The Becoming: Revelations (18 page)

“You better. Otherwise, I’d have to kick your ass,” Remy mock-threatened. Even Gray had to laugh at the delightful mental image of skinny little Remy trying to beat the hell out of tall, muscular Brandt.

Brandt shook his head and pushed himself off the vehicle. “I think we need to start planning our next move,” he announced. He leaned into the front passenger side and retrieved the map he’d swiped before the attack at the other gas station. “We’ve got to figure out what to do, because while we know where they took her, we’re at a disadvantage because we don’t know what we’re walking into.” He unfolded the map and walked to the front of the vehicle to spread the paper out on the hood. Gray joined him, Remy close behind. Brandt smoothed both hands over the paper and stared at it for long, silent moments before speaking again. “So. Suggestions?”

Gray raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re asking two untrained people who’re probably just lucky to be here for suggestions when you’re the one with all the skills and experience in this kind of thing?” he asked incredulously. “Come on, man. Use your brain. Stop focusing on Cade for ten seconds, okay? I know she’s the ultimate goal, but right now, our immediate objective is actually getting there.”

Brandt sighed heavily and nodded in concession. “Right, right,” he acknowledged. He leaned over the map again, squinting at it. “Sorry. I’ve just gotten so used to conferring with, say, Cade and Ethan on ideas and suggestions and plans that I didn’t even think twice about asking.”

Remy laughed. “Hey, totally understandable,” she said. She gave Brandt another squeeze on the shoulder. “So let’s start with this. Where the hell are we?”

Brandt moved his fingers over the map, his index finger dropping onto Hollywood, South Carolina. He looked up from the map and squinted at a collection of highway signs near the gas station. Then he refocused on the map, his fingers trailing from Hollywood along a highway, where he stopped on a point.

“We’re near Allendale,” Brandt announced. “Coming up on it, anyway. We should definitely be reaching Augusta before nightfall, if my estimates are right.”

“So of course, the next question should be if we plan to push on all night or stop before Augusta and handle
that
in the morning,” Remy said thoughtfully. “And if we plan to go through Augusta or around it.”

“Well, we know what
my
vote will be,” Brandt said. He continued to slide his finger along their presumed trail. “I’m all for keeping on to Atlanta nonstop.”

“What about rest, Brandt?” Gray asked. It was something with which Theo would have been concerned. And since Theo wasn’t around to ask it, Gray felt it fell onto his shoulders to bring it up.

“Fuck rest. I’ll be fine,” Brandt said stubbornly.

“And you know what? I really don’t think I believe that,” Gray said, taking in the man’s rumpled clothes and the dark circles under his eyes.

“I don’t give a fuck what you do or don’t believe,” Brandt snapped. And just like that, Cranky Brandt was back in full force. Gray gritted his teeth and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could get any words out, Remy spoke up.

“Both of you shut the hell up,” she ordered. “I personally don’t care who’s tired, who isn’t,
or
who thinks who needs rest. I just want to get this shit over with, get Cade, and get the hell out of the entire fucking southeast.”

“So you’re with Brandt, then?” Gray asked. “Travel all night, little to no stops?”

“I’m not with anybody but myself,” Remy replied. “So can we
please
just get moving already? I’m ready to kill something.”

“I figured you’d be past the whole mindless killing spree thing after what happened at the safe house,” Brandt said in a low voice. His eyes were focused on his hands as he folded the map back up.

Remy froze, her eyes widening. Even from his vantage point across the hood, Gray could see the hurt in her eyes. “What did you say?” Remy hissed.

“You heard me,” Brandt replied. He put the folded map into his back pocket.

Remy’s jaw clenched, and she turned away from them both. “I’ll be in the fucking car,” she muttered. She climbed into the Escalade’s back seat and slammed the door.

Gray turned on Brandt, his face flushed with anger. Throwing aside his year-long feelings of trepidation toward the Marine, he took three brisk steps and pushed the man against the front of the Escalade. Thankfully, Brandt didn’t punch him—Gray’s worst fear. Instead, the other man merely narrowed his eyes.

“Why did you say that?” Gray demanded. “That was
totally
unnecessary! You know how she feels about what happened back there!”

“
Yes,
I do know, and
yes,
it
was
necessary,” Brandt said emphatically. “She has
got
to face up to what she did so she’ll at least be okay enough with it that she won’t freeze up if we get into a fight in Atlanta.”

“Did it
look
like she froze up back there at that other gas station?” Gray asked. He jabbed his hand in the general direction of the highway. “She had no problem pulling the trigger back there!”

“Yeah, on someone who was infected,” Brandt pointed out. “That is a whole ‘nother world from killing a person who
isn’t
infected, never mind two of them. And
that
is why, at this point, I wouldn’t trust her to have my back at all in Atlanta.”

“You can’t possibly—”

Brandt slammed his fist onto the hood of the SUV. Gray jumped and took an involuntary step back. “Damn it, Gray! I’m not in the mood for your bullshit!” he barked. “Stop with your equivocating on something you’ve never had to deal with! I’m talking from fucking
experience
. What have you got?”

Gray was startled by Brandt’s outburst. He hesitated before muttering, “Nothing.”

“Yeah. Nothing,” Brandt said in a measured tone of disgust. “So stop trying to fucking psychoanalyze me, and get in the damned car. We’ve got a long way to go, and I don’t want to put up with your bullshit the whole way there.”

Gray stared at Brandt for a moment longer as the older man circled to the driver’s side and flung the door open. He knew better than to question Brandt’s orders or try to continue the argument, though, so he retreated for now, moving to the passenger door and climbing in. He gritted his teeth at the thought of the uncomfortable ride he was in for.

Cade’s arrival in Atlanta was met without comment or fanfare—not that she’d expected any. If it hadn’t been for the dirty blue sign at the side of the highway that said, “Welcome to Atlanta,” Cade wouldn’t have known she was even in the city. She glanced at the back of Alicia’s head and frowned as she studied the woman’s hair, trying to make Alicia turn around just by glaring at her. After a few moments, she gave up. There wasn’t any sign that she’d even made Alicia uncomfortable. Instead, Cade diverted her eyes to the desolate cityscape outside, watching it roll past the window and mentally toying with her options.

Cade had to escape from Alicia’s clutches. She
had
to. She didn’t know exactly where the woman and her two remaining cohorts were taking her, save for Alicia’s reference to the Westin. Though they’d treated her reasonably well so far—all things considered, including her attempted escape back in the woods—she didn’t know if it was because of her pregnancy or because they were expediting the trip to a place where things would turn decidedly bad for her. Cade couldn’t risk waiting to see if Brandt came after her. As in the past, she’d have to take her fate into her own hands.

The early hours were overcast; it looked like it was going to rain, maybe even thunderstorm, judging by the darkness of the clouds above. Visibility was lower than normal. This would be the perfect place to attempt an escape, when she could disappear into the dimness of the streets and hide more easily.

But something inside Cade told her to wait, to plot and plan, to not rush headlong into a second attempt without a clear idea of what she was doing. They fast approached the downtown area, the same general location where Brandt had taken them the month before. She wasn’t wholly familiar with it; at the time, she’d been nearly unconscious and more focused on the pain in her side than on her surroundings, trusting Brandt to keep her safe. Despite that, she recognized the tops of several buildings, ones of which she’d caught glimpses as her companions took turns carrying her from the street on which she’d been shot to the Tabernacle. They looked vaguely familiar enough that she was sure she could attempt to navigate the city with at least a little confidence—assuming she kept looking
up,
that was.

As the van approached a congested intersection, Cade felt the vehicle slow down. She glanced out the window and then down at her hands, still linked by the cuffs. They were the obvious flaw in her plan. She’d have to obtain the keys off Alicia’s person at some point during her escape. Cade was reasonably sure she could take Alicia down.
Reasonably sure
didn’t guarantee success, but she’d have to try.

As the van slowed down further, Cade leaned forward.
It’s now or never,
she thought. She raised her arms and, with a savage twist of her upper body, swung them to the right. She slammed the metal cuffs and her fists against the side of Alicia’s head. Alicia floundered sideways against the seat, stunned. Her hand touched the side of her head; her fingertips came back stained with blood.

Cade didn’t take time to worry about the woman. Dominic was quickly turning, raising the rifle in his hands to aim it at her. It was
her
rifle, and she’d be damned if she got shot by her own weapon. Cade fell back in her seat. She kicked out and jarred the weapon from his grip with a single strike of her boot heel against his knuckles. Dominic swore and grabbed for the rifle, retrieving it as Cortez slammed on the brakes. Everyone in the vehicle lurched forward violently. Cade let out an involuntary cry as she was thrown against the seat in front of her. She took the opportunity the new proximity to Alicia offered to reach over the seat and snatch the redhead’s sidearm from the holster at her hip. Cade raised the gun and gritted her teeth, holding the weapon tightly in both hands and pointing it almost wildly at the three people holding her captive.

“Put the fucking rifle down,” Cade barked to Dominic as she trained her newly acquired gun right at his head. “Or so help me
God,
I’ll put a bullet right between your fucking eyes.” Dominic didn’t lower the rifle, despite her warnings. She narrowed her eyes and flexed her finger against the trigger. “Don’t do it, Dominic. I said put it down.”

“Cade, you don’t want to do this,” Alicia spoke up. Her voice was soft, a faint tremor ringing through it. Cade wondered only fleetingly what the emotion under her words was. She didn’t have time to focus on that, though. There were more pressing needs in front of her.

“And what makes you think that?” Cade demanded. “Because right now? Nothing would please me more than to pull the fucking trigger.”

“If you kill him, I swear to anything and everything holy that I will have you shot,” Alicia threatened.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Cade said. The pang of memory of her last—and only—gunshot wound ripped through her mind. “You need me. You’re hoping Brandt comes after me.”

“Nobody said we needed you
alive,
” Alicia snarled. “Just here. We could lure him in just as easily with your rotting corpse.”

Cade had had enough of Alicia’s bluffing. She lunged forward again and batted the rifle aside to deliver a swift punch straight to Dominic’s nose. Then she lashed out at Alicia with the pistol, striking her in the head with the weapon. The woman collapsed in her seat, unconscious.

Cade didn’t spare Alicia another glance. Instead, she grabbed the barrel of the rifle Dominic attempted to point at her again and wrenched it to the side. She nearly dropped the sidearm in her hand as she twisted the rifle from the man’s grasp. Once it was successfully in her hands, she slammed the butt of the rifle firmly into his face. He fell back onto the floorboard, scrunched behind the driver’s seat, his nose and the new cut on his forehead bleeding profusely.

A shift of movement at the front of the van caught Cade’s attention. Unable to twist the rifle around and hold it appropriately in her cuffed hands, she dropped it onto the seat and raised the sidearm again. She squeezed off a single round in Cortez’s direction. He’d turned with his own gun to point it at her, but he dropped it when the bullet struck the windshield a mere inch from his head.

“Don’t fucking try it,” Cade snarled, even as he clapped a hand to the side of his head with a grimace of pain. Cade slid sideways along the seat and opened the door, keeping her weapon trained on Cortez. She leaned over the seat again and grabbed the keys clipped to Alicia’s belt loop, ripping them free and staggering out of the van. She turned on her heel to flee and nearly ran right into a group of infected drawn to her location by the sound of her gunshot.

Cade stumbled back with a yelp of alarm. She reflexively raised her weapon and squeezed the trigger, firing a bullet into the crowd before turning on her heel and running. She only had a single magazine with an unknown quantity of bullets, and she was far too outmanned to attempt to fight. Her better option was clearly to run.

Cade clutched Alicia’s keys in her left hand, ignoring the pain of the metal digging into her palm. She darted around the front of the van and headed straight for the traffic-jammed street ahead of her. She slid between two cars, nearly getting her breath knocked out by their side mirrors, and took the chance to glance over her shoulder.