Love and Decay, Vol. Two

by Rachel Higginson

  I hadn’t noticed the turmoil in her expression or rigidness in her manner until it disappeared. It was something she had always carried with her, an impenetrable armor that had protected her wounded heart. But today that armor had been stripped away and replaced with something that looked a lot like peace.

  I could relate. I dealt with the same prickly exterior until a few days ago when Hendrix and I worked things out. Now the stone and mortar I’d used to erect walls around my heart and soul had crumbled to nothing but ash. It didn’t imprison me or keep me out of reach. I was wide open to Hendrix and everything our relationship brought with it. Even if that was scary. Even if I had never felt more vulnerable.

  More fragile.

  I had a love that surpassed this world and made everything in this world worth it. I had the love of a man I did not deserve and the hope of an unshakable future that could be something like greatness if we both survived long enough to get there.

  And that made me strong. And brave.

  That made me the opposite of fragile.

  Now I could hate Matthias and wish him the worst kind of death, but still know who I was as a person, still know that at my center goodness remained… loyalty, love and hope remained.

  I was happy for Tyler. And I was even happier that in the pits of hell, both of us had found our way. We were not lost.

  Diego shifted abruptly in his sleep and the pain of the movement jerked him awake. He sucked in a gasping breath, like it was the first he’d ever taken, but it quickly turned into violent coughing. I winced for him because I knew that had to hurt like a son of a bitch.

  His eyes scrunched shut and he started to make the ugliest wincing sounds. Javi dropped to a squat and tried to adjust him so the pain would ebb. It didn’t for a long time.

  Finally, when he was conscious but still, his head swung to the side and he absorbed where he was and who was with him. Whispered Spanish obscenities fell from his cracked lips before he blinked me into focus.

  “Reagan,” he wheezed with his horrible pronunciation.

  “Diego.”

  “This can’t be a good thing,” he remarked dryly. His hands were curled against his stomach as if he needed them to hold his insides in. When he spoke he tried to lift one hand to gesture at his body, but only his fingers managed to respond.

  “This is not a good thing,” I confirmed. “Matthias killed most of your men and your entire Zombie horde. Then he took over your village. We’re waiting for him to pack us up and drag us back to America.” I thought about that for a second and added, “I think I mean that literally.”

  Diego’s head flopped back to center and he closed his eyes. “Arrogant,” he murmured. “I was too arrogant.”

  Hendrix let out a slow breath, “That seems to be the moral of this entire saga.”

  “He will kill me before he leaves,” Diego gritted through a croaking whisper. “If my wound does not finish the task first.”

  I didn’t say anything to that. I couldn’t exactly reassure him that everything would be okay when we both knew that it would most definitely not be okay.

  His soldier bent down and spoke fast Spanish again. Occasionally Diego nodded along, but mostly he listened with a disgusted look spread across his face.

  “I am dead,” Diego announced after a while. “I am a dead man. The infection smells. I can feel the life draining from my body. Time is against me. Everyone is against me.” He crooked a finger from his abdomen and I took it to mean that he wanted me to come closer.

  Without thinking too much about my decision, I pushed off the wall behind me and moved to kneel next to Diego’s bed.

  “Nobody likes a pity party,” I told him, attempting to lighten the situation.

  I wasn’t sure if he understood me or even heard me. He shook his head with his eyes still closed. Sweat beaded on his forehead and slicked his thick hair to his head. His skin had lost the rich, copper tone and faded to a sickly pale. His infection did stink, really bad. I could see that the blood still oozed. This was what a dying man looked like up close and personal.

  Not that I hadn’t seen one before. But I could never quite get used to the look of death.

  It was too personal. Too near. Too… final.

  “I have nothing left, Reagan, except her. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, before I realized he couldn’t see me. “Adela.”

  His hand slid up his filthy, bloodied shirt and landed on his chest. He tapped at his heart with a weak finger. “She is my heart. Mi corazón. I have loved her since I saw her silky hair and whispered her name for the first time. Her father tried to keep her from me, but I promised him a long time ago that she would be mine.” He paused to suck in a rasping breath. “For a while, she was.”

  I shifted, settling in for story time. “She’s not property, Diego. You cannot own her.”

  He nodded listlessly. “She owns me.”

  Somewhat shocked at his confession, I leaned forward and tried to read his expression. Was he serious? He loved her that much? His forehead smoothed out and his mouth stopped frowning.

  “Then why did you let her go? If she means so much to you, why did you give her up?” My heart pounded in my chest and I couldn’t help but feel like Diego was about to reveal all of himself, to show me good, worthy pieces of his soul I assumed had been erased a long time ago.

  “I didn’t want to cage her,” he rasped. “I wanted to keep her safe. Now she is safe. From her father… from my enemies… from me.”

  “Does she love you?” I whispered, shocked by his words.

  The hint of a smile played on his lips, “Of course… But she is afraid of me too.” His head dropped to the side. For a moment I thought he had died, but when I put my fingers to his wrist, I felt his pulse beat with my own and watched the ragged movement of his chest.

  I fell backwards, in a daze. I had no idea who Diego really was. He was as much of a mystery today as he had been the first time I met him.

  Watching him in his fitful sleep, I realized something: This was the human condition. Right here.

  For all of our murderous, power-hungry ways, for all of our desperation to survive and keep surviving, for all of the evil things we did in the name of good or in the honesty of evil, we were nothing without love.

  It was what separated us from the Feeders.

  We could be good or bad, nice or vicious, but each of us was capable of something so far beyond ourselves that often it didn’t make sense.

  Even Matthias had loved Linley and his children, in whatever sick, twisted way he could. Love had transformed Kane into something better, something that deserved better. Love had shattered Tyler’s hard shell and given Haley something infinitely beautiful. Love had redeemed even Diego, had given him a purpose beyond his own greed and ambition.

  Love had rocked my world entirely. It had drastically changed the person that I was and evolved my heart into something I never thought it could be. All of us lived for a purpose, whether we wanted complete world domination or we just wanted to survive until tomorrow.

  Something drove us.

  But love made us. Love cushioned our failures and righted our wrongs. It gave us hope when there was none and determination when everything else had been stripped away.

  Love was the only incentive strong enough to keep us moving through this world of endless danger and painful disappointment. Love was the beginning and the end.

  And I had it. I had it in spades.

  That was how I knew we would win… how I knew we would prevail over Matthias.

  Matthias’s love had been twisted and tainted with his poison. He had put his wife in a position where she had to be murdered. He had pushed his son to the brink of rebellion. He had abused Tyler and Miller since they were infants, all in the name of family.

  And now he had nothing. Now he was a desperate man, fueled by vengeance and evil gain. But I had love. I had the love of my friends and this family that had become my own.

  But most o
f all, I had the love of a man who would never let me go, never let this world or our circumstances pull us apart.

  I would win because I had a greater weapon than guns and fists. I would win because no matter what Matthias Allen thought he lived for, it was not greater than what I lived for. The future he imagined was nothing compared to the future I would do anything to reach.

  I stood up, turned around and threw my arms around Hendrix’s neck. He had been standing directly behind me, protecting me in any way that he could. I pressed my face against his chest and inhaled him. He smelled like sweat, dirt and blood, but there was something so much more to him, something that was only him.

  I dragged my fingers over the back of his neck and plunged them into his matted hair. We were a mess, covered in the gore of yesterday and the filth of this prison. Our clothes were torn, our skin scraped raw and bloodied, our hair caked in grime and worse things. But we were so much more than physical appearance, so much more than our circumstances and situations.

  “I didn’t expect that from the ruthless war lord,” he mumbled against my ear. “Adela has to be at least fifteen years younger than him.”

  I smiled against his shirt. “I was just thinking that. It doesn’t make sense, but everything boils down to love, yeah? Love or insane evil, the two driving forces of this world.”

  Hendrix pulled back to cup my face with his calloused hands. “That was pretty poetic.”

  I shrugged, “I’m an apocalyptic philosopher.”

  He kissed the tip of my nose. “That so?”

  “I mean, obviously. But you’re right. It’s weird about Adela and Diego. Do you think he’s going to die?”

  Hendrix nodded. “Unless we get out of here fast.” He looked back at his brother and jerked his chin for them to join us. “We need a plan. Harrison and King are going to come back for us, probably with Nelson. But we need something in the meantime.”

  Vaughan nodded. “We need this cell door opened.”

  The wind rattled the blackened windows around the building. We had a half window high up on the wall of our cell, but the thick bars in enclosing it kept it from being useful. It appeared completely black without any hazy sunlight to filter through.

  “If we get out of here, what are we going to do? He has enough men to shoot all of us in seconds,” I whispered.

  “Hey!” one of Matthias’s guards yelled at us. He threw a stapler across the room and it clanged against the metal of the bars. Javi shouted back at him in Spanish, clearly not happy with the now damaged office supply. The guard ignored Javi, “No whispering!”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, guys, we wouldn’t want to whisper our way out of here.”

  The guard jumped to his feet and pushed to stand in front of the bars. He stuck his hand through, pointing a meaty finger at me. I had the strongest urge to bite that stupid finger right off.

  I managed, just barely, to withhold that urge.

  “Shut your mouth, bitch. You’re lucky I don’t end your miserable existence right here.” His non-pointing hand pulled a gun from the back of his pants.

  “Do it,” I hissed at him. I hadn’t even realized I started to move forward until Hendrix wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back to his chest. “Do it!” I screamed at him. “Shoot me. Kill me! Do it!” The guard stared at me, steam practically whistling from his ears. His upper lip curled with frustration and his eyes bulged from his head. He couldn’t touch me and we both knew it. “Kill me,” I taunted. “I’ll meet you on the other side.”

  He jammed his gun back into his pants and I prayed for a misfire. I would have loved that. Unfortunately he wasn’t as dumb as he appeared. “I’m watching you,” he promised.

  “Good,” Tyler threw at him. “That’s what you’re supposed to do. Pretty sure Matthias would kill you if you did anything else.”

  His face turned red with fury. And when he tried to speak spittle sprayed from his mouth and landed on his sweaty brown shirt. “It’s not me he’ll be killing.”

  Tyler and I shared a look and I almost laughed. Clearly this man was unhinged. Did Matthias have any sane men working for him? I doubted it.

  “Can we go just like a half hour without a death threat?” Hendrix chuckled. “Is that too much to ask?”

  I lay my head back on his solid chest and shook my head no. He should know by now that I had trouble making friends. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  “Yeah,” Vaughan grunted. “This is all about fun.”

  “Well, it’s certainly not boring.” I smiled at him to cover my despair. Truthfully, I would love boring. I would love it if the next hundred years of my life were so boring they brought me to tears. I’d had enough excitement to last several last times. I couldn’t do this for much longer.

  Then again, maybe I wouldn’t have to. Maybe Matthias would change his mind about the long years of torture in my future and shoot me before we stepped foot on American soil.

  My stomach churned. I wasn’t afraid of death, not after all of this. If the last three years had taught me anything it was that death was not some scary unknown. Death was relief… death was retirement. Death was freedom. There were so many things worse than death on this earth. And I swore that I had met them all.

  A gust of wind shook the building. Plaster dusted off the ceiling and the lanterns flickered. Javi took a pleased breath followed by a slow clap. The guards looked around at each other with raised eyebrows, gripping their guns tighter in their fists.

  Diego moaned in his fitful sleep and I was surprised to feel relief. He hadn’t died yet. We would never be friends, but I knew I didn’t want Matthias to be the reason he crossed over.

  Between the weather outside and our current captivity, the world had never seemed more Apocalyptic. A chill snaked through my bones and wrapped around my spine. The electricity in the air danced on my skin, pulling my hair into standing and raising goose bumps.

  There was something about this moment, something final.

  I would never see America again. I knew that. I knew it without having to be told or voicing it aloud. My days as an American were over. I wouldn’t join the Colony. I would never see the place of my birth again.

  I’d chosen this path. I’d collected people I could love and stay loyal to. And I had said goodbye to a country I had never planned to leave before the infection.

  The finality of this realization hit me like a punch in the gut. I closed my eyes against sudden, surprising tears. I had loved that land. I had never thought of myself as a patriot before, but until now, I hadn’t let myself mourn the country I left behind… only the people.

  I hated Mexico. Honestly, it reminded me mostly of hell. I didn’t really expect the rest of Central and South America to get any better either.

  But there was no other choice. Either we managed to escape and I fled this place for a new home or I died here. I knew that for certain.

  In no way would I let Matthias put me on a truck and force me back to a place he contaminated, to a place that represented home for me, but would turn into endless years of torture and pain.

  I would die first. Matthias and his chamber of never-ending pain was definitely one of those worse-than-death things I hoped to avoid.

  This was it. This was my moment of truth and discovery.

  I turned around and wrapped my arms around Hendrix’s waist again. I couldn’t seem to stop touching him.

  I never wanted to stop touching him.

  I wanted the chance to touch him forever.

  “We have to get out of here,” I said to his chest. I brushed my lips over the carved muscle, feeling his warm skin through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. “We need to do something.”

  “Piss him off,” Hendrix murmured.

  I lifted my head and met his deep blue eyes. This place was dark without light from the outside to help the candles and lanterns illuminate us, but I could feel the depth of his gaze. Like an ocean.

  Like the sky full of infinite stars.


  Hendrix held steady. His arms tightened around my waist and his fingers dug into my hips. I felt his fear, but his voice stayed constant. My fingers tracked the frantic beat of his heart. He knew we were out of options. This was it. Kill or be killed. “Goad him into opening the door and we’ll make a move.”

  “You think he’ll fall for it?” I didn’t share the same confidence. My voice wavered with fear.

  “If anyone can get him to, it’s you, Reagan. I’ve never seen anyone get so insane with rage. Force him to open that cell door and we’ll make our move.”

  I licked my dry lips and tried to think of a better plan, a plan that wouldn’t line us up in front of a firing squad.

  But weren’t we already there?

  “Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll piss him off.”

  He smiled a soft smile at me. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

  The lantern light flickered over his handsome face, spotlighting the sharp bones of his cheeks. His beard covered the bottom half of his face attractively. His eyes glittered at me, hiding secrets that belonged only with us, meant only for us.

  I breathed in slowly and savored this moment with him. I tried to memorize every piece of him, committing it to an eternal place inside of me. I wanted to keep this picture of him forever. I wanted to always remember how much he loved me, how much he would sacrifice to be with me and stay with me.

  This love we shared tied us together with an unbreakable bond. I had never felt so connected to something before, so bound to anything else. And I was utterly amazed that it would not go away, that I could possibly feel like this for the rest of my life.

  What I had with Hendrix would only grow stronger, only become more intense. I couldn’t even understand how that was possible. I already felt as much for him as I could feel, as much as I was capable of.

  My hands started to tremble and my tongue felt clumsy. Hot tears pricked at my eyes, but not because I was still afraid. Not even because I was insecure. No, it was the force of my love for this man that wanted to swallow me whole. This love remained too powerful for me to contain, and too consuming for me to hold in the delicate cage of my body. “I love you,” I swore to him.