I lowered myself onto the chair at his side. “She wasn’t. You know how impulsive she is. She’s driven by her emotions.”
“I love and hate that about her.” He shook his head, a sad and tortured smile pulling at his lips but never completely making it out. “But damn, how could she run off like this?”
“She’ll be okay.” I put a hand on his knee. “We’ll figure out a way to get her back.”
Devon’s head bobbed, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at the floor thoughtfully. I hated the idea of heaping more worry onto his already burdened shoulders, but I needed to bring up the situation with Hank.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
He lifted his gaze, his blue eyes meeting mine. “What’s up?”
“It’s about Hank.” I exhaled, trying to frame my thoughts in a way that didn’t paint the kid as a total psychopath. “Something about him has been bugging me. The way he watches everyone—the women in particular—so closely. How he’s always following Zara around. It’s making me uneasy.”
Devon’s back straightened as he switched to what I liked to think of as cop mode. “You think he’s dangerous?”
“I don’t know, I just think we should keep an eye on him. I already talked to Zara about it, and I told her to be careful, but I want to know someone else has an eye on the situation when I’m not around.”
Devon’s expression turned thoughtful. “He walked in on Rowan and me kissing yesterday.” A pained expression crossed his face at the mention of Rowan, but he managed to stay focused. “He acted like it was an accident, but the way he was watching us did strike me as strange.”
“He walked in on me changing my clothes back at Rowan’s house.”
Devon’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I thought it was an accident.” My shrug probably made me seem less concerned about the situation than I really was. “I mean, I didn’t want to cause alarm if there wasn’t anything to be worried about. But since then, I’ve felt more and more uneasy.”
He pressed his lips together, pausing a moment to think. “We won’t make a big deal out of it until there’s something solid, but I’ll keep an eye on him. You might want to talk to Lisa and Buck about it, too. Get a couple more sets of eyes on the situation.”
“I was planning to talk to Lisa when we left.” I glanced toward the door, my focus shifting now that I’d talked things over with Devon. “Speaking of Buck, have you seen him since we got back?”
“No.” He ran his hand down his face. “God, I hope he’s not drunk somewhere. I have too much to worry about already.”
A wave of regret swept over me. “Maybe I should have waited to bring up the Hank situation.”
“No.” Devon let out a sigh of frustration as he got to his feet. “I’d rather know so I can keep an eye on things. Hopefully, he’s just an awkward kid and not actually a real danger to anyone.”
“Yeah,” I said, standing as well.
“Now to figure out what’s going on with Buck.”
We headed out, coming face to face with Miller only a few steps into the hall.
He rushed toward us, his hazel eyes wild and full of concern. “What’s this I hear about Rowan being taken hostage?”
“Exactly what you just said.” Devon kept walking, pushing past the other man, and I did as well.
Miller hurried to catch up. “What are you going to do about it?”
“We’re working on a plan,” Devon replied, his tone letting Miller know he wasn’t interested in talking about it. Or maybe he just wasn’t interested in talking to the corporal about it.
“Is she okay?” The worry on Miller’s face looked surprisingly genuine as he kept stride with us. “Do we know anything about the people who took her?”
Devon worked his jaw like he was having a difficult time controlling his temper.
“She’ll be fine,” I jumped in, trying to assure Miller. “Gabe and Lane know the guy who took her fairly well, and they’re positive she’s not in any real danger.”
“Why did they take her, then?” the corporal continued, his tone insistent.
It was so unlike how he’d behaved in the past that I couldn’t help studying him, trying to figure out what he was thinking and why he seemed to care. All I could deduce, however, was that Miller seemed to actually care. Strange.
“She asked them to take her.” Devon’s words were strained.
Miller stopped walking, and even though I wanted to keep going, I paused as well.
He looked confused and uncertain, almost like he was trying to clear it. “What?”
“Her dad is there,” I explained.
The corporal’s bewilderment grew. “I thought he was dead.”
“That was what Rowan thought, too. Today, she found out differently,” I said. “She acted impulsively. It was reckless and stupid, and now we’re going to have to figure out a way to get her back. We’re working out some details, but right now I need to check on the kids.”
“And find Buck,” Devon added.
I looked over my shoulder to discover he’d stopped walking and was only five feet in front of us.
At the mention of the older man, Miller’s gaze turned stony, making him look more like himself. The expression also reminded me of how he’d acted at Rowan’s when we’d first discussed Buck’s drinking problem. Bitter and very unforgiving.
“The old fool is in our room,” he spit out.
Devon’s shoulders seemed to slump, as if Miller’s words had heaped more weight on them. “Is he drunk?”
“As a skunk.” The corporal gave an irritated and dismissive shrug. “I tried to tell you this would happen.”
“Great,” Devon muttered to himself, choosing to ignore the second comment.
I got where Miller was coming from probably better than anyone because I’d grown up with a junkie mother and witnessed firsthand what he was referring to, but I’d learned a long time ago that being angry and bitter didn’t help anyone. Least of all me.
“Have you seen the kids?” I asked Miller instead of mentioning Buck again.
“Cafeteria, I think.” He gave another unconcerned shrug. “That’s where they were the last time I saw them, anyway. Hank’s the one who told me about Rowan. He said it right in front of the others, and I’m pretty sure he scared the little girl to death. The big, dumb guy, too.”
“Randall.” I didn’t bother trying to hold back my sigh of frustration. “He has a name.”
Again, Miller shrugged. He seemed to have two modes. Annoyance and indifference. Then there was this newfound concern of his, which I couldn’t quite account for. Maybe he did have a human side after all, buried somewhere deep inside him, underneath the bitterness.
“One of these days someone is going to beat the shit out of you, Miller.” Devon started walking again. “Me, probably.”
I looked pointedly at the corporal, who only rolled his eyes, then headed after Devon. To my shock—and irritation—the thud of footsteps against the linoleum floor told me Miller was following. Why, I wasn’t sure. Rowan, probably. It was nice to have him care about something, but I was pretty sure his concern only stemmed from his desire to get in her pants. Not that it was ever going to happen. Even if she and Devon hadn’t started something, no one in their right mind would be interested in a weasel like Miller.
Devon slowed when he reached the cafeteria, glancing inside for a moment before turning to face me. “I can handle Buck if you want to check on the kids.”
“I do,” I said, already focusing on them.
Lexi was curled up against Randall, her face pressed against her uncle’s chest like she was crying, while Mike sat beside her, patting her back. The kid was only ten years old—and small for his age—and he carried way too much of the responsibility for his little sister and mentally handicapped uncle. It wasn’t fair, and it was something I was trying to fix by being there for them when I could and encouraging Zara to st
ep in when I wasn’t around. She was more timid than I was, though, and I wasn’t sure she was comfortable in the role of caretaker. She’d never had to be one before, not even her own. I’d always been grateful my sister had found her way into a more stable foster care situation than my own, living with people who’d actually cared for her and didn’t just see her as a source of income, but now I found myself wishing she’d had to take on a little more responsibility in her life. It would have toughened her up and maybe prepared her better for the world we were facing. Or maybe not. Maybe nothing could have prepared some people.
I looked back at Devon, ignoring Miller when he stopped at my side. “I’ll go up to the room after I check on things.”
Devon gave a nod as he took a step back, his gaze flitting briefly to Miller before he turned away. He was shaking his head when he walked off.
“I want to help get Rowan back,” Miller said when we were alone.
I turned, eyes narrowed as I studied him, but said nothing.
The corporal let out a frustrated sigh. “Look, I know I can be an asshole, but I’m genuinely concerned. I want to help.”
“Why now?” I asked. “You haven’t exactly been helpful over the last few days. In fact, one could argue that you’ve been the opposite.”
“I’m trying to turn over a new leaf.” He shrugged but sighed again when my frown deepened. “I like Rowan, okay?”
“I think we all know exactly what you like about Rowan.”
Miller scowled like a child. “Whatever. I’m offering to help. From what I’ve seen, I seriously doubt Gabe and his men will rush to lend a hand.”
“They’re helping whether they like it or not.” I waved toward the cafeteria, letting him know I was done talking about it. “Now I need to check on the kids.”
To my relief, Miller didn’t follow.
He’d seemed sincere about wanting to help, but I wasn’t ready to trust the guy just yet. He’d been a major thorn in all our sides since joining our group, and my experience with the world told me most people didn’t change. At least not for the better. Plus, we still had a lot of questions about who Miller actually was. He claimed to be a soldier, but he didn’t have a military haircut, and he didn’t act like anyone who’d had any real training. Even when he did remember to pull his gun and shoot, his aim was shit. Something about the situation just didn’t add up—despite the dog tag Rowan had found.
Mike watched me cross the room, his brown eyes serious and intense, making him look much older than his young age. Lexi still hadn’t lifted her head, and now that I was closer, I could see the tremble of her shoulders and hear her quiet sniffles. Her uncle, too, seemed to be on the verge of breaking down when I stopped in front of them.
“Is Rowan going to be okay, Kiaya?” the big man asked.
In complete contrast with his nephew, Randall’s round face and eyes portrayed an innocence that contradicted the more than three decades he’d been on this Earth, making him seem vulnerable to the point where I couldn’t help but want to do everything in my power to protect him.
“Yes,” I said, my voice firm but gentle at the same time. “We’re going to make sure of that.”
Lexi lifted her head, sniffing, and turned her tear-streaked face toward me. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her nose was a snotty mess—as was Randall’s shirt.
“Everything is going to be okay,” I said. “I promise.”
I felt like an asshole for telling her that, because I didn’t have much control over how things turned out, but if there was one positive thing I remembered from my uncertain childhood, it was the utter relief I’d always felt when an adult took the time to reassure me. Their words hadn’t always turned out to be true, but the knowledge that there were people who actually wanted to make me feel better had been enough to comfort me.
Lexi sniffed again, this time taking a moment to wipe her nose on her sleeve, then she nodded.
With the girl comforted, I turned my attention to Zara. “Lisa and I are going to be leaving in a bit. You can watch out for the kids?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” I turned my attention to Hank, not sure what to say but feeling like I needed to address him if for no other reason than to try to get a better feel for who he was. “Everything okay with you, Hank?”
His dark, shaggy hair flopped across his forehead when he nodded, but he said nothing.
“How’s that bite? Have you had Lisa check it out recently?”
The bandage on his arm, just below his elbow where a zombie had bitten him, looked a little dirty and probably needed changing. Less than two weeks had passed since it happened, more than enough time for the injury to have started to heal if it hadn’t gotten infected, but only nine days had gone by since he’d started the antibiotics. Lisa had put him on a fourteen-day dose. Thank God for the drugs Miller had taken from Shamrock.
“She mentioned it yesterday, but I told her it wasn’t a big deal.” The kid shrugged.
“It is,” I said. “If you get an infection, it could kill you. I’ll remind her, and when she brings it up again, just humor us. Okay?”
Again, he shrugged, but he nodded, too, giving the impression he was planning to listen. That was something, and it made him seem more normal in my eyes because it was a typical teenage boy response. Not that I wasn’t planning to continue keeping tabs on him.
“Anyone need anything else before I go?” I looked from Zara to Mike to Lexi to Randall, but they were all shaking their heads. “Okay. We won’t be gone long, just a couple hours.”
With that done, I left the cafeteria and headed to the other side of the building, traveling through the newer halls, passing the front door and then the courtyard that held the port-o-potties, before finally reaching what had been the original school. Rowan had told us it was almost a hundred years old, and it showed. The dark wood banisters and railings were worn from thousands of little hands running over them, and the marble stairs were cracked in places, dipping where they, too, had been worn down over time. It wasn’t a bad place to set up camp, though, even if Gabe and his men had been too shortsighted to realize they needed an escape route on this side of the building—something I hoped they would soon be fixing if they hadn’t already.
I had to climb three sets of stairs to reach the room that had been set up for our group. The windows throughout the school had been covered with the exception of a few that were too high to be dangerous, and sunlight illuminated the space when I stepped into the room. The desks had been removed before we got here, and the area partitioned using the kind of dividers you saw in office buildings, creating little cubicles so everyone had their own space. Not that everyone wanted it. Zara had moved a cot into my cubicle so she didn’t have to be alone, and we’d set up a king size air mattress so Randall, Lexi, and Mike could sleep together. In another cubicle, Devon and Rowan had done the same thing.
Pain pulsed through me at the sudden thought of him sleeping by himself tonight. I was a logical person, rarely driven by my emotions, but not knowing what was happening with Rowan and if we’d actually be able to get her out had me feeling like I was teetering on the edge. Which was rare for me.
Lisa and Devon stood outside the cubicle Buck had claimed as his own, and they both turned at the sound of my approaching steps. Devon’s face was a mask of irritation, while Lisa’s was twisted in concern, telling me we’d been right to be worried about Buck.
“What is it?” I asked even though it was obvious.
Devon indicated the cubicle at his side. “See for yourself.”
I peeked in, knowing what I was going to see but swearing anyway. Buck was out cold, his long, gray hair fanned out around his head and an empty bottle cradled in his arms.
I’d liked the sixtyish man from the moment we met him, and while that hadn’t changed, we’d realized he had a problem shortly after arriving at Rowan’s house. Morning, noon, or, night, it hadn’t mattered, Buck had a drink in front of him. He and Devon had talked about it
, though, and Buck had insisted it wouldn’t be an issue. He’d sworn he had the drinking under control. I’d wanted to believe him, but I’d been around addicts enough to know their promises were typically empty. Addiction was a selfish thing, leaving little room for logic or other people.
“Do we know how long he’s been like this?” I looked from Lisa to Devon.
“We were gone, so nope.” Devon shook his head. “He promised the drinking wouldn’t be a problem.”
“That’s the problem with addicts,” I said. “They don’t have any real control over their demons, which means their promises mean shit.” I blew out a long breath, staring at Buck as I thought it through. “No one in Gabe’s group knows about this, and they’re distracted right now, so I say we let him sleep it off and try to have another conversation with him once he’s awake and lucid. He needs to understand that if he’s out cold like this and we get attacked, his drunk ass won’t be a priority.”
“Will he even care?” Lisa looked from me to Devon. “I mean, as far as I can tell, he’s been trying to kill himself for years. Maybe that’s what he wants.”
“It’s possible,” Devon said then exhaled.
He ran his hand down his face like he’d done in the command center, and the gesture, combined with the worry in his eyes, made him look wiped. We’d only been in Ohio for five days, and as far as I knew, he’d gotten very little sleep since arriving here. Even back when we were on the road, I wasn’t sure he’d rested much. He’d driven the whole night before we got here, then he’d been on lookout at the Western Motel, and before that he’d had to watch his friends slowly die one by one. A couple weeks had probably gone by since he’d gotten any real rest, and it was going to catch up with him if he wasn’t careful. Not that I thought he’d take a nap even if I suggested it.
“We’re going to head out soon,” I told Devon. “What are you going to do while we’re gone?”
“Make sure Gabe gets that map done.”
“Have him work on clearing one of the doors on this side of the building, too,” I said. “I was thinking we could secure it with a bike lock or something, one that has a combination. It would be faster than a key, assuming everyone can remember a few digits.”
Far Series | Book 3 | Far From Lost Page 7
