Born (The Born Trilogy Book 1)

by Tara Brown

  As I walk through the door, Anna helps me to the other chair. I sit on the edge and try not to get blood everywhere. Leo looks worried. His eyes are concerned and full of expression. He nudges me as I scratch his face and kiss the top of his head.

  "I can't believe you thought I shot you. That's really what you think I would do, after you helped Jake?"

  I wobble slightly from blood loss. “No, but I was scared. I'm glad it wasn’t you.” Suddenly the chair is against the back of my head as the ceiling starts to spin. I know I’m sick, but everything goes black.

  Chapter Four

  "Seriously? You both have to be hurt? I'm going to get Leo to bite me so someone else gets a turn at laundry and cooking." It’s a girl’s voice that is filling my head.

  Pain shoots everywhere. The light in the cabin is too much. It feels as if I'm on a boat. The kind I went on when I was a kid. Everything feels thick, like I'm moving through mud. I blink, grimacing.

  "Oh, you're awake,” Anna remarks snidely.

  I bat my eyelashes at the tall fuzzy person in front of me and feel hands on my face.

  “You're still hot. Anna, what did the book say about fevers?” It’s Jake. I try to swat at him but my hands feel thick too.

  Anna sighs. “I never read that part. It takes me forever to read, okay?"

  I cough and sniffle. “I need fluids and salt. I need my body to get hydrated again. Did you manage to make the soup?"

  “She did but it tastes like hell.” Jake whispers and brushes his hands over my face again. “You look really uncomfortable. Want me to take you to your bed?"

  I sit up as best as I can, noticing how weak I am. “I'm okay here. Did my artery get shot?"

  Jake's face comes into view completely as my vision clears. He shakes his head. “We don’t think so, but you lost a lot of blood. We think it’s ‘cause you're anemic—the book mentioned it. Our mom was anemic. She didn’t clot easily and your clotting took forever."

  "I eat a lot of meat."

  "She always ate a lot of vegetables though. Something found in radishes, purple cabbage, and beets was what her doctor told her.” He shrugs.

  "Well, that would explain it.” I’m crabby. My leg hurts. I’m hungry, and I don’t know how to be angry with company. It feels like they’re too close and in my face. I grimace at the huge white bandage on my wound and grit my teeth. “Who did this? Did you get the bullet out?"

  Jake limps back to his bed on the couch. “Anna did it. She did exactly what you did for me. Only you weren’t awake for it.” I catch the bitterness dripping from his statement.

  I roll my eyes and let words fall out of my mouth. “Stop being a baby. I saved you. What about the man? Was he alone?"

  Anna laughs as she brings me a glass of water. “A baby—he is a baby. No one else has come but at the same time, we haven’t exactly been leaving the cabin. I went and got another turkey but that’s it."

  Leo is sleeping beside the love seat I am stretched along. I reach my fingers down and let the tips slide through his fur. “Someone will come looking for him. I think we should go to one of the other houses.” I can't believe I've said it. I've never helped anyone. The words feel unnatural for me.

  Jake laughs. “Of course you do. You have other houses. That makes sense."

  My throat is dry and burning so my words sound like croaks. “Supply houses where I've hidden the food and the supplies. They're all farmhouses with bunkers or shelters and cellars."

  Jake whistles softly. “You are an amazing girl, Emma. How long have you been alone?"

  Visions of my father creep in, but I'm too tired to fight them. My lips move on their own. “The whole time. When the panic hit the cities and everyone fled, my father died then. I was alone then, in the beginning."

  I don't tell them he was the first person I left. The first person I ignored. Just like I don’t tell them they’re the first ones I never ignored, even though I should have.

  I see the pity cross Jake's face. “You were nine?"

  I nod once.

  "How have you made it this far?"

  In my fevered state I say the things I’m thinking. “I don't help people. I haven’t helped anyone. He told me to run. Always run. Don’t look back, Emma—just run. Then hide."

  Anna sits on the couch beside her brother and beams at me. “Until us."

  I scowl at her and think terrible things about being shot and the fact the man no doubt followed them to my cabin. “Till you."

  Jake speaks like he’s reading my thoughts. “And look where it's gotten you. I think you're right. As soon as we get back on our feet, we should get moving."

  I need to look at the wound on my leg. I need to make sure she did it right.

  I lift the leg and ignore the pain, as I tear the tape, wincing, and slowly peel the layers away.

  Blood seeps through the closer I get to the wound. I’m nauseated, seeing my own blood filter through the cotton. The bandage is stark compared to my blood that has made an imprint of a flower appear. The top bandage is soaked in seconds. She hasn’t stitched me up properly.

  I want to get angry with her but I speak softly, “I need the water boiled, the needle and floss, the whiskey, and the antibiotic cream."

  She looks hurt. “Did I do it wrong?"

  "Yes.” I grit my teeth and speak through them, “But you tried."

  She passes everything to me on a plate. I want to chuckle at the fact I've been downed by a sniper, but I can't. I should have noticed him, instead of daydreaming about having an us. I am an idiot.

  When I glance up at Jake I can see he’s worried.

  "How's your leg?"

  He shrugs. “Fine. It itches but my fever is gone. It looked really red and angry when Anna changed the bandage earlier."

  I point to the bathroom. “Anna, can you also grab the tea tree oil in the cupboard. It's antiseptic and antibacterial."

  She returns with the small blue bottle. My father had left bottles of it in here when he was stockpiling his supply cupboards.

  She passes it to me. I dump it all over my wound. It doesn’t sting. It feels like nothing, but the smell burns my nose with minty freshness.

  Putting the lid back on, I toss it to where Jake is sitting in his underwear on the blankets. He undoes the bandage and smothers his leg in the oil.

  My whole body trembles when I pour the whiskey over my hands to wash them. I know how much this is going to hurt.

  I try to thread the needle with floss but I can't. I close my eyes and sigh. The cool nose of Leo presses against my ankle. When I open my eyes I thread the needle, the smallest one we have, and grit my teeth. I want to cry and just let it bleed. I don't want to do what I’m about to do so I force memories of the day my father took me to the San Francisco pier. The wind was warm and filled with exotic smells. My stomach rumbled as the breeze lifted my dark-blonde hair up into the air. People shouted and squealed in joy at every turn. I had never seen a two-story carousel before. I remember the magical feeling of climbing aboard my horse. It had a dark golden mane that matched my hair. I ran my fingers over the warm, hard mane and imagined it was real. My father took pictures and waved at me as the ride started up. He knew I loved carousel rides.

  I press the needle into my skin. I am somewhere else. I am the girl on the carousel. Her smile becomes forced as tears slip from her eyes and land on her pale-yellow blouse.

  When I wake up the sun is low, just rising or setting. It takes me a minute to realize it’s low and setting. I’m still tired but I have to get up. I have to stop sleeping the days away.

  Jake is reading a romance novel on the couch. He holds it up and grimaces. “This is trash. I mean, I read comics mostly before so I don’t have a lot to compare to—but this is trash.”

  “They’re my granny’s.” A smile creeps along my face. I pray it doesn’t reveal guilt.

  He grins back. “She does smile.”

  It makes me stare, not sure what to say.

  “Don’t
stop smiling. You think I’m funny. I know you do. Girls can’t resist my charms.” He doesn’t realize that puts a wall up around me. I go frigid and tight when I think about charming guys. He stops and puts a hand out. “Whatever that sentence just did—stop. I’m an idiot. I’m not even charming. I don’t charm. I’m clumsy and oafish when it comes to girls. In fact, you’re the first one I’ve talked to besides my sister in a long time.” It makes me smile again. His words just seem to pour out. Does he think as fast as he talks or talk faster than he thinks? “We went to the towns last fall and winter, trying desperately to find some word on towns being built again. We heard rumors of people starting work farms or something. They said they were in these mountain ranges but wouldn’t give us directions.”

  I scowl. “Farms for slaves or fair trade?”

  “Fair trade. Everyone works together to survive.”

  I shake my head. “I haven’t seen that. I haven’t heard it either.”

  He cocks an eyebrow in disbelief. “You go to the towns a lot?”

  My smile creeps back across my lips. “Not if I can help it.”

  “You ever seen the other farms?”

  The words bring a shiver up my spine. I shake my head.

  He sighs. “We did. We thought our brother might have been taken to one, so we walked until we found one. It was the worst thing I ever saw. Girls being dragged off a truck, slapped and hit with a rifle. One man pushed a girl into a pillar and it knocked her out. He left her there on the ground. I knew if our brother had been there, he was dead. He would have fought that to the bitter end. He never would have seen a woman get slapped like that.”

  It is the first time I have seen him be serious. He looks haunted and I don’t like it. I like it better when he’s being funny and relaxed and saying strange things too quickly.

  He smiles at me and winks. “I’d like to see one of them try to slap you.”

  A strange sound slips from my lips. It’s a laugh but it’s weird and awkward and unpracticed.

  His lips spread wider. “She laughs too. Man, I better quit while I’m ahead and get back to the book. The Brothers of County Claire can’t be worse than the last one I read.”

  Leo rolls on his side and lets me rub his belly fur. I shake my head at Jake reading my granny’s romance novels. It makes my cheeks hot again thinking about it. I remember the Brothers of County Claire quite well. The scenes still make me blush. I’d snatch the book from him, but that would let him know I know what he’s reading, and I don’t want that.

  He gives me a roguish look. “You want me to read to you?”

  I cough a laugh and shake my head. “I’m not a romance-book kind of girl.” I will never admit it.

  He winks. “Me either.” But he keeps reading. He makes faces as he reads along, and I can almost guess what part he’s at by the color of his cheeks. Watching him read it is as entertaining as reading the dirty book myself, until Anna comes in with a hare.

  She holds it up with a grin. “Stew?”

  Tearing my eyes from Jake, I nod. “I’ll cut the veggies for you. I have dried peas from last year, and the carrots and onions should be good enough from the garden.”

  She waves a bloody hand. “Pshh. I did that already. The stew pot is ready to go.” Her blue eyes darken as her brow furrows. “But I will say, Leo was acting awfully weird out there. I don’t think we should stay, even if we just leave for a bit.”

  My stomach bottoms out. “We’ll leave as soon as Jake can walk well.” I don’t want to leave, but I don’t want to be found either.

  Chapter Five

  Leo whines. He never whines much, but he senses it. I can't look back. The sickening feeling that is creeping around inside of me grows with every step I take. The cabin is a parent, a hug, and a haven. It's the only thing I have from before. Turning my back on it feels like cutting myself. Every step I take is a betrayal of my soul. It is the price of loving a thing. Just like the wound in my thigh is the price of helping others.

  "We'll come back, Emma."

  Did she really just say we’ll? Did she?

  I grimace over at Anna and want to scratch her eyes out and roast her flesh on a spit. My face expresses this. I know because she winces when she meets my eyes. But I like her and I hate that. The two weeks we spent in the cabin were nice. Nice. I don’t know the last time I did something I would call nice. Even when Jake and I were both hurt, it was like being part of something again. It was like having siblings or friends or being a family, and no matter how I argue or cut it, it was nice.

  Leo rubs against my side. His back comes up to my hip bones. I rest my fingers in his coat. I grip the fur, as if holding on to him will ground me, and I will get back a semblance of my safety.

  Fingers brush my arm and then squeeze. I'm pulled back into an embrace. I want to fight against it, but the warmth overwhelms me. I can’t fight my tears and Jake, so I let him hug me. I am not going to cry in front of him. It’s bad enough I have laughed in the past weeks.

  He speaks soothingly, “Emma, we will come back one day. We didn’t hide all that food for nothing. It, and the wood and the supplies, will be here when we come back."

  I push his body away from mine and crane my neck to look up into his bright-blue eyes. “Don't you see? We can never come back. This is always going to be a place that’s watched. They won't stop until we're all working the farms."

  He looks serious again. “We erased all of the signs of life. Give it time. Not that many places have a functioning well, Emma. We can't afford to just ignore it."

  I want to push him away, but a funny thing is happening to me when he says ‘we’ all the time. I don’t hate it.

  I shake my head and tear from his grip. “Look, we need to get going.” The path down the mountain isn't my favorite hike, but today I’m distracted. My leg is aching from the walking because I haven’t exercised it properly. I ignore the pain and force myself to walk quickly, listening to the forest song. It speaks of happiness and peace. Leo seems content. His sloppy wolf face is a great indicator of what's what in the forest.

  "Anna, remember the second house Dad hid us at?” Jake acts like we are taking a Sunday stroll as my granny always said.

  Anna ignores him. I wish I could.

  "I think it was near here. Remember it had the pool and we swam in it to get clean?"

  I glance at her, seeing her jaw is set.

  Jake looks oblivious and rambles on. “God, then we found that pantry full of food. Cherry pie filling on toast made on the barbecue was my favorite."

  I imagine the cherry pie filling for half a second but catch a glimpse of Leo in my peripheral. He's crouched with his hackles up. He stalks into the long grass. I imitate him and crouch low. Anna follows along, not from watching me but from seeing Leo. Her eyes haven’t left him. Smart girl.

  "What?” Jake asks, standing tall in the field.

  I groan. “Get down.” He ducks along with us, but he's too large to actually hide in the grass. I raise an eyebrow at Anna who rolls her eyes. “How are you both still alive?” I whisper.

  She speaks quietly. “Luck. Not even kidding."

  I glance back at a red-faced Jake and motion for him to crouch.

  He looks angry. “Nice to see you have an actual personality, Em."

  I don’t have a response. A noise fills the air around us.

  The high moan.

  My eyes close in fear and disappointment. One of us is going to die. Whoever can't run fast enough will die. We can’t outrun them today. Not with injuries and Jake being Jake.

  Leo looks back at me for a second. His eyes are filled with worry. I nod. He creeps forward along the grass. I lick my finger and put it in the wind. The breeze is behind us and carrying our smell down the hill. The infected have a way of making a hard life that much harder. They are the survivors that don't seem to die. We are screwed. They hunt like animals.

  Anna licks her lips. Worry and fear cross her face like clouds moving in the sky. Her heartb
eat is pounding in her neck. It increases when she looks down the hill. She looks around and points to the trees behind us.

  I shake my head. Climbing only puts you in a tree surrounded by the infected. I look for another option, and my brain flexes under the strain.

  "The river,” I whisper.

  Jake looks at me, unconvinced. “How far?"

  "A mile."

  "Emma, your leg and mine won't make it, outrunning the infected for a whole mile. Maybe if it wasn’t uphill."

  I know he is right. I know this to be a truth, but I don’t have anything else.

  I pull one of my guns from my sack and pass it to him. I glance into his blue eyes. “Don't shoot unless you have to. Don't shoot me or yourself either."

  Anna takes the rifle with the scope, which she has grown fond of, and takes the right flank. Leo stalks down the middle of the field and I take the left. We leave Jake on the hillside. His injuries are still worse than mine.

  The bullet never made its way very far into my leg. The new stitches, lavender, and tea tree oil have made it heal fast. I’m just lazy from three people sharing the work one person normally did.

  I look at Jake's dark head of hair poking out of the long grass and sigh. He is too big to try to hide. He will be the death of us all. I know I will leave them if I have to. I force myself into the agreement. No matter what happens, my father didn’t die so I could waste my life on strangers.

  The problem is though, that they don’t feel like strangers anymore.

  I focus my thoughts and scan the grassy thin forest.

  Bile rises when I see them. They're slumped over something. They look disgusting and diseased, even from the distance. One shoves the other and the high-pitched moan shrieks out across the emptiness. It takes up all of the space in the valley and field. Walls of fear are closing around me as a hand comes up and down on whatever they have on the ground. One of them is striking it. It must still be alive. If it is, it’s sick now, infected like them. If it’s lucky, it’ll just die like most. Only a small percentage carries on after the fever. They are the closest things to zombies the world has ever seen. Not real zombies. They are still human and very alive, but they live with the sickness in a way that would never be considered survival. Their skin is covered in sores, open and scabbed over. Their hair is falling out where the sores have taken over their scalps. They cry tears of blood like in the fantasy movies that were popular when I was nine. The first thing the virus destroys is the throat. The high moan is from the scarring in the throat and the brain damage the extreme fever causes.