Far Series (Book 1): Far From Home

by Mary, Kate L.

  Her brown skin was ashen and decaying, torn in places, and she must have had a weave, because pieces had ripped off and the few strands of curls remaining were knotted and ratty. She was two cars away from Lexi but headed that way, and my insides convulsed when I thought about the little girl spotting her mother and possibly running to her. Maybe a bite didn’t turn you—so far, that was how it seemed, anyway—but that little girl against a full-grown zombie wouldn’t result in just one bite. It would be a bloodbath.

  “Do you see her?” I whispered to Kiaya, afraid to raise my voice.

  She only nodded before raising her arm.

  Kiaya began waving again, trying to get the guys’ attention, and I joined her. It was futile, though. They were too focused on what was happening in the parking lot to look our way.

  The four men had reached the truck where Mike was hiding and were in the process of pulling him out. He fought them, struggling to stay under, and the scraping of his feet against the pavement was loud in the otherwise silent town.

  My heart jumped to my throat, making me feel like I was on the verge of choking.

  Once he’d managed to wrangle Mike free, Devon passed him to Miller, who threw the boy over his shoulder and took off for the motel.

  Of course, he’d be the first to return.

  By then, Bethie had gotten even closer to Lexi’s hiding place and was seconds from reaching a point where the little girl would be able to see her. Buck, Charlie, and Devon were a row away, still, but on the move, and I found myself holding my breath as I waited to see what would happen. Without thinking, I reached out and took Kiaya’s hand again. She didn’t resist.

  Footsteps pounded up the stairs behind me, and I knew Miller had made it to safety. I didn’t look back, though, not even when Kiaya released my hand and rushed to the stairs. She and Lisa began fawning over the kid, and Randall’s voice joined them, asking if he was okay. Miller was next to me a second later, huffing and sweaty and acting concerned as he looked out over the parking lot.

  “That’s her mom,” he said, nodding to Bethie.

  “I know,” I said.

  I didn’t look at him.

  Devon turned down the row of cars just as Bethie did from the other end, and only a second later, Lexi scrambled from her hiding place.

  “Mommy!”

  I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to stop from screaming when her little cry reached me. I wanted to shout, to yell to Devon to grab her, but it was no use. Not only would it draw more of the dead, it was pointless because he was right behind her, steps behind Lexi as she rushed toward her mom.

  The dead woman let out a growl and moved faster when she saw the little girl. Her arms were out, reaching, and her mouth open and ready. It was a grotesque sight, but the child didn’t seem to register that. All she could see was her mom, and like so many other things, it brought tears to my eyes. And not just because I was a consummate crier. My own mom was so far away and possibly dead, possibly even a zombie, and it felt like someone was tearing at my heart.

  About six feet of space separated Lexi and the zombie when Devon finally reached the girl. He grabbed her around the waist, scooping her into his arms as he spun around and rushed in the opposite direction. Buck and Charlie were waiting for him at the end of the row, waving for him to move faster.

  Devon reached the older men, and together they took off, heading back toward the stairs. The little girl screamed and fought, but Devon didn’t slow, didn’t ease his grip, didn’t lose focus as he ran. The other two men had more than thirty years on him, and while Buck was in decent shape, Charlie wasn’t. It wasn’t long before he was struggling, and soon there was four feet of space between him and Buck. And even more between him and Devon.

  As if realizing it, Devon slowed, but Buck waved him on.

  “Go!” he shouted. “Go!”

  He headed back to help his friend, and Devon only hesitated for a second before running faster. That was when I realized exactly how his extreme sports had helped prepare him for this world. He was fit and didn’t tire easily, and he knew how to push himself, which was what he was doing now.

  “They’re coming,” I said when he neared the bottom of the stairs. “Go!” I shoved Miller in that direction. “Help him!”

  The corporal didn’t look happy about it, but he obeyed, jogging to the staircase a lot slower than I would have liked. He threw himself over the dresser and scrambled down, and I watched from the top as he disappeared. I couldn’t see what was happening on the ground from where I was, and it made every inch of me tense in anticipation, but I also couldn’t make myself move away from the stairs.

  A minute passed before Miller reappeared, a still struggling Lexi slung his over his shoulder.

  “Stop squirming,” he grunted, holding her legs tighter as he ran.

  I waited a few seconds longer, but when Devon didn’t appear, rushed back to the railing.

  He’d gone back to help Buck and Charlie. The latter must have twisted an ankle or something, because he was limping and leaning on Buck. The two men were using knives to hack at the dead that had converged on them, but more were coming. So many more I couldn’t even register where they’d all come from.

  Devon joined them, taking Charlie’s other arm and draping it over his shoulder so he and Buck could work together. It made them vulnerable, less able to defend themselves, and I wanted to help, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t armed, but even worse was the knowledge that even if I had been, there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help them from up here because I’d never even shot a gun. I was more likely to hit Devon or Buck or Charlie than one of the dead.

  Miller was huffing when he stopped next to me, and I turned on him. “Do something!”

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked, sounding irritated.

  I waved to the gun at his hip. “You’re a soldier, you can shoot, so shoot!”

  His expression twisted in doubt, but it was gone in a second and he had the gun out. Below us, Devon and Buck were dragging Charlie back while hacking at the dead, but the progress was slow. Much too slow for comfort.

  Suddenly, a zombie stumbled from the shadows right behind them, and I reached out like it would help even though I knew I was useless, my mouth opened as I prepared to yell, but a bang broke through the air, drowning out my words. The zombie dropped.

  Devon glanced up, and I turned as well, expecting the shot to have come from Miller. It hadn’t, though. It had come from Lisa, who had a small handgun aimed at the dead.

  She prepared to shoot again, and I refocused my attention on the dead. Devon, Charlie, and Buck were so close to the stairs now. So close to safety. I clenched my fists, saying a silent prayer and begging God to let them be okay. A zombie lunged, and Buck slashed at it with his knife, the blade sinking into its skull. Another grabbed for them, but Devon managed to kick the thing away. Lisa fired, taking the zombies out with expert precision, and even Miller had joined in, but more staggered toward the men, and a chorus of moans rose around us.

  I was holding my breath, watching and praying and waiting, and when a zombie lurched from beneath the overhang right behind Devon, the air burst out of my lungs in a scream.

  He turned, alerted to danger by my shout, but it was at the exact moment Buck stabbed at another zombie. He stumbled one way and Devon the other, and Charlie went down.

  The zombie lunged.

  He grabbed Devon, and they fell to the ground, and without thinking about it, I took off, running toward the stairs.

  Kiaya called for me when I passed her, still kneeling in front of Lexi, but like before, I didn’t care. Lisa was on her way, too, a foot in front of me, and she practically threw herself over the dresser when she reached it. I scrambled over a little less gracefully but made it, and rushed down the stairs behind her.

  She was ahead of me, and before I even turned the corner, a shot rang out. A zombie’s head exploded as I limped up beside her, barely registering the throbbing in my back but also know
ing it was slowing me down. Devon was up, as was Buck, and they had Charlie and were dragging him toward us. Lisa fired again and again, taking out the dead that were hot on their trail, but no matter how many fell, more seemed to take their place.

  Where had they all come from?

  “Here,” I yelled when the men reached us, reaching out to help Charlie over the dresser.

  He tumbled over, falling to the stairs, but I didn’t turn to help him again, too focused on Devon.

  Buck was next, quickly followed by Devon, but there was no time to relax because something else had grabbed my attention. The dead. They were right behind him. Dozens of them. All of them lumbering toward the stairs where the pathetic excuse for a barricade would do nothing to keep them out.

  “Up!” Devon shouted as he and Buck worked together to lug Charlie to his feet.

  “Go. I’ll cover you,” Lisa said, her focus on the dead as she fired yet again.

  Devon gave me a shove with his free hand. “Move. Now.”

  I did as I was told, pulling myself up the stairs one painful step after another. He and Buck were behind me, supporting Charlie between them, and as I turned the corner, I caught sight of Lisa only a few steps behind. She was walking backward, still shooting, but one woman—no matter how badass—was no match for the dozens of zombies in front of her, and already the dead had started climbing.

  I forced myself to move faster, holding on to the railing to pull myself up as I climbed.

  “They’re coming!” I screamed as I ran.

  Kiaya’s face appeared above the dresser, her eyes like saucers. She waved for me to move, but I had reached my limit and couldn’t push myself any harder. Still, it took only a few seconds to reach her, and once I did, she was grabbing my arm and pulling, lugging me up and over the dresser.

  Miller was behind her, and he reached out to help me as I toppled onto the ground, but I shoved him away. “Help them, you asshole.”

  I pulled myself away from the stairs so I didn’t trip anyone up then dragged myself to my feet. My back throbbed like I’d been stabbed by a huge piece of ceramic all over again, but I ignored it, watching as Kiaya and Miller helped Charlie over, aided from behind by Buck, who quickly followed. Devon didn’t appear, but I hadn’t expected him to. He’d go back for Lisa because it was what he did.

  They appeared at the same time, both of them pulling themselves over the dresser so fast it was like they were competing in an Olympic event. They toppled to the ground but were up in seconds, and even when I reached for Devon, he didn’t seem to register I was there. He was too busy shouting orders.

  “We need more people firing! Anyone who can’t shoot, work together to get another dresser. Now! There are too many of them, and this thing won’t hold them off for long.”

  Kiaya rushed to the nearest room, which someone had already opened. I turned to head after her but was stopped short when Devon grabbed my arm.

  He pulled me away, shoving me to the other side of the stairs, and barely looked at me when he said, “Not you. You’re already bleeding, and I don’t want you to pull another stitch.”

  It hurt, but I obeyed because the expression of panic on his face made it impossible to argue.

  Gunshots rang through the air as people started shooting. Devon, Lisa, Buck, and Miller were four of them, and there were two others whose names I didn’t know. Even with the six of them firing into the advancing dead, I couldn’t imagine it would be enough. There were so many that it seemed never-ending.

  It was, though. It didn’t take long for the zombies to slow, and I realized their numbers were actually a disadvantage. The staircase wasn’t very wide, and as bodies dropped, they began to pile up, making it difficult for the creatures behind them to continue climbing. A few tried pulling themselves over the other dead, but they were uncoordinated and slow, and before they could get far, a bullet to the brain took them out.

  Soon, the firing stopped, and people began to collect themselves. A second dresser had been pulled out, and a few people worked together to lift it so it was on top of the first. Again, it was a temporary solution, but it was better than nothing and the only thing we could do at the moment.

  With that done, I let out a deep sigh and turned to look for Devon, desperate to make sure he was whole. That was when I spotted Buck. He was on the ground beside Charlie, Lisa kneeling next to him. When she shifted, the bite came into view. It was on Charlie’s neck, right below his ear, and the sight almost made my heart stop.

  17

  I took a step toward Charlie, my hand out like I wanted to help, but there was nothing I could do, and I couldn’t utter a word. There was blood everywhere. On his neck, saturating his shirt, dotted on his face and arm. So much blood. So much damage from teeth. From human teeth. How could it be? It seemed insane.

  It will be okay, I told myself.

  Hank had been bitten, and he was fine, which meant Charlie would be okay, too. He had to be. He’d risked his life to save those kids, and it seemed unfair that he’d die because of it. Having grown up in a world where life was fair, where if I worked hard enough I got what I wanted, where all I had to do was ask and it was mine for the taking, that was the only possible outcome I could wrap my brain around. I didn’t know Charlie, but based on what I’d seen, I had to assume he was a good man, which meant only good things should happen for him.

  My gaze focused on Kiaya, who was still kneeling in front of Lexi, trying to comfort the little girl. My certainty wavered. Kiaya was good. So good. Better than almost anyone I’d ever met. But her life hadn’t been sunshine and roses.

  “Are you okay?” Devon asked, popping up at my side and distracting me from thoughts of Kiaya.

  Worry shimmered in his blue eyes as he looked me over, and his hand was half out as if he’d started to grab me but stopped himself. In the chaos, the kiss we’d shared had slipped my mind, but now it came crashing back. My face flushed despite the tension still surrounding us, and I found it difficult to meet his gaze for some reason.

  “I’m okay,” I said. “What about you?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, the words coming out like a sigh of relief.

  My gaze snapped to where Lisa was cleaning Charlie’s wound. Buck sat beside the injured man, concern written in every line of his body.

  “What happened out there?” I asked.

  Devon followed my gaze. “We got to the stairs and were climbing over that damn dresser when a zombie popped up out of nowhere. Buck and I didn’t even see it until the thing had taken a bite out of Charlie. I couldn’t stop it from happening. I don’t even know where it came from.”

  The last two sentences were mumbled, his voice full of regret and self-doubt.

  “It’s not your fault,” I said, and reached out to put my hand on his arm without thinking.

  Devon’s gaze moved down, staring at my hand on his arm for a moment, then he shook his head. “I know. It’s that bastard Miller’s fault. He’s the one who rushed to tell everyone a bite wouldn’t hurt them. That was all Lexi would say when I grabbed her. ‘Mommy isn’t going to hurt me. The soldier said Mommy won’t hurt me.’ If he hadn’t told the others, she wouldn’t have run off.”

  I didn’t totally disagree with Devon on that point—Miller was taking all of this for granted—but he wasn’t the only one to blame. Randall had been left alone to fend for two young kids, but in so many ways he was a child himself. Why hadn’t any of the other survivors stepped in to help? Why in God’s name had they left the care of a five-year-old to a special needs man and her ten-year-old brother?

  Devon wasn’t looking at me. He was glaring at Miller, who was busy talking with two other men. They were at the end of the catwalk, looking down to the bottom of the stairs like they were trying to decide if they needed to take any action. I couldn’t see what they were looking at from here, but it didn’t matter. They were eventually going to have to do something to make this place more secure. One staircase was now completely covered in bodies—
the stench was already bad, and I couldn’t imagine what it would be like after a couple hot days—but the other wasn’t any better. There was still only one measly dresser at both the top and the bottom of the stairs. They needed a better barricade.

  Things began to settle down, and people filed back to their rooms. I hadn’t met most of the survivors, and while a few shot curious glances our way as they headed off, most avoided looking directly at us. As a whole, they seemed shell-shocked and out of it. Totally unprepared for what had happened and unwilling to do anything to change that. It was why, I realized, they were okay with Miller calling the shots and why his presence was a comfort. They wanted to believe they’d be safe if they stayed in the bubble they’d created at the motel. They wouldn’t, and hopefully this little incident helped them realize that. This was not a safe place to stay, especially with the shitty barricades they’d created.

  Kiaya came over to where Devon and I were standing. “I’m going to help Randall with the kids.”

  I wasn’t the least bit surprised.

  “How’s Lexi doing?” I asked her.

  “She’s shaken up, and she still doesn’t really understand why she couldn’t see her mom. Randall and Mike have tried to explain that her mom is dead, but Lexi can see her walking around.” Kiaya’s frown deepened. “She just can’t understand.”

  “I can only imagine,” I said, looking past Kiaya to where Randall was talking to his niece. The poor guy looked as stricken as the little girl. “Do you think they’ll be okay with Randall?”

  “I think,” Kiaya said, “that Mike has taken on most of the duties when it comes to his sister. Randall tries, but from what I understand, he lived with his mom, who did everything for him before she died, then he moved in with his sister. He was babied. Treated like a little kid instead of being taught to be independent. He’s never had to grow up and take on any real responsibilities. Being thrown into this…” She trailed off, shrugging.