by Tara Brown
My father wasn't saved by his love for my mother. I was saved by his love for me but he died for it. Love is pain. You just have to decide if it’s worth being in that much pain for someone. To me Miles will always be a safe person and a safe place, but he won’t ever be worth loving the way my mom and dad loved us.
“So did anything happen between you guys?” Sasha flashes me the baby blues, batting her long lashes.
I shrug. “Not really.” I wince. “I mean, apart from him telling me he loved me.”
Her jaw drops as Jamie’s lips turn up into a grin. “Awwwwww.”
Sasha shoves me. “Oh my God.”
I nod. “Then he told my dad to electrocute him to save me. He knew he would die and he said it anyway.”
“Holy shit.” Sasha’s eyebrows draw together. “That's intense. I don't really understand but that's intense.”
“What happened?” Jamie asks, leaning in.
“My dad loved me more.”
They both start to cry, completely confused, as I sit there and explain how it all happened. I peel back the bandage, showing them the bite. Both gasp, cover their mouths, and cry. Lee finds her way into our circle as the truck is emptied. She too cries when she hears the sad story of finding my father. I finish the tale pleading for secrecy, “Please don't ever tell a single soul what happened to me. You and Kyle are the only people who know.”
They all nod, sniffling and agreeing.
Erin and Miles come in, smiling until they see us. Erin scowls. “What happened? Are you guys okay? Who we killing today?”
They snort but Lee and I know she actually means it. Even in her twitterpated state with Miles, she has not softened at all. She will shoot someone in the face again. It’s not a big deal to her.
Lee shakes her head, wiping her nose. “Lou was just telling us how she found her dad and how he saved her.”
Miles tilts his head. “Kyle said a biter got him before the expiry.”
“He saved me from the biter.” I nod, also wiping my face.
Erin offers me a sympathetic smile. “He was probably grateful to be able to save you.”
“Yeah.” I wrap the bandage back on my hand. Kyle and I agreed that telling people I was a biter might be a bad plan. But Sasha, Lee, and Jamie aren’t people to me. They’re sisters.
Miles sighs, looking down. “This whole week has been insane. I swear I’m exhausted in a way I didn't think was possible.”
Erin nods over at Mr. Milson’s cabin. “Mr. M said we could sleep at his place. Us and Kyle and Lee.”
Lee shakes her head. “I’m staying here, if it’s okay with you, Lou.”
I smile wide. “It’s awesome. This can be the fun cabin.”
Lee rolls her eyes. “Mr. Milson only said I could stay there because he thinks Erin’s pretty.”
Miles grins, leaning in to kiss Erin’s cheek. “She is pretty.” They clasp hands and turn, walking out of the cabin as if in their own bubble.
Lee sticks her tongue out. “Blech. I cannot watch that all winter. Hell, no.”
Jamie agrees. “Me either. Let’s not even let them in here.”
We all laugh. It almost seems like they have no idea how lucky they are to have family. But I know they do. We have all lost someone, or everyone, apart from the few of us here. I doubt there is a single person on the planet not touched by this in some horrid way. Some are touched in a way that they can never heal from, like Mr. Milson. Others are touched in a way they never want to think on, like Jamie and Sasha who ran from their parents.
I don't know if there are many who were touched the way I am. I hope not.
Kyle comes to the door, knocking and peeking in. “You guys wanna go to the fire pit at the main lodge for a small meeting? The mayor of Laurel is actually up here. He wants to set some rules and some laws. Create a little order from the chaos. I was thinking maybe one of us should stay with the littles. I can do it.”
I shake my head as Sasha volunteers. “I’ll stay with the girls. I can make some soup. I don't want to hear that fat head go on and on about how lucky we are.” I know it’s also that she doesn't want to run into Kelly or Lance. She wants to forget anything ever happened there.
Jamie shrugs. “I’ll stay too.”
I stand up, wincing at the pain in my hand as I use it. “Okay. I’m coming. Can you shout at the girls and tell them to come inside?”
He nods and steps back out.
“So what’s the deal? Are you guys dating or no?” Lee nudges me as we walk to the door.
“I don't think so. Maybe one day when dating seems like something a person would do. Right now it feels like the last thing I would ever do.”
She rolls her eyes. “Girl, you gotta live. We lived. We made it. We’re lucky. That means we have to celebrate that.” She scoffs. “Besides, he’s one of the last remaining dudes and he’s friggin’ hot. He has abs and that butt, yikes. His smile and those dreamy green eyes are just killer. Plus he’s funny. You don't want that eligible and out there flirting. You want that chained up under the cabin where no greedy-ass hos can get at him.”
I shove her lightly. “Psycho.”
She nods. “I am my sister’s sister, after all.” I can tell she likes him. I don't even know if it bothers me that she does. I just know I like him too. I like that he’s part of the memories I have. I love that he was there when I needed him more than I have ever needed anyone. And maybe one day when the world finds its way back to a sane place, I will love him in return. For now I like him, a lot.
I like that when we get to the road the little girls come rushing past us, shoving him and joking with him. He takes it, taunting them back.
I like that when I walk beside him, he wraps his hand around mine and holds it like it's the most precious thing in the world.
I like that when he kisses my forehead he breathes me in.
And I like that he doesn't rush anything beyond that. He isn’t grabbing or trying to kiss me. He hasn't told me he loves me again, not since the boat. He’s just here, and I think he’s waiting for me to be ready but respecting that I am broken and hollow.
Chapter Sixteen
The fire is huge, warm, and overpowering. The flames flicker across the faces, some familiar but many not.
“We aren’t going to let this get us down. I have had word from the president. A letter came today, by mail. Regular hand-delivered mail. They are recruiting people to be part of the army, rebuilding us. We don't know how badly damaged the rest of the world is, but this is not the time for us to be invaded or worse—conquered.” He is a chubby man with fat cheeks and jowls. He clearly was doing well during the seven days. He doesn't look like he missed a meal. He still looks strong and focused.
Not like the rest of us.
We are a group of about a hundred, huddled in around the huge fire. There isn’t a single face as strong as his. Every one of us looks ragged and exhausted, as if we fought to get to where we are.
“The president also mentioned the rebuild. They’re going to start rebuilding Washington first. If anyone wants to travel there, they are accepting aid.” He clasps his hands together and smiles. “But for me, I’m more worried about the future of Laurel. I want to start clean-up crews and begin reclaiming the town. We have food and shelter down there. Realistically, we will only have a few weeks before the snow starts to fly. That's a reality we have to face. So we may have to wait for the spring before we can resettle down there. I will need body crews though—people who are willing to go back down and help remove the dead before we have sickness as a result of handling the long deceased. My cabin is in the lodge. I will post sign-up sheets outside of the door. Please consider being part of the solution. I will also need volunteers to start up a sheriff’s office here. We need to take back our safety. Martial law is still in effect, so the court system is null and void. Criminals are to be dealt with in a speedy and efficient manner. Nothing is being tolerated as we use this time to gain back control of our cities and recreate our way of livin
g.” His eyes glisten in the firelight, and I swear it seems as if some of the light is coming from the inside.
Kyle leans into me, nodding in the direction of Kelly, Lance, and Jared. “They look awfully familiar.”
I nod against his warm face.
“They started talking and laughing when he mentioned the sheriff’s office.”
My insides tighten as I watch them chat amongst themselves. “That would be terrible.” That's not even the right word for it. Catastrophic, disastrous, and devastating come to mind as more accurate.
“I don't think we should help or sign up for anything just yet. I think we should wait it out and see where everyone else goes first. Just in case.”
I nod again against his warm cheek.
Mr. Milson gives us a disapproving stare. I smile at him, trying to calm his fatherly look as I sit too close to a boy he doesn't know well. His care and concern makes me warm inside.
The mayor continues yammering on, spouting about how the country needs us to tow the line and keep the peace. And then on and on about how important community is now, compared to before. How the evil in us made God punish us. It takes me a second to hear it right, or for it to fully sink in. When it does, my eyes lift, meeting Kyle’s. I imagine my expression matches his grim one. I imagine we are on the same page.
But we are alone in that. Everyone in the crowd agrees with the mayor. He might as well be giving a sermon. Only his words come from a higher power—the president. He wipes his sweaty brow as he finishes. “The president himself says science cannot explain the behavior of the biters, the inflicted. They have deemed it a miracle. So all the naysayers were wrong. The redemption has come and we have been seen as the cleansed, or at the very least, the worthy. We are the worthy who have inherited the earth. The sinners have been taken. The weak have been spared and sent to Heaven, rescued by our father. Only us, the strongest and bravest have survived so we can rebuild the earth in his almighty image.”
I stand as the mayor turns his back on us, addressing the people behind him. Lee and Kyle follow as I slink into the shadows and head for the cabin.
“He’s a liar.” Kyle looks back, annoyed. “He’s using God to justify the actions of some crazy scientists? Why is he lying? To what end?”
“To stop people from ever finding out it was the government who is to blame. It’s easier to say God chose this than to say ‘oh, sorry we screwed up.’ No one would ever follow them or believe them if they knew this whole disaster was because of the government.” I mutter, “I don't even know what to think about that at all. Why’s the mail running so fast? How’s the president getting letters out already? The disaster ended yesterday for God’s sake. Something isn’t right.”
Kyle nods. “Something is fishy, all right. We need to sit back for the next little bit and just watch and see where this goes, and not tell anyone what we know.”
Lee gives me a look. “Should we even tell Sasha and Jamie?”
“No. They’re safe because they don't know. This seems like a bit of a ploy on the government’s side to ensure people don't ask questions. Let’s let them think we’re in the dark. I’ll go tell Miles and Erin.” He leans in, kissing my cheek and walks off past our cabin. My skin tingles where his kiss touched it as we walk inside.
“Dude, for reals? You better like him back as much as he clearly likes you or I am gonna wrestle you for that boy.”
I sigh back at her. “Ever notice how things always happen at the worst time?”
“Yeah, I do.” Lee looks back behind us as we walk up the cabin stairs. “You know, a week ago I got my early acceptance into Stanford?” She scoffs. “I got a scholarship and I didn't even need one. We have a fancy house and big luxury cars, and my entire family has vacation homes, and they laugh over a scotch and a cigar. My dad and my grandpa were so proud when I made the dean’s list every year and was getting scouted by schools for track. They told me to pick any school I wanted but I picked Stanford because it’s where they both went.”
I sigh. We clearly didn’t have the same childhood, but I understand the agony of accepting that the future you had planned is never going to come true. We are never going to be what we had hoped for.
But when we walk inside and the little girls are coloring and laughing, I realize it could all be worse. Life could be more broken than it is. When I turn and look at Lee, I can tell she sees it too. Her eyes mist a little and her lips turn up.
When we go to bed, all of us crammed into beds like sardines in a can, I wait for the sound of everyone sleeping before I pray. “Hi, it’s me Lou again.” I shake my head at my idiocy. “Of course you know that. I just wanted to say thank you. I know there’s not much left of my life or my heart, but I’m grateful for what’s here. I’m grateful for this second chance. And I’m sorry they’re trying to blame you. If I can, I’ll show the world it wasn't you. Please keep watching over Joey and the girls. I know you have been—I can tell. Please don't stop.” I nod, not sure what else to say. It could be a lengthy prayer but I imagine everyone is praying more than they ever were. So I end it there and close my eyes.
When I wake up it’s the first time in days that I don't have to wake and instantly be on the run. I blink and let my eyes come into focus. I’m not scared. I’m not worried. There are so many people up here now, and with the mayor’s suggestion of reinstating laws, the ski hill makes me feel safe. The cabin is mine—ours, and the hill is populated by survivors. I relax into my mattress and sigh. It’s exactly the sort of feeling I have missed the past week and a half.
The sounds of the house start to filter in, girls talking and laughing and music. Actual music. I know it’s Jamie playing it. It’s that frikkin’ Bebe Rexha song, “Can’t Stop Drinking About You.” It’s her favorite song. It makes me smile, listening to pop music in my cabin like we’ve snuck up here for a party. Using the generators still freaks me out, but I keep reminding myself it’s over. We’re free to be noisy again.
A knock at the door startles me but I remind myself everything is under control. “Yeah?”
The knob turns slowly, making me nervous out of instinct. Kyle opens the door, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s eleven. You planning on sleeping all day? ‘Cause if you are, I’ll just go chop wood or something. I don't know how much more I can take of this song on repeat.” He hands me a coffee that looks like I made it.
A smile instantly owns my face. “It’s a girl thing.” I take a sip, savoring the flavor. I am so grateful we found canned milk for coffee. I know eventually it will run out, but for now, it’s awesome.
“I’m aware of that.” The song changes as it ends to Whitaker, “My Own.” He winces. “Oh good, a nice wrist-cutter melody to enhance the suicidal tendencies I have from an hour of the other song.”
I laugh, I can’t even help myself. Hearing him talk, I am stunned I never realized who he was sooner. “You remember when we used to talk on the phone for hours?”
“Yeah.” He folds his arms, with his eyes caught on my smile.
“I liked that, falling asleep talking.” I place the coffee on the bedside table, about to get up.
He shrugs, giving me the grin, the cocky one. “I like this better—talking to you face to face.” He makes my stomach flutter like a thousand butterflies have launched in there.
He steps in closer, dropping to his knees at the side of my bed. He lifts his hand, brushing it against my cheek and leaning in, replacing his hand with his lips. I close my eyes as his face settles against mine, his lips burning my cheeks with their feather touch. I don't even fight the affection. I lean into it. His hands run up my arms, making a trail of fire that tingles up and down me. His fingers knead a little when they get to the tops of my arms, pulling me back slightly. I turn my face, meeting the warmth of his breath. I hold mine, scared of how bad my morning breath is, mixed with the coffee. He doesn't kiss my lips, brushing a second kiss on my cheek, only this time it’s the other one. I feel him pause, smiling against my face. “Sorr
y.” He gets up quickly and walks out before I can say a thing. I know I want him to come back but it dawns on me then that I imagine our first kiss differently. I didn't even know I had imagined it, but now I see it involved brushed teeth and a bra, and possibly even some makeup. In a perfect world it would be under a tree as the snow falls around us.
But no matter what, it won’t be here in my bed where one thing can lead to another. I’ve made that mistake already.
But the feel of his face so close to mine and the smell of him, the way his deodorant and sweat mixes, makes me jump from my bed. I slam back the coffee and drag on clothes and deodorant of my own. I drag a brush through my hair and hurry downstairs to wash up.
He’s not downstairs when I get down there, but the eyes in the room all tell me they noticed he had come upstairs.
“Don't fret, lover boy said he’d be right back.” Sasha glances at the door.
Jamie bats her lashes at me. “He did seem a bit flustered. What’d you do to him?”
I pause, giving the little girls a grin and praying my face isn’t as red as I believe it to be. “He brought me a coffee. That's it.” I carry my toothbrush to the kitchen and brush my teeth in the sink, rinsing my face with the water from the jug.
Jamie gets up, swarming me with mascara and lip gloss and a little perfume. Sasha grabs my hair, pulling it into a messy bun, yanking on my head until I wince.
Joey gets up and tilts her head to the side. “A little blush maybe. She’s still kinda pale.”
My jaw drops but Jamie starts applying. I swat at them. “Stop!”
A knock at the cabin door makes my insides drop. Sasha leans in, smelling near my mouth. She pulls a pack of strawberry gum from her pocket. She holds up one piece. “This is the sacred kissing gum. I only have fifteen packs, so we have to be sparing.” She shoves the piece in my mouth as the little girls all answer the door, grinning away at Kyle. He lifts a hand but I shake my head, not really at him but it looks that way. He lowers his hand, stepping back as I hurry to the door, shoving kids out of the way and avoiding the knowing looks on my friends’ faces. I pretty much force him outside and smile as I close the door. “Sorry. They’re all acting insane. Plague and death don't seem to make them crazy, but apparently a boy does.” I don't even know what I’m saying. He’s suddenly making me nervous in a way I have NEVER been. I could ramble so I press my glossed lips together.