When We Were Human

by Kate L. Mary

  The fire in my veins turns to ice, and I spin around so suddenly I almost fall. They’re not behind me. The blood rushing through my body pounds against my temples as my head snaps back and forth, trying to decide. What do I do? Help my friends or save myself?

  Another scream shatters the air, and it’s the only motivation I need. I can’t leave Rory.

  I head back the way I came, my heart pounding faster with each step and every inch of me screaming for retreat. But I force myself forward. I can’t abandon them. I won’t be that person.

  When I round a corner my feet bang against a body, and I have to stifle a scream. Is it Rory? That’s all I can think as I leap over the body, barely making it over without falling. Two feet away from me, Turk stabs the blade of his knife into an enforcer’s stomach. The man grunts and falls to the ground, taking Turk with him. They land next to the body that almost tripped me up, and a sigh of relief forces its way out of me. It isn’t Rory. It’s just another enforcer.

  Behind me, someone grunts, and I spin around as a third enforcer shoves my best friend’s face into the wall. He pushes her body against the dirty brick as he twists her arm behind her at an awkward angle. Her painful gasps hit me like a punch in the gut. I rush forward and grab the collar of the enforcer’s jacket, yanking him away from my friend. He tries to push me back, but I knee him in the balls and slam my forearm into his neck, pressing all of my weight onto his throat until he bangs against the wall. His face turns red and puffy as he tries to get air, and panic fills his eyes. He claws at my arm, but I just push harder. My knife is in my hand before I know it, my gaze holding his as I thrust the blade into his stomach.

  His arms drop to his sides, and warm blood covers my hand. When his eyes roll back I pull my knife from his stomach, and he slumps to the ground, his body slack as the life drips from him, covering the streets of Athens like so many other people before.

  My throat tightens, but I swallow against the pressure. Forget him. You had no choice. Focus on Rory.

  I turn away from the man and find Rory on the ground, with Turk kneeling at her side. A pinched expression twists his features as he examines her scratched and dirty cheek.

  “You okay?” I take a knee next to them, still trying to push the terrified expression in the enforcer’s eyes out of my mind.

  “Yeah,” Rory says between gasps. “I just want to get out of here.”

  That makes two of us.

  I help her up while Turk continues to fuss over her like a worried mother. The muscles in my face are so tight I’m having a difficult time talking. This could have been bad. We could have lost someone.

  I push the thought down before my emotions bubble to the surface.

  We’re okay. Rory’s okay. Turk’s okay. Nothing happened.

  Rory brushes the dirt off her pants before grabbing Turk’s hand. I follow, turning to face the alley just as three enforcers step out. Blocking our way. I grab Rory’s arm as I spin around, ready to run back the way we came, but three more men close in on us from behind.

  “Left!” Rory pulls her arm out of my grasp and takes off toward a side alley.

  Every muscle in my body tenses as Turk and I follow, and I’m right on Rory’s heels when two more enforcers rush out. My friend turns to run, but she only makes it one step before an enforcer has managed to grab a handful of her hair. He yanks, pulling her back toward the alley, and Rory lets out a scream that nearly shatters my heart into a million pieces.

  The sudden pain knocks the air out of me. “Rory!” Her name comes out sounding like a gasp.

  She twists and fights, but the enforcer doesn’t ease his grip on her. My heart thumps erratically as I whip out a throwing star and fling it at the man holding her. It hits him in the neck, and his face twists in agony. He grabs at the star, forgetting Rory. Letting her go. She runs toward us, but only takes two steps when four more enforcers come out of the alley. One grabs her arm and pulls her behind them.

  There are too many now.

  “Run!” Rory’s scream vibrates off the buildings around me.

  Panic builds in my chest until I have trouble breathing. This can’t be the end. Desperately, I search for a way to save her, but it only takes one second to realize that we’re surrounded, outnumbered, and seriously outgunned. I’m paralyzed when anguish rips through me, building in my chest and filling my heart until it swells against my ribcage.

  When Rory screams for us to run a second time, the sound of her voice snaps me back to reality. My survival instincts take over, forcing the pain down. I grab Turk’s arm and rush down the only street that isn’t blocked, pulling him with me. He fights, but I dig my nails into his arm and keep moving. We have to keep moving. We have to get to safety.

  “Let me go!” he yells, trying to pull his shirt from my fist.

  “Move, Turk! She’s gone!” A sharp pain hits me in the chest, but I keep running.

  Get out of here. Get Turk to safety. It’s what Rory wants you to do.

  “No, no!”

  Turk fights, but I don’t stop. I have the advantage. He’s emotional, and it makes him weak.

  Somehow, I find myself in front of an abandoned warehouse that I’ve hidden in before, almost like my feet have a mind of their own. On the first floor, nearly buried beneath some rubble, there’s a concealed storage area. The enforcers will never be able to find us here.

  I shove Turk through the door and push him forward. He’s stopped struggling, but he’s still crying. His sobs are like needles piercing my heart, and each sound makes my stomach twist painfully. If only he would stop. Give me a chance to pull myself together. If I fall apart, we’re screwed. It’s not like he’s going to get us out of this.

  Fallen beams mostly hide the opening, but there’s an area at the bottom just wide enough for us to squeeze through. I push Turk onto his hands and knees, and miraculously, he moves. I shuffle in behind him, feeling my way through the darkness. Turk’s quiet cries echo through the room, my head, and my heart, and I have the sudden urge to cover my ears so I can block them out. Only I need to be able to listen. Need to know if the enforcers have followed us.

  I work to block out his sobs, focusing on the sounds outside this tiny room. As far as I can tell, there’s nothing but silence. We should be okay. There’s no way the enforcers will be able to sneak up on us in here, and I seriously doubt they’ll be able to find our little hole.

  “We could have helped her,” Turk says between sniffs.

  I dig my nails into my palms to distract myself from the throbbing in my chest. “Shhh! You want to get caught?”

  Thankfully, he manages to rein his emotions in a little bit.

  I try my best not to let Turk’s quiet sobs get to me. It’s hard ignoring my own pain with him sniveling on the other side of the room, and the longer we sit here the bigger the pit in my stomach grows until the pain over losing Rory threatens to swallow me whole. How the hell will I go on without her?

  “We have to go get her.” Turk’s voice penetrates the darkness, and I jump.

  “We can’t. You know that. They’re taking her to the mines as we speak.” My stomach rises up, knotted and twisted, trying to choke me from the inside out. I swallow and force it back down, tucking it away with all the pain from the past. Deep inside.

  “Then we have to go into the mines.”

  “You want to break into a prison?” I snort to hide the sob clogging my own throat. “Are you insane? We can’t, so just forget it.”

  “You’re willing to just let her go? Just walk away and pretend she doesn’t exist?” Turk’s voice shakes harder than ever, only this time there’s anger and blame mingled together with the pain. All of it directed at me.

  His accusations sting, but I can’t tell him we’ll try when I know it’s not true. There’s nothing I can say right now to make him understand, and I get it. I love Rory. Thinking about her going back to the mines makes my insides feel like they’re being ripped apart. She’s family to me, something I haven’
t had since my parents died, and letting her go isn’t an easy decision to make. But it’s the right one.

  “I’m sorry, Turk,” I say, forcing my voice to soften. “This is how it has to be. Rory and I talked about it a long time ago, and we agreed that if one of us got caught we shouldn’t go for the other. Shouldn’t throw our lives or freedom away on a fool’s errand.”

  He doesn’t say anything, and his silence is louder than any accusation he could throw at me. It pierces the quiet and rings in my ears, making it difficult to think. But I have to push it away. I have to be strong.

  I focus on listening. Concentrating on the sounds of the world outside this room. There isn’t much. A noise here and there, the sound of an animal scurrying through the empty building. But eventually I’m greeted by the sound I’ve been waiting for. The distant hum of an airship’s engine as it flies across the sky. Taking the enforcers with it—and Rory, but I do my best not to think about that last part.

  Even after the sound has faded, I stay where I am. Each second that ticks by gives me the assurance I’ve been waiting for.

  “I think the coast is clear,” I whisper when I’m sure we’re safe. “Let’s go.”

  I don’t wait for Turk’s response before I crawl through the opening and head out into the building. It’s black as coal, and as quiet as the abandoned city of Athens usually is, but I’m still on edge. Behind me Turk climbs out and follows me through the empty building. He’s silent, but the despair radiating off him gets louder and more intense with each step we take.

  My knife is clutched in my hand when we head back out onto the street, but just like I thought, the streets are clear. Still, I’m careful to keep my steps quiet as we pick our way through the city. It takes less than ten minutes for the building we’ve been squatting in to come into view.

  The instant I step through the door, some of the tension in my body melts away. I’m never completely relaxed, but being back is a relief. Even if we are one person short.

  Turk drags himself up the crumbling stairs behind me, but I focus on the holes and rubble instead of him. I don’t need to. We’ve been living in this building long enough that I could probably navigate the littered halls and stairway with my eyes closed. But it helps keep my mind off Rory.

  When I reach the third floor, I stop in my tracks. Dex and Ryder, who are usually fast asleep by this time of night, are waiting for us. Dex paces the hall, his face crinkled with worry and his hands balled into fists at his sides. In complete contrast, Ryder is stretched out on the floor, casually leaning against the wall.

  Dex stops pacing when our eyes meet. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “We got held up,” I say, keeping my eyes off Turk.

  Ryder climbs to his feet and presses his lips together. His eyes go back and forth between Turk and me. “Where’s Rory?” His voice is strained. He already knows the answer.

  I swallow the knife rising in my throat. “She didn’t make it.”

  The silence hanging over us threatens to suffocate me. Turk stalks off, and I’m relieved to see him go. I ache for him, for all of us, but being around him drains my energy, and I need it to keep my own emotions in check.

  Dex’s eyes are moist when he puts his hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I look away.

  I thought men were supposed to be tough, but these guys are wearing their emotions like a jacket, and I’m having a difficult time blocking them out. I need to, though. Need to keep my armor of indifference on if I want to survive this life.

  “What happened?” Ryder asks.

  I focus on a hole in the wall so I don’t have to meet his gaze. The cold fingers of misery squeeze my chest. An all too familiar feeling.

  “I don’t want to talk about it right now,” I say, shaking Dex off. “I need to get some sleep.”

  Neither one of them says a word as I hurry down the hall, but just like with Turk, I feel their silent accusations follow me. I should have done more to save her.

  Learn More

  Alone: A Zombie Novel

  Chapter 1

  New Beginning

  Jules

  Before the world ended, I was a normal girl who lived a normal life, just like most people in this country. I went to school, trying as hard as I could to blend in while simultaneously dreaming about the day I would stand out. I had hopes and dreams that seemed reachable, and a future that hadn’t been written yet. The world was my oyster.

  At least that’s what I thought.

  Now when I look back on it all, the memories from before are hazy. Like a dream I can only remember bits and pieces of after waking up to reality. The faces of the people I knew have slowly started to fade away, and the blurrier they get, the grayer my future becomes. Lately, it’s felt like I’m living under a storm cloud, just waiting for it to open up and rain down on me. My only hope is that this move doesn’t cause the cloud that’s been hanging over me to finally open up, because I’m not sure I would survive the storm.

  The car that has been my prison for the last nine hours slows, jolting me from my thoughts, and I look up just as the father I barely knew two years ago stops in front of a gated community. Our new home.

  “Here. We. Are!” He punctuates each syllable like it’s the announcement of the century, and I have to fight to keep my eyes from rolling.

  This move may not have been up to him, but that doesn’t mean I have to be excited about it. The way I see it, moving to the middle of nowhere when we’ve been safe in D.C. for the last two years is not a reason to celebrate.

  When I don’t answer, my father’s eyes flit my way. He shoots me a half-smile that makes him look like he’s in pain, but I work hard to keep my face as expressionless as possible. His smile tightens, causing the skin at the corners of his eyes to crinkle. I’m not sure if he doesn’t buy my indifference or he’s annoyed by it. Either way, I’m not playing along. Even though I’m slightly curious to see our new home, I’m not happy about the change.

  My father lets out a sigh.

  I start to twist in my seat, but before I’ve a chance to venture a glance his way, something slams against the car at my side. A shriek rips its way out of me, and my entire body jerks. A second bang quickly follows, and my heart mimics the rhythm, pounding against the inside of my chest like it’s trying to break out of me and make its getaway.

  I face the window just as a zombie throws itself against my door for the third time, and this time I don’t try to hold in my scream.

  “Stay calm.” It’s amazing how level my father’s voice is.

  He reaches for the glove compartment just as the gate in front of us swings open, and two heavily armed men run out. Next to me, the zombie presses its decaying face against the window, smearing black goo all over the glass. It’s a woman—or it was, anyway—and her blue irises are barely visible in her milky eyes. She has her palms pressed firmly against the glass as she chomps her decaying teeth at me. When her eyes narrow, a shiver runs down my spine.

  Is she studying me?

  Her whole body jerks, and her eyes double in size. A split second later, the light goes out of them and she slides to the ground, leaving a streak of black blood on my window.

  “Looks like they’re on top of things,” Dad says as one of the guards waves us through the gate.

  My heads bobs when I find myself too shaken to respond. Even when my dad pulls inside and the gate is closed behind us, I can’t seem to calm my pounding heart.

  It’s been a long time since I was this close to one of the dead.

  Dad puts the car in park and rolls his window down as a guard approaches. The guy is decked out in riot gear, making it tough to tell exactly how old he is, but he can’t be much older than me. Eighteen, maybe nineteen. He’s big, though. Intimidating. The zombies in this area need to watch out.

  The guy is smiling when he lifts his face shield, but it’s so tense it looks more like a grimace. His blue eyes are as cold as ice. “Welcome t
o Coastal Manor. What can we do for you?”

  My father clears his throat and sits up straighter, squaring his shoulders as his lips pull together in a tight line. His typical authoritative look. It takes everything in me to stop my eyes from rolling. That look and I have become intimate friends over the last two years.

  “I’m Jonathon Carmichael. The new Judicial Officer.” His voice is even stiffer than his body.

  When the guard relaxes, the smile on his face finally reaches his eyes. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow! Sorry for being a little rude. We’ve had some trouble lately with undocumented people. We’re pretty much at full capacity, and they’re having a hard time getting the point.”

  They’ve turned people away from the town.

  The thought makes my stomach lurch uncomfortably. It seems harsh, but maybe that’s just the way the world is now. Harsh and unforgiving.

  At least in my experience.

  “You can head on over to city hall,” the guard says to my father. “Turn right at the first road and you can’t miss it.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder as he talks, and I try to look past him. The only things visible are trees. Lots of them.

  My father nods once but doesn’t thank the guy or really even acknowledge him before rolling his window up. He probably thinks talking to a lowly guard is beneath him. He just works the gate, after all. He isn’t an important government official like Jonathon Carmichael.

  I try to force the bitterness away—there’s enough sadness in the world without having to live with all this negativity inside me—but bitterness is as much my companion as my father is these days.

  “That is one of the many reasons they sent me here,” he says as he accelerates, sounding like he’s talking mostly to himself. “They need to get with the times. Despite being told numerous times that he needs to expand, the Regulator has resisted the idea. He’s turning people away instead of trying to figure out how to add houses. He doesn’t want to grow, and with our current situation that is totally unacceptable. If he doesn’t get it together, Atlanta may decide to replace him.”