“Isaac’s outside, and yes, he’s fine,” Brandt said, heading off the question that even Cade could see on the tip of the doctor’s tongue. “He’s helping Peter out with something. He’ll be coming back here as soon as he’s done.
“As for what’s going on out there, simply put, the infected are getting in.”
“What?” both Derek and Cade gasped, and Cade added, “How? Are the gates coming down?”
“No, no, the gates are still holding,” Brandt said quickly. “For now, anyway. No, they’re coming up over the gates. They’re just climbing over each other and coming over the top. They staged a diversion at the front gates, had me and Keith occupied there, and then they came over at the side over there.” He pointed in the general direction of the area across the street, where the wall lay behind a row of houses. “Isaac, Sadie, Jude, and I managed to kill off what got over the wall, and we’ve got Peter on the roof of the house across the street playing sniper for anything that comes over. I got a few other men on the roofs too, watching the different sides of the community.”
“So what are we going to do?” Cade asked, stepping past him to go into the living room. There was a towel on the back of the couch; she grabbed it and brought it to him so he could start cleaning up.
“We’ve got to get these people out of here as fast as we can,” Brandt said as he swiped halfheartedly at his face with the corner of the towel. “If they’re not going to come through the gates, then they’re going to come over them, and I think it’s going to be really soon. Where are the twins?”
Cade was almost thrown off by the sudden change of topic. “They went upstairs to clean up,” she said.
“And that’s exactly where you need to go, Brandt,” Derek spoke up, pointing at the stairs. “You need to get that blood off of you. Go decon.”
Cade didn’t hesitate to add, “I’ll go with you. We should start hashing out a plan.”
He nodded and rubbed at his face again as he started up the stairs with the slow, weary trudge of the perpetually exhausted. Cade followed, her step feeling only a little lighter than Brandt’s looked.
It was only when the door was firmly shut behind them and the lantern they kept on the sink was turned on that Cade spoke.
“Brandt, what are we going to do?” she asked, even as she internally swore at how weak her voice sounded. She set her rifle against the wall and slipped past Brandt, plugging the sink and grabbing a gallon jug of water. She’d started to pour it into the sink before she realized Brandt had yet to answer. She glanced over her shoulder as the water glugged into the sink. He stared at her with a somewhat vacant expression on his face. “Brandt?”
Brandt shook his head slightly and blinked as if he were coming out of a trance. He nudged his way to the sink and grabbed a washcloth from the shelf nearby, dunking it into the lukewarm water. “I have some ideas, but you’re probably not going to like one of them,” he said, taking a second to strip his t-shirt off and dropping it onto the floor. Cade raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue, but he didn’t say anything as he scooped the wet washcloth from the sink and started vigorously scrubbing his face and neck and arms, sloshing water down his stomach. Cade watched for a minute, then nudged his bicep.
Brandt sighed, dropped the cloth back into the sink with a splash, and turned to look at her, leaning against the sink with both hands braced against it. “I want you to leave Woodside,” he said.
Cade opened her mouth to protest, but he touched her arm, lightly, and she closed it again. The dark, serious look in his eyes unsettled her and made her more willing to hear him out. He dropped his arm back to the edge of the sink and looked away from her.
“Things are about to get ugly, really ugly. And I’m not saying that you’re incapable of defending yourself, because you are, but with you being pregnant…I’m just not sure I’m willing to risk you being put at such high risk. I think I’d prefer getting you out of here before things get so bad that we’re not given an option.”
Cade pressed her lips together, giving him the courtesy of at least appearing to think his request over before objecting. He was clearly concerned, and she couldn’t fault him for that: the situation was bad and was bound to get worse, and she was, naturally, at higher risk than most because of her larger belly. But she didn’t like the idea of leaving her husband behind while she bailed to hide out in a safer location like a coward. “Brandt, I…” She trailed off, unsure of what to say.
“I know it’s not what you want to do,” Brandt said, clearly reading what she was thinking. “In fact, I’m pretty willing to bet that you’re getting ready to object to the whole idea all together. And I really can’t stop you if you decide to stay, because even though I’m your husband, I’m not your lord and master, and you can do as you wish. I’m just putting forward my thoughts on the matter, so I can say that I’ve spoken them, and because I hope you’ll at least take them into consideration when making your own decision.”
Cade pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, sighing. She studied Brandt, who avoided looking right at her, trying to read his mind like he always seemed to be able to read hers. There was a stain of blood on the side of his neck that he’d missed while he’d been cleaning up. She stepped forward, scooping the cloth out of the sink and squeezing it out. She pressed it to the side of Brandt’s neck. “You missed a spot,” she explained, washing it off gently with slow circles. As she wiped the blood away, Brandt’s arms slid around her, pulling her closer, and she dropped the cloth onto the edge of the sink. “And you’re right,” she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder. “I’m not going to go. Not while you’re still here. If you would go with me, I would drop everything and go in a heartbeat.”
“But I can’t go yet,” Brandt said. He took her hands in his, pressing them together and holding them tightly. “I have a responsibility to the people here. They’re a priority, but you’re an even higher priority.” He pressed his nose into her hair and whispered, “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t,” Cade murmured back, feeling a lump in her throat. “I promise.”
His hands trailed slowly down, resting against the small of her back, and one hand shifted to rest against her side. Below the fabric of her shirt was a nasty-looking scar from when she’d been shot in Atlanta. It had been a close call for her—not because of the wound, which hadn’t been that bad, but because of the infection that had spread during her recuperation. She’d nearly died, and if it weren’t for Brandt, Remy, and their deceased friend Gray, she would most certainly have.
“We have some time,” he said, his voice partially muffled by her hair. She didn’t have to ask for elaboration; the low, husky tone of his voice was enough to allude to what he meant. “Not much, but enough.”
Cade tilted her head to look up at him and smiled. “I’ll go lock the door,” she murmured.
Chapter 20
Kimberly leaned over the dining table, her palms braced against the edge of it, as she studied the large map. A thin yellow legal pad rested nearby, a ballpoint pen on top of it. The first page of the pad was still blank. A lot like her mind, which was in a contradictory maelstrom of blankness and chaos. She was supposed to be making some plans on where to take the samples—it had been her idea to take them out, and it was her responsibility to figure out her own plans for the journey.
Her nerves were officially shot. Every time she thought about the impending trip, it felt like they would crawl right through her skin. She had no idea where to start. So far, she’d only drawn a dot over the rough location of Woodside, a bloody red color that stood out from the rest of the map.
“Son of a bitch, what do I do?” she mumbled, just loud enough that it carried across the table.
A soft tap on the doorframe drew her attention away from her map, and Kimberly turned to see Sadie O’Dell standing in the doorway, looking into the dining room cautiously. She looked different than she had earlier in the day when they’d dragged the two siblings over the w
all and into the community, and it took Kimberly a moment to realize why: she was seeing the teenager with hardly any weapons, and without her Kevlar, for the first time since they’d met. Sadie wore only a pistol on her hip, with a spare magazine of ammunition in its own holster alongside it. She was thinner than Kimberly had realized, her prior appearance supplemented by the body armor. Her dark hair was no longer pulled back in the severe French braid it’d been in earlier; now, it hung in loose waves to just past her shoulders, softening features that Kimberly had thought looked too harsh.
“Hi,” Sadie greeted, sounding a bit awkward. “I was just looking for something to do, and I couldn’t find anybody to ask because they’re all busy with stuff.”
Kimberly’s mood lightened as she looked the thin girl over. She beckoned her toward the table. Sadie had been out in the greater world more recently than she had and was more familiar with the surrounding areas; maybe she could get some assistance from Sadie, even if it was just the odd suggestion. Something had to get her brain out of its paralysis, and Sadie seemed to be just the ticket.
“Maybe you can help me with something,” Kimberly said.
Sadie stood beside her now, looking down at the map with thinly veiled curiosity. “What can I do?”
“I’m planning a trip,” Kimberly explained. “We’ve got sensitive materials here that I need to get out of the community before the infected get in. I have to get these materials in the hands they need to be in before all is lost. You’ve been out and about more than I have. I was hoping you could maybe give me some information on the surrounding area so I can figure out the best route to take.”
Sadie nodded and leaned close to the map, finding Hollywood, South Carolina, and touching a fingertip to it. “Which way were you thinking about heading?” she asked as she traced first one thin line that represented a highway and then another.
“North,” Kimberly answered. “Or at least northish. I was hoping to make it to D.C. or someplace similar where I might have a good chance of finding someone who will know what to do with the materials we’ve got.”
Sadie nodded and tapped her fingernails lightly against the map, leaning forward to study it more closely. A soft hum escaped her throat, and Kimberly watched her, curious about the girl she didn’t know much about.
“Got a pen?” Sadie asked, holding her hand out. Kimberly slapped one into her palm, and she hunched over the map, tracing a path along several county roads and highways. “I’m drawing you a route that will get you as far as North Charleston. I don’t know much about any of the rest of the area, but I do know that you should try to avoid the major highways and interstates. Last time I was near one, it was a royal mess.” She shrugged. “Well, except for Highway 17, since it’s been cleared, but I wouldn’t recommend taking it all the way into Charleston unless you want to run a higher risk of getting eaten by zombies. Charleston is full of them.”
“You say that like you know from experience,” Kimberly said, leaning against the table and watching as Sadie shaded in the route she’d suggested.
Sadie peered at her through a ragged fringe of dark hair. “You have no idea,” she said, a look of hard seriousness on her face. “There were a few times when Jude and I got too close to Charleston while hunting for supplies, and we almost didn’t make it back out.”
Kimberly nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I can imagine. I came out of Atlanta.”
“Ouch.”
“Exactly.” She paused, studying the map again for a moment, and then asked, as tactfully as she could, “So, Jude. Has he always been that way?”
“What way? Mute?”
“Yeah.”
Sadie shook her head. “No, he wasn’t born that way. There was an accident when we were eight. He was lighting an oil lamp during a power outage, and there was blowback. It flashed into his face and he inhaled some of it. He was in the hospital for forever, and when he got out, he couldn’t talk anymore because of the scar tissue on his vocal cords. He can make some sounds and stuff, but talking causes him excruciating pain, so he doesn’t do it.”
“God, that’s got to be hard,” Kimberly said.
“It’s life,” Sadie said. “Nothing you can do about it except to live with it and adapt accordingly. Which we’ve done. It’s our normal now, and there’s nothing hard about it.”
Kimberly winced, realizing just how stupid that comment had been. “Sorry. I just…sorry, that was stupid. I didn’t mean it like that at all. I just have occasional flare-ups of foot-in-mouth disease, and I really stuck it in there this time, huh?”
Sadie’s lips quirked, and she turned her attention back to the map. “Need some salt and pepper for that foot?”
Kimberly bit back a snort, and both of them laughed.
“You aren’t planning to go by yourself, are you?” Sadie asked.
Kimberly almost said, “No, of course not,” but then she hesitated. The thought of going by herself had crossed her mind; she was worried that she wouldn’t be able to find a capable volunteer to go with her on such a dangerous trip. And it would be a dangerous trip; there was no doubt about it. If she didn’t die before it was all over, she’d be surprised.
“I’d like to find someone to go with me,” she finally said. “But I’ll go by myself if I have to. If nobody is willing to take the trip with me.”
“I’d go,” Sadie said. “If nobody else volunteered. But I’d have to bring Jude with me, and I don’t know if it’s something he would want to do.”
“Yeah, and I’m not sure I’d want to drag you two along with me,” Kimberly said. “It’s nothing against you guys, but I don’t know you very well, and I’m not sure I’m willing to haul you along on a trip like that.” You’re just kids, she wanted to say but didn’t.
“It’s okay,” Sadie assured her. “I understand.” She offered Kimberly her pen back, and Kimberly tucked it behind her right ear. They were silent again for another minute, and then Sadie asked, “So…is there someone in particular you want to go with you?” There was a note of mischievousness in her voice that made Kimberly raise her eyebrows.
“What makes you think there’s someone in particular?” Kimberly asked.
“Because I’m not stupid, and I saw how you were looking at that blonde guy and how he was looking at you when your back was turned earlier, when we were in the kitchen,” Sadie said. “What’s his name again? Ewan?”
“Ethan,” Kimberly corrected. Her mind slid back to the porch, to the way she’d felt when Ethan had pressed her gently against the railing and their mouths had met in that kiss. She had wanted more, so much more, and she’d nearly told him so outright. Hell, a few seconds longer and she’d have been climbing him like a tree, right there on the porch for God and everybody to see.
“No,” Kimberly finally said. “No, there isn’t much of anything going on with me and Ethan.”
“But you want there to be, don’t you?” Sadie said, a slight twinkle in her eye. “You want him to be the one to go with you, right?”
“Why are we talking about this again?” Kimberly asked. She started to gather her map, folding it carefully along the creases.
“I just want to make sure you’re going to be okay out there and that you’ll at least have some good backup,” Sadie said. “Since you said that you’ll be carrying something important, which just makes me think it has something to do with the cure for this virus.”
Kimberly raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“What? Dr. Rivers told me he used to work for the CDC, and you’re trying to get out with important stuff, and the rumor is that the CDC had something to do with the zombie virus. So you’ll probably be carrying a possible cure out of here. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”
“You’re very perceptive,” Kimberly commented.
“Yeah, that’s what my dad used to tell me when I was younger.”
Kimberly finished folding the map. “Where are your parents, anyway?”
Sadie looked away from her then, the misch
ievous look fading from her expression, and Kimberly knew the answer. It was the same sad-as-fuck story that they’d all had to deal with.
“Didn’t make it,” Sadie said. “Dad stayed behind to give me, Jude, and Mom a chance to get out of the house, and Mom got sick and died about a month later.”
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Kimberly said with genuine sympathy.
Sadie waved a hand at her negligently. “Don’t worry about it. Shit happens, and Dad prepared me and Jude for stuff like that.”
Kimberly gave her a curious look.
“Dad was Army Special Forces. He taught us everything we know about survival, living off the land, all that good stuff. And he taught us how to fight. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have survived this long.”
“Your dad sounds like a tough guy,” Kimberly commented.
“Oh, he was,” Sadie said. “Very tough. Very smart. He always thought that one day we’d need his knowledge. I don’t think he expected it to be because of zombies.”
“Nobody ever expects zombies, Sadie,” Kimberly said, fighting off a small grin that quirked at the corner of her mouth. “Just like nobody ever expects the Spanish Inquisition.” She tucked the folded map into her backpack that was on one of the dining chairs nearby and zipped the bag closed, shouldering it. “Come on, let’s see if we can track down Brandt and find out if there’s something we need to be doing. I’ve done all the planning I can for now; everything else will have to wait until I’m out on the road.”
Chapter 21
Jude was supposed to be sleeping, but with the noise outside—the constant beat of hands and bodies against the wall, the semi-erratic pop of rifle fire somewhere nearby—it was all but impossible. He had spent a couple hours tossing and turning before giving up and crawling out of the twin bed the nice foreign woman—Cade, he remembered—had shown him to earlier. He made the bed, pulling the sheets tight, tucking them in military-style, with crisp folds and tucks, just like his father had taught him. Then he went to the dresser on the other side of the room, skirting the empty twin bed that Sadie had used.
The Becoming (Book 4): Under Siege Page 15