On the third day, after yet another agonizingly long night, fraught with unease and unwelcome dreams, I found myself walking aimlessly through camp, shivers rippling through me despite the mild day. The sun was hidden behind heavy clouds, as it had been for the last couple of days, as if it too were having trouble finding the strength to do what needed to be done.
Eventually, I reached the outskirts of the bathhouse, mindlessly joining the slow trickle of people headed inside, mumbling the requisite hellos while grabbing what I needed from the various bins. Headed for the showers, I stood mutely beneath the cold flow, uncaring when my skin goose pebbled and my teeth began to chatter.
Logan.
My hands fisted against the tile, my chin touching my chest, a silent scream building within me. With every fiber of my being, with every thought in my head, with every beat of my heart, I willed him to return to me.
As a sob slipped free and my head jerked up, I clasped my hand over my mouth and slammed the water off. Toweling off, I dressed quickly, and hastily braided my hair down one side.
Exiting the bathhouse, I headed to the dining hall, hoping that eating something might calm the ever-present roiling in my quickly shrinking stomach. Keeping my head down, I hurried through the cavernous hall, feeling exponentially worse by the distinct lack of people inside. I wasn’t the only one feeling the loss of those who’d yet to return—Silver Lake had come to a sort of standstill, a dark pall falling over camp that had nothing to do with the weather. People moved about like shadows, going through their daily rituals and routines, but lacking the color they once imbued.
Maria and Betsey stood huddled together behind the serving line, shoulders hunched, mouths drawn into tight lines as they scooped eggs from a pan. “Willow.” Maria forced a smile even as her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Haven’t seen you much lately—how are you?”
“Um, okay, I guess,” I stammered, shrugging weakly.
Handing me a plate of eggs, Maria clasped her hand around mine and squeezed. “He’ll be back,” she whispered hoarsely. “They’ll all be back.”
“Yes, they will,” Betsey said firmly. “Any day now.”
I stared at the plate of eggs in my hand, wondering what Logan might be eating out there. Wondering if he was eating at all. Wondering if he was even…
“I, um, I need to go.” The words had barely squeezed from my too-tight throat before I was halfway across the dining hall, shoving my plate of eggs at a passing person. Outside, I broke into a run, running as fast as I could in the direction of Doc’s, bursting inside the cabin, breathing hard. Doc glanced up from her book with a start, a medical tome that was nearly as thick as it was wide and raised a finger to her lips, pointing to where EJ was sprawled across several waiting room chairs, his mouth hanging open, a steady stream of drool dripping from his bottom lip all the way to the floor. And then to Joe—seated on the floor outside of Britta’s room, his eyes were closed, his head pressed back against the wall, his loud snores rattling both him and the gun balanced precariously in his lap.
“What’s with the gun?” I asked once I’d caught my breath.
Closing her book, Doc came to stand beside me, hands on her hips as she looked over Joe. “We had some concerned folks stop by last night worried about the possibility of Britta being infected and the infection spreading through camp. Of course, I alleviated their concerns but Joe wasn’t satisfied—he’s got it stuck in his thick skull that someone might try and do something to Britta.” Doc shook her head. “As if anyone here would ever hurt her.”
“How is she?” I asked. “Any change?”
“Nothing yet, honey,” Doc replied, rubbing my back. “You remember what I said—sometimes the mind needs to sort itself out before the body can follow.” Pausing, Doc glanced at a still sleeping EJ. “You know I had to pry the IV from him last night before he passed out from blood loss. I’ve never seen someone so eager to donate blood before.”
“I bet he’d donate his foot, too,” I muttered, “if Britta asked him for it.”
“He sure would,” Doc said, still shaking her head. “Lovesick fool.”
“I heard that,” EJ said, yawning. Sitting up, he wiped the drool from his mouth. “So, what’s the word, Willow—any news?”
“No,” I said tightly. “Nothing.”
EJ smiled weakly. “No news is good news, right?”
“Not sure that rule applies to the end of the world,” Joe muttered, his eyes still closed.
“Why the hell not?” EJ snapped.
One eye cracked open. “Think about it, you fucking moron.”
“I heard there’re eggs for breakfast today,” Doc quickly interjected. “If you want some, you’ll need to hurry.”
At the mention of eggs, both men sat up a little straighter, though neither seemed overly eager to leave.
“Oh, would you two stop this petty horseshit!” Doc sent the toe of her sneaker into Joe’s thigh before marching across the room and grabbing hold of EJ’s arm, yanking him from his chair. “Up and at ‘em boys,” she said tersely, dragging EJ toward the door. “It doesn’t do Britta any good to have the two of you fighting over who gets to guard her doorway.”
While Doc wrangled both men from the cabin, I leaned my head against Britta’s door, hearing muffled noises coming from within. Slowly turning the knob, I found Ella seated at Britta’s bedside, her forehead pressed to the bed railing, clinging to it with both hands.
“It’s your fault, you know,” she was whispering. “I never would have slept with him if it hadn’t been for you getting yourself hurt. So now you need to wake the fuck up and stop me from making even more bad decisions.”
Britta remained still and silent on the bed, her eyes closed, her skin shining with a light sheen of sweat.
“Jordy,” Ella groaned softly. “I can’t believe I had sex with… Jordy.”
Brows raised, I pushed the door the rest of the way open. “You had sex with Jordy?”
Ella’s head jerked up, her bloodshot eyes narrowing. “Don’t you judge me, Willow,” she snarled, sniffling. “Don’t you dare judge me with your harem of brothers.”
My eyes went wide. Marching up to Ella, I glared down at her. “You know you don’t always have to be such a hateful bitch, right? Especially now…” Despite my anger, my voice broke. Spinning around, I inhaled deeply, trying hard not to cry.
Clearing her throat, Ella shifted noisily. “So, I’m guessing Logan isn’t back yet?”
I gave a brisk shake of my head.
“Yeah, that sucks.” Ella’s harsh tone softened slightly. “How bad are you freaking out right now?”
“Really bad,” I admitted quietly, turning to face her. “Really fucking bad.”
“Yeah.” Ella looked away, an apologetic look flashing across her usually frigid expression. “Well, just so you know, you dodged a bullet with Jordy.” Making a face, Ella pushed out of her chair and crossed the room. Pausing at the doorway, she said, “He likes to cuddle.”
As the door closed behind her, I stared for a moment, shaking my head.
“So you’ve clearly had a more eventful morning than I did,” I said to Britta as I took the seat at her bedside. “Ella and Jordy, huh? Care to spill all the dirty details?”
“On second thought,” I continued, wrinkling my nose. “I don’t think I really want to know…”
“Not much news on my end—they’re still not back. Oh, but Betsey thinks they’ll be back any day now…” I trailed off with a scoff. “Only it’s been a week—a fucking week. What could have happened out there…” I trailed off again as an unwanted image arose—Logan and Lucas side by side, their blue eyes leeched of color, their skin shredded into ribbons of rot. Mauled by the very same horde, brothers in both life and death.
Gasping through my next breath, I squeezed my eyes shut, picturing Logan alive and well instead. In my vision, I reached for him, running my fingertips over the slant of his cheekbones, and across the harsh line of his mouth. I dip
ped my hands into his hair, unbound and wild with waves, before returning to explore more of his face. As I smoothed the pads of my thumbs over his heavy brows, he stared back at me, his ocean-blue eyes burning straight through. Up on my tiptoes, I was leaning forward to kiss him when Britta’s hand suddenly twitched in mine.
I bolted upright, my eyes flying open. It wasn’t the first time she’d twitched; however, it was the first time she’d twitched in a way that didn’t feel reflexive in nature, but very much deliberate.
“Britta,” I breathed, shaking her hand. “Can you hear me? Britta? Squeeze me if you can hear me.”
Britta’s dry lips parted, a wheezy groan rattling from her chest and I dropped her hand, my heart thudding in my chest. My gaze darted up and down her body, looking over her too-pale, sweat-slickened skin. Please be alive, I chanted silently. Please be alive.
“Britta,” I squeaked, terror squeezing my throat. “Britta?”
Her eyes opened—bright blue and fixed on me.
“Britta!” I cried, clasping my hands over my mouth. “Oh my god, Britta!”
There was a loud clatter beyond the door. Swinging open, the door crashed into the wall as Joe and EJ shoved against each other, plates of eggs tumbling to the ground as they raced to Britta’s bedside.
“Brit,” Joe gasped, his shotgun still in hand. “You awake, girl?”
“Britta.” EJ staggered to a stop beside Joe. “Are you… you?”
Another groan rattled as she attempted clearing her throat; her fingers wiggled in her binds, reaching for me. Clasping her hand between both of mine, I began to laugh even as tears poured down my cheeks.
Britta blinked sluggishly between the three of us, pausing on Joe. “What’s the… gun for… Joey?” she asked hoarsely and with immense effort. “You gonna shoot… little ol’… me?”
Joe’s slack-jawed expression morphed into a stunned smile. “Not you,” he rasped. “Just… everybody else.”
“You’re tellin’ me that Ella—the Ice Queen of the East, got her groove on with Jordy?”
Britta was propped up in bed, a marked improvement after only two days awake, while I finished brushing out the tangles in her hair. Her amputated limb was freshly bandaged and held up in a sling that EJ had fashioned from the ceiling, and her pain was being managed by both the meds dripping slowly through her IV, and the cup of hot tea at her bedside, made from willow bark and calamus root.
“That’s what she said.” Pulling the chair over near the bed, I sat down with a sigh. I was bone tired and yet unable to sleep more than a few minutes at a time, always waking with my heart hammering frantically against my ribs, hoping that this time would be the time I’d awake to find Logan had returned only to realize over and over again that I was still alone.
Britta chuckled. “That’s a match made in hell, if I ever heard one. You wanna put bets on who kills who?”
“No way,” I muttered. “We both know if anyone’s killing anyone—it’s going to be Ella killing Jordy. Apparently, he likes to cuddle.”
“Ya never know,” Britta mused. “Could be that cuddly kangaroo has a dark side we don’t know about. Wouldn’t put it past our little Hella-Ella to make a good man go bad. ”
When I didn’t respond, Britta’s hand appeared over the bed railing, her fingers wiggling. “Did I lose ya again, sugar—you awake over there?”
Straightening in my seat, I met Britta’s drugged gaze over the top of the railing and tried to smile.
“Nah—hell no. Mm-mm. Now, I may be higher than a giraffe’s ass right now, but I can still spot insincerity a mile away. Don’t be pullin’ happy faces for my benefit. You wanna cry, sugar, you go ahead and cry.”
My smile slipping, I gripped my hands in my lap, twisting them. “I don’t want to cry,” I bit out softly. “I’m sick of crying. I’m sick of feeling sick. I just… I just… need to know what happened.”
“I know that feeling—Lord knows I do.” Fumbling through the bedrail, Britta grasped my clasped hands. “Not knowin’ is the worst feelin’ in this whole… cursed world.” Britta’s voice broke and her hand disappeared from mine.
“Alright, that’s enough of that.” The soft slap of Doc’s voice across the floor broke up the palpable silence that settled over the room. “That’s enough of that. Now, I know things might seem bleak, but that doesn’t mean we have to dwell on them. Britta—you need your rest more than anything right now. Willow—honey, you need a happy distraction. How about you come with me for the day—I’ve got some foraging to do—I’m out of astragalus and sambucus and a whole host of other things. Britta—if you need anything, Joe’s right outside the door.”
“He got his gun on him?” Britta sniffled.
“Got it right here!” Joe called from the other room.
“Yeah? Which one you got today?” Quirking half a smile, Britta sent me a teary-eyed wink. “The big one?”
There was a pause before Joe appeared in the doorway, lips twisted into a devilish smile. Reaching overhead, he gripped the top of the doorframe, causing the muscles in his arms to noticeably swell. “You wanna see it?” he drawled.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Doc said, whisking me out of the chair and shooing me toward the door. “That is definitely enough of that. Joe, you and your gun better get back in your seat—Britta needs her rest!”
Willow
We’d left camp on foot, traveling east of Silver Lake, headed to a creek that split through the thickening forest, where uprooted trees folded over the winding water like clasping hands, and wildflowers and weeds grew in abundance. It had been an uneventful journey, without a single Creeper sighting and very little conversation.
“See this?” Doc rose from her knees, where she’d been hidden almost entirely among waist-high foliage. In her hand, she held out a small green and purple plant, its dangling undergrowth still covered in wet earth. “You’ll have to look for them—they like to hide. And be careful when you’re digging them up—it’s the roots I need.”
“Got it,” I said, as Doc ducked back into the grass.
Following along the water’s edge, I dug through the soft soil, pulling up the plants and placing them in the burlap sack slung over my shoulder. To try and keep my mind from wandering down a dark path fraught with foreboding, I made a concerted effort to work diligently, even humming along with rhythmic sounds of water rushing over rocks each time my anxiety began to rise.
Bugs buzzing in my ears, salamanders slithered out from under rocks and toads jumped quickly out of sight as I dug around, disrupting their hiding places. Before long, the forest had dimmed considerably. My bag was bursting with green and purple plants, each with their roots intact.
“Time to go.” Doc emerged from the tall grass, holding up the limp body of a white rabbit. “Found us a snack, too.”
It wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen before—in fact, I’d arguably seen far worse things than a dead rabbit. Even so, sorrow struck me fast and hard and I found myself sinking to the ground in tears.
“Willow?” Doc dropped beside me, pulling me into a hug. “Oh, Willow—talk to me, honey.”
“I can’t do this,” I sputtered over her shoulder, glaring at the peaceful sight of the creek beyond. “The only reason I survived losing my parents was because of Luke, and the only reason I survived losing Luke was because of Logan. I can’t survive losing Logan, too. I can’t do it… I can’t…” I trailed off, gasping, my tears falling faster. “I’ve got nothing left.”
“Alright, alright, slow down. Take a breath for me—that’s it. Now take another—there you go.” Pulling away, she placed her hands on my cheeks. “Now you listen to me—you might think the only reason you’re here right now is because of those boys but let me tell you what I think—I think you all survived as long as you did because you had each other.
“You were a family, Willow, and families hold one another up, each of us in different ways—no one way being more or less important than the other.
“An
d now you’ve got an even bigger family. You’re not alone in this pain. We are all here with you, each of us holding one another up. And whatever happens next, if they don’t come home again, I promise you, we will keep holding one another up.”
If they don’t come home again. My ragged breaths stopped short as sharp pain sliced through my chest. My hand flew to my heart, as if it might beat its last beat if I didn’t hold tightly to it.
“Hey, now,” Doc soothed. “I didn’t say I’m throwing in the towel just yet, did I? Leisel and Xavi and Logan—those are some of the strongest people I’ve ever encountered. Let’s give it a few more days before we really start to worry, alright? Come on—up we go. One foot in front of the other. There you go.”
Tucking me to her side, Doc steered me away from the creek. “Now let’s get ourselves home before nightfall.”
“They’re back!” a woman shouted down from the guard tower, pounding on its wooden ledge. “Open up, they’re back.”
“You see anything out there?” a second voice called down.
“Just dinner, I’m afraid,” Doc replied, holding up the rabbit by its ears. “I’ll share, if you cook.”
“Doc, you’ve got yourself a deal.”
As the gate slid open and Doc paused to speak with guards in the tower, I continued on, with plans to change clothes and then hurry back to Britta. I was halfway home when I saw EJ running down the path; doing a double take when he spotted me, making a hard swerve in my direction.
“Willow!” he shouted, waving his arms around. “Willow! It’s Leisel—she radioed! She’s on the radio!”
“Radioed?” I stammered. “Where?”
“Their cabin,” EJ said, beckoning me to follow him. “It’s in their cabin.”
The run from one side of camp to the other was little more than a blur. I burst into Joshua and Leisel’s cabin, tripping over the threshold into a scene inside that was nothing short of chaotic. The room was overly full of people, with too many voices talking at once—though I only had eyes for one. Seated behind the desk piled high with radio equipment, was Maria. With tears streaking down her cheeks, she clutched a radio mouthpiece between trembling hands.
The Blood that Binds (Thicker than Blood Book 3) Page 28