AS CARRIE AND BRADEN walked the few houses home, Carrie felt the evening chill her bones. It was going to be cold for a summer night.
“I just wanted to let you know that I changed my mind,” Braden said.
She looked over. “Really?”
“At least for now. After hearing Greg’s story…” Braden shoved his hands in his pockets. “I need to see what happens with this rebellion. I don’t want to get caught on the wrong side.”
“That’s wise.”
Her head pounded with each step they took. Today was the first time Oliver had dropped by and not even tried to see her. It was like he knew Greg was back, and he’d already given up. Maybe it was for the best. Then again, maybe not. She sighed. At least Greg was giving her time to sort through everything.
Carrie didn’t notice Braden had followed her all the way to her front door until she opened it. If she hadn’t felt so foggy, she would have remembered why he walked her home—the real reason behind his chivalry.
“Oh, come on in,” Carrie said. “Let me find Amber.”
She dragged herself upstairs and knocked on Amber’s bedroom door.
Amber opened it. “Yeah?”
“Braden is downstairs,” Carrie said. “He wants to—”
The bedroom door started to slam shut, but Carrie’s hand shot out to block it. “Just give him a chance to explain.”
“Why should I?” Amber said, plenty loud for Braden to hear. “You two are all cozy now. Maybe you should give him a chance.”
“You’re right. Maybe I will,” Carrie said, too tired to fight her. “Goodnight, Amber.”
“Wait. You can’t have Braden. He’s mine.” Amber grabbed her arm, eyes narrowing on Carrie’s face. “Are you okay?”
Carrie rubbed her head, tempted to go to bed before the sun set. It almost felt like she was coming down with something, which wasn’t good. She didn’t have time to be sick.
“Just be nice to him,” she said. “He’s a good guy.”
When she went downstairs for a cup of water a few minutes later, Amber and Braden sat on the front steps. Braden had his arm around her, and Amber’s soft laughter drifted inside.
Well, that was easy, Carrie thought.
Zach sat at the kitchen table, two slingshots in front of him.
“Ready for bed?” Carrie asked.
He gave her a strange look. “No. Can I stop by Greg’s house after the meeting? I wanna show him what I’ve done.”
“No. It’s going to be dark soon.”
“But I have to give him back his slingshot. You haven’t let me see him all day,” Zach whined.
“Greg has a lot on his mind right now with his mom, trying to find other clans, and…” She leaned heavily against the counter. “And everything.”
Zach froze. “He’s trying to find other clans?”
“We all are. Maybe we should try a different direction, like Centennial?” She drank the cool water, struggling to remember the map they’d sketched. “No, too far. Orchard Vines?”
Zach suddenly shot to his feet. “No, you can’t!”
Startled, she turned. “Why not?”
“You can’t go looking for others. It will ruin everything!”
“What are you talking about, Zach? Ruin what?”
His eyes went big, deer-in-the-headlights size. “Nothing. Never mind.”
Her little brother dropped back on his chair and pretended to study his slingshot. He was obviously hiding something, but it took her a moment to realize what.
She sat next to him. “Zach, what do you know?”
His jaw tightened.
“Please, Zach. What did you and Tucker see?”
“There are others,” he said softly. “Other people in other clans.”
Carrie’s heart skipped. “How do you know?”
“Because I’ve met them.”
* * * * *
Zach knocked softly on the Trenton’s front door, but no one answered. He could hear the adults talking inside, making him want to turn tail and run home. But Carrie threatened him that if he didn’t tell everyone what he and Tucker had been doing, he’d be grounded for the rest of his life. For real this time.
He cracked open the door and sneaked in.
May’s living room was stuffed with adults. Greg was in the middle of talking when he spotted Zach. He straightened. “What’s up, Zach? Is somethin’ wrong with Carrie?”
Zach played with his hands. He was the only kid there, and the adults stared at him like he had something nasty on his face. Carrie was mad enough. Tucker would kill him for breaking their pact—plus everyone else in this room. Tucker’s dad sat on the far side of the room, watching him. Zach was going to pay for this big time.
“Carrie sent me because…” Nerves twisted his stomach. “I know something, and she thought it was important for your meeting.”
“Alrighty. Come on up where we can all see you,” Greg said, waving him forward.
Hating his life and everyone in it, Zach shuffled up front. Then he stared down at the floor as he started. “Everyone here thinks there aren’t any clans left, but there are. ‘Cause I’ve seen them.”
Greg’s eyes widened, and Zach could see him figuring it out like Carrie had.
If only they knew how many times he and Tucker had actually sneaked out.
He scratched his head, looked at Tucker’s dad again, and then it all blurted out. How he and Tucker went exploring one day and came across a couple of kids. How those kids invited them to their secret meeting they had once a week, only teenagers allowed.
“It’s supposed to be top secret,” Zach said, “and they’ll never let me back in for telling all of you, but…” Wincing, he finished. “They all come from different clans.”
“How many clans?” Greg asked eagerly.
“Four or five. I can’t remember.”
“Do you know the clan names or where they’re located?” Terrell asked.
Zach finally had enough brains to clamp his mouth shut. They’d kill him, Delaney especially. She’d never talk to him again. It wasn’t worth it. He’d rather die.
Greg took him by the shoulders and bent down to look him in the eye. “Zach, this is real important. We need your help to make contact.”
“I don’t remember the names of their clans,” he said, “but maybe I could ask them sometime.”
Fat chance of that.
“Or…you and I will ask them together.” Greg smiled. “‘Cause I’m comin’ with you.”
forty-eight
CARRIE FELL ONTO HER ugly couch to wait for Zach. She hadn’t realized she’d dozed off until he burst through the front door.
“Greg said I can go with them,” Zach announced. “He said he was proud of me for being honest.”
Forced honesty, but she didn’t point that out. “Good. You’re still in a lot of trouble.” She couldn’t think what kind, so she waved him away. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Go to bed. It’s late.”
Amber came inside soon after, on cloud nine. Braden had explained everything, and Amber was elated that he’d moved past that “obsession.” She even did a little twirl.
“We kissed and made up and everything,” she crowed.
“Good,” Carrie said. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Go to bed. It’s late.”
Instead of heading upstairs, Amber sat next to her on the old torn couch. “You haven’t told me about your walk with Greg. Is everything okay? You seem sad.”
Carrie gave a weak thumbs up. “Things are good with Greg. Everything else, not so much. Bad day. Plus, I think I might be getting sick.” She threw an arm over her hot forehead, tempted to sleep right there on the couch.
“Sick?” Pulling a face, Amber backed away from her. “You’re not going to throw up, are you?”
“No. Just a headache.”
“Oh. Good. Want help upstairs?”
“No. I got it.”
Carrie dragged herself off the couch and up to her room where she rolled out her blank
ets and pillow and collapsed in relief, not even bothering to change.
The first time she woke up freezing. The next time she was sweating and throwing off her blankets. Feeling her way to the dark bathroom, she grabbed a drink from the water bucket to relieve her dry throat. If only she had ibuprofen or something for her throbbing head. Once she changed into pajamas, she crawled back under her blankets, but she couldn’t sleep anymore.
As the first rays of morning lit her window, she decided to watch the sunrise from her porch, craving the crisp morning air. She sat up slowly, feeling every achy joint, and wrapped her blanket around her as she headed downstairs.
It was surprisingly cold for July but also peaceful and serene. From her porch steps, she watched the sky in the east turn from dark navy to pink. The sunrise gave her hope. Nights could be ominously black, but day always came. While times could be tough, the human will to survive was strong. Greg had proven that. Of course, that same survival instinct made people do things they wouldn’t normally do.
Like stealing from friends? she wondered. She meant what she had told Sasha. Zach’s shoes were falling apart, and Terrell hadn’t found replacements yet. Plus, they always needed—
“You okay?”
Carrie jumped. Blinking hard, she saw a person on the sidewalk in front of her. Greg. Though he hadn’t tried to sneak up on her. It was strange. She’d watched him come out of his house and cross the street toward her, but it hadn’t registered until he spoke that he was right there.
He crouched down and peered at her. “Okay. Now you’re startin’ to scare me. I know I’m an amazing kisser, but this kinda reaction is a little much, don’t you think?”
She would have rolled her eyes if they didn’t burn so badly.
“What’s up?” he said, feeling her forehead. “Wow. You’re burnin’ up. Is that why you ditched me by the pond?”
She groaned. Their walk. She’d been looking forward to it. “I forgot. I’m sorry, Greg. I feel asleep early.”
“No worries. I knew you weren’t up for a midnight stroll—not that I didn’t wait out there just in case.” He winked at her before sitting next to her on the porch. He slipped his hand into hers. It was so warm and heavenly she didn’t pull free like she should have. “Why didn’t you tell me you were gettin’ sick?”
“It’s nothing. I just didn’t sleep well again.” She rubbed a pulsing, tender spot behind her ear. “How was the rest of the meeting?”
“Dylan suggested we inventory the supplies in Ferris,” he said. “Then we can use them on a need-only basis.”
“Oh. Good.” That was better than taking things outright.
Her head fell on his Greg’s shoulder. She hadn’t meant to let it, but her head was unbearably heavy and his shoulder was so close. The second she did, he slipped an arm around her blanketed shoulders and pulled her closer.
“Are you comin’ on to me, Miss Ashworth?” he whispered into her hair.
She should have been embarrassed, but his shoulder was too comfy.
Shoulder.
“Oh, no,” she said, trying to sit up. “I forgot. Your bad shoulder.”
“Whoa. Don’t be goin’ anywhere. You got the good one,” he said, pressing her head back down against him. “The other one’s gettin’ better anyway.”
She didn’t believe him, but she didn’t fight him either. Resting against him, she closed her eyes against the piercing morning sun. Sunshine shouldn’t hurt so much.
He kissed her forehead. “Man, you really are hot. Oh, and you’re burning up, too.”
That time she did roll her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she could handle this side of Greg, the side where he said whatever he thought with no regard for her reserved, easily embarrassed nature. Plus, there was a new intensity to him that frightened her.
“Mind if we take Zach with us today?” he asked. “He can point us in the direction where those kids came from.”
She was still furious that Zach had been sneaking out, but punishment could come later. “Okay. How soon do you want to leave?”
“Soon. Before the day gets too hot. I was gonna head to Terrell’s after I talked to you. Then we’ll meet Richard at the front of the sub.”
Another long walk sounded like torture, but she hoped that once she got moving, the haze in her head would clear. As hard as it was, she shifted away from Greg’s warmth and stood.
“Okay. I’ll go wake Zach up. We’ll be ready in a minute.”
Greg looked up at her. “Heya…maybe you should stay home for this one.”
“Why?” she said, stung. Just because she broke down in Ferris didn’t mean she was weak. She wasn’t.
“No offense, but you look like death. I don’t know how far we’re gonna have to walk today.”
“Says the guy with the bad leg,” she pointed out. “If you can walk, so can I. Besides, I want to see other clans for myself. It might ease my mind.” Plus, she didn’t trust Greg to ask for the kind of medical attention he needed. She dropped the blanket from her shoulders and immediately regretted it. Goosebumps ran down the length of her arms. “Maybe I’ll go with you to get Terrell.”
Greg scrutinized her with a strange expression.
“What?” she said more sharply than intended, but the cold was already seeping through her clothes.
“Somethin’ tells me you don’t want Terrell seein’ you like this. I mean, I’m a huge fan of your pjs, but…”
Her gaze dropped to her dad’s old t-shirt and ratty sweats hanging on her body, both thread-bare. She felt her hair, wild and tangled, realizing she’d come straight from bed, not thinking she’d see someone.
She leaned against her porch railing. “Man, I really am out of it.”
“Yes you are,” Greg said with a laugh. “I’ll probably have to drag Terrell’s lazy hide outta bed, so take your time. We’ll be back for y’all in a bit.”
As expected, Terrell had been sound asleep, and so had Jada. Greg finally convinced their nine-year-old twins to quit chasing each other around the house long enough to wake up their parents. Terrell straggled downstairs, rubbing his afro with a scowl. He grumbled the entire way to Carrie’s, but Greg ignored him. It felt good to be doing something productive again.
Greg knocked the clan signal on Carrie’s door.
“Carrie didn’t take Ferris too well,” Terrell said. “Which was strange. I don’t really take her for the emotional type, at least not like other women around here.”
“Definitely not like other women,” Greg said.
“Are you sure she’s awake?” Terrell asked.
“She was.”
Greg knocked again and then peeked inside. Immediately, he wished he’d done the two actions in reverse. Carrie had changed into her blue blouse, and her hair was pulled back in a pony-tail, but she was curled up and sound asleep on her old couch.
Zach whisked open the door. “Carrie, they’re here!”
She didn’t budge.
Greg crept into the living room and felt her forehead again. Burning hot. There was no way she was up to a long day of walking. She’d probably shoot him for going without her, but he backed up.
“Let’s go,” Greg whispered. But before he closed the front door, he said, “Hey, Zach, where’s my slingshot?”
Zach whipped it out of his back pocket. “Here. Why? Are we gonna need it?”
“Possibly.”
“Tell me you’re not going to protect us with that little thing,” Terrell said darkly.
“Nope. Zach is,” Greg said.
Terrell’s mouth dropped, and Zach looked seconds shy of fainting.
Greg smiled. “Richard’s meeting us out front of his house. He has both rifles. Let’s go.”
forty-nine
WHEN CARRIE WOKE, she wasn’t thinking about Greg, Zach, or anything besides herself. She had chills like never before. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop shaking. The aches were bone-deep. Her head, her neck, her legs. Even her skin hurt. And all of it see
med to originate from one spot, like someone was stabbing the back of her skull with a dull knife.
She was back in her bedroom, even though she couldn’t remember getting there, and it was dark outside again, even though it didn’t seem like a whole day had passed. Rolling over, she pulled the blanket over her head to sleep.
The dreams she had. Vivid nightmares of Zach and Amber being ripped away by David Jamansky. One time she woke panting so wildly it felt like her heart would burst from her ribcage. In that dream, her house had burned with her siblings inside and Oliver holding a flaming torch.
Shivers racked her body. If she’d had any energy, she would have put on another pair of socks—maybe even her winter coat. As it was, she didn’t want to move more than she had to.
Squinting in the dark, she noticed Amber’s blanket already on top of her own. Carrie half-remembered Amber asking if she needed anything, but she couldn’t remember answering. Now all she wanted was sleep, sleep, and more sleep. But each time she woke up, she felt worse. The migraine. Her neck.
Time stood still.
Even the crazy dreams eventually stopped.
It had been years since she had felt so ill, definitely before the Collapse, and she wished for medicine to knock her out. She couldn’t remember anyone in the clan being that sick either, at least not since that first year, as if there was a limited germ pool they’d used up, and there was nothing left to pass around. Living like a recluse had a few benefits.
So why now? she wondered.
Then she remembered. Kissing Greg.
Mortification rolled through her. He’d exposed her to something from training.
As embarrassing as that would have been, her headache had started before their walk to Ferris, before a single kiss. And she’d barely seen Greg the night before. He wasn’t sick anyway. No, this had to be from somewhere else. She’d met Brooke’s group, but Terrell had kept her back. Richard was the only one who had shaken any hands. Which meant she’d contracted something on her date with Oliver back on Monday.
Her first real exposure to society.
Groaning, she laid a frozen hand on her burning cheeks to help both body parts. The relief was only temporary, and she flipped her hand over to swap temperatures again. While her internal thermostat craved the fetal position, her neck and back ached too badly from lying so long.
Citizens of Logan Pond Box Set Page 77
