic, letting the tattoo of the pounding rain on the rooftop drown out the need to converse, to interact.
It was dusty there and smelled of mildew, empty except for some saggy cardboard boxes and the cushions, pillows, and blankets they had dragged up there and collapsed into. There were no windows in the cramped space and it made it that much easier to sleep through the daylight.
Andrew took an old fire pit from one of the neighboring homes, dragged a few lawn chairs to the porch, and they spent the nighttimes sitting there, staring at the flames and eating through whatever food was scrounged up in neighboring cupboards. No one talked much. No one had the energy. It wasn't even worth discussing where to go next, they wouldn't be mobile for at least a couple more days. Bill was still limping and Jack had only just stopped bleeding whenever he moved.
Kaylee felt numb. Nick lingered like a ghost, drifting through her whenever she open her mouth to speak and forcing whatever thoughts had been in her brain right out again. She had bizarre moments of emptiness that were flipped and erased whenever she found herself alone with Jack. Because her feelings crashed together then, solidifying in a desire that was stronger than she had ever felt before.
She lost herself with him. Like someone who only ever felt when pressed against him. They hadn't been alone except for a few times, twice in the attic. Anna had walked in once, her eyebrows quirking as she tactfully backed down the stairs.
"Where are you going?" Kaylee asked, her whisper carrying across the still attic. The room was dark save for the match that flared as Emma had lit the candle. The scent of the wax, honeysuckle, wafted around the cramped space, saturating the musky air. Jack's arm rest across her middle, sparking warmth through out. Her sister knelt by the trap door, knotting the laces of her boots. Emma had been uncharacteristically quiet. She had holed up in the attic, taking the furthest corner, and hadn't spoke much to anyone since they got there.
"Just out a bit," she mumbled, not looking up. She pushed at the hatch door, cracking it open. She had been doing that, running out and returning with not much of anything. Kaylee thought she might just need time to herself, after their Dad, after everything, she needed time to grieve without everyone staring. She understood. So she had let it go.
It bothered her though. Andrew too. His eyes followed her, watching from the dark of his corner as she went to slide the ladder out.
"Sun's not set yet," Bill murmured, peering out into the sunset lit hall below. The walls glowed pale orange, the mauve of the dusty carpet gaudy in contrast.
"Close though," Emma murmured, her head lowered to the stairs, listening. "There's nothing down there."
"Wait it out, Em," Andrew called over to her. She grit her teeth but rocked back on her heels regardless.
Jack stirred from behind Kaylee, his arm tightening. "Is it almost time to be up?" he whispered. She nodded, resisting the urge to turn in his arms and face him. His lips would be warm and soft. She knew that from yesterday, when she had turned to wake him after the rest had gone downstairs and he surprised her with a kiss. Soft and warm it had heated quickly and they had lay, wrapped together, for longer than Kaylee had planned. It had earned her a concerned stare from Anna when they finally surfaced.
Anna rose from her cocoon of blankets, her fingers prodding at her forehead. The bandage on her head was stiff with dry blood and her fingers worked at it to loosen it from her skin. Bill passed over her cup of water and Anna took it with a smile, moistening the gauze and peeling it slowly from
her forehead. The gash had scabbed over.
Kaylee stiffened as Jack's lips settled low on the back of her neck. His breath was warm but she shivered regardless. She didn't say anything, mostly because she didn't want the others to notice, so Jack continued, kissing lightly along the base of her neck as the others got up and pulled on their shoes and coats.
"You have to stop that," she murmured when the last head disappeared down the stairs.
"Don't want to," he mumbled into her skin. "And you don't want me to either."
"No, but that's not the point," Kaylee said, ignoring the shiver down her spine. "You're going to start bleeding again."
He had, just yesterday. Kaylee doubted she would have noticed had his bare skin not been pressed to hers. She almost missed it even then. But the warmth and slickness of the blood as it smeared on her stomach caught her attention.
"We won't know until we test it out," he murmured, pressing his mouth to hers. She kissed him back, reason leaving her quickly as she shifted underneath him, letting him press her to the cushions they slept on. His lips slid from hers, exploring her neck and dallying over her collarbone.
"We tested this yesterday," she stuttered, uncontrollable noises of encouragement escaping as Jack's fingers trailed up her thigh, "and it did not go well."
"It went very well," Jack argued. She groaned in agreement. It was good. Comforting and exhilarating and not numb. It was the only time she felt human in the past few days, the moments she stole with Jack.
She gave up on speaking and used her fingers to bring his face back to hers. She kissed him deeply, pressing her full self to him. Her heart beat, hard and reassuring against his chest. She breathed in snatches against his lips, pulling him closer. His fingers traced her outline before settling over her heart, pressing to the skin there as though he was confirming how alive she felt.
Which is exactly how she felt, alive. She was alive. Her heart beat and her mind raced and her breaths came hard and fast.
She wasn't empty, drained of all emotion and left as a husk of a girl.
Because that wasn't all that was left of her. There was passion too, desire, need. She knew it when Jack touched her and she reveled in it. It didn't matter that they were in an old, abandoned attic, that her sister and friends could hear them, that everyone knew when they emerged a full hour later what they had been doing. At this point, the only thing keeping them from fully being together, the way Kaylee wanted them to be, was the wound in Jack's side that wouldn't stop bleeding.
"You hear that," Jack mumbled a while later. Her leg was hooked over his and all she could hear was the heady beating of her heart, hard and fast. She brought her lips to his neck, nibbling as he turned his face towards the stairs. "Someone's arguing."
A very large part of her wanted to say "let them," grab Jack and make him forget he heard anything. But a small part of her brain argued that her sister was down there, hurting too, that she loved the others. Her stomach settled hollow and yet feeling heavy and full, and she let her lips fall from his skin as she dropped her head back on the pillow. An unintentional sigh escaped. Jack smiled through grit teeth.
"Probably better anyway, before we-"
"Before we what?" Kaylee asked, watching his response. He hid his eyes, sliding to her side and raising himself up on his elbow.
"It's not a good time," he murmured, letting his fingers drift over her cheek. She turned her head and caught his palm in a kiss, keeping her mouth against his skin and her eyes averted when she next spoke.
"It never will be."
"Not true," he argued through a chuckle. "I'm only human. But the reason we left the city still exists out here. We can't take a chance. If The Mill still existed, then maybe, but not out in the open like this."
"You know, even if we do sleep together, it doesn't necessarily mean we'd get pregnant," she said, sliding closer to him. He laughed.
"You know who says that, don't you?"
"Who?"
"Pregnant girls."
"Oh, ha ha!" she retorted, pushing lightly at his chest. He caught her hand and squeezed, grinning down at her. The voices from below got louder again and Kaylee sighed. But she got up, ignoring the weight that dropped in her stomach as she stood.
The sun was no longer visible, only the purple bruise it left in the sky remaining. The rain was dying out, but the clouds stayed put. The air was still heavy with moisture. The last of the storm dripped from the rails of the porch, saturating the wood boards of the deck. The paint was peeling and faded, no longer the olive green it had once been and instead looking like spots of mold.
Someone had started the fire. It burned brightly in the iron fire pit at the edge of the porch. Anna and Bill sat by it, their eyes towards the lawn.
Kaylee came through the door just as Bill was shaking his head, his mouth opening. He shut it again when he saw her. She looked out to the overgrown lawn. Emma stood faced off with Andrew, their eyes locks and their mouths set in angry determination. From where she stood, Kaylee could just make out their words. Even if she couldn't, their body language wasn't hard to decipher.
“I said we’re not leaving you," Andrew said. He stepped closer toward Emma, menacingly taller than she. She brought her hand up to her mouth, covering her lips as she glared up at him.
"That's not what I want and you know that." Her voice was a low growl and she spoke into her hand, her fingers spread to catch any accidental spray of salvia.
"We're not doing it," Andrew said, his tone low as he pushed her hand away from her mouth. "I'm telling you right now, I won't stand for it."
Kaylee turned to Bill and Anna. "What is she talking about?"
"We're trying to make plans, figure out where to go next," Bill answered, taking up a small branch and poking around in the new embers of the fire. Anna grimaced up at Kaylee.
"She's saying she won't come unless-"
"Don't you get it?" she said, her voice rising in pitch. "It's my fault! He's gone because-"
Andrew cut her off with a shout. "Stop it, Em!" He grabbed her arms and shook her.
"Hey!" Kaylee yelled, moving out of the doorway and crossing the porch. "Andrew! What are you doing?"
"Oh look, they emerge," Emma quipped, throwing a nasty sneer in Kaylee's direction. She wrenched her arms from Andrew's grasp and stalked up to the porch.
"Em-" Kaylee started but she was interrupted.
"What happened, your stamina spent already?" Emma threw at Jack. Kaylee stiffened, staring at her sister. No one else spoke.
"What is your problem?" Kaylee asked, knowing that the cold she felt seeping through her gut leaked into her words.
"Me? Oh I don't have a problem, none at all. Dad isn't dead. I don't have a bite mark on my leg that will get us all killed. If we accidentally swap utensils, I'm sure you'll be fine. Why would I have any problems? Better head back up stairs and get it off with your boyfriend a few more times!"
"Okay Emma, enough," Jack interjected, stepping forward. Kaylee stood ramrod still, staring as her sister pushed past her and next to the fire. Emma was enraged. A spiral of anger curled in Kaylee's chest, laced with guilt. It sparked and died. The vivid feelings that had pounded through her when she was with Jack had already faded, and she was empty again, Emma's words flaring and then disappearing in the void.
"It is enough," Emma muttered. "We have nothing but problems. No idea where we're going or when we'll leave. My leg is a walking target. There's no food. And all you two do is-"
"She's coping," Jack hissed, moving closer to Emma and lowering his voice. Kaylee stood as though frozen, hearing the words but unable to react to them.
"Yeah, she's coping all over you."
"She put an axe through someone, Em, she's dealing with it the best way she knows how," Jack said, his voice low and directed away from Kaylee. She heard the words as though through a veil.
"She's been through a lot, give her time," Andrew added, his voice weary. He was strolling towards them, resting one foot on
the first step of the porch. Emma's jaw set and her eyes narrowed as she glared at him.
"Of course. Of course, you defend her! I lost my dad too," Emma bit back, her chin wobbled but her lips were set in a hard line. "But all you do is fight with me."
"That is not fair!" Andrew shouted.
It broke out from all sides. Anna and Bill lowly arguing about where they should go and when. Andrew shouting at Emma, her threatening to just leave. Bill said he agreed with Emma and Andrew lost it. Kaylee's eyes darted from one to the other, watching Andrew turn on his father, seeing the exasperation in Anna's eyes as she shook her head. They were hungry, they were tired and hurt. They were all falling apart.
Emma moved away from the group, her eyes on the empty yard in front of her. She hunched over the railing, her back to everyone. Something clenched tight in Kaylee's chest.
I did it again. Left her alone to grieve a dead parent. Again.
The void in her chest cracked and a new sensation surged in her belly. Regret. Shame. It wasn't pleasant, but it was different. It was powerful enough to stay, her mind racing to keep up.
"Quiet," she said. When nothing changed she shouted. "Quiet!"
They turned, even Emma, to look at her. "Emma, why are you talking about leaving?"
“I'm-" she broke off in a sigh. "I'm not, that's not what I-"
Andrew growled in frustration. “As if we’d just let you—’
“You can’t guard me all night!” Emma shouted, losing any of the calm she had managed to show. “If I want to run, I can. And there’s nothing—”
