Brandt pulled a chain out of his pocket and passed it to her; the key dangled from it. She twined the chain around her fingers and clutched the key tightly.
“Don’t worry about bringing the key back,” Brandt said. “Cade has one, and we won’t be here much longer anyway, once we start evacuating.”
“I’ll leave the key in the storage room’s padlock,” Kimberly offered. “We won’t take much, if you want to pack supplies for the evac.”
Brandt shook his head. “No, we’re leaving it. We don’t have a way to move it out of here right now, and besides, everyone in Woodside is supposed to have their own bug-out bags. Anyone who hasn’t prepared theirs is shit out of luck.”
“Kim, we’re wasting time,” Ethan said, scooping up the second bug-out bag and shifting it onto his shoulder. “We really, really need to get moving before conditions deteriorate.”
Brandt wrenched the door open, and a hint of cool evening air flowed in. He turned back to face them and swept Ethan up in a hug. Ethan returned it with a vigorous pat on the back. Kimberly was surprised when Brandt hugged her too.
“You two be extra careful, okay?” he said. “I’ll leave a note hidden in the grandfather clock with information on where we end up going, in case you make it back and it’s safe to come inside.”
Suddenly, there was a loud crack, like the sound of wood being forcibly split in two. The groan of metal against metal followed it.
Ethan grabbed Kimberly’s hand. “Time to go,” he said urgently, pulling her out of the house and onto the porch.
Kimberly didn’t have time to think about how scared she was as they moved. They paused for a second at the end of the sidewalk, and Ethan looked around as if he were trying to get his bearings. Kimberly took her cue from him, sweeping her eyes over their surroundings, searching for any nasty surprises in their path to the rec center. Nothing moved. Not even a breeze stirred the few stunted, half-stripped trees that were left. The thirty-foot wall surrounding Woodside blocked most of the wind.
Then Kimberly shifted her eyes in the other direction, turning her attention to the gates, and she could have sworn her heart skipped a beat. The gates had begun to lean inward, the structural integrity undermined by the hands that beat on it and the bodies that pressed against it. She swallowed compulsively, her nerves almost getting the better of her, and grasped the hilt of her machete, grinding her fingers into it. Even as she watched, the sound of wood cracking and metal squealing met her ears again, and the gates sagged further. She moved closer to Ethan, and nudged his arm to get his attention. “Eth, look at that!” She pointed, and Ethan followed the direction of her hand.
“Damn, they must have shifted the metal gate off its track,” Ethan guessed. “I’ll be surprised if it lasts the night.”
He sounded shaken, and Kimberly figured his mind was on the friends he was leaving behind. She took his hand in her free one and squeezed, trying to reassure him that everything would be okay. He gave her a small, grateful smile in return and nodded in the direction of the rec center. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get moving while we still can.”
Kimberly followed him to the rec center’s back entrance, letting him push the door open and lead the way into the dark building beyond. The door swung shut with a click, enveloping them in total darkness, where all Kimberly could hear was the sounds of her and Ethan’s breathing, his slow and steady, hers harsh and erratic. Then a flashlight clicked on, the beam aimed away from them, and Kimberly squinted against the sudden light as she got a look at their surroundings.
The back door deposited them into the center’s kitchen, and Ethan’s flashlight reflected off the room’s stainless steel appliances. Kimberly’s shoulders relaxed as she eyed the gas-powered industrial stove, the large stainless steel countertops, and the pots and pans that hung from the racks above the counters. She was intimately familiar with this room, having spent as many hours here as she had in the medical house, helping to cook and prepare foods for storage. The massive walk-in freezer—that hadn’t been anywhere in the realm of cool in over a year—was set into the wall. She pulled the key free from her pocket.
The sound of a shoe scuffing against the tiled floor met her ears, and she glanced back at Ethan, thinking he’d made the sound. But Ethan hadn’t moved. He’d heard the sound too, because he was more alert, his eyes wide as he scanned every inch of the room visible from his position. When she raised her eyebrows in silent question, he shook his head and motioned for her to continue on. She nodded and lifted the padlock. Then she let it go. It struck the stainless steel door with a clang. “Holy shit,” she said, her voice low but loud enough to carry to Ethan.
“What?” Ethan asked.
Kimberly traced her finger along the U-shaped hasp of the padlock, her fingertip catching on the sharp, uneven edge that cleaved the U in two. “Somebody’s been in here,” she reported to Ethan. “I think they cut the padlock with bolt cutters.”
A shoe squeaked against the floor, and Ethan raced to her side. He angled his body to block her from whatever—whoever was with them. Kimberly was alarmed to see he had his Glock in his right hand. “Ethan,” she started, but he gave her a quick shake of his head to cut her off.
“There’s someone in here with us,” he whispered.
Her shoulders stiffened. She felt a target paint itself between her shoulder blades.
“Is it one of the infected?” Kimberly asked, thinking of the way the front gates were collapsing under the weight of their bodies and the way the infected were climbing over the wall in batches. Suppose one of them had gotten into the center? The thought gave her chills.
Ethan suddenly lifted his pistol and aimed it at the back door. “Stop right there,” he barked.
Kimberly heard the hardness in his voice, and she followed his gaze but couldn’t see who—or what—he was addressing.
“Don’t move a muscle, or I’ll introduce your brains to the wall behind you,” he added.
“I don’t think that will be necessary, Ethan,” a familiar voice said. The shadows shifted, and Kimberly’s eyes adjusted enough to make out the shape of a person—Dominic Jackson. Her shoulders relaxed, but only a fraction, as her annoyance reared its ugly head.
“Dominic, what are you doing in here?” she demanded. She noticed Ethan hadn’t lowered his pistol; it was still pointed in the other man’s general direction. Good. That meant Ethan trusted Dominic about as much as she did, which meant not at all.
“Probably the same thing you’re doing, unless I’ve missed the mark.”
Ethan adjusted the flashlight’s beam, and Dominic came into view. He stood near the door with a bulging backpack on his back and loaded down with weapons like he was getting ready to wage a one-man war. The sight of the oversized backpack made Kimberly grit her teeth. “No, you’re not doing the same thing we are,” she snapped. “Because we have a key, while you’re breaking in and stealing things like a thief.”
Dominic was unperturbed by her pronouncement. He glanced at her before turning his dark eyes back to Ethan. “You aren’t planning to do something stupid with that gun, are you?” he asked, his voice steady and his tone measured. “Thinking about arresting me for stealing a few supplies? There’s no law here anymore, Ethan, and you’re not a cop. Hell, you won’t even be a citizen of Woodside for much longer, judging by your own bags. Where are you going?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Ethan replied, “because it looks like you’re planning to give up your citizenship of Woodside too.”
“I was never a citizen of Woodside,” Dominic replied. “Atlanta’s survivors don’t want me here. I’m making arrangements to make that happen for them.”
“They won’t be here much longer either,” Ethan said. “They’re evacuating the community ahead of the infected.”
Dominic didn’t seem to hear him. “Where are you going to go?”
“North,” Ethan replied vaguely.
“Ah.” Dominic glanced toward the kitchen do
or that led into the large, open dining area. “We’re heading to Philadelphia.”
“We?” Kimberly repeated. As far as she could see, it was just Dominic in the kitchen.
“Yeah, me and Remy.”
Kimberly felt a sudden vibe of hostility rolling off Ethan. She wanted to take his hand again and try to calm him down, but she didn’t dare touch him when he was so infuriated. At the same time, she couldn’t help but wonder why he was angry. A surge of jealousy welled up in her, and she did her best to fight it back, even as Ethan snarled, “What the hell kind of bullshit did you tell Remy to get her to go along with something like that?”
“He didn’t have to tell me anything to get me to go along with it,” Remy said as she stepped through the dining room door to join them. Her expression was grim, almost sad, as she let the door swing shut behind her. “Hi, Ethan. Long time, no speak.”
Chapter 27
Dominic had the sensation that he was stuck between two immovable objects as Remy and Ethan stood on opposite ends of the room and stared at each other. With the exception of the moment they’d faced off outside the gates, they hadn’t seen each other since Ethan had succumbed to the Michaluk Virus. The confrontation, when combined with their history and Dominic’s feelings for Remy, made him uncomfortable. Judging by the look on Kimberly’s face, she shared his discomfort.
Finally, Ethan cleared his throat, lowered his gun, and shifted. “Remy, what are you doing here?”
“I’m going with Dominic,” she said, as if it should have been obvious to everyone in the room.
Dominic had a feeling that he knew where this was going, and it wasn’t anywhere pleasant. The tension was starting to amp up, and Ethan’s next words would set the tone for the argument to follow.
“You’re sick, Remy,” Ethan said. “You shouldn’t be going anywhere without Derek.”
“I’m not sick,” Remy replied. “Not anymore.”
Kimberly sputtered, her face flushed as she tried to get the words out. “You!” she exclaimed, jabbing her finger at Remy. “That’s where Derek’s sample went! You stole it!”
“You can’t steal what rightfully belongs to you!” Remy bit back. She clenched both hands into fists, and Dominic stepped closer to her so he could interfere if she tried to do something rash.
“It didn’t belong to you!” Kimberly retorted. “It belonged to Derek!”
“Technically, it belonged to Brandt,” Ethan spoke up. “It was, after all, his blood.”
“Blood?” Remy repeated. She sounded stricken, similar to how the surprise in Dominic’s gut felt. “That was blood?”
“What the hell did you think it was?” Kimberly snapped. “Cherry Kool-Aid?”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Dominic spoke up. “What’s done is done, and there’s no sense fighting over what can’t be changed. We’ve got more important shit to deal with.”
“He’s right,” Ethan said, surprising Dominic. “Kim and I have samples we need to get out of here before the infected get in. Any help you can give us would be great.”
“Where are you taking the samples?” Dominic asked.
“Derek told us about some CDC facilities up north,” Kimberly said. “We’re going to try to find one that’s still operational to see if they can do anything with the samples, since Derek can’t take his research any further.” Though Kimberly didn’t trust Dominic, she knew that he wasn’t a bad person and would never get in the way of a possible cure. Maybe he could even offer some advice.
“Try USAMRIID, if you can’t get anyone at the CDC,” Dominic suggested. He shrugged his pack off his shoulder and started digging through it, pulling free bottles of water and packages of food. “Here, take these,” he offered. “I can restock later. The sooner you get out of here, the better, especially if you’ve basically got the fate of the human race in your backpacks.”
“No pressure or anything,” Ethan muttered, accepting the supplies. Dominic ignored his sarcasm and dug further into his bag, searching for anything else he could offer them. Ultimately, he gave up; everything left in his bag were the basics, stuff Ethan and Kimberly likely already had in theirs.
“So where are you guys going to try first?” Dominic asked, zipping his backpack closed and shouldering it. “Or is that a classified information kind of thing?”
Ethan and Kimberly exchanged a look, and Dominic could read the answer plainly in their eyes. Neither of them had any intention of telling him anything. It was obvious that, despite everything he’d done for Woodside, he still wasn’t trusted or accepted. He’d come to expect that from almost everyone; after all, most of the people there had no idea of the pains he’d taken on their behalf. He expected it from Ethan, since he was unaware of things that had happened in Woodside since he’d been there. But from Kimberly? He expected better. She, of all people, knew what he’d done to help Woodside, and her distrust hurt the most.
“Never mind,” he muttered. “Not like you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“Dominic,” Kimberly started to say, but he put up a hand to stop her.
“We need to get you two out of here while there’s still time,” he said. “I’m sure it won’t be long before the infected either encircle the community or break through the gates, and personally, I’d rather not be here when it happens.”
“How do you propose doing that?” Ethan asked.
“I could ask you the same question,” Dominic retorted. “You were planning to leave. Did you not consider how you were going to get out?”
“We were planning to climb the wall,” Kimberly said. Even as she spoke, Dominic heard the growing doubt in her voice.
“You two are hopeless,” Dominic muttered. He glanced toward the door they’d entered through and then motioned to them both. “Come on. The least I can do is help you guys get out safely,” he offered. “Everything after that is, of course, up to you.”
“Where are we going?” Ethan asked. “Just in case we get separated if something happens between here and there.”
Dominic looked at him dubiously, trying to decide if his loss of privacy was worth the risk. “My house,” he said. “If we get separated, head for my house. You should be able to get inside with no problem, because I left the front door unlocked. Worst case scenario, lock yourselves inside, and we’ll catch up when we can.”
When they were halfway to Dominic’s house, with Dominic and Remy leading the way, Remy spoke up. “I say we go with them,” she said. “They’re heading somewhat north, and the least we could do is escort them until we need to split off for Pennsylvania.”
“And what point would that serve?” Dominic asked. “I doubt they want us along. Besides, it’d be safer for them if we didn’t go with them. Smaller group means less chance of getting noticed by the infected.”
“But what if they end up needing help?” Remy protested.
“So what if they do?” Dominic retorted. “They’re adults who have tons of experience handling themselves against the infected. They’ll be fine. Besides, we should help evac the rest of the community.”
Remy made a face but didn’t respond, just gave him a short nod and shifted the sheathed bolo knife on her belt so it sat a few inches further back. “So when are we going to split?” she asked.
“As soon as we finish getting everyone out,” Dominic started, but his words were cut off by a sound from the front of the community. He missed a step, staggering off the edge of the sidewalk and into the gutter. If it weren’t for Remy’s surprisingly strong grip on his bicep, he would have fallen onto the hard pavement. He regained his balance and half-turned to look in the direction the sound had come from, squinting in the darkness as if he could make something out despite the distance.
It had been a crack, loud and sharp, like a rifle report but without the crispness of a bullet leaving a barrel. It echoed into the night, bouncing off buildings to reach his ears, stopping his heart in one breath only to restart it in the next. Then it rang out again, this time longer,
more drawn-out, groaning as if some great beast were in its death throes. Then a crash, a rending of metal and wood, followed the groan. Dominic’s brain snapped out of its confused haze, and realization struck.
“Oh shit,” he breathed and grabbed Remy’s arm. He propelled her ahead of him. “The gates!” he shouted. “I think the gates have just collapsed!” He ushered Ethan and Kimberly out in front of him and took up the rear. He drew his pistol from the holster.
“Remy!” Dominic shouted, and she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Get them to the wall! I’ll be there in a minute!” She acknowledged his orders with a nod, and he veered off toward his house, bounding up the porch steps and throwing open the front door. His rifle was propped against the wall just inside. He grabbed it, scooped up the few remaining magazines of ammunition from the narrow table by the door, and stuffed them into his bag. He ran to join the others.
Remy, Ethan, and Kimberly were gathered at the door he’d cut into the wall; Ethan had the padlock in his grasp and was pulling at it, wrenching it on its hasp, trying to rip it free from its lock. “Move!” he barked, raising his rifle in a two-handed grasp. Ethan barely made it out of the way before Dominic brought the butt of the rifle down onto the padlock. It took three strikes, but the lock snapped on the final blow. He tore the padlock free and tossed it into the grass before ripping the panel from the wall, swinging it aside and holding it out of the way. Ethan stepped through the open gap in the fencing. He lifted his Glock and a flashlight, sweeping the immediate surroundings outside the wall. Once he was satisfied the way was clear, he motioned to Kimberly. She slipped out, and before Ethan could move away, Dominic reached through the gap and caught him by the bicep.
The Becoming (Book 4): Under Siege Page 19