“It was just the three of you on the road?” Dad asked as he, too, grabbed a cup so he could fill it with coffee.
“No.” I stood waiting, the tray clutched in my hands and my stomach rumbling with need. “There were others. Lisa, who’s from Atlanta. Buck, who lived in Texas his whole life. A guy named Randall and his niece and nephew. A few others, too. They all came back here with me.”
Dad turned but didn’t focus on me, and I told myself it was because he was looking for a place to sit. It was a difficult thing to believe since most of the tables were empty at this point.
“Diverse group,” he said as we walked to a table.
“It really is,” I agreed, not sure what else to say.
I set my tray on the table when we reached it then slid onto a chair. Dad took the seat across from mine, giving me the chance to study him more closely. He looked the same, but so different as well. Someone who didn’t know him that well, though, might only notice the extra wrinkles, but not me. To me, the most drastic change was his eyes. There was no light in them. Not the way there used to be. They used to twinkle like he was holding back a smile, but now they just looked flat.
“How are you doing?” I asked as I poured the cream and sugar into my coffee, trying to keep my tone casual. My hand was trembling with emotion.
“It’s been a tough adjustment.” He’d turned his focus to his food. “I really hoped your mom would be okay if she just stayed home. I was being naïve, though. I should have known nothing could stop this thing.”
The utter despair in his tone caused a lump to rise in my throat, and I had to swallow it before I said, “I know. It’s been hard.”
Dad’s gaze was still on his plate as he pushed his food around. I was starving, but I still watched him as I scooped up a forkful of eggs. I wasn’t sure if they were real or fake, but I also didn’t care. I had toast, too, and sausage patties, making the breakfast feel almost like a feast to me. We didn’t have electricity at the school, meaning we were reduced to cooking on grills and camping stoves. Not an easy feat considering how many mouths we had to feed.
I shoveled the food in but didn’t miss that Dad only took a few small bites. He was wearing an oversized sweatshirt, so it was difficult to tell, but I thought he might have lost weight. It could have been the two days he’d spent locked in that room with no food, but there was also a good chance he wasn’t eating. Didn’t depression cause a lack of appetite?
The silence stretched out between us much longer than I liked, and I found myself looking around, studying the few people left in the room and thinking about the place. Between the generator and cafeteria, the hospital was a goldmine when it came to setting up a safe haven. Much better than what we had at the school, that was for sure.
“This is a great setup,” I said, unable to stay quiet. As usual. “I wish my friends could come here.”
“They can.” Dad looked up from his tray—the food still mostly untouched—but the dull expression in his eyes almost made me wish he hadn’t. “The more people we have, the better off we’ll be.”
“I doubt Heath will let that happen.”
“Why do you think that?”
“There’s some bad blood between Heath and one of the guys in my group, Gabe. Not to mention the fact that Heath’s ex-wife is there.”
“Oh, that does complicate things.” Dad took a small bite of eggs, chewing slower than necessary—almost like he’d forgotten how to eat—and once he’d swallowed, said, “You’re lucky you’re with us now. From what I hear, this Gabe guy is bad news.”
I put my fork down, my food forgotten. “Gabe isn’t the one who stole animals at gunpoint. That was Heath.”
Dad set his fork down as well, his expression growing serious. Hard. Stern, almost. “Heath was only taking back what was his to begin with. He rounded up most of those animals himself before Gabe kicked him out of the group. He would have taken them earlier, but he needed help.”
“I don’t know anything about that.” I shook my head, confused and uncertain about who to trust and how to talk to the man in front of me. “I just know what I saw. We were there minding our own business when Heath and his people drove up armed and ready to shoot anyone who got in their way. He put a gun to my head, Dad. He threatened to cut my fingers off if my people didn’t leave.”
Dad’s frown deepened, exaggerating the lines at the corners of him mouth, but there was no concern in his expression. No alarm at the thought that someone had put a gun to his only daughter’s head.
“Heath told me you begged him to bring you back here.”
That was something I couldn’t really deny. “That’s true.”
Dad was quiet for a second, staring at me as he thought it through, his expression as uncertain as the unease gnawing at my insides. “Then why would he put a gun to your head?”
I blinked, not sure if I was hearing him right. “Are you saying you don’t believe me?”
“No, of course that’s not what I’m saying.” Dad reached across the table and covered my hand with his, but the gesture was too automatic and practiced to be comforting. Maybe he was a cyborg. “I’m only pointing out that he must have felt like things were going to get violent if he didn’t take drastic steps. It doesn’t mean he would have actually done anything to you. Sometimes, the threat of violence is all you really need to get your way.”
It was like I’d been sucked into an alternate reality, because in the world I’d grown up in, my dad never would have justified even the threat of violence. Especially when it came to his own child. The pain and disappointment at what I was hearing caused tears to well up in my eyes, and I had to blink them away. I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t. I could control it.
When I said nothing, Dad gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re not hurt, Rowan, and I can say with all the confidence in the world that I do not believe for even a second that Heath would have done anything to you. If they’d called his bluff, he would have backed down. Trust me.”
I wasn’t sure if I could.
“So, it doesn’t bother you that he had a gun to my head?” The words were only a whisper.
I’d been so excited to see my dad, but things weren’t going how I’d expected, and the things he was saying didn’t sound anything like him. He didn’t even like guns, yet he was justifying Heath putting one to his daughter’s head. Had the world really turned so sideways?
“Rowan,” he said, “calm down. Of course, I don’t like it, but I’m telling you, Heath wouldn’t have hurt you.”
Maybe Dad was right; I didn’t know for sure. I also didn’t care. Whether Heath would have actually hurt me was minor at this point, because there were other people he very much wanted to hurt. People he wanted to murder.
“He told me wants to kill Gabe.”
“It’s a different world now, Rowan.” Dad’s expression changed. Hardening. “We don’t have cops and prisons anymore.”
My mouth dropped open, and it took a second for me to recover from my shock so I could say, “You’re telling me murder is okay?”
“I’m saying things have changed. This world is dangerous, and we can’t react to it the same way we did the old one. There are going to be times when we have to take drastic measures.”
He moved his hand from mine and sat back, watching me as if waiting for a response. I said nothing—there was honestly nothing to say—so he grabbed his fork and went back to picking at his food. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was giving me time to think about his words. He’d done the same thing dozens of times throughout my life. Typically, it was a lecture on doing what was right, though. Now, however, he was trying to justify killing another human being, and there was no way I’d ever be able to wrap my brain around that.
Even though my stomach now felt like it was full of rocks, I picked my fork up and started eating as well. No appetite didn’t mean you could skip a meal. In the apocalypse, every calorie counted.
Dad and I didn’t speak again until we’d
finished our breakfast and were carrying our trays over to be cleaned. “I’m sorry our reunion wasn’t better.”
“Me too.” My voice was stiff and cold.
Dad sighed and set his tray on top of the other dirty ones, and I did the same.
He was frowning when I turned to him.
“Don’t be mad, Rowan. I’m sorry, but a lot has happened in such a short time, and it’s changed me in ways I never could have predicted.”
“I can tell,” I replied.
Dad’s gaze held mine, his expression serious but devoid of any real emotion. He looked like a stranger, and the realization caused a lump of emotion to form in my throat. I wanted to run and hide, or better yet, to go back in time to when Heath and his people showed up at the farm so I could make a different decision. I should have kept my damn my mouth shut. If I had, I would be at the school now, safe and sound and with people I trusted.
Something at of the corner of my vision moved, and I shifted my focus, relieved to find Ryan waiting by the door.
Dad followed my gaze. “He’s kind of like your knight in shining armor.”
There was a note of teasing in his voice, but it was flat. Forced and fake. It only added to my confusion. I was hurt and uncertain about what would happen next, but most of all, I was sad. Sad that the world had changed so much, but even sadder that it had twisted my father in the process.
I focused on my dad when I said, “I don’t need a knight in shining armor.”
“What’s wrong with having a hero?” Dad’s mouth turned up, but what was supposed to be a smile looked more like a grimace.
“I used to have one. I wish I knew what happened to him.” I blinked back the tears fighting to get out. “I’ll see you later.”
My dad’s smile faded just before I turned away from him, but I didn’t look back before crossing the cafeteria where Ryan stood waiting.
9
Kiaya
When I’d climbed into bed the night before, I hadn’t thought I’d be able to get my brain to shut off enough to get any real rest, which was why I was shocked to open my eyes and find light streaming in through the windows. I’d slept the whole night through without waking up once or having any dreams—a huge feat in this world—and I was surprisingly rested. Considering I had no idea what I was about to face, I was more than thankful.
Shifting onto my side, I looked across the small space separating my cot from my sister’s. She was facing me, her eyes still closed and her expression serene. It wasn’t the first time I’d considered what I was risking, but it was the first time I really, truly considered making a different decision. I’d traveled the country to find Zara, had sworn I’d look out for her, but now I was about to leave her behind, and it felt contrary to what I should have been doing as her big sister.
I closed my eyes and exhaled, blowing out the worry and tension and refocusing my thoughts on why I was about to do this crazy thing. Rowan. She was my friend. She’d given me a ride when she didn’t have to, had taken me to see my sister when she could have said no, and she offered us a place when we’d had nowhere to go. Yes, she was in this position because of her own actions, but that didn’t mean I could walk away when I might be able to do something to help her.
Then there was Lane. I didn’t know her very well, but she’d gotten hurt helping me, and that meant I owed her. Plus, this was literally her only chance at survival. If she didn’t get surgery, she was going to die. There was no doubt about it.
With my certainty restored, I opened my eyes and let out one more deep breath, then I rolled out of bed. It was time to get ready to leave.
Except for the occasional snore from Randall and the heavy breathing of my other companions, the room was quiet when I swiped my duffle bag up off the floor. I tiptoed from the cubicle, wanting to give Zara a little more time to sleep, and headed through the room, glancing into each little sleeping space as I passed. Miller must have already gotten up, and Lisa’s cot was empty as well since she’d stayed in the nurse’s station with Lane, but Hank was still out cold. Buck, too, was still out, although after all the sleep he’d gotten the day before, I didn’t know how, and Randall and the kids were curled up together and looking peaceful when I passed.
It wasn’t until I reached Devon’s cubicle that I paused. He was awake, his hands laced behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling.
“You get any rest?” I asked, keeping my voice low both so I didn’t scare him and so I didn’t wake anyone unnecessarily.
His blue eyes focused on me. “Some. Not a lot.”
“There’s a lot going on,” I said even though I’d managed to get a good night’s rest.
“Yeah.” He exhaled then shifted so he was sitting, running his hand down his face the way he so often did when he was tired. “I’m worried about her. I don’t like not knowing what’s going on.”
“Hopefully, if everything goes as planned, you only have to wait a few more hours to talk to her.”
He looked at me again. “And if it doesn’t go as planned? What do we do if you don’t come back, but Heath doesn’t contact us either?”
I was silent for a moment, trying to decide what to say. It was something I’d thought about many times, but something I hadn’t brought up because I didn’t want to have to face the decision I’d come to. It was the only thing that made sense, but I knew what it would mean. For all of us.
“I think,” I said slowly, “you might have to consider letting it go.”
Devon stiffened. “What?”
“Look,” I moved into his cubicle so I could take a seat next to him, and the air mattress groaned, “I know it won’t be an easy decision, but you have to make sure you look at the big picture. If we leave but don’t come back, it’s a good indication that Heath isn’t willing to negotiate. Which means every time you try to make contact with him, you’re risking the lives of everyone here.”
“So, your suggestion is to just walk away and never look back? To just assume you’re lost?”
“My suggestion is to think about what you’re risking.” I paused, giving him time to absorb that. “The kids, Devon. You have to promise you’ll think about the kids.”
His brows pulled together, and a second later his head bobbed, and although the expression in his eyes told me he still wasn’t totally convinced, I could tell I’d gotten through to him at least a little. Thankfully, Devon wasn’t prone to acting based on emotions.
“Okay.” I patted his leg and stood. “I need to brush my teeth and get ready for the day so I can wake Zara and the kids. I want to make sure I get a chance to tell them goodbye.”
“Yeah,” Devon said, still nodding, but he didn’t look at me.
I left him to think things through, heading into the hall and to the bathroom. Jugs of water sat beside each sink, allowing us to brush our teeth and take care of personal hygiene, but it wasn’t enough by a long shot. We needed a better system, which was another thing I would bring up to Gabe when all this Rowan business was finally settled. A week and a half had passed since my last shower—back at the motel in Texola—and while I’d done my best to keep clean using disposable wipes, it wouldn’t work forever. We needed showers, or at the very least a way to give ourselves the occasional sponge bath.
Once I’d cleaned myself up, then returned to the room. My duffle bag bounced against my hip as I walked like it was trying to remind me what I was about to do, and it seemed to increase in weight with each step. Worry was gnawing at my insides like a rat enjoying someone’s discarded food, but I pushed my feelings down and worked to keep my expression neutral. The last thing I wanted to do was let Zara—or Lexi—know how worried I was.
Back in the room, people had started moving around. Devon’s cubicle was empty, but Buck was still in his, sitting on the edge of his cot as he raked his fingers through his long, gray hair, working it into a ponytail at the back of his neck. He turned his bloodshot eyes my way when I paused at the opening, a smile peeking through his scraggily be
ard despite our tense conversation from the day before. Although maybe he’d been too drunk to remember it.
“Mornin’,” he said, dipping his head once.
“Good morning.” I paused, waited, and when he stayed silent said, “How are you feeling?”
“Like a damn fool.” He got to his feet, his long hair now secured, and let out a deep sigh. “I made a promise to the lot of you, and I broke it yesterday. Can’t say I’ve never done it before. I’m a drunk and that’s pretty much what we do, but I can say I’m sorry. And I am. Truly.”
“We like you, Buck, but we can’t feel like we’re carrying the weight of your life on our shoulders. Not when there are kids who actually need caring for.”
“I get it. I do.” He paused. “And I wanna thank you for openin’ up to me. I know how difficult that’s gotta be. From here on out, I’m gonna do my part. I promise.”
“I hope so,” I said, choosing to ignore his comment about me opening up. It wasn’t just hard, it was damn near impossible most of the time, and I wasn’t ready to revisit it right now.
Movement behind me made me turn, and I smiled at the sight of a very sleepy looking Lexi.
“Morning,” I said, kneeling in front of her. “Are you ready for some breakfast?”
“Can we have pancakes?”
My smile widened. “I don’t know what the nice ladies are making, but whatever it is, I’m sure it will be delicious.”
Lexi’s mouth turned down, disappointment flashing in her eyes. “Oh.”
“It’s going to be okay, Lexi,” Mike said, stepping from the cubicle where his uncle still slept. “You always like what they make.”
“Yeah,” the little girl replied, but her tone said she wasn’t convinced.
“I’m going to wake Zara,” I said, standing, “then we can all go down together. Okay?”
Lexi nodded, but Mike turned back to the cubicle. “I’ll wake up Uncle Randall.”
Far Series | Book 3 | Far From Lost Page 17
