The Oklahoma Wastelands Series Box Set | Books 1-3

by Mary, Kate L.

I started telling them all about Logan and Beth’s group of immune people, as well as about meeting Jim and being on the American Queen, glossing over our time in the weird cult. It was the abridged version of what had happened, but we could tell them the rest later. After we were home and settled back into life.

  “It’s a long story,” I said, “and we’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

  “Can’t wait.” Blake was still shaking his head like he couldn’t believe any of it.

  “You see Bill?” Cade asked.

  “We did,” Kellan told him, “and I think he’s going to be ready to come back to the shelter today.”

  “Man, you should have seen us that day. It was insane. Intense. I didn’t know what to do. Part of me wanted to drive after you, but he was bleeding. Then I discovered our tires had been slit.” Blake blew out a long, tense breath. “I’ve never felt so helpless.”

  “I can’t imagine,” Kellan said.

  He focused on something behind Blake, and I followed his gaze, spotting the others coming out of the market.

  I waved to them, urging them to come over. “There are our new friends.”

  Cade turned, lifting his hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun. “Is he a dwarf?”

  “Yup,” I said.

  “He also happens to be one of the smartest people I’ve ever met,” Kellan added.

  “And he knew Angus James,” I piped in.

  Blake let out a low whistle. “Can’t wait to meet him.”

  I couldn’t wait to get back to the shelter.

  It was a few hours before we were ready to go. We got Bill loaded into the back of the station wagon, and Jessica joined him. Kellan drove our car, with Beth, Logan, and Gideon crowded into the back seat, while Cade drove the other vehicle. Brady sat shotgun, leaving the back for Ava, Blake, and Christine. They seemed to have grown even closer during this whole ordeal, and I could practically see the sparks between them flying.

  I’d never appreciated Oklahoma as much as I did on the drive back to the shelter. The barren landscape flew by as Kellan drove, brown and almost blinding in its brightness but suddenly more beautiful than it had ever seemed before. The road in front of us, nearly buried by the sandy Oklahoma dirt, was cracked and peppered with holes from years of neglect, weeds pushing through the fissures, but to me, the bright spots of green looked different than they had before. Where once they had been a symbol of waste, they now looked more like a promise. A promise that no matter how desolate and horrible things got, life would go on. They’d survived even amidst the crushing drought, beating the odds and flourishing in places where no life should exist.

  Kellan put his hand on my knee, giving it a squeeze, and I turned to look at him, returning his easy smile. It was an expression I hadn’t seen in months, not since before Harper showed up at our shelter, and it helped the last little bit of unease melt away. In less than an hour, we’d be home. Finally.

  I love you, he mouthed, making my smile grow.

  “I love you.” I knew he’d never be able to hear me over the roar of the wind, but I said it anyway.

  When the fence surrounding our underground shelter finally came into view, I shifted in my seat, leaning forward so I could get a better look at it. It was still damaged and in need of repair—something I hadn’t even remembered while on the road—but even so, the sight of it made me break out into a smile. There had been times over the last week when I’d thought this moment would never come. When I’d been certain we’d never make it back to Oklahoma. Now, seeing the small cement building made my heart soar. We were home.

  I hopped out when Kellan slowed to a stop in front of the gate, putting the combination in by memory so I could pull it open. Kellan shot me a smile as he drove by. The goats bleated and rushed to get out of the way, but the noise was drowned out a moment later when Cade pulled through the gate. Once both cars were in, I dragged the gate shut, redoing the lock so no one could get in without having to work at it. By the time I turned, everyone was already climbing out of the vehicles.

  Kellan stood beside the station wagon waiting for me, a grin lighting up his face. His eyes held mine as I headed his way, both of us smiling. I felt lighter than a feather. Felt like skipping. Felt like jumping for joy. It was the most magical moment of my life.

  I was still staring at Kellan when his expression changed, shock coming over his face first, followed quickly by anger. He was looking behind me.

  My heart jumped to my throat, and all my earlier worries came rushing back in a typhoon of emotion. I spun around, not quite sure what to expect but knowing whatever it was couldn’t be good. What I saw turned me to stone.

  No. It couldn’t be.

  27

  Andrew stood in front of me, his arms around Emma and the barrel of a gun pressed against her temple. I blinked, expecting the image to change, but it didn’t. He was still here, still alive, and holding my best friend captive. How? I’d seen the bite. Not just the blood, but the actual bite. It had been high on his body, his neck, meaning he should have died quickly. The closer the bite was to the brain, the faster the infection took effect. Yet he was here, and he didn’t even look sick.

  “Let her go,” Cade growled from behind me.

  I looked back, still trying to reconcile what was happening. He had his gun up and pointed at Andrew, and he wasn’t alone. Blake and Kellan and Logan had weapons out, too. Behind them, Christine and Jessica were working to get Bill back in the station wagon while Brady and Beth were urging Ava and Gideon to take cover.

  “You’re outnumbered,” Kellan said.

  “True,” Andrew replied, “but you have to understand one thing. I don’t give a shit if I die today, not as long as I take as many of you assholes with me as possible.”

  He had Emma securely in front of him, blocking most of his body from view, but when he shifted, I saw something that made me do a double take. There was a bite on his right arm, close to his elbow, but it wasn’t recent. It was scabbed over and nearly healed. Like it was weeks old.

  When I looked him over, I saw others, only these were much older than even that one. Scars in various shades dotted his arms, and when he shifted and I caught a glimpse of his stomach through his ripped shirt, I spotted more.

  Andrew was immune.

  No wonder he’d survived even when all his men died. No wonder he had no problem transporting the dead. He knew if things went south and he was bitten, it wouldn’t matter. At least not to him, and he’d already proven time and time again that he held no regard for human life as long as he survived.

  “You’re immune,” I said, drawing everyone’s attention to me.

  The men in my group still had their guns up, and Beth had moved to their side, even though she was only armed with a knife. They were all staring at me, but it only took a second for their attention to turn to Andrew.

  “Son of a bitch,” Kellan muttered.

  Andrew chuckled. “I have to hand it to you, using my own zombies to ambush me was brilliant. And it should have worked. Too bad you got sloppy and didn’t stick around to make sure I actually died.”

  He shifted, tightening his grip on Emma, and she whined.

  Cade took a step forward, his gun still up. “I swear to God, I will make you suffer if you hurt her.”

  “Again,” Andrew said, “you’re missing the point.”

  He turned the gun before any of us could react, and a crack shattered the silence, echoing through the air. Someone cried out. Emma screamed. The goats bleated, and a cry of utter agony followed, and before I could even get a look around and figure out what had happened, the barrel was once again pointed at Emma’s head.

  “No!”

  I spun at the sound of Logan’s voice, my heart pounding, my body shaking, and dread pooling in my stomach.

  Beth was on the ground, and Logan was at her side, his hands on her chest, barely covering the red spot on her shirt. Her eyes were open, staring up at the sky, but they were blank. Lifeless. />
  “Beth,” I gasped, a sob shaking my body. “No. Oh, God, no!”

  I tried to rush to Logan’s side, but I didn’t make it. Kellan grabbed me before I could get there and dragged me back, away from my dead friend and toward the car.

  “Stop,” I shouted, fighting him. “Let me go. Kellan, let me go!”

  He said nothing, and he didn’t release me, not even after he had me on the ground, the station wagon hiding me from view.

  I didn’t stop fighting.

  “I won’t let you go,” he said, his lips pressed to my ear. “I won’t lose you. Not again.”

  “Kellan,” I sobbed. “Beth. She’s—” I couldn’t get the words out.

  “Dead,” he whispered. “I know. There’s nothing we can do. Not now.”

  “You son of a bitch,” I heard Logan scream.

  From our position, I could see him. Saw when he got up, his gun aimed at Andrew. His face red. His expression tortured. He was going to shoot, I realized. He didn’t care if he hit Emma in the process, he was too angry, too heartbroken. Too out of his mind with grief to think about anything else.

  “No!” I screamed, fighting harder.

  Kellan’s arms tightened around me.

  Logan didn’t get far. A second gunshot rang through the air, and his body jerked back. The gun fell from his hand, and his arms dropped to his sides, then his body went down. He landed on his stomach, dust puffing up around him when he did. His face was turned our way, and like Beth, his eyes were empty. Lifeless. The hole on his forehead was so small, barely bleeding, but it had hit the mark.

  “No,” I cried harder. “No.”

  “Shhh,” Kellan said against the side of my head. “Shhh.”

  “Who’s next?” Andrew called.

  Emma’s scream echoed through the air, and I jerked against Kellan’s embrace. I couldn’t see anything, but the agony in that sound was enough to tell me something bad was happening. But what? What was Andrew doing to her?

  “Let me go,” I growled. “I have to see.”

  “Stop!” Cade shouted.

  “Stay there,” Emma sobbed, and the sound of her voice made me cry harder. She was alive, but she was in pain. I could hear it.

  “I’ll keep cutting her,” Andrew said.

  Emma cried out again.

  “I’ll take one piece at a time until she bleeds out. It will be slow and painful.” Andrew paused, and Emma’s shriek filled the silence. “I can do this all day.”

  “What do you want?” Cade called.

  “Regan.”

  At the sound of my name, my entire body jerked.

  Emma screamed again, and I fought harder, but Kellan wouldn’t let go. He was behind me, his arms wrapped around me and holding me tight, and no matter which way I twisted, no matter how much I yelled for him to let go, he wouldn’t. Emma was crying, screaming, begging. Cade was shouting obscenities. Even Blake was yelling now. Every sound slammed into me until I felt like it would crush me. I had to get free. I had to get to her.

  “Nooooo!” I screamed, the word ringing in my ears as I slammed my elbow down as hard as I could.

  Kellan let out a sound I’d never heard him make before, but I couldn’t focus on him because I was already getting to my feet, already had my gun up.

  Emma came into view. Her arms and stomach were streaked in red from the slashes Andrew had cut into her skin, her clothes saturated in it. He still had the barrel of his gun against her head, and in his other hand was a knife. It was the hand the zombie had bitten, and where his pinkie should have been was nothing but a gnarled little stump.

  He wasn’t looking at me. He was focused on Cade and Blake, who were still standing, still aiming their weapons at him. They were shouting, making so much racket that no one noticed me. No one.

  This was my chance.

  I took one step to the right, my gun up, my focus on Andrew’s leg. It was the only part of his body I could get a good shot at because Emma was blocking the rest of him. He was cutting her again, running the blade of his knife down her chest, over her right breast. She was screaming, and her face was streaked in tears.

  I took aim and pulled the trigger.

  The gunshot cut through every other sound, and a split second later, the bullet ripped into Andrew’s calf. He dropped the knife, crying out, and Emma fell from his grasp. Andrew went down, writhing, and I ran toward him, my gun still up but my finger not on the trigger. I didn’t need the gun. Didn’t want it. A bullet would have been too fast, too easy. This asshole needed to suffer.

  I was five feet away when he saw me, but it was too late. He’d dropped his gun when he fell, too distracted by the pain in his leg. Andrew scrambled for it, but it didn’t matter. The tips of his fingers had just brushed the barrel when I kicked it aside. It went flying, hitting the cement building. I kicked again, this time my focus on the man in front of me, and the toe of my boot made contact with his stomach. He curled into the impact, and I brought my leg back again. This time I got him in the balls.

  He let out a groan and curled into a ball, his other injuries forgotten for the moment, and with him distracted, I made my move. I swiped the knife up off the ground and pounced, bringing the blade down on his arm. He screamed, and a second one followed when I stabbed him again, this time in the side. Over and over, I pulled the knife free only to bring it down again, each time crying out so by the time I was done, my voice was hoarse and my throat raw.

  When he’d finally stopped moving, I stumbled back, sitting beside the motionless man as I gasped for breath. Beads of sweat ran down my face, my neck, my back. I felt spent, exhausted, and I couldn’t move, couldn’t even take my eyes off him. He was still breathing, but the rise and fall of his chest was slow and faint. His body was riddled with bloody holes—how many I didn’t know. I couldn’t even begin to guess how many times I’d stabbed him, and I didn’t care. All I cared about was that no one else I loved would die at the hands of this man.

  Sobbing drew my attention, and I turned to find a bloody Emma wrapped in Cade’s arms. Her shoulders heaved, and every inch of her was streaked in red. She was looking at me, and what I saw in her expression brought tears to my eyes.

  “I came out to feed the goats,” she said between tears. “I just wanted to feed the goats. But he was here. Somehow, he’d gotten inside the fence, and he was waiting. He had me before I even knew he was here, and he put a gun to my head.”

  I started sobbing, too, and before long I was crying too hard to focus on anything. Not on Andrew, not on Emma, not on any of the people standing around me. The world was a blur.

  “Hey.”

  Kellan’s arms wrapped around me, and I pressed my face against his chest, letting all the hurt and pain out in gasping sobs. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his arms in a grip that had to hurt, but he didn’t tell me to stop. All he did was whisper that I was okay, that everything would be all right now.

  Eventually, Kellan helped me to my feet and down the stairs. The comfort I’d thought I would feel at returning to the shelter had been washed away by what had happened on the surface, by the knowledge that Beth and Logan were both dead, that Emma was hurt and would no doubt carry those scars for the rest of her life.

  I couldn’t stop sobbing.

  Somehow, I found myself in my condo, undressed, hair dripping from a shower, and then I was lying in bed with Kellan, still crying as he held me. I’d wanted so badly for this moment to be a happy one, but in light of what had just happened, I wasn’t sure it could be.

  I woke still in his arms, the room dark and his soft breaths blowing against the back of my head. My body was sore, and my eyes burned, and my throat was so dry it felt like I’d been wandering the desert for weeks.

  I needed water.

  Keeping an eye on Kellan as I moved, I shifted until I was out of his arms. He must have been exhausted, because he didn’t even stir. I stayed there for a second, just staring at his face. He looked relaxed. Serene.

  It was t
he complete opposite of how I felt.

  Trying to swallow proved useless—I was totally lacking in saliva—so I turned away from him and headed to the kitchen. I wore nothing but my underwear and a thin tank, and after being on the road for days, the chill from the air conditioner made me shiver. I hugged myself, but it didn’t help, and by the time I reached the kitchen, goose bumps had popped up on every inch of my skin.

  Being back in my own place meant I didn’t have to think. A glass found its way into my hand without me realizing how, then it was full, and I was gulping the water down. It was cool, so different from the water we’d had after the rain, which had been lukewarm, or the water we’d had to boil. It made me think about how lucky I was that Jasper had found us when he did. How easy things had been for me, and how different it could have turned out. That was something I’d thought about in the past, but only in an abstract way. Never when I was in Altus, stuffed in a tiny hotel room and sweating my ass off. I’d appreciated the difference, but I didn’t really understand it. Now, after spending a few days on the road and seeing how Beth and Logan had lived, I understood it more than ever.

  I was working on my second glass of water when footsteps entered the room behind me. Despite the days on the road, the familiarity of the condo made it easy to stay relaxed, and I turned, still drinking, and found Kellan standing in the doorway.

  “You were gone when I woke up.”

  I swallowed and set the glass down.

  “I was thirsty.”

  He nodded but said nothing, and for a second, we just stared at each other. It was probably the first time in over a decade that we didn’t know what to say to one another. He was probably trying to figure out how to comfort me, but I was trying to figure out how to talk without crumbling to pieces.

  Kellan swallowed and took a step closer to me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” I said, “and no.”

  He nodded as he held his hand out, offering me something to hold on to. I took it, slipping my hand into his and savoring the warm familiarity of his skin against mine. It was something older than our relationship, older than this apocalypse. It took me back to a time when everything had been normal and the future had been bright, and this man in front of me was just a boy. To a time when his touch had been teasing and light. A little shove, him grabbing me when we were swimming so he could toss me into the water. Him tackling me to the ground in our back yard as we fought over a football.