Far Series | Book 3 | Far From Lost

by Mary, Kate L.

  Heath eyed me like he was trying to decide if I was trustworthy while taking another drag off his cigarette. When he’d blown the smoke into the air he said, “You know Lane?”

  My mind spun at the random question. “Yeah. I mean, not really. We just met.”

  Heath’s brows rose with interest. “So, you’re new to the group?”

  I had to bite back a sigh of frustration. “Are you just going to ask me questions, or are you going to tell me how you know Gabe?”

  “Impatient, aren’t we?” he said, a grin stretching across his face.

  I said nothing. I just glared at him.

  “Okay, okay.” Heath chuckled again. “Lane is my ex-wife.”

  That, I hadn’t expected.

  “She’s your ex?” I eyed him, recalling the story she’d told us. Heath had cheated on her and, according to Lane, Gabe and the other guys had covered for him.

  “I take it she told you about me.” More smiling. It was getting creepy.

  I crossed my arms, hugging myself as my discomfort grew. “A little.”

  “Did she also tell you how she knows Gabe?”

  At that, I frowned, not sure what he was getting at. “From the gym. She said you all went to the gym together.”

  “Half-truths are no different than lies,” Heath replied as he took another drag off his cigarette. This one longer.

  “So, what’s the truth?”

  Heath turned his head slightly, blowing the smoke away from me, his brown eyes staying on my face. Then he said, “We used to be neighbors. Lane and me, Gabe and his wife. We were friends. They had an affair.”

  My back stiffened and I uncrossed my arms, dropping them to my sides. “What?”

  “I take it that’s not the story they’re telling.”

  “No. He said—” I said, trying to make sense of the whole thing. “Lane said you cheated on her.”

  “Figures.” Again, Heath dropped the cigarette to the ground, snubbing it out with the toe of his boot. “They had an affair. Lane left me for him, Gabe left his wife for Lane, we all got divorces.”

  “But—”

  I shook my head as I thought about how much Lane and Gabe had bickered at the school. They’d acted like they hated each other, which made no sense at all.

  “What is it?” Heath asked.

  “They can barely talk without fighting.”

  He snorted. “Guess it didn’t last. Not that I’m surprised. They were so impulsive about the whole thing. Immediately moving in together. It had disaster written all over it.”

  “I can’t believe this,” I muttered to myself just as someone called, “We’re all loaded up, boss.”

  Heath shifted his gaze, focusing on the trucks, and I found myself turning as well. His people were standing around, talking and laughing, their stances casual. It wasn’t exactly what I’d expected from a group who’d just pulled guns on a bunch of strangers. It was too relaxed. They should have been cleaning their nails with long knives or something sinister like that. Did I have this thing all wrong? I hadn’t gotten a really good vibe from Gabe since arriving at the school, but I hadn’t thought he was a liar.

  Heath turned back to me. “Ready to go see your father?”

  I glanced back at him, squinting from the bright sun and lifting my hand to shield my eyes. “Yeah.”

  “Good.” He waved to the nearest truck—the one he’d gotten out of. “Let’s go.”

  Wordlessly, my mind still spinning, I headed that way, Heath walking at my side. Not behind me. It was at that moment that I realized he hadn’t put a gun to my head since my friends left. He hadn’t even acted aggressive. It almost felt like I was here voluntarily.

  “Am I your prisoner?” I asked after a few steps.

  “I wouldn’t call you a prisoner, exactly, but you’re technically not free.” He eyed me without turning his head completely. “I don’t know you, which means I don’t know if I can trust you not to slit my throat in my sleep and run off with your dad.”

  “So, he is your prisoner?”

  “I like to think we’re a community.”

  “Community?” I stopped walking, turning to face him.

  He exhaled but stopped as well. “We work together so we can survive, and as long as everyone plays their part and pulls their weight, they’re rewarded. They get a safe place and food, and anything else they need. Like I said, we’re a community.” He waved to the truck. “Now, can we leave?”

  “But my dad isn’t allowed to leave?”

  Again, Heath sighed, this time sounding more exasperated. “The questions are getting old, Rowan.”

  “I want to make sure I understand what’s going on. Is my father being held against his will? My mom was sick and died all alone, and after traveling across the country, I arrived at my house to find it empty. I assumed my dad was dead. Now I know he isn’t, and it makes me wonder what happened that kept him away for so long.” I paused, giving myself a moment to reflect on my thoughts before asking the most pressing question. “Tell me, did my dad ask if he could go home?”

  I wasn’t sure what I wanted the answer to be.

  “We need doctors.” Heath’s smile had faded, his expression now matching the hard glint in his eyes. “For the community.”

  Which meant he wasn’t technically allowed to leave, or at least something similar to that.

  “So, he is a prisoner?” I pressed.

  Heath took a step closer to me, his eyes narrowing. “Get in the truck, Rowan.”

  His voice was low and menacing. It sent a shiver down my spine, and once again I hugged myself as all my earlier anxiety came rushing back. I swallowed. Maybe Gabe had been right after all…

  Without a word, I started moving again, and this time Heath did walk behind me. It was like I was being escorted to a firing squad or something equally final even though, as far as I knew, he didn’t have a gun out. Not that he needed one. The threat in his tone was enough to make me listen, and he was well aware of it.

  The rest of his people had already climbed into the vehicles, and the car doors were all shut except the one waiting for us. It led into the back seat of an extended cab truck, and I stopped when I reached it, giving myself a moment to peer in. A woman in her mid-thirties sat on the other side, her brown hair slicked back in a severe ponytail, her hazel eyes cold and unfriendly. She also had an automatic weapon lying across her lap, and at the sight of it, my uneasiness increased. I didn’t like how this was going, but I had no one to blame but myself.

  “In,” Heath barked from behind me.

  Once again, I did as I was told without responding, pulling myself into the truck and scooting across the seat until I was practically pressed up against the other passenger. Heath climbed in after me, but I refused to look his way. To be honest, I was afraid my fear would get the better of me and I’d start crying. It was an involuntary thing and something I couldn’t control, but right now, it was the last thing I wanted to do.

  The door shut a second later, and Heath called out, “Let’s go.”

  No one spoke as we drove, and I did my best to focus on the landscape flying by rather than the situation I was in. My legs had started trembling the second Heath shut the door, and the farther we traveled, the more difficult it became to sit still. And to remain quiet. It had never been my thing. Recently, I’d come to appreciate silence a little more, thanks to Kiaya. Saying nothing when I was nervous didn’t come naturally, though, which meant I had about five dozen questions and comments swirling around in my head just begging to get out.

  Despite my relief at having the silence broken, I still jumped when the driver said, “What are we going to do about her?”

  He glanced over his shoulder long enough to give me a once-over, frowning as he did, then refocused on the road.

  “If she cooperates, she’ll become a productive part of the community,” Heath replied, his tone sounding almost bored.

  “She looks a little too soft for this world,” the woman at my s
ide replied.

  I bristled at the comment, finding it impossible to remain silent. “I can hear you.”

  “I don’t care,” she spit back, then looked past me at Heath. “What happens if she can’t contribute?”

  “Everyone gets a chance to prove themselves,” Heath replied, smiling at me like we were old friends. “Plus, her dad is with us. What kind of person would I be if I turned her away?”

  “She’s going to bring us trouble,” the passenger said, looking back. “You think her people are just going to walk away? You saw how pissed that guy was.”

  “I can handle old Gabie boy.” Heath’s grin morphed into something calculating, and I shivered. He acted like he had plenty of ideas for exactly how he wanted to handle his old nemesis. “Don’t worry. I know him well enough to know what he’s going to do.”

  “What about the other people?” the driver asked. This time, he didn’t look back.

  “Doesn’t matter.” Heath reached into his jacket to retrieve his cigarettes. “They’re not the ones in charge.”

  He rolled the window down a crack, letting in a burst of cool air, then pulled one of the delicate white sticks from the pack. Once he’d stuck it between his lips, he replaced the pack and retrieved a lighter. The click when he flicked his thumb over it seemed loud in the otherwise silent vehicle.

  “Do you have to smoke in here?” the woman beside me grumbled.

  “Yes,” came the reply. Harsh and final.

  The woman said nothing.

  The smoke from Heath’s cigarette burned my throat every time I inhaled and made my eyes water—or maybe that was the tears threatening to burst out of me—but I didn’t bother complaining. There was no point. It was clear he had little to no use for anyone else’s opinion, and mine was going to be pretty much the last one he listened to.

  We drove the rest of the way in silence, which I was actually fine with. For once. Thankfully, it was a short ride.

  When the hospital came into view, I leaned forward, desperate to get a look at the place and confirm that it was, in fact, cleaned out and safe. The trucks in front of us slowed and turned, and we followed them into the parking lot. At first, the place looked the same as it always had. Cars in the spots as if waiting for their owners to return, the building looming behind them and appearing much like it had every other time I’d been here. Then movement caught my eye, and I turned toward it just as a zombie shuffled from between a minivan and a sports car with the top down. Its slow gait and the way it dragged its feet sent a shiver shooting down my spine, but it was the hospital gown flapping in the breeze that turned my stomach.

  Had this person come here because of the virus, or had he been here for some other reason? He looked like he’d been old when he died. Sagging gray skin and bony legs, and only a few wisps of hair clinging to his smooth scalp, so he could have been here for any number of reasons. A heart attack or stroke. Maybe even cancer or some other long and debilitating disease. Had he already been on his deathbed when he contracted the virus and turned? What a horrible twist that must have been. Had he died a few months earlier instead of fighting whatever illness he’d had, he could have been resting in peace somewhere instead of dragging himself through a parking lot in hopes of devouring one of the few people left in this world.

  More and more of the dead appeared as we drove through the parking lot, drawn by the sound of our engines—and possibly the racket from the animals—and I started to get nervous. Gabe had said the place was pretty secure, but thinking about how many people had died here and turned into the walking dead made it impossible to imagine how Heath and his people had managed it.

  I shifted in my seat, trying to get a better idea of where we were going, and when the barricade came into view, my mouth dropped open in shock. The wall these people had created was a combination of bigger vehicles like vans and RVs and other items—dumpsters and trailers to name a few, and it was a hell of a lot more secure than the one Gabe’s men had constructed. And not just because it was taller. The spaces between the vehicles had been filled with what looked like cement and other random items to ensure there were no gaps, which meant there were no weaknesses in the structure either. You’d think after seeing this, Gabe would have taken the time to create something better for the school. Or at the very least gotten some bigger vehicles.

  The truck slowed to a stop behind the others, but from my position in back, I couldn’t see what was going on. I could, however, hear the occasional burst of gunfire. Who was shooting? I shifted, trying to see, but the trailer in front of us blocked my view.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, unable to stay quiet a moment longer.

  “The guards have to clear the area before they can open the gate,” Heath replied.

  I turned to face him. “Gate?”

  “How else would we get in?”

  I said nothing then turned back a second later when we started moving again.

  We followed the other trucks through the barricade, and I was finally able to get a better look at things. They’d cordoned off a good part of the parking lot outside the main entrance, leaving plenty of room for the six trucks and trailers that had come to the farm, as well as a handful of other vehicles. One of which was a school bus.

  “What’s up with the bus?” I asked but didn’t bother glancing Heath’s way. I was too busy taking in my surroundings.

  “In case we need to evacuate,” he replied. “It’s stocked with supplies, so we don’t have to leave empty handed.”

  It was impossible to hide how impressed I was when I turned to look at him. “Smart.”

  “I’m a smart guy,” he said, smiling again.

  I quickly looked away. It was creepy how it never seemed to reach his eyes.

  Once we’d come to a complete stop, Heath threw the door open and climbed out, turning to face me with the cigarette hanging from his mouth. “You’re with me.”

  Excitement pulsed through me as I scooted across the seat despite the uneasiness in my gut and the glint in Heath’s eyes when he looked me over. I was about to see my dad.

  As usual, I found it impossible to control my emotions, and tears burned at the back of my eyes. I blinked them away, irritated by my inability to keep my feelings in check and praying Heath hadn’t noticed. I didn’t want him thinking I was a sniveling coward.

  I hopped from the truck and looked around as dozens of people poured from both the other vehicles and the building.

  “There are so many survivors,” I said, awed by the numbers, and turned to look at Heath. “How did you find so many?”

  “They found us,” he replied. His tone casual, his expression not changing.

  “And you just let them in?”

  Heath sucked in a mouthful of smoke, the cigarette now little more than a nub, and tossed it to the ground so he could snub it out with the toe of his boot, his gaze staying on me the entire time.

  “As long as they can contribute, they can stay. You have to have something we need. Supplies, skills.” He paused as if to let the words sink in. “Information.”

  The uneasiness in me grew. “Information?”

  “Yes.” A smile once again stretched across his face. “Which is what you’re going to give me.”

  “I don’t know what—”

  His hand lashed out, wrapping around my forearm. It was fast and unexpected, but not necessarily violent. More like he wanted to make sure I was paying attention.

  “I think you know what I mean,” he responded, his tone as unemotional as his eyes, “so let’s not play games. One way or another, you will contribute.”

  “Heath,” someone called.

  He turned as a man jogged up, and I tried to pull away. That was when Heath’s grip tightened.

  The new guy, who was in his thirties, tall and thin and athletic looking but not beefy like Heath, did a double take when he saw me, his gaze moving from the hand gripping my arm to his leader.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

&nb
sp; “New recruit,” Heath replied. “What’s up?”

  The guy hesitated, his green eyes flicking to me for a moment. Then he shook his head and focused on Heath. “I was just about to bug Bill when I heard you were back.”

  “You know not to bother him,” Heath said, his tone dismissive. “What is it?”

  “The other group got back a little bit ago,” the guy said. “They got a good haul.”

  “Good.” A satisfied smile pulled up Heath’s lips. “So, Robert’s little tip paid off.”

  “Guess that means he’s off probation?”

  “Seems like a team player to me,” Heath replied.

  The other guy nodded. “Good. I’ll let him know.”

  He took a step back, ready to head off, but stopped when Heath said, “Take the equipment to my office, will you? I need it for this one.” He jerked his head toward me.

  Once again, the guy’s gaze flicked my way. “Yeah,” he replied, but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice. “Okay.”

  “Do we have a problem, Ryan?”

  The guy—Ryan—hesitated. “She’s here of her own free will, right?” He waved to where Heath’s hand was wrapped around my arm. “’Cause it doesn’t look like it.”

  “Actually,” Heath said, a smile lighting up his face but still not reaching his eyes, “she begged me to bring her.” He turned his brown eyes on me. “Didn’t you, Rowan?”

  “Yeah.” I didn’t even hesitate despite the hand wrapped around my arm. Plus, what could I say? I had begged him to bring me here. “I wanted to come.”

  Ryan studied me for a moment longer, his frown deepening. “You’re sure about that?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  He shook his head but turned away, calling over his shoulder as he jogged off, “If you say so.”

  Silently and without even a glance in my direction, Heath followed Ryan, my arm still in his grasp.

  The trailers were being unloaded when we passed them, and not a single person seemed to notice us. They were too busy corralling the newly acquired animals and leading them into the building, of all places. We followed a woman who was guiding a cow to the front door, and twice I had to dodge a fresh pile of animal poop. The sight of the steaming mound turned my stomach as I imagined the halls of the hospital dotted with the stuff. It would have been risky keeping the animals outside since the noise would attract more of the dead—and possibly even people—but they couldn’t possibly be planning on keeping them inside. Could they?