The Break Free Series Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Fitch, E. M.

  ~

  "Can you believe they're all already taken?" Samantha remarked under her breath. Her arms were bare despite the freezing air, and red up to her elbows. Wisps of honey brown hair escaped from the wool hat that was pushed high on her brow. She huffed as she leant over the giant bucket of steaming water, exhaling forcefully. Her friend, Jan, stirred her own barrel, nearby. Nearly sixty yet with wiry muscle that showed in cords down her arm as she lifted dripping clothes from the barrel.

  Neither acted as though Kaylee existed.

  "A fat lot it would have done for me, even if they weren't," Jan said, mopping her brow with her bare forearm. "Too young.”

  "Yeah, well not for me," Samantha sniffed.

  "Sure, but now Marco's back in play," Jan said, grinning at her friend. Kaylee noticed a few holes where teeth should have been.

  Samantha laughed. "Poor Marco, didn't see that coming, did he?”

  "Here you go, kiddo," Jan said. She dropped a paddle full of clean and dripping wet laundry down at the table Kaylee was working on. The younger girl murmured her thanks and started to separate the pieces. The air was cold and the laundry would freeze in clumps if she didn't hurry. It felt good at first, the warmth of the clean clothing on her cold skin. But it cooled quickly, the air drying her hands and arms, leaving cracks in the skin that looked as though they would start to bleed at any moment. Emma would not have been well-suited to this position.

  Kaylee was loathe to realize that she was. She was young and strong and could wring the water out without tiring, longer than either of the two other women with whom she worked. But she wished she was with her sister and Jack, being less useful, but infinitely more comfortable, both in body and in mind.

  The women she was paired with were gossips, the worst kind. They talked about her and her friends as though Kaylee wasn't even there. They didn't ask questions, try to get to know her, instead it was as though the arrival of Kaylee and the rest was a new chapter in an unfolding mini drama, the next episode of whatever soap opera was running through their brains.

  The only up side was that Kaylee was learning a lot about the camp, stuff that they didn't include during orientation.

  Apparently, Marco was considered quite the catch. It had seriously annoyed some of the women when Emma arrived and diverted his attention. Kaylee would have to remember to ask her sister about that.

  Miranda, one of the Council, had been seen sneaking around after curfew, or so they said. Apparently she had been going in the direction of one of the married cabins. "Coincidently," Samantha had stage-whispered behind her hand, winking, "Nicolas's old lady, you remember Mandi?”

  "No!" Jan gasped, covering her mouth with one weathered hand.

  "Oh yeah, the one they threw out of here just last week? Miranda was fooling around with Nick and his wife gets caught out past curfew. Go figure, right?”

  "That gets you thrown out?" Kaylee interrupted. Both women turned to her, seeming almost surprised to see her there.

  "Didn't you read the rules?" Jan asked, staring over at Kaylee as though she was missing a part of her brain.

  "Well, yeah-“

  "It's pretty black and white," Samantha added harshly. "I mean, it's right there!”

  Both women laughed and Kaylee put her head back down, focusing on a bulky sweater. She took an armful of the clothing she had wrung already and walked the short distance to an empty cabin. It had probably once been a dorm, it was long and there were scuff marks on the floor where beds could have gone. There were no bunks now though, just long lines of rope strung end to end. Half of this was filled with drying clothes. In the summer, it would be no problem to let the clothes hang dry. But with the temperature dipping the way it was, better solutions had to be found.

  Kaylee left the pile of rung clothing on the table at the entrance way, moving first to the wood burning stove in the center of the room. She threw a few logs on the fire, poking the coals around to settle them in, before moving the laundry hanging closest to the heat down a bit on the lines. When she had finished hanging the new clothing, there was a new visitor outside. Kaylee only recognized him as someone she had seen walking to work with Jack and Emma. But there was something about him, she saw now, that was very familiar.

  Patrick had his head close to the two women, both of whom had their ears to him, listening intently. Jan nodded as he pulled away. He flashed a brief smile towards Kaylee as she came closer, but never stopped. Samantha didn't speak until he was swallowed up by the distant pines.

  "He's right, you know," she started conversationally. "I've been saying it for months.”

  "Then he should have taken that Council seat when it was offered," Jan sniffed. "He didn't and now he gets his back all up any time something doesn't go his way.”

  "You've said it too!" Samantha argued, slopping a new bundle of clothing in Jan's barrel. "They're too strict! And too many people who piss them off get caught. Mandi, for one.”

  "They keep us safe. And I'm not about to test them.”

  "But, if they didn’t..."

  "Well, yeah, maybe then," Jan allowed, murmuring thoughtfully over the steam. "If they didn’t."

  "And that outbreak? Just a few days ago?" Samantha pressed. Kaylee stiffened. "Did you feel safe then?”

  "No. I didn’t."

  "Well, then," Samantha sniffed. Jan didn't respond and not another word was said until she threw another twisted pile of clothes on Kaylee's work bench.

  "When you're done with that, you can quit," she said. Both she and Samantha flipped their empty buckets over and Kaylee was left alone with a pile of sopping clothes in a circle of muddy, steaming earth and new piece of information about the New North America.

  Patrick was dangerous.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emma picked up the family photo, worn and dirty, the front of it peeling back at the corners. She had a sudden and desperate urge to see her father's face again, his whole and smiling face as he stared at her mother. Kaylee had a family picture, one of the four of them, all smiling in the bright sunlight. But that was lost with the motorhome. And the rest were lost in the rubble of her first home in the city.

  Nicole's children stared up at Emma from the tattered picture in her hand, smiling, completely unaware that the world had fallen apart.

  Because they were dead. Just like their mother.

  Emma had volunteered to help clean out the women's dorms. It seemed like the least she could do. Miranda and Carla from the Council were there, along with two other women. They all wore face masks and protective gloves. Emma hated it, not just breathing her own dispelled air, the fug it caused inside of the mask and the stickiness she felt on her skin from the humidity of it all; but the pretense, as though she didn't cause this, as though she even could get infected like the rest of them could. But she wore the mask anyway, not for her, but to fool them.

  "Keep the mementos," Miranda called out, pacing between two beds. "But let's toss everything else.”

  Emma wrapped Nicole's bedding up and tossed it in the burn pile. There would be a large bonfire tonight.

  "So," one of the women said, sidling up to Emma. She cringed back as the woman leant forward. "You're married? You know, you could have mentioned something before you let Marco get all hot and bothered.

  "That's enough, Jenny," Carla chastised. "This isn't a normal work detail, but we're here to work regardless, not gossip.”

  The woman named Jenny sniffed under her mask but turned away regardless. Emma locked eyes with Carla and then realized that a smile would be lost in the mask anyway. She dropped her eyes and started pulling the clothing from Nicole's bedside drawers.

  She hadn't spoken to Marco since Andrew and the rest showed up. That first day, she was too busy, showing them around and reveling in the fact of their survival. Today she had volunteered, as soon as Carla asked for help at breakfast, to clean out the girl's dorms. It was only right that she should. But she would have to see Marco soon. There weren't so many people
in the camp that she could hide from him. And truthfully, she didn't want to. She may not be able to care for him in the way Jenny thinks she should. But he was kind. He was good to her and Jack before anyone else was. He was her friend.

  Not that any of that mattered now, not when Emma was packing away the belongings of the girl she killed.

  I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

  It was a litany in her head, a repetitive begging for forgiveness as she tossed her clothes to be burned, placed a pocket knife to be cleaned for redistribution. Nothing would be wasted. Nothing but the life Emma stole.

  I'm sorry.

  Marco cornered Emma on her way out of the dorms. She had a pile of linen to burn in her arms. She dumped it in a nearby pile of goods to be destroyed.

  "You never mentioned you were married," he said, surprising her. He didn't seem angry, but there was a trace of hurt. She jumped as he kicked away from the exterior of the building.

  "Oh," she stuttered, clearing her throat. "Yes, I know.”

  She winced as he stared down at her in confusion. "But, you are? Right? Because the Council doesn't mess around. There was this couple once, said they were married but really they were cousins. They just wanted a nicer place to-“

  "No, we're not cousins," Emma interrupted. She smiled quickly before it melted from her face. The mask was hanging around her neck. Even with the cold air smacking into her sweat-damp skin, she felt confined by it. She pulled it up and over her hand, tossing it in the ever growing burn pile. "We're married. It's just... I thought he was dead.”

  She didn't have to say any more. Marco stopped her with a look, a mix of pity and resignation. "It's okay. You don't have to explain yourself. It's just, I thought you were young, too young for... Well, obviously I was wrong.”

  He walked her to lunch with forced smiles and polite talk. Andrew joined them a few minutes later and Marco invented some excuse to leave.

  "Excuse me," Marco murmured.

  "It's fine," Andrew returned, ignoring the accidental shouldering he got as Marco got up to clear his lunch tray. Andrew glanced at Emma out of the corner of his eye, already his lips were twitching. He didn't speak until Marco was safely out of hearing range. "It seems I'm not the only one.”

  "You're being absurd," Emma muttered, pushing her food around her tin plate with her utensil pocketknife.

  "I better get a ring on you fast," he continued, smirking over at her.

  "Don't you dare!"

  ~

  It was just as Emma had feared.

  Andrew was everywhere. That, in and of itself, was a relief. He was alive, gloriously alive, whole and unhurt.

  But she wasn't. She was infected, tainted. And he refused to respect that.

  He brushed up against her often. Every accidental touch had her joints locked, her very skin stiffening. She tried not to mind. It was so unreal, having him and Kaylee and Anna back. At first, the strangest thing was all the conversation. It had been so quiet with Jack. And they still had their moments, moments when Jack would say something completely random and Emma would pick it right up, responding as though they were mid conversation. She caught the perplexed looks the rest of their group shot at the two of them but they had both shrugged in tandem.

  It really wasn't so weird. She and Jack were more alike than she had realized.

  So, at first, it was just strange to be dragged into conversation so often. She and Jack had caught each other's eye at one point, a private smile blooming as Kaylee and Anna spoke in a constant stream about the group from which they had escaped. Andrew was close to her then, his arm brushing hers, and it did feel so wonderful to be touched, after so many weeks with Jack, that she didn't back away.

  Kaylee held her hand often, put her arm around her, but kept it brief and innocent, no where near Emma's mouth. Andrew however, he pushed it. Pushed it to a point that frightened Emma.

  Because she knew he wanted more. And she knew he could never have it.

  It was a cold morning. It had snowed again overnight. The drifts weren't high, less than a foot, but they blanketed the ground without break, a constant sea of white. Emma was taking a day off from her normal work detail to run a few errands for the medical team. Well, for Anna really. And mostly just to get away from the looks she was receiving from both Andrew and Marco. She felt like she was under glass. Which would have been better, because at least then she'd have something protecting the outside world from her.

  Anna had given her a list of plants to look for. Most were edible, some were medicinal. She knew a lot of them from her time in the forest, both with Jack and with the whole group. She also knew that most of them would be dead by now, or shriveled. She was sure Anna was asking for her help not because she needed it, but because she knew how much Emma needed the time away. Anna was good like that.

  Emma didn't want to come back empty handed though. She had hope that she would be able to find willow bark at least. The trickiest part would be identifying the varied plant. There were so many species and they all looked different.

  Still, looking for it would get her away from the tension, away from the constant brush of people.

  The woods were silent and still, the air hushed. There was the occasional call of songbirds who had not yet left for the winter to seek warmer climates. Emma found her eyes following them through the gray sky, watching as they lit from the branches, scattering the settled snow in clumps as they did.

  She had taken a short cut through a small wooded patch. She could see the corner of the men's dorm just ahead. It appeared similar to the women's dorms, as most of the buildings in the camp did, a long cabin with rows of beds. Emma assumed this just from the shape of the building to her left. She had never been inside, never even been this far from the town square before. It was centrally located in the camp, far enough away from the perimeter that Emma would have had no need to stroll passed, but not near to any of the facilities she would use either.

  She thought that maybe the men had a better situation, farther away from the main square as they were. It was always loud outside the women's dorms, meals being started and people milling around. Out here, tucked into a patch of woods, it would be quiet and restful.

  Though, at the moment, there was one noise that Emma couldn't place. In the stillness of the snow covered trees, the noise was distinct, though under the shuffle of people, Emma felt it would have been soft. It sounded wet and sloppy, like a child chewing with their mouth open. Emma wasn't sure she should even bother checking. Whoever it was, whatever they were doing, it was quiet, if gross.

  It was the blood that caught her eye.

  The red was bright on the white snow. It drew her eye through the trees. It was confusing though, not just that there was blood at all, but the matted, black feathers that surrounded it.

  A bird, something small, had been killed. It was strange because really, who would kill a single bird? They were small, not much meat, it was hard to justify killing just the one bird. It wasn't a random animal, even from where she stood she could see the scuffled but undoubtedly human footprints that surrounded the tiny bird remains. That was undoubtably what it was, the blood and mangled remains of a single songbird. It was sad, the lonely sight of the feathers surrounding the small blotch of blood.

  Was that what our world had come to? Emma thought sadly. Killing songbirds one by one for food?

  They weren't that bad off. She frowned. The slurping noise shifted, accompanied by a low growl. Every muscle in Emma's body tensed and she dropped the cloth sack she had been bringing for bark clippings. She knew what the noise was.

  Instinctively, she stepped back. The crunch of her boots through the crust of snow sounded unnaturally loud now.

  The growling picked up again and Emma recognized it for what it was, the ripping of air through an infected chest. The slurping sound she knew too, flesh being chewed, whatever body, human or animal, it found being ingested. Her stomach roiled and she sucked in a deep breath. The air was saturated with a
cold tint of coppery blood. She turned to run.

  There was a man behind her. She didn't know his name. Blood coat his lips and dripped from his chin, landing in splotches on the clean snow. The whites of his eyes were already jaundicing, only pales streaks of white still visible. He was newly turned. His hands shook as he lunged forward. A snarl ripped through his chest and Emma tensed.

  There was growling from behind her too, from the infected person by the dorm. She had a moment, just a breath in time, to decide. Should she run for help? Back to the camp? Or lead them away and risk them catching her? In that moment, it was Andrew's face she saw, his disapproving expression, and she dodged out of the way just in time for the two infected men to collide.

  She raced back over the path she had taken that morning. She hadn't passed anyone on her way into the woods, she could only hope to be so lucky on her way back out. The men stumbled behind her, a shambled gait that was clumsy but fast. As she ran, she reached into her jacket for the knife she had with her. It wasn't large, nothing more than her small pocketknife for shearing tender bark from the willow trees.

  It would have to be enough.

  As she got closer to the square, she started yelling. Most of the people would out of the square by now. Breakfast was over. But someone would hear her. Someone had to hear her.

  The air was cold as she sucked it into her lungs, her chest burning from her short burst of exertion. Sweat dampened her forehead and she forced her screams louder, half formed hopes that Marco or Andrew, even Harris would appear out of nowhere to put down the infected behind her. What she was not prepared for was her sister.

  Kaylee appeared like a beacon in the center of the square, a gun held in her lowered hand.

  "Get down!" she shouted, raising the pistol. Emma listened instantly, flinging her body face first into the snow. The sound of the shot rang in her ears and a body hit the ground behind her, the thud sending a tremble over the earth and through the fallen snow. Emma flipped over in time to see the second man stumbling over the body of his dead fellow. He tripped, falling head first into her prone form.