Never Look Back
Author: Mary Burton
Date: 2020-07-01 00:00:00+00:00
Description: Expect the unexpected in this gritty, tense, and page-turning thriller from New York Times bestselling author Mary Burton.After multiple women go missing, Agent Melina Shepard of the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation makes the impulsive decision to go undercover as a prostitute. While working the street, she narrowly avoids becoming a serial killer’s latest victim; as much as it pains her to admit, she needs backup.Enter lone wolf FBI agent Jerrod Ramsey. Stonewalled by a lack of leads, he and Melina investigate a scene where a little girl has been found abandoned in a crashed vehicle. They op
Publisher: Montlake
Rights: Copyright 2019 Kate L. Mary. All rights reserved.

No Looking Back

A Zombie Apocalypse Love Story

Kate L. Mary

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Acknowledgments

Also by Kate L. Mary

About the Author

Published by Twisted Press, LLC, an independently owned company.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2019 by Kate L. Mary

Cover art by Kate L. Mary

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Created with Vellum

For the Milton-Union High School Class of 1998

Chapter 1

The sun was still low when I stepped outside, but its bright orange and yellow rays were visible through the trees lining the Stillwater River. There had been a time when the dawning of a new day was something I could take in stride, but not anymore. Now, the end of every day felt like an accomplishment, and the beginning of a new one seemed like a very complicated and exhausting set of hurdles I would be forced to overcome.

I stood on the top step of the RV I now called home for a moment longer and as I looked around. All across the settlement other people were preparing to start a new day, some laboring over fires to get breakfast or coffee going, while others had already been up for hours and were fully dressed, moving about their daily tasks with a purpose that only this terrifying new world could bring.

I was somewhere in between since I’d been awake for a couple hours and had eaten a protein bar in the privacy of my RV while reading. It was one of the few simple pleasures from the old world that I refused to give up. I clung to it like a man lost at sea holding onto a life preserver. It helped keep me sane, helped transport me somewhere else, if only for a few hours.

Everyone had their own form of salvation these days. For some it was the one family member that had miraculously survived when seventy-five percent of the world died, or the picture they had taken from their home before leaving their old lives behind for good. No matter what it was, it was the thing that kept you going, that gave you something to live for or a moment of peace in an otherwise hectic and unpredictable world.

The RV shook slightly when I took a step down. Our little settlement was located in a valley that had at one time been West Milton Municipal Park. When most of the population died only to come back as the walking dead, this had seemed like a natural place to set up camp. The southern entrance, which sat at the top of a steep hill along Washington Street, had been fortified with a wall of cars and dumpsters that we’d managed to move from other areas. The same thing had been done at the main entrance on State Route 571. That road looked down over the valley and was the only way vehicles were able to access the park, and thanks to the combined efforts of the survivors, it now had a much sturdier gate than the one that had existed before.

Now, eight months after this all started and having just survived our first winter, we were fairly settled in. All around the former park RVs and trailers were lined up by the dozens, situated in a semi-circle with a clearing in the middle. Fire pits sat in front of every one of them, some the kind that used to be sold in stores, while others were nothing more than holes dug in the ground with grates over them. Either way, they worked, and they were more than necessary in this new reality of no electricity.

Over the last eight months people had worked to make this feel more like home, building small porches or even screened in areas in front of their RVs. Dirt bikes or motorcycles were parked outside a lot of them—although finding gas was getting more and more difficult—and even a few bicycles. Horses, too, had been liberated from farms and stables and now lived in the valley we called home.

We’d gotten lucky, living in a rural area that was teeming with hunters and farmers, as well as avid fishermen—and women. There was no shortage of game to go around, and now that spring had bloomed, the former farmers had already begun planting crops. As much as I missed the old world and the life I’d had before, we were doing pretty well. We had a safe place, a good group, and a plan for the future. Just hearing the stories from travelers passing through told me it wasn’t always the case, and I was learning to be thankful for small things.

“April!”

I turned at the sound of my name, pushing my thick, dark hair back when it got caught on the wind and blew across my face. Devon was heading my way, huffing as he jogged, his pink cheeks telling me he’d been out for a while already, as did his camouflage pants and shirt, and the rifle slung over his shoulder. He leaned down when he stopped in front of me, putting his hands on his knees as he worked to slow his breathing, while his brown eyes focused on my face.

Five years my junior, Devon was one of the few men who was even close to my age, which for some reason made the entire settlement think we should be together. Not that I was interested. He was a nice enough guy, and always had a smile on his face despite everything he’d lost, but a relationship wasn’t on my list of priorities when it came to post-apocalyptic survival. Despite the ever increasing hints from my seventy-year-old neighbor, Dolly, that I was going to end up an old maid.

“What’s going on?” I asked Devon when he’d finally caught his breath.

“We picked up a straggler just outside town. He’s pretty worn out. Apparently, he’s been on the road for months. Started in California but headed this way when the virus hit. Said he was trying to get home to see his family.”

“He just now made it here?”

I thought about the months that had passed since the virus struck and martial law was declared. Travel had been limited and closely monitored in hopes of stopping the spread of the virus, but it didn’t work. Nothing could, not against something this deadly. Within weeks it had swept across the country, wiping out nearly everyone. The people who were spared should have counted themselves lucky, only it wasn’t an easy thing to do once the bodies started coming back as zombies that wanted nothing more than to wipe human beings off the face of the earth for good.

“He ran into a lot of trouble out there,” Devon said.

“I’m not surprised.”

My gaze moved past him as I scanned the distance, wondering who this guy was and why Devon was bothering me with it. Sure, I was an elected member of the council, but people didn’t usually come running to me when they picked up a straggler. In fact, I sometimes felt like I was the last to learn about a newcomer.

“He says he knows you,” Devon said, answering my silent question unbidden.

My gaze snapped back to him while my heart rate picked up speed the way a horde did when it spotted dinner. My throat was suddenly dry, and I couldn’t utter a word. I tried to swallow, but it did no good.

California. Whoever this guy was, he’d been in California.

It couldn’t be him. Could it? Was it possible I might get a second chance?

Finally, against all odds, I managed to mumble, “What’s his name?”

“Landon James.”

Landon.

The breath left my body and my head rolled in an unnatural way. Darkness began to creep across my vision, and I reached out, trying to grab hold of Devon so I didn’t fall. He said my name, I could hear it, but it sounded far away. Something gripped my elbow, but it wasn’t enough. I stumbled and reached out again, but there was nothing to grab onto. There was only darkness. Darkness, Landon, and me.

Chapter 2

“April.” The voice came from far away; only this time it wasn’t Devon. I knew before I’d even opened my eyes, just like I knew the person whispering my name wasn’t a stranger. He was the opposite of a stranger. He was a ghost from my past, one that had been gone so long I’d been certain he was dead. One I’d never allowed myself to hope I would see again.

Landon.

My eyes fluttered open and I found a familiar face hovering over me. Familiar, and yet different, too. He’d aged, just like I had, and his face was streaked with dirt and covered in a scraggily beard. I’d never seen him with a beard before, and even though the dark circles under his brown eyes told me how exhausted he was, I liked it on him. He looked rugged, like he belonged in this world. Like he belonged here with me.

“Landon,” I whispered.

I lifted my hand, my fingers tingling with the need to touch his face, but I held back. We hadn’t ended things on good terms, quite the opposite, and five years and a whole world had disappeared since the last time we’d spoken. Would he want me to touch him? Was he as happy and relieved to see me as I was to see him?

“Let me check her over,” a grumbly voice said before Landon could reply.

He pulled away, disappearing behind a group of other worried faces, and was replaced by Cliff, the gnarled doctor who’d been forced out of retirement by the virus.

“You been eating enough?” Cliff asked as he wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm.

“Yes.” I tried to push him away, but stopped at the stern scowl he gave me. Saying no to Cliff was not an option. “I’m fine, really. I was just shocked.”

My gaze flitted past Cliff as I searched the crowd for Landon, but he was nowhere in sight.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Cliff said just before covering his ears with his stethoscope, cutting off my chance to argue. Not that I was going to. It was easier to just let Cliff have his way so I could move on.

A few minutes later I was being helped to a sitting position. The ground beneath me was coated in a layer of moisture from the spring night, and the backside of my jeans—which I had just washed two days prior—were no doubt covered in dirt and grass stains. It would be at least a week before I bothered washing them again, though. Unless it was blood or zombie guts, there just wasn’t much of a point these days.

“You should probably take it easy for the day,” Cliff said as he hauled himself to his feet.

The way his face scrunched up told me standing wasn’t easy, but he was a proud man. Way too proud to ask for help if he could manage it himself.

I looked up at him from my position on the ground. The sun had risen and was now past the tree line, and the sky had brightened to a purplish-blue. A handful of puffy clouds dotted it, but only a few. It was going to be a bright and warm day. A perfect, spring day. The kind that would have had me clamoring to go outside when I was a kid, usually to meet Landon.

“I’m fine,” I said firmly.

Cliff’s eyes narrowed, and when he shook his head, not a single white hair moved. There wasn’t a lot left, and what remained was stuck to his scalp, weighed down by dirt and grease. Showers were sporadic, and Cliff wasn’t one to worry about washing what little hair he had. There were more important things in life, or at least that was what he muttered under his breath whenever someone wrangled up a fresh supply of shampoo.

“Rest,” he barked. “If you’re coming down with something, we need to nip it in the butt before it gets worse. We don’t have enough medicine to take risks.”

I nodded because there was no way to win this argument, especially not since I’d been on the opposite side of it more than the receiving end. If there was one thing we didn’t risk these days, it was our health.

“Good.” Cliff nodded twice before turning his back to me. “If I hear you’re doing anything but sitting on that pretty little ass of yours, you’ll be in trouble.”

“What’s he going to do,” I grumbled, “ground me?”

Devon was at my side, which I hadn’t registered until he reached out to take my arm so he could help me stand. “He’d probably put you over his knee.”

“And enjoy every minute of it,” I said. “Pervert.”

“He’s of the generation that thought it was okay to pinch a woman’s ass,” Devon said.

“It’s not really an excuse, is it?”

He chuckled in response.

I was talking to Devon, but I wasn’t looking at him. I was searching for Landon.

A small crowd had gathered around me, but had begun to disperse during my debate with Cliff. Landon, for whatever reason, seemed to have wandered away as well. Maybe he didn’t really want to see me. Maybe he hadn’t expected to find me here and seeing me brought back all the bitter words we’d flung at each other the last time we talked. Maybe he wouldn’t stay.

“You okay?” Devon asked.

His hand was still on my elbow, and even though I didn’t want to be rude, I wanted him to let me go. He’d spent too much time listening to the opinions of the other people in the settlement and seemed to think us getting together was inevitable. On the other hand, I was pretty sure it was inevitable that we were going to end up not talking to each other if things continued down this path.

“I’m good.” Gingerly, I pulled my arm from his grasp. “Although a day of lying around doing nothing sounds like a waste to me.”

“Enjoy it.” Devon shoved his hand through his strawberry blond hair, pushing it off his forehead. It had grown several inches since we met last fall, and that compounded with the weight he’d lost in the wake of the virus made him look older. More mature. “So, what’s the story with this Landon guy? I mean, I’d like to think women fainted simply from hearing my name, but I’m thinking there’s more to the story.”

“He’s my ex-boyfriend,” I said.

Again, I wasn’t looking at Devon, but instead scanning the settlement in search of Landon. He seemed to have disappeared, though.

“Wow.” Devon nodded slowly, doing everything he could to make it seem like the news was no big deal, but the stiff way he held himself gave him away. “You’ve been broken up for a long time?”

“Yeah.” I exhaled, deciding to give up on searching for Landon for the time being, and turned to face Devon. “We dated in high school and then through college. He got a job in California and wanted me to move with him. I didn’t want to go. We fought about it for months until things finally came to an end.”

I shrugged like ending an eight-year relationship was no big deal, which was a total lie. It had crushed me. Had crippled me. It had sent me on a self-destructive journey that had lasted five years and only ended when the world did.

“I need to lie down.” I turned my back on Devon.

“I’ll check on you later,” he said to my back.

I’d only taken three steps toward my RV, but stopped because I needed to put things into perspective now before his dreams of romance went any further.

Turning, I put myself sideways, the RV on one side and Devon on the other, keeping my gaze straight ahead. “I need to lay this out for you, and even though I know it’s not going to be easy to hear, it needs to be said.” I sucked in a deep breath. “It’s not going to happen, Devon. It just isn’t.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his shoulders slump. “I kind of figured.”

Could have fooled me, I thought.

Out loud I said, “You’re a nice guy, you really are, so when I say it’s not you, it’s me, I mean it.”

“Right.” Devon chuckled. “It has to be me a little. I’m not dumb.”

“Maybe,” I responded, “Or maybe it’s just the two of us together. For me, it just doesn’t work.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “Thanks for being honest.”

I finally ventured a look his way. “In a world where we could die at any moment, I feel like being honest is the best policy.”

“Yeah.” Devon nodded as he turned away, saying over his shoulder, “Get some rest.”

I gave him a small wave before climbing back into my RV.

Chapter 3

While the prospect of spending a day lying around doing nothing had seemed horrible at first, it wasn’t long before I gave myself over to it. I had created an oasis inside my RV, which was a thousand times nicer than anything I would have been able to afford before the virus. Since it was no longer mobile, the sides were permanently extended, leaving plenty of space for both the couch and the small table. There was a kitchen, now partly useless since Dayton, Power, & Light was a thing of the past, and the bedroom at the back had a queen size bed.

It was more than a person in this world needed since most of the luxuries of the past had died along with the majority of the population, but it was a comfort to have a private place to retire in the evening. I’d never been a very social person, and while living in close quarters with a group of people you trusted was important these days, it could also get old fast. There was very little privacy, and not much happened that the rest of the settlement didn’t know about. Like when Max, a man in his fifties, had slapped his wife last October. We’d all heard it.

That had been the first major conflict in our little settlement. It was also the reason we’d established the council—a group of seven people, all different ages, who were more or less the governing body for our group. We’d opened it up to nominations, not wanting to bring messy politics into a world that was already complicated beyond anything we’d ever imagined, and from there had held an election. Fifteen people were nominated, myself among them, and seven elected for a term of one year. It had been an experiment, and terrifying for those of us elected, but it was working.

Our first order of business had been Max. What were we supposed to do with a man who beat his wife? Even more complicated: How did we deal with the situation when his wife didn’t want us to interfere?

Ultimately, we’d decided to send them on their way. She’d been unwilling to speak out against her husband, and Max was of the mindset that it was none of our business. I’d hated doing it, but it was our only option. Now, months later, I couldn’t see it any differently. We had to do everything we could to keep our group strong, and that meant keeping us united. We couldn’t be united when we were harboring an abusive and co-dependent couple, and even though I believed they’d most likely perished out there on their own, I also stood by the decision we made that day. These were tough times, and we had to make tough choices.

It had helped that no one in the settlement spoke out against the council’s decision.

I spent the morning curled up on my bed, reading and dozing, pretending I wasn’t in an RV I’d helped steal from an abandoned dealership, but instead back in the little house I’d owned on the other side of town. It was the weekend, Sunday afternoon to be exact. I’d spent Friday night out on the town, drinking, flirting, and eventually picking up a guy who’d taken me back to his place. After sneaking out while he was still asleep, I’d caught an Uber home where I slept off my hangover. Sunday morning was spent grading papers, and now, having recovered and caught up on work, I was enjoying a book and a glass of wine—or three.

That had been my average weekend for the five years following my breakup with Landon and preceding the virus. As a single woman who taught tenth grade English at the very high school I’d graduated from, I’d been forced to put on a demur face throughout the week, but during the weekend my life had often felt too empty to be tolerable. The only cure had been drinking and partying so I could forget my monotonous and stifling existence.

Everything had changed with the virus. The people around me started getting sick, each of them dying off until I was totally alone in this world. I lost my grandma, my parents, my siblings, my nieces and nephews. Every friend I had in the area. The electricity shut off, then the water. The small town I’d always lived in had turned into a ghost town almost over night, only to be transformed into something that resembled the set of a horror movie shortly after that. The dead had taken over, pulling themselves out of beds and opening doors, stumbling down the streets in search of something living they could sink their teeth into. It had felt unreal, but at the same time had been the most real thing I’d ever experienced.

I’d fought to survive. For whatever reason, after years of not fighting for my life, I’d made the choice not to give up.

Coming from a gun family—my dad had loved to hunt, fish, and had even taught gun safety courses—I was familiar with firearms. No, I’d never shot at something moving, but I’d fired a gun more than once. Thankfully, the zombies weren’t that fast. I’d gathered weapons, taking the guns and ammo my dad and brothers had stashed away, and had searched neighboring houses for supplies. Since I lived across the street from the school, it had made sense to raid the cafeteria. That was where I’d first run into other survivors.

They’d fortified the school and were camped out in the cafeteria, had even dragged gym mats in so they had beds. It was a good setup, or at least that was what we’d thought at the time. We’d stayed there for a few weeks, and while it had been fairly safe, it hadn’t taken long to realize there were too many ways in and out. Too many windows and too many doors. Keeping watch had been a nightmare, not to mention the fact that we were all getting tired of sleeping on the floor—the gym mats were fine for a few nights, but after that my back had started to hurt.

We’d searched the town looking for a grouping of houses we might be able to fortify, but everything was too open. Too exposed. That was when someone came up with the idea of moving into the park. With winter coming, though, we’d realized we needed a solution more solid than tents.

The RVs and trailers came from a dealership in Tipp City. Less than ten miles away, they’d been fully stocked and ready for the picking. We’d loaded as many people as we could into a few trucks, drove there, and taken whatever we needed. From there, setting up our little town of mobile homes had been easy, and it had worked pretty well. Yes, the winter had been rough, but we wouldn’t have been much better off in a house. With no electricity, our only option for keeping warm was to pile more blankets on, so that was what we did.

Despite my attempt to embrace relaxation, by noon I was over it. I wasn’t sick, and even if it got me in trouble with Cliff, I was done lying around. Plus, I still maintained that he couldn’t do anything to punish me. I was on the council, and as important as he was as the only doctor in our settlement, my position trumped his.

Plus, no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about Landon. I was dying to see him. To know he was okay, to hear what he’d been up to. To let him know how sorry I was for how things had ended between us.

Like it usually was this time of the day, the settlement felt deserted when I stepped out. The kids were still in the massive RV that served as the schoolhouse, while most of the adults were busy at work. Either down by the river fishing or off hunting for game, or even performing one of the many tedious tasks that came with life in the apocalypse. Like searching the newly green forest for food, patrolling the perimeter of the settlement, or even scavenging for supplies. We’d gone through the town house by house, but there were other places further out that we hadn’t explored yet, and at least once a week a group went out. There was still a good deal of area to be explored thanks to how few opportunities we’d had to get out during the long winter, and now that spring had bloomed, we were making that a priority.

The few people who were around nodded to me when I walked by, and even though I was still scanning the area in search of Landon, I did my best to be cordial and return the greeting. I knew where to find him, but for some reason found myself dragging my feet. We had a routine when people came in. They were given a hot meal and an opportunity to get cleaned up, as well as a change of clothes if they needed it—which they usually did—and then they had to meet with the council.

We couldn’t let just anyone in. It was too risky. These days, zombies weren’t the only monsters we had to worry about. People could be worse, and letting strangers in could threaten everything we’d built.

The showers were at the far end of the settlement, near the outhouses, so that was where I headed. I spotted Deb, a fiftyish woman and another member of the council, standing beside the fire. In front of her, steam rose from a large pot, curling around her face and turning her skin pink. Beads of sweat dotted her brow, and her salt and pepper hair was damp, clinging to her scalp, but when she looked up and her gray eyes met mine, she smiled.

“Feeling better?”

“I was never feeling bad,” I said as I came to a stop on the other side of the fire. “Just shocked.”

“I heard you and the newcomer have some history.”

“Devon has a big mouth,” I muttered.

Deb’s grin widened. “Go easy on him. He’s a little heartbroken at the moment.”

“He’s just disappointed that he lost his only chance to get laid,” I replied.

The deep laugh Deb let out shook her shoulders. “I can’t argue with that.”

I looked past her, toward the shower house where a few other members of the council stood talking. Mike, a former lawyer in his late thirties, Jessie, the former wife of a farmer, and Hector, a Hispanic man who’d only recently moved to the area. There was no sign of Landon.

I looked back at Deb to find her studying me. “Is he around?”

“In the shower.” The other woman looked down at the pot, taking a moment to stir the contents with a wooden stick.

I watched in silence as the strips of fabric swirled around, twisting and turning in the boiling water in a way that reminded me of a front load washing machine. They were bandages, washed and now being boiled for reuse.

“Are you going to vouch for him?” Deb asked. “If he’s going to stay, you know you’re going to have to vouch for him.”

Anyone who joined our group had to be vouched for by someone else, either someone they knew, or the person who found them and brought them in. It meant taking responsibility for newcomers by keeping track of what they were doing and making sure they were playing by the rules.

“He’s a good man,” I said.

“He was a good man.” Deb let go of the stick so she could push her sweaty hair out of her face. “We both know there are a lot of people out there who seemed like they were good back when we had law and order. It didn’t stop them from turning into monsters the second civilization disappeared.”

She was right, but I couldn’t imagine a scenario where Landon would have turned into someone like that. He didn’t have a selfish bone in his body.

“Not Landon,” I said.

It was that moment that he materialized, stepping from the shower house like he was stepping out of my past. Cleaner than he had been the first time I saw him, but still sporting the beard. Still looking like a rougher version of the man I used to know.

His eyes met mine, and everything in me pulled tight. It was a feeling I’d forgotten existed. I’d forgotten how drawn I’d always felt toward him. Even back when we were kids and had been nothing more than friends. It was something I’d never felt with another person, and something I couldn’t believe had been able to survive the apocalypse and years of being apart.

Chapter 4

Deb turned to watch as Landon headed our way, but I couldn’t move. His gaze trapped me, held so it was impossible to escape.

He stopped on the other side of the fire, at Deb’s side, and through the tendrils of smoke dancing in the open space between us, I was able to get my first good look at him. He looked older than I expected, as if a lifetime and not just five years had passed since we’d seen one another. It wasn’t something that would have been obvious to most people, physically he didn’t look older than his twenty-seven years, but I could see it. It was in his eyes. In the lack of shine, the lack of mirth that usually danced in those brown depths.

“Landon.” His name was like a whisper on my lips, and I flushed as memories of other times I’d whispered his name came rushing back in a tsunami of images.

“April.” He nodded, his head dipping once while his eyes stayed glued to me.

I held my breath, waiting for him to say more, but he didn’t, and the silence stretched out. A cool breeze blew, grabbing hold of the wisps of smoke and making them swirl around us in much the same way the quiet was, but still Landon said nothing.

After what felt like an eternity, Deb cleared her throat. “You get yourself something to eat?”

Landon visibly started, blinking twice before focusing on Deb. “I did, thank you.”

“Good, good.” Deb had turned her gaze back to the pot in front of her as if it were more interesting than the emotional silence hanging between Landon and me. “I’m sure you’ve been informed about how all this works.”

“I’ve been told I’ll have to talk to the council if I want to stay. Let them know what I’ve been up to for the last eight months.” Landon looked down, focusing on the patchy grass beneath his feet.

“It’s okay,” I said, finding my voice at last. “They just need to know you’re a good person.”

He kept his gaze down. “You don’t know I’m a good person.”

“I do.” I wanted to reach out and touch him, to comfort him the way I had in high school when his grandma died, but the fire separating us made it impossible.

“A lot has happened over the last eight months, April.” Again, he didn’t look up. “You don’t know what I’ve had to do to get here. I don’t think I can claim to be a good man anymore. Not after all this.”

Before I could utter a word, Deb said, “You just tell the truth and let us worry about whether or not you’re a good man. Things today are more complicated than they used to be.” She let out a long breath as she stirred the water. “Good and bad are different than they used to be. Harder to untangle.”

“Yeah,” Landon murmured. “Yeah.”

“In the meantime,” Deb kept her focus on her work, “Why don’t you let April show you around?”

“That’s a good idea,” I said.

Landon nodded, but said nothing as he moved around the fire to join me on the other side. When he stopped next to me, his body heat was ten times more intense than the flames, and it took a moment to find my voice.

“This way.”

Landon nodded, still saying nothing as we started walking, leaving Deb behind.

We walked in silence for a bit, but before long the heaviness of it overwhelmed me. There were so many things I wanted to say, so many things I wanted to ask, so many things I wanted to know, but I couldn’t force a single one out.

“This is a great setup you have here,” Landon said, finally breaking the silence.

“We’ve worked really hard.”

“I can tell.” He looked around, scanning the area in the distance where we had built stables for animals and where we’d plowed the land to prepare for planting. “It’s impressive.”

“We got lucky and our group has a very diverse background and knowledge base.”

“That is lucky…”

He let the words trail off and once again we lapsed into silence. It followed us until we’d left the grouping of RVs behind, but we kept walking. In front of us, at the far end of the valley, sat the road leading up to the only exit. It twisted its way up the side of the hill, high above a small pond where a few ducks swam lazily, freshly returned from their exodus down south.

“I can’t believe you’re alive,” Landon said finally.

“I can’t believe you’re—” My voice broke and I had to clear my throat. “Eight months, Landon. I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through.”

“You’ll find out soon enough, I guess.” He gave me a crooked smile, barely discernable through his scraggily beard, and my heart skipped a beat from the familiarity of it. “I heard you’re on the council.”

“I am,” I said, trying to return his smile. “I was shocked when they nominated me, I’m so much younger than a lot of people here, but it seems to be working.”

“I’m not surprised,” he replied, still grinning. “You were always good in a crisis. A level head.”

“It’s been harder to hold on to since everything…” My voice trailed off as we reached the edge of the pond and stopped walking.

“I can’t imagine how bad it was, being here to watch everything you knew fall apart,” Landon said. “I was all the way on the other side of the country, and being surrounded by people I barely knew was bad enough, but having to be here. In your hometown.” He swallowed. “Watching your family die.”

“It was awful,” I said.

He let out a long breath before saying, “My parents? Did you— I mean, did they— Do you know what happened to them?” He looked past me toward the north side of town like he was trying to catch a glimpse of his childhood home. “I intended to go there first, but I ran into some guys out on patrol before I could.”

“I’m sorry, Landon.” The pain in his brown eyes when they focused on me almost made me chicken out. “They’re dead. I checked on them, you know I did. They were already gone, though.”

An involuntary shudder shook my body at the memory of going to see Landon’s parents.

“I know.” He exhaled again. “The last time I talked to them, they were both sick, and since no one got better…” He shook his head. “I just need to see it for myself.”

“I don’t know if you want to do that,” I said.

“I don’t know if I do either, but I need to. You know?”

I did know.

“I can go with you,” I said. “That is, if you want me to. I understand if you want to go alone, though.”

Landon nodded a couple times, his hair falling over his forehead in the process, and I had to stop myself from reaching up to push it back the way I used to when we were together. Too much time had passed to fall back into old habits like that.

“Yeah. I’d appreciate that.”

“Okay,” I said. “We can go now if you want.”

“What about the council meeting?”

“We won’t do that until after dinner. Everyone is working now, but things will settle down tonight. That’s when we’ll meet.”

“Okay, then,” Landon said.

“We just need to let someone know we’re going.” I nodded back toward the RVs. “You know, in case we don’t come back.”

“Makes sense,” he replied.

“Yeah,” I said.

We headed back toward the grouping of RVs so we could let everyone know we were heading out. A quick trip to my own RV, which Landon studied with quiet interest, provided us with all the supplies we would need. I grabbed my usual weapons—knives and a rifle—and my backpack, which I kept stocked with basic supplies. It wasn’t a lot—a canteen of water, a few protein bars in case I got caught out longer than anticipated, a small first aid kit, and a flashlight. The basics.

Neither one of us spoke as we left my RV and headed toward the only exit, but there were a mountain of questions hanging between us that needed to be answered, most of which had to do with what we’d done to survive the last eight months.

The road leading out of the valley was long and at an incline, and physically exerting even for people who’d worked hard every day since the virus killed most of the world. It gave Landon and me an excuse to stay silent even though both of us knew it was just that—an excuse.

We were both panting by the time we reached the gate that led out of the settlement, where we had to stop and wait for it to be opened.

There were five people on duty at the moment, all of them armed with an abundance of weapons. Knives, a couple machetes, handguns and rifles, and even a crossbow. If a few of the dead found their way to our gates the guards would be ready to take them out quietly, using blades and arrows or anything else they could get their hands on that wouldn’t draw attention to the settlement. However, they were also ready if something bigger happened. A horde that couldn’t be easily taken out or, God forbid, a group of other survivors who didn’t want to play nice. It hadn’t happened yet, although we’d had some not so great people show up, but we knew from experience that we had to plan for any possible scenario if we wanted to keep the settlement safe.

Devon was on guard, and as the gate swung open, letting out a low groan, he didn’t try to hide the way he was sizing Landon up.

“You heading out to scavenge or hunt?” He puffed his chest out like he was trying to make himself bigger, but at four inches under six feet, he seemed small and childish compared to Landon’s six foot two frame.

“Neither,” I said as I passed him, nodding for Landon to follow. “We have someplace we need to visit.”

“You need me to go, too?” Devon asked. “You know, for backup.”

I tried not to roll my eyes at the ridiculous offer, but it was difficult to control myself.

“No, thanks. This is personal. I’m sure you understand.”

Devon pressed his lips together like he was trying to hold something in, but nodded.

“Thanks, though,” Landon said.

“Be careful out there,” Bill, a friendly man in his forties said as we passed. “We’ve spotted a few big groups of the dead in the area lately. Now that things have thawed out, they’ve started traveling together.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” I said, giving the other man a smile.

The other people at the gate—Trish, a buxom girl who was barely 20 and possibly Devon’s only other chance for love, Matt, and Sidney—nodded as we passed, but said nothing, which I was thankful for. I was positive Devon had spilled the beans about my connection to Landon and eventually people would be asking questions, and it was a relief to be able to avoid them for the time being.

Landon and I headed off, walking side by side across State Route 571 on our way to State Route 48, which ran through the center of town. It also happened to be the street Landon grew up on, in an old house on the north side of town that had at one time belonged to his grandparents. His mom and dad had still been living there when the virus hit. It was where they’d raised their kids and ultimately where they’d died, and in my own head had turned into their tomb.

Landon broke the silence just as we passed the white building on the corner that had once upon a time been the West Milton Inn, but had been empty for almost as long as I could remember. “This is going to be bad, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I said, “I’m sorry. When I found them, I wanted to bury them, but things were too chaotic. I was still searching for somewhere safe and felt like I was constantly looking over my shoulder. By the time things settled down, it was just too…”

Gruesome was what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want Landon to think about his parents rotting in their house, even if he would see it for himself very soon.

“I get it.” He looked my way, not slowing, and studied me for a moment with those deep, brown eyes I loved so much. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me, April. I know you did everything you could.”

“Too bad there was very little I could do.”

“That goes for all of us.”

We went back to walking in silence, and questions once again hanging over my head, but more than that were the words I’d wanted to say to him for the past five years. They were pushing their way up, tickling the tip of my tongue, and as much as it terrified me to bring it all up, I wouldn’t be able to keep them inside much longer.

I was right, and we’d only passed two more houses when they burst out of me. “I need to say I’m sorry. About what happened between us. How it ended. I’ve hated myself every day since then and I need to tell you how much I’ve regretted it all.”

“It’s not a big deal.” Landon glanced toward me but didn’t slow.

“It is, though.”

“No, April, it’s not. It’s in the past, and there’s no point in looking back now. All that stuff we thought was important back then just seems stupid now. Pointless.” He gave me another crooked grin. “We just need to focus on now and the future, and how we’re going to keep surviving.”

“I know,” I said, “but I need to know you forgive me, Landon. I need to know.”

He stopped walking finally and turned to face me, the smile still on his face. “I forgave you a long time ago. It’s me I’ve had a hard time forgiving.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I was stupid. I never should have let you go. Especially not for a damn job.”

“I should have gone anywhere you asked me to.”

“Well, let’s just agree that we were both idiots and go from there, okay?”

“Okay,” I said. “No looking back.”

“No looking back,” he repeated.

Landon held my gaze for a moment longer before nodding once, and then we started walking again.

Chapter 5

The walk to Landon’s childhood home was short, but when we reached it, instead of going in, he stopped on the sidewalk and stared at the place like he was seeing it for the first time in his life.

“It looks so rundown already,” he said, his focus still on the house.

The once carefully maintained lawn was overgrown with weeds, as were the flowerbeds Landon’s mom had lovingly tended for as long as I could remember. His parents had always taken good care of the house, and that hadn’t changed with age. Even after we broke up and he moved to California, I would drive past the house and marvel at how neat it always looked.

“I can’t imagine what it will look like a year from now,” Landon murmured, “or five years.”

“Nature will slowly start to reclaim everything,” I replied, looking around at the neighboring houses whose front yards hadn’t fared much better.

Only eight months had passed, but already I was able to get a glimpse of what was to come. Fall leaves, usually raked up by diligent homeowners, littered the streets and yards, and branches that had been ripped from trees by the multiple storms we’d had during fall and winter were scattered around. In yards, on roofs, and in the road. There was no one left to worry about picking them up, and that wouldn’t change any time soon. A year from now there would be twice as many, and more would join them with each passing year while around them the houses would slowly deteriorate. In five years the hometown I loved would look like a ghost town, and in ten it would probably more closely resemble a wilderness than a place people had once lived, laughed, and loved in.

“Nothing will ever be the same,” I said.

Landon nodded twice as he sucked in a deep breath, and when he had blown it out, he finally moved toward the house.

I followed close behind, my gun out and ready just in case, and my heart pounding out a rhythm that reminded me of the theme song from Jaws. He had to do this, I knew he did, but I also knew that what awaited him would haunt his dreams.

Maybe stopping him was the right thing to do. It would spare him some of the pain if he didn’t have to see what had become of his parents.

Landon had just pushed the front door open when I called out, “I don’t know if I should let you do this.”

He looked over his shoulder, his hand still on the doorknob. “I have to see them.”

“But—” I swallowed. “What happened to them… It’s not something you can unsee, Landon.”

“Why?” His brown eyes searched mine for answers, and what he saw must have scared him, because he closed his eyes and let out another deep breath. “They didn’t just die of the virus, did they?”

“No,” I whispered.

He nodded twice, and when he opened his eyes again, he was already turning toward the door.

He stepped inside without a word and I followed, dread pooling in my stomach as I did.

The living room was much the same as it had been every other time I was here, although a lot more dusty. The couches and chairs, tables, television, and pictures were all untouched. Even though the other rooms weren’t visible, I knew the kitchen, bedrooms, bathrooms, and garage hadn’t been spared. Our group had raided every house in town, one at a time until we’d gathered every item that could possibly be useful. I’d purposefully avoided coming in here, but I’d been out on the street when the other survivors went through it, and knew they hadn’t touched the bodies. I’d specifically asked them not to, even though we’d discussed it before we’d started raiding the houses. As nice as it would be to bury the dead we found, we’d decided we couldn’t spare the energy. Their homes would be their final resting places, and in a way, it felt even more respectful than taking the time to dig a hole.

“They’re upstairs,” I told Landon, keeping my voice low so it didn’t echo in the unnaturally quiet house. “In the bedroom.”

He moved to the bottom of the stairs, but paused before heading up, just like he had out front. This time, his body seemed tense, almost like he was made of stone.

It was only for a moment, though, and then he was moving, the old wooden stairs creaking under his feet and his steps pounding through the empty house.

I stayed close but remained silent. I didn’t want him to be alone, but I also knew he needed to process all this internally before he could talk it out. It was how he’d always been, and as much as the world had changed, I doubted that part of him had.

We reached the second floor and found the door to the master bedroom shut. I’d left it that way the last time I was here, wanting to respect the final resting place of two people I’d known for as long as I could remember. Obviously, whoever raided the house had felt the same.

Landon stopped outside the door, but didn’t look back at me. “How bad is it going to be?”

“Bad,” I said, my voice barely over a whisper.

In the quiet of the house, it sounded abnormally loud when Landon swallowed. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

I counted to myself silently, waiting for him to say something else or move to open the door, but he didn’t. When I reached thirty and Landon still hadn’t said or done anything, I stepped forward and took his hand. His skin against mine after all these years was exhilarating. Familiar and yet so different. It was like coming home to find everything and everyone I’d ever loved waiting for me.

He looked over his shoulder without turning his body, and I gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m here with you.”

“Thank you,” was all he said before pulling his hand from mine and reaching for the doorknob.

The hinges groaned in protest when he pushed the door open, and my body stiffened the way it did when I was bracing myself for an impact. The stench of decay was the first thing I registered. It had eased over the months and compared to the overwhelming stink of the zombies roaming the world, it seemed mild. Almost nonexistent, even.

Once my brain had adjusted to the smell, I found my gaze moving across the room. It was as I’d left it. The queen size bed Landon’s parents had shared sat in the middle of the room, directly in front of the door, and the two figures, which were covered in a crisp white sheet, were still lying side by side on top of the bed. It was the headboard and wall that drew my attention, though. Or, more specifically, the splattering of blood and brain matter.

“Oh, my God,” Landon muttered just before his legs gave out.

He fell to his knees only one step inside the room and I followed him down, landing at his side, my hands on his shoulders, which were already shaking from the power of his sobs.

Landon covered his face with his hands and sobbed into them. “What did he do? What did he do?”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

My vision was cloudy from my own tears, but the sight of the blood—now faded to an earthy brown—seemed to penetrate the haze no matter what I did. Tears carved trails down my cheeks as I cried, my arms wrapped around Landon’s shoulders, his body shaking against mine. His sobs were silent but powerful, and I was struck by the sudden realization that in all the years we’d known one another, I’d never seen Landon cry. He’d gotten teary-eyed when we broke up, but he hadn’t allowed himself to cry—at least not in my presence. Now, though, he was sobbing. It was the only way to describe the violent way his body shook as the tears of agony forced their way out of him.

Fifteen minutes—or more—passed before he was able to calm himself down enough to talk, and when he finally did, he twisted out of my grasp so he was facing me.

“It was my dad, wasn’t it? He shot her and then shot himself.”

“That’s what it looked like,” I said. “He was holding the gun.”

My gaze moved to the bed and a shudder shook my body as I remembered the day I’d discovered them. The bodies hadn’t yet begun to stink, and the blood on the wall still bright red and shimmering in places where it hadn’t yet dried.

“I covered them with the sheet. It was all I could do.”

“Thank you.” He swallowed and looked toward the bed. “Why did he do this?”

“I can’t answer that for sure, Landon, but I’d guess it was because he knew they were both going to die. Maybe he even knew about the zombies at that point and wanted to spare them both the misery. Maybe your mom was suffering and begged him to do it, and once he did, he couldn’t live with himself. We’ll never know for sure, but you and I both know your dad wouldn’t have done something so drastic unless he thought it was necessary.”

“No,” Landon said, “he wasn’t impulsive.”

My hand was still on his arm, and I was very aware of the way his bicep flexed under my fingers every time he moved. I’d never stopped loving Landon, had never seriously dated or cared about anyone else, and having him back was like an answer to a prayer I hadn’t even dared utter to myself. He was the same handsome boy I’d loved for all those years, but he was rugged now, too. The beard made him look more mature, as did his skin, now weathered from hours in the sun and weeks on the road, but no less attractive. If anything, I found this new Landon twice as desirable. Even more than that, there was something about his vulnerability that made me want him the way I’d never wanted him before. I wanted to comfort him with my kisses, to pull him against me and hug him, to take away all his pain.

As if reading my mind, Landon looked up, and his gaze captured mine. His brown eyes swam with hurt and grief, but there was another emotion in them as well, one I was familiar with even after all these years apart.

“April,” he whispered, my name coming out as little more than a sigh, and then he closed the distance between us and captured my lips with his.

Chapter 6

It was like going back in time, the way his mouth moved over mine, the way his hands ran up my spine, his touch as light as a feather and as gentle as a caress. In seconds, I forgot everything horrible that had happened. Forgot about that awful day five years ago when we’d said goodbye for good, forgot about all the death and blood the virus had brought to this world, and the zombies roaming the streets.

There was nothing but Landon and me. Nothing but his hands on my face and his tongue moving over mine, or the soft lips I’d thought I’d never again get to kiss.

And then, as suddenly as it had started, Landon pulled away.

I was out of breath, and so was he, and my mind was spinning from the passion I’d forgotten could exist, making it difficult to think straight, but the regret in his eyes was something I never could have missed.

“What?” I asked, breathless. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t know.”

Landon scooted back, putting distance between us, but didn’t get to his feet. His gaze had moved back to the bed, causing shame to rise up inside me. Still, though, I couldn’t regret the kiss. The timing had been awful, but I’d needed it. Needed to feel this man again and feel the kind of passion he brought to my life, because it was stuff like this that would keep me going no matter what. No matter how bad things got, no matter how dire the circumstances, I could weather them as long as I knew somewhere out there people could still feel alive and loved. Could still hope. Could still have a real future.

“I’m sorry.” Landon broke the silence first, his brown eyes still focused on the bed where his parents’ bodies sat. “I just got carried away.”

“The timing was bad, I get it. I just—” I swallowed. “We can talk about it later.”

“Yeah,” he murmured.

I started to climb to my feet, but hadn’t made it up when Landon said, “I don’t know how I feel.”

I froze, on my knees in front of him, my heart pounding in my chest. “About me, or about your parents?”

“Both.” He looked up at me, his eyes swimming with sadness and confusion. “They wouldn’t have lived, but it still hurts knowing this is how they went out.”

“I can’t imagine,” I said, which wasn’t true. I understood because his parents had been like a second set of parents for me.

“And things between us…” Landon blew out a long breath. “So much has happened, and not just with the apocalypse.” He looked down. “I was engaged.”

A spike of jealousy lodged itself in my stomach, and I had to force myself to say, “Engaged?”

Landon nodded. “It was recent. I proposed to her only a month before things got really bad. I told my mom not to tell anyone back home because I wanted to come here and let people know myself.” He lifted his gaze from the floor and gave me a sad smile. “I was going to tell you in person.”

Landon had dated another women. More than that, he’d loved another woman, had loved her enough to imagine a future with her, to propose to her, to give his heart to her.

It had been stupid for me to imagine that his life over the last five years had been futile and empty as mine, but I couldn’t deny that I had.

“Did she die?” I managed to get out.

“She did.” He looked down at his hands. “She got sick, just like everyone else, and went fast. Only three days between her first symptoms to the night she died. I was with her, at her apartment, and even after she was gone I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I was still there when she came back.”

The pain on his face when he said the last sentence made me want to reach out to him, but with my own pain still fresh, I couldn’t make myself do it. Maybe it was selfish, or maybe it was kinder than trying to pretend I was grieving a woman I would never know and never could have liked.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I said, and once the words were out, I realized they were true.

“Thank you.”

We lapsed into silence and I finally pulled myself to my feet, and Landon followed, but his focus was back on the bed.

“Do you think we can bury them?”

“Maybe…”

I thought about the bodies and how decayed they now were. We could keep them wrapped in the sheets, but even then it wouldn’t be easy or mess-free.

They were Landon’s parents, though, and I understood him wanting to put them to rest. Plus, if I helped him, he could help me with my own family. My parents, grandma, sister and brother, nieces and nephews. Some of them wouldn’t still be in their homes—they were out there somewhere, stumbling through town—but it was possible one or two of them had been put down…

I wanted to cry just thinking about revisiting them, and I had to look away, too ashamed to tell him I wasn’t strong enough to handle it.

“Another day,” he said as if reading my mind. “Or I can get someone else to help me.”

“Yeah,” I said, studying the wood floor beneath my feet.

It was original to the house and had been Landon’s mother’s pride and joy. She’d always made sure it was swept and mopped, and I could remember the way the sun would shine in through the windows, practically reflecting off the smooth surface. Almost like it was a mirror instead of a floor. It was dusty now, scraped in places from the people who’d raided the house, dragging items we could use out.

“We should get back,” I said when neither one of us said anything else.

“Okay.”

I walked out into the hall and Landon followed, pulling the door shut behind him. He stood there for a moment with his head bowed and his eyes closed as if saying a silent prayer, his hand resting against the closed door. His parents had been religious, our families had attended the same church, but I’d never seen Landon pray before now. Maybe he wasn’t praying, though. Maybe he was just telling his parents goodbye.

When he finally turned, his face was oddly serene considering what he’d just been through. “I’m ready.”

I nodded once and turned toward the stairs, pulling my rifle off my shoulder before I’d even taken one step down. The house was as silent as it had been when we arrived, and just like on our way up, our footsteps seemed to pound through the empty space surrounding us.

“I’m going to miss this place,” Landon said.

“You never know, maybe one day things will be something that resembles normal and we can come back here. Live in a house and have jobs and school and a regular life.”

Behind me, Landon snorted. “Five years apart and I can still tell when you’re full of shit.”

I looked back at him, a small smile on my lips even though sadness weighed me down. “A girl can dream, can’t she?”

“Yeah,” he said, returning my smile. “And I guess these days dreams are pretty much all we have.”

“No,” I replied. “We have each other, too. I’m glad you’re back, Landon. Even if we never kiss again. No matter what happens with us, I’m glad to know you survived this thing.”

“Me too,” he said, and this time his smile was bigger. “And I wouldn’t put money on us never kissing again. We may feel like different people now, but there’s one thing that never changed. I never stopped loving you, April.”

My heart swelled and my smiled widened, but the tears of happiness in my eyes blurred his face.

“I never stopped loving you, either.”

Chapter 7

Outside, the spring day was as clear as I’d thought it would be this morning when I stepped out of my RV. Except, thanks to Landon’s presence at my side, it now seemed nearly blinding in its brightness.

The tingle of his lips on mine lingered as we started walking, and his words hung over me like a rainbow after a brutal storm. He never stopped loving me.

What did that mean for the woman he’d promised to marry? I didn’t know, but it also didn’t matter. She was gone, and so was the promise he’d made to her. We not only had a clean slate, but we were facing a future unlike anything we’d ever imagined, one where anything could happen.

Landon and I moved side by side at a steady pace in a silence that, while comfortable, was thick with grief. He needed the quiet to think, so even though I had a million things I wanted to tell him and ask him, I said nothing.

We hadn’t made it far, less than three houses away, when the sound of moans echoed through the air. My rifle was slung over my shoulder, and I pulled it forward on instinct, keeping it up and ready just in case. I had a knife strapped to my hip as well, and it would only take a second to pull it out if I needed it. Hopefully, there were just one or two and we’d be able to take them down silently and easily with our blades.

I slowed, but didn’t stop, and at my side Landon had done the same. Like me, he had a gun out, a pistol, and a knife in his other hand, and he was scanning the area.

“Where are they?”

Another moan broke out, this time followed by a few others, and I turned toward the sound. The dead still hadn’t revealed themselves, and my pulse quickened.

Across the street from us stood neglected home after neglected home, each one more depressing than the last. The overgrown yards seemed ominous at the moment, as if they harbored enough secrets and deadly things to take the rest of humanity out for good, but still there was nothing around. No sign of the dead, and with the way their sounds bounced off the surrounding buildings, it was difficult to pinpoint where they were coming from.

Finally, a zombie stumbled into view, coming from between two houses on the opposite side of the street. His moans had the same unearthly quality that every other zombie possessed, and he was already reaching for us, his fingers grasping at air. I lowered my rifle and reached for my knife, readying myself for the confrontation, but hadn’t even had the chance to pull my weapon from its sheath when two more zombies stumbled into view less than five feet behind the first one. Even worse, they were followed by more.

The dead seemed to pour out of the backyard after that, stumbling and tripping their way across the uneven earth as they headed our way. At my side, Landon swore, and even though I was already stumbling back, he grabbed my arm and pulled me as he, too, moved away from the advancing horde.

“There are too many,” he said.

They’d begun pouring into the street, making it impossible to continue on our current course unless we wanted to fight our way through. I didn’t, though, because even with guns, the two of us against a horde this size were impossible odds. Even knowing the settlement was just around the corner and whoever was on guard would come running to our aide at the first sound of gunfire didn’t make me confident that we could take a group this size. It was too risky, and the best chance we had would be making a run for it.

Only, I didn’t know where. There was only one way back to the settlement, which was part of the reason we’d set up there to begin with, and it was currently cut off. We could go back the way we came, back to Landon’s house maybe, or even one of the other houses on the street, but doing that would effectively trap us if the horde decided to follow. They’d surround the house and we’d be stuck until someone came to our rescue. Who knew how long that would take.

We were trapped. Cut off from the rest of our group unless I could think of a way out of this.

Inspiration hit so suddenly it was like I’d been slapped in the face with it, and I turned on my heel, grabbing Landon as I did, and took off across the street.

“This way.”

He didn’t question me as we ran side by side. Behind us, the dead were still moaning, still advancing, and still stumbling from between the houses. It was like the entire town had gathered for a picnic and decided to use us as the main course.

Across the street, I charged up the driveway of an old two-story home that had probably been built in the early 1900s. Like a lot of the buildings, the winter had left it looking abandoned and neglected, but despite that, there was still something regal about it that the newer homes in town didn’t seem to possess. Like an aging king or a former president on his deathbed.

Landon followed wordlessly, not breaking the silence until we’d reached the backyard. “You have a plan?”

“I do.” I nodded toward the fence that ran between the two yards, marking the property line. “Over.”

“It’s not going to keep a group like that out for long,” he said, eyeing the four-foot high wooden fence.

He was right. The wooden planks had seen better days, and at this point I doubted they were even sturdy enough to keep a small dog in the backyard. Thankfully, I didn’t plan on staying long enough to have that theory tested.

I threw myself over the fence, not even batting an eye at the ungraceful way I plopped to the ground on the other side. Landon was over by the time I pulled myself to my feet, and I gave him a nod to let him know I was okay before heading across the yard.

“We don’t need to keep the zombies out, we just need to make it to the waterfall.”

“Waterfall?” Landon repeated

On the other side of the yard, the fence looked even more dilapidated, making getting over it easier. This time I managed to climb over and stay on my feet instead of wiping out, which I was thankful for. My shoulder throbbed from the first impact, and even though it was only a bruise, I wasn’t interested in falling on it a second time.

Moans and growls bounced off the surrounding houses as the zombies converged on the yard we’d just fled. Like we’d thought, the rickety fence only held them back for a minute or two before giving with a crack that echoed through the air.

“They won’t be able to maneuver the steps leading down to the falls,” I said as we ran side by side, heading for the next yard. “Even more importantly, we’ll be able to climb out on the other side and make it back to the settlement.”

“While possibly leading the entire horde that way,” Landon said.

“We’re fortified. We’ve had hordes show up before and we’ve been fine. This will be no different.”

“If you say so,” he said doubtfully.

I didn’t respond.

We made it through the final yard, which was unfenced, and squeezed our way through an opening between an old iron post and a stone wall. Once there, we found ourselves on the stone path that lead down to the falls. It ran behind what had once been the West Milton Inn, a restaurant that had closed its doors years before and had since sat empty. Wedged between the old building and trees, the path wound its way down, eventually giving way to a staircase that led to the bottom of the small waterfall.

The steps were old, covered in green moss and made of stone with a metal railing on one side, meant to keep you from falling into the water below. They had always seemed treacherous to me, and with the moans pounding against our backs, that feeling only increased.

I lead the way down, holding onto the railing as I did, the metal cold against my palm despite the sunny day. Not that it felt sunny right now. The trees over us were thick with early buds, and blocked out most of the sun’s rays, making everything dark and ominous.

Footsteps pounded against the cement behind us and I turned to face it, my rifle up and ready. The first few zombies came into view, pushing and shoving each other to get at us, while Landon and I continued moving down. We seemed to have lost a lot of the horde somewhere along the way, and less than a dozen had followed us down the stairs. The odds were better, but still not good, and there was no way I could fire a gun. That would only succeed in drawing the attention of every zombie we’d managed to lose.

I slung the rifle over my shoulder and pulled my knife. “We can do this if we work together. They’re going to fall on these steps, and when they’re down and trying to get up, we can take them out.”

“I’ve got your back,” Landon said, momentarily distracting me from the dead.

He used to say that to me all the time. When I had fights with my parents, when I was mad at girlfriends, when I couldn’t decide which college to go to.

“April,” Landon said just before striking, bringing my focus back to the moment.

One of the zombies had stumbled and fallen, taken a few others down with him, and just like I’d predicted, they were having a difficult time getting up. Landon pressed his hand on the back of the zombie on top of the pile, holding him down while he slammed his knife into the creature’s head. I did the same with the zombie trapped in the middle, and I’d just yanked my knife free when Landon slammed his blade into the skull of the third.

“Good,” he said with a gasp, smiling. “I have to say, of all the moments I thought we’d share, I never thought killing zombies would be one.”

“You always did have a very limited imagination.”

Landon let out a chuckle just as another zombie fell over the bodies already littered across the steps and tumbled down. He didn’t have a chance to even try to get up before I’d slammed my knife into his head.

One after another the dead followed this example, falling to the ground where they struggled to get up only to be met with their final deaths. Soon, there were only a few left and they were at the top of the stairs. The bodies had piled up until they found maneuvering the steps impossible. They’d get by some only to get tangled in the limbs of others, making getting to us impossible.

The bad news: we were also cornered.

“What now?” Landon asked.

I looked to my side, to the stone wall that ran up the hill. It was covered in ivy, but we could still climb it. Once we did, we would be home free. The settlement was right across the street.

“Up,” I said, shoving my knife into its sheath so I could climb.

Chapter 8

I was panting by the time I made it up the hill. My nails were caked in dirt and my clothes were just as bad, but we’d made it and were almost home free now.

The road was in front of us, so close the relief was already settling over me. All we had to do was pull ourselves up and cross the street and we’d be home, and if any of the zombies decided to continue down the street, our people on guard duty would be there to help.

I had just pulled myself up the hill but froze when the roar of car engines broke through the silence. It seemed like such a foreign sound after all these months. Yes, we had a few vehicles we took out on runs, but only one at a time, never in a group like this. It would be a waste of resources—gas was already getting scarce—and would draw too much attention.

Just as the first vehicle came into view, Landon grabbed my arm and pulled me down, and together we huddled behind a few bushes. We were out of sight but still able to get a glimpse of the street, and we watched in silence as another car appeared, followed closely by two more.

There were four vehicles in all. Two trucks, both of which had metal plates welded to the sides and large guns mounted in the back, and two smaller cars that were equally decked out. They looked threatening even before I got a glimpse of the men, but when a broad man with a bull of a face stepped out of the first car, all it took was one look at his sneer to know these people were not here to make friends.

More men climbed out, each one as imposing as the last. They were a diverse group, all ages and sizes, but also one in the same thanks to their hard expressions and the tense way they carried themselves. They were also all loaded down with weapons. Automatic guns, pistols strapped to waists, knives secured to legs.

“Have you seen these guys before?” Landon asked in a low voice.

“No.”

I lifted myself up a little, trying to get a better look at the men, but Landon pulled me down.

“Stay out of sight.”

“I am,” I hissed, my focus still on the men.

They were at the gate now, talking to our people. I couldn’t hear what was being said but it wasn’t necessary to know we were witnessing a standoff. Whoever these men were, they wanted inside.

Our guards had their weapons up as well, but they were outnumbered and vulnerable and everyone knew it. Still, they didn’t lower their weapons, and the more time that passed, the harder my heart pounded. There were five people on duty just like there had been when Landon and I left the settlement a short time ago, with Devon at the back of the group. He was as tense as he’d been the day we went to Tipp City to loot the RVs, only the stakes were much higher now. Then we’d been worried about running into a big group of the dead, but now we had to worry about losing everything we’d built. Eight months we’d labored to set this place up, and it was safe, it was working, but these assholes were threating to take everything from us.

No way.

“We have to do something,” I hissed.

“We’re a little outnumbered,” Landon said.

He was right, but that didn’t stop me from shaking my head and saying, “I won’t just let them take my home.”

“You don’t even know that’s what’s happening,” he pointed out, but like me, I could tell he knew these men were trouble. “We can’t hear anything.”

We remained silent, watching from our hiding spot as the standoff continued. The first man who’d stepped out of the car—the leader, I assumed—waved to someone behind him, and another man pulled himself from the crowd. My back straightened at the sight of him and I curled my hands into fists. No. It couldn’t be. I squinted as if that would make his face change, but it didn’t. Had he come here to get revenge? Had he brought these men to our settlement?

“What is it?” Landon asked. “Do you know him?”

“Max. He used to be with us,” I whispered, watching as he approached our guards. “We kicked him out last fall.”

“Why? What did he do? Is he dangerous?”

“I didn’t think so,” I said. “At least not to us. He was hitting his wife and everyone knew it. We live in such close quarters now that we could hear them fighting at night. The council and I approached him, and her, and tried to work it out. He told us to mind our own business and she didn’t want our help. We couldn’t just let them stay, though. It was making everyone uncomfortable.” I swallowed, thinking about the day we’d escorted them out the gate, leaving them to find their own way or die. “We banished them. I didn’t actually think they’d survive the winter.”

“Well, they did, or at least he did, and it looks like he found himself a new group, too.”

A shudder shook my body when I thought about the kind of people who would welcome a wife beater into their group. No one good, that was for sure.

Just as I was thinking that, a crack echoed through the air. I jerked at the sound, and when Bill dropped to the ground, I had to shove my clenched fist in my mouth to stifle a scream.

Landon put his arm around me. “It’s okay.”

“No.” I sucked in a few mouthfuls of air, trying to stay calm. “They just shot Bill. They shot him, Landon!”

“And they’ll shoot more people if your friends don’t open those gates.”

He was right. We had to open them.

I started to stand, but Landon held me back. “No, April.”

“I have to go out there. I have to tell Devon and the others to open the gate. To let them in before more people get killed.”

“You need to stay here and watch. Right now, you and I are the only hope your people have of defeating these guys.”

I looked at him with wide, terrified eyes, tears brimming in them as I thought about Bill’s body lying on the ground, slowly turning cold, and found myself wondering who would be next.

“What can we do?”

“I don’t know.” Landon gave me a squeeze. “But I know we have the element of surprise right now, and we don’t want to give that up.”

We stayed huddled together behind the bushes, watching the scene play out. It didn’t take long for tensions to rise, and as the seconds slipped away, the voices grew louder, making it possible to catch a few words here and there.

“You want everyone you love to die?” the man in charge said, his voice coming out like a growl.

Devon and Trish stood in front of him, looking as unyielding as a brick wall. Next to them stood Matt, and I saw his mouth move, but I only managed to catch a few words.

“…won’t give up…our home…leave…”

My own body tensed, because even without hearing the entire sentence, I knew Matt had told the man in front of him that he wasn’t giving up without a fight, and I also knew what that would mean.

The leader’s mouth scrunched up, forming a sneer that I could make out clearly even from all the way across the road, and it turned my blood cold. A second later another gunshot rang through the air, only this time, Devon’s body dropped to the ground.

“No!”

The strangled cry that came out of my mouth was muffled by Landon’s chest when he pulled me against him. Tears filled my eyes, and my shoulders shook as painful sobs broke out of me. Not Devon. They couldn’t have shot Devon.

“Shhh,” Landon murmured in my ear. “Stay calm. Stay in control.”

This man had been my rock for years when we were children, and later on when we were dating, but I still didn’t know how he was able to maintain control in the face of something so horrible. Even if he hadn’t known Devon and Bill personally, we’d just watched two men get killed, and it seemed to have fazed Landon very little.

I untangled myself from his grasp and looked up at him. “How can you be so calm?”

“I have to be.” His hands were still on my shoulders, and when he looked down, it seemed as if his brown eyes had aged ten years in the last few seconds. “If you lose control, you die. That’s something I’ve witnessed firsthand. I’m not going to let it happen to me, and I sure as hell won’t let it happen to you. ”

I wanted to ask what he meant, to hear everything he’d been through over the last eight months so I could understand the man in front of me. He was a person I’d known so well in the before, but now, we were more like strangers.

A shout echoed through the air and we both turned to face the road just as the gate swung open. The three people from my group had their arms up, and a few men from the new group held them at gunpoint while the others returned to their cars. In seconds, the vehicles had driven through the open gate, and the raiders followed wearing satisfied sneers, forcing my people inside under threat of death. Three men stayed behind to stand guard, and the sight of their automatic weapons turned my blood to ice.

We didn’t have any guns like that. We had rifles and handguns, things the average person used for hunting or target practice. Hell, we’d even raided the local police station, and while we’d gotten some useful things, this was a small town. They didn’t have automatic weapons. The guns this group had looked like something you saw soldiers on TV toting around, and I instinctively knew that unless we could figure out a way to outsmart these men, we would be no match for them.

“We need to get someplace safe for the time being,” Landon murmured. “After that, I don’t know what. Come up with a plan.”

I tore my gaze from the gate and focused on him. “I don’t know how much help we’re going to be considering there are only two of us, but we have weapons hidden out here. In case of an emergency.”

Landon’s eyes light up. “Where?”

“In the old optometrist’s building.”

“Next to Fox’s Pizza,” Landon murmured.

“Yeah.”

When he rubbed his chin, the scratchy fibers of his beard scratched against his palm. “That’s something at least.”

“Will it do us any good?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure something out.”

The confidence in his tone gave me hope, even if it was only a sliver.

Chapter 9

We moved back down the hill a little so we were lower and less likely to be seen by the raiders, and I found myself feeling like I was hanging off the side of a mountain. Below us, the zombies still standing groaned and moaned, their cries growing louder the longer we stayed where we were, while above us and across the street, the men who’d killed two of my friends stood guard. I was trapped, like a fly in a spider web, and I didn’t like it. I itched to run for safety, but I wasn’t sure where that might be.

“What are you thinking?” I asked, keeping my voice low so I didn’t rile the dead up even more.

“We need to get to those weapons, but I want to wait until dark. We’re too out in the open right now. It’s too risky.” Landon looked down, his gaze moving over the dead. “And we need to get out of here before they draw the attention of those assholes.”

He looked to our right, over to where the old West Milton Inn loomed. It had been a grand building at one time, big and white, and even though it hadn’t been open in more than a dozen years, the owners had kept it maintained. The windows had been boarded up before the virus, probably to keep them from breaking and to discourage vandals, but the exterior had been maintained.

Now, though, it looked like every other place in town. Dead branches and leaves from fall littered the porch and former parking lot, and the yard was overgrown with weeds. It, like the rest of the neglected buildings, looked on its way to giving up. It was sad after all these years, but inevitable.

“You think we can get in there?” Landon asked, nodding to the building.

“It didn’t get looted like every other place, so it won’t be easy or fast, but I don’t see why not. Since it had been empty for years, we avoided it when we first started searching houses.”

“That means it will be secure at least,” Landon said, then nodded as he started moving to the right, climbing his way along the side of the hill. “Be careful.”

I looked down again and shuddered when my gaze met that of a decaying man with only a few stringy gray hairs on his torn scalp. His milky eyes widened at the attention, and he reached up, clawing at the hill even though there was a good five feet of space between us.

I tore my gaze from the dead man and followed Landon, clinging to the weeds and dirt as I moved toward the house. Below us, the dead tried to follow our progress, but they were uncoordinated and not paying attention, and with every step more of them seemed to trip and fall. Over each other, over the steps, over the bodies littering the stairs, and even over their own feet. Even though eventually a few of them would get it together enough to make it up the stairs, it would give us time to get over to the building, and if we were lucky, we’d make it inside before any of the dead managed to claw their way to us.

Rock and bits of dirt, even a few weeds, fell as we moved, dropping onto the heads of the zombies trying to get at us. I did my best to focus on where I was going, though, avoiding looking down, and having Landon in front of me helped.

We made it to the top of the staircase and he dropped down, and the sound of his feet hitting the cement seemed loud even surrounded by the moaning of the dead. They were still scrambling, and a few had even made it to their feet, but the need to sink their teeth into us made it impossible for them to concentrate on their surroundings, and they were still falling over each other.

“Come on,” Landon urged, waving for me to come down.

I did as I was told, dropping beside him with a thud that vibrated through my body, and the second I was down, he had a hold of my hand and was pulling on me. Urging me to move as he climbed the stairs and left the dead behind.

Their moans faded as we made it around the curve, but we both knew it was temporary. We’d come up behind the old building and in front of us was an overhang where a car could drive up, and beneath it a door that hopefully led to safety, assuming we could get it open fast enough. We needed to get in, but we didn’t want to damage the door so much that we couldn’t get it closed. Normally, we’d break a window and try to unlatch the door that way, but since all the windows were covered, that was impossible. Which meant trying to pry the door open.

“Stand back,” Landon said, releasing my hand.

I did as I was told, holding my breath as I looked back and forth between him and the walkway at our backs. I could still hear the dead, but they weren’t in sight. Yet. They would be, though. It was only a matter of time.

Landon backed up enough to give him space, and then lifted his leg so he could slam the heel of his boot against the door. It hit right next to the doorknob, and there was a crack, like wood splitting, but it didn’t budge. So Landon did it again, grunting with the impact, and then a third time, and finally the door burst open in a splintering of wood.

“In,” was all he said when he grabbed my arm and pushed me forward.

I stumbled a few steps before regaining my momentum, and just before I stepped through the now open door, I looked back and saw the first few zombies stumble into view.

Landon was two steps behind me, and the second he was inside he slammed the door, plunging us into dusty darkness, and leaned against it, putting all of his two hundred pound body into keeping it shut.

“We need something to put in front of it.”

“I’m on it,” I said.

The wood covering the windows succeeded in blocking out every sliver of light, but thankfully I had my backpack and my emergency flashlight with me. Only my hands were shaking and I had a difficult time getting my bag open, and by the time I did the thudding of my heart made it impossible to know if the dead were banging on the door or if it was just the blood pounding in my ears. Either way, it didn’t matter. We needed something to wedge against the door. And now.

I flicked the flashlight on and panned it around, praying the owners had used this building to store something. Old furniture they’d inherited from a dead relative would be especially helpful right now. Dark figures loomed in the shadows to my right, and I swung my flashlight toward them to find piles of boxes. I blinked, unsure of what I was seeing, and then focused enough to realize they had names of long-gone food companies on them. That was when I remembered that the people who’d owned this building had also owned the small grocery store on the other side of town.

“Here,” I said as I dashed for the boxes.

I had to set my flashlight down on one pile to free up my hands, and when I did, I grabbed the nearest box. It was heavy, filled with canned goods probably, and I groaned under the weight as I hurried to where Landon stood waiting.

“Is that food?” he asked in disbelief.

I set the box down with a loud huff. “Yeah. I guess we were idiots for not searching this building. I’d forgotten the owners of B&B also owned this place.”

I’d already turned and was headed back to get another box when Landon said, “When did that happen?”

“I don’t know.” I lugged another box up. “While you were gone.”

When I’d set the second box down, Landon nodded to the door. “You stay here and lean against it. I can move the boxes faster.”

I’d argue, but he was right. The boxes were heavy and he could carry more than twice what I could.

I leaned on the door, putting my back against it and pressing my heels into the ground. Before I’d been unsure if the thudding in my ears was the dead trying to get in or my pounding heart, but now that I’d calmed a little, I knew it had been the first one. Maybe the zombies hadn’t seen where we went. Maybe they were out there stumbling around, trying to find us. Maybe they’d wander off and we’d have a clear shot to the optometrist once the sun went down.

Landon brought two boxes back on his first trip, and another two after that. Once we had a good pile, I joined him in lugging the boxes across the dark room, marveling at how much was stored here. Not only were there canned goods, but there were also boxes filled with snack food, too, the kind that lasted for years. Chips, snack cakes, nuts, beef jerky, and dozens of other things. When I lifted a box that surprised me with how light it was, I looked down to find the image of a familiar yellow, spongy snack cake on the side and laughed out loud.

“What?” Landon set the two boxes he was carrying down and turned to face me, huffing from the exertion of moving the boxes.

“Tallahassee would be thrilled if he was here.” I lifted the box so he could see it.

Landon grinned. “I think of Zombieland every time I come across a Twinkie.”

I set the box I was carrying on top of the others and stepped back. We’d moved two whole piles and there was enough in front of the door now that we would most likely be okay, or at least have plenty of time to retreat into another part of the building before the dead broke in.

Now that we were finished, I took another good look around the room. “It’s strange that there’s so much food here. I mean, when things got bad and travel was cut off, the shelves in most stores were practically bare.”

“Maybe they stashed it here for themselves when they realized the end was coming,” Landon said. “So they had food in case they survived the virus.”

“Maybe,” I said as I panned my flashlight around.

It was a good theory. Nearly all the boxes contained non-perishable food items, and a lot of it was canned.

I paused when the beam of my flashlight illuminated a stack of boxes at the back of the room, smiling to myself.

“Take a look at that.”

Landon followed my gaze, grinning when he saw what I was referring to. “I guess they wanted to make sure they were very prepared for the end of the world.”

“I understand.”

I headed over with Landon following behind, and inspected the boxes of beer and wine. There had to be nearly a dozen cases back here, and it wasn’t the cheap stuff, either.

“Huh,” Landon said as he ripped a box open and pulled one of the bottles out. “This stuff is hard to find.”

“They’d started carrying a pretty good selection of craft beer,” I replied. “I’m not a beer drinker, but Michael loved going in there.”

My brother’s name almost stuck in my throat and I had to close my eyes. I hadn’t spoken about my family in so long, mainly because I lived with a group of people who hadn’t know any of them, and Landon’s sudden reappearance had brought all kinds of memories and feelings to the surface.

He put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, April.”

“So am I.” I let out a deep breath and opened my eyes.

I turned to face him and our eyes met, and it was like being transported to the past. To a time before a virus had destroyed the world, back when the idea of the dead coming back was as preposterous as an alien invasion. Back to a time when I thought this man and I would be together forever.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I said.

Landon gave me a sad smile. “So am I.”

Like dozens of other times since his return a short time ago, he captured me with his gaze. Now that we were momentarily out of danger, I couldn’t help thinking about that kiss again, and about Landon’s promise that there would be more.

My gaze moved to his lips, and I knew he noticed because he sucked in a deep breath. The timing was wrong, bad, but then again, we didn’t have anything else to do right now.

Chapter 10

The moment was shattered by a sudden popping sound. It was distant, but after eight months of the apocalypse, I was more than familiar with the sound of gunfire.

Pop, pop. Pop, pop, pop.

It went on for a good five minutes, and then as abruptly as it started, it stopped, leaving Landon and me standing in silence.

“Sounds like we lost the zombies,” he said. “They must have wandered around the house and back to the main road.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Good thing they’re stupid.”

He nodded, but his mouth turned down in one corner, forming a frown that was not only familiar, but one that had my heart twisting from memories of the last time we’d talked. The day we ended things. The day of our biggest fight ever. The day my heart broke.

“They’re not all dumb,” he said after a pause. “There were times on the road when I came across some that seemed to almost be able to reason.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe it had happened or like he was trying to push the memory away. “It didn’t make sense, but it was the only explanation.”

“Were you on the road this whole time?” I asked.

Landon didn’t turn to face me, but he did twist his head in my direction so he could look at me. “Yeah.”

“Eight months is a long time…” I let the sentence die off, not sure what to say. I couldn’t imagine being out there for that long. Not having security. It made what I’d been through seem easy.

“It was—” He exhaled. “I just wanted to get back home. It was all I could focus on, every day. I just thought about being home and it kept me going.”

“Were you alone that whole time?”

Again, Landon let out a breath, this time it was longer. He turned away, not answering, but instead focused on the boxes of food.

“We should get something to eat. Rest in case we have to be up all night.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

Heat crept up my face at the feeling that I’d overstepped some invisible line. This was something I wasn’t used to, feeling like a stranger in this man’s presence, but I did. I seemed like there was a world separating us now, one that I couldn’t breach. Couldn’t understand. Would never be able to.

We dug through boxes until we found a jar of peanut butter and took turns dipping crackers into them. The salty, buttery taste mingled with the sugary sweetness of the peanut butter transported me back to an earlier time. To individually packaged crackers in my lunch box, and sitting side by side with Landon at lunch, sharing them as we both pretended we weren’t watching the other. I did the same thing now, dipping my cracker in, watching him out of the corner of my eye as I chewed, memorizing the way the shadows contoured his face. He looked so much older and yet so much like that little boy I’d shared crackers with all those years ago, and the two images didn’t seem to fit together in my mind. Again, it made me feel like I was separated from him forever.

“I traveled with other people a lot,” Landon said out of nowhere.

His mouth was full of crackers and it muffled his words, making me have to lean closer so I could hear him. In the shadowy darkness of the room, it seemed like his body heat was the only thing keeping me warm, and moving nearer intensified that feeling. It also brought other feelings back. Feelings I never thought I’d get to experience again.

“It wasn’t always the same people,” he continued, his voice still quiet but no longer muffled. “I’d join up with people and we’d travel together for awhile before reaching a point where we were forced to part ways. In the beginning, before the zombies when travel was closely monitored, it was hard getting anywhere. Gas was scarce and resources even more so, and there were checkpoints along the way. Traveling with other people and splitting what few resources we had made it easier. Slowly, though, everything started to disappear, and then there was nothing for a long time.

“I didn’t get far before the dead showed up, only to Arizona, and once they did it changed everything.” He shook his head at the memory. “We were so taken off guard by it.”

“Everyone was,” I murmured. “It still shocks me.”

“Yeah.” Landon exhaled and leaned his head back so it was resting against the box. “After that, travel was dicey. Gas was nearly impossible to come by and trusting people was hard. Twice other groups held us up at gunpoint and stole everything we had. The first time it happened my group got through it. We made it to a nearby town and searched houses until we found more weapons and more food, and then we kept going. Mostly on foot. The second time, the group just fell apart.

“The last group I was with was months ago. December, I think. I was down south, but it had gotten cold and the dead were slower. I thought for sure it would help me get here faster, even if I hit snow once I got further north, but it just meant there were more people on the road. More hungry, desperate people who were willing to do anything if it meant surviving.” Landon closed his eyes. “After that, I decided traveling alone was best.”

He lapsed into silence and I waited for him to say more, to tell me what had happened to the group, but he didn’t. Instead, he sat next to me with his eyes closed and his hands clenched into fists, and I found myself mesmerized by the person he’d transformed into. He was more than a stranger now, because the expression on his face was something I’d never seen on anyone before. It was full of pain and regret, but rage and hate as well. It was soft and hard at the same time, dark but with a tinge of vulnerability. It was the expression of a man who would do anything to make sure he never again had to witness whatever had happened to him on the road.

Without thinking, I found myself moving closer to him. Before he’d even had a chance to lift his head and open his eyes I was on my knees, and when he did, we were so close that his breath brushed against my lips. My hands were on his arms, moving up slowly, while his gaze held mine, and then I was leaning forward, closing the distance between us as my heart pounded in my chest, thudding out a beat that was like a word being whispered over and over again.

Lan-don, Lan-don, Lan-don…

“April,” he murmured, my name barely above a whisper. “April.”

Then my mouth was on his and he had his arms around me, pulling me closer. I was on his lap, straddling him as our lips moved together, my hands on his cheeks, the coarse bristles of his beard tickling my palms while scratching at my face. His kisses were hard and desperate, needy and punishing. It was like no time had passed at all, but at the same time like we were two different people living a different life in a different world. Like we’d never been apart yet had also never been together before now.

I was on my back in moments, Landon on top of me, his body resting between my legs. My lips ached already from the power of his kisses, and heat radiated through me. It was like my blood was on fire, like I was on fire, but the feeling was more welcome than anything I’d ever experienced. Five years I’d gone without this man’s kisses, without his caresses, and it had been torture.

He tore his lips from mine and kissed his way down my neck while his hands moved up my body, over my stomach to my chest.

“Thinking about you kept me going,” he murmured against my skin.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” I said, tears stinging at my eyes.

Landon paused, his chin resting at the V of my neckline, barely above my breasts, and looked up at me. “I told myself that no matter what happened, it would all be worth it as long as I could make it back here.”

“Landon,” I whispered as tears filled my eyes. “I’ve never stopped loving you. Never.”

He closed his eyes and leaned into my hand when I rested it on his cheek. “I never stopped loving you, either.”

I thought about the woman he’d been engaged to, about the promise he’d made to her. Had he lied to her, or was he lying to me? Or, was it possible he’d loved her enough to convince himself he could be happy even though he’d never stopped loving me? I didn’t know, and in this moment, knowing what we faced, I decided I didn’t care.

I urged him to move up until his lips were once again on mine. Our bodies were tangled together on the floor, our mouth moving together and our tongues exploring each other while we worked to remove our clothes. It was effortless, like a dance routine we’d memorized years ago and had never forgotten. We broke the kiss long enough to pull my shirt over my head, and then we were back to it, not even missing a beat. My mouth stayed on his while I wiggled out of my pants, his tongue traced my bottom lip as I undid his. We moved to the side, twisted our bodies while kissing, and in no time at all we were both naked.

He slid inside me, and I gasped at the exquisite familiarity.

“God,” he whispered in my ear. “You’re all I’ve dreamed about for the last eight months.”

“You’re all I’ve ever dreamed about,” I murmured in reply.

We moved together, two people who had always been one even if we hadn’t wanted to accept it. I’d never been so whole, never so complete and hopeful for the future. I had Landon again, finally, and no matter what happened, I swore to myself that this time I wouldn’t let him go.

Chapter 11

“Do you think we have a chance in hell of beating those men?” My head was resting against Landon’s bare chest, and his whole body moved when he shrugged.

“I think it’s possible, but it’s not going to be easy.”

“What choice do we have?” I said. “We can’t just run off.”

Landon said nothing, and I shifted so I could look up at him.

“You don’t think we should just abandon them, do you?”

He exhaled, stretching it out like he was buying time before he spoke. “I’m not the type of person to run away, which is why I chose to travel alone after the last group, but I’m not going to lie. I can’t stomach the idea of losing you again, April. Not after coming so far to find you.”

“I can’t leave them,” I said. “They’re like family to me now. We’ve been together for eight months. We’ve helped each other, cried together, built something good. If I turn my back on them, I’m no better than the men who killed Devon and Bill.”

“I know,” Landon said.

I waited for him to say more, to tell me it was going to be okay, that he had my back, but instead he closed his eyes and said, “They all died.”

“What?” My throat had tightened, making it hard to swallow, and the word came out strangled.

“The last group I was with, they all died,” Landon said, his eyes still closed. “We were camped out in a mall in Missouri and another group attacked us. There were more than were twenty of us, but they caught us off guard and were heavily armed. I knew right away things were going to get bad. Out on the road, I learned fast to look out for the groups that were all men.” He swallowed. “They tied us up, took the women away one by one. Their screams echoed through the mall. I can still hear them. That was nothing compared to what they did to the kids…”

“Oh my God.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I knew they weren’t going to keep us alive long.” He let out a bitter laugh. “They only let the men live as long as they did because they knew the screams would torture us.”

I moved so I was sitting, wanting to hug him or hold him, but when I touched his arm, he jerked like he’d been burned.

“How did you get away?”

“A couple of us got loose in the middle of the night. By then, I was seeing red. All I could think about was slitting the throats of every last one of those assholes. We freed a few more people before one of the men woke up. That’s when all hell broke loose. They just opened fire. They didn’t care who they killed. The world was red as one by one my people went down, and when a bullet grazed me, I thought I was a goner, too.” Landon’s eyes were still closed when he ran his hand over a scar on his side. “It was minor, but I went down just like the others, and somehow in the middle of the chaos, the body of one of my people fell on me. Juan. He was a nice guy. Brave. Braver than me.

“I stayed there, didn’t move a muscle until it was all over. I felt like a coward, but at the point there was nothing I could do. Everyone was pretty much gone at the point, anyway. So I stayed there with Juan’s body on top of me and waited until the gunfire stopped. Waited for the assholes who’d killed my people to gather their things. Waited until it grew so quiet it felt like I was the only living thing in the world. Then I left.”

He stopped talking, and the silence that followed felt more apocalyptic than the damn virus had. I didn’t know what to say or what to do, I only knew that he was hurting and taking that pain from him was impossible. He would live with it for the rest of his life. Survivors’ guilt. I’d seen it before in the eyes of people who’d watched their families die, either from the virus or from the dead. It was something that could destroy you if you let it.

“Landon,” I said after a moment. “Open your eyes.”

He did, and I wanted to weep at the pain in them.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You chose to live.”

“I chose to hide like a coward.”

“What if you had gotten up and fought back? Would any of your people be alive right now?”

“No,” he said, spitting the word out like it was poison.

“No, they wouldn’t, and you’d be dead.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier to sleep at night, April. Believe me.”

“I understand, I do, but you weren’t wrong for wanting to live. You didn’t pull the trigger. You didn’t hurt those people. All you did was survive.”

“And it will haunt me for the rest of my life.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I pulled him against me, wrapping my arms around him. Landon’s body stiffened at first, almost like he didn’t think he deserved the comfort, but after a second he relaxed and hugged me back. He pressed his face into the crook of my neck and inhaled, like the very idea of being near me gave him strength. I understood. Despite the uncertainty we were facing, I hadn’t been this whole in five years.

“I wish I’d gone with you,” I said.

“I wish I’d stayed.”

WHEN THE SUN HAD SET, WE MOVED THE boxes back just enough to get the door open. Cool air rushed in, filling the stuffy room, and I sucked in a deep breath. Until now I hadn’t realized how musty the room was, or how warm it had gotten, and the fresh air was invigorating.

I stood behind Landon, weapons out and ready, as he stuck his head outside. I knew the coast was clear both by the utter silence of the night and because the air was fresh, with not even a twinge of death, but I waited for him to be sure anyway. It only took a minute, and then he was nodding and pushing his way through the small opening so he could step outside.

I followed, giving the boxes of food only a quick glance before leaving them behind. If all went well we could come back and get them in a few days, after the assholes who’d taken over our camp were dead.

We went around the side of the building, keeping to the right for a while before crossing the street, hoping to stay out of sight. The road leading to our camp was down the street and to the left, but we had no way of knowing how many people were on watch and how spread out they were. If they were patrolling the roads, they could spot us.

When we reached a few overgrown bushes, Landon knelt down, motioning for me to do the same.

“We’re going to head back a little, away from the main road, so we can approach the optometrist’s office from the back.”

“Good idea.” I looked over the bush in the direction of the McDonald’s. The gate leading to our settlement was visible from that parking lot, and as much as I wanted to be able to get a glimpse of what was happening, it was too risky to head there now.

Landon led the way, heading between the houses until we’d reached a different road. From there he paused again, taking a moment to look around. Once we were certain the coast was clear, we got moving, jogging at a steady pace down the street, not pausing again until we reached the next intersection. Here we had to cross over the west side of 571, but we were far enough away from our settlement that no one would be able to spot us. It was one good thing about no electricity. The world before the virus had never seemed dark, but now it was blacker than the pits of hell, making it easy to slip through the night unnoticed when necessary.

We moved across the street side by side, then jogged the next few blocks until we reached the post office. The road next to it led to the parking lot behind not only the optometrist’s office, but also the pizza place and a few other small businesses. I’d parked here dozens of times over the years, and there were still cars parked there now. They were empty of gas thanks to my group, and a few had even been relieved of their tires or other random parts from their engines, and in the darkness of the night, they seemed like metallic skeletons of the old world.

There was a back entrance to the office, which my group had padlocked months ago. At the time we’d entered through the front and then secured the place, hiding weapons in the office where few people would think to look before adding a combination lock to the back door. Every trusted member of my group had been given the combination just in case.

“Hold this,” I said when we stopped in front of the door.

Landon took the flashlight when I thrust it at him, holding it up so the beam was focused on the lock. I took a look around to make sure no one or nothing was nearby, then got busy turning the dial. My heart was pounding and my hands shaking, but it only took one try to get the thing open.

The second I had it undone, I ripped it free and jerked the door open.

“You first,” Landon said.

Instead of arguing with his sexiest logic—something that would waste valuable time—I chose to rush inside. He was right behind me, and the second the door was shut, I was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

“The door should lock from this side,” I said.

“Good.” Landon moved the flashlight’s beam around until he found the interior lock, and flicked it, then turned to face me. “Now where are those weapons?”

I led him to a cramped room that was lined with filing cabinets. We’d emptied the drawers and shelved the now useless files so no one would notice if they did come here, then refilled the drawers with supplies. They were locked, but we’d hidden the key under the rug and even in the semi-darkness it only took a minute to locate it.

“Here we go,” I said once I had the filing cabinet undone.

I pulled the drawer open, revealing the half dozen guns and boxes of ammo. In addition to that, there was an impressive supply of knives.

“Nice,” Landon said.

“Even better.” I knelt and unlocked the bottom drawer, pulling it open to reveal the two Kevlar vests we’d liberated from the police station.

“Perfect,” he said in appreciation. “This is a good start. And it will give us a fighting chance.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

He looked my way, his gaze capturing mine. “I do, and you know why.”

“Why?”

“Because I refuse to lose you again.”

I swallowed, but couldn’t voice how I felt.

Instead, I said, “What do we do next? We need to stake the place out, but do we wait until morning or try to get a look at what they’re doing now while it’s still dark?”

“I think it would be better to do it now,” Landon said.

“I agree,” I replied even as I started to sweat.

I pulled the vests from the drawer while Landon gathered the weapons, and we laid our supplies out side by side on a nearby table.

“If we can get weapons into the hands of a few of your people, it will be a big help,” he said. “If not, at least we have plenty of fire power.”

“And the element of surprise,” I added.

“Exactly.” He turned to face me. “If things go bad out there, I want you to run. Understand?”

“Landon, if you think I would leave you behind, you’re crazy.”

“April,” he said firmly, “I’m serious. I’ll be too distracted to take care of myself if I know you’re in trouble. Understand?”

“And what about me? You think I’ll be able to just run off and leave you in trouble? What if you die? How do you think I’d be able to live with myself?”

Tears had filled my eyes and were now streaming down my cheeks. I hated it because I rarely cried, but at that moment I couldn’t control them. It was like we were breaking up all over again, and that was something I’d never gotten over.

“Okay,” Landon said as he pulled me against him. “Okay, April. Okay.”

He wrapped his arms around me while I sobbed, my shoulders shaking, and pressed my face against his chest.

“Don’t leave me again,” I said.

“I won’t.” Landon pulled back so he could look me in the eye. “I swear it.”

Then he kissed me. His lips slammed into mine so hard it should have hurt, but instead the urgency of the kiss was like balm on a wound. It was like slipping into a warm bed after a long day. It was like coming home.

Chapter 12

Outside the spring air was chilly, and within five seconds goose bumps had popped up on every inch of my skin. When we’d left the settlement this afternoon, the sun had been out and warm, and the day promising with its brightness, but now my jacket was too thin and even the thick, Kevlar vest I wore didn’t help keep me warm.

To make matters worse, my backpack was heavy, weighed down by the many guns we’d liberated from the file cabinet. I only hoped I would be able to find a way to get them to my people.

I followed Landon across the dark and empty parking lot behind the little strip of buildings we’d just vacated, heading for the street. The night quiet reminded of old western movies where the bad guys rode into town only to find that everyone had hidden in anticipation of their arrival, and the fact that we were on our way to a possible shootout intensified it.

Thankfully, the moon was bright, giving us enough light to make it possible to move without using the flashlight. I’d worry it would also give us away, except anyone who saw a figure moving through the darkness these days would most likely assume it was one of the dead. Hopefully, the men who raided our settlement felt secure enough behind our walls that they didn’t send someone up to take us out if they did spot us.

“Keep close,” Landon hissed over his shoulder only a moment before turning the corner and heading down the street.

The road in front of us crossed State Route 48, the main road that cut through town, before moving past more stores and ending at the wall we’d built to keep the zombies—and scum—out of our settlement. It was illuminated by the moonlight and looming in front of us. It consisted mainly of dumpsters, which we had moved at great pains, but there was also a hefty truck with rusted out sides and flat, rotting tires, and two other smaller vehicles. The dumpsters were tall and solid, and flush against one another, making getting even a little peek into the settlement impossible, but the cars were lower, and the truck even better. We’d shoved some old crates and things underneath to fill the gaps and keep the dead out, but it was nothing Landon and I couldn’t work around. It would be our ticket to getting a look at what was happening down there.

We paused at the edge of the next set of buildings, beside the old five and dime store that had still been in business up until the day civilization disappeared. Yes, things in Wertz’s had cost more than they used to, but it had still been a go-to store in West Milton for a lot of locals.

Now, sitting in the shadow of the old building, I had to force myself to think about what we were facing and not what we’d lost. It was hard, especially with Landon at my side and the ruins of our hometown surrounding us, but the lives of everyone I now called family were on the line.

“There.” I pointed to the truck. “We can get under it and move some things around.”

“Looks good,” Landon replied, keeping his voice low.

He didn’t move, but instead took a moment to scan the area and listen. Like before, the night seemed terrifyingly quiet.

At first when the world disappeared, the loss of sound had shocked me. The rumble of motors in the distance had vanished, and the roar of a plane flying over or the noise of music in the distance no longer broke up the quiet of nature. Slowly, however, I’d gotten used to the silence, and in our settlement, it had almost seemed peaceful at times.

Outside had been another thing altogether. In town when we were scavenging or hunting, the quiet had always seemed like those few tense moments in a horror movie before the killer jumped out. The quiet was only a façade and that somewhere, maybe only one street away, the dead lurked. Waiting. Or worse, there were people just around the corner, the kind of people you wanted to avoid at all costs. The kind that had currently taken over my home.

“Ready for this?” Landon asked, breaking the silence surrounding us and making me jump.

I swallowed and nodded. “I’m ready.”

He looked at me for a moment before moving, his brown eyes seeming to take all of me in with only one glance, and my scalp prickled under the scrutiny. He’d always been able to see me better than anyone else, and it seemed as if that was yet one more thing time hadn’t changed.

“Let’s go,” he said, nodding toward the truck.

He took off, staying low and moving fast, a dark figure cutting through the black night. I did the same, keeping only three feet behind him, my gaze alternating between him, the truck, and our surroundings.

We reached the truck without trouble and knelt side by side, working together to move things around. It took only a moment to make a path, and then we were crawling under, flat on our stomachs, the ground beneath us cold and rough. I was stuck in that strange place that bounced back and forth between freezing and sweating. My pits were damp and my face flushed from the anticipation, but my nose and fingers were chilled and I was moments from my teeth chattering together.

Once I was completely under the truck, I had to pull myself forward. On the street it had seemed like there was more than enough room to stake out the settlement, but with the underside of the truck pressed up against my back, I now felt like I was trapped and it wasn’t a feeling I liked. Until this moment, I hadn’t considered myself claustrophobic, but with my body warming the way it was and more sweat breaking out across my skin, I was starting to rethink that.

We reached the curb on the other side of the truck and stopped. A metal railing like the one on the side of highways had been the only barrier before we’d built our wall, and between it and the curb there was a good eight inch gap that allowed us to look down into the valley were our settlement sat.

I pulled myself forward until my face was practically pressed into the dirt, but I barely noticed it. I was too focused on the valley below. Fires were lit in front of RVs as usual, and in the flickering light, the settlement didn’t look different from any other night. At least at first glance. There were people milling around, walking between RVs, while others sat in front of fires in groups, and the scene almost looked peaceful. Then I noticed that the people walking around were all loaded down with a hell of a lot more weapons than we usually carried. Yes, we made sure we were armed at all times just in case, but there was no reason to carry multiple guns the way these people were, and definitely no reason to have them out and ready.

I took another look at the people around the fires. The way they were sitting close together made it look like they were trying to keep warm or just hanging out, but then I noticed the ropes. Their hands were bound in their laps. Even more disturbing was the fact that with the exception of the very old and very young, our men seemed to be missing. There were women and children, and older men like Cliff, but none of the others were anywhere in sight.

Where the hell were they?

“There are no men,” I hissed, being sure to keep my voice low.

“I noticed,” Landon said. “Wherever they are, this doesn’t look good

“How many do you count?” I asked, trying to concentrate on the men who’d taken over our settlement and not my missing people.

Landon’s story from earlier was fresh in my mind, and I had to work hard to push those worries away so they didn’t cloud my judgment. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to lose control now.

“Looks like there are at least a dozen of them.” Landon pointed toward the valley, toward the row of RVs, then moved his finger to the right, back to where we’d built stables. “They must have dragged off anyone they saw as a threat and locked them up. The stables are a good bet, assuming that’s what they’ve done.”

“What else could they have done?” I asked. “All the men are gone.”

He paused and his expression said that, like me, he was thinking about what had happened with the last group he was with. “They could be in one of the RVs. Or…”

He didn’t finish his thought, but he didn’t have to. The memory of those earlier gunshots said it all.

“Let’s focus on what we need to do,” Landon said, trying to keep me on track. “Does it look like everyone else in your group is outside right now?”

I turned my focus to the people gathered in the clearing. They were split into three groups, each of them close enough to the fires that they could stay warm, but far enough away from each other that they couldn’t communicate without being heard. That didn’t mean the individual groups couldn’t talk, though. Still, there was something calculated about the way they had been divided.

The kids were tied up with the very old and sat the closest to us, near the edge of our row of RVs. Whoever these men where, they obviously looked at this group as the least threatening, and even though they were keeping an eye on them, it was more sporadic than the other two groups. Cliff, the aging doctor of our settlement, was among them. He might not have been much to look at, but he still had some fight in him. I also thought these men where greatly underestimating him and that it might actually work in our favor.

The group in the center of the settlement—the most heavily guarded one—consisted of all the women who regularly volunteered for guard duty or runs. The more fit, healthy, and able females in our group. At least these assholes weren’t delusional enough to think that just because someone had boobs they weren’t a threat. That was something.

The final group was comprised of young teens and the middle-aged women in our group—like Deb. There were a few barely pubescent boys with them, but for the most part, it was females.

The fact that they’d kept these people here while toting the men off did nothing to calm me.

“What do you think their plan is? I mean, why tie these people up in the middle of the settlement? Why keep them in the open like this?”

“My guess, they’re still trying to get information out of them,” Landon said. “That’s why I asked if it looked like anyone was missing. Maybe they’re questioning someone?”

“About what,” I muttered as I scanned the groups again.

It took a couple minutes, but I finally realized Landon was right.

“Jessie is missing.”

“I met her today. On the council? Outspoken?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“And Max knows this? You had the council when he was here?”

“We did. He wasn’t too fond of Jessie. She and I had to deliver the news that we were kicking him out.”

At my side, Landon stiffened. “You kicked him out?”

At first, I thought his tone was accusatory, but when I looked his way and saw the concern in his eyes, I knew what he meant. Max wanted to know where I was.

“Shit. He knows people are missing and he wants to know where they are and when they’ll be back. He knows I’m out here somewhere.”

“It’s probably why they still have the people out in the open like this. Insurance. Do you know who else was out today?” Landon asked. “Were we the only ones gone?”

“No. A scavenging group headed out this morning, but who knows when they’ll be back. They were going deeper into the country to check out some farms and see what they could find. They could be gone for a couple days.”

“Let’s just hope that if they do make it back, they notice something is off and keep their distance,” Landon said. “Until then, we need to get down there and get a look around.”

“Exactly how are we going to do that? We chose this valley for a reason, because sneaking in isn’t easy.”

“But it’s not impossible,” Landon said as he starting scooting backward. “If there’s a way in, we’re going to find it.”

Chapter 13

Landon had been right, but so had I. Getting down the hill and into the valley meant heading further down the street and climbing down a steep hill. It was treacherous, especially in the dark, and we had to move slowly, making sure we didn’t slip on the loose dirt and tumble down the hill. Not only could it get us hurt, but it would also alert the raiders to our presence.

Thankfully we made it down with only a few scrapes and bruises. The heavy bag on my shoulders hadn’t made it easy, and I was starting to hate the Kevlar vest, which was now making me sweat, but somehow I managed without falling on my ass. Something I was thankful for.

When we reached the bottom, we stayed inside the cover of trees until things seemed to be settling down for the night. First the groups of survivors were dragged inside, each group to a separate RV, and after that all but the fire in the very center of the clearing was allowed to die down. With the flickering light gone, the settlement was cloaked in shadowy darkness, making it tough to know how many people were still up and moving around. Thankfully, the assholes didn’t seem to care about keeping quiet.

Once we were sure we could move through the darkness undetected, we left the trees. We stuck to the outskirts of the valley, moving past the old playground and picnic shelters and hugging the small groups of trees at the far edge of the settlement. In the distance, further down the valley and near the river, the stables loomed. The area surrounding them was pitch black, but the sounds of horses stomping their hooves or snorting echoed through the air.

It was the sound of humans moving around that I was searching for, though, only there didn’t seem to be any. It made no sense if the rest of our group was being held here. Not only should we be able to hear something from our people—there had to be close to twenty missing men—there should be men from the raiders’ group guarding them. There was no way they would leave prisoners unwatched, and the fact that no one seemed to be around had me on edge.

What if they weren’t being held here? What if my worst fear was true and they’d already been executed?

“I don’t hear anything,” I hissed.

In the darkness, Landon was little more than a silhouette, but I saw it when he shook his head and knew he was thinking the same thing.

We reached the stable and rushed behind it where we rested, catching our breath and listening. Still, the only sounds were the horses and the rushing of the nearby river.

“Something’s wrong,” I said.

Panic crept up on me and I fought against it, but it was too overwhelming. Too real. Deep down, I knew what had happened, I’d seen with my own eyes what little thought these men gave human life, but I didn’t want it to be true.

“Stay calm.” Landon’s hand found mine in the darkness and he gave it a squeeze.

“How can I? They’re dead and we both know it.”

“You don’t know that.”

I thought of the gunshots we’d heard while we were inside the West Milton Inn. At the time we’d assumed they were a result of the horde reaching the men on the main road, but now I knew better. Those gunshots had been the sounds of an execution.

“Even if it’s true,” Landon hissed, “that doesn’t change anything about what we have to do. We have to do everything in our power to save these people before the same thing happens to them. Understand?”

I nodded because my throat was too clogged with tears to talk.

“Now, tell me about the people in the third group, the one not as heavily guarded.”

“It’s mostly kids,” I said. “We taught them to shoot, to defend themselves, but we can’t expect them to kill people, Landon. Can we?”

“What if it’s a choice between killing or being killed? What would you have them do then?”

He was right and I hated it. Even worse, it was like the full reality of this new world was hitting me for the first time.

“We’ll do our best to shelter them from it, but you and I both know we might fail.” His voice was gentle, soothing, but firm as well. “Now, what about the others?”

“Cliff won’t go down without a fight. He’s getting up there in years and he has a lot of pain, but he’s tough. I saw him take out more than one zombie on the road.” I thought about the others, trying my best to focus on the living instead of the men I was very certain were now dead. “There’s Marjorie. She’s good with a gun. Used to hunt when she was younger. She was even the Miami County Game Warden for a while.”

“Okay, that’s good,” Landon said. “Who else?”

“Hector was in that group and he’ll be an asset. He’s not as old as he looks, or he acts younger than his age, I’m not sure which, but he can kick some ass. Then there’s Dolly. She’s old, but she can shoot.”

I thought about my seventy-year-old neighbor. She didn’t always have the easiest time getting around, but in the beginning when we were faced with hoards, all we’d had to do was prop her in a chair with a gun and she’d had no problem putting a bullet through a zombie’s head. The idea of putting her in danger didn’t sit well with me, but Landon was right, if we had a choice between killing these men or allowing them to kill us, none of these people would back down from a fight. We’d been through too much.

“That’s it, though. The rest are kids or too feeble.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t shoot the really old people already,” he said, almost to himself.

I stiffened and my heart beat faster. He was right. Sooner or later these men would realize how much work it was to keep some of our people alive and do away with them. What their end goal was, I didn’t have a clue, but they’d want things to go as smoothly as possible, and that would mean getting rid of some baggage.

“We have to move. Fast,” I hissed.

“We will, but first we need to figure out how to get inside that RV,” Landon said. “That’s our number one priority. Any allies are better than none, and even if we have to prop Dolly up behind a rock she can at least fire off a couple shots and distract the men so we can get some other people free. The more the better.”

“Even if they’re not heavily guarding that RV, they’re still going to be keeping an eye on it.”

“Which is why we need a distraction.” Landon got to his feet. “How many horses do you have?”

“Seven.” I stood as well.

“And the other animals?” he asked.

“We have dozens of chickens, a few pigs, some goats and cows.”

“The chickens would be the biggest distraction, but they’ll also be a hell of a lot harder for us to catch after all this is over.” He paused and thought it through. “The horses will have to do.”

“You want to set the horses free?”

“Yup.” Landon started moving, heading to the front of the stable. “Hopefully it’s enough of a distraction to give us time to get into the RV.”

He paused at the side of the stable, staying low so he was in the shadows, and turned to face me. “You should go now.”

“Wait, what?” Thinking he was telling me to run, I shook my head. “I won’t leave you.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Landon grasped my hands in his. “You get to the RVs before I set the horses free, that way you’re in position and ready when those assholes head back here to wrangle the animals.”

I couldn’t argue because it was a good plan. Running through the valley, even in the darkness, would be too risky once the horses were set free, but I still didn’t like the idea of leaving him behind.

“What about you?”

“I’ll let the horses out then head to the other side of the RV park, closer to where one of the other groups are being held. That way we have a better chance of surrounding them. Make sense?”

“Yes,” I said, but still didn’t move.

“We’re going to be okay,” Landon said. “I swear it.”

“Okay.” This time, my voice came out firmer. “Just promise you’ll be careful.”

“It took me eight months and I had to cross almost the entire country to get to you, I’m not going to die now.”

Before I could say anything else, he pulled me against him. Our Kevlar vests slammed together as we kissed, making impossible for a real embrace, but it didn’t matter. From Landon, I would take anything I could get.

When he pulled away, he gave me a little shove toward the RVs. “Go. And be careful.”

“I will,” I said before taking off through the darkness.

My heart was pounding by the time I reached the RVs, not only from exertion, but also from the anticipation of what was going to happen next. It was late, but a good number of the men were still up and being more rowdy than they should have been considering it could draw a horde our way. Hopefully, they would notice the horses fast and hurry to secure them. If they wanted to take our settlement for the convenience of the location and all the work we’d put in, they would want to keep the horses where they were.

I dropped to the ground and tossed my backpack under the RV before pulling myself after it, but movement was difficult thanks to the Kevlar vest. To make matters worse, the grass here had died from lack of sun and the dirt was soft beneath my hands, giving me little to no traction. It wasn’t quite mud, but it was damp enough that it clung to my skin and clothes, making me feel twice as weighed down.

I stopped when I reached the other side. One fire was still going and there were a few men gathered around it, Max included. They were drinking and laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world. Maybe they didn’t. Maybe this was what they did to survive. Find settlements and take over, use the resources and people until they didn’t need them anymore and then move on—after killing everyone, of course. They were the vultures of this new world, and even though my stomach rolled at the thought of killing a living, breathing person, I would be doing everyone still alive a favor. People like this didn’t deserve the air they used, let alone what few resources we had left.

I heard the beat of hooves before the men did. They were too focused on their conversation, which I wasn’t close enough to hear. Unfortunately. It would have been nice to get an idea of what they were planning.

With my breath held, I waited for them to realize something had changed. It took longer than it should have, and when they started moving, I realized why. The morons were drunk.

Good.

One of the men ran to a nearby RV and pounded on the door. “We got a problem!”

He stumbled back when the door was thrown open, nearly falling on his ass but somehow managing to stay upright. A man stepped out and I recognized him from the road. He’d been the first man out of the cars and was the one who’d shot Bill and Devon. If I had to guess, I’d say he was the leader.

He already had his gun out and ready when he looked the clearing over, and the sneer on his face intensified when he got a look at his men. “Are you morons drunk again?”

“Just blowing off some steam.” I tensed at the sound of Max’s voice. He was on the other side of the fire and out of sight, but knew it was him.

The leader let out a sound that almost sounded like a growl. “Bunch of morons.” He turned on the man who’d banged on his door. “What’s wrong?”

“Sounds like horses,” the man said.

The leader took a step toward him. “Sounds like it? You mean you haven’t checked it out yet?”

“I was checking to see what you wanted us to do.”

“I want you do your job,” the leader said. “Which means checking out anything that seems suspicious. And if it is the damn horses, get them. They’re part of the reason we came here.”

So I’d been right. Max had told them about our setup and they’d decided to take advantage of our hard work.

I pulled my gun.

No way was I going to let them ruin everything we’d worked hard to build.

“You heard me,” the leader snarled, his focus now on the other men standing around. “Go check it out!”

The men scrambled off, practically tripping over their own feet.

When he was alone, the leader let out a deep breath. “Bunch of useless assholes.”

He picked up an open bottle and sniffed it, making a face that told me he wasn’t much of a drinker himself. When he tipped it upside down, the liquid splashed against the rocks surrounding the fire, and the flames intensified, shooting into the air. They also caught on the liquid that had fallen on the rocks and spread over to the grass, making the leader swear and kick dirt over them.

When he was sure the fire was under control, he tossed the bottle aside and turned his back to the fire.

I held my breath and waited. I needed him to go after the others, but I wasn’t sure if he would. If he was the type of person who thought a job could only be done right if he was there, he’d go see what his men were doing. But if he was the type of man who left the hard work to others, he’d stick around. Hopefully, he was the first one.

A neigh echoed through the night, followed by a man cursing up a storm, and the leader shook his head. “I miss the days when I didn’t have to be surrounded by incompetence,” he muttered to himself as he started walking, heading between the RVs and toward his men.

Once he was out of sight, I scrambled out from under the RV as fast as the Kevlar vest would allow me, pulling my bag out behind me. The clearing was empty and silent, but the sound of the men struggling to catch the horses echoed through the night air. It wouldn’t take long for them to wrangle the horses, even drunk and incompetent, because the animals were tame and used to people.

I needed to act fast.

I only took one quick look around before pulling the door to the RV open and slipping inside. It was too dark to see anything, but I heard the shuffle of people moving around at my approach.

“Who’s there?”

Cliff’s scratchy voice was distinctive enough that I didn’t need to see him to know who’d asked the question.

“Shhh.” I moved forward slowly, running my hand along the wall in an attempt to ground myself. “It’s April. Landon and I need your help if we’re going to stop these men.”

“April,” Cliff said in relief.

A shadow moved through the darkness and then he was in front of me, grabbing my hand between his own bound hands. His skin was rough and dry, weathered from his many years on this earth, but his grip firm.

“Those assholes—”

“Language,” Dolly hissed from somewhere deeper in the RV.

“Screw your idea of propriety, Dolly,” Cliff said. “We have a real problem on our hands.”

“It’s okay,” I broke in before the two could start arguing. “We got the weapons from town. We need you.”

“I’m here,” Cliff said.

“Me too,” Hector said from behind me.

“Marjorie and Dolly?” More movement followed. “Are you ready for this?”

“Not sure if my old bones are,” Dolly said, “but I’ll do my best.”

“Give me a gun and let me loose,” Marjorie growled.

“Good.”

When discussing the plan with Landon, these four had seemed like our only hope, even it the hope had been slim. Hearing the determination in their voices, though, told me they might be more of an asset than I’d thought.

“Are the windows covered?” I asked. “I’m going to turn on a flashlight.”

“I’m on it,” one of the kids said.

There was movement in the darkness and a moment later someone said, “All good.”

“Okay.” I flipped my flashlight on but kept it low and partially covered by a dishtowel I grabbed off the counter. “Let’s get ready.”

The first thing I did was cut Cliff and Hector loose. Then, while they got busy untying everyone else, I unloaded the guns. The RV was cramped and I was already hot, and with every move I as more certain the Kevlar vest was trying to suffocate me. The problem was, it was way too big.

Ignoring the inconvenience of it, I passed a gun and knife to Cliff, Hector, Dolly, and Marjorie before pausing to look around at the kids. They ranged from age five to twelve, and in the semi-darkness of the RV, they looked twice as vulnerable as I’d ever seen them.

“Trevor,” I said to the oldest of the kids, a twelve-year-old boy who’d dragged his younger sister from their house and to safety when their parents turned. “I need you to be in charge. Understand?”

He nodded, his eyes wide and serious.

“All the kids need to stay away from the door, as far back in the RV as possible. Okay?”

He nodded again.

“You need to stand guard.” I didn’t pause before passing him the final gun. “Understand? You need to make sure everyone stays safe.”

Beside him, Cliff frowned but didn’t argue with the plan.

“Can you do it?” I asked.

“I can do it,” Trevor said firmly.

“Good.” I stood. “Now we’re going out there so we can do everything in our power to make sure you never need to use that.”

Chapter 14

I cracked the door and waited, holding my breath and praying the men hadn’t managed to get the horses back in the stables. In front of me, the clearing was still empty, and even better, the distant sound of cursing echoed through the night air.

The coast was clear.

“Follow me,” I whispered as I pushed the door open the rest of the way.

My gun was up and ready, but just like I’d thought, there was no one in sight, making it easy for the five of us to slip between the RVs and duck into the shadows.

“What’s the plan?” Cliff asked.

We weren’t crouching, mostly because both he and Dolly had knee problems, and I felt out in the open and exposed even though we were at the far end of the settlement. There was only one RV to my left—the one the kids used for school—and the one to my right was empty. There was no real reason for the men to come this way, but I was still anxious to get under one of the other RVs and out of sight.

First, though, we needed a plan.

“We need to split up.” I twisted and groaned when the Kevlar vest shifted. “Dolly, you stay here in the shadows.” There was a rather big grill only a few feet away, which Hector and I were able to move to block Dolly from sight. “When I open fire, you follow my lead. Got it?”

Dolly, who suddenly reminded me less of a busybody neighbor and more of a woman with a major vendetta, held her pistol up and nodded. “My knees may be failing me, but my eyes are better than a twenty-year-olds.”

“Lucky for us,” I said, turning to Marjorie. “You think you can make it up the hill?

“No problem.”

“Good. You do the same thing. Hide out and when I fire, start shooting.”

We decided Cliff would hide on the other side of the classroom trailer while Hector was going to make his way up the hill with Marjorie, only continue to the other side so they were spread out.

After they took off, I helped Cliff into position. My heart was pounding and I was busy straining my ears, listening for any sounds that might indicate the men were on their way back. The cursing had died off, telling me they had probably caught the horses, but so far there were no other sounds.

“You be careful,” I told Cliff.

He knelt out of sight, hidden by a pile of wood someone had dragged in with the intention of building a porch, and in the process dropped his gun.

“I’ll get it,” I said.

When I knelt, the vest poked me in the neck, once again making me seem like it was trying to kill me.

“That’s it.” I tossed my gun aside and ripped the vest off, throwing it to the ground. “I can’t take that thing anymore.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“If I can’t move in it I don’t know how I’m going to be able to get off a good shot,” I said. “So, yeah. I’m sure.”

“Whatever you think best.”

“What I think right now is that I better get moving.”

“Be careful, April.”

“I will,” I said, taking a step back. “And you better be careful, too.”

“I’m not ready to die yet.”

Despite the tension, I couldn’t help smiling as I dashed off, heading past Dolly where I once again climbed under the RV.

I pulled myself across the dirt, keeping low so my back didn’t scrape against the bottom of the RV, not stopping until I’d reached the end. I could now hear the pounding of footsteps in the distance as the men headed back, and I waited for a moment, trying to get an idea of how close they were to my hiding spot. They didn’t sound nearby, but I couldn’t find them in the darkness. I also knew I couldn’t wait long. I needed to get into position as soon as possible.

Taking a deep breath to prepare myself, I pulled myself from my hiding spot and scurried across the open space between the two RVs. Once I’d reached the next one, I dove under and scrambled forward until I was once again concealed, more thankful than ever that I’d ditched the Kevlar vest. Then I started crawling again, pulling myself forward while the sound of the men talking grew closer and louder, their words becoming more clear.

“Someone let those horses out and I want to know who,” a man—the leader, I assumed—said.

“Who? Ain’t nobody here,” another replied.

“Somebody probably came back from a hunting party and realized something was up,” Max said. “April, maybe one of the others. I don’t know, but Pat is right, someone let those horses out.”

So the leader’s name was Pat.

It wasn’t a surprise that they’d figured out our plan so quickly, even a moron could play connect the dots, but it still made my heart pound because I didn’t know where Landon was or if he was in danger. If they caught me they’d let me live, but they’d put a bullet in his head right away and I knew it.

“Keep your eyes open,” Pat said.

The men appeared in the clearing, coming out from between two RVs and stopping in front of the fire. Pat had his gun up and his gaze was scanning the area, checking to see if anything was out of place, and I said a silent prayer that he didn’t notice we’d moved the grill.

“No more drinking and I mean it. You need to stay sharp. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

There were grumbles, but the other men nodded in agreement.

“Good,” Pat snapped.

I pulled myself forward until I’d reached the end of the RV. I’d wanted to make it a little further so I was more toward the middle, that way we were spread out and these assholes would feel like they were surrounded, but I needed to make it at least to the next RV if I wanted to achieve that. Could I do it? Were they distracted enough?

I peered out at them and waited. Pat was still there, studying the dark hill in front of him where Marjorie and Hector were now hiding, and his back was to me. The other men hadn’t returned to their drinking or casual conversation, but they seemed a lot less concerned than their boss did. If I was going to make a move, now was the time.

I counted to five, keeping an eye on Pat, and then pulled myself out from under the RV. My back scraped the bottom and I had to bite back a yelp of pain, but it didn’t slow me down, and in seconds I had pulled myself under the next RV.

My heart threatened to burst out of my chest by the time I made it to the center of the RV. Across the settlement, a figure shifted in the darkness, right were I’d left Cliff. It was subtle, so I doubted anyone else would notice, but I was looking for it. Hopefully, the others were ready.

I shifted so I was more comfortable and it was easier to move around. Pat had moved and was now on the other side of the fire, but there were a couple men right in front of me, less than eight feet from my hiding space. Hitting them would be easy.

Taking a deep breath, I took aim. My hands were shaking, so I had to pause and give myself a pep talk. This needed to be done. These were bad men. No, not men. They were zombies. That was all. I’d shot more zombies than I could count and this would be no different. I could do this.

It was harder talking myself into than I’d thought it would be.

Still, I only counted to five before pulling the trigger.

The boom of the gun was amplified by the tight space, and it left a ringing behind in my ears that made it nearly impossible to focus. I shook my head and tapped my hand against my ear, and the ringing eased a little.

That was when I focused on the man I’d shot. He was lying on the ground in front of me, his eyes open and blank as they stared back at me in silent accusation. The flickering fire reflected off the blood pooled beneath him, highlighting the red hue, and for a moment I couldn’t move. Couldn’t look away. Couldn’t think about what was happening in the clearing or about what might be happening to anyone else.

I’d murdered someone.

Another gunshot burst through the air and I snapped out of it. In the clearing, the assholes who’d taken over our camp were scrambling for cover, moving away from me, but the second shot had caught them off guard and they now looked like they didn’t know what to do. Running away from me meant heading toward the other shooter, and a few of the men chose to drop to the ground and cover their heads rather than run.

One man had taken off, running toward the hill like he was trying to get away, but he didn’t make it far before a third gunshot cut through the air. Marjorie was up that way, and even after all these years she was still a good shot. The guy hit the ground, screaming in pain, and in the limited light I could just make out the red splattered across the front of his shirt.

A fourth gunshot rang through the air, but this one came from the clearing, drawing my attention back. The leader fired in the direction of the hill even though he couldn’t possibly know where Marjorie was hiding, and a few of his men followed suit. The rapid fire of the automatic weapons was shockingly loud compared to our own gunshots.

I took aim and fired again, this time getting one of the men in the arm. He went down, dropping the gun he’d been holding, and a second later another man went down as well. After that, I couldn’t keep track of who was firing from where. The men had taken cover in various places, none of which were great hiding spots. Behind a motorcycle or a raised fire pit, and in one case a man even tried to use a bicycle for cover, which did nothing. They were too out in the open and unless they went for one of the RVs, there was nowhere to run.

A few of them did try to make a break for it, running for cover in the RVs, Max included, and while most didn’t make it far, I saw the feet of the weasel of a wife beater disappear as he pulled himself to safety. A gunshot that came from Cliff’s direction took one man down, and another man got a bullet in the back courtesy of Hector. When a shot was fired from the direction Landon was supposed to be hiding in, I almost let out a sigh of relief.

It was short-lived. Pat had taken off, firing in random directions as he ran. A burst of bullets hit the dirt in front of me and I instinctively covered my head even though my arms would do nothing to protect me. I looked up in time to watch him dive under an RV, and I swear my heart skipped a beat at the realization that he had just crawled into Landon’s hiding spot.

I didn’t even have time to hope he hadn’t made it there before the sound of a struggle cut through the sudden silence, followed by swearing. I’d recognize Landon’s voice anywhere.

My people were still firing into the clearing, Dolly especially seemed to be determined to either hit someone or scare the shit out of them, but I couldn’t focus on who was firing or who was still up. All I could think about was Landon.

Chapter 15

Only a few minutes passed before Pat called out, “We’re coming out! If you want your friend to be alive five minutes from now, you’ll hold your fire.”

The night went frighteningly silent.

My body was shaking before the two men came into view, and when I saw Landon in the other man’s grasp, his body being used as a human shield while a gun was pressed against his temple, I wanted to scream.

“Stop!”

The word echoed through the night before I realized it had come from me, but it was too late to take it back.

“I’ll stop when you do,” Pat called. “Enough people have died tonight.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Landon growled. “You know what men like this do. Don’t give him a chance. Shoot.”

I had a sudden flashback to Landon and me in our young teens, thirteen, maybe fourteen, sitting side by side at my house watching a movie. Speed. We’d been too young to see it in the theaters, only seven at the time, but we’d found it in a bargain movie bin at Wal-Mart and had bought it because Sandra Bullock was in it—she was fresh off filming Miss Congeniality and Landon had a huge crush on her at the time. I’d actually enjoyed Speed, as far-fetched as some of the scenes had been, and I remembered with perfect clarity how Keanu Reeves had gotten the bad guy in the end.

Shoot the hostage.

He’d shot his partner in the leg.

“Come out,” Pat yelled, “and we’ll go easy on you.”

“Shoot,” Landon said again, this time practically screaming the word. “Do it, April!”

Could he be thinking the same thing I was?

Could I shoot Landon in the leg if it meant saving everyone?

Would it save us or would Pat fire the second he heard a gunshot?

I knew nothing about him, had no clue how he reacted in a stressful situation, but one thing was certain: he would kill Landon even if I came out. This man, these men, were not here to take prisoners long term. They were here to see who was useful and who was expendable, and they wouldn’t keep anyone who was a threat around. The end.

I had to do something, and it had to be extreme.

“I’m coming out!” I turned toward the sound just as Cliff stepped into view, his hands up. “Don’t shoot him.”

The leader let out a low chuckle. “So we underestimated the old geezer. Not the first time.”

“I may be an old geezer,” Cliff said in a low growl, “but at least I’m not a coward.”

Faster than I thought he could move, he whipped his gun down and took aim. What happened next seemed to be over in a millisecond and stretch out for years at the same time. Cliff took aim and Pat turned toward him. His gun was no longer pressed against Landon’s head, but Pat still had a grip on him, still had him in a position where I couldn’t get a clear shot. Landon twisted like he was trying to get free, but his face contorted, telling me he was hurt, and Pat still had the advantage. If I decided to take the shot, I would have to be fast. There was no room for error.

I scrambled out from under the RV just as a gunshot rang through the air and Cliff went down, grunting. A cry echoed across the settlement, not coming from Cliff, but from Marjorie who was still hidden in the darkness of the hill. Landon was struggling with Pat, but didn’t seem to be making much progress. I had my gun up and ready, but my window of opportunity was closing quickly. Pat had shot Cliff and he was now free to turn his gun back on Landon. I had to fire. I had to take the shot, but I still didn’t have a good opportunity. Landon was blocking the other man from view.

I did the only think I could think to do. I aimed for Landon’s leg and pulled the trigger.

He cried out and a burst of red sprayed across his leg. A second later he had slumped forward, and the sudden shift of his body weight combined with the realization that his captive had been shot threw Pat off guard.

He let go.

Landon slumped to the ground while the man above him turned his gun on me, ready to take aim. He was too late, though. I already had his head in my sights and this time I didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

Pat’s head whipped back when the bullet tore through his skull, and the gun fell from his hand. Landon had it in a second, and before Pat’s body had even dropped to the ground he’d turned and fired at another man standing nearby, catching him off guard.

More shots followed, from Dolly’s direction and from where Hector and Marjorie were hiding, and even, to my shock, from Cliff. In less than a minute, the rest of the men were down.

I rushed to Landon’s side the second the gunshots had died away, dropping to my knees next to him. “Oh my God, oh my God, tell me you’re okay!”

“You shot me,” he said, shaking his head.

“I thought that’s what you were telling me to do it.”

His jeans were saturated with blood and his face was contorted into a grimace, but he still managed to force out a smile. “I was. Shoot the hostage, right?”

I laughed, but it was choked with tears. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You did the right thing,” he assured me.

“The right thing, look at you! You’re bleeding and Cliff was shot. I don’t know if we’re going to have anyone to patch you up. You could die because of what I did. What was I thinking?”

“Don’t count me out yet.”

I turned at the sound of Cliff’s voice and found him heading our way, holding his side where there was surprisingly not a even a drop of blood on his shirt.

“Good thing you decided you didn’t need that Kevlar vest. I’m going to be bruised for a while, but otherwise I’m good.” Cliff knelt beside Landon. “Let’s get a look at this leg.”

“There are people,” Landon huffed out as Cliff probed his wound. “You know some of the men took cover in the RV.”

Hector and Marjorie came running up, and behind Cliff I saw Dolly pulling herself from her hiding place.

“Keep an eye on that RV for movement,” I told Hector, nodding to where the men had retreated. “I’m getting us some backup.” As I jogged for the RV in the center, the one where our most able-bodied women were being held, I called over my shoulder, “Dolly, tell the kids everything is okay. Marjorie, go for the other RV. Let’s get everyone free!”

Just in case everyone inside was freaked out and decided to attack, I paused outside the door of the RV and rapped my knuckles against it. “It’s me, April. Everything is okay.” I paused, waiting, but no one responded. “I’m opening the door.”

I pulled it open slowly even though I’d warned everyone, and when the sliver of light from the fire and moon penetrated the darkness, the women closest to the door shrank away from it.

“It’s okay,” I said soothingly.

“Who was firing?” Deb called out from the back.

I pulled myself inside. “We were. We stopped them, Landon and me.” I paused and smiled. “With a little help from Hector, Marjorie, Cliff, and Dolly.”

“Dolly?” Trish said, looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes.

“You heard me right, but don’t worry. We’re all okay.”

“Not everyone,” Trish said.

“I know they killed Devon and Bill at the gate. Landon and I saw it. We were hiding across the street.”

I knelt in front of her since she was closest, and pulled out a knife. “Let me take care of those ropes.”

I’d just reached for her hands when Trish said, “They weren’t the only ones. They killed all the men.”

So Landon and I had been right.

I let out a deep, shaky breath while I worked to saw through the ropes binding her wrists. “I was afraid that’s what happened. I’m sorry, Trish.” I looked around the room. “I’m sorry, everyone. We did everything we could.”

Deb, whose hands were still bound, took the knife from me, giving me a sad smile in the process. “There was nothing you could have done to stop it. There was nothing anyone could have done.”

Behind her, Jessie said, “At least you stopped them from killing more people.”

Once everyone was free, we filed out of the RV in a silent line. Dolly and the kids were on the far end of the settlement, outside but still looking shell-shocked, and Marjorie had successfully liberated our other group from the third RV. Cliff had Landon bandaged, and even though I wanted to make sure he was going to be okay, I instead turned to Hector, who was guarding the RV where Max and the other men were hiding like the cowards they were.

The triumph I’d originally felt at killing Pat had waned with the knowledge that a good number of our people had been murdered. And for what? Because these men had been lazy. Because we’d stood up to a wife beater. What if we hadn’t made the decision to banish Max and his wife last October? Would these men have found us anyway, or would our people still be alive?

There was one way to find out. Max.

“Everyone arm yourself,” I called, as I moved toward the RV where Max and the few remaining raiders had taken cover. “We need to end this.”

Others followed me, but I hadn’t made it far before Marjorie had run up behind me. “April, take this. In case.”

I turned to find her holding out one of the Kevlar vests and took it gratefully. I wouldn’t wear the dreaded thing, but I’d hold it in front of me just in case they decided to open fire.

When I stopped in front of the door, I used the barrel of my gun to tap on it three times.

“It’s over, Max. You and your men need to come out. You’re outnumbered. You don’t have a shot in hell of getting out of here. Make this easy on everyone.”

“You’ll go easy on us if we do?” Max called back.

“No way, man,” someone else said. “We go out there and we’re dead.”

“They’re not the killing kind,” Max said. “They’ll banish us. That’s it.”

He was wrong, but I wasn’t about to contradict him right now.

“You get thirty seconds to make a decision and then we’re opening fire on the RV.” I looked at the group gathered behind me, armed and ready. “There are at least thirty of us out here with guns. How well do you think the walls of this RV will protect you?”

“We’re coming out!” Max called less than five seconds later.

“I’m not going out there,” the other guy said.

“You do what you want.” Max’s growl was followed by a scuffle. “I’m saving my ass while I can.”

Footsteps followed and he called, “I’m opening the door. I’m unarmed.”

He shoved the door open and I aimed my gun at his forehead. “Get those hands in the air, asshole.”

They shot up.

Behind him, two other men stood with their hands in the air, just as eager to surrender as Max was now that they could see what they were up against. Good. It was over, but we weren’t finished. Not yet.

Chapter 16

“We’re not exactly a complete council,” Deb said, looking around the RV. “We lost people.”

We’d lost three, to be exact, but I didn’t need to remind anyone else of that.

“Which is something to keep in mind as we’re deciding the fate of these men,” I said. “They came in here and killed our people in cold blood. They planned on doing more. If we let them go, they will come back just like Max did.”

“So you’re calling for the death penalty?” Hector asked.

“An eye for an eye,” I said.

“I can’t disagree with your logic,” Jessie said, “but this is something we’ve never had to do before. A choice we’ve never had to make. Who does it?”

I let out a deep breath and said, “I will this time, but in the future we’re going to have to create a new position. A marshal or something. Someone who sees to law and order.”

“Are you sure you can do this?” Hector asked.

“I’m sure.”

I wasn’t sure where my willingness to take on this burden came from. Vengeance? Maybe. Guilt over the fact that I hadn’t been able to do more? Possibly. The desire to spare everyone else the responsibly of having to pull the trigger? It was possible. Whatever the reason, I’d volunteered, and there was no going back now.

“So we’re in agreement?” Deb asked, looking around.

The other three council members nodded, as did I, and just like that we had a unanimous decision. With the nod of our heads, we had chosen to take three lives.

* * *

We waited until after the kids were in bed then took the men to the bank of the Stillwater River on the far side of the settlement. Max was sniveling, begging for his life, but we were unaffected. We’d found the bodies of our own men in a pile by what had once been a place to store canoes. They’d been left to rot like they meant nothing, and if I’d had any doubts in mind about what we were doing before seeing it, they’d been erased by the sight.

Devon had been with them.

At the edge of the river, we forced the men to kneel. They were as silent as three men who were about to be put to death could be, which meant sneers and insults from one, crying from Max, and oddly enough, the occasional prayer murmured under his breath from the third. How he’d gotten mixed up in all this was a mystery, but one he wouldn’t be around long enough to help me solve.

When they were down, I raised my pistol and aimed it first at the head of the man who was praying. It was dark, but once again, the moon was bright, and when he looked up, there was fear in his eyes.

“Forgive me,” he said.

“I’m not in the forgiving mood. Hopefully, for your sake, God is more understanding than I am.”

“I’m going to burn in hell,” he said.

“There’s a good possibility we all will,” I replied, and then pulled the trigger.

The other two men jerked at the sound of the gunshot, and by the time I moved my gun to the second man’s head, his sneers had disappeared.

“Do it,” was all he said.

And I did.

This time, Max didn’t flinch at the gunshot, but he did look up when I moved the gun to him.

“What happened to your wife?” I asked.

Max’s mouth scrunched up and I thought he was going to spit, but all he did was shake his head. “Dead. Horde moved in when we were sleeping. She didn’t get away.” His expression hardened. “It happened three days after you kicked us to the curb.”

“She’s better off dead than she was with you.”

His upper lip curled in disgust, but he didn’t reply.

“Did you suggest coming here so you could get revenge? Did all these people die because we wouldn’t sit back and let you beat your wife?”

“Had to earn my keep.” Max looked down. “You had to earn your way in this group and I didn’t have nothing. No useful skills, no supplies to bring. They woulda kicked me out eventually if I hadn’t done something. So I told them about this place. Told them it would be easy.”

“You piece of shit,” Jessie said from behind me.

I didn’t look her way. “Do you have anything to say before you die?”

Max lifted his gaze, and despite his early sniveling, his eyes flashed with fire. “See you in hell.”

“Maybe,” I said, and then pulled the trigger for the final time that night.

* * *

Landon was waiting in bed for me when I got back to the RV. He sat up when I walked in, but didn’t say a word as I stripped off my clothes, or when I crawled into bed at his side, or when he wrapped his arms around me. Instead, he just held me, warming me with his body heat, comforting me with his presence.

After a long time, I finally broke the silence. “I feel responsible.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I could have done more. Revealed myself on the road, come back sooner. I don’t know.”

“They’d still be dead and so would you.”

I shifted so my face was pressed against his chest. “I know, but I can’t help feeling like there was another way. A way to save more people.”

“There wasn’t, and we can’t change what happened. Now we just have to look forward. To focus on healing and getting past this. We have to think about the future.”

“No looking back,” I said as I twisted so I could look him in the eye.

“No looking back,” he replied.

Then he leaned down and covered my lips with his. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close, letting the fact that the man I’d thought I’d lost forever was back in my life to comfort me when nothing else could. Landon was here, and this time I would never let him go.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you’ve enjoyed this book, please consider taking the time to leave a review on Amazon.

Acknowledgments

The setting of this book is my hone town, which, West Milton, OH, and the places I described are real. The old white building that’s used to be a restaurant—which sits empty today—has been there for so long that my 83 year old grandma remembers eating there as a child. The grocery store I mentioned that long ago changed its name to West Milton IGA, but will forever be B&B to me, Fox’s Pizza, and even the optometrist’s office—Dr. Poling, who is my eye doctor still today and whose daughter I graduated from high school with. I also graduated with the daughter of the receptionist, and both of them are huge fans of the Broken World series—if you’re reading this Cheryl and Kim, I added Dr. Poling’s office just for you!

I want to set a full-length novel in West Milton and the surrounding area now that I’m home for good—and I’m working on it—but for the time being this novella will have to do. If you’re from West Milton and you’re reading this: I’ll meet you at the West Milton Park when the zombie apocalypse hits for real!

Thanks to Courtnee McGrew who read No Looking Back for me in search of typos, and a very special thank you to Julie Dewey, fellow member of the Milton-Union High School Class of 1998, who also helped me out. I can’t actually remember when I first met Julie—sometime in elementary school—but I’ve known her pretty much as long as I can remember and I’m humbled by what a huge supporter she’s been of my writing from day one. Thanks for all the help and for sharing my work with others. (And when did we get so old?)

Broken World

Chapter One

The car sputters when I maneuver it into a space, but it doesn’t die. Not yet, anyway. The small orange light screams at me from the dashboard—check engine. Ten hours, that’s how long I’ve been on the road. I didn’t really believe this piece of shit would make it all the way to California, but I’d hoped it would at least get me halfway there.

I squeeze my eyes shut and rest my forehead on the steering wheel, right between my clenched fists. The orange words dance across the back of my eyelids. Even with my eyes closed I can’t escape them. They taunt me. Check engine. They may as well be you failed. That’s what it feels like.

I jerk the keys out of the ignition and grab my travel papers off the dashboard, shoving them both in my purse. Leaving the papers behind would get my car broken into for sure, plus I’ll need them if I run into a cop. If my papers get stolen, I’ll be stranded.

The diner is the type of place I would normally avoid. It’s nothing more than a truck stop really, probably fifty years old or more. I’m sure the walls are coated in grease, and the bathrooms most likely haven’t been cleaned well since the late eighties. It’s full of truckers and white trash. People who remind me of the life I ran from. But I don’t have a choice. I have to pee, and this is the only route open that leads to California.

The inside is exactly the way I imagined it. Old booths with cracked seats covered in duct tape, the walls brown and grimy. The grease invades my pores and nostrils the second I step in. It goes down into my lungs and coats them in a thick, oily film. I want to get in and out of this place as fast as possible.

I’ve only taken two steps when a man stops me. He’s big and round, and his face is red and sweaty. The pits of his shirt are stained an ugly yellow-brown color that smells as bad as it looks. Even over the grease and cigarettes his pungent odor burns my nostrils. He also has a gun strapped to his chest.

“Papers.” He holds his hand out expectantly. His face is hard.

My heart pounds as I pull the papers out of my purse and hesitantly hand them to the man. Hopefully, he actually works here and he’s not robbing me. I hold my breath while he slowly unfolds them, then exhale when his eyes narrow on the fine print. His mouth is pulled into a tight line when he nods.

He folds the papers in half, snapping his fingers across the crease before handing them back. “Welcome.” It sounds more like a death sentence than a welcome.

I return his tense smile and shove the papers back in my purse. “Where’s the bathroom?”

He tilts his head to the right, but doesn’t say a word. I nod and head in the direction he indicated, keeping my eyes down, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze. I don’t need to look at the people to know what expressions they wear. It’s the same everywhere. Fear, frustration, hopelessness, and loss. It’s how things have been since martial law was declared six weeks ago. And I’m tired of it. I have my own worries. I don’t want to see the despair in other people’s eyes, don’t want to focus on anyone else’s problems.

The bathroom is empty, thankfully, and just as dirty as I imagined it would be. I squat over the toilet, trying my best not to touch the seat. The pressure in my bladder is agonizing. I’d started to think I was going to have to pee on the side of the road.

A sigh of relief whooshes out of me when I’ve finally relieved myself. I pull up my skinny jeans and head out to wash my hands. The mirror hanging above the sink is cracked and filmy. I can’t make anything out other than my tangled blonde hair. I work my fingers through the knots and look away from the mirror. Doesn’t matter how I look. There won’t be anyone to impress on this trip.

I wash my hands and shake them dry before heading back out into the diner. No way am I eating here. It would be a waste of time. Plus, I have no desire to sit and breathe in this grease-filled air. But coffee is a must. I want to make it at least another four hours before pulling over for the night.

A woman in her fifties stands behind the register. She wears the same uniform as the other waitresses: orange dress with short sleeves and an apron that probably used to be white. The entire thing is now splattered with food and grease, old and worn just like she is. Her hair is short and jet black, the kind of color that only comes from a bottle, and the creases on her face are so deep they’re probably just as full of grease as the walls of the diner. Her arms cross over her chest and she shakes her head, frowning at the man in front of her.

“Please, I’m begging you. I was on a business trip when this all started. I’ve been stranded for weeks trying to get home to my family. I’ve spent every last penny I had on my physical and a car. I’m starving.” His voice is desperate, begging. Same story, different person.

“No credit,” the woman says. She won’t budge. Why would she? People like her are making a killing off travelers. A few weeks ago, she probably barely made enough money to live on. And now…well, if this all blows over, she’ll be comfortable.

The man pleads for a bit longer and I shift from foot to foot, waiting for him to get the point. I should have some sympathy for him. I should. But if I felt bad for every person I passed who was desperate and running out of time…if I did that, I wouldn’t be able to keep going. I’d sit down on the floor right here in the middle of this diner and never move again.

The television mounted on the wall catches my eye, and I tune the man out. It’s an old tube TV and the reception is awful, but the news is on. Maybe there will be an update on the virus.

“…travelers are advised to display their papers at all times and to keep to approved routes. Anyone who is found traveling on closed highways or without papers will be arrested immediately and held until martial law has been lifted.

In local news, police are still on the lookout for two men responsible for robbing several convenience stores in the St. Louis area. They are described as two white males in their mid- to late-twenties and were last seen traveling in a dark blue SUV. They are considered armed and dangerous…”

“That’s it,” the woman at the counter says, making me jump. She nods to the armed man at the door, then turns to me. I guess she finally got tired of listening to the desperate man. “What can I get you?”

Her gaze holds mine. Both of us avoid looking at the man as he’s dragged from the diner. Neither one of us bats an eye when he screams for mercy. Begs for help. My throat constricts, burning a little at his cries. But I can’t give in.

“Coffee,” I say. “To go.”

She nods and turns away, not even bothering to ask me if I have cash. She shouldn’t have to. Not with the giant sign over the register that says Cash Only, and not after the screaming man was ripped from the building.

I lean against the counter and close my eyes for a second. My shoulders slump and my limbs feel weighed down, like they’re made of lead. I feel a hundred years old, not twenty.

When I open my eyes, my gaze locks with a man a few booths away. Everything about him screams redneck. From his flannel shirt, unbuttoned to reveal his wifebeater and beer belly, to the bulge in his lower lip. His upper lip curls and his eyes go over my pin-up body. He nods in approval and raises an eyebrow. He’s in his thirties, probably getting close to forty, and he’s hard. Like he’s been dealt a rough life and didn’t have an issue giving some back. I’ve known men like him. Hell, I’ve dated men like him.

There’s another man sitting at the table with him, but his back is to me so I can’t tell what he looks like. Probably more of the same. The first man grins and picks up a soda can, spitting into it. My stomach churns. He gives me the creeps.

I turn away when the waitress comes back carrying a cup of coffee. “That’ll be five bucks.”

I dig my nails into my palms. “Five dollars? What do you think this is, Starbucks?”

She purses her lips and both her penciled-on eyebrows pull together. “I know this ain’t Starbucks, but I also know there ain’t another place to get a cup of coffee for ‘bout fifty miles. And that’s if you’re goin’ east. If you’re headin’ west, it’s further.”

I’m going west, of course.

I rip the cup out of her hand as violently as I can without spilling it and slam a five-dollar bill on the counter. “Don’t expect a tip.”

I turn on my heel and walk out of the diner, keeping my eyes straight ahead so I don’t have to look at the redneck again. His eyes bore into me as I go.

* * *

I make it three more hours before the car sputters and starts to slow. That’s all. My foot slams on the gas pedal, but nothing happens. The wheel is stiff as I turn it hard to the right and pull to the shoulder. A car blares its horn when it flies by. I probably got the finger, but my vision is too clouded by tears to know for sure. It’s over. This is it.

The entire car jerks when the engine sputters, then dies completely. I don’t even bother putting it in park. There’s no point. It’s never moving again. I stare straight ahead. What do I do now? There’s a sign about fifteen feet in front of me, announcing that the next check point is twenty miles away. I can walk or I can try to hitch a ride. Both are a risk. But then again, so is sitting here.

I grab my purse and pull out the photo, clutching it so tight the paper crinkles. Her blue eyes stare up at me, big and round. Innocent. Squeezing my heart and making my throat constrict. I just wanted to see her one time before it all ended. Just once.

A horn honks and I jump, almost dropping the picture. A car has pulled to the side of the road less than six feet behind me. My heart pounds and every muscle in my body tightens. Good or bad? I don’t know. No one gets out of the car, and I can’t see in.

My purse is still in my lap.

I put the picture back and pull out my gun.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, then open the door and step out. It’s a dark blue Nissan Armada. A monster of a vehicle. The windows are tinted so dark there’s no way it can be legal. The outline of two men is barely visible through the dark windows, but I can’t tell who they are or what they look like. And I have no idea what they’re doing.

I take two small steps toward the car and the driver’s side door opens. The redneck from the diner steps out.

“Well, hello there!” he drawls. His accent isn’t southern exactly, more low-class than anything else. He keeps the door open as he steps away from the car, his own gun clutched in his right hand. “What a surprise. Thought I’d never see you again.” He winks.

I tighten my grip on the gun and raise it to chest level. Steadying it with both hands. Aiming at the center of his chest. I’m a good shot.

He puts his hands up, but doesn’t release the gun. “Hold on now, no need to point that thing at me. I just stopped to see if you was havin’ car trouble.”

The passenger door opens, and the other man steps out. He stays behind the open door but points another gun at me through the gap between the door and the car.

“I think you should put that down,” he calls. He sounds younger than the first man, but their voices are similar. Same low-class accent.

“Just a precaution.” I keep my gun up and my arm steady. “I’ve had lots of target practice, so don’t think I don’t know what I’m doing.”

The first man nods and slowly bends down, lowering the hand with the gun toward the ground. “I’m just gonna put this down, and my brother is gonna put his down, and we’re gonna have a nice chat. That sound good?”

His tone is condescending. Warm and fuzzy, but in a fake way. It puts me on edge. I shouldn’t trust this man. I know it.

“Lower your gun, Axl. Come on out where she can see ya.”

The man behind the door pulls his gun back and walks forward. He is younger than his brother, and taller. Where the first man is stocky with a beer belly, Axl is broad. His muscles strain against his flannel shirt. He’s average-looking. Not unattractive and hard like his brother, more unassuming. Probably why his brother called him out. So I’d let my guard down.

I’m silent as the two men put their guns on the ground and take a step back. My eyes flit between them while I try to decide what to do. Axl’s face is blank and he’s silent, his hands casually at his side. His brother, on the other hand, grins at me with his hands still in the air. His smile is fake as my boobs.

“We ain’t gonna hurt you,” Axl spits out. His voice drips with irritation. Guess he isn’t thrilled they stopped to help me.

“Why did you stop then?”

“I told you, darlin’,” the first man says. “We was just checking to see if you needed help. That’s all. I’m Angus, and this here is my brother, Axl. We’re travelin’, just like you. Thought we’d help out.”

“Nothing’s that simple these days.” I flex my fingers around the grip of my gun.

Axl rolls his eyes and turns toward his brother. “I told you this was stupid. Let’s go.”

“No, no. She needs help. It’s obvious.” Angus turns back to me and smiles in what I’m sure he thinks is a charming way. It’s not. “We just wanted to help ya out. That’s all.”

I study them for a minute longer with the gun still aimed at Angus’s chest. My knuckles start to ache. These two rednecks may be my only option. “Where are you headed?”

“California.” Angus flashes me a big grin.

Sighing, I lower the gun. Shit. “Me too.”

This makes Angus smile even bigger, and I have the urge to shoot him anyway. There is definitely something creepy about this guy.

“Well then, we’ll just travel on up there together,” Angus says. Another smile.

“You’d give me a ride?”

“Sure would. Can’t leave a young lady out here all by herself. It’s a dangerous world.” Angus winks and his eyes sweep over my body, just like they did in the diner. I shudder. He’s dangerous.

“I’d pitch in for gas and anything else we needed.” I cringe at the pleading in my voice. Not sure if there’s any sense in hiding it, though. Angus knows I’m desperate, like everyone else on the road.

He smiles again. “Sure you will.”

Angus picks up both guns on his way to the Nissan. “Help her with her bags, Axl.” He doesn’t even glance at his brother. It’s an order. He is definitely at the top of the food chain here.

Axl doesn’t blink. Not that I thought he would. He heads toward my car. Axl doesn’t frighten me or put me on edge like his brother, but maybe he should.

I open the back door and give him a strained smile. “Sorry about the gun.”

He nods, but barely looks at me. “Understandable.”

Axl grabs both my bags without so much as a grunt and heads back to the Nissan. I gather my meager belongings as fast as possible since I don’t want them to drive off with my stuff. I jog to catch up with him. Angus catches my eye. He gives me another one of his smiles and I do my best to return it. I’m sure mine is even less convincing than his.

“You’re in the back,” Angus says, but he isn’t talking to me. He’s talking to Axl.

My stomach twists into knots, but I climb in the passenger seat anyway. I should argue, say I’d rather be in the back so I can get some sleep. But I don’t want to cause problems. I have to get to California. Emily is there.

LEARN MORE

The Blood Will Dry

Chapter One

Stepping out of the car was like opening a hot oven and climbing inside. The sun beat down on my head while a burst of fiery air engulfed me, coating my skin in stickiness in five seconds flat. Even the tiny sundress I wore didn’t help. Not during the worst heat wave Ohio had seen in years. Not when there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the air was sticky enough to curl even the straightest hair.

“Thank God for air conditioning,” I said as I slammed the door shut.

Only Michael’s head was visible from the other side of the car, and under the brilliant summer sun, his golden hair shone enough to blind someone. He shot me a smile that made the already bright day seem ten times brighter, and my knees wobbled just like they had when we’d first met. You would think I’d be over that by now. That a surprise pregnancy and the drama we’d been through with his family would have killed the butterflies that had taken up residence in my stomach. But it hadn’t, and I was starting to think nothing could, because I loved this man more than I could have ever thought possible. It was so intense that it felt like something out of a fairy tale or a Nicholas Sparks novel. A love that would transcend time and death and any other obstacle that got in our way.

“It isn’t even that hot yet.” Michael lifted his head toward the flawless blue sky. It was the same color as his eyes, although not nearly as breathtaking. “It’s only June.”

“Great,” I muttered as I headed to the back door, thinking about our shitty little apartment and the nearly useless window unit.

The thing worked in the broad sense of the word. It sputtered out cool air well enough, accompanied by a fine mist of water most of the time. It was all we could afford at the moment though, and even that was only because Michael had given plasma three days a week last summer so he could save up for the thing. Of course, back then we’d had it in our bedroom because I’d been big and round, and so hot that I’d found it impossible to sleep most nights. After he’d installed the little window unit I’d stretched out on the floor in front of it—totally naked—and sighed in contentment as it pinged me with icy drops of water. It had been such a relief that I didn’t even care that I was covered in goose bumps.

Now the window unit was in Cassidy’s room because she needed it more than we did. Although, with this heat wave sweeping the state, I had been seriously considering moving her crib to the master bedroom for the summer so we could all enjoy the bought air.

The back door squeaked in protest when I pulled it open. I leaned in, smiling so big that it made me feel like that freaky cat from Alice in Wonderland, and my eight-month-old daughter smiled back me. She squealed and her blue eyes shimmered the same way her father’s did when he was happy, while on her head the blond ringlets bounced back and forth.

“Hi, princess,” I said as I worked to get her out of the secondhand car seat we’d lucked into.

She squealed again, this time kicking her feet as well. She actually reached out for me, and it did something to my insides. Caused this pang in my chest that made it feel like she was holding my heart in her hand, squeezing it gently the way she did when she wrapped her fingers around one of mine. It was the most beautiful feeling in the history of the world.

I scooped her up and planted a kiss on her forehead as I turned. Michael was ready and waiting with the shitty umbrella stroller I’d managed to scrape up enough money buy. It was from Wal-Mart, so at least it wasn’t secondhand, but it was nothing compared to the fancy things I saw other moms pushing around at the park. Strollers that were made of chrome and converted for all the different stages in your baby’s life, that had baskets underneath so you didn’t have to lug bags around, and cup holders for that five dollar caffeine fix from Starbucks. Luxuries I knew nothing about.

None of that matters, I told myself as I strapped Cassidy into the stroller. One day things will be better. We have time to make something of ourselves. This is just a pit stop in our lives.

Michael was much better with the pep talks than I was.

I stood so I could look him in the eye, the man I loved so much. Our beautiful daughter was between us, strapped into the cheapest stroller money could buy. Next to us the rusty piece of junk that represented our only form of transportation sat baking in the sun, which wasn’t doing the already faded and chipped paint any favors. It had once been red, but now looked more on the pink side, which was a constant source of teasing between Michael and me. I loved pointing out how manly he looked driving around in a pink car. Not that he cared or complained.

“Tell me this is only temporary,” I said.

He couldn’t read my mind, but he knew what I was talking about. We had this same conversation several times a week. Every time a bill came in that I couldn’t pay or we had to spend the last of the money in our checking account on diapers. We were struggling, but we were getting through. Together.

“It’s only temporary.”

He flashed me another smile and I marveled at his straight, white teeth. Teeth that had seen the best orthodontics money could buy as a young teen. Teeth that represented someone who’d had parents who wanted perfection from their child. So much so that when he’d made a mistake they’d decided the only appropriate response was to cut him out of their lives and focus all their efforts on his younger brother.

“You’re happy?” I asked even though I knew he was.

“I’m happy.” He pulled the umbrella stroller back a few steps, maneuvering it behind our piece of shit car. “I don’t need a big house or lots of money. I just need you and Cass.”

When he held his hand out I took it, allowing him to pull me up next to him. I snuggled into his side, loving his body heat even though we were both sticky and gross from the hot summer day. He kissed the top of my head and I pulled back just enough so I could look up into his eyes.

“I love you,” I said.

“Love you,” he replied, and his grin stretched wider. “Now can we please get out of this damn heat?”

I laughed. “Yes. Please.”

He let me go so he could push the stroller and I linked my arm through his as we walked. The mall was packed today and we’d had to park near the back of the lot. In the stroller Cassidy kicked her feet excitedly and squealed. She was a happy baby, thank God, and had only gone through a few bouts of extreme fussiness during her eight months of life. Michael and I had been told by numerous people how difficult this would be, and they’d all been right. Having a baby at the age of eighteen with no help or support was hard, to say the least. But no one had told us how amazing it would be. No one had warned me that this little girl would steal my heart the first time I held her, or that seeing Michael rock her to sleep would make me love him more than ever. No one had told me that all I really needed to be happy were the two people at my side, and that cable and internet were a luxury I wouldn’t miss as long as I told myself that I was doing all of this so I could be with the man I loved and we could raise our baby together.

Michael could have made a much different choice, an easier one that would have had him at Harvard right now—his family Alma Mater—instead of struggling through community college while working forty hours a week. He could have chosen his family over me. But he hadn’t, and I was determined to never let him regret that choice.

I leaned my head against his arm as we walked. “Thanks for choosing me.”

“Thanks for being so amazing,” he replied.

Even with the heat it felt like a picture perfect moment, which of course couldn’t last when you had an infant in tow. We’d just reached the door to the mall when Cassidy spit up. I tried not to groan, but it wasn’t easy, especially knowing that I wouldn’t have the money to go to the laundromat for at least another three days.

Michael stopped outside the mall entrance and knelt in front of the stroller while I dug through the diaper bag I’d slung over my shoulder. Of course, I knew it was pointless. The bag was the only thing I could afford and it was way too small to fit everything I needed, meaning the extra clothes we had were in the car.

“I’m going to have to run back,” I said, holding the bag out for Michael to take. “Get her inside and out of the heat.”

He stood as he took the bag. “I can go.”

I shook my head just as someone passed us on the way into the mall. When they pulled the door open a burst of cool air swept over me and I almost groaned. All I wanted to do was walk around the mall in the AC for a few hours.

“It’s fine,” I lied and held my hand out for the keys.

Michael frowned as he slipped them into my hand, but he didn’t argue. I knew he was tired. He’d worked yesterday after staying up late so he could study for a calculus test, and then he’d been nice enough to let me sleep in when Cassidy got up at six in the morning. The man was a saint, so the least I could do was hike back to the car and grab the extra clothes. Heat or no heat, I owed him that much.

“I’ll be right back,” I said as I walked backward. “Go inside.”

Michael gave me one last smile before heading toward the door.

I turned my back on him and headed across the parking lot, dodging pieces of gum that were baking in the heat and a now melted pile of ice cream that some kid had probably dropped. The sun was directly over me, beating down on my head like it was trying to scorch my scalp. My body was so sticky from sweat that I knew when I finally did make it inside the mall the first burst of cool air would feel too cold and uncomfortable. I could already imagine how the goose bumps would pop up on my moist flesh and how my already wet clothes would cling to my body, almost as if they had been suddenly frozen to my skin.

I unlocked the trunk when I reached our car and the hinges groaned in protest. A woman with two kids under the age of ten passed and gave me a disgusted look. I knew what her expression said, what she thought when she saw me standing beside this piece of junk. I knew that she could somehow tell my clothes were from Goodwill. I did my best to ignore her judgment, but it was impossible. It wasn’t easy getting used to being trash.

This is only temporary, I told myself again.

It took a few minutes of digging through the trunk’s contents to find what I was looking for, but only because I had so many just in case baby items crammed in there that finding the onesie was like going on a scavenger hunt. I held it up to make sure it was clean and a pang twisted my insides. I’d window shopped at baby boutiques countless times, wishing that I could get Cassidy one of the adorable ruffled rompers in the window or the frilly dress that was as impractical as it was beautiful, but this simple onesie was the best I could do. At least it had flowers on it. At least the pattern was pretty and the fabric was soft instead of stark white and scratchy.

I sighed as I slammed the trunk shut, still picturing the romper with the lacy butt and imagining what my little darling would have looked like crawling away from me in that precious little outfit.

One day she will have that, I told myself. One day Cassidy will have everything.

For just a moment, I truly believed it was true.

The blast happened just as I turned to face the mall. The violence of it threw me through the air in a burst of pain and heat, and I landed so hard that all the air whooshed out of my lungs. I couldn’t move, and all around me the world was engulfed in deafening sounds that made it impossible to think. The crunch of metal and glass came from all sides, and above that was a roar I couldn’t comprehend. It was so loud that I had to cover my ears, but that did nothing to block out the noise. It felt like it would crush me with its strength. Like the world was imploding and I would soon be sucked into the heat and noise surrounding me.

Above me, the previously cloudless sky had turned dark. Black and gray clouds bubbled up as if from nowhere and stretched across the sky, growing bigger and darker with each passing second. There was nothing natural about them. They seemed to be centralized, as if they were all coming from the same spot and pushing their way out in hopes of engulfing every inch of blue, and they were darker than even the darkest storm cloud. Threatening. Terrifying.

I had to gasp a few times before I was finally able to fill my lungs, and even though the air was grimy with dirt, it helped bring my mind into sharper focus. My heart was pounding in my ears as I took stock of my body, wiggling fingers and toes, moving limbs. Everything hurt, but there didn’t seem to be any major damage, and once I was sure I was basically okay, I forced myself to sit up.

That’s when the mall came into view. Or at least the spot where the mall had once stood.

“No,” I mumbled as I scrambled over rubble and glass to get to my feet. “No!”

My legs were shaking as I hurried forward, and more than once I fell to the ground, cutting my knees in the process, but I made myself get back up. I couldn’t trust my eyes. I knew it had to be a mirage and that if I could just get there I’d discover that everything was exactly as it was supposed to be. So I ran, passing mangled cars that had been thrown during the blast and heaps of rubble that had come from nowhere. The cars were now on top of one another, reduced to twisted pieces of metal and glass that looked nothing like the vehicles they had once been, and all around me there were piles of rock or mangled metal that had to have come from the blast.

The sky grew darker by the second, and my heart pounded harder with each step I took. The closer I got, the less I was able to deny what I was seeing. It was as if the mall had been blown off the face of the earth or sucked into the ground. There was nothing but a crater now. A hole in the pavement that when I dropped to my knees in front of it and peered down, seemed to go on forever. It was deep and wide and black and crushing in its magnitude.

“No,” I said again, this time covering my face with my hands.

My body shook with sobs, and when another explosion rocked the ground beneath me, this time further away, I was only half aware of it. It wasn’t until another one exploded through the air that I pulled my hands from my face. In the distance, a fireball lit up the sky. Above it there was a mass of dark clouds, just like the ones over my head right now. The little bit of sunlight that was still able to penetrate the darkness glinted off cars as they went flying, and a few seconds later another explosion sounded to my right, and then another to my left, and another behind me until it felt as if I had been sucked into a war movie.

I knew I wasn’t safe where I was, but I couldn’t bring myself to care or leave. The sobs shaking my body were too violent, too devastating. It felt as if I would explode just as the mall had, and I couldn’t find it in me to care. Not even a little.

It wasn’t until I squeezed my hands into fists that I realized I was holding something. I looked down and blinked, but I had to force my fingers to relax so I could open my hand. The little purple flowers on the onesie felt like knives in my chest, and in that moment I knew I would never be the same.

* * *

Chapter Two

Five years later…

Daisy had her hand behind her back when she slipped into the room and plopped down next to me. A puff of dust floated into the air and the cot groaned under the extra weight, but I knew from experience that it would hold. This wasn’t the first time Daisy had dropped onto my bed like she owned the place.

“Guess what I have.” She was grinning from ear to ear, which wasn’t anything new.

“Herpes?” I arched my eyebrows knowingly.

Last week she’d crawled into bed with a guy who’d been out with his platoon for nearly two months. I’d tried to tell her it was a bad idea, condoms were hard if not impossible to get these days, and I knew what those people did during their down time. She never listened to me though, and that day had been no exception.

She rolled her brown eyes but her smile didn’t fade. “Of course not.”

“What then?”

The room was dark, lit only by the small flame flickering in the corner, but even in the limited light I was struck by how greasy her blond hair was. Not that mine was any better. Last night before I’d gone to bed I’d reworked my braid, weaving the tendrils together so they’d stay out of my face. The stiffness of my hair would have made me cringe if I wasn’t used to it by now. At least I didn’t have to worry about the braid coming loose, and at least we got the opportunity to freshen up between showers. These days you had to be thankful for small favors, and in the light of everything going on, being able to wash my hair every couple weeks was a big one.

Daisy whipped her hand out from behind her back so fast that I jerked away. I was afraid that in her enthusiasm she might accidentally slam whatever she was holding into my face. It was a bottle, but I had to squint before I could make out the words on the label.

“Champagne?” I lifted my eyebrows even higher when I met her gaze.

Daisy nodded enthusiastically. “David, the guy you told me not to sleep with, had it. He found it a few weeks ago in the rubble of some building and decided to give it to me.” She lifted her chin at the last word, posing for a moment before laughing. “I figured today was a good day to open it.”

My stomach dropped as she ripped the foil off and began to untwist the metal that helped keep the cork in place. Was it June seventh already? No. It couldn’t be.

Mentally I tried to tabulate the date, but it was impossible. I never knew what day it was until something big popped up, and June seventh was the one date I always tried to avoid, and the one no one ever let me forget. It snuck up like a burglar trying to rid me of every valuable thing I owned. Why anyone bothered to keep track of it I didn’t know, but they did. It was like a celebration around here, although for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why.

“Five years ago today I had just gotten home from my sophomore year of college.” Daisy tossed the metal and foil aside but didn’t pop the cork. Instead she placed the bottle on the cot between us while she recounted what might have been the last normal day of our lives. “I hadn’t even unpacked my car and my mom was already hounding me about a summer job. That night I met up with a few friends from high school and we went down to the lake.” She paused just like she always did when she got to this part of the story. “We talked about going to a movie the next afternoon, but I drank too much and overslept. They went without me…”

The sentence trailed off, the words left unsaid but not unknown. If she had gone to a movie she would have died along with her friends. I knew because I’d heard this story before, at least a dozen times, but also because I’d been there, at the mall where the movie theater had been. Or in the parking lot, anyway. Not that I’d ever admitted that to my friend.

Daisy exhaled and popped the cork. It went flying, hitting the ceiling above us and making her laugh. She shook her head before putting the bottle to her lips and sucking a mouthful of champagne down, but I never said a word and I didn’t crack a smile. She acted like she didn’t notice, but I knew she did. She’d given up asking me about that day years ago.

In the beginning, back in the early days when we’d first met, Daisy had tried over and over again to learn what I’d been up to when it all happened. Who I’d been and if I’d had family. But I’d refused. Five years later the pain hadn’t dulled and I still found the past impossible to talk about, so I didn’t. Not with Daisy, who was probably the closest friend I’d ever had, and not with anyone else.

She held the bottle out to me. “Five years.”

I took it. “Five years.”

The first swig was too big and I almost choked on the bubbles. I’d forgotten what it was like to drink carbonated beverages, how it tickled your sinuses if you weren’t careful, how if you took too big of a drink it felt like you were swallowing air. My second drink was smaller and easier to get down. Even though the alcohol was warm, it was good. Dry but surprisingly smooth.

Daisy and I drank in silence, passing the bottle back and forth in the darkness of my room. Already I was feeling a buzz. I had only been up for a few hours and I knew it wasn’t even noon yet, not that I felt bad about getting drunk this early in the day. I hadn’t been drunk in more than six years, and that had been the night Cassidy was conceived. The night that Michael, the love of my life, had come home from his freshman year of college telling me how much he missed me, and how he didn’t want to go back. We’d sipped beers down by the river and then made love on a blanket. Three weeks later I’d found out I was pregnant and our whole lives had changed.

“I miss electricity,” Daisy said after a while.

I nodded, still thinking about Michael and Cassidy.

“I miss hamburgers,” she said next.

I nodded again, trying to conjure up an image of their faces and falling short. It had been close to a year since I’d been certain that the pictures in my head were real. At this point, I was pretty sure the Cassidy I remembered was a combination of my baby and all the other babies I’d seen on the covers of old magazines since then. I couldn’t figure out if the way her hair had curled at the base of her neck had been real or something I’d imagined, or if she’d actually had a dimple in her right cheek.

For some reason, Michael was even harder to picture.

Daisy watched me as she took another drink, her brown eyes narrow and as sharp as darts. When she set the bottle down, she sighed. “You have nothing to say?”

I shrugged.

“Shit, Diana,” she spit out. “You never tell me anything.”

I couldn’t hold onto my indifference, and I suddenly found myself shrinking away under my friend’s annoyance. Daisy had never raised her voice to me before, had never tried to push me to share anything. I wanted to tell myself that she was being unfair, but deep down I knew it wasn’t true. She had a right to be pissed. I knew everything about Daisy’s past, from what street she’d grown up on to how old she’d been when she lost her virginity, as well as who it was with. Stewart Townsend, who had a name that made him sound like he should be the captain of the chess team, but who’d had a body like a Greek God. At least according to Daisy.

“Look—” She set the bottle between us. “—I know you lost something big, much bigger than what I lost, and I get that it’s hard, but it’s been five years and things are never going to get better unless you deal with it. You have to let the blood dry sometime.”

I looked down at my left hand, at the cheap ring I still wore on my finger. It was scratched and dented now, but I hadn’t taken it off once in the last five years. I didn’t plan to either.

“I just can’t bring myself to say the words,” I said, twisting the silver band on my finger.

Daisy scooped the bottle back up and nudged my arm with it. “If you drink enough, maybe you will.”

I took it, but deep down I knew there wasn’t enough champagne left in the bottle, maybe even in the whole world, to ease this pain. I was convinced that people who used to drink to feel better had either been fooling themselves or were a lot less heartbroken than I was. It was impossible to know for sure though, since every drunk who survived the invasion had long ago gone through detox. The only thing people did in excess these days was sleep.

I took a swig of the champagne before offering it to Daisy again, this time forcing myself to meet her gaze. “If I was going to tell anyone it would be you. You know that, right?”

She took the bottle from me. “I know, and I’m not trying to force you into doing anything you don’t want to. I’m just worried about you.”

Maybe she had a reason to be.

I wasn’t feeling any more talkative when we’d finished the bottle, even if my brain did feel like it was floating above my head. The alcohol content on the label said twelve percent, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered if it had been six percent. Between our rations being low and my body being unused to drinking, I probably could have gotten drunk off one sip.

The room actually swayed when I stood.

“Thank God I don’t have patrol for another six hours,” I said, grabbing the wall for support.

Daisy giggled. It was the first time I’d ever heard her make such a girly sound. “I’m on in two.”

“Daisy,” I said, shaking my head.

She only shrugged. “I guess we should get some coffee?”

“If there is any.”

Not that the stuff we called coffee could have passed for the liquid five years ago. It was too weak and tasted burnt most of the time since we had to cook it over a fire, but it was all we had. When we had it, which was getting more and more uncommon with each passing day. We all knew that it wouldn’t be long before things like coffee and chocolate became extinct, and even though the idea of the old world slipping away got to me sometimes, I tried to instead focus on the fact that I was still alive and kicking.

Daisy headed for the door and I followed, pausing just long enough to blow out the small wick I had burning on the way by. It was just a piece of cloth in a bowl of animal fat, and only really bright enough to keep me from tripping or slamming into furniture, but I’d almost gotten used to the dim light after all these years. Whenever I did go outside during the day I felt like a vampire stepping out into the sun for the first time. The kind that burst into flames, not the kind that sparkled. Not that sunshine existed anymore, but it still felt bright outside compared to the darkness of the building.

The hallway was as dim as my room had been. Lanterns hung from the ceiling every ten feet or so, giving off just enough light to help you get where you were going in one piece, but not enough to really let you see much of anything. The building we lived in had once housed a different office on each floor. A law firm on one and an architectural firm on another, to name a couple. This floor had belonged to an advertising agency and was cut up into more than a dozen small offices with a larger open area in the center. Not that it was open now. Dividers had long ago been set up to give people their own private space, and in some areas desks had even been stacked on top of one another to form walls. I’d gotten lucky and snagged a back office that only had one window, which was now covered by boards, so I had a door on my room. Some of the living spaces I passed had nothing more than a sheet hanging across the opening or literally no privacy at all. Daisy lived one floor up in what I was pretty sure was a maintenance closet. Not that it mattered to her how big it was. There was enough room for her cot and a few shelves to stack her things on. These days that was the most a person needed.

“Another platoon is coming in today,” she said as we squeezed our way down the tiny hall that had been created in the formerly open room.

We passed an open doorway and I spied someone stretched out on a thin mattress, trying to grab some sleep despite the noise radiating through the room. It was too dark to see who it was, but I had no doubt that he or she had gotten off patrol and was so tired sleep wouldn’t be an issue. I’d been there dozens of times.

“Where are they coming from this time?” I asked Daisy.

“Not sure. I heard Parker on the radio as I was headed up to see you.” She grinned and I knew what was coming before she said it. “I get first dibs.”

I rolled my eyes because she always said this even though it was never necessary. Five years after I’d watched my husband and daughter get blown up, I still hadn’t slept with anyone else. I couldn’t even imagine it. Couldn’t stomach the idea of letting someone else touch me, of kissing anyone other than Michael. I didn’t know how to heal, but I was certain climbing into bed with a new man wasn’t the way.

“You’re going to get pregnant.”

“We’re careful.”

Daisy passed under a lantern just as she wiggled her eyebrows in my direction, but I didn’t ask. I may have known almost everything about her, but that didn’t mean I needed to hear the intimate details of her sex life.

We reached the end of the hall and ducked into the stairwell. It boomed with the echo of footsteps, making it impossible to talk, which I was more than grateful for. Daisy was ahead of me, keeping to the right as we made our way down so we didn’t bump into anyone going up. The lanterns in here were on every other landing, but the light barely carried and everyone knew to keep to the right.

The sound of children crying and laughing and playing grew as we neared the floor below mine, and just like every other time I heard the noise, my stomach tightened. We kept the families with kids together, housed above the home guard headquarters on the first floor, but close to the exit in case we needed to make a quick escape. It hadn’t been an issue yet and I’d been here for over four years, but it was protocol and we clung to protocol like a man thrown overboard clinging to a life raft. It kept us alive.

I moved faster, hoping to flee the sound even though I knew I might bump into Daisy. I did of course, and she swore but didn’t complain. She wasn’t a moron. We’d changed in front of one another more times than I could count and I knew she’d seen my C-section scar, knew she had a pretty good idea what I’d lost that day five years ago. She was my friend though, and despite her little outburst in my room less than fifteen minutes earlier, she was going to be there for me whether or not I chose to open up to her. Which made me love her more than anyone else still alive.

We reached the first floor and stepped out into the lobby. It was buzzing with activity, but also three times brighter than the rest of the building thanks to the barrel fires set up around the room. People who were coming back from patrol were checking in while those who were leaving were checking out, but most of the activity came from the far side of the room where a dirty and exhausted looking group sat huddled on the floor.

Daisy was already smoothing her hair down when she headed their way, not that she needed it. For one, every strand was weighed down by grease. For two, these guys would have been happy to see her even if she wasn’t gorgeous. Dirt and grease and all.

“What do you think?” she said out of the corner of her mouth as we got closer.

I shrugged because I didn’t see this group the way she did. I saw men and women who were so tired they could hardly stand, not a potential meat market. Not that she was heartless. Daisy always let the guys know she was just trying to live life to the fullest. She never led anyone on.

I scanned the faces anyway, trying to look past the exhaustion and dirt etched in every line of the men in front of me. It was hard looking at them and trying to decide if they were good-looking. Since Michael’s death, I hadn’t been attracted to anyone. Not once.

A man at the back of the group grabbed my attention and my breath caught in my throat. The light from the nearby fire flickered off the side of his face, casting shadows across one side while highlighting the other. He had a helmet on his head and dirt smeared across his cheek. There was a scar above his left eyebrow that was maybe an inch long and stubble on his face that told me he’d been able to shave sometime within the last week, but it was his blue eyes that stood out. They were filled with exhaustion, but so familiar that I found myself stepping forward. Then he turned his head so he could say something to the man next to him, putting his face more directly in the light of the fire and I saw it. Saw the resemblance that was so striking it made a face flit through my memory clearly for the first time in a year.

“Michael,” I whispered.

“Diana?”

Daisy grabbed my arm, but I couldn’t look away. I was stuck in a time warp that pulled me back to a life that now felt more like a dream than reality. To a man who was long dead, but somehow sitting right in front of me.

The man turned his face again and Michael disappeared. I shook my head, the spell broken, and closed my eyes. The pain in my chest was so sharp it took my breath away. I felt disoriented. Lost. Confused.

“Diana?” Daisy said again. I opened my eyes to find her brown eyes trained on me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

“Smith, Foster,” Sergeant Anderson barked, drawing our attention his way.

He was a burly guy, despite our rations. Short and stocky, with forearms that seemed too big for his small frame and light brown skin that made him look like he’d just come back from a vacation in Florida. He’d been active duty Army when all this went down, and even though most of the military guys had long ago stopped trying to keep their hair regulation length, he was one of the few who still found time to trim his dark hair every few weeks. His beard, however, was so out of control that I sometimes wondered if every hair he cut off his head hadn’t somehow found a home on his face.

“Sergeant Hendrix and her platoon could use some help getting settled in,” he said when we stopped at his side.

He nodded to the tall woman next to him. She had wild red hair that was so wavy it defied the ponytail she’d tried to capture it in, and freckles dotting every inch of her exposed skin. Her broad shoulders brought the Olympics to mind, and made me remember the female swimmers I’d once loved watching so much. They’d had bodies just like the woman in front of me, all lean and muscular and ready for action.

“I’d love to help them get settled in,” Daisy purred.

“That’s not what I meant,” Sergeant Anderson said, and then he narrowed his dark eyes at her. “Son of a bitch, Smith. Have you been drinking?”

“Champagne.” She shrugged because she didn’t scare easily, but also because she and I were no longer members of the militia or home guard or any other unit that still existed. “It’s been five years.”

“Shit.” Anderson’s eyes snapped to me. “You sober?”

“Sober enough to show a platoon around.”

The sergeant rolled his eyes before turning back to the exhausted platoon. “Foster here is going to show you around,” he called, and I saw the man at the back, the one I’d mistaken for Michael, perk up. “She’ll show you where the showers are, but keep them short and sweet. We like to conserve our water and the rain’s been light this week. When you’ve all had a chance to get cleaned up she’ll get you a bunk. Get some rest. Dinner is at 0600. Don’t be late.”

He nodded once to Sergeant Hendrix before turning away.

The female sergeant gave me a once over like she wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to fall on my ass. “Lead the way, Foster.”

“Diana,” I corrected her as I started walking, motioning for her to follow me.

Hendrix only nodded, which told me that she wasn’t really interested in being on a first name basis. Not that it mattered. These guys would be in and out in a matter of days. This was just a pit stop for them because platoons like this had no permanent home. They traveled the country trying to infiltrate the now quiet hives that were set up all over the country, braving the new world we lived in. It was a noble thing to do because being out there was creepy as hell. Like stepping into a science fiction movie or through a portal to another planet. In the city it wasn’t too bad because they had settled in more open areas, but once you got out into what had formerly been farms and fields and forests, the world was a different place.

The bomb that had destroyed the mall and my life had only been the beginning. The explosions had happened all over the state, all over the country, and probably all over the world. The craters that were left behind by the blasts had been huge, deep and wide and seemingly endless, but they hadn’t been the worst part. Less than twenty-four hours later things had started growing out of them. Foreign vines and plants that wove their way across the ground and over anything in their path, they’d covered cars and roads and buildings and continued to spread out while above us the skies grew darker. The clouds blotted out every inch of blue sky, making it impossible for even a single ray of sun to get through, slowly killing most of the plants that were native to this planet. The animals weren’t far behind. Species dropped left and right, dying when the food or people they’d depended on disappeared. That was why we lived in the city now. That was why we were crammed into office buildings instead of living in houses and enjoying the world. Because the world we had known five years ago no longer existed.

The showers were on the first floor at the far end. We were fortunate enough that this building had installed a gym for its employees, and that some genius had figured out how to collect rainwater from outside and funnel it in. We had a pretty regular supply thanks to our new atmosphere—apparently these assholes liked to be wet—but we still had to ration it because we needed water to drink too. The showers weren’t hot, that was a luxury we’d probably never have again, but it didn’t matter. These days, no one would complain about the temperature of the water during their bi-weekly showers.

The platoon didn’t talk much as I led them through the building, but I could hear Daisy’s quiet chatter at the back of the group and I knew she’d found her guy. When I glanced over my shoulder I could just see the top of her blond head. The guy at her side was her typical type: tall and broad and not white. Daisy was as white as the flower she was named after, but I hadn’t seen her hook up with a single white guy. Hispanic, Black, Indian, and Asian, yes. White, no way. I’d asked her once why and she’d simply told me that she preferred diversity in her life. Not that I cared who she slept with just as long as they didn’t give her anything or get her knocked up.

We reached the locker rooms and I nodded to the door as I turned to face Hendrix. “This is it. Everything you need should be inside.”

The sergeant nodded once before turning to her platoon. “Let’s get in and out so we can grab some shuteye. We have five hours until chow time and less than seventy-two hours until we head out again.” Her gaze zeroed in on the guy Daisy had latched onto. “I want everyone’s focus on rest.”

The guy nodded, but the way his dark eyes focused on Daisy told me sleep was the last thing on his mind. He was around thirty, older than her but not by much, and I was sure that anyone who wasn’t nursing a severe case of heartache would have said he was attractive. He’d shaved his head and his jaw was just as smooth. Next to Daisy his skin looked dark, but it was just because she was so freaking pale, because his complexion would be better described as caramel than brown.

“Foster,” an unfamiliar voice called out.

I turned at the sound of my name only to find that the guy I’d mistaken for Michael had done the same. That’s when I realized who he was. Foster wasn’t an uncommon name and if I hadn’t already mistaken this guy for my dead husband in a moment of drunkenness I would have passed it off as nothing, but it would be impossible to now. Shit. He was Michael’s younger brother.

* * *

Want to read more? You can grab The Blood Will Dry on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited!

Tribe of Daughters

Chapter One

Jameson

The rain outside falls in thick sheets that makes it seem like it’s trying to wash us away, and all I can do is cower in my tent and wonder how the cold sank deep enough inside my body to turn my blood to ice. And how the hell I ended up here to begin with.

Forge A New Frontier!

The company slogan was just upbeat enough to trick me into signing on the dotted line, and the next thing I knew, I was on a train headed west. Now I realize how idiotic I’d been, but at the time it seemed like an adventure. The load of cash they’d promised probably had a little something to do with how blind I’d been as well. It’s damn hard to see straight when someone dangles that many dollar signs in front of your face, especially when your life has been a pile of shit for as long as you can remember.

Of course, the asshole who recruited me failed to mention that most of these trips ended with half the crew dying of things like cholera or dysentery. Illnesses no one should have these days, not even in the cities where the air is thick with pollution and garbage lines the streets. Out here, though, where civilization slipped away decades ago and has stayed extinct, anything goes.

The tent flap gets shoved open, letting in a burst of rain and wind, and Daniel ducks inside a second later. “It’s comin’ down like a monsoon out there.”

He yanks his hat off and shakes it, throwing drops of rain across the tent, and shivers shoot through my body.

“It’s wet enough in here, you asshole,” I grumble and pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “Should have kept my ass where I was.”

Daniel drops at my side and flashes me teeth the color of the weak tea my mom used to drink, courtesy of the chewing tobacco he can’t go a second without. He’s only a little older than my twenty-seven years, but he looks like he has at least a decade on me. A jagged scar runs up one side of his face, from his jaw to the corner of his eye, and poorly drawn tattoos cover most of his arms. He’s also missing a front tooth and the little finger on his right hand, almost like he’s falling apart one piece at a time.

“Just a little rain,” he says in a voice that wheezes its way out of him. “I been through worse.”

I don’t doubt it—for him this trip wasn’t optional; it was this or jail—but I keep my thoughts about how he probably deserves worse to myself.

“Yeah, well, my life has always been shit, but at least I was usually dry,” I say, wondering if jail could possibly be worse than sitting in a mud puddle in the middle of nowhere.

“Everybody’s life is shit these days.” Daniel’s mouth scrunches up like he’s about to spit, but he stops when I pin him with a glare icy enough to freeze the devil in hell.

He isn’t wrong. Things haven’t been good for decades. The plague that killed off most of the population seventy years ago is long gone, but we sure as hell haven’t recovered. I’ve seen movies about the old west and pioneers who braved savage people and wild, untamed lands, and the scenario isn’t too far from where we are now. In fact, if it wasn’t for the technology left over from the old days, I’m sure we’d be right back there.

Not that it does the average person a lot of good. The cars still running are reserved for the wealthy since oil production is slow and expensive, and electricity comes and goes most of the time. Growing up, a night with no lights and no heat wasn’t uncommon, and I should be used to freezing my ass off the way I am, but this trip isn’t anything like I expected.

This damn trip.

I shake my head thinking about it. The railroad company promised me a decent chunk of money up front and a shit ton when I returned home, and it had all seemed so simple when I signed up. Even now, hunkered down in a shitty tent while it pours buckets, I’m not sure where I went wrong. We go out in a group and repair the train tracks damaged from years of disuse. No problem, right? Except there’s only one working train, so they had no intention of leaving it with us. We could have used trucks, but these days gasoline is more valuable than gold, which means we’ve been traveling across the country in wagons pulled by horses. Another detail conveniently left out of the company’s sales pitch.

“Should have stayed back in Baltimore,” I mutter to myself.

Daniel hoots like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard, and I stifle an urge to punch him.

I’m in the middle of glaring at him when a shout rises up outside. It’s barely audible over the pounding rain, but the whinny of the horses is loud and clear despite the storm, and it has my back stiffening as thoughts of wild animals flip through my mind. I heard a rumor that the last group had an altercation with a pack of lions. The cats aren’t indigenous to the area, but before the plague, parks displaying all kinds of exotic animals dotted the country, and a lot of them were released when people realized the end was near. Some species have thrived in the wild, especially out here where there are no humans left.

I’ve never seen a lion in person, but I’ve seen pictures, and the last thing I want is to have one of them sink their teeth into me. So I stay where I am and pull my blanket tighter around my shoulders like the thin fabric will keep me safe.

More shouting breaks through the air, this time angry, even violent sounding. There’s something distinctly feminine about the voices, which makes no sense because there are no women on this trip, and even though I don’t want to get my face eaten off, I find myself getting to my feet.

“What do you think is goin’ on out there?” Daniel asks, not bothering to drag himself up off the ground.

“No clue.”

Part of me thinks I should go check it out, but the idea of getting soaked again when I’ve barely gotten dry sounds as unappealing as getting eaten by a lion. Even when more yelling joins in the ruckus, I don’t move. My feet stay rooted to the semi-dry floor of my tent while my heart pounds harder and harder with each passing second. Someone lets out an agonizing howl, and the sound raises the hair on my arms even higher than the goose bumps did, but I still don’t move.

“What the—”

Daniel’s words get cut off when the tent flap bursts open. I stumble back, but it’s the sight of the person who leaps inside that knocks me on my ass. It’s a woman all right, but like none I’ve ever seen. Animal hides wrap around her body, secured by leather strips that crisscross over her chest and waist. They wind around her legs, too, giving off the impression that with a simple tug her clothes will fall to the ground. She towers over me, the muscles in her arms straining against the leather when she raises a bow. She has her dark hair slicked back, not from the rain but with mud, and black paint covers most of her face. Intelligent, pale blue eyes sweep across the inside of the tent, going from Daniel to me and back again, taking in every detail in less than a second before she releases her arrow.

It flies through the air, piercing Daniel in the heart before he has a chance to blink. He opens his mouth, and a wet cry bubbles up, joined a moment later by blood spraying from his lips and running down his face and neck. His body drops to the ground.

Then the woman is on me, her bow somehow gone and in its place a knife carved from bone, its blade long and pointed enough to prick the skin on my neck with little effort, drawing blood. I let out a low hiss of pain, but don’t move an inch.

“You are healthy?” the woman asks in a dialect as foreign as she is.

She has her knees planted firmly on my chest, her feet on each side of my torso to steady herself. Blue eyes narrow as they take me in, reminding me of the way starving children stare at cakes through bakery windows, and my pulse quickens at the predatory expression.

“Yeah,” I whisper, barely moving my lips, terrified she’ll slice my throat open.

“Yes?” Her voice goes up in a questioning tone like she doesn’t understand.

“Yes,” I clarify.

Her head bobs once, and she gets to her feet, pulling me with her. Even standing, I have to strain to look up at her, because she has to be well over six feet, and her firm grip on my arm will most definitely be leaving a purple handprint behind.

“You will come,” she says, dragging me toward the flap of the tent.

I do as I’m told, and her grip doesn’t loosen as she drags me forward, my feet tripping over blankets and other items. We step outside, leaving the relatively dry tent behind, as well as Daniel’s body, and the wind and rain pound against my face. I’m not wearing shoes, and the muddy earth is cold beneath my bare feet. The woman holding me doesn’t let go, but she does change positions. She keeps the blade at my throat while moving behind me, her free arm around my chest and the knife still against my throat.

“Walk,” she calls over the rain.

Several of the other tents are torn open, their sides now gaping holes that flap in the wind. Most of the lights seem to have been extinguished in the scuffle, but the few still working reveal a bizarre scene where primitive women dressed in leather hold men at their mercy. Through the rain and darkness I count six other men, all of them kneeling in the mud with their hands tied behind their backs. Four women stand over them, loaded down with homemade bows and spears, while three more gather the horses.

“One more,” the woman at my back calls.

When we reach the others, she kicks the back of my knees and I go down, relieved that the knife seems to have disappeared from my neck. I hit the ground, and mud squishes under my knees, and a second later my arms are yanked behind my back and tied. Around my wrists then at the elbows, making the muscles in my shoulders ache.

“Do not move,” the woman behind me says before releasing my arm.

To say I’m too shocked to do anything is an understatement. I search the darkness, trying to find the men in their group, but there are only women. Eight in all, and every one is muscular and broad, reminding me of the prizefighters I used to go see and how they would dedicate every free second they had to lifting weights, knowing it was the best way to escape the poverty they’d grown up with. But these are women, and this isn’t the city, and I doubt they’re on their way to a ring to beat the shit out of each other.

The women talk back and forth while they go about gathering things. Their words are slow, overly pronounced, their dialect making them sound simple even though they’re clearly intelligent and organized. They dig through tents and wagons, and toss away things like food and money and shoes, but take common items like glass jars. Nothing they do makes sense, but they seem to have a purpose in everything, and they work together like a finely tuned machine or the cogs in a watch, winding around and around, hour after hour in perfect harmony.

The only issue comes when they discuss the wagons. Two of the women, the tall one who grabbed me and another one with skin the color of coffee beans, want to load the supplies onto a wagon, while the other women want to leave it behind.

A woman with gray, stringy hair lifts her hands before the discussion gets too heated. “I am Elder Warrior, and I will choose,” she calls. “It cannot make the trip up the mountain, and we do not want anyone coming after it. We will leave the vehicle behind.”

The other seven women turn their backs on the wagon like her decision is law.

When they head our way, I stiffen, and for the first time wonder what our fate will be. These women kept the seven of us alive for a reason, but what that reason is, I can’t even begin to guess. Are they hoping to hold us for ransom? If so, they’re going to be disappointed. The men who signed up for this detail did it because they had no money, no family, and no hope. We are worthless in the eyes of the rest of the world.

“Stand,” the woman with the dark skin says when she stops in front of us. “We will go now.”

I struggle to my feet, finding it difficult to maintain my balance with my arms tied behind my back the way they are. The ground is slick with mud, and two men actually slide and start to lose their footing, but the women are there to brace them before they have a chance to fall. With the heavy rain coming down, it’s tough to make out the faces of the men at my side, and the two I can see, I can’t put names to. We’ve been on the road for a couple weeks, but I’ve been too miserable to take the time to get to know anyone other than Daniel, and that wasn’t by choice.

“Move,” a woman at my back barks.

She shoves me, but it isn’t hard enough to make me fall, just enough to get me moving. I walk, cringing when cold mud squishes between my toes, and follow the other men and women toward the horses. There are half a dozen animals, but eight women and seven men, and I can picture the women riding the horses through the rain as they lead us behind them, tied together by rope. But that isn’t what happens, and I watch almost dumbfounded as one by one the men are helped onto the horses.

When it’s my turn, one of the women holds me steady while another laces her fingers together and kneels and motions for me to use her hands as a foothold. I slip my mud-covered foot into her hands while the woman at my back gives me a push and the one in front hoists me up, and I find myself sprawled across the horse on my stomach. Some careful maneuvering by the women fixes that, though, and once I’m straddling the animal, the broad woman who killed Daniel climbs on with me.

I sit behind her, my arms still behind my back and my body shivering from the cold. A leather strap is tied around our waists, securing me to the woman, and someone throws a thick blanket of fur over my shoulders.

All around me, the other men are in the same positions, already on horses or being helped onto one. The women are silent, focused on their task. They gather the items they salvaged from our wrecked camp and tie them into bundles, attaching them to the horses. The aroma of wet fur is heavy in my nostrils, along with the salty scent of body odor from the woman in front of me. The smell isn’t sweat or filth, which is how the vagrants in the city smell, but earthier. Dirt and rain and pine, with a hint of perspiration. Not pleasant, but nothing to cringe away from.

When everyone is seated, we take off, moving in a line. There are twelve of us on horses, the front horse holding two men instead of one prisoner and a woman, while three women lead the group on foot, carrying bundles of stolen goods and weapons. The woman in front of me rides like a pro, using the horse’s mane and a gentle press of her heels to lead it where she wants it to go. The pace is slow, but with the fur around my shoulders, I’m surprisingly warm.

It isn’t long before the rain tapers off, but even once the deafening noise of the storm is gone, no one talks, and the only sound is the steady beat of the horses’ hooves against the ground as they squish through the mud. There’s nothing but darkness upon darkness as far as the eye can see. Even the stars have been blotted out by the thick cover of clouds, and with the never-ending blackness in front of us, I can’t help wondering if these women are dragging me to hell.

After an hour or so of riding, my ass already hurts. It’ll be numb by the time we make it to wherever these women are taking us. It’s still night, but in the distance something has begun to form, pulling itself from the blackness like a rat climbing from a sewer. It’s a continuous shape, swallowing up the horizon. A mountain, maybe, or a forest. It’s hard to tell with the thick darkness hanging over us.

The woman in front of me is as stoic as she is muscular, so I doubt she’ll tell me a thing, but after hours of riding in silent suspense, I find it impossible to stay quiet. “Where are we going?”

“Our village.” She doesn’t even look back, and she doesn’t elaborate.

A million other questions go through my head, but I say nothing because I’m too afraid to hear the answer to most of them.

We go back to riding in silence.

The rain may have stopped, but the air is still wet, and my body is covered in goose bumps thanks to my damp clothes. Even the fur draped around my shoulders can’t block out the chill in my bones, and I bounce back and forth between sweating and freezing as, in the distance, the sky turns orange. In the dawn of a new day, I’m able to see I was right and the massive shape looming in front of us is, in fact, a mountain.

The light also helps me get a better look at our captors. They’re wild, the very definition of savage, and their leather clothes homemade, as are their weapons. The fur draped around my shoulders isn’t a blanket, but a pelt that looks like it was peeled right from an animal’s body. Still, in the light of day, there’s something beautiful about these women. About their strength and power and the way they carry themselves with their heads held high. Wherever they’re from, it’s obvious they’ve been secluded from the outside world for a very long time. Possibly since the plague.

When I glance over my shoulder, the eyes of the woman on the horse behind me bore into mine. Her skin is the color of coffee beans and her irises only a shade lighter, and she has her hair shaved to the scalp, revealing every follicle on her head, and muscled forearms that flex with each step the horse makes. She’d be beautiful, with defined cheekbones and full lips, if there was anything soft about her at all. But there isn’t. She’s as hard and unyielding as steel.

In that moment, with her gaze holding mine, a new and terrifying possibility occurs to me, and the shiver that shakes my body has nothing to do with the dampness sinking into my bones. These women could be cannibals. Those groups existed, back in the early days after the plague when food was scarce and life was hard, and though it’s believed they all died out years ago, it’s possible some still exist. Hidden away from civilization, wild and savage like these women.

When a second shiver moves through me, I pull my gaze from the woman and hunch my shoulders like it will make me invisible. More than ever, I wish I hadn’t let that damn railroad company sucker me with promises of good fortune. I should have known shit like that doesn’t exist anymore, especially not for a guy like me.

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Outliers

First Place Winner in the 2018 Kindle Books Awards for Sci-Fi/Fantasy Fiction

Finalist in the 2018 Wishing Shelf Book Awards

Chapter One

The feast was the biggest one yet. After three years of working in the House of Saffron, I should have been used to it. But there were days when no matter what I did, I found it impossible to block out the sights and smells that accompanied my job. The smoky fragrance of roasted meat that begged my stomach to pay it mind, and the mountain of mashed potatoes, complete with rivers of melted butter carving their way through the peaks. No matter how hard I tried to ignore it all, there were moments when my senses took over. On those days my arms and legs worked on muscle memory alone. Carrying the bottle of wine, pouring it ever so carefully so as not to ruin the fine clothes of the people sitting around the table. Serving the dessert, baked apples with cinnamon or raspberries sprinkled with chocolate, all things that never once in my twenty-four years of life had passed my lips. Things that made my mouth water and my knees threaten to give out. Things that my stomach begged for.

Today was one of those days.

It was to be expected. Yesterday had been a bad day, so I had taken my meager rations from the kitchen home to Anja and our mother. It was something that the head housemaid frowned upon, but as long as I only did it sparingly, she chose to look the other way.

“Indra.”

The sound of my name cutting through the conversation snapped my brain into focus. Saffron was at the head of the table, sitting with her back so straight that it looked as if she had a board tied to it, and she was waving me over.

“Mistress.” I bowed when I stopped at her side, careful to keep my head down.

She was a short woman, as were all the Sovereign, and standing with my head dipped the way it was meant that we were practically eye to eye. This close up her skin appeared fake. It was the same pale shade as everyone who lived in the city, but waxy and much too smooth to belong to a woman more than half a century old. Her cold eyes were the same shade of gray as her hair, and she possessed a healthy roundness that signified her station in life, yet did not boast the same gluttony most of the other Sovereign’s bodies did. Standing next to her always made me feel like a withered leaf that would soon be blown away by the wind, and today was no different.

“Your master just had the most wonderful thought,” Saffron paused the way she always did when she spoke. It was her way of making sure everyone was paying attention, something she should have been unconcerned about within these walls. When the head of this house spoke, it felt like the whole world was holding its breath. “Do you know of someone in need of a job?”

I kept my head low, but my eyes snapped up faster than usual. Was this a trick? Saffron had no sense of humor, but the request still felt wrong. The Sovereign had not created a new position in decades. Our jobs were passed down from generation to generation. Three years ago, when my mother had gotten too sick to keep working, I had taken her place, just as she had taken the place of her mother when she was a young woman.

“A young boy, perhaps?” Saffron continued when I said nothing. “It’s just that Lysander is about to become a man and I’m sure he could use a Hand to help him throughout the day. He will be starting his own life very soon, you know.”

I did know. Everyone knew that the son of Saffron and Bastian was about to marry. The house had been preparing for the celebration for nearly a year. I was also painfully aware of the fact that Saffron’s only child had been a man for many years now. A man who preyed on the kitchen staff, who cornered women in the pantry and had his way with them. I had been in that position myself, but only once after first arriving at the house. After that I had learned how to watch my back, being careful never to make myself vulnerable so I would be forced to endure the humiliation of that day again. Not that my efforts had prevented other women from succumbing to the same fate. It was impossible to recount how many times I had been forced to stand by and do nothing as the pleas of another woman penetrated the pantry door. There was nothing for me to do, of course, but I hated myself all the same. Lysander of Saffron was a monster, and yet he was among the class that ruled our little world, and Outliers like myself were powerless to do anything to stop it.

Saffron’s gray eyes held mine as she waited for my response. They were like two stones, as cold and emotionless as she was, and yet sincere. She was being genuine in her inquiry, and even though I found it impossible to understand the motivation behind her sudden goodwill gesture, hope bloomed in my chest. A position like this could change a family’s life.

“I do, Mistress,” I said, once again lowering my eyes. With Saffron, or any of the Sovereign for that matter, eye contact needed to be kept as brief as possible. “I know the perfect boy for the position.”

“He isn’t too young, is he?” Bastian asked, and as always I found it difficult not to cringe at the sound of his nasally voice. I was fortunate that he rarely spoke.

Keeping my head bowed, I allowed my gaze to move across the table to Saffron’s husband. He was a plump man, even bigger than average, with a gut that strained against his shirt, threatening to pop the little white buttons that kept it closed. Like his wife, Bastian’s skin appeared waxy in the light of the kitchen, but that was common for Sovereign since they spent very little time outside.

Bastian dabbed his napkin at his mouth before saying, “We don’t need a good-for-nothing running around the house.”

“No, Master,” I said, once again focusing my eyes on the floor. The rug under me was worn but still bright, and soft under my tired feet. “Ten. The perfect age for training.”

“Indra knows our ways. She will pick a good one,” Saffron said, dismissing her husband with a slight wave of her hand. “Her family has served us faithfully for centuries.” A pause. “How is Dichen?”

I curled my fingers and dug my nails into the fleshy part of my hand. “My mother is very good, Mistress. I will tell her that you asked after her.”

“Good, good. It was a shame to lose her, but you have proven to be just as manageable as she was. It’s not always the case, you know.” Saffron was no longer talking to me. She had turned to the guest at her right hand, the mistress of the neighboring house, but I remained where I was. “Eslanda, you’ve had such a difficult time with your help, have you not?”

“The most difficult time.” Eslanda paused with a fork full of mashed potatoes halfway to her mouth and the electric lights glistened off the butter. “That’s why I’m supporting Stateswoman Paizlee’s bill.”

Saffron frowned at her guest as she waved her fingers at me, motioning that I was dismissed. “You can’t be serious.”

I backed away as Eslanda raised a plump hand to stop Saffron from saying anything else. The head of the neighboring house was robust, twice as big as Saffron, and the rolled skin at her neck was a bitter reminder of how much those living in the city had compared to my own people.

“I know you’ve had good fortune with the Outliers in your service,” Eslanda said, “but not all of us have been so lucky. One of them stole from the House of Kora only last week.” She popped the mound of potatoes into her mouth in a triumphant gesture.

“What’s this?” Bastian asked, his nasally voice booming through the room, earning him a glare from his wife. “We haven’t had a gathering in years.”

“Well, I may be exaggerating.” A white speck flew from Eslanda’s mouth and landed on the lace tablecloth, lost in the intricate white design just as I turned my back to the table. “But there was an incident at the house. I’m not certain exactly what happened, but whatever it was, it was enough for Kora to change her views on the bill. We need more regulations when it comes to the Outliers. We can’t just let them in and out of the city like they’re one of us. They aren’t. They’re different.”

The last word seemed to hit me in the back, and for the first time today the wobble in my legs had nothing to do with the food piled to excess on the table. My steps faltered as I passed the line of Fortis guards, and the one closest to me reached out when I stumbled. He caught himself before his fingers could make contact with my arm though, and his hand dropped to his side as his fingers curled into a fist.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a voice just loud enough that I was able to discern it above the conversation going on behind me.

Shock forced my gaze up, but the man was so tall that I found it difficult to keep my head down while lifting my eyes to meet his. I had seen him before, every day since first coming to work in the house, but until now he had never addressed me directly. He was older than me, but not by much. Currently he stood in the shadowy recesses of the room, making his bronzed skin look darker than usual. The light hanging above the dining room table at my back cast a shadow across his face, accentuating his strong features and making his brown eyes look almost black. His hair was cut close to his scalp, so short that he almost appeared bald, and unlike many of his Fortis companions, his face was free of hair.

The man’s gaze met mine, but only for a beat before I once again lowered my eyes to the floor. The House of Saffron was one of the most affluent homes in Sovereign City and employed more guards than the average house inside the walls. Still, during my three years of employment, not once had I ever spoken to the dozen or so men and women who guarded the family. The Fortis may not have been Sovereign, but they were still better than me. I was an Outlier. I was nothing.

I nodded once in response to the man’s question, not daring to utter a sound, and then hurried to my place among the other Outliers.

Isa stood at my side, and the uniform she wore looked on the verge of swallowing the bony fourteen-year-old girl’s body. She had been in the house for only two weeks now, having replaced her sister, Emori, who was too swollen with child to continue working. Unlike most of the Outliers who came to work in the city, Isa had lost weight since she started. I knew why: she had been sneaking her rations to her pregnant sister, but I also knew it would have to stop. Once a week was acceptable, but if Isa took food outside the city too often, even if it had been given to her, someone would take notice and accuse her of stealing, an offense that Outliers rarely risked. The penalty for theft was much too harsh.

Isa tugged at the sleeve of her dress, a sign that she was not yet used to wearing the strange clothes of the Sovereign. It was a sensation I remembered all too well. The fabric of the uniform was too stiff, too unnatural feeling after a lifetime of wearing fur and animal hides. Although it was not the fabric alone that made Outliers feel like intruders in this world. The clothes the Sovereign wore were too colorful, unnaturally bright and garish compared to the drabness of Sovereign City, as well as too long and with too much excess fabric in general. The women wore dresses with sleeves that covered the entire length of their arms, even when it was not cold outside, and skirts that flowed around their legs when they walked. The men, too, seemed to dress more for looks than for comfort, with long pants and clunky shoes, and jackets that were unnecessary for keeping warm. Despite how hard my mother had tried to prepare me for my position in the city, it had still taken me some time to adjust to the new world I had suddenly found myself immersed in, just as I knew it would be for Isa.

I had been much older than her when I arrived at Saffron’s house though, and the passage markings on the young girl’s temples that indicated she was now the main provider for her household seemed to contrast with the childish roundness of her face and the flatness of her chest. Fourteen was much too young. Even when I had received the passage markings on my own temples at the age of twenty-one, I had felt the weight of the lines. It had not been the pain of the half circles and dots being carved into my skin, but the knowledge that it was up to me to make sure my mother and sister did not starve. I could only imagine how difficult it was for Isa.

“Did you eat the stew you were given this morning?” I whispered to Isa. I had to look up because even at fourteen she was taller than me, which was not unusual. Almost everyone towered over me.

On my other side, Mira shot me a warning look, but I ignored her and focused on the teen.

Isa shook her head.

“You must,” I whispered, my gaze darting to the table quickly before going back to the girl. “You have taken Emori enough food.”

“She needs it.” The teen stuck her chin out defiantly and kept her eyes straight ahead, avoiding my gaze.

“She also needs a sister who has both hands.”

Isa’s dark eyes shot down, capturing mine. They were big eyes, round and brimming with innocence. The eyes of a child who had been protected too well by her mother and older sister. Emori and Cera had thought they were helping Isa by taking on the burden of life for her, but now that the girl had been forced into service, her naïveté was a hindrance. She needed to be better acquainted with the ways of the city or her time in the House of Saffron would be short, and then Cera, Emori, and the baby that would soon join them, would struggle to survive.

“You promise me you will eat the stew?” I hissed again.

Mira’s fingers wrapped around my wrist and I tore my gaze from the young girl at my side so I could focus on the table. Saffron was watching me from across the room, her gray eyes like icy thorns. I would be punished later, I knew, but I also knew that I could not let Isa be found out. Her punishment would be much greater than mine.

“Promise,” I hissed, talking out of the corner of my mouth even as I watched Saffron. The mistress’s lips turned down, but I was rewarded for my efforts when Isa’s head bobbed twice.

I lowered my head and only a beat later Mira’s hand slipped from my wrist, but not before I felt the tremble in her arm.

* * *

Chapter Two

After dinner, the family and their guests retired to the drawing room while the servants went about the task of clearing the table. We did it wordlessly, knowing that Saffron was still nearby and would not tolerate conversation of any kind while company was in the house. Around the room, the Fortis guards stood watching over us, and the black fabric of their uniforms blended into the shadowy corners as if they would soon become one with the darkness.

The room was silent enough that I was able to discern the quiet hum of electricity from the light hanging above the table. A “chandelier” Saffron called it. It consisted of nearly a dozen light bulbs and hundreds of polished balls of glass dangling around them. I had never seen anything like it before coming to work here, and had been enthralled by the delicate balls for the first few weeks in the house. Then I had been tasked with cleaning the thing. Spending hours on a ladder polishing the little pieces of glass had cured me of the obsession. Now I only saw it as a nuisance.

When the dishes had been cleared, I stripped the lace tablecloth off and took it to the back of the house. The air in the laundry room was cozy and warm, and the drone of the dryer as it flipped the clothes nestled inside was soothing enough to make me wish I could curl up and take a nap the way the Sovereign often did after their midday meal. A silly wish, and one that would never come to fruition for someone like me.

Back in the kitchen, the other Outliers were washing pots and pans, and packing leftover food away. The atmosphere was less tense than it had been in the dining room because we were no longer within earshot of Saffron. The kitchen was the one place in the house where we were able to talk a little more freely, and even though it had its limitations, I was always thankful for the break.

Isa alone was not working, but instead sat at the table in the corner of the room eating her stew, much to my relief. The girl had appeared thin in the dim light of the dining room, but in the brightness of the kitchen it looked as if her collarbones were trying to push their way through her dark skin. She had been giving her sister too much, something I would need to address. Pregnant or not, Emori had to know that Isa needed the food just as much as she did.

“I started the wash,” I told the head housemaid, Siri, when I stopped in front of her.

“Good.” The older woman made a face when she hefted a pot up off the counter and passed it to me.

Nearing her fiftieth year, she was the oldest Outlier working in the house. She had taken the position when my mother retired three years earlier, and I knew that Siri was not far from retirement herself. The work was taking a toll on her and I could see it in the lines of her face, interwoven with her many passage markings, and the gray streaked through her dark hair. She had put in good time, but I knew that before long she would be forced to pass the position to her own daughter.

I carried the pot over to the sink where Mira was already busy washing one and set it on the counter. “I have another one for you.”

She looked my way for only a second before her gaze moved to Isa. “You need to let her make her own mistakes.”

I exhaled and took the clean pot to dry while Mira dipped the dirty one into the soapy water.

“How can I do that? If I see her making a mistake, I will do what I can to correct her. To save her from some of the pain of life.”

“At your own peril?” Mira kept her eyes on the pot when she said it.

I shrugged, but said nothing in response.

We washed and dried in silence for a moment, Mira focusing on getting every spot off the pot and me staring at the water as I dried. The steam rising off of it never failed to amaze me.

“Indra.”

My back stiffened at the sound of Saffron’s voice, and next to me Mira froze, allowing the pot to slip from her hands and sink into the soapy water. I refused to look my friend’s way when I set the pot in my own hands down, or when I turned to face the mistress.

Saffron was standing just inside the door to the kitchen, the frown on her face pulling her waxy skin tight until it appeared as if the tendons in her neck would break through.

“Mistress.” I curtsied, ducking my head down in the process.

“My office. Now.”

Saffron spun on her heel and her skirts swished around her as she headed back through the door. I followed obediently, feeling Mira and Isa’s gazes on my back as I went. The punishment would not be fun, but it would be worth it knowing that Isa had listened to me.

Saffron had already taken her place behind the ancient mahogany desk by the time I reached her office. I only knew the thing was mahogany because she emphasized it so often. As if any of us knew what mahogany even was, or the difference between how it and oak needed to be cleaned. Not that we dared show our ignorance to the mistress of the house. In situations like these, it was best to keep your mouth shut and nod.

The desk shone under the electric lights, just like the wood floors beneath my feet did. The house was hundreds of years old but wore its age with dignity, as did the furniture and pictures and other random décor, all things that I had never seen before coming to work here. Mirrors imprisoned by intricate frames, pictures that displayed bodies of water that seemed to go on forever, and lights that turned on with the flick of a switch. Everything inside the city was foreign to an Outlier like myself, from the electricity that ran through the city to the clothes the Sovereign wore.

“You were talking during dinner,” Saffron said before I had even had a chance to shut the door.

I turned to face her, my head down and my hands clasped in front of me: a perfect picture of submission. “Yes, Mistress.”

“I haven’t had to chastise you since the first few weeks of your service. That was, what, three years ago?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I repeated.

“I expect more from you, Indra. Your mother was head housemaid, and I expected that you would take the position when Siri retires. Have I not treated you well? Have I not put all of my trust in you by allowing you to pick a Hand for Lysander?”

I dug my nails into my palms as I often did when faced with a ridiculous question. As if anyone in the city had ever attempted to treat the Outliers fairly.

“You have done well by me, Mistress,” I lied, the words coming out smoothly despite how difficult I found it to push them past my lips.

“Then what, may I ask, was so important that you felt the need to talk during my dinner?”

“Isa,” I explained, my eyes still on the ground, “the new girl who took Emori’s place.”

I ventured a look up at the mention of the maid who had left, curious if Saffron had any clue that the baby growing in her stomach was of her blood. Her grandchild. Wondering if the woman in front of me knew or cared what her son was really like. There was no acknowledgement on the Mistress’s face though, and the cold eyes fixed on me were as emotionless as ever.

“Isa needed some more direction and I felt that it could not wait,” I continued. “She is young and naïve, and I wanted to be sure she understood the rules so she would not get in trouble.” I shook my head slightly when the words came out, then corrected myself by saying, “So she would not break your trust.”

Saffron may have been a cold woman, but she was a woman of her word, something she prided herself in. We were all told the same thing upon arriving in her house: if we kept her trust, we would be treated fairly. She was true to that promise. As much as a Sovereign could be, anyway. It made her better to work for than many of the other people living inside these walls, a fact I knew well since I had been loaned out to other houses on multiple occasions to help with celebrations. Saffron had little concern for the people working in her house, but she did care about appearances.

“I know you feel protective of your people and that’s an honorable thing, but you must know that by talking during my dinner, you have betrayed my trust. You don’t speak unless spoken to, especially when we have company in the house.” Saffron let out a long sigh that could have come across as regret were it not for the lack of feeling in her eyes. “You know you’ll need to be punished.”

“I do, Mistress,” I replied.

“It will be as much of an example to Isa as the guidance you gave her earlier was.” Saffron’s chair scraped against the floor when she stood, and despite my best efforts, my body jerked in response. “Kneel.”

I did as I was told, keeping my head down as I sank to my knees in the middle of the office. The wood floor was hard and cold against my knees, even through the thick skirt of my uniform.

“Arms out in front of you,” Saffron said as she moved closer, her skirts swishing around her with every step.

I did as I was told, putting my arms out in front of me, palms up, but I kept my eyes down.

“Five.”

I closed my eyes even though I knew I would not be able to keep them that way.

“Eyes open, Indra. Head up.”

I lifted my chin and forced my lids open. Saffron was right in front of me now, so close that the folds of her skirt almost touched my fingertips. The tendrils of the small whip she used for punishment dangled between us, and the scent of leather tickled my nostrils. The smell was different than the hide we used in our village, and would forever be associated with this woman and this room, with pain and humiliation. The smallest whiff of it made my skin sting, just as it was now.

“Count,” Saffron commanded as she raised the whip.

It came down before I had a chance to respond, and the strips stung against my palms, forcing a gasp out of me.

I had to swallow before I could whisper, “One.”

The second lash brought tears to my eyes and welts to the palms of my ivory skin. The number “two” came out of my mouth automatically, and the third blow came only a beat later. I gasped out the next number, my voice shaking as much as my arms were. My palms were crisscrossed with red welts, the skin not broken but swollen where the leather had struck me. I cried out with the next strike, the number “four” being forced past my lips with the yelp, and then Saffron brought the whip down for the fifth and final time.

“Five!” It felt as if the glass in the windowpanes shook with the force of my scream, and my cheeks were streaked with tears. Underneath me, my legs wobbled, but somehow I managed to stay on my knees.

I kept my arms out in front of me, knowing that Saffron would want to inspect the welts lining my hands. She would do it under the pretense that she wanted to be certain no medical attention was needed, but I had long suspected that she secretly enjoyed seeing the pain she inflicted on others. Even though she did not beat her servants the way some of the other Sovereign did, I believed there was a part of her that craved the dishing out of pain. I even wondered if she used that whip on Bastian when they were alone in their room at night. It seemed like something she would do.

Saffron bent down so she could get a closer look at my palms. “No skin was broken. You should be fine to return to work.”

I kept my arms up when I nodded.

Saffron stared at my hands for a few beats longer, and I ventured a glance up. Her icy gaze was focused on my palms, but for once her eyes were not devoid of emotion. Excitement flickered in them.

I averted my gaze before she noticed me staring, but I knew the expression would stay with me until the day I died.

Saffron turned away and I was finally allowed to lower my arms. I rested them on my knees, palms up. They throbbed, pulsing like every welt had a heartbeat of its own. I wanted to curl my fingers into fists and beat them against the back of Saffron’s head, but I could do neither. My palms hurt too much to even consider making a fist, and if I struck a Sovereign I would be put to death. If something happened to me, Anja would have to take my place in Sovereign City and no one would be around to take care of our mother. She was too sick to spend her days alone anymore.

Saffron didn’t even glance my way when she said, “You may go.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” I said.

Getting to my feet without using my hands was difficult, but I managed. I had been in this position before, although it had been nearly three years since my last punishment. Saffron had been right about that, which to me was another sign of how much she savored these moments. Outliers kneeling on the floor of her office, bending to her will more than ever before. It was the only way to explain how she remembered exactly when my last punishment had been. With all the people in her employment and all the punishments she dished out—several a week—it seemed unlikely that she would remember who had been punished and when. Especially when so much time had passed.

Mira rushed to my side the second I set foot in the kitchen. “How many?” Her heart shaped face contorted into an ugly version of itself and her forehead wrinkled, pulling her passage markings together until they formed one continuous line above each eyebrow instead of four dashes.

“Five,” I said, allowing my friend to take my hands in hers.

Her palms, like mine, were decorated with callouses, and her knuckles and joints were dry and cracked from washing too many dishes. It was soothing though, having hands that were so familiar on mine. Mira and I had been through a lot together over the years, and she had come to work at Saffron’s house only a couple months after I did. Unlike me, however, Mira had earned more than her fair share of punishments. So many, in fact, that if I looked hard enough I could detect the faint lines of the last lashes still decorating the pale skin of her palms.

“Five?” My friend shook her head in disbelief.

“You know that is the minimum.”

“I thought she might be merciful with you,” Mira murmured. “You are her favorite.”

“Favorite?”

She kept her gaze on my palms. Our skin was the same shade, pale but freckled from years of being exposed to the harsh sun. Once summer returned, though, that would change. Mine would tan to a nice golden color while hers would refuse to comply. It had two shades, ivory and pink, and Mira always said she spent the entire summer fighting a battle with the sun, knowing that she would lose no matter what she did.

“You must know that Saffron likes you the best,” she said, finally pulling her gaze away from the welts. Her eyes met mine; they were as pale blue as the sky on a clear day, and as pretty as the rest of her was.

“Saffron does not like anyone.”

“You are too modest, Indra.” Mira released my hands. “We should put ice on these.”

“You know we cannot. The freezer is off limits to us.” My gaze moved to the small window above the sink. I could see a sliver of sky from where I stood, and it seemed to me that the gray clouds were thicker now than they had been this morning. “Maybe it will snow.”

“If we are lucky,” Mira replied, and when I looked back, her head was bent.

We both knew that snow would not be a lucky thing for anyone in the village but us.

“I will be fine,” I assured her. “But if Saffron catches us standing around instead of working, I will not and neither will you. We need to get back to work.”

Mira nodded her assent, and together we retreated to the sink where the dirty dishes sat waiting.

* * *

Want to read more? You can get Outliers on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited!

Also by Kate L. Mary

The Broken World Series

Broken World

Shattered World

Mad World

Lost World

New World

Forgotten World

Silent World

Broken Stories

The Twisted Series

Twisted World

Twisted Mind

Twisted Memories

Twisted Fate

The Oklahoma Wastelands Series

The Loudest Silence

The Brightest Darkness

Zombie Apocalypse Love Story Novellas

More than Survival

Fighting for a Future

Playing the Odds

The Key to Survival

The Things We Cannot Change

Surviving the Storm

The Blood Will Dry

Collision

Tribe of Daughters

The Book of David

The Outliers Saga

Outliers

Uprising

Retribution

When We Were Human

Alone: A Zombie Novel

The Moonchild Series

Moonchild

Liberation

The College of Charleston Series

The List

No Regrets

Moving On

Letting Go

Anthologies

Prep for Doom

Gone with the Dead

About the Author

Kate L. Mary is an award-winning author of New Adult and Young Adult fiction, ranging from Post-apocalyptic tales of the undead, to Speculative Fiction and Contemporary Romance. Her Young Adult book, When We Were Human, was a 2015 Moonbeam Children’s Book Awards Silver Medal winner for Young Adult Fantasy/Sci-Fi Fiction, and a 2016 Readers’ Favorite Gold Medal winner for Young Adult Science Fiction, and her dystopian novel, Outliers, was a Top 10 Finalist in the 2018 Author Academy Awards for Sci-Fi/Fantasy, and the First Place Winner in the 2018 Kindle Book Awards for Sci-Fi/Fantasy. Don’t miss out on the Broken World series, an Amazon bestseller and fan favorite.

For more information about Kate, check out her website: www.KateLMary.com

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