Alone (26 page)

I shake my head, but I don’t look up. I’m not sure I can even move.

“What’s your name?”

The softness in her voice makes me lift my head. “Roman.”

“I’m Becca. Why don’t you lay down and get some sleep?” She gets to her feet and motions toward the couch. “I’ll get you a blanket.”

I want to argue, but I can’t. I can barely keep my head up.

I sprawl out on the couch and stare at the ceiling. Becca drapes a blanket over me, but I barely notice it. Then she’s gone. I have no idea where Mike went or even if he knows his girlfriend told me I could sleep here, and I can’t find the energy to care.

I close my eyes and think about Jules and Mac. Hopefully they’re both okay. My body gets heavier, and I start to drift off.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Gone

I’m starting to disappear.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Prisoners

The aroma of coffee pulls me back to reality, and when I open my eyes, the speckled white ceiling that greets me is as foreign as the idea of a zombie virus was three years ago. Where the hell am I?

My head is pounding, so it takes a few seconds to gather my thoughts. When it hits me, I have a hard time breathing. Atlanta.

I sit up so fast that my head spins. I grip it between my hands and squeeze my scalp. Every inch of my body aches, from my muscles to the cut on my arm. Shit. The cut. I’d forgotten all about it.

I pull the bandage aside and wince when the cut starts to throb. The red skin surrounding it is visible even through the mass of dried blood covering the wound.

“You’re awake,” Becca says from the kitchen

I slip the filthy bandage back over the cut as I stand. My legs wobble and the pounding in my head increases, but I power through and head for the kitchen. Becca is already pouring me a cup of coffee, but Mike is nowhere to be seen.

“What time is it?” I ask, shaking my head. I’m having a tough time clearing the cobwebs from my brain. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

“It’s only six.” She slides the mug across the counter toward me. “Mike is always off doing something that he can’t talk about.”

My stomach twists. Shit. It’s already been twenty-four hours since Jules was bitten, meaning I may be too late. We’re going to have to haul ass back.

The pain in my stomach intensifies until I almost double over. If we somehow manage to get through this—which I’m becoming less and less certain of—I’m going to have one killer ulcer.

And Mac. Damn. I hope he’s okay.

“So what’s it like out there?” Becca’s green eyes sparkle with interest.

“Like hell on earth.”

She frowns as her eyes narrow. “It can’t be that bad. It’s only been two years and the government never really collapsed. They keep saying they’re working it out.”

I flick my hair out of my face and shrug. “There are times when I think it’s not that bad. When I think we’ll pull through and things will get better. Then there are times when I think it would have been better if the virus had wiped us all out during those first few months. Then it could be over and maybe a more responsible, civilized species could take over.”

She looks away from me. Did I upset her? I don’t really care, except I don’t want her to get pissed off and throw me out or anything.

When she looks back, her eyes are a little red. “How’d you get into the city?”

“Climbed. There’s a weak spot at the back. Someone told me about it. Of course, getting to the wall was a little dicey. A friend of mine had to lead the zombies away to give me a good chance.”

Her eyes get bigger as I talk. “So the city is really surrounded?”

Does she not believe me? Why the hell would I lie? “Climb the wall and see for yourself.”

“It’s just—I wondered if the people who used to live out there are still hanging around. When Mike and I first got here, we hid out in an old house and there was this woman. She had been older, probably in her sixties before she died, and I’d see her wandering the streets almost every day. A couple times, I even caught her sitting on the porch swing. It was hard to tell because she was decayed, but there was a picture on the wall inside the house, and I was pretty sure it was her. That she had lived there before the outbreak and she remembered. If that’s the case, then maybe my own parents are still hanging around their house. Just waiting for me to come back.”

For some reason, I feel like laughing. “If they were, would you want to see them? Say you go home and your zombie mom and dad are sitting on the front porch. Would you want to see what they look like after two years? It wouldn’t be pretty.”

“That’s what Mike says. I just—I keep thinking… What if? What if we could reverse all this and bring these people back?” She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “If they remember, they can come back.”

The coffee in my stomach threatens to come back up, and I jump to my feet. It’s just too horrible to even think about.

“If you thought for even a second that was true, why didn’t you put that old lady out of her misery?”

“The CDC could find a way to fix them!” she says, her eyes flashing like she’s on the verge of hysteria. “You don’t know.”

“Becca—” I lower my voice, working to sound sympathetic. “They’re too far gone. They died. Even if a part of them is still in there, they can’t be brought back.”

She sniffs and looks away. “You don’t know that for sure.”

She’s right, I don’t know anything for sure, but I’ve seen those things up close too many times. They could never be human again. It’s too insane.

Just as insane as the idea that people are trapped inside the bodies of these monsters. Prisoners.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Silence

I can no longer speak.

My father comes back and gets me out of the water once again. I see him. Know he’s here. But I can’t form any real words.

When I’m lying on the cot, he stands over me. Shaking. The longer he stands there, the more his shoulders droop. After a while he starts pacing. I follow his progress with my eyes, but my vision isn’t as clear as it once was. I’m at the end of the line.

Please, Roman. Please.

When my father finally stops pacing, he turns to face me. Even with my limited vision, the defeat in his eyes is shockingly clear. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He doesn’t step closer to me. “I’ve wanted to say it for two years. I’m sorry for not coming to get you when the virus was released. I was busy at work. The world was falling apart and my days were filled with meeting after meeting…and I kept telling myself you were better off. Your mother was with you. I never thought I was equipped to be a father. It was too chaotic. Order. That’s what I need to cope with the world. Structure.” He swallows like the words are difficult to get out. “I never imagined that your mother…” His voice breaks, and tears streams down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry I abandoned you like that.”

My brain processes his words slowly. They’re difficult to take in. I know they’re important, but I can’t quite focus on their meaning.

When he’s done talking, he kisses my forehead. He whispers that he loves me, and then he’s gone. Out the door. Shutting it behind him. He won’t be coming back.

I can’t blame him.

I’m not me anymore.

Jules is gone. I’m trapped inside my body where I will remain until someone can put me out of my misery.

Roman has failed.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Escape

I can’t sit still. I’m shaking and sweating. My cigarettes are gone and there’s nothing else to distract me. I pace the living room while the sun gets higher.

It’s nine o’clock by the time Mike walks through the front door, and I almost attack him. “Tell me you have it!”

He shakes his head, and my fingers twitch. They itch for my gun. Has he been playing with me this whole time? Can he even get the vaccine?

Have I missed my opportunity to say goodbye to Jules?

“Calm down, we’ll get it. We have to meet my guy.”

My stomach is a knotted ball of pain. I rub the back of my neck, digging my fingers in like I’m trying to peel the skin away. I want to be anyone but me right now. I can’t live with the pain anymore.

“When?”

“Now. Come on.”

Mike walks out, and I follow him without thinking. What do I have to lose at that point? Everything is already lost. Jules is running out of time. Soon she’ll cease to exist.

Then I won’t exist either.

Atlanta is busy during the day. The streets are so full of people that I have to be careful not to lose Mike. Twice he dips out of sight and I find myself searching the crowds until he comes back to find me. Am I’m thinking clearly? My brain is groggy. Slow.

Maybe I’m infected too. Maybe I’ll turn into a monster too, and then Jules and I can live together…

“This way!”

Mike turns down an alley, and I jog to catch up on shaky legs. It’s less crowded than the main road, and when I look up, the CDC is looming in front of us. We’re headed toward the center of Atlanta.

My heart pounds a bit faster, and I want to tell it to calm the hell down. I’ve been clinging to hope to get me through, but hope is starting to seem pointless. I’m just going through the motions now.

Mike stops at the end of the alley and sits on an overturned plastic bucket. He crosses his legs and pulls out a cigarette, lounging back like he’s just going to hang out for a while. I want to shoot him in the balls.

“What are you doing?” My voice is as shaky as I am. I need to get my shit together.

This isn’t over yet, you can still save her.
I try to convince myself, but even in my own head it sounds like a stupid man clinging to desperation.

“He’ll be here in a few minutes. Look, I know this is a big thing to ask of you right now, but do you think you can relax? Try to look casual. If someone sees you standing around like that, they’re going to get suspicious. I’m good with the guards, but they’ll still throw your ass in jail for carrying a weapon.”

Casual? Isn’t that my thing? Isn’t that how I always look?

How do I look now?

The muscles in my body are wound so tight they’re like a rubber band wrapped around a newspaper. Any minute it’s going to snap, and then the paper is going to come unrolled and all I’ll be is a limp pile of paper. Useless.

I catch my reflection in an old, dusty window. I look like one of the dead with the way my hair is plastered to my head and the dirt streaked across my face. My clothes are torn, and blood has dried on my arm from that damn cut. How have I blocked out the pain?

I move the cloth aside and get a good another look at it. It’s bright red around the edges now. Shiny and throbbing. Hot to the touch. Infected. No wonder things are starting to feel surreal. I’m probably running a fever.

“Shit. What happened?” Mike gets up and tosses his cigarette to the ground.

“Cut it climbing over the wall.” I can’t tear my eyes away from the red flesh surrounding the injury. It’s on fire. I can’t believe I didn’t notice the pain before.

The ache inside me must have overshadowed the pain from the cut.

Mike shakes his head as he examines it. “You can’t mess around with shit like that these days. That dude super-charged all the bugs out there when he released the virus. A cut like that will get you killed. You’re gonna need some antibiotics.”

I nod and feel like I am floating away.

“I’m serious man—you will die.”

“I’m dead already,” I mumble.

“Shit.”

Mike shakes his head.

What did I say?

“Shit,” he says again.

“Mike!”

We both turned to find three guys headed our way. The two guys from before and a new one. The new guy is tall. Lanky and thin. Kind of odd-looking.

“Thank God,” Mike says, once again shaking his head. “You got it?”

“We do,” the guy with the gray eyes says.

He’s watching me, and in my slightly delirious state, his eyes seem ready to open up and rain down on me. I half expect lightning bolts to shoot out of them.

“He needs antibiotics,” Mike is saying.

“That’s bad.” The new guy, the tall one, leans over me so he can look at my arm. “I can get it, but it’s going to take me about fifteen minutes.”

“We’ll wait. He needs it, man. He’s not gonna make it if we don’t.”

What the hell is Mike talking about? I can’t wait fifteen minutes. I have to leave.

“Since when do you give a shit if people live or die?” The guy with the gray eyes asks. “Thought all you cared ‘bout was makin’ money—or credits or whatever the hell the government’s usin’.”

“Call me a sucker. Can you get it?”

The tall guys sighs, and he’s already backing away. “Yeah, man, I’ll be back.”

He heads off by himself, but the other two guys stay. I focus on the Asian guy because the gray eyes of the other dude are freaking me out. Then my gaze moves to the stump that used to be his arm, and I jerk back. What the hell happened here?

“Bastard’s delirious,” someone says.

Did I get the cure?

I turn to face Mike. “What’s going on? Give me the stuff!” My head is pounding.

“Sit down.” Hands push me onto the overturned bucket Mike was just sitting on. “The doc’ll be right back. He ran to get you some antibiotics.”

I shake my head.

“The new shit the CDC created will take care of this.” Mike’s face pops up in front of me. “One injection and you’ll be good. They developed it after the virus. It didn’t help with that infection, but it will work on this one. Fifteen minutes.”

Mike’s hands are on my shoulders like he’s trying to keep me down, and even though I’m ready to bolt, I can’t move. My head is pounding too damn much. The world spins, and a drop of sweat runs down my forehead and into my eye. I’m shivering. When the hell did this start?

“I don’t have fifteen minutes!” My voice cracks, and I try to stand. The bucket falls over, sending me to the ground. I put my face in my hands and close my eyes.

I have to get going…Jules…Mac…

“You won’t make it back like this.”

Whoever said it is right, and I hate myself for my weakness.

The sound of voices brings me back to reality, and I lift my head. The tall guy is back. Has it been fifteen minutes already?

“What the hell took you so long?” Mike snaps.

“Security.” He kneels in front of me. “Even the ER has guards.”

The tall guy jerks my sleeve up and tells me to hold still, and I wince when something pricks my arm. When I look over, I find the guy injecting a yellow liquid into my body.

Did he just inject me with poison?

“You’ll be fine,” he says when he stands. “Give it about an hour to kick in.”

“I can’t wait an hour.” I try to stand, but the guy with gray eyes pushes me down.

Mike holds up a glass syringe that’s filled with bright, green liquid. “The vaccine.”

When he presses it into my hand, I wrap my fingers around it. It feels like it weighs a hundred pounds even though it fits in the palm of my hand. I open my fingers. The green liquid reminds me of the primordial ooze that mutated the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

“Truck’s headin’ out soon,” the guy with the gray eyes says. What did Mike call him? Oh yeah, Axl.

“Can he even walk?” the Asian guy asks.

Wish I knew his name so I didn’t have to keep thinking of him as the Asian guy.

“He can walk.” Mike grabs my arm and pulls me up. “We have to go, but you need to take it easy or you’ll never make it.”

My head is spinning, and my feet trip over each other when I hurry to keep up with the three men. “Where are we going?”

“We have to get you out of the city,” Mike tells me. “It’s not like you can climb the wall in your condition, which means we’ll have to smuggle you out.”

“Parv’s on duty now,” Axl says, turning to face the Asian guy. “Al, you gotta get to her soon as possible. Let her know what’s goin’ on an’ make sure she don’t flag that truck.”

Al nods once. “I’m on it.”

He jogs off, pushing his way through the crowd.

“What’s the plan?” I ask, my head suddenly feeling a little clearer. Can that antibiotic really have worked so quickly?

“I know a guy,” Mike says, pulling me faster.

Of course he does.

Mike is alone when pushes his way through the crowd and heads over to where I’m leaning against the wall, waiting for him. “It’s all set.”

Just like I thought, my head has begun to clear, and my thoughts are actually coherent. That antibiotic is a miracle drug.

Why the hell hasn’t the CDC shared it with the other settlements?

“I want details,” I say, pulling my backpack up higher. It’s emptier than it was when I left home, but feels a million times heavier because of it what it holds: the vaccine.

“Come on.” Mike jerks his head as he starts walking. “I got a friend who runs supplies into other towns. He’s leaving in ten minutes. Axl’s got a friend who works the gate, and he let her in on the plan. She’ll check the truck and she’ll give the all-clear so you can get out of the city. All you have to do is sit in the passenger seat and keep your mouth shut.”

A sudden wave of gratitude comes over me. My brain was too foggy to comprehend it all before, but now that I’m thinking a little more clearly I understand how much Mike has actually done for me. Why was this guy helping me anyway?

“What’s in this for you?” I ask.

“Oh yeah.” Mike stops walking. “Give me the damn gun.”

I actually manage a smile as I hand it over. “That’s not what I meant.”

Mike shoves it under his shirt, his eyes scanning the area to make sure no one is looking. “I know what you meant. Can’t a guy just be decent?”

I shrug as I reach for a cigarette but drop my hand when it hits me that I’m out. “You would think.”

“Look, I love Becca. If I were in your shoes… Well, let’s just say that I hope someone would give me a fighting chance.”

Makes sense. “Well, thank you.”

“Just don’t send any of your friends my way in the future.”

I nod again, but know it won’t matter. I’ve probably already failed, which means I won’t be alive long enough to tell this story.

“Thanks for all your help.”

Mike starts walking. “Let’s get you out of here.”