The Becoming: Revelations

by Jessica Meigs

  Cade glanced at the sheets as if she could see the wound in her side through the layers of fabric. “Gray’s been handling this?” she asked in surprise.

  “Well, I helped,” Brandt said lamely. Cade laughed, though she grimaced halfway through. Brandt touched her shoulder, concerned. “Hey, are you okay?”

  Cade sucked in a slow, steadying breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just sore is all. Wasn’t really expecting that to hurt.”

  Brandt rested his hand loosely on top of Cade’s, tracing his thumb over the soft skin covering her knuckles as he let out a wide yawn. He rubbed his eyes, squinting myopically at her, and she grinned at him. “I hate to ask, but I’ve been sleeping in a chair for about three weeks, and—”

  “A chair?” Cade repeated. “Your poor back.”

  “Exactly.” Brandt hesitated and glanced to the open door again, more out of an abundance of nervousness than anything else, and wondered if he should get up to close it. “Do you mind if I sleep up here tonight? I don’t want to accidentally smack you in the side or whatever, but I really can’t take another night in that chair.”

  Cade’s grin widened, and she shuffled sideways to make room for him. “You know, you didn’t have to ask,” she pointed out after she’d settled against the pillows once more.

  “I know, but with my luck, you’d wake up in the middle of the night and freak out and punch me,” Brandt said with a chuckle. He eased back onto the bed with a low groan, feeling his tired muscles relaxing painfully.

  “With your luck? I still might.”

  Chapter 4

  Alicia stepped into the dim hallway and let the door fall closed behind her with a soft click. She smoothed both hands over her wrinkled clothes and tried to finger-comb her tangled hair before giving up and moving to the stairwell door. Dominic Jackson would be waiting for her just inside the stairwell. She always met him there after her lengthy interrogation sessions with Ethan Bennett.

  And once again, Dominic didn’t disappoint. As Alicia pushed the door open and stepped onto the landing, the tall black man stood from his spot on the stairs leading to the seventeenth floor, switching on a flashlight and shining it in her direction, careful not to shine it directly in her face. She eased the door shut behind her, and he gave her a questioning look. “So, how’d it go?”

  “Like normal,” Alicia reported. A wry smile crossed her face. “He still doesn’t remember where the group was headed.” She shoved both hands into her pockets. “I just don’t get it. Out of all the infected people we’ve dealt with, why is he the only one we’ve seen with memory loss?”

  “Do you think he’s lying?” Dominic suggested. They began to descend the stairs together, walking in stride with each other out of unconscious habit.

  “I don’t think so,” Alicia admitted. “He genuinely doesn’t remember. You can tell by how frustrated he gets. He knows they made plans, but he doesn’t remember what those plans were.” She walked with Dominic down another couple of flights before she added, “I learned more about this Cade woman he referenced last week.”

  Dominic looked intrigued. “And what did you find out?”

  “She’s of Israeli descent, former IDF,” Alicia said. She contemplated the information she’d learned. “She’s a sniper.”

  “A sniper,” Dominic repeated. “She could be useful. Not many of those around anymore. Is she any good?”

  “One of the best, as far as I understand,” Alicia said. “Ethan’s description of her skills was impressive, even taking bias into consideration.” She ran a hand through her knotted hair and added, “There’s some question as to whether she’s still alive, though. Remember how, last month, Daniels followed the other four as far as the Tabernacle and said that one of them was carried most of the way?”

  Dominic nodded. “Yeah, I remember. What happened to her?”

  Alicia looked at Dominic, her expression grim in the bluish light from the flashlight. “Ethan says she was shot.”

  “Shot? But Kyle’s orders were to only take down Avi,” he said.

  “No, Kyle’s orders were to take down Avi and leave Evans unharmed. I didn’t care what he did about the others,” Alicia corrected. “I didn’t understand their potential value at the time. Regardless, Ethan says she won’t join us, not willingly.”

  “What makes him say that?” Dominic asked. A hint of curiosity tinged his words.

  “Ethan says Cade is absolutely loyal and devoted to the other members of the group and that as long as they need her, she won’t leave them,” Alicia explained. She stopped on the eighth-floor landing and caught Dominic’s arm, forcing him to a halt, her expression serious. “Also, Ethan says she and Evans are lovers.”

  “Lovers?” Dominic’s curiosity gave way to incredulousness. “How is that even …? I mean, he’s infected!”

  “I know,” Alicia said. “It’s all there in black and white in Dr. Rivers’s files. But they’re definitely lovers. Ethan is absolutely certain of it.”

  “And she’s not infected? At all?”

  Alicia shook her head. “She’s not,” she confirmed. “I think if she’d shown symptoms, it would have been significant enough for Ethan to mention.”

  Dominic dislodged his arm and started down the next flight of stairs. Alicia moved to join him. “Maybe you should just ask him,” he suggested.

  “And risk ruining the illusion?” Alicia smirked. “Please. He’s not even aware he’s being interrogated. I want to keep it that way. It makes him trust me, and that makes him more likely to tell me things I might not get out of him in a straight-up grilling.”

  Dominic opened the door to the sixth floor, motioning for her to step into the hallway beyond with a grand sweep of his arm. “I just never knew so much deviousness could hide behind such a pretty face.”

  Alicia laughed. “The pretty ones are usually the most devious,” she pointed out. As she stepped into the hallway that led toward the sixth-floor lobby and the Overlook beyond it, a young woman approached them at a run. She clutched a large, crumpled paper, and her short blond hair flopped into her face.

  “Alicia, we’ve got it!” she said breathlessly. She jammed the paper into Alicia’s hands, crushing it in her palms. Alicia raised an eyebrow and looked at the paper the woman had given her.

  “What is this, Kimberly?” Alicia asked. She tried in vain to smooth the paper out as Dominic looked over her shoulder. It was a map of Georgia, she realized, scribbled over with multiple handwritings that made it difficult to read. At the edge of the map was a sliver of South Carolina, with a small town circled and several blocks of it shaded in.

  “You remember when you guys brought Mr. Bennett in and he had that bag with all the blood on it with him?” Kimberly said. “We’ve spent the past three weeks sterilizing the bag to hell and back just so we could find out what he was carrying at the time of the attack.”

  Alicia didn’t need to ask why they’d had to sterilize the bag: Dr. Rivers and his assistant Kimberly—the very woman who stood before her—were uninfected. They were also the most important people in the building, because they were tasked with developing a cure for the Michaluk virus. As such, they couldn’t risk getting infected.

  “We’ve found all kinds of stuff in his bag, but this? This is a goldmine of information,” Kimberly explained. “It’s a map of Georgia and part of South Carolina.”

  “Yeah, I gathered that.”

  “With Mr. Bennett’s group’s routes marked out on it,” Kimberly continued. “Including,” she tapped her finger dramatically on the map Alicia still grasped in her hands, “their alternate plan for what to do if they couldn’t get help in Atlanta. Which, if I recall, is something you guys were interested in knowing.”

  Alicia slowly raised her head to look at Kimberly before she shifted her eyes to Dominic. He looked back at her, his dark eyes wide with surprise. “So this means …?”

  “It means we know where Evans is,” Dominic said, his voice just as stunned as hers.

  Chap
ter 5

  The scent of scrambled eggs was the most appealing thing Gray had smelled in three days, he reflected as he came down the stairs near lunchtime. His stomach rumbled its agreement, even as his brain considered whether it was a good thing that the powdered eggs were finally being used. Regardless, they still smelled okay, so Gray headed for the kitchen.

  Gray was surprised to find Brandt at the portable camp stove on the kitchen counter. The older man swore under his breath and jabbed a fork at the watery mound of yellow fluff in the pan. Gray skirted past the man to retrieve a bottle of water from the kitchen table.

  “Actually making some hot food, huh?” Gray observed. He motioned to the camp stove with his water bottle and leaned against the counter to watch. He figured Brandt cooking would provide plenty of entertainment—the last time the Marine tried to cook, the camp stove had gotten the better of him and ended up halfway across the kitchen. “Dare I ask the occasion?”

  “What, a guy has to have an occasion to cook fucking breakfast?” Brandt grumbled. He poked at the eggs again and grimaced. “Maybe I just wanted to be nice and cook some real food.”

  “No way am I going to believe that,” Gray said. “If you were cooking real food, you’d be using real eggs.”

  “Wish we had some of those. At least they’d scramble like they’re supposed to,” Brandt muttered.

  Gray grinned and put his bottle on the counter, wiggling his fingers at Brandt. “Come on, give me the fork. I’ll finish that before you burn something. Like maybe the house, all around our heads.” Brandt made an obnoxious face at Gray and passed the fork over before retreating. Gray turned to the eggs on the stove, picked up the pan, and drained some liquid off. “For starters, you put way too much water in them. You trying to make egg soup?”

  “Okay, Iron Chef,” Brandt said. He grabbed his own bottle of water. “I don’t need a cooking lesson. I need some fucking eggs on a plate so I can take them upstairs to Cade.”

  “Why would Cade need eggs?” Gray asked. “She’s practically …” He trailed off, stiffened, and looked at Brandt in surprise. “Wait, Cade’s awake?”

  “Woke up at about four this morning,” Brandt said nonchalantly. He leaned against the dining table and took a swig of water. “No fever, thank God. Her side is sore, but otherwise, she’s doing okay. She complained about being hungry when I woke up, so I said I’d see what I could do.”

  “And apparently, it’s not much,” Gray joked. He grabbed a plate and started spooning cooked egg onto it. “You don’t have to tell her I finished these. It can be our little secret, okay?”

  “Hey, she already knows I can’t cook for shit,” Brandt pointed out. He took the plate and searched for a clean fork. “She’s probably upstairs saying the Lord’s Prayer in the hope it’ll prevent her from dying after she eats this.”

  Gray laughed and grabbed two more plates. “Remy eat yet?” he asked, offering one to Brandt. The man waved it off.

  “I’m not hungry. And I haven’t seen Remy since this morning.” Brandt glanced at the ceiling. “I think she’s still on the roof.”

  Gray scraped the eggs from one of the plates into a bowl instead and scooped up a fresh bottle of water. “I’ll take her some food, then. Let me know when Cade’s done eating, okay? I want to take a look at her side.”

  Brandt caught Gray by the shoulder as he passed. “Remy isn’t doing too great,” he warned. “She broke down pretty bad last night. I think she’s still hurting over Ethan’s death.”

  Gray frowned and followed Brandt’s gaze to the ceiling, even as a pang of jealousy raced through him. He pushed the feeling aside. “Aren’t we all?” he replied. “Too much shit happened too fast. I don’t think my brain’s caught up yet.” He shifted his eyes to the floor and shrugged. “I still get this weird feeling that Theo’s going to come around the corner any minute and start bitching at us about how shitty we’re eating.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll see what I can do for her, okay? I’m not the world’s greatest at this kind of thing. Knowing me, I’m going to say the wrong thing, and she’s going to punch me.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Brandt assured him. He clapped Gray’s shoulder one more time, nearly jarring the bowl of eggs out of his hands. Then he scooped up Cade’s plate and headed for the stairs. “Speaking of eating right,” he said as Gray followed, “we’re going to head out on a supply run within the next day or so. Those eggs and a few boxes of cereal are all we’ve got left.”

  “When should we go?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe late tomorrow morning? We should check out the downtown area,” Brandt suggested. “We didn’t go that way last time. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something useful there. Now that Cade’s awake, I feel more comfortable leaving her with Remy,” he admitted. “Remy’s so … I don’t know, flighty lately. She’s just not all there. It makes me nervous.”

  Gray started to reply, but hesitated. “You don’t think she’s … suicidal or anything, do you?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure,” Brandt said. “I just know I don’t want her alone on that roof right now.”

  Gray split off from Brandt at the top of the stairs and slipped out onto the roof. The process was awkward with the bowl and bottle of water in his hands, but he managed nonetheless. Once he found his footing, Gray started toward the corner of the roof, where he could see Remy’s small form. She stared out across the overcast scenery, her knees drawn to her chest. Gray approached cautiously.

  “Hey,” he greeted her. He settled onto the roof a few feet from Remy and stretched out his legs. He set the water down beside her and offered her the bowl. “Brought you some eggs.”

  “Are they that powdered shit?” she asked. She kept her dark eyes locked onto the street below them, as if he weren’t there. Gray frowned and nodded, setting the bowl beside her water.

  “Of course,” he said. “But there isn’t much. Brandt’s talking about going out on supply tomorrow.”

  “That’s nice.”

  Gray stared at the woman, confused and a little hurt at her uncaring attitude. But instead of addressing it, Gray remained silent and cast his gaze onto the street alongside hers. Everything was still, no threats in their immediate vicinity. Gray glanced once more at Remy’s silent figure. She’d picked up the bowl of eggs and started to eat, slowly and mechanically, the fork tapping softly against the glass bowl as her hands shook noticeably from too much caffeine.

  “I’m, uh, I’m sorry, Remy,” Gray said.

  “What are you apologizing for? The eggs aren’t that bad,” she replied. Her words were muffled by the bowl as she leaned closer to it in an effort to keep the eggs on her trembling fork.

  “No, not for the eggs,” Gray said in exasperation. “For last month. For being a shit. You know, out on the road.” His cheeks heated as he said the words. “When I found out about you and Ethan.”

  Remy waved her fork at Gray. “Old news. Ancient history. I’m not even worried about it anymore,” she said. She swallowed the egg in her mouth and scooped in another forkful. “Doesn’t matter anymore anyway.” Even past the food in her mouth, Gray heard the bitterness in her voice. He shifted awkwardly on the roof, leaned back against his hands, and tried to decide what to say next.

  “I finally went through Theo’s stuff,” Gray said. He stared at the brick house across the street. It sat in the center of a sea of waist-high grass. “Well, what’s left of it, anyway. He didn’t have much personal stuff in his bag.”

  “At least you have some of his things,” Remy said. “Ethan had all his stuff on him when he went. I don’t even have anything …” Her voice cracked, and she blinked rapidly and looked away. She set the nearly empty bowl on the shingles beside her. Gray loosely wrapped his hand around her wrist and squeezed, leaving his hand there for a moment before forcing himself to let go. Silence hovered between them. Gray simply sat and watched Remy out of the corner of his eye, trying to dredge up a way to continue the conversation.

  “Theo had
stuff in his bag with names on it,” Gray said. “Yours was on something.”

  “Really? What kind of stuff was it?” Remy asked. She discreetly wiped her eyes with her jacket’s cuff.

  “Things he wanted us to have if we outlived him,” Gray said. “Sort of like a will, I guess.” He stood and headed for the window again. “Wait right here. I’ll get yours.”

  Gray ducked back through the window and went to his room. He dug all the way to the bottom of Theo’s bag and pulled out a small box with the word “Remy” written on three sides in his brother’s familiar messy handwriting. Gray’s chest constricted at the sight, but he shook the sensation off and tucked the box under his arm. He hurried back to the roof, hoping Remy hadn’t had the brilliant idea to leave and make him hunt for her. Thankfully, she was right where he’d left her. When he rejoined her, he set the box beside her hand and settled onto the roof once more.

  Remy picked the box up, intrigued, and traced her fingertips over Theo’s handwriting before opening the box. Once she pulled the top free, a smile spread across her face. She lifted a small gun from the box and studied it in the overcast afternoon light. “What is this?” she asked, resting the gun flat in her hand.

  “It’s a Ruger LCP,” Gray said. “I asked Theo to help me find one back in October, because I wanted to give you one for your birthday. We never did find it, but I guess he stumbled across this one and held on to it, maybe for this year instead. It’s good for a backup piece that you can hide on you. It holds six bullets, plus one chambered.”

  “It’s awesome,” Remy said. She set the gun back into the box and wrapped her arms around him. Gray returned the hug, closing his eyes as he held her close. She dropped a kiss onto his cheek and pulled away to examine the gun again. “It’s a cute little gun. I love it.” She retrieved a bullet from the box and squinted at it. A genuine smile spread across her face, something Gray hadn’t seen in what felt like ages.