Thicker than Blood

by Madeline Sheehan

  I stumbled forward, dropping to my knees, already knowing that Leisel had no defense. No matter what happened, her voice wouldn’t be heard. Justice here wasn’t justice at all, and no one had the time for sob stories. Surviving was all that mattered anymore, the protection of our community from outside threats, and ensuring that everyone continued to do their part to keep the cogs turning, to keep humanity afloat.

  A sob began to build in my throat, making it hard to breathe. “No,” I whispered to the darkness. “Please, no.”

  I’d promised to protect her, to keep her safe. But I’d broken that promise, told her to forget about her previous husband, her previous life, even though I hadn’t—couldn’t. I still thought about it every day, my first husband and our lives before the infection. I’d been a hypocrite and a liar, and part of me felt that if I’d been honest with her from the start, instead of always shielding her from my own pain, that maybe things wouldn’t have ended like this.

  Choking back my bitter tears, I slowly got back to my feet and looked around my sham of a home.

  Three months after the infection had arrived in America, Leisel and I had both lost our husbands, our entire world. It took everything we had to carry on when all we wanted to do was curl up and die. I’d kept us strong, kept us fighting. I’d lied through my teeth, choking back my own sorrows in order to comfort and soothe hers, and now I was going to lose her anyway.

  It had all been for nothing.

  But then again, that was what I did. I stayed tough despite all odds, and even in the face of utter devastation, I’d always been the resilient one. I’d always refused to give up.

  And, by God, I refused to give up now.

  Chapter Three

  Leisel

  Seated on a lone bench in the corner of one of two concrete rooms inside the Fredericksville police station, both my hands and ankles bound in handcuffs, I stared blankly through the candlelit cell at the guard stationed to watch over me.

  Alex was younger than me by about five years, still in his early twenties, and I’d previously thought one of my late husband’s most trusted friends. He’d been the one who’d always quietly spirited me away to the infirmary when I’d been too injured to walk, who’d made excuses for my absences, who’d ensured that my husband’s sick secrets remained just that. Secrets.

  Worse, he’d been Lawrence’s personal escort, following wherever the man went, even standing watch outside our house at night. Because of this, it had been Alex who’d found me with my husband’s dead body.

  If anything, I’d expected to see anger or hatred in his features, or at the very least, shock and horror. Instead, he’d taken one look at my bloody, battered body, another at Lawrence’s mutilated form, then lifted his eyes to mine filled with what looked like pity. And something else, something shocking and unrelated that I couldn’t quite fathom.

  Not a word was spoken as he’d slowly pulled his handcuffs from his belt and gently placed them on my wrists. Even more surprising was that he’d waited until I’d been securely locked inside a cell before alerting the others to my crime. It had dawned on me then that he’d been protecting me from the town’s wrath, especially from those who had been a part of Lawrence’s close-knit group.

  I’d been here for an hour now, and yet hadn’t had a single visitor other than Alex and a few other guardsmen passing through. No one had so much as looked at me, let alone spoken to me, leading me to wonder how many people had actually known about the four long years of abuse I’d endured.

  Why hadn’t anyone ever said a word about it? No one except Evelyn, that is. And even Evelyn had been loath to speak her mind in front of anyone who mattered. Speaking your mind in this new world was a crime in and of itself, and if the words you spoke were against Lawrence Whitney, you usually ended up minus a tongue.

  I sighed, knowing I couldn’t fault them for falling in line with the cruelty here, not when the outside world was as terrifying as it was. These men had saved us from the infection, protected us, given us a semblance of our old lives, no matter how warped that semblance might be. Something was always better than nothing.

  Averting my eyes from Alex’s, I looked out the lone window and into the inky black night, thinking of what was to come. I would be executed soon, there was no getting around that, and yet, much to my own surprise, I wasn’t experiencing the crippling fear I’d thought I would when it came to facing my own death.

  My calmness probably came from the knowledge that the world I was leaving was a barren one, devoid of everything I’d once loved. With the exception of Evelyn, there was nothing here for me. And maybe some small part of me was still hoping that there was a heaven somewhere out there in the great unknown. That maybe the human race hadn’t been forsaken, and God would forgive me for my sins, allow me into heaven to be with my first husband again, to be the woman I once was without repercussions—simple, shy, and happy.

  Without consequence.

  Maybe someday I would see Evelyn again as well. Because if heaven was real, then she deserved to be there too.

  The sound of a door rubbing against the concrete floor jolted me out of my musings. I jerked, then lifted my head to find Alex already on his feet and nodding to whoever was entering. I stiffened, preparing for the worst, thinking that my time had already come and I would be sentenced to die tonight.

  A messy shock of dirty-blond hair came into view first that I instantly recognized as belonging to Jami, another Fredericksville guard and Evelyn’s latest distraction from her husband. Following behind him, her face stained with tears, her strawberry-blonde curls unusually messy and her hands wringing together, was Evelyn.

  My shocked gaze slid to Alex, who gave me a small, sad grimace in return. He was helping me? Yet again?

  I jumped off my stool, entirely forgetting that my ankles were cuffed, and ended up falling forward. I twisted my body just in time so as not to land flat on my face, allowing my right arm to bear the brunt of the impact. Sharp pain radiated up the limb, exploding in my neck, causing me to inadvertently cry out.

  While I lay there, breathing heavily, tears stinging my eyes, I could hear the jingling of keys, the sound of muffled cursing, and then she was there, kneeling on the floor beside me, her hands gentle as she turned my body.

  “Oh God,” Evelyn whimpered as she looked me over, her eyes widening at the sight of me. I couldn’t imagine what I must have looked like; I hadn’t looked in a mirror since the incident. But I knew from Alex’s initial expression, and now Evelyn’s, that I was a sight to behold.

  “Eve,” I said as I sobbed softly. “I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry.” Not for killing Lawrence but for leaving her here alone, because that was what she would be after I was gone—alone.

  “Shh.” She shushed me, smoothing her hand across my cheek and brushing errant strands of hair from my eyes.

  “No,” I whispered frantically, wishing I could hug her. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, and I—”

  “Lei,” she interrupted, softly yet firmly. “You have nothing to be sorry for. He got what was coming to him! He got—”

  “Eve!” The agitated mutter belonged to Alex. “Keep your voice down!”

  “You can’t be here,” I said, grabbing her wrist. Using her arm, I pulled myself upright to a sitting position.

  Evelyn wrapped both her arms around me, then bowed her head, pressing our foreheads together. As she held me, I let out a shuddering sigh of relief. I inhaled slowly, smelling the sweat on her skin, the faint smell of liquor and…Jami.

  I looked up, over Evelyn’s head at the guard she’d entered with. She wasn’t alone here. She had Jami, and if he had been willing to risk bringing Evelyn into the station just to visit me, his feelings must run deeper for her than he’d ever let on.

  “You need to leave,” I said, pulling away from her as I forced back more tears that threatened. “You can’t be seen here supporting me, not after what I did. They’ll kill you for that, Eve.”

  “I’m go
ing to talk to Mason,” she said, refusing to let me go, squeezing me tighter. “There has to be something he can do, someone he can talk to.”

  “Don’t get yourself in trouble for me!” I blurted out. Pushing away from her again, I attempted to scoot myself backward, a hard feat when handcuffed. “Why are you being so reckless?”

  Realizing what I’d said, using the same words her late husband had always lovingly teased her with, guilt instantly flooded me.

  Evelyn went still, her eyes filling with unshed tears. “You sound like Shawn,” she said quietly. A long, pregnant pause followed. “And you know what I always said to him.”

  I nodded, feeling awful for her. “You always said, ‘That’s why you love me.’”

  Evelyn gave me a sad smile. “And that’s why you love me too, Lei.”

  My chest aching, I lowered my eyes. How I longed for our lives before the infection. For our silly, simple, and small lives in our quiet town where Evelyn had once been Miss Popularity and a doting housewife, and I had been the quiet and reserved preschool teacher. She had always been the complementary sun to my moon. I missed it all—our husbands, our weekly barbeques, our plans to vacation in Europe someday, our jokes about growing old together.

  “I want to be with Thomas,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I’m not strong like you are.”

  Evelyn threw her hands up in the air, her expression twisted with both hurt and exasperation. “Why are you so willing to leave, Lei?” she demanded. “To leave me! That isn’t what Thomas would have wanted for you, to just give up!”

  “He wouldn’t have wanted any of this!” I shot back. “And he’s dead, Evelyn, he doesn’t want anything anymore!”

  In a singular lithe movement, Evelyn jumped to her feet. Her hands planted on her hips, she glared down at me.

  “I won’t let you die, Lei.” Her tone was forceful and stubborn, and so very Evelyn. “I won’t let you die.”

  Then she turned on her boot heel, arms wrapped around her middle, and stormed out of my cell. Jami shot me a sympathetic look before quickly following her out.

  When they were gone, Alex strode slowly into my cell. Bending at his knees, he offered me a hand. For a moment I simply stared up at him, taking in his features for what seemed like the first time, noting his closely shorn black hair and equally dark eyes. He looked tired yet alert, clean yet scruffy with several days’ growth covering his jaw.

  It was one of those moments where you realized that, although you’d lived side by side with someone, you’d never truly noticed him before. How odd to have known someone for so long only to realize you didn’t know him at all, not even a little. I continued studying him, feeling as if I were missing something, wondering at all his recent kindnesses, when he’d never before seemed anything other than indifferent.

  “I have a plan,” he said in a low tone, barely a whisper. His eyes darted in the direction Jami and Evelyn had just disappeared, and then back to me. “I’m going to get you out of here. Out of Fredericksville.”

  Bewildered, I widened my eyes as my mouth fell open. “What?” I whispered.

  He wiggled his fingers, beckoning me again to take his hand. Somewhat in shock, I took it, allowing him to pull me up and gently help me back to my bench.

  Not another word was spoken as he turned away from me and crossed the cell, once again locking me inside. He did a full sweep of the hallway before turning around to face me. Through the bars, he stared deeply into my eyes, revealing so much emotion, more than I’d ever thought him capable of. But then again, I’d never really thought much of him before.

  “Because, Leisel. I want out too.”

  Chapter Four

  Evelyn

  “Mason, please,” I begged, clinging to my husband’s leg as he attempted to walk away from me. “I’m begging you. Please, do something.” I continued sobbing, my tears creating a damp spot on his pants. “Don’t let her die.”

  “Evelyn, there’s nothing I can do for her.” He bent down, struggling to pry my fingers from his ankle, then huffed in frustration. “She killed Lawrence. He was my friend, you know. She couldn’t have killed anyone more important if she tried!” Throwing his hands up in exasperation, his double chin wobbling, he looked down at me with pity in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Eve. I know how much you cared for her.”

  I looked down at the floor. My eyes were burning fiery holes into the wooden floorboards and I had to wait several seconds, breathing through my anger before I could manage standing.

  “Cared?” I asked, seething. “I care for her, Mason. She’s not dead yet.” Turning my back on him, I stormed out of the room. Behind me, I heard him huff again in annoyance.

  Now standing by the kitchen sink, I leaned forward, gripping the counter top with both hands as I stared out into the dwindling daylight. One day had already come and nearly gone; tomorrow I would lose her, and I couldn’t lose her. I gripped the counter harder.

  She didn’t deserve any of this, and Lawrence had gotten exactly what he deserved. He’d been a bastard until the bitter end, and now he was going to take her down with him. My breath came in short, ragged pants, my anger and frustration threatening to swallow me whole.

  Slow, deliberate footsteps shook me free from my thoughts as Mason attempted to stealthily enter the room. Only there was nothing stealthy about my husband, his slippers dragging noisily across the floorboards, his heavy breathing a telltale giveaway of his approach. A moment later his hands fell heavily on my shoulders, and as usual, I had to fight the urge to shrug him away.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his hot breath on my neck.

  In front of me the setting sun was a burning golden sphere in the sky, casting a fiery heat across the front of the house. The other houses didn’t get as much sun as mine, and I had chosen it for that very reason. After our wedding, Mason had given me the option to choose whichever available home I wanted. I’d chosen this one for two reasons—it was close to Leisel, and the sun…my God, so much sun. It was always the last house to lose the daylight, and while the rest of my life consisted of so much darkness, I needed the sun, needed its warmth.

  Mason pressed his lips to my neck, leaving sloppy, clumsy kisses. He was such a selfish man, only ever thinking of himself and his needs. Both disgusted and annoyed, I felt a shudder slither up my spine and across my arms, yet I did nothing. There was nothing I could do. He owned me in a way a husband should never be able to own his wife.

  “Not tonight,” I managed to say, somehow managing to not sound as repulsed as I felt. “I can’t.”

  Slipping out from beneath his grip, I moved quickly to the other side of our small kitchen. When I chanced a glance in his direction, I found him red faced, embarrassed by my casual brush-off. No other woman in Fredericksville had ever gotten away with what I did. For the most part, I had Mason wrapped around my little finger. He knew it, and I knew it. Yet now, when I really needed the power, I had none.

  There was only one way to save Leisel, something I had already begun to arrange but had hoped I wouldn’t need to commit to. We needed to leave, to escape. We needed to go back out into the world we’d left behind—that everyone had left behind.

  The thought was both horrifying and welcoming, especially knowing we could die out there. The infected still lurked; I’d gathered this much from Jami and the other guards who were often sent on scavenging runs. Although they weren’t as quick as they used to be, the older infected and their rotting bodies were more shamblers now than when they’d first turned, they were still a blood-chilling sight to behold.

  The remaining infected weren’t my only concern. Everyone had heard the stories of people who had refused safety behind the walls, hell-bent on living in the open and among the infected. I had no idea what people like this were capable of, considering they’d survived both the infection and its endless rippling aftereffects.

  But knowing that if I didn’t at least try to get us out, that Leisel would die in here, it made the world beyond the wall seem
much less frightening and much more welcoming.

  “Will you help me, Mason?” I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, and placed my hands on his chest.

  He swallowed nervously, licking his fat, greedy lips. He was hugely overweight, the only man left alive with so many extra pounds on him. It was ridiculous, really. Sometimes when he was on top of me, I could hardly breathe, let alone fathom enjoying myself.

  “I told you I can’t, Eve.” His large hands roved across my back, pulling me closer to him. “You know I would if I could. I prefer your smiles to your frowns.” His hands moved lower, cupping my backside.

  “If you can’t help me save her…” Looking up at him through my lashes, the way he liked me to, I continued in a whisper, “Then help us escape.”

  I stared at him, my eyes pleading for him to have mercy on my best friend, and on me. I knew he cared for me; some might even have called it love. But I knew the truth—what he felt for me wasn’t love. I wasn’t even sure the man knew what love really was. To him, his marriage to me, his ownership of me, that was what love was. And although he’d allow me a lot of things, Mason’s warped idea of love wasn’t going to allow me this. He wasn’t going to let me go.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking, Eve.” He shook his head slowly, a look of sad resignation crossing his homely features, causing dread to pool in my gut.

  “I do,” I replied, unable to control the tremor in my voice. “I’m asking you to help me save my friend. My sister.” Running my hands up his chest, I wrapped them around his barely distinguishable neck and brought us face-to-face. “Mason,” I begged. “Please.”

  Gripping my hands tightly in his, he regarded me with pity. “You don’t know what the world is like out there.”

  “So I’ll learn,” I pleaded.

  “You’ll be dead in a day.”

  “So will she.” My voice finally broke, cracking on the last syllable. “Mason, tomorrow they’ll execute her, and I’ll die right along with her. Help get us out of here.” Attempting to school my features, I looked up into his eyes. “If you love me, let me go.”