Far Series | Book 3 | Far From Lost

by Mary, Kate L.

  I shifted, making myself more comfortable by pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. “It’s hard figuring out who you are in this world.”

  “It’s hard figuring out who you are in any world,” he said, still staring at the ceiling. “In this one it’s about damn near impossible.”

  “I don’t think so,” I replied, “Kiaya did it.”

  “True.” He turned his head so he was looking at me. “What do you think it is about some people that makes it easier for them to adapt while the rest of us drown?”

  “Confidence, maybe?” I said. “That’s just a guess. I always thought I was a confident person, but this world has shown me that I wasn’t. Not like I thought, anyway. I used to live with a kind of certainty that I’m not sure most people had, and yet I wasn’t even aware of it. It was this knowledge that everything was going to go my way no matter what. Because I was pretty and smart, because my parents had money and I’m white. It’s terrifying when that gets ripped away and you realize the world is no longer certain. Maybe that’s why Kiaya fits in so much better than I do. Because she never had any real certainty.”

  “I never did, either,” Matt said. “But I don’t have a clue what the hell I’m doing. Not like she does.”

  “Then I don’t know.” I smiled. “Maybe she just has something we don’t.”

  “Maybe,” he said with a sigh.

  He went back to looking at the ceiling, and I studied him as he did. When I’d awakened to find the man I’d thought was Marcus Miller standing at my bedside, I’d been terrified, but all of that had vanished with this one small conversation. It was a relief, and I could tell I wasn’t the only one who felt it.

  I hated the idea of disturbing the quiet new friendship we’d created, but I had to ask. “How is everyone doing?”

  Matt turned his face, so he was looking at me again. “Devon’s okay. He’s worried. I think sending Kiaya here made him feel better at first, but after hearing nothing for more than a day, that vanished. It might be the only reason he agreed to send me here.”

  “I hate myself for causing him so much worry.” I exhaled, knowing there was nothing I could say. “And everyone else? The kids? Buck? Lisa?”

  “Lisa’s worried about Lane,” Matt said, “And the kids are fine. There are enough moms around to keep an eye on them even if Zara wasn’t doing it. Buck is…” Matt frowned. “He’s drinking more than he was before. Devon is trying to keep him out of sight.”

  “I thought he had it under control?”

  “Addicts don’t control their addictions, Rowan. Their addictions control them.”

  “You tried to tell us that,” I said, sighing.

  “If I’d explained myself a little better, maybe someone would have listened.”

  “Maybe, but there’s a chance I would have still wanted to cling to the illusion that Buck was going to be okay.”

  “There’s that, too,” he replied.

  “Listen,” I said, turning my head so I could stifle a yawn. “It’s the middle of the night, and I’m beat. There are two other rooms you can crash in, though. The beds aren’t great, but there’s hot water, which is a big plus.”

  “A shower does sound like a great idea.” Matt got to his feet, but still hesitated before leaving. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

  “First thing,” I said. “They usually bring breakfast about an hour after the sun comes up. Come back to my room, and you, me, and Kiaya can eat together.”

  “It’s a date,” he said, smiling, a teasing light in his eyes I’d never seen before.

  “I thought you were going to knock that off?”

  He laughed and turned away, waving. “Goodnight, Rowan.”

  “Goodnight, Matt,” I said.

  13

  Kiaya

  After a night of fitful sleep where my dreams alternated between Heath’s smiling face and the equally creepy grin of Jace, I woke feeling totally disoriented and unsure of where I was. The feeling passed quickly, though.

  The rain had stopped sometime during the night, and sunlight streamed in through the cracks in my curtains as I dragged myself out of bed and to the bathroom. I didn’t need the shower I took, but the thought of returning to the school very soon made it impossible to resist the lure of hot water. Still, I kept it brief and in no time was dry and dressed in a clean pair of scrubs. Then I headed to Rowan’s room.

  The door was open and the light on when I reached it, and I was in the middle of pulling my hair into a ponytail when I stepped inside and froze. Miller was sitting on the couch. Miller.

  For a second, I thought I might still be asleep, because I couldn’t wrap my brain around why he was here. Then I scanned the room, and not finding Rowan, my imagination went crazy.

  “Where is she?” I dashed across the room and grabbed Miller by the shirt. “Where is Rowan?”

  He put his hands up. “Hey!”

  “Kiaya?”

  Miller’s shirt still in my fist when I looked over my shoulder. Rowan was standing at the open bathroom door watching me, her hands frozen in the middle of braiding her wet hair.

  “What’s going on?”

  “When I found him in your room, I was worried.” I let go of Miller and stepped back, letting out a long breath as I looked between them, relieved but still very confused about what was going on. “What the hell is he doing here? What’s happening?”

  “We’re going to have breakfast together,” Rowan said. As if it was the most normal thing in the world.

  She went back to braiding her hair.

  My gaze went from her to him, my mind spinning in circles. She’d clearly just gotten out of the shower, and he was in her room… They hadn’t?

  “Did you sleep together?”

  Rowan’s mouth dropped open.

  “No!” Miller lifted his hands. “I slept in the other room.”

  “But why are you here?”

  “Devon sent him.” Rowan crossing the room to join us. “Matt got here last night, and we talked. Things are better now.”

  “Matt?” I narrowed my eyes on Miller. “I thought your name was Marc.”

  “Marc was my brother,” he explained then looked down like he was ashamed. “I think I have some apologizing to do.”

  “And some explaining,” I said.

  “That, too.”

  Miller’s whole demeanor seemed different as he repeated the story he’d told Rowan the night before. He was less cocky than he had been, coming across more than once as almost insecure. His story brought to mind how he’d looked at me after my talk with Buck, and how I’d seen something in him that I understood. I could see it now, too, more clearly than I had been able to even that day. It was a such a drastic change that I understood how Rowan had been able to switch to calling him Matt so easily. The man in front of me was nothing like the asshole Army guy we’d picked up in Texas. This guy, Matt Miller, was broken and scarred and trying his best to make amends for the things he’d done.

  “Anyway,” Miller said, “I confessed a little of this to Devon back at the school, which was the only reason he agreed to let me go. I know it’s going to take a lot more than that to convince him I’m not a bad guy, but I want to do whatever it takes, because I don’t want to be an asshole. I mean, I put on Marc’s uniform because I wanted to be more like him, and he was a nice guy.”

  “Admitting the truth goes a long way toward making us trust you,” I said, “but you have to prove it, too.”

  “I know.”

  The thud of footsteps put an end to our conversation, but after the endless nothingness of the day before, I didn’t get my hopes up. It was early, but I fully expected the jerk who’d brought our food yesterday to step into the room. Which was why I had a really difficult time concealing my shock when Heath stopped in the doorway.

  His gaze moved around the room, his eyes narrowing on our faces. “Have a nice reunion?”

  “It would be even better if we were in our own building an
d not collared like dogs,” I said, barely managing to cling to my calm.

  At this, Heath smiled. “You do amuse me, Kiaya.”

  I only shrugged.

  Our jailer turned his attention to Matt. “I’m told you have a message for me?”

  “From our people.” Matt got to his feet, his back straight and his demeanor suddenly different. More self-assured. “We’re tired of the games. Call Devon. Today.”

  “Is that an order?” Heath asked, his eyebrows lifting in a silent challenge.

  “It’s the decent thing to do.” Matt waved toward Rowan and me. “You have our people, and we want to fix that. We can negotiate, but you have to make the first move.”

  “Looks like you already did that,” Heath replied, shooting a pointed look toward me. “When you dragged my ex-wife here.”

  “We had no choice in that,” I said, working to keep my tone level. After yesterday, it wasn’t easy. I didn’t like being ignored, and I hated not being in control. “Lane was going to die.”

  Heath sighed and waved as if trying to shoo my words away. “So you keep saying.”

  Matt took a step toward Heath. “Are you going to call?”

  I’d never seen Matt look intimidating. Even when he was in uniform and trying to throw his imagined position around, he’d only come across as cocky and bossy. Now, though, he actually looked like a force to be reckoned with.

  Heath studied him for a moment, silent and contemplative and not the least bit amused. I didn’t get the impression he was concerned, more that he was trying to weigh his options and decide which one would work in his favor the most.

  Finally, he turned his gaze on us. “Are you ladies up for a ride?”

  Rowan jumped to her feet. “Yes!”

  I stood as well, but more slowly.

  To Miller, Heath said, “If you’ll excuse us.”

  Matt gave a curt nod. “I’ll be here.”

  Heath jerked his head toward the door before turning to leave, and Rowan and I followed. In the hall, he pulled a remote from his pocket and pressed a button, and the collar around my neck beeped. He pushed a second button, and another beep followed.

  “This way.” Heath started walking.

  “Where are we going?” Rowan asked, hurrying to keep up.

  “We need to get within range of the other radio,” Heath shot her a look, “unless, that is, you’re finally going to tell me where they are. If you do, we can load you and your friends up right now and drive out there.”

  “You know I can’t do that,” she said.

  Heath let out an annoyed sigh. “I guess we’ll have to follow Lane’s instructions and return to the scene of the crime. Seems like a waste when I can simply drop you off with your friends now.”

  “In exchange for Gabe and Lane,” Rowan reminded him. “You’re asking me to trade two lives for my freedom.”

  “Not just yours. Kiaya and this other friend of yours, Matt, are here as well. That’s three for the price of two. Some people might find the request reasonable.”

  “Not me,” she said.

  Heath gave an unconcerned shrug.

  He didn’t look back as he led us through the hospital, and before long chatter became audible, announcing that we would soon be reaching a busier area. We turned a corner, and a few people—two women and an old man with a bowed back—came into view, tending a few potted plants lining the wall. Bright lights had been mounted and hung above them, shining down on the greenery probably in hopes of helping the plants grow in the absence of sunshine. The two women stopped what they were doing as we passed, and one of them shot Heath a friendly smile while the other stared at us. The old man didn’t seem to notice us.

  We turned down another hall, and more people came into view. They all seemed to be working on something, and every single one of them was armed with some kind of weapon. Rifles or automatic weapons were slung over backs while knives and handguns had been stuck in the waistbands of pants. There were sheaths attached to belts as well, and even a couple people wearing guns holstered across their chests. Like the first few people we saw, Rowan and I received little more than a passing glance, and she seemed as uninterested in them as I was—or maybe she was too busy looking for her dad. Since I’d had almost no contact with the people here, I took the opportunity to study everyone, noting the wide range in ages. That was something Gabe’s group didn’t have. Yes, he’d taken in every kid he’d come across, but no one even remotely elderly. When we’d first met, he’d been adamant about not wanting any dead weight, making me think—despite his protests—the selection of his group had been intentional.

  As if the idea of talking to us in front of his people were beneath him, Heath didn’t utter a word or even look back to make sure we were following him until we’d reached the front door. Even then, all we got was a cursory glance before he pushed it open and stepped outside.

  I was two steps behind him with Rowan right on my heels. Despite the collar around my neck and the stink of rot that hit me when I stepped out, the cool, fall day was a welcome change after being locked in the stuffy and uncomfortable hospital room. Even better was the chance to get another look at what Heath’s people had done to fortify the exterior of the hospital.

  Pausing to looked around, I inhaled deeply, hoping to give the impression I was focused more on the fresh—although slightly rotten—air than my surroundings. My gaze swept across the area as I released the breath, pausing on the barricade of trucks and trailers and other large items keeping the dead out. They’d been set up in a semi-circle, blocking off a good section of the parking lot and giving the survivors plenty of space, and lookout stations had been set up on the roofs of three RVs where people could keep an eye out for incoming trouble. It also gave them an excellent vantage point for taking out the dead if necessary.

  What they’d done was impressive, especially considering how little time had gone by.

  “Like what you see?” I turned at the sound of Heath’s voice and found him watching me, an amused expression on his face.

  Rowan had stopped as well but had kept her distance from our captor.

  I started walking again. “I do.” I waved to the nearby gate, which was not nearly as awkward and clunky as the one Gabe’s people had created and a hell of a lot more secure. “I was just thinking how impressive it all is.”

  “We’ve been working hard,” Heath replied.

  Rowan started walking again when I met up with her, and together we headed over to join Heath.

  “I can tell,” I said.

  Heath waved to a nearby truck. “This way.”

  There were a few men loitering around the vehicle, talking and smoking, but the chatter eased at our approach. They watched us in silence, their expression unyielding and as cold as their leader’s, and nothing like the looks the people inside the building had given us. One of them was the same guy who’d brought us food the day before, and I could only assume these were Heath’s right-hand-men. They were probably the people he trusted the most to have his back if and when he needed to resort to violence. Based on the way they were glaring at Rowan and me, I had no doubt he was right.

  “These are the men who will be accompanying us,” Heath said, waving to the three men standing beside the truck.

  They nodded but said nothing.

  I stepped forward, my hand out, but didn’t smile. “I’m Kiaya.” I waved behind me with the hand I hadn’t offered them. “Thanks for escorting us today.”

  None of them responded, and none of them took my hand.

  Heath chuckled. “You’re keeping me on my toes.” He waved at the first guy in the group, a thirtyish guy with wavy blond hair and hazel eyes that would have been pretty if his expression wasn’t so severe. “Dan.” Heath gestured to the short, plump Hispanic man at Dan’s side, then the final guy. “Jose. And Michael.”

  Michael—the only one to even acknowledge the introductions—gave a small nod, which was followed by a jerk of his head when his long, dark hai
r fell over his forehead. He was the one who’d brought our food the day before, but at the time I’d been so irritated I’d given him little thought. Now, though, I studied him. He was the youngest of the three and a good thirty years Jose’s junior at what I guessed to be around twenty, but like the other two men, there was something very cold about his expression.

  “You ready for this?” Heath asked, focusing on his men.

  “Got enough ammo to take out an entire school,” Michael said, his gaze on me as he waited for my reaction to the announcement.

  Thankfully, I had a practiced poker face, because the first thing to go through my mind was that Heath and his men knew where our people were. It only took a couple seconds of studying the man who’d made the statement, however, to realize he’d actually made what was supposed to be a joke about school shootings, and he was waiting for me to react. I kept my expression neutral, and he smirked as if my non-reaction was exactly what he’d wanted.

  “No schools left these days,” Jose said in a slight Hispanic accent, pausing to spit as if the words had left a bad taste in his mouth. “You’re gonna hafta make do with killin’ the dead.”

  “Too bad,” Michael responded, still eyeing me.

  Dan said nothing, but it was clear he hoped his silence would unnerve us.

  So, these were the kind of people Heath surrounded himself with. The kind who liked to intimidate others into submission. It went along with the opinion I’d already formed of him, but I found it interesting that he had no problem showing this side of himself to us.

  “Okay, then,” Heath said, nodding to the truck. “Let’s hop in and get this over with.”

  Dan climbed in behind the wheel while Heath yanked the back door open. He waved, indicating that Rowan and I should get in, acting almost bored by the whole thing. Wordlessly, we did, me climbing in first and sliding across the seat, and Rowan getting in behind me.

  I’d expected him to get in with us, but he shut the door and went around the front of the truck, crossing to the passenger seat. Before he’d reached it, the whole truck rocked and groaned, and I glanced over my shoulder to find Jose and Michael in the bed. They didn’t sit, but rather stood with their automatic weapons in hand like they were expecting trouble. Or maybe they were just hoping for it.