The Becoming: Revelations (35 page)

“If I had any say in it, I’d have made you stay back at Isaac’s place,” Ethan admitted. “You’re pregnant, and the thought of you running around doing risky shit like this makes me a little nervous.”

“I’ll be fine,” Cade assured him, though she gave him a smile, genuinely touched that he cared enough to say something. “I’m barely even a month and a half along. There’s not much there to be affected at this point.”

Ethan chuckled and tilted his head toward her, acknowledging her point. “Still, I want you to be careful, okay? I don’t want to have to be the one to break the news to Brandt if you get killed.”

“I think he’d have more trouble dealing with the fact that
you
were the one doing the telling,” Cade said with a soft laugh. “He still thinks you’re dead.”

Ethan ran his hand through his hair and smirked. “Yeah, I can imagine that would be a …
very
interesting discussion to listen in on.” He paused, studying the street around them. “Hey, Cade? Could you maybe … would you tell me what happened to Remy?” he asked hesitantly.

Cade’s step faltered, and she gave him a startled, wide-eyed look. “I … I wasn’t exactly
there,
” she stammered. “I mean, at the time, Alicia was having her assholes drag me out to the car and—”

“What did you hear?” Ethan persisted, his voice hard and tight. “How did she die, Cade? I need to know.”

Cade skirted a bicycle lying on the pavement and sucked in a deep breath. She let it out and shook her head. “There were … there were a lot of gunshots,” she finally said. She caught hold of a side mirror on a truck and stepped over the remains of a broken suitcase. “Enough that if they all hit her, then they definitely killed her.” She swallowed hard and added, in a soft voice, “I couldn’t do anything to save her.” She pressed her lips together and added, “I think she gave as good as she got, though.”

“What makes you say that?” Ethan asked, even as his tone indicated how heartbroken he was at the thought of Remy’s death.

“Because the two men Alicia left behind to take care of Remy were supposed to meet up with us that evening on the route back to Atlanta,” Cade explained. “They never showed up. Alicia was absolutely furious over it. I imagine Remy fought like hell and took them down with her. She’s never struck me as the type to just take whatever people threw at her.”

“That’s my girl,” Ethan said, his voice full of sad pride. “Always was a wildcat. Never took shit from anybody.”

Cade started to nod in agreement, but a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye made her stop short. She drew in a breath and turned, just in time to see no less than ten infected emerging from the ruins surrounding them, crawling and rising from under and behind cars and trucks and buses, intent on their position. Cade snatched her Beretta from the waistband of her jeans, flicked the safety off, and lifted it. She pointed it at the forehead of the nearest infected man, who quickened his pace as their eyes met. As she aimed, more infected swarmed from the shops around them, and she swore.

“Run!” Cade shouted to the others as she squeezed the trigger.

“What are we going to do, Brandt?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on. You’ve always got, like, a million plans rattling around in your head. You’ve
got
to have something this time.”

Brandt heaved a sigh and shook his head. “Remy …” he said simply, warningly, before letting his voice fall off. He ran his hands through his hair, grimacing at its length, and then resumed his pacing. Unfortunately, Remy felt the need to match him step for step, and not only that, she felt the need to do it
alongside
him. He glanced toward their newest companion, who—thankfully—did
not
seem inclined to pester him. Dominic clutched a can of soup, focusing solely on it as he ate, slowly and mechanically, straight from the can.

“What are we going to do about him?” Remy asked.

Brandt looked at Dominic again. The man still ate, holding the spoon awkwardly in his left hand as he hunched over, trying not to spill the soup. He glanced at them but turned his eyes back to the rooftop just as quickly.

“Do you think he was telling the truth?” Brandt asked.

“About Ethan?”

“About all of it,” he corrected.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because you’re the resident mind-reader around here,” Brandt half joked.

Remy sighed, stopped beside him, and crossed her arms. “I want to say no,” she said, staring steadily at the man as he tried to eat. “Mainly because I
really
want to shoot the hell out of him.” She dug her fingers into the crooks of her elbows. “Sadly, though, I don’t think he’s lying. He seems to be genuinely honest about what he told us.”

“Including the ‘Alicia is a psychotic bitch’ part,” Brandt said. He let out a bitter chuckle, and Remy looked at him in concern. He glanced at the edge of the roof, and his eyes were drawn inexorably to the skyscraper. He averted his eyes and walked to the edge of the building, planting one boot against the ledge and leaning out just enough to study the street below.

Remy joined him a moment later, her arms still crossed as she followed his gaze. “Worrying about Cade?” she asked.

“You have
no
idea,” Brandt muttered.

Remy patted him on the shoulder. He batted her hand away. “It’ll be all right,” she said in an attempt to reassure him.

“No the hell it won’t be,” Brandt snapped back. “It’s not going to be okay.
Nothing
will
ever
be okay. I don’t even fucking know if I’m ever going to see her again. I have to work on the assumption that I won’t and make plans accordingly. If that
was
her they were talking about on that news bulletin, then there’s a chance I’ll never be able to track down where those people are staying.”

Remy sighed and opened her mouth to protest Brandt’s statement, but the pop of a firearm from somewhere nearby interrupted her. Brandt tensed and squinted down the street, trying to make out where the gunshot had come from. “You heard that, right?” Remy asked breathlessly. She didn’t wait for Brandt’s reply. Instead, she rushed to the side of the building, stopped at the edge, and looked down as she sought out the source. Even Dominic had risen to his feet, his food abandoned as he strode to Brandt’s left to search in that direction.

“Remy! Binoculars! Now!” Brandt snapped, holding his hand out as he caught sight of movement in the distance. Remy hastened to obey, slapping the binoculars into his hand. Brandt held them up to his eyes, aiming them toward what he’d seen and adjusting the focus. His eyes narrowed as he struggled to make out what he was looking at. He sucked in a breath as the information finally passed from his eyes to his brain, and he resisted the urge to take a step back.

It was a horde of infected, at least fifteen of them. But what had prompted them to swarm like that? Another burst of gunfire echoed in his ears, and he swung the binoculars forward, searching, scanning the crowd below.

And then he found them. Five people ran ahead of the horde, sprinting for all they were worth, their feet pounding the pavement as they dodged between cars and jumped over luggage. Their progress was slowed by the litter as they pelted frantically down the street. Brandt spied a woman at the back of the group, lithe and lean, wrapped in a black vest and wearing black heeled boots, her dark hair loose and flowing in waves and curls down her back. As Brandt watched, she turned, a gun in each hand, and opened fire on the infected. Brandt drew in a breath. He’d recognize that slim figure and dark hair anywhere.

“Fuck! It’s Cade!” Brandt yelled. He nearly dropped his binoculars in his haste to put them down. He slung the rifle off his shoulder and dropped to a knee, setting himself up to aim at the infected from his high perch. As he rested his elbow against the concrete and adjusted his aim, squinting through the scope, Remy joined him.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked. She grabbed the binoculars from beside him and scanned the street.

“Get your gun out. Fire three shots,” Brandt instructed. “We need to get their attention so they know where they’re going.”

Remy obeyed, rushing to the corner closest to the street down which the survivors were fleeing. She raised her handgun into the air, flipped the safety off, and fired three shots. Brandt watched as Cade—and he was positive it was Cade—turned, raised her gun, and fired a single shot into the air in answer as she continued to run. Her head swung from side to side as she checked the rooftops.

“Remy! Wave something! Get their attention!” Brandt ordered. He adjusted his aim, pinpointing a single infected man that was too close to Cade for comfort and squeezing the trigger. The man’s head exploded, and he fell back against the pavement, unmoving.

Brandt clenched his teeth and shifted his aim to the next infected person as the group of five skirted another vehicle and hit the sidewalk at a dead run. Remy waved a white t-shirt as if challenging a charging bull, running along the rooftop to direct them to the fire-escape staircase attached to the side of the building. Cade still brought up the rear, her guns still in her hands. Brandt managed a smile and fired another bullet into the skull of another infected.

The clamor of shoes striking the fire escape met Brandt’s ears, but Brandt didn’t let up his cover fire. He was determined to make sure the five made it onto the rooftop. When the roof’s access door burst open, Brandt ceased fire and set the rifle down gently, propping it against the ledge as he rose to his feet and slowly turned. His hands trembled and his heart raced in his chest as he watched in anticipation while the group hurried onto the roof, one after another.

A young woman with blond hair was in the lead, followed by a tall, muscular black man. Brandt had never seen either of them. Behind the man came a face that was shockingly familiar. Brandt was taken aback by the sight of the doctor who’d been in charge of his case, and he took a short step toward him. Before he could speak, his attention was pulled to Remy as she let out a loud, excited yelp. He looked to her and saw her rush toward Ethan Bennett as he stepped through the door, squinting in the midmorning sunlight. She flung herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and clinging tightly to him. Brandt didn’t watch the reunion any further; he only had eyes for Cade.

The dark-haired woman stepped out onto the roof. She shielded her eyes with her left hand as her right still gripped one of the sidearms with which she’d shot at the infected. The other was holstered at her side. Her face was pale and damp with sweat. Strands of hair stuck to her skin; the rest tumbled in a tangled mass over her shoulders and back. Brandt strode forward, his boots thumping across the roof, and pushed past everyone else to go straight to her. He grabbed the woman by her wrist and pulled her close, crushing her against his chest as he wrapped her in a tight, wordless embrace.

“Oh my God,” Cade said. Her voice was muffled against his chest as she dropped her gun and returned his embrace. She clung to him, her fingers digging into his jacket. “Oh my God, you’re alive!”

“
I’m
alive?” Brandt managed hoarsely. He released Cade just enough to look her over, searching for injuries. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m not hurt. I’m fine,” she assured him. He cupped her face in his hands, tracing his thumbs over her cheekbones. He slid his hands into her hair and pulled her to him again. He looked over her head at the others. Ethan had his own arms wrapped around Remy as the young woman wept against his chest in relief. Brandt’s eyes met Ethan’s, and Ethan gave him a slight smile and a short nod.

“As touching as this reunion is,” the unknown black man spoke up, “we’ve got a mission to complete as soon as possible.”

Brandt didn’t let go of Cade as he looked at the man. “What kind of mission are you talking about? And, for that matter, who the hell
are
you?”

“My name is Isaac Wright,” the man answered. “I helped Miss Alton out just after she escaped from Alicia Day’s custody.”

“He’s okay, Brandt,” Cade said. She tugged away from him and looked at each of the survivors in turn. “He probably saved my life. And he’s dead set on seeing Alicia stopped.”

“Sounds like we’ve got similar goals,” Brandt acknowledged. “So I assume you guys have a plan?”

“Yeah. But, ah, Brandt?” Cade asked suddenly. She looked up at him, a frown gracing her features. “Where’s Gray?”

It’d been a long two hours in which the group talked over each other, arguing as they attempted to exchange information, telling their stories from the past month and showing off new scars—both physical and emotional. There had been long moments of grief as Cade and Ethan learned of Gray’s death at Alicia’s hands, grief that was quickly put aside for the present. But despite the emotional turmoil of those two hours, Ethan still couldn’t describe the relief he felt at discovering that Remy was still alive. It far surpassed the feelings he’d experienced when Cade walked into the room at Isaac’s apartment looking tired and disheveled, but alive. Ethan had been heartbroken when he’d been told that Remy was dead, but he’d hidden the grief, shoved it far down, where it wouldn’t break free on its own. To have the young woman in front of him, alive and well and uninjured—it was something far beyond his wildest dreams.