Until the End of the World (Book 2): And After

by Sarah Lyons Fleming

  “Looks like you need a bandage,” Dan says, pointing at the blood that runs down my leg into the top of my boot.

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t think I’d get bitten on this side of the gate. I’ll help with cleanup, but I want to check on Bits first.” I’m still in shock that Bits bit me. It’s so unlike her, and I can’t help but feel upset that she bit me of all people.

  “We got it,” Ana says. “We have enough people without you and Peter.”

  It’s a lot of bodies. We need people to load and move them, plus guards to make a perimeter around the ones doing the work. There are some, like Sue, who can’t do patrol for other reasons but willingly help with disposal when needed.

  “Thanks,” I say, and turn to leave.

  Dan follows me. “Hold up. I’ll walk with you. The other trailer’s down there with the truck.”

  Meghan rushes out of the crowd and rests a hand on Dan’s bicep. She’s cute, with a sloped nose, dimples and two short, brown pigtails. “Dan! Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, sure, Meghan. Just gotta clean up now.”

  She blinks slowly, wide-eyed. It would be annoying if it was fake, but Meghan’s sweet, if a little too adorable and helpless. She could do patrol; she’s in her early twenties and all her parts are in working order, but the one time she tried to stab a Lexer, she missed. Through the fence.

  “That was so scary, but I knew if anyone could do it, you could. Cass, you were so brave, too!”

  Killing Lexers through a fence isn’t brave, but I thank her because she’s sincere. Sincerity or no, I can’t stop myself from clutching Dan’s arm after we’re out of view. “Danny, you were soooo brave! You’re my hero!”

  “Don’t. Please.”

  “But, why?” I ask in a perky voice. “I knew you’d save me!”

  He pushes me playfully. I’ve decided to forget the moment in the vegetable garden when I got weird. Maybe he didn’t realize; it’s not like he knew what I was thinking.

  “I think Meghan might be visiting The Love Den tonight,” I say.

  “No way,” he replies. “I told you, I’m taking a breather.”

  “Mm-hmm.” He elbows me in the side. We’ve arrived at my cabin, but I hesitate before going inside. “You sure you don’t need help?”

  “Nah, we’re good. Just take care of Bits.”

  “Okay.” I stumble up the cabin’s steps on the bootlace I didn’t take the time to double knot.

  “How was your trip?” Dan asks.

  “Yeah, like I’ve never heard that one before,” I say.

  He laughs as I head inside. Bits is asleep in my bed, curled in Peter’s arms, with Sparky in hers. He stares at the wall with a wrinkled brow, but it smoothes out when I enter.

  “How is she?” I ask.

  “She’s okay, but she feels terrible about biting you.” I raise the hem of my boxers to show him the bite, now rimmed with the beginnings of a bruise. “Yowch. As well she should. Did you see Doc?”

  “I’m sure it’s fine.” I sit and yank on my boot without success. “C’mon, you old boot. Work with me here.”

  “Why do you think inanimate objects can hear you?” Peter asks.

  It pops off, and I turn with a grin. “They can, see? Sometimes you just have to ask nicely.”

  I push Bits’s cot against the bed so I can lie down and caress her cheek. She exhales with a flutter of eyelashes. Barnaby has followed me, and he hits the floor with a thump and a long sigh.

  “Could there be another creature in here?” I ask.

  “You might be able to fit a cow in that corner.”

  I smile, but another look at Bits and it slips away. “She was doing so well. I thought doing the comic with Hank was helping.”

  His eyes are cautious when he whispers, “She misses Adrian, too. She loved him.”

  “I know.”

  I close my eyes. I’m so tired; what I wouldn’t give to sleep it all away like Bits can. Peter runs a finger over my eyebrows the way he does when Bits has a nightmare. I can see why she likes it; it sucks all the restless thoughts out. I couldn’t stay awake if I tried, so I let myself go.

  ***

  I open my eyes to find Bits staring at me from Peter’s arms. He breathes heavily and doesn’t wake when I take his hand from where it rests on my neck.

  “Hi,” I say. “How are you feeling?”

  Her lower lip trembles. “I’m sorry I bit you.”

  “It’s okay,” I say. “Well, actually, it’s not okay, but maybe try not to bite me again?”

  She sniffs and whips her head back and forth.

  “I thought you were a zombie fighter,” I say. “Did you forget and think you were a zombie, so you bit me?”

  “No,” she says with a giggle.

  I reach to touch her but pull my hand back. “Wait, are you going to bite me again?”

  “Cassie, I’m not gonna bite you!”

  “I know this is all so scary.” I take her hand in mine, and she nestles our clasped hands under her chin. “What can we do to make it better?”

  “I don’t like it when you leave. I want you to stay at the farm all the time.”

  I want to tell her I will because I want to make her happy, but I can’t do it. I guess I could, if I didn’t want to remain sane. “I know, honey. But that’s what keeps us all safe and fed. How about if I’m here when you go to sleep, at least when I’m not on patrol?”

  It may not be good enough, but she nods. When she’s not biting people, she’s a sweet, accommodating little person.

  Peter’s eyes open. “Good morning, baby girl.”

  Bits murmurs hello and buries her face in the pillow; she hates to disappoint Peter. He doesn’t pass judgment, which forces you to evaluate yourself. It can be really annoying. I try not to think about how let down he’d be if he knew what Ana and I do when we’re outside the gate. I’ve broken my promise to keep her reined in. It may not have been a real promise, but I still feel guilty.

  “You know,” I say to him, “I think it was that nickname you gave her—Bits. Because Bits bit me.”

  “So it’s my fault that Bits bit you?” Peter winks at me over her head and tightens his arms around her middle. “Hey Bits, you’re not going to bite me, are you?”

  Bits makes an exasperated noise and lifts her head. “No, Peter!”

  “Well, I’m going to tickle you, Freckles.”

  She’s in hysterics before he’s touched her. I think of the Peter of a year ago compared to this one, who looks at Bits with such tenderness even while he tortures her. He’s become one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. I know it was always in there, but I don’t know that he would have become the person he is now if it weren’t for all of this. And it strikes me that he’s quite possibly the only good thing to come out of the end of the world.

  CHAPTER 41

  I find John sitting at the desk in the radio room, where he does a morning shift. His hands are laced behind his head, and he stares at the map on the wall above our radio. It has pushpins just like Whitefield’s, and the south is turning green, slowly but surely.

  “What’d Zeke have to say?” I ask.

  “They can’t get Grand Canyon on the radio,” he says. “I wish we knew what was going on.”

  “Will Monte Vista go check it out for us?”

  His jaw bulges, and he bumps a fist on the desk. “Nope. They’re too scared. Part of me doesn’t blame them, but it’s foolhardy to stick their heads in the sand. You’d think they’d want to know if something’s coming.”

  “You’d think.” I would want to know. “How’s Nelly?”

  “He’s fine. He told Zeke to say hi. Zeke says they really needed the help. Everyone loves Nel, as you know.”

  No one more than me. I can’t wait to see him tomorrow, when we go to Whitefield. I’ve taken to bothering Peter and Dan now that I don’t have Nelly, but it’s just not the same.

  “Well, no matter what, we’ve got to finish that trench,” John continues. “We�
�re putting up extra posts, but we need this whole place surrounded as soon as we can.” He leans forward. “How are you, hon? I feel like I only ever see you at dinner.”

  That’s probably because I avoid people, between guard at night and trips to the lookout. “I’m okay.”

  What I should say is that it’s been six weeks, and I still feel like I’m sucker-punched in the gut multiple times a day. That Ana and I have taken to secretly hunting down parties of Lexers and the fact that I like it so much scares me. That I have to restrain myself from screaming at Bits when she clings to me during the night and wakes the moment I move. I don’t—but I’m sure she can feel my frustration, no matter how hard I try to hide it. I can’t breathe around all these people who want things from me. There’s no oxygen, not even in my own bed.

  “It takes time, but it’ll get better,” he says. “When Caroline passed, dying didn’t seem like such a bad idea. I didn’t see the sense in sticking around when she was gone.”

  I stare at the radio. I don’t want to die; I’m just not all that invested in living. It’s a fine distinction, but at least it’s there.

  “I found strength in God,” John says. He raises a hand. “Now, I know we have differing religious views.”

  Seeing as how he’s Christian and I’m agnostic, it’s a big difference. He smiles and continues. “But God didn’t do all the work. I had to find the strength from within. You can lie down on the road in front of a pod of Lexers, but if you don’t help yourself by getting up and getting out of there, they’re going to eat you, no matter how loud you pray. You have that strength, hon.”

  He clears his throat and tugs on the collar of his shirt with a thick finger. “I also thought I’d never love anyone again, but I was wrong. And the only reason I’m telling you this is because I want you to know that life does go on, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.”

  Maureen. I let out a whoop and plant a big kiss on his cheek.

  “That’s enough,” he says, but his eyes aren’t stern. “Do you hear what I’m saying?”

  “Yeah, I do.” I’m not lying in the road—more like standing in the road, cleaver at the ready. It’s the only kind of strength I can manage right now. I change the subject. “So, what can we do about Arizona?”

  “Not a darn thing, unless Colorado decides to man up.”

  Oliver, a guy in his forties with thinning hair, comes in to relieve John. “Anything interesting happen?”

  John gets him up to speed, and I take his arm as we leave the building. “Thanks, John.”

  “It’ll be all right, hon. Just hang in there.”

  John may have found love again, but I’ll never love someone like I did Adrian. I don’t see how it’s possible. I don’t want it, anyway; I have enough people left to lose.

  ***

  I stiffen when Penny sits beside me at dinner. We’ve barely spoken in weeks. We’re not in a fight, but I can hardly look at her, knowing what she thinks of me.

  “I’m feeling so much better,” she says, and takes a bite of salad. The greens are growing like crazy in the spring weather, and even the people who used to turn their noses up at salad have been eating it like chocolate.

  “That’s really great,” I say, and lapse back into silence.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just thinking about going to Whitefield tomorrow. Have to get ready. Oh, and Bits has had a lot of trouble sleeping since the fence thing, so you have to stay with her until she falls asleep. It can take a while.”

  I honestly didn’t mean it as a dig, but she flinches. “Listen, I’m sorry that Bits saw the Lexers at the fence. I should have kept them inside, it just happened so fast…”

  “I know. It’s fine. I’m just doing everything in my power to keep her from seeing it again.”

  Penny tugs on the end of her ponytail. She’s about to say something I don’t want to hear, so I push back my chair. “I’m going to go pack.”

  “Okay.”

  We’ve been best friends since we were ten, and I know when her feelings are hurt. Well, so are mine. “See you later.”

  I walk out of the restaurant feeling justified in my anger, but it doesn’t make me happy or less lonely. I may have lost Adrian, but I feel like I’m losing everyone else, too.

  CHAPTER 42

  I leap out of the truck into Nelly’s arms. “I’m stealing your boyfriend,” I say to Adam.

  “He’s all yours,” Adam says. “Just give him back when you’re done, in approximately the same condition. Except for his hair. Whatever you can do to fix that would be great.”

  I put my forehead against Nelly’s and whisper loud enough for Adam to hear, “I love him. He’s just perfect.”

  “Nel says I’m a lot like you,” Adam says.

  “Number one being that he’s a slob,” Nelly says. “I thought I got away from it, and here I am again.”

  Nelly lowers me to the ground with a long-suffering sigh, but his eyes are crinkly, and when he looks at Adam they soften even more. I feel the tiniest bit envious, but mainly, I’m happy for them. Nelly catches me smiling at the way he watches Adam and shoves me. I shove him back.

  “Well, I left the kids working silently,” Adam says, “and I have a feeling they are no longer silent, so I’m going to head back. I’ll leave you two to your third-grade antics, although maybe I need to stay here and supervise.”

  I shove Nelly again. He grabs me in a headlock and asks, “What do you mean?”

  Nelly releases me after Adam’s strolled away, shaking his head at our mature behavior. “So, I hear we really are going out partying,” I say.

  We’re heading to North Conway tomorrow. Whitefield’s greens are growing, too, but they could use more staples. And they need practice; it’s the first patrol for everyone but Nelly, Kyle and Zeke. Ana thinks she’s going to the outlet mall to get clothes, but she’s living in a dream world.

  “Yeah,” Nelly says. “I’d rather not, though.” He waits for me to agree, and when I don’t, he makes a sound deep in his throat. “You want to go, don’t you? Penny thinks—”

  “Don’t tell me. C’mon, we brought beer.”

  He drops the subject and rubs his paws together. Whitefield’s alcoholic beverages were burned along with the food.

  “Maybe we’ll get some more tomorrow,” I say.

  “Now you’re speaking my language.”

  ***

  “I know I asked yesterday,” John says. His eyes land on each of the Whitefield patrol volunteers. “But I want to make sure that if you don’t think you’re up for it, you stay here. It’s a crapshoot—we could run into nothing or find ourselves up the creek without a paddle, and we need to be sure we’ll have each others’ backs.”

  Christine pulls her hair into a ponytail and murmurs assent. She was in the Air Force years ago, which is where she met Brett. I watch her holster her gun with a trembling hand, but of course she’s nervous—she should be.

  Besides Zeke and Nelly, there are five men, Christine and Margaret. Margaret is in her forties and holds a gun in her ropy arms like she was born with it there. The guys I don’t know well except for Kyle and Tony, a former dockworker with dark hair and deep-set eyes.

  Jamie’s dark, curly hair is in a bun atop her head and her green eyes sparkle. “So, who’s going where?”

  “The Hannaford supermarket is near Shaw’s, and they’re both near Walmart,” Zeke says. He looks at the crudely drawn squares on the map. “So, half of us to Shaw’s and half to Hannaford’s. Last we knew, the Hannaford still had baking supplies and stuff in the back, and the Shaw’s was in decent shape.”

  John points a finger. “Cassie, Peter, Ana, Christine, Margaret, Kyle and Tony will come to Hannaford’s with me in the bus. The rest are with Zeke in the van.”

  We pile into the small school bus and pull out of Whitefield. Christine listlessly watches the state forest go past from our bench seat.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  The sunligh
t emphasizes every sleepless night and crying jag she’s had in the past weeks. I probably look the same, although out here I don’t feel like I do.

  “I’m fine,” she says, but her eyes are flat. “Did you know it’s been over a year since I left the gates? I had to get out of there.”

  “Maybe if you like this it could be one of your jobs. Maybe it’ll help.”

  I nod encouragingly and Christine returns her gaze out the window. “I had friends like you in Iraq, Cassie. People who could find the positive in everything. I tried, but I had the worst nightmares. Brett made them so much better, but now…”

  If she thinks I’m Little Miss Sunshine, then she must be bad. I touch her gloved hand and lie through my teeth. “It’ll get better. It has to get better, you know?”

  I try unsuccessfully to think of something else to say that isn’t a cliché. Her lips move while she fingers the gold cross around her neck. It’s not the praying—if I were a praying kind of gal I’m sure I’d be at it all the time—but something tells me she’s not up to this.

  The forest gives way to residences and then the town of North Conway. Rows of wooden houses-turned-tourist shops have shuttered or shattered windows.

  Ana calls out the store names as we go past. “Leather—Dansko, Ugg—tell me that’s not necessary! We need boots, don’t we? Toys. Oh, my niece needs toys!”

  John gives a firm shake of his head at every outburst, until Ana’s arms are crossed and she mutters every store’s wares to herself. I know she’s saving her nuclear argument for the outlets, but there’s no way it’s going to happen with John in charge. Peter watches from his seat behind her, mouth half lifted and hands behind his head. She’s amusing when you’re not the one being bombarded with whatever scheme she’s cooked up.

  I can’t blame her, though. There’s so much stuff here for the taking—useful stuff and stuff that would be nice to have, like overpriced handmade-by-an-artisan-out-of-sustainable-wood baby toys and boots that aren’t just functional. I remind myself that there are only three things worth dying for: other people, food and water.