“Are they giving you anything for the pain?” I asked as I crossed the room again.
Lane didn’t open her eyes. “No. Dr. Shelton said they needed to save the pain meds for the most extreme cases.” She snorted. “I’m guessing it was Heath’s call, though. He wouldn’t want to waste morphine on me.”
“Asshole,” Matt grumbled.
It was strange having him act like one of the good guys, but a nice change as well. Hopefully, it stayed that way.
I almost reminded Lane of the words she’d so thoughtlessly flung at her ex-husband but stopped myself. She probably realized telling Heath that she hoped Anie died slowly and painfully hadn’t helped her cause, and there was no point in rubbing it in. Some lessons had to be learned the hard way.
I continued pacing, my arms crossed and my gaze darting to the door every few seconds. Even though I was now too far away to be able to hear the ticking of the clock, I still imagined it was audible, and I timed my steps with it. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Over and over, one foot in front of the other as the seconds faded away.
When the imaginary sounds were obscured by the very real thud of footsteps in the hall, I stopped moving and spun to face the doorway, and less than a minute later, Ryan appeared, pushing a wheelchair. Rowan was behind him, and she was holding my bag—and her collar was gone.
I rushed toward the door, pausing before stepping over the threshold when I remembered the shock collar. “You’re here!”
“Yup.”
Rowan swallowed, and that was when I registered how red her eyes were. She’d been crying.
“He’s not coming, is he?” I said, although I wasn’t surprised.
Something had broken in her father, but instead of twisting him into a monster like Heath, it had left a hole in his heart that not even his daughter could heal.
Rowan looked away. “He said he can’t.”
I wanted to know if he’d tried to talk her into staying, if he’d been able to conjure any of the paternal feelings he’d once fostered, but I didn’t think now was the time to talk about it. The wounds were still too raw, the disappointment too fresh. Rowan would talk to me about it when she was ready.
“Time to go.” Ryan pushed the wheelchair into the room, heading for the bed.
Matt got to his feet, standing awkwardly as he waited to see what would happen.
While the doctor worked to get Lane ready, I moved to Rowan, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the room so I could wrap my arms around her. “I’m sorry.”
“I am, too,” she said, her voice low and choked with pain. “I risked my life to find him, and he can’t do the same for me?”
I pulled back, keeping my hands on her shoulders. “I wish I could say something to make it better.”
“You can’t.” She looked down like meeting my gaze hurt.
I dropped my hands and turned when Ryan wheeled Lane our way—Matt right behind them. She looked small and slumped, and nothing like the fit woman she’d been just a few days ago.
“I almost forgot,” Ryan said, pausing so he could shove his hand in his pocket.
I expected him to retrieve the remote so he could deactivate our collars, but instead, he pulled out a key and grinned. “Ready for this?”
“Definitely,” I said, lifting my hair so he could access the lock.
It clicked a second later, and the collar fell away. Even though it hadn’t been tight, I still reached up to massage my neck. I’d seen people do the same thing to their wrists after having handcuffs removed hundreds of times in the past—in movies and on television—but I’d never imagined doing it myself, or what a relief it would be to have it gone.
Ryan freed Matt from his collar, who mimicked what I’d just done, then the doctor turned and got to work on Lane. A few seconds later, her collar was gone too, and Ryan tossed all three on the bed before pushing the wheelchair through the door, Matt, Rowan, and I hurrying after him.
It felt as if everyone had gathered in the halls to watch us leave, and while most of them wore neutral expressions, a few people openly glared at Lane as we passed. Ellie was one of them, her mouth scrunched up like she’d been sucking on lemons. Seeing it, Lane lifted her right hand and gave the other woman the finger. Ellie crossed her arms and glared harder.
Matt chuckled, but I reached out and put a hand on Lane’s shoulder.
“Easy,” I whispered. “We aren’t out of here yet.”
The other woman only shrugged.
Outside, a large group had gathered around the same vehicles that had driven to the farm four days ago, only now there were no trailers hooked to them. I’d expected the same small group of people that had gone out with us to make the call, but I wasn’t sure why. Heath was aware how many people we had, so it made sense he’d want to go in strong.
Heath was standing with Michael and Dan beside the open driver’s door of a black truck, and he smiled when he saw us, then raised his hands as if about to make a proclamation.
“The guests of honor!” His focus shifted to Rowan, and he worked his face into a mockingly sympathetic frown. “Did you and your father say your goodbyes?”
“You know we did,” she said.
“I tried to tell you he wouldn’t want to go,” Heath said. “He’s a very loyal man.”
Matt stiffened like the jab had been made at him.
“Not that loyal.” Rowan looked away, blinking rapidly to hold back her tears.
I stepped forward. “Let’s get moving.”
“Always the eager one,” Heath said then waved to the truck. “Load up, and we’ll be on our way. You three ladies in this truck. Mr. Miller, you can climb in the other.”
“See you soon,” Matt said, moving for the open door of the other truck.
Ryan was already helping Lane out of the wheelchair when I moved to her other side. She let out a gasp of pain and winced with nearly every step, but somehow managed to climb into the tall vehicle.
Rowan had gotten in the other side and was now in the middle, and once I’d climbed in after her, I pulled the door shut. Dan was behind the wheel and Heath in the passenger seat, and the rocking of the truck told me someone had climbed in the bed once again, although I didn’t look back to see who it was.
The trucks started moving, driving through the open gate in a line while a few men stood on top of nearby trailers, shooting any of the dead that got too close. We were the second truck to leave the barricade, but driving through wasn’t the relief it should have been. Like back in Lane’s hospital room, the nervous feeling in my stomach had grown, and it only got worse as the seconds ticked by.
It was a quiet drive. Heath smoked just like he had before, and beside me, Rowan didn’t seem to be able to hold still. On the other side of her, Lane had her eyes squeezed shut and her fists clenched. With nothing to take the edge off the pain, the ride had to be killing her.
Rowan shifted when the truck slowed, craning her neck as we turned, her blue eyes searching. I didn’t take my focus off Heath. The way he was sitting there, smoking so casually, his expression not changing no matter what anyone said or did, no matter how many zombies we passed, just wasn’t natural. He was like a statue in a hurricane, unmoved despite the strong winds wreaking havoc on the world around him. The uneasy knot in my stomach pulled tighter. It was the same feeling I got whenever something I couldn’t control came my way, and if anything fit that description, it was Heath. Even worse, I had a strong suspicion he wasn’t going to follow through with his promises.
My gaze still on the back of his head, I reached over and gripped Rowan’s hand. She shifted, and I glanced her way long enough to confirm she was looking at me, then focused on Heath once again.
“Stay alert. Don’t get distracted no matter how excited you are to see Devon. Focus,” I said out of the corner of my mouth, my voice low.
Again, I glanced her way, widening my eyes before moving my gaze to Heath. When I looked back at Rowan, she was nodding. She gave my hand a squeeze to let me kn
ow she understood, and I once again focused on the man in the front. He turned to look at us just then, his mouth twisted into the same smile he always wore, his brown eyes cold. A shudder of revulsion moved through me, but I kept my expression neutral and unaffected. I’d had a lifetime of practice at hiding my emotions, and it had come in handy many times over the years, but never as much as it was now. In this new world of madness, a poker face could keep you alive almost as much as a gun could.
The truck’s tires bumped over a pothole or debris or something else, jarring us, and Lane moaned. She was slumped against the wall and sweat was beaded on her forehead, her eyes shut tight, and I found myself cursing Heath more than ever before—which was saying a lot—for his cruelty.
“Looks like your friends are anxious to get you back,” Heath said, drawing my attention to the front.
Rowan had shifted again, her grip on my hand tightening as she craned her neck. I followed her gaze, and everything in me tightened at the sight of our friends standing beside two trucks. Devon was front and center, flanked by Lisa and Doug, but the others were here as well. Gabe was to their left, a little distance between them, while Ari stood to the right. In the back of one of the trucks, Brian stood with a pair of binoculars hanging around his neck and his gun up, while Rick held an identical stance in the other truck bed. They were clearly on the lookout for zombies, but every pair of eyes shifted to the trucks at our approach.
The truck came to a stop about twenty feet from the other vehicles, but Dan left the engine running. Another truck pulled up beside us only a few seconds later, and I spotted Miller in the back seat. The rest of the vehicles stayed behind us, and I glanced back to find everyone climbing from them. Their guns already up, their expressions as unyielding as they’d been that day at the farm.
“Be ready for anything,” Heath said as he released the magazine from his gun and checked the ammo. Once he’d slapped it back in place, he looked over his shoulder at us. “Stay in the truck.”
As usual, Rowan was quick to react to the demand. “What? Why?”
“Always with the questions,” Heath replied, grinning at her. “Because I’m the one in charge.”
He shoved the door open and hopped out, slamming it behind him without another word. Dan followed, and then the three of us were alone.
Rowan practically stood so she could see out the windshield.
I stayed seated, watching as Heath and Dan met at the front of the truck, joined a second later by Michael and Jose. The old gang was back together. How sweet.
The four men began walking, and Devon did as well, Doug and Lisa with him. They met between the trucks, stopping with only five feet of space between the two groups, and Devon’s lips moved, his head dipping toward the truck to indicate he was asking about us. Since Heath had his back to us, I couldn’t tell if he responded, but he did shake his head. What was going on?
He looked over his shoulder just then, saying something, and a man I didn’t know moved to the truck Miller was in. He opened the back door and motioned toward our group as Matt climbed out, but instead of going over to join them, he said something and waved to us. In response, Heath lifted his gun and aimed it at our truck. This time when Heath said something, Matt didn’t hesitate to join our group.
Devon was glaring when Heath turned back to face him, but after a second he said something else, this time turning his head slightly as if speaking to someone behind him even though his gaze never left Heath. A moment later, Ari went to the truck where he retrieved a black duffle bag, and then he was jogging over.
He tossed it on the ground when he reached the others, and Heath nodded toward it. Dan knelt, unzipped it, and rifled through the contents, standing a second later and nodding. There was a pause, and then Devon was talking again. Another pause, then Heath finally turned to face us and waved.
“We can go,” Rowan said, her voice animated as she turned to Lane. “Can you get the door? Do you think you can climb out?”
Lane opened her eyes. “Yeah.”
She looked horrible, her expression tortured, her hands trembling as she reached for the handle, her features twisting more with every move. Since she’d never be able to do it on her own, and Rowan was stuck in the middle, I threw my own door open and jumped out, hurrying around the back of the truck and making it to Lane just as she started to climb down.
“I’ve got you,” I said, reaching up to help her.
Rowan helped from behind, and between the two of us, we managed to ease Lane from the truck. Once she was down, though, I didn’t let her go, but instead put my arm around her waist.
“Lean into me.”
“I don’t think I have a choice,” she said.
Rowan climbed out of the truck and moved to her other side, but her focus was only half on Lane. She was staring at Devon, who couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“You’re okay?” he called, his question directed at all of us but his focus solely on Rowan.
“Yeah,” she responded.
“Lane’s in a lot of pain,” I said, “but she got the surgery. She should recover.”
“Not sure if I want to at this point,” Lane said then let out another hiss of pain.
Heath watched us approach, his expression calculated, then he turned to face Devon. “Now the rest of the guns.”
“No.” The word was firm and final. “I want them over here first. With me.”
“How stupid do you think I am?” Heath snapped.
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Devon replied. “I think you’re a sadistic asshole, and I don’t trust you. I want them over here, and then you can have your goddamn guns. I’ll gladly hand them over if it means I’ll never have to see you again.”
Heath’s mouth twisted into a sickening smile. “It’s a small world, my friend. There are no guarantees that we won’t bump into one another.”
Devon took one menacing step toward the other man. “You better pray we don’t, because if I ever see your smug face again, I’m going to put a bullet in it.”
“Idle threats,” Heath said, chuckling.
He turned before Devon could respond, his brown eyes studying us for a second.
Then he said, “Kiaya. You can go join your friends.”
“I said all of them,” Devon growled.
Heath turned back to face him. “Too bad you don’t have the upper hand here.”
Devon’s shoulders rose and fell as he sucked in a few deep breaths, giving off the impression he was trying to maintain control. In perfect contrast, Heath looked as composed as ever. No anger, no concern, no hesitation of any kind.
“Kiaya,” he said, “then more weapons. Then your sweet little girlfriend and my whore of an ex-wife can follow. You have my word.”
Devon let out a deep breath then nodded.
“Good.” Heath looked back at me. “Go.”
Instead of obeying, I turned to Rowan and Lane. “What do you think?”
“Go,” Lane gasped. “One of us might as well get out of this.”
“You have to, Kiaya,” Rowan agreed.
I didn’t like it, but I eased my arm from around Lane anyway.
Rowan gripped her tighter as I turned to face Heath, holding his gaze with a steady one of my own. “You better follow through.”
Heath grinned. “What does a man have if he doesn’t have his word?”
“A hell of a lot, depending on the situation,” I replied, my tone as even as his.
At that, he chuckled. “I do like you, Kiaya. It’s a shame I couldn’t find a way to convince you to stay.”
I turned away from him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reply, then crossed the small space separating our group from his.
Devon put his hands on my shoulders when I was standing in front of him, looking me over. “You’re okay?”
“We’re all going to be okay assuming we can get out of this.” I paused, holding his gaze, and in a low voice said, “Don’t trust him, Devon. Even if we surviv
e today, he won’t keep his word.”
“I know.” His gaze moved past me to Heath. “We don’t have any other options, though.”
“I know,” I replied. “You have a gun for me?”
Devon’s gaze was already on Rowan as he reached behind him and pulled a handgun from the waistband of his pants. He handed it off, and I mimicked what I’d seen Heath do as I turned to face the other group, releasing the magazine to verify it was loaded, snapping it back in place, and checking to make sure the safety was off.
Lane was leaning heavily on Rowan, whose gaze was locked with Devon’s. Heath was looking at him as well, and the hair on my scalp prickled at the knowing smile on his face. I couldn’t guess what he was thinking, but it couldn’t be good.
“The rest of the guns,” Heath said.
Devon’s gaze moved from Rowan to Heath, and his frown deepened. Behind him, Ari rushed back to the truck, retrieving yet another duffle bag and jogging over to Heath. Like before, he tossed it on the ground and Dan went through it. The process took only a couple minutes, then he was standing, heading back to the truck.
“It’s all here.”
Heath gave Devon a big smile. “Thanks for cooperating.”
“Rowan,” Devon said, “come here.”
She took one step forward when Heath’s hand lashed out, blocking her way. “I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen.”
Devon’s back stiffened. “You son of a bitch.”
“So much for a man’s word,” I snapped, raising my gun and pointing it at him.
“Like you said,” Heath replied, “there’s a hell of a lot to gain when you don’t keep your word.”
He glanced back, catching Michael’s eye and nodding toward Rowan and Lane. In a second, the two women had been separated, and Heath had a hold of his ex-wife while Michael dragged Rowan farther from us.
“Let her go!” Devon shouted, his gun trained on Michael. Not Heath.
Heath pressed his gun against Lane’s head. “We can still make a deal.”
Far Series | Book 3 | Far From Lost Page 26