The journey passes by in a blur, and we stop for lunch several hours later. We’re somewhere on the outskirts of Detroit, in a mostly deserted area that has probably been neglected long before the end of the world. I haven’t been paying any attention to the area around us or the time that’s passed. My focus has been solely on Ryder as his condition begins to deteriorate. His fever from before is getting steadily worse and now the mere touch of his skin burns my hand.
When we get off the bus to eat a hasty lunch and stretch our legs before heading into the heart of Detroit, Ryder runs to the back tires as if there’s a horde of zombies hot on his tail. I hang back a bit to give him some privacy, but I hear him being violently sick and I can’t ignore it. When I get closer, I can tell it’s not going to be a pleasant sight, and I’m right. Ryder hacks up a mouthful of blood, spitting on the ground to try and clear his mouth. He wipes his hand across his lips and grimaces at the red smear across his tan skin.
He spits one more time before turning away from his mess. “I’ll be alright,” he lies.
I put my hand across his forehead and he tries to flinch away. Instead of backing out of my reach, he stumbles and collides with my hand, giving me a split second to feel how burning hot his skin is. “Ryder?” I ask quietly, my stomach clenching in fear. “Can you see?”
“A little,” he admits, his voice high and tense. “My vision is getting dark and kinda hazy. I can make out people easily enough, but other stuff is starting to blur together,” he says, closing his eyes. “The words on the bus are a mystery to me, and the buildings are all blending into the next. I should tell the others.”
“Why didn’t you say anything before now?” I ask, tears welling up in my eyes. I try to blink them away furiously. “You should have told me, Ryder.”
“I didn’t wanna scare you.”
“Well I am scared, and you keeping things like this a secret from everyone is only going to make me even more scared.” I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his chest, ignoring the heat and the sweat that rolls off of him in waves. “We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s wrong with you. You have to keep us updated.”
“I don’t think it’ll matter soon,” he says quietly. “I don’t have much longer, and we’re almost there anyways. Another hour, maybe two or three tops. Hopefully we’ll get there before then. Shouldn’t be a problem with how close we are. I just hope we don’t run into any problems that slow us down, or I won’t make it to see you guys safely there.”
I try to clamp down on my feelings, but a small whimper escapes before I can. I’ve been so focused on the possibility of getting Ryder back that I haven’t taken the time to really mourn losing him in the first place. I’ve convinced myself that no matter what, I’ll get him back and it’ll be like nothing happened, even if he isn’t the same person he is now. I’ve told myself that I won’t really be losing him, but it’s a lie meant to comfort me so I didn’t have to face the reality.
Ryder is going to die in the next couple of hours. He’s going to be ripped away from me, and then he’s going to come back. He’ll probably end up a zombie for at least a little bit while we get the cure to work. He’s going to suffer a fate worse than death.
The tears stream down my face and I start to choke. Ryder pulls me closer as I cry, but for once it doesn’t comfort me; it makes me feel claustrophobic and smothered. Suddenly, I can’t breathe or function. All I can do is cry and gasp for air like my lungs have been punctured or flattened like pancakes. I can’t lose him. I can’t. Please…
Everyone keeps their distance while Ryder and I cry it out, and I’m forever grateful for it. We need the space and time to ourselves, even if we don’t have the time to spare right now. I’m dangerously close to breaking, and it’s wise for them to keep their distance. All I want to do is scream and throw things and pull at my hair, cursing Dr. Richards for the mess that he created. Ryder’s presence is the only thing that keeps me sane at the moment, and I know the feeling is mutual.
Right now, his body is rapidly failing him, and we’re about to head into one of the most dangerous situations we’ve ever been in. He won’t be at his best, and there’s a chance he won’t be much help. He may even end up an active hindrance, because I would never leave him behind if he couldn’t keep up. If he can’t see, he can’t shoot a gun with any kind of accuracy. If he has to stop to be sick, the noise and smell of blood will attract zombies, not to mention it’ll slow us down.
When everyone is sure I’m done having my mini breakdown, Aaron clears his throat. “I hate to rush the two of you, but we have to get going. We’re gonna eat a light lunch to keep us energized and then we’re moving out. From this point on, we’re sticking to the plan we made last night. Try to stay together and don’t fall behind, because we might not be able to come back for you.” He looks at all of us. “This is your absolute last chance to back out. If you want to stay behind and wait with the bus, that’s fine. Nobody will think less of you for it.”
He waits for a moment, his eyes flicking from one face to the next. When nobody steps forward or makes a move to get back on the bus, he smiles. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I’m really glad we’re here right now, where we are. I believe this is God’s purpose for all of us, and I know He’ll see us through this.”
I see Madison roll her eyes. We’ve never been part of any largely religious family, but Aaron’s words don’t incite the same feelings of annoyance that they do with Madison. Instead, his words make me think. If it’s true that this is God’s purpose for all of us, does that mean we’re meant to succeed? And if we are meant for success by some higher power, does that necessarily mean that we’re going to succeed without casualties?
I manage to cast aside those thoughts while we scarf down a light meal of what we managed to save after having to abandon both vehicles—the last of the beef jerky, Gatorade provided by Allen and the community, along with some of the leftover soup from last night spooned into Styrofoam plastic cups. It’s cold, but it still tastes really good, and I hope it’ll be enough to keep us all going for the rest of the day.
When we’re done, I go around and collect our trash and dump it in the nearest garbage can. Just because the rest of the world is destroyed doesn’t mean I have to start littering now and make things even worse. When I come back, the others are getting on the bus. The door closes behind me, and I take a seat next to Ryder, who is surprisingly not in the far back anymore, but is huddled up front with the rest of our group.
“Aaron, I’m going down fast. I don’t know what will happen once we get there but I want you to know that I won’t blame you for having to put me down. If I become a threat to the group, do it. Don’t hesitate.” He glances up at me and sees the look of horror on my face, and he looks away in shame. “We already talked about that other thing. If the worst should happen…”
“Don’t worry about it, man. I’ve got it covered. We all do.” Aaron looks at me, his eyes full of concern and pain. I get the distinct impression whatever thing they’ve secretly talked about involves me and my well-being, but I refuse to think about Aaron and the others having to take care of me if the worst should happen.
The bus takes off and I hurry to slide into the seat beside Ryder. His face is pale and pinched in pain like it has been for the last few hours, and it’s getting worse and worse, seemingly by the minute. It won’t be long until he loses consciousness, and soon after that he’ll die. I’m not sure how long it’ll take him to come back since the time varies from person to person, just like the infection spreading, but I’m sure it won’t take long. If he dies before we make it to the lab, there’s a good chance Aaron will honor Ryder’s wish and put him down.
I won’t let that happen. He can try, but he’s not getting past me. I won’t let Ryder out of my sight just to make sure he’s okay.
Chapter Thirty-One
We follow the written instructions Dr. Richards left for us, and twenty minutes after our lunch break, w
e find ourselves looking down on a broken stretch of street that was obviously in terrible shape even before the world ended. I get the feeling that a lot of Detroit was like this, and hopefully we can start rebuilding it someday. But for now, it looks like a small bomb went off—cracked sidewalks, busted windows and broken glass, massive potholes, burned out cars, and blood everywhere.
There aren’t any recognizable buildings, only several gray stone buildings that look like the kind of warehouses that once stored spare office supplies. They’re all fenced in with regular wire fencing, probably to keep out the curious public. According to Dr. Richards’ notes, the warehouse will be marked with a specific series of numbers on the outside of the door, and inside we’ll find a spacious laboratory. The front gate should hopefully have been left unlocked after the evacuation process, so we won’t have any trouble getting in.
Except for the small horde of zombies milling around out front. It’s far too hard to get an accurate count with how much they’re moving, but I’d say there has to be at least forty of them. I don’t think our group can take them all, especially without Reese and with Ryder in such poor condition. As I think it, he leans down in the seat and pukes at his feet, his hand clenching on the edge of the seat as he hacks up another mouthful of bloody spit. Instinctively, I reach over and rub his back, trying to offer him any bit of comfort I can in these last moments.
“We’ll have to leave the bus here,” Allen says, pocketing the keys. “If we try to get any closer, the noise will get us swarmed. It’s already going to be impossible to get close enough to make it through the gate without being seen.”
Roberts checks his weapon, like the rest of us begin to. “We planned for this, remember? Chad and I will lay down some cover fire and draw their attention away from the rest of you. With them following the two of us, you guys will be able to sneak right past and get that cure started.”
“No,” Ryder says, his voice hoarse. “We can’t risk losing two of our most skilled shooters. We might need you once we’re inside. At this point, who knows what the conditions are like inside. There could be hundreds of them inside. Poor schmucks that weren’t important enough to be evacuated like Dr. Richards. They’re going to need you.”
“Then what do you suggest we do?”
Without missing a beat, Ryder answers. “I’ll do it.”
I gasp. “Ryder—”
“I’ll take out as many of them as I can, and when I’ve got their attention on me I’ll draw them off down the block so they won’t circle back and come after you again. I’ll keep them busy and buy you guys enough time to get safely inside. Then it’ll be up to you to keep them safe like I’ve tried to do.”
“Ryder, no!” I snap, my eyes narrowing and my hands shaking. “I won’t let you sacrifice yourself like this.”
“It’s the logical choice,” he points out. “I’m not going to make it much longer. Odds are, I’ll just turn anyways once we’re inside, and you’ll have to either put me down so I don’t hurt any of you, or leave me to wander around and hope someone doesn’t come along and put a bullet in my head. At least this way, I don’t have to worry about hurting any of you because I’ll be turning away from everyone I care about.”
“But what if they catch up to you and there’s nothing left to reanimate? The cure will still bring you back, but you’ll just bleed to death immediately after. We can’t risk that happening,” I say, clutching his arm so tight I’m afraid I might hurt him. “You do understand that, right? If you do this, there’s an even bigger chance you won’t be coming back to me.”
His hand lightly caresses my face, and I lean into his warm touch. “It’s a risk we have to take, Sam. We can’t ask two perfectly able-bodied shooters to draw them off and leave us at a disadvantage when I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.”
“But—”
“I know you’re scared,” he says softly, as if the entire rest of the bus isn’t watching us and hanging on our every word. “But it’s going to be okay, one way or another. If I can, I’ll lead them off and hide in a car and wait to turn, and I’ll come back to you. If I don’t come back, my sacrifice will help ensure a better future for everyone, including you. You’ll be able to live safe from this nightmare. I consider that a good thing to risk my life for—your future.”
“Ryder, you really don’t have to do this,” Aaron says. “We planned for it.”
“And the plan was stupid,” Todd says, earning a glare from Madison and myself. “He knows that, just like we all did. He’s right. It makes no sense to let the two of them sacrifice themselves. Once we get inside, we’re going to lose Ryder, and where does that leave us? Up shit creek without a paddle. I hate to admit this because I like the guy, but his way is the best way.” He looks at Madison. “So you can stop glaring at me, okay? I don’t want him to do it, but of our options, it’s the better one.”
“There has to be another way. What if we just find some high ground and pick them off one at a time?” Madison suggests, her eyes wide and full of blind hope.
Todd snorts. “What high ground? This is the only high ground in the whole area, and none of us are sharp-shooters like Reese was,” he says. “Without him and his rifle, we’ll just be making more noise to draw even more of them to the area.
Aaron sighs. “I think they’re both right,” he says, looking away from me. “We don’t have any other realistic options if we’re going to see this through all the way. We can’t risk losing Chad and Roberts.” He finally looks at me, but I can’t tell what kind of look he gives me through the tears that are pouring down my cheeks. “I’m sorry, Sam. But this is Ryder’s choice, and he’s the only one that can make it.”
Allen, Chad, and Roberts get off the bus first, followed closely by Madison, Todd, and Aaron. When it’s just Ryder and I alone, I turn to him. “I hate that you’re doing this,” I say, looking at my shaking hands. “I don’t wanna lose you.”
“I know, but it’s what needs to be done. I don’t expect you to understand that right now, but you will eventually. But I don’t want you to worry about me, okay? If I come back, I will find you,” he says, forcing me to look at him, to hear the sincerity in his words. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I’ll make my way back to Chicago—back to you. One day you’ll find me standing outside those gates shouting your name, and everything will be okay.”
I nod, too afraid to speak in case it breaks me. All I can do is curl up against him one last time while his arm goes around me. He kisses my temple and his lips linger against my skin. “I love you, Sam.”
“I love you, too.”
I could spend all day just curled up here against Ryder’s side, but we don’t have that kind of time anymore, and Ryder knows it. When he pulls away from me, a tiny part of me dies inside, knowing it’ll be the last time this Ryder touches me. He gets off the bus without another look in my direction, in case what he sees tempts him to change his mind. Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I grab my weapon and get off the bus, pulling the doors closed behind me so nothing can get on while we’re gone.
Ryder and Aaron clasp arms and hug, putting aside any differences they’ve had in the past. “Don’t screw this up,” he says.
Aaron chuckles, but his eyes look tired and afraid. “I’ll do my best. Be careful out there, man.”
He nods and checks his weapon one last time. His hands are shaking and they look weak, like he can barely manage to hold the weapon up. His skin is quickly going from pale to yellow, and I know the change will happen any time. I nearly close my eyes, afraid that this image of Ryder will be the last one I ever have, but I can’t bear to look away. Not when his last act is to be so brave and selfless.
He disappears down the hill, jogging unsteadily toward the warehouse and the zombies waiting out front. I have to fight the urge to run after him and beg him to stay, crying and screaming if that’s what it takes. But Madison grabs my hand and gives it a comforting squeeze, anchoring me firmly in place. I may have
been able to watch him leave, but I can’t watch him sacrifice himself. I can’t.
I close my eyes as the first shot goes off. More rapidly follow, and I assume a zombie is going to drop with every one. I try to count the shots, and come up with a grand total of seven. When there’s nothing in the air but silence, I open my eyes. Ryder is gone and so are the zombies in front of the warehouse. I catch one last glimpse of him as he hobbles around a nearby corner, wheezing and gasping for air. Zombies follow closely behind, gaining on him with every step. His failing health is slowing him down, while they don’t ever tire. It won’t be long before they trap him and he has to lock himself away somewhere.
And once he’s locked away, he’s going to turn. He’s going to turn, and his last moments will be alone and scared and in pain.
“Come on,” Allen says gently. “We can’t let this opportunity go to waste.”
Chad and Roberts dart out front of our group, making sure the coast is clear. They pick off a couple of stragglers as we rush across the blacktop, but we manage to make it to the fence with no problems. Aaron says a quick prayer and yanks on the gate. It slides open with no problem but it makes an achingly loud screech as it does. “Hurry,” he says, ushering the rest of us through. “Anything still in the area will have heard that and come running.”
I’m the last one through the gate, and Aaron draws it closed behind us. A zombie hurls itself at the fence, rattling it as it tries to reach through the sections to grab us. We take a second to quickly catch our breath before Aaron leads the way up to the main entrance. There’s a thick chain interlocking the handles, but the padlock isn’t secured, and he undoes it with trembling hands. The chain clunks as it falls to the steps, and we pull the doors open.
Zombie World (Zombie Apocalypse #3) Page 44