“I’m telling you. Others survived.”
I tugged at my hair. “How do you know?”
“Because I’ve seen them.”
“Where? Where have you seen others?” I slid down onto the floor, my back leaning against the kitchen island.
He licked his lips and locked his gaze with mine. “Have you really not seen anyone else since that day?”
I pulled my knees into my chest and wrapped my arms around them. Not the best offensive position, but I could reach my gun quick enough. “No. No one human.”
“Others are out there.”
“Well, if you’ve seen them, why are you on your own?” I unclasped my hands.
Any remaining color drained from his face. He eased himself back into the chair and stared at the floor. “They got them.”
“The Raspers?”
“The what?”
I stood and ran a hand across my jeans brushing them off. “It’s what I call the yellow-skinned shallow breathers.” I leaned my elbows on the island counter.
He nodded. “It fits.”
Great, he liked the name. But I needed answers from him. “What happened?” I took a step toward him, and then froze. I chanted Rule Number One in my head. He had followed me. Stalked me. Broke into my hideout. I couldn’t trust him.
He stood, looking rather dazed. “You know, I think getting shot is catching up to me.”
His words were tense. I did feel bad for causing him pain, but come on, he had to know something. Why wasn’t he answering my questions? Was he lying? I entertained the idea of holding my gun to his head and demand he tell me what was going on, but it’d be a bluff. I wouldn’t be able to kill him without a reason. I knew that for sure.
“I’m going to grab that couch and rest for a few minutes.” He walked out of the kitchen.
“Okay then, be that way,” I whispered to myself. I didn’t need him or his full-of-shit lies. Lies of fictitious survivors. Yeah, he’d made it, but really how many others had?
I used to be safe during the day. Today, I’d lost my last form of protection. The Raspers wouldn’t stop. And now Adam had found my hideout. Who—or what—else would?
I gathered all the bloody gauze pads and tossed them in a plastic bag, then put it by the door. With cardboard and duct tape, I patched the broken window. Not great, but it didn’t matter. I was leaving.
I stowed my first aid supplies, then double-checked my bag, making sure I had everything. I’d used one of my shirts on Adam’s wound. It wouldn’t hurt to get a few more. While clothes were easy to come by, I wanted ones that fit. I took out my flashlight, slung the bag on my shoulder, and walked into the living room. He slept on the couch, his chest rising and falling with soft snores. I shook my head. I had a hard enough time sleeping alone. There was no way I’d sleep if I was with a total stranger.
I went past him, crept up the stairs, and entered the master bedroom, my light casting a shadowy path. The woman who lived here once upon a time had worn my new starved-for-real-food size. The plush, carpeted floor cushioned my steps when I entered the closet. After searching the woman’s vast collection, more T-shirts, jeans, and an extra hoodie went into my already-stuffed bag.
I shifted to the guy’s side of the closet, shoved aside the numerous suits, and found his small stash of comfortable clothes. I swiped a couple of T-shirts and sweatshirts, piling them into my arms, then lifted the hefty bag onto my back as the first ray of light peeked in the window.
Adam was still asleep when I got downstairs and I stood next to the couch, staring at him. A lock of hair had fallen onto his stubbly jaw. I deposited the clothes at his feet and for the briefest of seconds, contemplated waking him. It would be nice to have some company on my trek to—wherever. I had no idea where I was going or if I’d ever see another human again. No, keep the status quo. I shook my head and walked into the kitchen.
I inhaled a granola bar and slugged down a bottle of water for breakfast. It was time, but I had to do one thing first.
My Rules.
I retraced the words, capped the marker, and slid it back in my bag. I ran my finger over Number One. Trust no one.
The conversation with Adam replayed through my mind. Why hadn’t he told me what happened to the people he was with? What did he want from me? And why didn’t he have any supplies? Questions about him swirled around my brain with the force of a hurricane.
I closed my eyes, released a long breath, then moved to the door and unhooked the trip wire. My legs ached to start running and leave him behind, to continue this existence on my own.
Screw him.
I slipped on my sunglasses. Walked outside. Didn’t look back.
3
Well, crap. In my show of bravery—or stupidity—I’d left the bike in the house. I scuffed my boot across the ground, grinding pebbles to dust. If I went back, Adam might wake up. Damn it. I was supposed to be planning prom with my best friend, Sofie, and worrying about exams, not creatures that wanted me dead. Sofie had said Evan was going to ask me to the dance that weekend, but the damned Great Discovery had come first. Now they were both gone.
Visions of Mom, Dad, Sofie, and Evan flashed in my mind. I couldn’t take it anymore. My life had gone to hell and there was no hope I’d get back what I’d lost.
I took off running, tears clouding my vision. Where to, I didn’t know. Just away from here. It took two miles—maybe three—but the waterworks dried up and my insides unclenched. I reduced my pace to a fast walk and surveyed my surroundings.
A hazy mist of fog rolled over the Harden River that undulated to my left and right. An iron girder bridge that had survived the destruction spanned out beneath my feet. Bands of metal crisscrossed up the sides, and a mesh-like support flanked the edges of the paved part.
Wind spiraled through the girders and blew loose strands of my hair into my face. I inhaled the crisp, almost citrus scent of rain. Damn. Another storm. My throat spasmed in short fast hits. I couldn’t hyperventilate. I just needed to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. It was only a storm.
Rainstorms were different than they were before. What had once been mild showers now erupted in explosive thunderstorms. I only had a few minutes before the storm consumed me. A few minutes to get off this massive lightning rod.
I broke into a run and reached the middle of the bridge when a new sound drowned out the storm. The rumble grew louder and louder. Vibrations zipped up my legs. Another earthquake?
My chest burned and my heart skipped a beat. I had to get off this bridge. I ran. Metal pounded under my feet. Faster. Faster. Lightning zapped. A tree cracked. Smoke curled around me. The storm was close. Too close.
The vibrating rumble turned into a metallic grinding noise. I stopped, my feet frozen to the ground. No. Not that noise… But it was the same.
The whistling wind ripped across my ears, whipping my ponytail around behind me. I tried to swallow, but my throat refused to work.
Bugs. Lots of them. I pulled out the Glock.
Rain pelted my face. Just what I needed. A killer combo. Thunderstorms and Bugs.
Where were they? I looked around, but nothing was behind me, so I closed my eyes and focused on the hellacious noise.
They were under the bridge. My feet felt heavy, as if they were stuck in hardening cement, and every step was a chore. I walked to the side of the bridge and looked down.
Hundreds. No, thousands of the creepy Bugs crawled from the river. Some swarmed the white rocks and scuttled up the grass. Others stood still and rubbed their legs together. Fog spun cryptically around them.
Did they know I was here? I took a step back from the edge.
Thunder cracked. Marble-sized pellets of water pummeled my face. Then another noise added to the chaos. This one sounded mechanical. Almost like an engine.
I spun around. I couldn’t see what it was through the frickin’ rain. My stomach burned as if a swarm of hornets were fighting their way out. I swiped the water from my face and ran as fast as I could. But it didn’t seem f
ast enough. The machine noise gained on me from behind and the Bugs crawled up both sides of the bridge’s girders. They were so close.
I aimed my gun and started shooting. For every Bug I hit, three more took its place. They dropped from the girders and landed on the pavement. My gun clicked empty. I pulled another clip from my bag and slammed it home.
I stumbled back. Bugs swarmed before me, the machine noise roared behind me, and thunder boomed above me.
Trapped. On a damn bridge. This was not how I wanted it to end.
“Val! Val! Val!” It took me a second to realize someone was yelling.
Time shifted into slow motion. I spun around. A dirt bike zoomed out of the gray fog and squealed to a stop.
“Get on.”
I clutched Adam’s outstretched arm and swung myself onto the bike behind him. He gunned the engine and directed the bike right at the Bugs. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer.
Bugs filled the road. I aimed the Glock and shot off another round while we tore through them. The bike’s back tire kicked out and we leaned to the right. Adam jerked to the left and kept the bike vertical. I held on to him with one hand and turned back.
The horde of Bugs kept coming, filling the road behind us like a tiny mutant army. I kept shooting. Adam kept driving.
The Glock clicked empty and I couldn’t see any more. I stopped watching behind us and buried my face in Adam’s back. Water dripped into my eyes, my mouth, my clothes, while heat radiated from Adam. His warmth seeped into my chilled core.
Adam cut off the paved road and drove through overgrown fields, the grass slapping at the tires of the bike. He wove a crazy path in what I could only guess was a ploy to lose the Bugs.
I lost track of how long we drove. Adam slowed the bike when we reached an old gas station, so old that the pumps had been removed way before the Great Discovery. But the old sign proclaiming the place as Joe’s stood in all its faded blue-and-red glory.
Adam cut the engine and I hopped off. Spirals of pain shot through my butt and a shiver spread across my skin. Without Adam’s body heat, the wind and rain slashed through my hair and clothes.
He climbed off the bike and before I knew what I was doing, I wrapped my arms around him. My cheeks burst into a swirl of heat. I’d almost died back there. There was no way I could have gotten away from all those Bugs if Adam hadn’t showed up. If he hadn’t saved me.
“Thanks.” I mumbled the word and dropped my arms. I turned and sprinted to the door of Joe’s once-gas-station-turned-body shop, praying it was unlocked. I pushed on the handle and it opened. Hallelujah. I held the door open and Adam walked the dirt bike inside.
His gaze met mine and my body went numb, but not from the cold. I waited for him to say something sarcastic. Instead, he spoke in a voice that made my legs wobbly. “Glad I found you when I did.”
I nodded and swallowed the lump that had wedged itself in my throat. “Me too. Where did you get the bike?”
“Found it in a shed along the way.”
I had to look away from him. Guilt and another feeling—one that warmed my insides—dug at my senses. I turned, shrugged off my backpack, and thanked my stars that I’d convinced Mom to buy me a semi-waterproof one. I set the bag on the grungy, blue-stained counter and looked around.
Besides the counter, the small area held two cracked plastic chairs. A waist-high paneled wall partitioned the space from the work bays where a green car hung suspended on the hoist. A scarred door led out back. Next to the door, a vending machine stood across from what must have passed as the worker’s restroom. It didn’t have a door. Nice.
“Well, it’ll do until the rain lets up. Think they followed us?”
“With the way you were weaving, I hope not. Did you see how many there were?”
Adam shook his head. “Where did they come from?”
“They were crawling out of the river.” I tried to keep my voice out of shrill-worthy decibels, but failed.
Full body shakes hijacked my muscles. I walked back to the counter, and with water-withered fingers, removed a small towel from my bag. After I wiped my face, I offered it to Adam. “Here. I need to change before I freeze to death.” I picked up the bag and went to the doorless bathroom. “Can you turn around?”
A strange look flickered across Adam’s face, but he didn’t say anything. He rubbed the damp towel across his forehead, then turned his back.
I ducked into the tight space. A stained toilet and a blackened sink took up most of the area. I hung my bag on one of the hooks on the wall. A work shirt and a leather jacket hung on the other hooks.
It took me a minute to get my boots off, but I changed as quickly as possible. Here I was changing in front of a virtual stranger when no guy had even seen me in my bra before. When I got to my underwear, I moved as if my life depended on it. Jeans, tee, hoodie. Check. “Okay, I’m ready.”
I zipped up my hoodie and left the confines of the dingy bathroom. Adam turned; his wet clothes clung to him like a second skin. The faint light streaming in through the garage windows highlighted his broad shoulders.
I had to remind myself to breathe. “You didn’t bring the other shirts I gave you? You’ll freeze if you don’t change.”
“No. I kind of forgot them in my hurry to make sure you didn’t ditch me.”
“About that—”
“Don’t worry about it.” He touched his bandage. “I could use another bandage though. This one’s soaked through.”
I nodded and pulled out my first aid kit. “Take your shirt off.”
“You’re not going to cut it off this time?”
When our eyes met, my heartbeat thundered in my ears. “No. But there’s a work shirt in there.” I hooked my finger to the bathroom.
I averted my gaze to the window while he removed his shirt. Rivulets of rain ran down the glass and I tracked the water until a crack of thunder made me jump.
I turned back to Adam. Shirtless Adam.
I closed my gaping mouth and focused. I pulled off his wet bandage. His skin radiated heat, but the wound didn’t look infected. In fact, it looked like it had healed more than it should have. Maybe the original wound hadn’t been that bad. No. I didn’t buy it. I had seen it. Cleaned it. Bandaged it.
I shifted my focus to the dull-but-once-sparkling, emerald-colored car. It was the same shade as Adam’s eyes. That line of thought wasn’t helping to clear my mind. “You’re hot.”
Adam winked and grinned. “Thanks for noticing.”
Heat flared across my face and neck. Had I really said that? Dumb. “I meant, do you have a fever?”
“I don’t think so.”
Moving much slower than I wanted to, I put on a new bandage. A loud clap of thunder shook the building. I jumped and almost landed in his arms.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Fine.” I wasn’t. I didn’t like thunderstorms. Hadn’t since I’d been stuck alone in the basement for three weeks.
“If you say so.” He went into the small restroom and came out buttoning the faded blue shirt with the name Dale embroidered on the pocket. He had the leather jacket draped over his shoulder.
I tried not to stare at how Dale’s shirt defined Adam’s shoulders.
Adam opened the back door. A chain link fence surrounded a dozen rusty vehicles. “After it stops raining, we need to check out these cars.”
The rain blew sideways in the door and he slammed it shut.
“Too bad we can’t get this one down.” I ran my fingers across the lever buttons.
“Since we can’t bring it down, maybe we can go up to it.”
“How? There’s no ladder.”
“Come here. I’ll lift you up.”
What? “No. No way.”
He bent down, grabbed me by my thighs, and lifted me up. And I forgot all about the Raspers and the Bugs. Holy crap, my butt was in front of his face. I knew I was blushing, but thankfully he couldn’t see it. He shifted me so I sat on his
shoulders, his head in front of my… Oh. My. God.
“See if the door’s unlocked.”
I tugged on the driver’s door handle and it clicked open.
“Anything?”
The car was immaculate. Not even a speck of trash. “No. I’m going to pop the trunk.” I flicked the lever and truck unlatched with a whoosh.
Adam tightened his grip on my legs and walked to the back of the car.
I so needed to get down off his shoulders. I held onto the edge and looked in. A flashlight, rope, and a backpack. I took it all.
“Let me down.” I tapped his head.
“What did you get?” He bent down and I crawled off, tugging at my jeans.
“A flashlight, bag, and rope. Here, take the light. I have a couple.”
“Can you hold it for me? I don’t have anywhere to put it.” He held his hands out, palms up.
“Take the bag too.” I gave him the blue backpack.
He unzipped it and dumped the contents. Sheets of paper fluttered to the floor. “Thanks.”
“Are you even armed?”
“No.”
And I had shot him. He had saved my life. Maybe he deserved a chance. An out-of-body-like feeling overcame me. I grabbed my bag, shoved the rope inside, pulled out one of my extra guns, and held it out to him, grip first.
“Thanks.” He took it and tucked it into the back of his jeans.
“Make sure you don’t blow your ass off. I’m so not bandaging that.”
“Good to know.” His face lit up.
I was such a dork. Why had I said something so incredibly stupid?
“Stand back. I’m going to see if I can break into the vending machine.” Adam hit the plexiglass with a hammer-type tool he’d found. It took him a few swings, but he cracked it open. “Here.” He tossed me a bag of peanuts.
I tore it open and inhaled them.
We polished off the chips and candy bars. I stuffed all the crackers in my bag, then pulled out two bottles of water and handed one to Adam. He chugged it down in one gulp, staring at me the entire time. I broke the connection.
Silence surrounded us. I stole another glance out the window.
The Colony Page 3