Far Series | Book 3 | Far From Lost

by Mary, Kate L.

  His expression was pained, and I put my hand on his knee. “She’ll be okay.”

  “She better be.”

  I gave his leg a pat.

  We drove back a different way, meaning we didn’t have to pass the mangled truck, and made it to the school in no time. Once there, Max and Ari got to work opening the gate, and faster than I thought possible, Doug was pulling to a stop in the parking lot.

  “Everyone okay?” Max called when we’d climbed out.

  “Get the door for me, will you?” Gabe said in response.

  He’d already climbed from the bed of the truck and was helping Lane down. Every move seemed like agony, and even once Gabe had scooped her into his arms, her pained expression didn’t ease.

  “Shit,” Max said, watching Gabe carry her inside, the door propped open at his back. “Is she okay?”

  “Don’t know yet,” Gabe replied.

  He stopped not too far into the school, beside a door with Nurse printed across it, and somehow managed to get it open despite having Lane in his arms. Inside, he laid her out on a small, stiff bed and took a step back.

  “Give me some space,” Lisa said, pushing her way through, “and get some lights in here.”

  “I’m on it,” Doug said, charging from the room.

  Lisa lifted Lane’s shirt, revealing her swollen, bruised abdomen, and I turned away. I could handle blood and I wasn’t squeamish, but I wanted to check on my sister.

  “I’m going to find Zara,” I told Devon. “Let me know what happens.”

  He nodded, his gaze on Lane as I headed out.

  I stopped in the hall, looking first left and then right as I tried to decide what to do. The sleeping area was to the left, but it had to be getting close to dinnertime, so odds were good Zara and the kids would be in the cafeteria. Turning right, I once again found myself considering what would happen if Lane showed up at the hospital. Would Heath really turn her away? They’d split up, but he’d loved her once or they wouldn’t have gotten married, and I couldn’t imagine he hated her so much he’d turn his back on her. No one was that callous, right?

  It was impossible to say for sure, but if someone else went with Lane and could somehow convince Heath to let them in, it would give us the chance to establish contact, get a look around, and possibly even figure out what drove Heath so we could work on an exchange. Who knew? Maybe we’d even get some insight into the other group’s weaknesses.

  I was still thinking all this over when I reached the cafeteria, stopping in the doorway. Voices floated from the kitchen where the women were preparing dinner, and all the kids were present. Like before, they were sitting at one of the tables, only this time instead of having a puzzle spread out in front of them, there was a board game of some kind. Lexi was coloring, while at her side Randall was once again flipping through Hank’s comic book, but everyone else seemed to be absorbed in the game. Everyone except Hank, of course. He was too busy staring at Zara.

  My unease returned full force as I watched him. His face was expressionless, his eyes taking in her every move like he was trying to memorize it. I thought back to the day he’d walked in on me changing. He’d said all the right things, apologized and told me he’d thought he was opening the door to the guest room, but the expression in his eyes hadn’t changed. He hadn’t blinked or looked repentant. He’d just stared.

  Back then, I hadn’t been able to stop myself from wondering if he was on the spectrum. I’d had a foster brother years ago who’d had Asperger’s, and he’d had a difficult time showing empathy for others. Now that I’d been around Hank a little more, though, I didn’t think he fit the profile. For one, he had no problem making eye contact, which was typically a big clue when it came to a diagnosis. Hank loved making eye contact. Loved staring until you felt like he was trying to look into your soul.

  As if sensing me standing there, Zara lifted her head, and I stiffened. I hadn’t asked Devon what he told my sister—I’d been too focused on Lane—and I wasn’t sure how Zara was going to react to learning I’d been held at gunpoint.

  Zara lifted her hand as if to wave, but froze with it half raised, tilting her head as she studied me. After a second, she said something to the girl at her side—a pixie-like child who had to be around eight years old—and got to her feet, crossed to me.

  “What happened?” Zara asked when she stopped in front of me, concern shimmering in her big, brown eyes.

  So, Devon hadn’t told her.

  “We had a little car accident,” I said in a neutral tone. “It’s no big deal.”

  Zara’s gaze swept over me, going from the cut on my forehead to the ones on my palms and finally stopping on my bloody knees. “You should get those looked at.”

  “I will,” I assured her. “Lisa’s taking care of Lane right now. She got a little more banged up than I did.”

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged as if it was no big deal, not wanting to scare Zara. “At least I hope so. Nothing is certain now, I guess.”

  My sister pressed her lips together, her gaze sweeping over me again. “You want me to help you?”

  “No. It’s okay.” I waved toward the table of children, trying to ignore the way Hank was watching us. “Devon can do it if Lisa is still busy. I just wanted to let you know I was back and okay.”

  “All right.” Zara took a step backward. “See you at dinner?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  My sister turned and headed back, and after a second, I did the same, reaching the nurse’s office to find Devon standing beside the door.

  “You didn’t tell Zara about the ransom?”

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to.”

  “I don’t know.” I glanced into the room where Lisa was cleaning the various cuts on Lane’s body—everyone else had wandered off, it seemed. “Maybe it’s better she doesn’t know, or maybe I’ll tell her now that I’m back and okay.”

  “It’s up to you,” he replied then said, “You want me to take a look at your knees?”

  “Might as well.” I focused on him. “Looks like Lisa’s a little occupied.”

  “Yeah. It doesn’t look good. I don’t know if Lane’s going to pull through if she doesn’t see a doctor.”

  “I already gave my opinion on that,” I said. “Gabe might not love the idea, but it might be the only choice we have, and I don’t have a problem standing up to him.”

  “I’m sure you don’t.” Devon’s lips twitched as he headed into the room, nodding for me to follow. “Come on.”

  Inside, I undid my pants and pulled them down, then took a seat on a nearby chair. I could have left them on, but it was just easier to remove them completely and it wasn’t like I thought Devon was interested.

  Not even hesitating, he took a seat in front of me, pulling a lantern closer as he narrowed his eyes on my knees. “Yeah, I definitely think you have a couple shards in there.”

  “I can feel them.”

  “Sounds unpleasant.”

  He grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a cotton swab from the nearby table, then got busy cleaning the cuts. The liquid was cold, contrasting with the sting, and despite Devon’s gentle touch, I couldn’t hold in a wince of pain.

  “Sorry,” he said but didn’t look up

  “It’s fine. I’m tough.”

  “I know,” he replied, admiration in his tone.

  Once he’d cleaned the cuts, Devon grabbed a pair of tweezers and lifted his gaze to mine. “This is going to be the part that hurts.”

  I curled my hands into fists. “Let’s get it over with.”

  “I’ll make it fast if you promise not to tell Rowan you took your clothes off in front of me.”

  “Just my pants,” I said, unable to stop from rolling my eyes.

  He gave me a wink. “Doesn’t matter. You still have to promise.”

  “I promise.” I gave him a sigh that was part exasperation and part sarcasm. “Now get the glass out of my kn
ees so I can go change before dinner.”

  “Bossy,” Devon said, but he was already focused on the job at hand.

  I dug my nails into my palms as he got to work, having to bite back a few cries of pain while at the same time blinking away tears. It hurt like crazy, but the ensuing infection if I didn’t get the shards removed would be worse.

  The first shard was small, barely making a sound when Devon dropped it onto the nearby table, but the next was bigger. He removed three more from my right knee before moving onto my left and finally declaring he was done with that part of my torture.

  “Now let me see your hands.”

  I held them out, palm up. I’d cut myself a little when I fell from my seat, but it was minor and didn’t require more than a couple dabs of alcohol. With that done, Devon turned his focus to my head. The cut on my right temple was less than an inch big and not deep, but he did his part and made sure it was clean before sitting back.

  “You look good.”

  “You’re only saying that because my pants are off.”

  He belted out a laugh but shook his head. “What was the deal with those kids?”

  “I don’t know.” I grabbed my filthy pants off the floor so I could put them back on since I couldn’t walk through the school in my underwear. “Little psychopaths. It was creepy.”

  “The kid in charge was young.”

  “He said he was sixteen, but he didn’t look it. He also told me he was the one who started the fire.”

  Devon lifted his brows in surprise. “I’ve come across kids like that on the job. Delinquents who don’t have an ounce of empathy in them and can’t feel remorse. But that was a big group.”

  I stood so I could pull my pants up, zipping them as I said, “You only need a couple really bad guys in a situation like this. The rest are followers. They’ll do whatever they’re told if it means survival, and with no law, it isn’t going to be long before the lines between right and wrong have blurred to nothing.”

  “I have a feeling they already have.”

  “I’d say that’s a good guess.”

  “Do you think these kids are going to be an issue?”

  “The leader said they were planning to go south. Go where it’s warmer. Set up on a beach. Hopefully, they follow through with that plan and this is the last we hear of them.”

  “You think we’ll get that lucky?”

  I exhaled, suddenly exhausted. “If I were basing my answer on my experience with life so far, I’d say no. I’ve never had much luck, and I don’t see how a zombie apocalypse is going to change that. If anything, it’s likely to get worse.”

  “If anyone deserves a break, Kiaya, it’s you.”

  “We rarely get what we deserve,” I said.

  “True, but I hope you do.”

  “I hope you do, too,” I replied.

  We stood in silence for a moment staring at one another, then I shook my head. “I should change before dinner. These pants are obviously garbage.”

  “I’ll see you in the cafeteria. We can discuss this plan of yours.”

  “It’s a date,” I said, then headed out.

  Buck was awake when I reached our room, lying on the bed in his cubicle, a guilty expression in his gray eyes despite the fact that they were slightly unfocused.

  “Looks like I missed more fun,” he said, pushing himself up.

  An empty bottle fell from the cot and clattered to the floor, and Buck winced.

  “You heard about Rowan, then?” I asked.

  “Woke up to find Miller starin’ at me and got an earful.”

  Miller? That was a surprise, or maybe it wasn’t. He said he was concerned, plus he’d been pretty pissed about Buck’s drinking.

  The older man frowned as he scratched his scraggily beard, squinting at me. “What happened to you?”

  “An accident.” I waved my hand as if pushing the question away. There were things that needed to be said that had nothing to do with the accident or group of delinquents. “Look, Buck, we need to know that you’re not going to be a liability. We have enough to worry about, and it isn’t fair.”

  Footsteps scraped against the floor behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to find Miller walking our way.

  “I already talked to him about this,” the corporal said. “Not that I think it will make much of a difference.”

  I turned back to Buck when he snorted. He was shaking his head, irritation in every line of his body, his gaze on the floor. His expression closed off. He’d been open to talking about his drinking back at Rowan’s house, but that was when he wasn’t drunk off his ass. Now that he was inebriated, he looked pissed off at the intrusion. Well, he wasn’t going to get off that easily.

  I just wished Miller didn’t have to be here.

  “I’m going to say something, and you’re going to listen,” I began, my body already stiffening as the walls I’d built around myself tried to go up. I forced them to stay down. For once. “This isn’t something I usually tell people, but I’m going to tell you because you need to hear it. You can choose what to do with the information. I get that what you’re going through is a disease and not easy to control. Believe me.”

  Miller grunted his displeasure, but I ignored him.

  “I know all about it because I grew up with a junkie for a mom. She didn’t care what happened to Zara and me as long as she got her next fix, and she pretty much left us to fend for ourselves. We went through a lot of shit because of her, a lot of uncertainty, and that isn’t something I’m going to expose either myself or my sister to ever again. You want to get drunk every day and block out the world? Go for it. Just know one thing. We will not give up our lives to save you. I won’t risk it. Do you understand?”

  Buck was still looking down, but his expression had changed. His mouth had tightened, his frown deepening, and his body seemed to slump in on itself. “Yeah,” he whispered.

  “Good.” I took a step back. “This is the last time I’ll discuss it. There are too many other things to worry about.”

  All I got in response to that was a slight nod.

  I turned away from him and came face to face with Miller. He was staring at me, an odd expression on his face, almost like he was seeing me for the first time.

  “I’m sorry you went through that,” he said.

  Like in the van with Jace, I recognized the expression on Miller’s face, because I’d worn a similar one at times in the past. He was a victim. Of what, I wasn’t sure, but there was no doubt in my mind that Miller was carrying some kind of pain. It probably had a lot to do with why he was such an asshole.

  “Thanks.” I waited, wondering if he was going to say anything else. When he didn’t, I nodded to my cubicle. “I need to change so I can get down to dinner. We have some things to discuss.”

  “Okay.” Miller took a step back, hesitated, then said, “Do you mind if I walk with you?”

  “Sure,” I replied.

  He waited for me by the door while I pulled on a clean pair of jeans. On the way out, I peeked into Buck’s cubicle. His eyes were open, but he was staring at the ceiling and didn’t look my way. Hopefully, he was thinking things through.

  I waited for Miller to tell me what was on his mind as we walked through the school to the cafeteria, but he didn’t say a word. Eventually, he would, though. I was sure of it.

  The room was packed by the time we made it to the cafeteria, the rise and fall of voices nonstop as people chatted. Miller and I paused in the doorway long enough to scan the room and spotting the rest of our group sitting together, headed that way.

  Max smiled when I passed, and I responded with a nod. His grin, which seemed permanently etched on his face, faltered a little, but I was too distracted to worry about his hurt ego. He was a nice enough guy. Lisa and I had spent some time talking to him the day we staked out the school, and I’d found him pleasant. Friendly with none of the red flags I’d gotten from Gabe. Max had taken an instant liking to me, and I’d be lying if I said
I didn’t find him attractive. He was. Very. Dark skin and thick, black hair, and brown eyes that lit up when he smiled. The problem was me. I’d never had much time for dating—my priorities had always been elsewhere—and the zombie apocalypse wasn’t about to change that. There were too many other things to focus on and worry about.

  Devon gave me a confused look when he saw Miller at my side, but I just shrugged.

  “How’s Lane doing?” I asked Lisa when we stopped next to the table.

  She lifted her gaze to meet mine, her mouth turned down. “About as good as can be expected considering she’s most likely bleeding internally.”

  I blew out a long breath, once again going over the plan in my head. It was risky, there was no doubt about it, but I was starting to think it might be the only chance we had—and definitely the only chance Lane had.

  “You’re thinking about going to the hospital?” Devon asked after a moment of silence.

  “I need to talk to Lane about it, of course, but at this point, I don’t think we have much of a choice.” I drummed my nails on the table—a nervous habit—and said, “One of us has to take her. If we don’t, she’s dead.”

  “What makes you think Heath will let her in?” Devon asked.

  “He didn’t want to be in the same group with her, but she’s still his ex-wife, so odds are good he won’t let her die,” I said, my even tone not giving away the uncertainty swirling through me. “That’s the hope, anyway. I don’t know for sure, which is why I need to talk to Lane, but if we can get inside, we’ll have a better idea how to get Rowan back. We’ll be able to see any weaknesses the other group has, possibly even sneak someone else in. It could give us an advantage on top of getting Lane the medical care she needs.”

  “It’s worth a shot,” Lisa said, looking from me to Devon. “If it doesn’t work, we haven’t lost anything.”

  Devon’s mouth pulled down, exaggerating his frown. “I’m assuming you want to go?”

  “I don’t want to,” I said, “but I think another female would seem like less of a threat. Gabe and his friends can’t go, and even though Heath doesn’t know you or Doug, I seriously doubt he’d respond well if either one of you showed up with Lane.” A loose curl tickled my face when I shook my head, and I swatted it back. “He’s much more likely to see a threat and open fire. If I drive up with Lane, though, he might be willing to listen even if he doesn’t help her.”