Revenants Series (Book 2): Remnants

by Elisabeth, Lee

  "What?" I ask, once the laughter dies away.

  He shakes his head. "You don't need that Germ to find the cure."

  "What do you mean?" I ask.

  "I already have the cure, but I lost it. That's why we're out here in the middle of nowhere," he explains. "We're going to find her and take her home where she belongs."

  * * *

  Daniel

  The box truck delivered us safely to a pull-off Allyson identified as being far enough away from the farm to be hidden, but close enough to check things out. By some small miracle, we didn't hit any roadblocks on the way up. And it was all up, just like Allyson warned it would be.

  A small dusting of snow covers the shoulder of the narrow mountain road. If the snow had been any thicker, the truck wouldn't have been able to make it. The three of us climb out of the cab, then walk to the back of the truck and pull the door up, letting the others out.

  "There's a clearing, maybe 100 yards that way," Allyson says, pointing through the woods. "We can stay there tonight. It will give us time to peek around before heading to the main house."

  "Why can’t we go to it tonight?" Emily asks.

  "Wayne and Allyson need to see what's doing before we approach the house," I explain. "They'll come back and let us know how it looks. If all goes well, we'll go first thing tomorrow morning."

  "Okay."

  "It's safer this way. Trust me."

  "Okay," she says again.

  We walk to the clearing and set up camp in under an hour. We're keeping our footprint minimal tonight. We don't build a fire, because we don't want visitors…dead or alive. The cold is uncomfortable, but unavoidable. Wayne and Allyson set out to scope out the farm. The rest of us huddle close, trying to keep warm.

  It's 8:30 in the evening.

  "It's so cold," Chloe says. I can hear her teeth chattering.

  "We can all pile up in the tent tonight," I say. "The body heat will help keep us warm."

  "Cozy," Erek jokes.

  "We'll put the kids in the smallest partition. Chloe and Emily can sleep on either side of them," I continue. "They'll have the hardest time staying warm, but the extra body heat might help."

  Emily stands. "I'm going to take them inside. They've had a long day." She looks at Kate. "Come on, Kate. Let's get you and Jax settled in."

  The young girl nods and motions for her brother to follow her into the tent. He goes without protest.

  "I’ll help you," I offer.

  Emily smiles. "Thanks."

  "I'll take first watch," Erek says.

  "Me too," Chloe says. "I can't sleep yet, anyway."

  "It'll be cold, Princess."

  "Can't be any colder than your shoulder," she retorts.

  That shuts him up.

  I laugh and follow Emily into the tent. I hope we have enough blankets to keep Kate and Jax warm tonight. I also hope this is the last night we find ourselves outside, sleeping beneath a winter mountain sky.

  * * *

  Allyson

  It takes us 45 minutes to walk to the edge of the farm. We approach the house from the paved road; traveling through the woods would be safer, but the wooded areas this close to the farm are peppered with landmines Aiden set to protect the property. I stop at a large tree a few yards from the gated drive. It's as close as I dare to go. I listen for a minute, but everything is still...even the night creatures are silent. The house seems to wave at me…Welcome home, Alli. I shiver.

  "Seems pretty quiet," Wayne says.

  I look at Wayne, then back at the house. It's dark as pitch tonight, but I can still see the outline of the wooden house perched on the hill, large and foreboding. It's painted a cheerful yellow, but in the dark, it looks gray and frightening.

  "It's too quiet," I whisper.

  "Where's the welcoming party?"

  I shake my head, confused. "I don't know. There should be two guards at the gate," I say.

  "Could they be between shifts?"

  I shake my head. "The gate is never left unguarded. Ever."

  Our breath comes out in puffs of white smoke. It's cold. I shiver again and pull my jacket tighter around me.

  "Cold?"

  I nod.

  "Guess that was a dumb question," he says, giving me a lopsided grin.

  I smile. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

  He laughs. "Can you make it a little longer? I wanna look around some more."

  I nod. "I've survived worse."

  "Gonna clue me in?" he asks.

  "Not tonight."

  "Sometime?"

  "I don’t want to talk about Aiden," I say.

  He raises an eyebrow.

  'What?" I ask.

  He shrugs. "Nothing. You've just never said a name before. Was he your man?" he asks.

  My pulse quickens. "I don't want to talk about him," I say.

  Wayne nods and starts walking toward the barn. I follow, my stomach churning. How could I have been so stupid? Everyone knows the Devil always appears when you say his name.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Daniel

  The kids are asleep. I hear them snoring softly in the smaller partition of the large tent. Emily crawls out and over to where I'm lying under my own pile of blankets. She slides under them quickly and presses her warm body against mine.

  "What are you thinking about?" she asks.

  "You," I lie, because I feel like that's what she wants to hear.

  After a moment of silence, she says, "We both know that's not true."

  I look at her. Her piercing blue eyes stare back at me, as if saying you think you're clever, but I see all the things you try to hide. I could punch myself. Any man left alive would count themselves lucky to be lying beside a woman as beautiful as Emily, so why do I feel like I'm losing? The answer is simple...Emily is gorgeous, but she's not Meredith, so she'll never be pretty enough.

  "I've been the other woman for a long time, Daniel," she says evenly. "If I can handle it coming from my husband, I think I can handle it coming from a guy I didn't know existed two weeks ago."

  "Emily, I'm sorry."

  She doesn't blink. "Don't be. Just be honest, okay?"

  "Okay."

  "So, what were you thinking about?" she asks again.

  "Meredith," I admit.

  "I thought so." Emily lays her head on my shoulder. "Tell me about her."

  “I don’t know.”

  “What don’t you know?”

  “I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” I say. “It seems wrong to talk about another woman to the one I’m holding in my arms.”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”

  I shrug. "Okay…she's pretty. She has dark hair, and green eyes and freckles."

  "Really? That's it?"

  "What? I described her," I say.

  "No, you just described the barista at your favorite coffee joint. Not a woman you claim to love," she says.

  "How should I describe her, then?"

  "Describe her the way you see her," she says.

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "Her hair is a deep copper color…like an old penny...and it curls up when it's hot or humid outside. She's always pulling it back, because she hates it when it falls in her eyes." I sigh. "Those eyes...they're these amazing, smart green eyes that seem to notice everything, but never reveal anything." I pause before adding, "I really miss her."

  "Now that sounds like a man describing the woman he loves," Emily says when I'm finished.

  "Yeah, well...she's also ridiculously complicated. Everything she ever told me was a lie."

  "Why did she lie?"

  "I'm not even sure anymore."

  We lay there for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of slumber coming from the partition beside us. Kate mumbles something low and garbled, something that sounds like watermelon, but I can't imagine why she'd be dreaming about watermelons in December, so I must have been mistaken.

  "I know what it feels like to want so
meone you can't have," Emily whispers.

  I look down at the top of her head. I can just make out the outline of her straight nose, and smooth cheek in the darkness. It's difficult to imagine someone like Emily wanting something and not getting it.

  "Landon?" I ask.

  "No." She rests her chin on my chest. "His name was Oakland. He was a musician...if it had strings, he played it." She smiles, remembering. "He had this wild shock of black hair, and the bluest eyes I've ever seen. He had a Boston accent. We shared a few classes at the university. Somehow, we managed to fall in love."

  "What happened?"

  She laughs bitterly. "What do you think happened? Landon's father was too rich, and Oakland was too poor, so I broke his heart...just like a good daughter." Fresh tears wet her eyes. "He never forgave me for it."

  "It’s not an easy thing to forgive."

  She shakes her head and wipes a tear from her cheek. "No. Nevertheless, he's not here now."

  "No."

  "And Meredith isn't, either."

  "No," I say again.

  She leans closer. "But we are."

  She kisses me then, firmly and desperately, like she's been holding her breath for years and this kiss is the only air she could find. Her hand finds its way under my shirt. I pull away from her kiss long enough to whisper, "What about the kids?"

  "What about them?"

  "They might hear us," I say, glancing at the flimsy fabric separating the two partitions.

  "I can be quiet if you can."

  She climbs on top of me, covering my mouth with her own as she does. My lips burn from the intensity of her kiss, and I bury my hands in her long, blonde hair as it falls around me like a canopy...shutting everything else out...creating a safe place for the two of us.

  A place we can hide.

  A place we can pretend we never fell in love with people who didn't love us back.

  * * *

  Chloe

  Erek is leaning against an old, gnarly tree; his rifle is beside him, ready, should the need present itself. I'm amazed at how relaxed he looks, even when logic says he shouldn't be. I suppose that's what military training does, though...it prepares you to be prepared for anything.

  I wish I could be more like that.

  I stand beside him, with my hands shoved deep inside my coat pockets, saying nothing. He doesn't give any indication that he's in the mood to chat, or maybe it's because it's me standing here, and not one of the guys. Yes, that's probably it...he just doesn't want to chat with me. A small animal moves in the branches above our heads, and somewhere, farther away, I hear the snap of branches under what sounds like footsteps.

  "It's kind of scary out here with no fire," I say.

  "I guess," he says.

  I pull my toboggan down over my ears. "It reminds me of the days y'all were gone and I couldn't get the fire started." I shiver. "I was so scared."

  "You needed the fear."

  I roll my eyes. "Yeah, yeah...I know. I only learn my lessons the hard way."

  "You get the prize, Princess."

  "The worst part was thinking I might never see any of you again," I admit.

  He snorts. "Your luck's not that good."

  "I wouldn't count myself very lucky if I lost my family...even if one is a total grouch."

  He doesn't respond, but I wish he would. Whether it's loneliness or love, I don't know, but I want to hear his voice...with its smooth, deep cadence that works its way through every part of my body...so I keep talking.

  "What scares you, Erek?" I ask.

  He cuts his eyes at me. "Come again?"

  I kick the tree, trying to shake the cold from my legs. "What scares you?" I repeat. "You know...in life? In general? Anything."

  "What's this? Therapy hour?"

  "Come on, Erek. You can't be as tough as you pretend to be." I make a show of looking around us. "It's just you and me out here. It can be our secret. So, what is it? Spiders? Bears? Scary monsters under the bed?"

  "Do Revs count as monsters?"

  "If they can fit under your bed, and they scare you, then sure."

  He doesn't answer. I shrug, deflated. Another failed attempt at conversation. Another disappointment to add to the many disappointments I've collected since meeting Erek.

  "I'll leave you alone," I say, turning to leave.

  "Chloe, wait."

  "Yes?"

  He stares into the darkness. "I guess I'm scared of not being good enough," he says.

  "Good enough for what?" I ask.

  He shrugs. "I don't know. Anything. Everything." He laughs. " Keeping all you crazy people safe."

  I smile. "Maybe you're afraid to admit you care about us."

  "You're probably right," he says quietly.

  I nod. "I usually am."

  He raises an eyebrow. "That so, Princess?"

  I roll my eyes. "When are you going to stop calling me that?"

  "What? Princess?"

  "Yeah," I say, making a face.

  "You don't like it?" he asks with a smirk.

  I shake my head. "Not at all. You make it sound like an insult."

  He smiles. "Nah, not an insult. It's what I used to call my sister. She was a spoiled brat....a total diva," he says. His smile slips a little. "I miss her."

  "I'm sorry, Erek."

  We stand in silence for a few minutes, me and this wounded soldier who's lonely even though he's surrounded by people who care about him. I wish I could ease that loneliness. I wish I could hold him...tell him everything will be okay, and that we'll see our loved ones again...but I can't, and he probably wouldn't appreciate it anyway.

  So, I don't.

  He continues staring into the woods, missing nothing with those grey eyes of his, while I try my best to remain quiet until I can't stand the silence any longer.

  "So, I remind you of your sister. That's a good thing, right?" I say.

  "Not for me," he says quietly.

  "Why not?" I ask, confused. “I thought you said you missed her.”

  He looks at me but doesn't speak.

  "What?" I ask.

  He rolls his eyes. "Come on, Chloe. Are you gonna make me say it?"

  I finally realize what he's trying to tell me. Maybe what he's been trying to tell me, but I've been too stuck inside my own head to notice. My pulse quickens. I never imagined Erek might still have feelings for me. I just thought I annoyed him. Made him angry. Made him wish he hadn't survived the Apocalypse all these months.

  "Me?" I ask softly, in case I misunderstood him.

  He pushes off the tree and takes a step toward me.

  "Erek."

  "Chloe?" He's directly in front of me now, pulling me toward him. We're standing so close I can smell the heat rising from his cold skin.

  "But..."

  "But?" he asks.

  "But you were going to leave me," I remind him.

  He shakes his head. "I just hoped you might eventually choose staying with me over going to Asheville."

  "Erek, I..."

  He presses his lips softly against mine. They're smooth and warm, and the stubble of his beard tickles my skin. My heart is pounding, like it's screaming finally! and I can't believe this is really happening! all at the same time. He runs his thumb across my cheek, while his other hand rests on my waist. I never imagined his calloused hands could feel so soft.

  "Is this okay?" he whispers against my lips.

  I don't speak, afraid I might break the spell. Instead, I wrap my arms around his neck, providing my answer without using words. His tongue parts my lips and slips inside my mouth. He tastes like I always imagined he would; confident and strong. My entire body awakens under his touch...like nothing before this kiss ever existed or measured up. I kiss him like I'll never see him again, because we've wasted so much time already. I won't waste another second.

  "I want you," I whisper in between kisses.

  He groans. "Chloe, don't."

  "Don't what?"

  "Don't tempt me."
He kisses me again. "You're worth waiting for," he says when he breaks for air.

  "I don't want to wait. I want you now...all of you."

  “Out here in the woods? You’ll freeze to death,” he says with a smile.

  “I don’t feel cold right now,” I insist.

  He rests his forehead against mine. "Not tonight," he says.

  "When?"

  The corner of his mouth lifts into a smile. "Soon."

  I sigh, frustrated. When Erek makes his mind up, there's no changing it. I kiss him again, thinking this is what a kiss is supposed to feel like...and feeling guilty because I'm also comparing his kiss to Scott's, and for all I know the man I spent the last five years wanting to marry is dead, and all I can think about is how much better Erek's lips feel on mine than his ever did.

  I'll worry about the guilt tomorrow. Right now, I just want to remember what it feels like to be a normal girl excited about normal things....like first kisses and falling in love.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Meredith

  The leader of this rag-tag band of survivors resembles the stereotypical villain Hollywood directors loved to cast back when movies still existed. He could be any of them, with his slicked-back black hair and lethal blue eyes. His entire right arm is a black and grey tattoo where skin should be, and his left knuckles sport letters from a language I don't recognize. He's attractive, but it's in that I could just as easily kill you as kiss you kind of way, so it doesn't do much for me.

  The men in the group seem afraid of him, but also a little enthralled, which indicates some sort of cult-like mentality. What he did to become their leader, I've no idea...although I doubt it was anything good, or sincere. An uneasy feeling works its way through my stomach. Cult situations never end well...not for the members, or their captives.

  I take a moment to look around, trying to get my bearings. Details, large and small, can be the very things that save your life. It's a large group; only men, maybe 15 or 20 of them. They're taking a break right now, spooning something that looks like watered-down broth into their mouths. They're all thin, with each of them wearing the same protruding cheekbones and sunken eyes. Whereas they look frail, the leader appears to be in fine health, with broad shoulders and lean muscles, and watchful eyes that seem very curious about me.