“The lady’s right,” Brandt said with a smirk. “We really should be focusing on getting out of here.”
Cade made a face as neither man moved to lower his gun. She set her rifle on the couch, stormed over to Brandt, and shoved his arm down to his side. “I said put your damn gun down,” she repeated, just loud enough for him to hear.
“Fine, but only because you asked so nicely,” Brandt replied just as quietly. Cade waited until Brandt flipped the safety on and put the gun away before she stepped back and nodded to Ethan.
Ethan slowly relaxed and lowered his gun. He hesitated before he slid it into his holster. Brandt leaned against the doorframe once more as if nothing untoward had happened. “So what do you propose we do?” Ethan asked.
Brandt pulled a small notebook out of his back pocket and tossed it onto the coffee table. “My observations,” he explained. “We start by getting you two educated. We can’t deal with this shit without knowing what it is we’re dealing with.”
Chapter 10
Brandt dropped heavily into the armchair across from the couch. He rubbed both hands over his face and through his short dark hair as he slumped over to rest his elbows on his knees. He yawned widely and felt the muscles in his jaw stretch.
“Tired?” a voice asked above him.
Brandt tilted his head up from his contemplation of the floor just enough to see Cade standing in the doorway between the living room and kitchen. Ethan banged around in the kitchen, hopefully making something for them to eat. Brandt hadn’t been eating as well or as much as he should have been in the past week, and he had begun to feel it. It’d been difficult to keep food down, though, so he’d been reluctant to put anything in his mouth.
Brandt discreetly trailed his eyes over the Israeli woman in the doorway as she crossed her arms over her chest. Brandt thought Cade was stunning; he’d thought so the minute he’d laid eyes on her on the street that morning. He found the combination of dark hair and vivid blue eyes intriguing, and the fact that she was a military woman drew his attention even more. IDF babe indeed.
“Yeah, I’m absolutely wiped,” Brandt admitted. Cade didn’t move from the doorway; she continued to watch him as she leaned against the doorframe and cocked her hip to rest her weight on one leg. Brandt tried to decipher the expression in Cade’s eyes, but he found the task impossible; the woman was a closed book.
“You should rest,” Cade suggested. “You look like you’re ready to fall over.”
“I feel about like it too,” Brandt said as he gave Cade another discreet look. He rubbed at his face again as he shook himself free from his sly stare. He leaned back in the chair and rested his head against the backrest. “I’ve been by myself for the past week, just trying to stay ahead of the infection. I haven’t had much time for sleep.”
Cade finally moved away from the door to walk farther into the living room. She sat on the edge of the coffee table right in front of him and rested her elbows on her knees. Brandt’s eyes drifted to the neckline of her slightly too-large flannel shirt; the top few buttons were undone, and it hung open just enough for him to make out the very edge of her bra. Brandt forced his eyes away and back to her face. Cade smirked at him and shifted to adjust her shirt so nothing was revealed.
“Where exactly are you from?” Cade asked as she idly buttoned her shirt higher. “We’ve told you some about us, but I still don’t know anything about you.”
Brandt shrugged nonchalantly. He slumped down in his seat and felt the muscles in his back start to relax. He felt a bit sheepish at the fact that he’d practically grilled Cade and Ethan for information earlier but hadn’t said anything about himself in return. “I’m from Atlanta.”
Cade sat forward. “Atlanta?” she repeated. “You lived there, or you were just on active duty there?”
“Both,” Brandt answered. “I grew up in the Peachtree area, and my parents lived there.” Brandt brushed his hands through his hair again and grimaced at how dirty it felt. Now that he had companions with whom to share watch duty, he really needed to find his way to a shower, pronto. “I … volunteered for duty when they needed soldiers at the CDC, and I was there when the infected—” Brandt stopped in midsentence as dark memories sprang to mind. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “It’s been a rough week,” he finished simply.
Cade didn’t push the issue any further. If she’d tried, Brandt would have bluntly refused to tell her anything more. There were things he couldn’t tell her and Ethan—things he wouldn’t tell them. They’d never understand.
“All the more reason for you to get some rest,” Cade said. “I can handle watch for now, since you say we need it. You should sleep while I keep an eye out.” Brandt glanced at the kitchen door, and Cade followed his gaze. “And I’ll make sure Ethan gets some sleep too.” She leaned toward him again and winked as she added conspiratorially, “He gets seriously cranky when he hasn’t had any sleep.”
“I noticed,” Brandt said with a soft chuckle. He sat up straighter and stretched to work the kinks out of his stiff back. “Is he always so trigger happy when he’s tired too?”
“I don’t know,” Cade admitted. She shrugged. “I’ve never really seen him in a situation involving exhaustion and guns.”
“So are you two …?” He trailed off meaningfully and raised his eyebrows in a silent suggestion.
“What?” Cade looked back at the kitchen door. She suddenly laughed as comprehension dawned on her. “Oh no! We’ve just been friends for the past seven years,” she said. She shook her head to emphasize her point, even as a sad look crossed her face. “He’s married,” Cade said. “Was. And I had a boyfriend.”
“What happened to them?” Brandt asked gently. He didn’t really have to ask. He knew what the answer would be: the same answer that nearly everyone with whom he’d crossed paths over the past week had given him.
Cade didn’t look at Brandt. She just waved her hand vaguely at the air around them. “All of this. Anna was a nurse on duty at the hospital. It burned. And I … I had to shoot Andrew.”
Brandt nodded his understanding. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what that’s like, if you want me to be perfectly honest. I mean, I haven’t had to deal with putting down someone close to me. My parents passed a long time before this happened. And my sister was taken in the first wave at Emory University.”
“My parents have already passed too, back home in Israel,” Cade said. “Thank God for that. But my older sister is over there, and I don’t think I have much of a hope in hell of being able to get in touch with her. Not with the way things are now.”
A silence fell between them, but it was a companionable silence in which both spent their time lost in their thoughts. When Brandt spoke again, it was lighthearted. “Damn, I could use a drink,” he admitted as he dropped both arms down to the chair’s armrests. “But I’ve decided no drinking while this shit is going on, am I right?”
Cade nodded and stood up. “I’ll at least get you some water,” she offered as she went to the kitchen again.
Brandt watched Cade go, his eyes drifting to her slightly snug jeans as she walked away. He shook himself as he relaxed in the chair with some degree of effort. He’d been so tense over the past week that he couldn’t imagine ever being relaxed again. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told Cade that it had been a long week.
Brandt had spent the past week running as fast as he could and as far as he could from Atlanta and the virus spreading out rapidly from it, only to find another strain of the virus staring him in the face coming from Birmingham. He’d done things of which he wasn’t proud. He’d stolen cars and motorcycles and even some teenager’s bike right out of a front yard. He had bought supplies from stores until he’d run out of money and until his credit cards were maxed out, and he never intended to pay the bills. But it would all be worth it if Brandt could just survive the initial outbreak and learn how to fight against it. He couldn’t ask for anything more.
“Here,�
� Cade said as she reentered the room. Her voice broke through the haze of Brandt’s thoughts. She tapped him on the arm with a cold bottle of water to get his attention, and he opened his eyes.
“Hey, thanks,” Brandt said. He accepted the bottle and cracked it open. He took a long, deep swallow of the cold water as Ethan came in and sat down on the coffee table. The older man offered Brandt a plate that held a baked potato and some sort of meat that Brandt was reasonably sure was hamburger. He accepted it with gratitude. “Man, you went all out with the dinner, huh?” he said as he dug in.
“Just because the world is going to shit doesn’t mean I’m going to start eating a bunch of garbage,” Ethan said. He offered Cade a second plate and sat down with a third. He waited until the three of them were halfway through with their meals before he asked, “Are we going to make a plan or anything?” Ethan picked up the small notepad Brandt had tossed onto the coffee table. He rifled through the pages and then flipped the cover open and skimmed the first page.
“Yeah. You got a map?” Brandt asked around a mouthful of potato. He swallowed and took another drink of his water before he continued. “We need to pick a place to go and plan out how to get there.”
Ethan got up, leaving his food on the table, and headed to the front door. “Yeah, map’s out in the car,” he said. He unlocked the front door and started to pull it open.
Brandt shook his head and stood out of his chair. He set down his plate and grabbed his gun. “Wait, let me go with you,” he offered. “Never hurts to have backup.”
Ethan didn’t respond either way, so Brandt let him lead the way out the front door. He stepped out onto the porch in the chilly late-afternoon air and was surprised at how much cooler it had become in just a few hours. Earlier in the day, it had been abnormally warm for the time of year, and now it had dropped into the fifties and possibly even lower. As Brandt exhaled slowly, the air clouded faintly in front of him. He paused and looked back at Cade. She had followed them both to the doorway and had her rifle in hand. He smiled as he saw how prepared she was for anything; it was a good trait to have, considering what they faced.
“You stay up here,” Brandt suggested. “For backup for both of us. There’s no sense in all three of us going all the way to the car if we don’t need to.”
Cade nodded, though she didn’t look too pleased at the idea of being left at the house while Ethan and Brandt headed to the Jeep. Brandt nodded at her in return and followed Ethan out to the SUV. He kept his handgun gripped in both hands as he stood guard and scanned their surroundings as closely as the setting sun would allow. Ethan opened the passenger door and began to rifle through the belongings inside, searching for the road atlas he and Cade had left inside earlier and pulling it free from its spot between the front seats.
As Ethan straightened and tucked the book underneath his arm, Brandt saw a movement about a block down the street. Brandt couldn’t make out finer details, but it appeared to be three people coming in their direction; squinting revealed that two of the figures were teenagers—one of them a cheerleader still in her uniform and the other dressed in dark clothes. The third seemed to be a housewife in a sweat suit. The clothes of all three were stained with blood. Brandt frowned and pointed his gun in their direction. They weren’t close enough to shoot, and Brandt didn’t want to fire his weapon until he was absolutely sure they were the enemy. He didn’t want to risk killing uninfected people, and if these three were infected, the sound of gunfire would only draw more of the infected to them.
Ethan started to push the passenger door shut. Brandt saw the movement in the corner of his eye and caught the door in his hand. He made a shushing gesture and leaned close to Ethan. “Hey, Bennett, check that out down the street,” he murmured.
Ethan followed Brandt’s gaze and dropped his hand to his own gun. “Who are they?”
“I don’t know, but I’m beginning to suspect they’re infected,” Brandt admitted. Two more figures joined the three already in the street, and Brandt stiffened. “Don’t ask me how I know this,” Brandt continued. “I’ve just seen too many of them. They have this … distinctive way of moving, almost like they’re not totally in control of their bodies. They walk funny. They move funny. When you’ve seen enough of them, you just know.” Brandt took a slow step toward the house. “Don’t make any sudden movements or sounds,” he warned Ethan as he stepped up onto the sidewalk. “We need to get to Cade. It’s about time we moved out of here.”
Ethan nodded and eased the door shut, resting it against the frame without closing it completely before he followed Brandt onto the sidewalk. Ethan pulled out his gun and let it hang at his side. Brandt motioned for Cade to stay silent as the two men mounted the porch steps.
“What is it?” Cade asked, keeping her voice low. She backed into the entryway to give the two men space to come inside.
“We’ve got five people—”
“Make that seven,” Ethan reported. He joined the two of them just inside the door and leaned to look down the street again.
“Seven people,” Brandt corrected out loud. “And they’re coming this way. There’s a high chance they’re infected. I’d just about stake my life on it. I don’t want to take any risks by sticking around, though. So I think it’s probably a good idea if we roll the hell out of here.”
Cade shouldered her rifle and shifted her weight to one leg. “So what do you need me to do?” she asked. She slid into a calm, unperturbed demeanor, the hallmark of her military professionalism and skill. Brandt found the ease with which she did this highly impressive, but he was also mildly disturbed by the cold, hard emptiness that seemed to slip into her gaze as she looked at him. It was like looking into the dead eyes of a shark, a conscious-less machine. It was frightening, and Brandt couldn’t help but reassess his initial impression of Cade on the spot.
There was an odd silence among the three of them as Brandt tried to connect the dots in his mind to form a plan. But the presence of the infected approaching their current position was enough to rattle Brandt back into the hours immediately after the fall of Atlanta and the memories of the pursuit he’d faced as he attempted to flee the city.
Ethan noticed Brandt’s indecision. He stepped up and took charge in the absence of any suggestions from Brandt. “Cade, go get our bags,” he ordered. “I’ll get to the car and get it started. Brandt?”
Brandt snapped out of the memories clouding his head. “I’ve got something I need to get,” Brandt said. He moved to the staircase that led to the second floor. He went straight to the master bedroom and grabbed the large duffel bag sitting on the bed. He slung the heavy black bag over his shoulder and rejoined the others. Ethan was about to step out the front door when Brandt made it downstairs, and he called out to stop him. “Bennett, wait.”
“What is it?”
“I have a better idea,” Brandt said. He motioned to the door with his thumb and turned his eyes to Cade. Her eyes were still dark and cold, and he suppressed a shiver at the sight of them. “You said you were IDF, right?” he asked.
“Yeah, I was a marksman,” Cade confirmed with a short nod.
“Guard us while we get to the Jeep,” Brandt instructed. “You’re probably a far better shot than either of us.” He motioned between himself and Ethan to emphasize his point and then turned to the older man. “Ethan, you are going to help me get the bags to the Jeep.”
Ethan hesitated, either unwilling to take orders from Brandt or unwilling to allow Cade to take on the more dangerous of the tasks. But he nodded and took the bag the woman held. He slung it over his shoulder, adjusted the strap, and nodded to Cade. The woman gave a cold smirk and slid toward the door almost silently, her rifle up against her shoulder as she eased out the door.
Brandt motioned to Ethan and followed Cade out. He drew his own gun and paused at the top of the porch steps. Cade stayed on the porch, hovering toward the end by the railing to his right, her rifle raised and pointed down the street. Brandt looked down the street to
assess the situation and saw the group of seven making their way undeniably toward them in their disjointed manner of walking. They were only two houses away. Brandt frowned and lifted his gun, aiming it at them and nodding to Ethan.
“Bennett, you first,” Brandt ordered. He waited until the older man got halfway into the street before he turned to Cade. “Wait until I’m at the sidewalk before you follow, okay?”
“Not a problem.”
“And I suppose it goes without saying that if they make any aggressive movements toward us—”
“Take them out,” Cade interrupted in a clipped tone. She flipped the safety on her rifle off. “Got it. Now go.”
Brandt looked Cade over one more time before he headed for the street. He tried to keep his movements slow and steady to reduce the risk that he would be noticed. But his effort was for naught. The seven infected people began to move more quickly in their direction. Brandt swore and gave up trying for stealth. He stopped in the middle of the street and lifted his gun to point it at the group once more.
“Cade! Get moving to the car! Now!” Brandt yelled.
Cade ran, her boots clicking on the pavement as she passed behind him and threw herself into the back seat of the SUV. Ethan was already in the driver’s seat. He started the vehicle’s engine as the infected people reached Brandt’s position in the street.
Brandt bit back a curse and aimed his gun at the nearest one, the blond cheerleader. Her blue-and-white uniform was covered in enough blood to suggest a recent kill. She had the familiar look of hunger and hatred on her face that Brandt had seen so many times in his escape from Atlanta. Brandt squeezed the trigger. A bullet slammed into her forehead and threw her back onto the road.
Brandt’s focus on the cheerleader drew his attention away from the other six for only moments, but it was enough. A tall man in a brown jacket managed to get behind him. He grabbed Brandt’s gun arm and wrenched it backwards. Brandt turned into the attack and planted his foot in the man’s stomach. He pushed the man away and jerked his arm free from his grasp. He followed with an additional kick to the man’s gut to put extra distance between them.
The Becoming Page 10