by Ariel Bonin
"I love you," Lindsey whispered. "I was afraid I wouldn't get the chance to tell you one more time."
Andrew smiled. "I love you, Linds." He finally registered her appearance and frowned. "Are you okay?"
She saw her shirt, then her arms, and he watched as her face twisted into that of disgust. What she hadn't known was that she was covered head to toe with blood, gore, and mud. The scarlet liquid had caked in her hair and dried. He lifted a strand that had clumped together, and Lindsey glanced at it out of the corner of her eye.
"I'm okay. None of it is mine," she said with a shudder.
All of a sudden, Andrew remembered Jacob and the bottom of his stomach dropped out. It was clear that his son wasn't with the two women, and it took every ounce of his control not to panic.
"Where's Jacob?" he asked carefully, bracing himself for the worst.
Lindsey scowled. "Is Nadie not with you all?"
"No, we haven't seen her. We were hopin' you had," Charlie said.
Lindsey drew a trembling hand to her mouth, her eyes welling up. She released a sob and Andrew clenched his teeth together to keep from losing it. He looked away from her, not focusing on anything in particular, but for the sole purpose of avoiding her heart-wrenching gaze.
"I'm sorry, Andrew! I went inside to get Jacob, and Nadie said she would instead. She said that I needed to warn the others. When I got back, our hallway was empty. Ana and I went outside, hoping to find them there, but all the cars were gone!" Lindsey cried.
Andrew bit the inside of his lip as his vision wavered. A tear escaped down his cheek and, with a short sniffle, he hastily wiped it away with the back of his hand. For one, he couldn't believe that he had left the school while Lindsey was still inside. And two, they had no clue where his son could be. It was almost worse than knowing for sure that he was dead. Andrew didn't want to spend the rest of his life wondering what had happened to him.
Charlie spoke up. "Nadie's a tough lady. If she got Jacob outta there, I'll bet they went back to my ranch. Eric, Caren, and Robert, too."
"I didn't even think of that," Andrew said, actually feeling somewhat hopeful now.
"Your ranch?" Lindsey asked.
Andrew nodded. "If anyone else survived from our group, that's where they'll be."
"We don't have much daylight left. I say we leave first thing in the mornin'," Charlie proposed.
"That's probably our best option. Lindsey and I were on watch last night, so we haven't slept yet. It's a long trip. We'll need to be well rested to deal with whatever crosses our path along the way," Andrew said wearily.
_____
When they arrived at the cabin, everyone started to go inside, but Lindsey laid a hand on Andrew's arm.
"I'm going to wash up by the lake first," she told him, and then wandered down the hill to the water. She set her bag on the shore and began to rummage through it. After finding a bar of soap in one of the side pockets, she dipped it into the shallow water, and the crystal surface became clouded with tiny bubbles. Vigorously, she rubbed the soapy liquid over her bare arms, watching as dark red droplets cascaded down her skin. She heard a crunch on the gravel behind her and reached for her gun.
"Woah, it's just me," Andrew said softly. Lindsey exhaled and shifted away from her weapon. "I didn't think you should be down here by yourself."
Lindsey's lips twitched into a shadow of a smile before she continued scrubbing. Andrew didn't say anything else for a few minutes. At one point, she glanced up and found him watching her. His gaze, while loving, was filled with something else she couldn't put her finger on. Frankly, he looked downright sad. He had every reason to be. A part of Lindsey wondered if he was upset with her. She had been responsible for Jacob, he had trusted her—and she'd screwed up. Tears rimmed her eyes but she blinked them away. Just in case, she splashed some water on her face, not bothering to pat it dry. Next, she pulled an empty plastic bottle from her bag and filled it with water. Leaning forward, she proceeded to pour its contents over her crusty, blood-streaked locks. She removed the cap from a small shampoo bottle and dispensed a quarter-sized dot onto her hand.
As she massaged the shampoo into her hair, she snuck another peek at Andrew. He wasn't looking at her anymore. Instead, he stared out across the lake, his hand fiddling with the grip of his Beretta. He appeared to be deep in thought. Once again, Lindsey wished she could relieve the hurt that plagued him.
When she went to rinse, Andrew was suddenly kneeling beside her.
"Let me help," he murmured as he took the bottle from her hand. She tipped her head at a better angle as he carefully poured the cool liquid at the base of her skull. His fingers threaded through her hair, causing Lindsey to close her eyes on a light sigh at the intimate contact. He squeezed the excess water from her dark blonde mane, and she lifted her head to look at him. Beads of water dropped down her face as they studied one another. Without speaking, Andrew wiped her brow with his fingertips and leaned forward to touch his lips to her forehead.
"Come on, let's get you into some clean clothes," he suggested as he stood and offered her his hand.
When they got inside, Lindsey started to walk toward the back bedroom, but paused.
"You and Zoey should take that room. I can sleep out in the bunkhouse or on the couch."
"You two can share the room. I'll take the couch," Zoey said.
Andrew's eyebrows rose slightly. "I, uh… Are you sure you're okay with that?"
Zoey shrugged one shoulder. "I don't think you should be alone right now, Dad," she replied, swallowing, like she was nervous that her father would get angry at her implication.
Eventually, Andrew nodded. He patted his daughter on the back as he passed by, leading Lindsey to the bedroom. Once inside, she dug through her backpack, seeking a new shirt to replace the gore-riddled one she was currently sporting. After searching the entire bag and finding nothing, she let out a muted curse.
"What is it?"
"The one thing that I am able to save from the school and there isn't a damn shirt for me to wear!" Lindsey grumbled with an exasperated sigh.
"Here, take mine. It may not smell the best, but it's clean," he said as he unbuttoned his plaid shirt and removed the white t-shirt underneath. He reached across the bed and handed her the latter. The plaid shirt he hung on a nearby peg.
Lindsey took in the sight of his bare chest and was ashamed to feel aroused at a time like this. She certainly wouldn't act upon it, but it didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy the view. Turning his back to her to sit on the bed, he began to take off his boots. She took the opportunity to slip out of her shirt and bra, and threw on Andrew's t-shirt, which came down to the middle of her thighs. Then she sat and removed her boots.
After pulling back the covers, she peeled off her filthy pants and chucked them onto the floor. There was a plain comb on the bedside table, and she decided it would probably be a good idea to untangle and braid her hair, that way it wouldn't be a crazy mess after she slept on it. She sat upright in the bed and brushed out her hair, glancing over at Andrew. He slipped under the comforter and rested his cheek on the pillow, releasing a tired breath. She watched his blue gaze travel over her slender form, starting with his shirt, then to her damp hair, and, ultimately, to her sorrowful brown eyes. She finished the long braid and nestled under the blankets, moving closer to Andrew. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her head to rest on his bare chest. The steady beat of his heart and warmth of his skin brought her the comfort she desperately craved.
In that position, the collar of his shirt was right under her chin. He'd said that it didn't smell the best, but she had to disagree. It was a mix between his spicy deodorant, fresh air, and his natural musky scent—it was the smell that reminded her of him. Discreetly, she brought the material to her nose and inhaled. She'd come so close to losing him today. The thought was terrifying. She couldn't imagine not being able to lie next to him, or simply smell his familiar scent anymore.
Lindsey had nev
er been particularly religious, but right then, she said a short prayer. She thanked God for Andrew and Zoey, and for everyone else that had made it out of the school alive. She also asked Him to watch over Jacob and return him to his loving father and sister. She wasn't sure if she was wasting her time, but figured it couldn't hurt to try.
Chapter 18
Andrew stared at the wooden beams on the ceiling as sleep continued to elude him. He thought about the day's events on repeat, exhaling deeply when he realized he'd been holding his breath. Lindsey stirred next to him and he glanced at her sleeping form, only to find that she was actually awake. Their eyes met, and neither of them spoke for a minute as they stared at one another. Finally, Lindsey ended the silence.
"How're you doing?" She shifted her body so she was completely facing him and rubbed his arm—a small gesture that brought him a great deal of comfort.
"I've been better." He wasn't sure where to begin—there was just too much.
"Talk to me, Andy. Let me in. You don't need to deal with this alone," she beseeched, holding his gaze.
"I feel like I've failed Kelly," Andrew confessed, his voice heavy with sadness. "I promised myself that I would keep her and our children alive. When she died, I just couldn't accept it. I'm ashamed to admit this, but I was mad at her for leaving me alone with them. I know she didn't want to die, to leave her babies behind… These kids are all I have left of her. I'd do anything to keep them safe, but I'm finding it's not usually in my control."
Lindsey was quiet next to him. He looked at her and was suddenly worried that maybe he'd offended her in some way. He was never sure how much she wanted to hear about Kelly. She'd always been respectful toward the subject, but sometimes he wondered if she was simply being polite. On occasion, he would feel a very faint curl of jealousy when Lindsey brought up her late husband, but then he'd snap right out of it. The poor guy was dead and Andrew was sleeping with his widowed wife. What was there to be jealous about? Furthermore, if Kelly had survived, he and Lindsey wouldn't have gotten together. Did she think he would be happy to give up their entire relationship if it meant Kelly could come back?
That was essentially what he was questioning as he observed Lindsey's wary expression. Ultimately, when she did speak, he was surprised to learn her qualms were elsewhere.
"I shouldn't have listened to Nadie. Right then I should have grabbed Jacob and gotten the hell out of there," Lindsey mumbled. "My efforts were wasted anyway! Ana and I got halfway to the common room, only to get stopped by turners. I gave up helping Jacob to warn the rest of the group, and I didn't save a single person. Not one."
Andrew understood her anguish and frustration, but didn't want her to feel guilty.
"There was no way we could have predicted how quickly the horde was going to take over the school. You're only human, Lindsey. You did what you thought was right at the time."
"Do you think what I did was wrong?"
He could tell from her appearance that he needed to pick his next words carefully, or else she'd feel even worse than she already did. From the view of a parent, he wanted to tell Lindsey that Jacob had been the right, and only, option—as selfish as that was. But she'd chosen the needs of many over the needs of a few. She'd risked her life to save the people Andrew had taken in. He had to admire her for that.
"Nadie told you to go. She's a grown woman who had children of her own. I'm sure she understood the weight of the situation. I trust that she's taking good care of Jacob—wherever they are."
"And you think that could be Charlie's ranch?"
Andrew shook his head. "I don't know why she'd go anywhere else. About a year ago, we left the ranch. We were raided by some thugs and, to add insult to injury, a horde passed through the next morning. We lost half of our group that day. Nobody thought it was safe to stay, so we moved on. If there was one place for us to meet, that'd be it."
His words hung in the air. They made him realize how much hope he was putting into that plan. Nadie and Jacob had to be there. If they weren't, well…
The dark corners of his mind clawed at him, the same that tore him down after Kelly died. He never wanted to go to that place again. He'd worked so hard to come out of it. Zoey was relying on him to keep it together.
Lindsey brought him back to the present as her hand moved over his hair. She pushed herself up far enough to drop a soft kiss on his cheek. Andrew gave her a slight smile and felt the darkness recede for the time being.
"Close your eyes and try to get some sleep," she whispered.
_____
Sometime close to morning, Lindsey found herself awake again. The room was a shade lighter, which made it easier to see the objects around her. On the bedside table, a photograph of a man and woman smiled at her. It was quite dated, judging from their clothes and the grainy resolution. She imagined they were someone's grandparents, and the same people who had built this cabin with the intention of keeping it in the family.
I wonder where they ended up...
The depressing thought only amplified Lindsey's gloomy mood.
Earlier, she had asked Andrew if he thought she'd made the right decision back at the school, and he'd danced around an answer. It was clear that he didn't agree with her choices. She appreciated that he wouldn't lie just to make her feel better, but, at the same time, she needed him to be honest with her. Even if the truth hurt, it didn't matter—they were all hurting regardless.
Instead of lying in bed, tossing and turning, she decided to just get up. She knew there was more tea in the kitchen and a good cup was exactly what she needed. Zoey was sleeping in the living room, so Lindsey took extra care to be quiet, as not to wake her. As she passed the couch, she heard a tiny whimper, followed by a sniffle.
"Zoey, are you okay?"
Zoey's body stiffened under the blanket. She was probably embarrassed to be discovered crying. Lindsey had almost left Zoey alone for that very reason, but didn't have it in her to just ignore the girl when, clearly, she was upset.
She rolled over and wiped at her eyes. "Can we pretend that you didn't see this?"
"If that's what you want," Lindsey said with a shrug. "But I've been told that I'm a rather good listener."
Zoey took a deep breath. "I've been trying to stay strong for my dad, but I miss Jacob so much," she whispered as the tears continued to fall.
Lindsey's heart broke for her. "I know, honey, but that's not your responsibility. Your father is supposed to take care of you, not the other way around."
"But you didn't see him after my mom died. He wasn't himself. I'm afraid that's going to happen again if we don't find Jacob."
"We'll find him. I know you can handle yourself, but you're still the kid here. I'm not your mom and I'm not married to your father, but I want you to trust me, as the adult, to take care of him. Please don't let that be your burden," Lindsey said, holding her gaze.
Zoey studied her for a moment, and then nodded. She used the sleeve of her shirt to dry the moisture on her face.
Lindsey pushed up from the floor and extended her hand to the girl. "Last time I was here, I think I saw a box of hot chocolate in the kitchen," she said as she pulled Zoey to her feet. "You interested?"
Zoey nodded. "That sounds really good."
Lindsey hadn't known the girl for very long, but Zoey's ever-changing height was not put past her. As they stood next to each other, she was amazed that Zoey was almost as tall as her. The kid was growing up right before her eyes. Pretty soon boys would be knocking down the door to get to her—and she wasn't talking about the dead ones.
"Awesome. Let's see what we can scrounge up for breakfast," Lindsey replied with a smile.
_____
An hour later, everyone was up and loitering around the kitchen. Lindsey and Zoey provided the tea and hot chocolate, but, unfortunately, no coffee. As much as she disliked it, she'd found a container of plain oatmeal to prepare. With some sugar sprinkled on top, though, it wasn't half bad.
Andrew looked exhaust
ed, which didn't surprise her in the least. He ate his food, but it was obvious to Lindsey that he'd had to force it down. She hated seeing him like this and wished there was something she could do to lift his spirits a little.
As they were packing up the car, she thought of one thing that might help. It wasn't anything special, but she decided to give it a shot anyway.
Andrew was about to step into the driver's seat of the sedan, but Lindsey stopped him.
"Hey," she called softly as she rounded the car.
He turned to look at her, his hand resting on the door. Before he could speak, she draped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him tight against her. His arms circled her waist and she felt him sigh into her neck. They ended up staying in that position longer than she expected.
When Andrew finally pulled away, she placed her hands on his bearded cheeks.
"Whatever we find—or don't find—at the ranch, please remember that you have Zoey and you have me. We're all here for you and we care about you," she whispered just loud enough for only him to hear.
"Thank you," Andrew responded before leaning in to give her a quick, yet tender, kiss.
_____
They had only traveled a few miles up the road when Andrew spotted a road block ahead. Even from a distance, bodies were visibly scattered among the wreckage. It was a common sight, but not one he'd been able to get used to. As he steered the car onto the grass, one body in particular captured his interest. He didn't want to take his eyes off the road for too long, but there was something so familiar about the person propped against the side of an overturned SUV. He refocused his attention on the path in front of them, glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure the Ford carrying Darius, Charlie, and Dean was still keeping pace. The truck was not far behind, but abruptly came to a stop, the horn sounding shortly after. Andrew put the car into park and shut it off to conserve on fuel.
"What's going on?" Ana asked from the backseat.