Saving Humanity Series (Book 2): Edge of Humanity

by Sinclair, Pembroke

  They can’t find out about you. You can’t let them treat you.

  The doctor reached out to grab Caleb’s wrist, but he jerked it away and pushed himself into a sitting position. The action caused black dots to dance in front of his eyes. He blinked to clear his vision.

  The doctor held his hands out in front of his body to show he wasn’t a threat. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I need to see how bad your injuries are.”

  Caleb shook his head. “No. Get away from me.”

  “Sir,” the doctor’s voice was low and calm, but being called “sir” instantly put Caleb on edge. “Please. Let me help you.”

  Caleb knew if he got too worked up and out of hand, they would sedate him. He couldn’t allow this to happen. Then he would be unable to keep his secret a secret. He had to stay calm and reasonable. He took a deep breath.

  “I appreciate you, but I need a minute. Can you give me that?”

  The doctor nodded and lowered his hands. Bandana Girl and Southern Boy edged closer to the bed, their muscles tense, probably ready to pin Caleb down if necessary, but they also relaxed as the doctor did. The tension in the room eased, but Caleb refused to let his guard down.

  “Is it all right if I ask you some questions?” The doctor’s voice was still low and even.

  “Maybe.”

  “I just need to know what happened.”

  Caleb jutted his chin in Bandana Girl and Southern Boy’s direction. “Ask them.”

  The doctor turned his attention to the pair. Southern Boy gestured with his head for the doctor to join him a few steps away, and they spoke in soft tones. Suspicion instantly arose in Caleb. Was he telling the doctor a different story from what he was told in the van? There was no need to be so secretive if Caleb already knew what happened. Bandana Girl stepped closer to Caleb’s bed and offered a small smile. It did little to comfort him. Several moments passed, then the doctor stepped back to Caleb’s side.

  “I can’t force you to get treatment, but it would be beneficial to you if we made sure there are no broken bones or internal bleeding. I would like to hook you up to an IV to rehydrate you and have access in case we need to give you medicine. Is that okay with you?”

  It wasn’t, but Caleb didn’t have much of choice. He needed to regain his strength, get healthy, and keep them from asking too many questions. This was the only way it was going to happen. He glanced from the doctor to Bandana Girl and Southern Boy and back again. With reluctance, he nodded and held out his unbandaged hand.

  “Thank you.” The doctor smiled, then proceeded to clean the back of his hand with an alcohol swab and stabbed the IV unit into his vein.

  A series of questions followed, along with the doctor palpating various parts of Caleb’s body. Every inch of him hurt, with some parts worse than others. The doctor made his way to the bandage on Caleb’s arm.

  “Shall we check how this is healing?”

  Caleb jerked his arm away. “No.”

  The doctor pressed his lips into a thin line, then continued his examination. Caleb’s heart pounded in his chest. This was all too close for comfort. These people may not know his secret, but his actions told them he hid something. It would only be a matter of time before they demanded to know more. Caleb had to get away before they got too curious—but he had to be able to walk to get away. When the doctor finished, he took a deep breath and grabbed both ends of the stethoscope around his neck.

  “Upon my initial, limited examination, it doesn’t appear anything is broken or bleeding internally. To be sure, we’d need some X-rays, but I doubt you’d consent.”

  Caleb shook his head.

  “I figured. I’m pretty sure you have a concussion. There’s a nasty bump on the side of your head.”

  Instinctively, Caleb reached up to the side of his head. The lump felt like a baseball, and he winced as his gentle touch caused pain to radiate through his skull. He lowered his hand back to the bed.

  “With time and rest, you’ll heal. At some point, you’ll need to get cleaned up. We can do some of the cuts now if you’d like.”

  Again, Caleb shook his head.

  “Okay. Well, there’s nothing else you’ll allow me to do for you. I’ll check on you throughout your time here.”

  “How long am I stuck here?”

  “A few days. Your friend will be here for much longer. At this point, I don’t know.”

  Caleb bit his lower lip to keep from telling the doctor Samuel wasn’t his friend or a few days was too long. As soon as his strength returned, he was gone.

  “Okay. Well, I’ll be back later.” He turned and headed across the room to where they treated Samuel. There were so many people around him, Caleb couldn’t tell what they were doing.

  A soft buzzing sounded behind Caleb, and the bed inclined to meet his back. He turned to Bandana Girl, who operated the bed controls.

  “Figured you might as well be comfortable if you’re staying.”

  Caleb wanted to protest, but he didn’t have the energy. Instead, he leaned back into the mattress and sighed.

  CHAPTER 8

  Exhaustion settled over Caleb as he relaxed further into the mattress. Every inch of his body fired with pain brought about—no doubt—by the doctor’s examination. He had been feeling slightly better until the doctor started poking him. He grimaced. If he thought it was safe, he would ask for some painkillers, but he had to keep his senses sharp. The thought made him chuckle inwardly. What did it matter if his senses were sharp, he couldn’t move to do anything. Painkillers might make it so he didn’t care if he moved. Well, assuming he could move at all. He hadn’t exactly walked into this place on his own. His grimace deepened. The sooner he recovered, the sooner he could get away.

  He turned his head to look at Southern Boy and Bandana Girl, who still stood next to his bed. “You should go ask the guy if I can have something for the pain.”

  Southern Boy shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m glad to see you’re finally taking your health seriously. More than likely, you’ll be able to have some Tylenol for that concussion of yours, but the doc is a touch busy at the moment.” He glanced across the room, then back at Caleb. “I’ll ask him in a bit. I’m Venger, by the way, and this is True.” He nodded toward the girl.

  Caleb rolled his eyes and inhaled an irritated breath. The last thing he wanted was to get chummy with these people. The less everyone knew about each other, the better. “I would say it’s nice to meet you, but since you put me in this position, I’m not sure we can be friends.”

  Venger shrugged. “Fair enough. I’m sure it makes no difference to reiterate it was an accident.”

  Caleb cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. “Not really.”

  “I’ve got some things to take care of. True, do you mind keeping our guest company?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be back to check on you later.” He nodded at Caleb, unfolded his arms, and walked off.

  Caleb couldn’t tell if Venger really had stuff to take care of or if he just didn’t like confrontation. He assumed it was the latter. Even in the van when the conversation got a little heated, Venger turned away. Caleb didn’t care. The less interaction they had, the better.

  Caleb watched him pause at the crowd around Samuel. He rose up onto his toes to look over the group, but it must have been to no avail because, after a few moments, he continued on his way. Disappointment settled over Caleb. He probably wasn’t getting any Tylenol any time soon.

  True rolled a stool next to the bed and took a seat. Caleb directed his attention to her. This close, he saw the thin layer of dust covering her from head to toe. She didn’t look much older than he was. Faint lines were etched at the corners of her eyes; telltale signs she had seen her share of zombies. Caleb was sure her bandana covered lines on her forehead. Faint freckles ran across her nose and onto her cheeks. She definitely had a charm about her. It wasn’t the same charm Jan had, but Caleb didn’
t feel threatened in her presence—although he didn’t exactly feel comfortable either. If the situation of how they met had been different, Caleb would probably go out of his way to get to know her better. But, as it was, he needed to keep his distance. Her shoulders slumped as she turned side to side on the rotating stool.

  “I don’t need a babysitter. Thanks to you, I’m not going anywhere.”

  Caleb didn’t see the point in being friendly or kind. He was upset he was in this position, even more upset than he had been in Samuel’s possession. At least with Samuel, Caleb knew what to expect. He knew at some point in time, the opportunity would present itself for him to escape. Now, everything had been shot to hell. He was in terrible shape—and pain—and he had no idea where he was.

  Neither does anyone else. You can disappear. The plan remains the same. Be patient. Be smart. Move when you can.

  “Is that your real name? True? And what about him? Venger seems a bit odd for a given name.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He didn’t want—or need—to know anything about these people.

  True shook her head. “It’s what we call ourselves now. We believe the apocalypse gave us a second chance, so we changed our names and changed our lives.”

  Caleb didn’t hide the grimace on his face. He thought conspiracy freaks were bad, but he might have just met another group of people who could irritate him by doing little. He didn’t want to be so cynical, the thought had its merit: let the past go to live in the present and reinvent the future. He would give anything to forget what he’d gone through and what he lost, but it wasn’t as easy as changing his name. For someone to think it was, they probably weren’t in charge of all their mental faculties. Maybe he could use their diminished compacity to his advantage.

  “Seems a bit fanciful if you ask me. No matter what you do, you can’t get away from your past.”

  “No, you can’t, but it doesn’t have to rule you either. Just because bad things have happened doesn’t mean they decide who we are. Only we get to decide who we are. So, we picked names to reflect the side of us we are most proud of.”

  “So True because …”

  “I’m honest with myself and everyone around me. I’d never lead anyone astray or tell a lie.”

  Caleb pressed his lips together and stared at her skeptically. It seemed awfully simplistic to pick a name for a quality she wanted to portray to others—whether it was true or not. If someone else had named her, he would be more inclined to believe it. But it wasn’t his place to judge.

  He licked his lips. “And Venger?”

  “Short for scavenger; what most of us have been reduced to do to survive.”

  “Is scavenging how you created this place?” It was nice to have some of his suspicions confirmed.

  True nodded. “For the most part. But we’re also not idiots—we have the intelligence and skills to rebuild after almost complete annihilation. We have people with skill sets to ensure our survival.”

  “Like the doctor.”

  The thought wasn’t exactly comforting. Being surrounded by eccentrics might have made it safer for him. He scoffed inwardly. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t safe anywhere.

  True smiled. “Like Doc and his staff. There’s also more of us with different talents than you can imagine.”

  Caleb raised his eyebrows. “What kind of talents?”

  “Engineers, architects, entrepreneurs.”

  “Why not live in the city? Then you wouldn’t have to rebuild. Your talents would still be needed and appreciated.”

  True shrugged. “Not everyone is suited to city life. We hold our own out here just fine.”

  “Where is here?”

  “We call it Sanctuary.”

  Across the room, a loud clattering sounded, pulling Caleb’s attention away from True. With the crowd of people around, he couldn’t tell what happened, but it set off a flurry of activity as people ran in various directions. For a moment, Caleb saw Samuel lying on the bed, his face still covered in blood, an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. People crowded around him again, obscuring him from Caleb’s vision.

  “So, where were the two of you headed?” True’s voice was low.

  “I don’t know.”

  She chuckled. “How could you not know? Surely, you had a plan of what to do. It’s too dangerous out here to go sightseeing.”

  Caleb turned his gaze back to her, his eyes narrowed. The magic of the previous moment was broken, and Caleb raised his defenses. The circumstances dictated he keep a distance, no matter how sweet and kind his host appeared to be.

  “Because I don’t, and the nature of our relationship is none of your business.”

  Her smile faded. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  It occurred to Caleb if he told True he was Samuel’s prisoner, he might be able to persuade her to help him escape. From the few words he’d exchanged with her, her name seemed fitting. Caleb wasn’t the best judge of character, but she seemed incredibly genuine. Of course, he wouldn’t tell her the truth of why he was a prisoner—that could potentially cause more problems.

  And you have plenty of those.

  “It’s complicated,” he said. “All you need to know is when I can leave, I’m going to. Without him.”

  True’s gaze drifted across the room, then back to Caleb. “Okay.”

  Caleb was grateful she didn’t ask any further questions. As much as he tried to keep his defenses up, he found himself feeling less irritated and angry the more he talked to her. There was something about her—something kind and comforting. Once again, he found himself wishing he had met her under different circumstances.

  “Explain to me exactly what happened to put me in this situation.”

  True averted her gaze to her lap and slouched further in her seat. “It’s stupid, really. And I know you don’t believe me.”

  “Just tell me.”

  She sighed and lifted her head to look at him. “I am totally serious when I tell you we were out in the desert playing with a catapult. We’ve been trying to increase the accuracy and distance. We didn’t think anyone would be on the road. No one is anymore. When we saw we’d hit your truck, we freaked.”

  “Why would you be testing a catapult? What could you possibly need it for?”

  She cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips. “It’s complicated. And really none of your business.”

  Caleb lifted his hands and shook his head. He wasn’t going to argue or press for more information. She was right; it wasn’t his business, and he wasn’t going to make it his business. She was kind enough to let him keep some of his secrets, he’d do the same for her.

  “What did you hit us with?”

  “A manhole cover.”

  Caleb’s eyes widened, and his hands fell to the bed.

  True shrugged and averted her gaze back to her lap.

  The pair drifted into silence, and Caleb found himself wondering what her “okay” meant when he told her he was going to leave. He wanted to believe it meant no questions and no attempt to stop him when the time came, but he knew there was little chance they wouldn’t. Now, it didn’t matter anyway. His eyes grew heavy. He needed to rest.

  “Get some rest. Sleep repairs the brain, which is important if you have a concussion.”

  “I thought it was dangerous to sleep with a concussion. Isn’t it possible I’ll never wake up?”

  True shook her head. “That’s not the case anymore. Doc has done a lot of research on this, even before the zombie outbreak, and it’s best to sleep.”

  Caleb wasn’t going to argue with True. He let his eyes drift shut.

  * * * *

  Night had fallen and surrounded Caleb in a gray hue. The full moon cast enough light on the area to make it difficult to hide from the zombies. Caleb was on his stomach under a car. The asphalt was hard and lumpy beneath his flesh, scraping open his elbows, but road rash was the least of his worries. With wide eyes, he watched the feet shuffle by him—t
housands of them all moving too slowly for comfort. He’d never get the chance to get out from under the car at this rate. He’d starve to death or grow old before the creatures left the area. The thought tightened his stomach and made his extremities tingle. After all he’d been through, the last place he wanted to die was cowering under a car.

  Despite Caleb’s desire to get out from under it, he couldn’t move. It felt as if the car pressed down on him, crushing him into the pavement. Even if he could get out, he had nowhere to go. The shambling of feet continued all around him. The pressure increased on Caleb’s back, making it difficult to breathe. Panic gripped his chest. He sucked in shallow, squeaky breaths. His vision blurred.

  No! I have to see what’s coming at me!

  His breathing became rapid. Along with the blurriness, black dots flashed across his vision. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Caleb closed his eyes and willed himself to be calm. His quick breaths were sure to catch the attention of the undead. He couldn’t let the zombies find him. He held his breath for several seconds, then let the air out slowly. He sucked in another breath and held it for a few more seconds. His body relaxed slightly. Tension still tightened his muscles, but the dizziness accompanying his rapid breathing waned. Caleb was on the verge of regaining control of his body when a clicking entered his ears. It was followed by the scrape of denim on asphalt.

  Click! Shhhh!

  Click! Shhhh!

  The sound drew closer. Caleb’s eyes flew open. His breath caught in his throat. The click sounded next to Caleb’s ear. He turned his head. Only a few patches of yellow, weathered skin clung to the gray bone beneath the face inches from him. The eyes were shriveled and sunken into the sockets. The zombie’s jaw opened and closed as it stared through Caleb. With one skeletal hand clicking on the street, the creature pulled itself under the vehicle.

  A scream boiled into Caleb’s throat and stuck. He tried to push himself away from the zombie, but he ran into something solid. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed blackness behind him. It slowly crept up his feet and legs to surround him. Caleb turned his gaze back to the creature. It reached for him, the bony fingers rested on his shoulder. Pain radiated through his flesh as the tips dug deeper. The creature used Caleb as leverage to pull itself closer. Caleb bit his bottom lip to keep from crying out. The copper tang of blood flowed over his tongue.