“You were only at your best when you had me on your team,” Victoria said, flashing a smile.
He gave a few slow nods and turned back to his work. “That I was.”
Victoria went to his side, and he slid her a folder as thick as her wrist. She’d have her work cut out for her, but if there was anything she could do to pretend that her time with the Tribe had never happened, she would pursue that option.
She opened the cover and began to read his neat, handwritten notes on the Feline Flu and the vaccine he’d helped to create, which had turned 60 percent of those that had received it into foamers.
* * *
X’s hat was tilted down over his face so it looked like he was sleeping. At the moment he felt like this was his best chance to avoid getting caught in the crossfire between Tiny and Kade.
They were in the first serious fight he had witnessed between them, and they seemed to be arguing over Zack rather than the fact that she had told Kade he would be useless in a stealth penetration of DC. Zack didn’t like Kade because he wasn’t a traditional soldier. And Zack knew Kade would try to find some reason for them to go along. X couldn’t admit it out loud, but he was glad that they were being left behind. Ashton was livid with him already, and the sooner he could get back to make things right, the better. He didn’t want to leave Jem and Mick to die, but if Tiny really thought X would just be in the way, he would stay clear of the operation. It would be impossible to fix things with Ashton if he was dead.
A gentle foot nudged his quad.
“I hate to interrupt your fake sleep, but I need to use the ladies’ room.”
X tilted his hat back. Number Five stood beside him with a military rifle slung across her chest.
“Wouldn’t Tiny be the better pick?”
“I don’t want to get in the middle of that triangle,” Number Five said.
His bladder was full enough, so he jumped on the opportunity. He pulled out his revolver, and he and Number Five went deeper into the trees.
When she stopped, they could hardly see the others.
“You face that way, I’ll face this way,” Number Five said as she undid her pants.
X turned away and kept his pistol at the ready.
Zack’s words echoed back to him now. When they’d lost Drew, Kade and X had been doing the same thing he was doing now.
X loved his .357. It was comfortable. Familiar. He knew its strengths, its limitations. While he stood there, he came to terms with how little he actually could do with a six-shooter. His range was small. He only had six shots.
Though Kade wanted everyone in Houghton to train with rifles, X had always skipped those sessions. He was who he was, and he didn’t want to be turned into a soldier. He was a thief—a damn good thief. Now he wished he had picked up a rifle.
More importantly, he wished he had listened to Ashton and not come in the first place. He could be safely bickering with his gingersnap.
“I’m good,” Number Five said.
X holstered his pistol and drained his bladder.
“Kick some leaves over it,” Number Five said when X finished.
He kicked around the foliage until he covered up his wet spot. Even the woman without a name seemed more suited for this life than he.
“I think this might have been our longest conversation to date,” X said.
“I spent my time in the lab, and you spent your time away,” Number Five replied.
X usually made it a rule not to even look at Number Five if he could help it because he knew if Ashton saw the way he’d look at her, she’d probably gouge his eyes out. Number Five looked like she’d walked out of a centerfold and into their lives.
“I’m in no rush to go back to the forest of awkward silence,” X said.
“Are they always like that?”
“Kade and Tiny have always been volatile. There’s a lot of repression and aggression in their history. This is ugly, though, because Kade never learned to deal with jealousy as a kid because of . . .” X cut himself off before revealing Kade’s Achilles heel.
“His disease. Remember, I spend all my time with his brother.”
“What is going on there?” X asked gingerly.
Number Five shook her head. “I don’t know. I never thought I would care about someone like him. He’s so focused on his data and experiments, I don’t think he sees the world around him.”
“I can’t believe he doesn’t notice you.” X held his arm out like he was presenting her to a crowd.
She let out a laugh. “The exact opposite. I’m a walking experiment.”
“Number Five.”
“That’s all I am to him. I stay close to him because I don’t know where else to go.”
“No other home for you?” X asked.
“I was probably the second most excited person for the end of the world, behind Kade. I used to live in Portugal, but then this young strapping Navy seaman convinced me he loved me. I crossed my family and moved to the States to be with him, but—”
The air was cut by a high-pitched scream. The sound came from back near the road. X and Number Five broke into a run. X’s legs ruffled the leaves as he barreled through the trees. He reached the road and sprinted across it, heading toward the screams.
He crested the far side and stopped in his tracks. The horse trailer was surrounded by five foamers that may have once been a biker gang. They were still wearing most of their riding leather, which seemed fairly intact. Three were large bruisers, one was a sizeable woman, and the last was an emaciated old man. Like all foamers they had come across recently, these were matted with filth, and their fingernails had grown into long claws.
The foamers were taking turns attacking the trailer, each provocation causing terrified whinnies from the horses within. X drew his pistol. Before he could aim, Kade flew past, knocking his hand down.
“Don’t shoot,” Kade called as he hurled himself down the bank. He already had his knuckles and mask on.
X stood dumbfounded as Kade landed on the skinny man, who fell to the ground with a terrible sound of cracking bones. Kade reared back and beat his chest with a loud roar, drawing the focus of the remaining four. They charged at him from all sides.
Kade landed a dazing blow on the first one, then rolled over the creature’s back, booting the foamer to the ground from behind. Jumping back, he dodged the swipe of the next attacker.
“Should we do something?” Number Five asked, arriving beside X.
“He said don’t shoot,” X replied.
Kade grabbed the next swipe and pulled himself toward the foamer, landing his knuckled fist squarely into the monster’s face. One of the large bruisers tackled Kade to the ground.
X holstered his pistol and drew his knife, ready to charge into the fray.
Kade reared his head back and slammed the mask into the bruiser’s face. The creature closed its claws around Kade’s shoulders.
X rushed into the fight, but before he could reach Kade the other bruiser swept him off his feet. The two bodies flew through the air before they crashed down with X on the bottom. The ground drove the air from X’s lungs, but his knife had lodged itself in the creature’s chest. The foamer pulled out the blade and lumbered away into the trees, leaving a red trail behind.
X pushed himself up to his feet, trying to regain his breath. Just as he was feeling ready to rejoin the battle, a foamer launched through the air toward him. His blade came in front of his body on instinct, but he never needed it. Kade crashed into the creature in midair. The two tumbled to the ground and Kade landed on top, but the foamer had his knuckled hand locked up in its grip. Kade pinned the foamer’s free hand with his. The foamer pushed Kade higher off its body, but Kade bucked all his weight up into the air. The creature’s arms folded under the quick change of weight, and Kade torpedoed mask-first into the foamer.
The foamer’s nose cracked under the mask, and the monster lurched forward with a cry of pain and bit down on Kade’s trapezius muscle. Kade ne
ver let out a sound as he repeatedly drove his knee into the creature’s ribs until it let go.
Kade rolled his knuckled hand free from the foamer’s grasp, but not before slicing his wrist on the creature’s claws. He pulled back and landed his knuckled fist on the creature’s throat, causing it to let out a hollow croak. The foamer was still alive, but the only focus it had now was getting enough air.
The first foamer charged at Kade again as Kade tried to put himself away from the second one. X dropped a shoulder into the creature, knocking it against a tree. The foamer let out a howl of pain but was quickly silenced by X’s knife. The body dropped to the ground, and X surveyed the scene. The first foamer Kade had landed on was still writhing like a deer that had been struck by a car. Kade’s final opponent was dragging itself away, still fighting to breathe. The last fully functional foamer showed nothing but its rear as it ran away.
Kade walked to the broken foamer and drew his katana.
“Sorry,” he said as he arched the blade through the air and decapitated the creature.
He wiped off the blade, put the sword away, then tipped his blue mask back onto his forehead. “Thanks for the help.”
“Couldn’t leave you hanging,” X said.
Kade stood amidst the wreckage, his sleeves torn and bloodied, looking like the angel of death.
A slow clap resounded through the trees from the road.
“That was badass,” Zack called down.
Kade and X made returned to the road, where Number Five, Tiny, and Zack were watching.
“That was like watching King Kong versus Godzilla,” Zack added.
“Someone should check on the horses, and we’ll have to move the vehicles,” Tiny said, pushing past Kade.
“I wish YouTube still existed. That would have gone viral,” Zack said. Kade just stared back at him. X laughed at the concept of something going viral. In this world, that had such a different connotation.
“I’ll grab a kit and get you cleaned up,” Number Five said.
X thought Kade looked more alive the closer he was to death.
* * *
John stepped down on the spade, penetrating the ground. He loaded the head and tossed the dirt clear of the hole—the hole that would be a grave.
Since John had joined the group, the only loss they had suffered was Argos the dog. His only interaction with Argos had been his first night, when the dog had been left to guard him. The dog’s death had affected him as a member of Kade’s cohort, but he hadn’t felt it on a personal level.
Scott had spent even less time with the group, but John felt responsible for his loss. Even if it wasn’t John’s sector to watch, he had been on guard duty with a brand-new person when Scott sneaked out. He should have been double-checking Emma’s territory. If he had paid more attention, he could have prevented the kid from dying.
Scott’s death was John’s fault. No matter how many other people had messed up, John had been the final line of defense, and he had failed.
He passed the shovel to Wright, then climbed from the grave. Damian had given the approval to have a ceremony, the first they had ever had for a death, but neither he or Victoria were present.
Emma stood on one side, with Grace across on the other side of the grave. At the head, Ashton had her arms around Meredith and Franklin. Her head hung so low John could only see the part in her hair. Franklin held Bristle tight to his chest.
Wright helped John hoist the sheet-wrapped body of Scott and lower the lifeless form into the grave. The kid looked like a mummy, the sheet was so tightly wrapped, and John felt a chill run down his spine as he considered if Scott would rise to haunt them. The kid would have every reason in the world to torment them. John could practically picture it: the Ghost of Lambian Hall. Scott, with his one good eye, wandering the halls, howling at those who’d failed him. Maybe Scott would get his other eye back when he died. But maybe not, since it wasn’t buried with him. Maybe John could find an eye to put in the grave.
Wright clapped his shoulder and went to the foot of the grave. John knew he wanted to be as far from Ashton as possible. She hadn’t lashed out at him yet, but he knew it was coming. Wright was going to be leading the ceremony, so he didn’t want to be on his side. That left Grace or Emma.
Grace stood tight and upright with her hands behind her back. He couldn’t see any signs of distress in her, but Emma looked like a wreck. Her mascara had made black circles under her eyes, and she hid most of her face behind a white cloth.
Though John wanted to be close to Grace, the extra bit of awkwardness she made him feel wasn’t something he wanted to deal with at a funeral, so he decided to go stand beside Emma.
Wright ran a hand through his shining gray hair before he straightened his black suit coat and vest. Of everyone present, he was the only one dressed properly for a traditional funeral.
“Today we say goodbye to a young soul. A soul that should not have had to leave our world so soon. The soul of a loving and trusting boy who continued to make the best of bad situations,” Wright said.
Emma turned away from the grave, throwing her arms around John and burying her head into his shoulder as she sobbed. John lifted his hands, unsure of where to place them, and after trying a few different spots wrapped them around her waist. He bowed his head and continued to listen to Wright.
“Scott was a fine example of what a person should be. At least now he can transcend into a perfect world. A world without pain. A world where he can be safe. May he rest in peace.”
Classically conditioned, John muttered an amen. When he looked up from the prayer, he found Grace glaring at him in a way he only ever saw Tiny bore into someone. Her baby-blue eyes were wide and bulging like they were going to pop out of her skull.
Wright grabbed a handful of dirt from the pile and sprinkled it over the grave. Grace broke her stare and followed Wright’s lead. Ashton and the kids were next, followed by John and Emma.
The procession continued back to the dorm, leaving John with Wright. John retrieved his spade and cast shovels of dirt over the body. The dirt scattered over the white cloth, slowly burying from sight John’s mistake.
“You don’t have to wait with me,” John said as he kept shoveling.
Wright squatted down, careful not to get any dirt on his nice clothes. “You seem to be having some issues at the moment.”
John hefted another shovel full of dirt into the grave. “My problems don’t seem to be that big of a deal right now.”
“Scott was the type of boy who wouldn’t have wanted you to avoid counsel on pretense,” Wright said.
John looked down at what little of the cloth still shone through and silently asked Scott for his permission to be selfish. “Grace. I’ve been head over heels in love with her since I met her. I’ve even written her poems, but she wants nothing to do with me. Today, when I stood beside Emma, she looked like she wanted to murder me.”
Wright chuckled. “I would never want to trade places with you. You have now learned the number one secret to getting a woman’s attention: stop giving her all of yours.”
“I don’t want to be an ass.” John cared too much about Grace to try to play games for her heart. Mostly he couldn’t imagine there was a game at which he could beat her. She beat him at everything they’d ever played, even checkers. If he tried to win her, he knew he would lose.
“I’m not telling you to do anything you wouldn’t do already, but I’m sure there’s some way you could spend time with Emma normally,” Wright said.
John hauled another load of dirt into the grave. Wright did have a point there. She did need to learn how to shoot. There were plenty of things he could teach Emma, things that Kade would probably put him in charge of if he were here anyhow.
“I’ll let you think on that, but do you mind if I ask a question?” Wright said.
“Sure,” John said, wishing that if Wright was going to continue standing there, he would at least find a way to lend a hand.
“
These creatures you guys call foamers—why aren’t we hunting them? If there is a pack that close to where we live, why don’t we just eradicate them?”
“Kade says we are only supposed to kill them in self-defense. He wants to learn more about them,” John replied.
Wright stood and ran a hand along the right side of his head, smoothing out his hair. “That makes no sense. As a leader, he should be removing the threat. There isn’t a reason to learn from them when we could exterminate them. They’ve just killed a boy. I would call any action we take against them as preemptive.”
“Kade’s orders are Kade’s orders. He’s kept us alive this long.”
“You’re throwing dirt on evidence to the contrary,” Wright said.
John stopped midthrow. The dirt cascaded off the sides of the spade, trickling like sand in an hourglass. The foamers had killed Scott. They could kill again.
Wright waved the conversation away and walked toward the dorm. “I also find it peculiar that Damian, our interim leader, wasn’t present for the boy’s funeral. I’ll need to have a word with that man.”
Tossing the remaining dirt into the hole, John couldn’t stop his mind from wondering if things would have been different had they eliminated the foamer pack. Scott would still be alive. Maybe Kade didn’t know best.
Before the collapse of the United States, the country was constantly trading out leaders to keep progress moving forward. Though he wasn’t of voting age and had never cast a ballot, John decided democracy might not be a bad thing in Houghton.
* * *
Alpha stood over the body of the one like him that had been dumb enough to challenge his leadership. Rearing back, Alpha smashed both fists down on the foamer’s face to make sure he wouldn’t get up again.
Normally he would take a victory feeding from his challenger, but this one had landed a solid set of gashes against his shoulder, and Alpha wanted to get it clean. He walked painfully on all fours toward the creek. He hoped the others wouldn’t be out so that he could wash the wound in peace.
Descending the bank to the creek, he noticed that Pepper was on his flank. It was nice to know there was at least one of his kind that watched his back. With Pepper standing guard, he waded out into the shallow creek and let the water run over his wounds. He winced against the sting of the cold water. Despite the pain, the water felt cool as it washed away not just the blood, but also the matting of dirt on his skin. Climbing out of the water, Alpha dropped his shoulder into the mud, caking the wet dirt over his wounds.
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