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

by Fitch, E. M.

She laughed, enjoying the feeling of it bubbling up inside of her as much as the story Jack told. "He was a great guy, happy, full of life. He really loved what he did. He didn't have a wife to share his life with, but he was content, just him and God and the people he helped.”

  Emma sobered at this, nodding. "Don't you see though? I want that, too." She gestured around her, the darkness of the woods lit now only by the glow of the flames. "Here I can't hurt anyone. I can be happy. And sure, celibacy isn't something I think I would have chosen for myself, but..." she trailed off in a shrug. Jack snorted.

  "No, I wouldn't have picked it for myself either. Priesthood is a calling, I saw that with my uncle. I have never felt called in that direction. But I guess you-“

  "Don't have much of a choice now," Emma finished for him with a sigh.

  "Have you ever?”

  "Had a choice? I should hope so! I'm not that bad to look at.”

  "Not what I meant," he managed through a grin. "I meant, had you ever... I mean before you were bit…"

  "Oh!" Emma caught his meaning and felt the warmth of a blush heat her neck. "Erm, no. No, I haven’t."

  He hummed a sort of understanding noise and she grit her teeth. "I was only fourteen when this all started!”

  He looked a little surprised at that but grinned over at her. "I realize. Doesn't mean you wouldn't at least have a game of Spin the Bottle under your belt.”

  "Oh, no. Not even that," she sighed a bit and he caught it, making her huff. "Maybe someday someone will test it out for me.”

  He stiffened and she noticed, but he didn't chide her. She cleared her throat, encouraged. "Would it be wrong, you think? To let someone?”

  "Rape you, you mean?" the stark and straightforward way he said it chilled her, but she nodded anyway.

  "Not... not provoke it," she clarified. "But, if it happened, if I couldn't fight them off. I mean, it's a possibility! Isn't it? Out here," she gestured around, felt the panic and wild uncertainty grip her. Jack stayed very still, his eyes watching her.

  "If you couldn't fight them off, how is that letting them?" he asked quietly. She shriveled into her bag.

  "By not telling them, not saying I've been bit, that I'm infected," Emma whispered, having already played this scenario out in her head a million times, trying to convince herself she could put the pieces of herself back together if she had to.

  "Even if you did," Jack said softly. "They probably wouldn't believe you.”

  "Then I'll say it," she said, "and give up struggling.”

  Jack didn't answer and she didn't look over when she heard the rustle of his sleeping bag. The fire sparked and spit, the cracks of bursting sap loud in the clearing. She hated to think about it. Hated that it played through her mind so often anyway. If someone raped her, and turned, then she'd know. She couldn't think of another way to find out, wouldn't test it on anyone but someone who deserved it. And even in that scenario, maybe the hypothetical he wouldn't deserve it.

  She lay on her side, cushioned on a thick layer of mostly dry pine needles and encased in the warmth of her synthetic sleeping bag.

  "Em?" Jack whispered over the crack of the fire. She hummed in acknowledgement. "If someone was trying to hurt you, why not just spit in their face? Save you some hurt, wouldn't it?”

  She was quiet for a long while. She had thought of that, too. In some ways, she was more dangerous a weapon than anyone on earth. But she had dismissed it quickly. "Because," she started, not even sure if Jack was still awake to hear her answer, "if he hadn't done anything yet, he'd be innocent still."

  ~

  They reached the city after another two days of hiking. It was cold enough now to warrant gloves and warm boots. The woods dwindled around them. Suburban homes and shopping malls lay in ruins as they neared the crumbled high rises. They found a sporting goods store and traded in their worn shoes and coats for the warmer wear still hung on racks inside the store. There were newer bags and camping gear, winter sleeping bags, and Emma felt richer than she had in a long time wrapped in the down of her new coat. She kept Andrew's leather jacket. Not because she thought she'd find him, but because she knew she wouldn't.

  There, in the suburbs, Jack began collecting materials for his bombs. Quietly, he lay out his supplies in the garage of an abandoned house they found. The windows had already been boarded up and there was an attic with a pull down staircase in which to hide. As soon as it was fully dark, he and Emma would find a car and drive into the city, scout for any survivors holed up in there before they strategically collapsed all ways out.

  There weren't that many infected around them. Emma guessed that most were wandering the city.

  "Is that dynamite?" Emma asked, tossing Jack a can of peaches. He grabbed it and nodded. "Where did you find that?”

  "Construction company a few streets over," he answered, peeling the tin lid back. He tipped the can towards his mouth and thick juice dribbled to his chin. "I don't have any blasting caps this time, but these will do.”

  "I would think so," Emma murmured, eyeing them before she propped herself in the corner.

  The car Jack found was a convertible. It would be useless in the daytime, too easy for the biters to attack, but it was perfect for what they needed. He had ripped a white sheet off a bed and tied the ends to a broom handle, handing it to Emma. She sat in the back seat, steadying their white flag, as he drove them over a bridge into the city. He blasted the radio, an old punk rock CD they had found in the glove compartment, and she kept the white sheet upright and flapping behind them.

  They drove for an hour but no one called out. The infected didn't stir and other than the crunch they made under the tires, you wouldn't have even known they were there.

  After they had driven the outline of the city, Jack mentally mapping where his bombs would need to go, they stopped their car close to the center. At Jack's instructions, Emma propped the white flag against a flat expanse of building. Jack took a can of spray paint from his bag. In large, black letters, he wrote:

  City will be bombed in 2 days. Any left alive?

  He left the can next to the white flag and turned towards the car.

  "We'll come back tomorrow."

  Chapter Ten

  "Where have you been!”

  The question was shot at them from across the lot. Kaylee felt her brow scrunch in confusion. Andrew stiffened next to her. Patricia was charging across the space, people moving quickly to get out of her way. The crowd shrunk away, backs hunched over individual fire pits and huddled around individual sources of food. Firelight lit the enclosed space of the Circle. Kaylee had time to notice two men spearing chunks of cabbage from a shared can before Patricia stepped in front of her and cut off her view.

  "Where?" she asked again, making it clear that she expected Kaylee to answer.

  Anger rippled through Kaylee. Other than the protection of numbers, this group offered very little assistance. They didn't pool resources, didn't share food. Kaylee had been left alone to scavenge for Anna and Andrew or else they wouldn't eat. She didn't mind it, couldn't blame them. But she found it obnoxious that now they would take offense to her and Andrew leaving.

  Was it the motorcycle? The fact that they had something now of value and based on Kaylee's windswept hair and the sack of food she carried it was obvious to everyone around her?

  She wasn't sure. But she didn't care either way. Patricia had no claim on her time and though it was nice to have a base to work from, Kaylee knew they could survive without it.

  Patricia was waiting for an answer, and so, Kaylee noticed, were the men and women pretending to ignore them.

  "We were out," Kaylee answered, shrugging. The skin around Patricia's eyes tightened.

  "With transportation?" she asked.

  “No."

  The lie came instinctively. Kaylee was sure it was obvious, even as she spoke, that she wasn't telling the truth. She didn't care.

  "We'll find it," Patricia said, her voice low but carrying. "Eve
ry working vehicle is property of the Circle. If you haven't been told that before, you've been told now.”

  Kaylee watched Patricia's back as she turned and strode away. Her shoulders were tight and she walked with the stiff gait of anger. Her cousin, James, was dead; Kaylee understood that. It didn't matter. They weren't a part of this group, not really. They were squatting, just like so many of them seemed to be. Wasn't that what the Walmart men called them, Squatters? And yet, Kaylee mused as Andrew tugged her arm towards Anna and Rebecca, none of them ever left either. Groups would venture out during the day, find what food they could, squirrel away supplies and weapons so no one else in the Circle could find them, but they never broke out on their own. Kaylee had assumed this was because there was safety in numbers, the reassurances of many weapons should a horde overtake them. For the first time, she was wondering if maybe none of them could leave, even if they wanted to.

  "Did no one tell you about the cars?" Rebecca asked in an undertone. Her eyes skirt about the perimeter of the camp, watching for eavesdroppers.

  "No one told us much of anything," Kaylee answered, dropping the sack of food in front of Anna.

  "Any sign?" she asked quietly. Andrew shook his head, no sign of Bill, or Jack and Emma. It was the third time he and Kaylee had gone out looking, and the farthest they had ventured yet, but there was no sign of any of them. The night sky was starting to bleach purple, just a faint impression of the day to come leaking into the darkness. Almost everyone in the camp was awake now, feasting on their finds or staring desperately at their neighbors for charity.

  "No one is allowed cars. Unless you're in the Circle. And those have to be kept in the Circle, in case of attack," Rebecca said, smiling in thanks as Anna passed her a can of baked beans. Kaylee and Andrew had found a pile of cans by a loading dock in one of the stores they passed. He reminded her that it was Jack who told them to always look there. Her chest had clenched as she packed them into the motorcycle storage compartments.

  "So no one is allowed to leave then?" Andrew said, peeling back the lid to his can. He bent the flimsy metal into a scoop, using it to dig out bites of his food.

  "Oh, no," Rebecca said. "You can leave. No one will keep you here.”

  "Rebecca," Kaylee said as gently as possible, "who would leave on foot?”

  The sun was threatening to rise as Anna suggested Kaylee and Andrew get some sleep. They agreed, stretching out in the back of an abandoned pickup truck that was rusting nearby. There was a modest supply of blankets and even two cushions Kaylee had taken from a nearby house to use as pillows. Anna would sit close to them, watching over the two teenagers and their supplies. Kaylee handed her their one gun.

  What they really needed was more weapons. Kaylee had searched, finding one machete and a small collection of axes but no gun and no ammunition. The handgun they had was only good as long as they had bullets. She lay next to Andrew, on his good side so as not to injure him if she shifted in her sleep, and closed her eyes. She felt him toss the extra blanket over her, and even though she thought he should really take it, she didn't argue.

  They would try again tomorrow night, looking for Emma and Jack and Andrew's father. But if they didn't find them soon, and after the last few nights, Kaylee was afraid they may not, they would have to figure out what to do for the winter. The days were getting colder. Kaylee wasn't sure staying in the Circle would work for them all winter long.

  ~

  The sun was still bright when Kaylee awoke. Andrew had nestled up to her side, he had done that before, and neither had shifted away from the shared warmth. It was too cold to not appreciate it. Anna was huddled over the fire, her fingers laced in front of her mouth as she blew warm air unto them. Her curly head popped up when Kaylee rose.

  Andrew grunted and rolled into the warm space left by Kaylee's body. The truck bed creaked as she jumped down but he didn't stir.

  "That's good," Anna said, nodding towards Andrew. "He's pushing too hard. He really needs the rest.”

  Kaylee nodded and sat on an old tire laid by the fire. The black surface was warm underneath her. It stunk of burnt rubber and she knew it would seep into her clothing, but she felt it wouldn't matter. There was very little opportunity to bathe in the Circle. The only water available was kept in rain barrels by the privy set up in the far corner of the lot. There was barely enough for everyone to drink, let alone bathe. She and Andrew had been swapping out clothing every time they left, leaving their stinking used clothes in piles in the middle of empty stores. Today she had on cargo pants, the pockets still filled with lighters and pocketknives. She had kept her belt through the clothing changes. It held a large sporting knife, a holster for the gun, and had pouches for bullets, should they ever find any. She was able to hide it under her bulky winter jacket.

  "How does your coat fit?" Kaylee asked Anna.

  "Perfect, thanks," she answered, smiling. "And Rebecca really appreciates you grabbing one for her.”

  "Did you get anything else out of her?" Kaylee asked, accepting the sealed bag of dry cereal Anna passed her way. She opened the bag and took a handful of Cheerios. They were stale, but so reminiscent of a time before the infection, that Kaylee couldn't help the stirrings of a smile as she swallowed.

  "She's pretty guarded," Anna whispered, casting a quick look around. "I feel bad for her. None of the others have really taken her in. And she can barely feed herself.”

  "Are they all just scared to leave?" Kaylee asked, chewing another handful of cereal. Anna frowned.

  "You know, it's weird. There's an inner circle, I'm sure of it, but it's hard to pinpoint just who those people are. So it's impossible to ask around. You might end up talking to the wrong people. And Patricia likes to say she's in charge. But she seems to take a lot of direction from Michael. Only he's not really here a lot," Anna paused and took a sip of water from her canteen.

  "So what's the point of all this?" Kaylee asked, looking around. On the surface, it was a camp. But it would be a stretch to call it a community. And if these people weren't looking for a community, what was their goal. Just survival? Just this day-to-day hunt for cans and dry foods that weren't spoiled yet?

  Even in the firehouse, in a situation they all knew wasn't permanent, they had vegetable plants growing, apple trees fenced and protected, stores of canned food for emergencies. The Mill had a greenhouse, crops.

  Here, you ate what you could bring in that day, without access to a vehicle for transport, and only stored food if you could find a hiding spot no one else would raid. It was crazy to think that could go on, especially through the winter.

  "That's the thing," Anna whispered. "There has to be a point. Only some people, including us, don't know what it is. No one whispers as much as Patricia and Michael without planning something.”

  Kaylee nodded, rolling the top of the Cheerios bag and handing it to Anna. She tucked it away in the bag at her feet. Kaylee stood, stretching. She felt a pop in her lower back.

  "Back in a minute," she said, nodding toward the privy area. Anna grimaced.

  Behind a shower curtain propped in the open windows of two trucks, there was a hole in the ground and a bottomless bucket perched over it. The world as they knew it had ended and Kaylee accepted that, but even the most primitive toilets had the potential to be better than this. She felt the people of the Circle were just asking for disease to run rampant, the way they so sloppily went about their daily preparations and planning.

  She paused at the rain water barrel after she was through, taking momentary advantage of the seclusion as she used the one shared bit of resource. She brought a handful of cold water to her face and splashed it down her neck. It was frigid, but reviving. It wasn't until after she took a few steps that she became aware of voices.

  She stepped back and then edged toward the truck bed behind the toilet. The smell was almost overpowering, her stomach curled, but she knew that no one else would be hiding there.

  The voices stopped just at the entrance to the
toilet. Kaylee heard the swoosh of the shower curtain being pulled back before Michael's voice whispered.

  "What is it now?”

  "They have a vehicle," Patricia answered. Kaylee stiffened in the bed of the truck. "It's against the rules.”

  "Do you know where it is? What kind?" Michael asked. He didn't sound alarmed, or even concerned.

  "No," she hissed. "I would have had it stripped if I did.”

  "They never leave all together," Michael said. "That one is always left behind. I don't think we have to worry about them. They're kids, looking for a dead man.”

  "We have the rules for a reason, or don't you remember?”

  "I remember," Michael said, his words slow and lazy. "Do you remember the purpose of them? They don't look so wildly happy over there that I think we have to worry about it.”

  "You used to worry about someone sneaking off. That doesn't bother you now? What if they find them?”

  Michael laughed. "Maybe they will. If you think so, we can always load them up with some of my stuff, let them do the delivering for us.”

  "Is that what you tried to do with James?" she asked. In the loaded silence that followed, Kaylee could feel the tension.

  "That wasn't me. I told you," Michael spoke through clenched teeth. "They weren't ready then. And I wouldn't have used your cousin.”

  Patricia sniffed, but there was an undertone of amusement there now. "So, they're ready then?”

  Kaylee didn't hear an answer, just a muffled chuckle as footsteps drifted away.

  She climbed out of the truck bed more apprehensive then ever. No, they definitely couldn't stay with the Circle throughout the winter.

  ~

  Kaylee rapped on Andrew's shoulder and the motorcycle slowed to a stop on the side of the road. They had been riding for hours.

  "I need a break," she said, swinging her leg over and landing on the grass. Andrew nodded and cut the engine.

  It had seemed so straightforward, following the men to the Walmart. Kaylee didn't think she'd have so much trouble finding her way back to where she left Emma and Jack.