Chapter 20
I’ll never tell him so, but having Chase along makes things a little easier.
With three of us, that’s three sets of ears to listen for any wrong sounds.
Taking watch is easier with a three-man rotation, and the flamings go a lot smoother when there’s an extra pair of eyes for the stare.
Between us, we actually start looking for lurkers to hunt instead of hiding out peacefully most nights.
I mean, we are heading into New York to get rid of a nest. Why not do some hunting along the way?
Maverick, I notice, is in a much better mood, too. In the days following our escape from East Jersey, he’s making an effort to be friendlier. I’m betting it has everything to do with the auction and the gun. It’s almost like he thinks that I’ve gotten over it because we made it out in one piece.
Fat chance.
Alexandra Holden doesn’t forget, and she rarely forgives.
And it’s not just what happened in the prison town.
With Chase carrying the taser, me with my knife, and Mav holding onto his gun, we’re armed enough that I’ve decided to hold off on stealing it out of petty revenge.
I’m still pissed that he invited Chase to join us without even asking me.
Add that to how he betrayed me because of that gun, and I won’t feel like we’re even until I have it.
For now, I let it go. He had a point. With the three of us, we can hunt more effectively, travel faster, and if there’s one thing I’m sure of, I can trust Chase in a way that I never could a rogue that I met less than two weeks ago.
I know who’s on my side, and no matter why he’s there, it’s enough to make me feel a little more hopeful about eliminating that huge nest in New York, and maybe even making it out again so that we can return to the Grave together.
Not that there’s any reason to rush. I’m down with cutting a swath through the rest of New Jersey, killing lurkers as we go instead of doing our best to sneak past them. Hell, yeah, let’s make a dent. It’s not a race to New York, right?
Too bad that I’m hopelessly outnumbered.
I guess that makes sense. Chase came all this way, tracking me from Madison, so that he could bring me home once I was ready to go. Of course he’ll want to finish the trip to Manhattan, do his best to make sure I survive, then herd my ass back to the Grave. And Mav… he agrees with him.
Actually, the plan to get to New York ASAP is about the only thing that Maverick and Chase see eye to eye on. Well, that and killing lurkers.
Oh, and how they both seem to think that I need to be coddled like a child.
Seriously. I’m not allowed to wander off on my own or I get a lecture from Chase; with a satisfied gleam in his eyes, Maverick just sits back and lets Chase scold me.
I take it because I hear the undercurrent of fear and concern lacing his voice when he talks about how dangerous it is out here.
I still don’t know what kind of shit he went through during the time when he was surviving on his own, keeping his distance so that I didn’t know he was close.
Considering the scrapes and bruises and the shadows in his eyes… it wasn’t anything good.
And that was before he got worked over by Darryl’s boys up until they released him, allowing him to attend the auction just in time to save me.
I understand why Chase is so afraid of something happening to me, even if I lie to myself and say he shouldn’t care. He does, and it’s not worth riling him up by shutting him down like I did after he called me by my sister’s name.
That doesn’t mean I let them get away with the coddling. Nope. I’m more determined than ever to prove myself—especially to Chase.
That’s why, when I’m on watch, I refuse to wake the guys up when I sense any less than three lurkers on the edge of our campsites.
Sure, Chase is terrified that I could’ve gotten hurt, but the way Maverick nods, impressed, when he sees another pile of ashes in the morning makes me feel like an important part of our little crew.
All in all, I’m slowly making a dent in Chase’s thirty-eight recent kills and, one morning when I tell him so, Chase stops mid-lecture, almost like he’s been thunderstruck.
His mood shifts on a dime. From scared and worried to suddenly delighted, he laughs and gives me a quick side hug that has me freezing up before he just as quickly pulls away.
One good thing comes out of that awkward moment.
From then on, he doesn’t treat me like a porcelain doll that has to be handled with kid gloves.
Our relationship is better for it, though I can’t deny that the continued bickering between Maverick and Chase can probably be traced back to that hug. Their honeymoon didn’t last very long.
I will admit that, every now and then, I do catch Chase looking at me hungrily, but as long as I’m not purposely avoiding him, we’re both able to pretend that this is like the before times.
When Hallie was still there, acting the part of the referee for any good-natured sniping between her boyfriend and her twin.
Since the time I exploded at him, he hasn’t called me by my sister’s name again, and as long as he remembers that I’m Xandra or hedges his bets by referring to me by my surname, everything is fine.
Well, not everything.
Though I never thought I would, I’m really suffering from homesickness.
I was able to ignore it when it was just Mav and me, but with Chase here…
fuck. I miss the Grave. Chase is an aching reminder of what life was like before I made the impulsive decision to go with Maverick on this quest. Most of all, I miss Jack, and I wonder how he’s holding up, the last Holden left in Madison.
I can’t wait to kill some lurkers and finally get back.
Chase takes first watch. Maverick usually goes second. I’m cranky if they forget to wake me up to take my turn, so I go third.
It’s chilly out tonight; for the first time, Denise’s hoodie and Rory’s jacket aren’t enough to keep me warm, especially when I’m drenched.
The rain trickled on and off all morning making today’s travel more difficult than it should’ve been.
Though it’s been four days since we left East Jersey, Maverick swore he heard a whistle mid-day and pushed us harder and harder until the slick rain made our muddy path treacherous and I slipped.
I fell flat on my ass, covered in mud, cursing as the rain stung my eyes. Chase hurriedly helped me back to my feet and demanded we find shelter until the rain—and the threat—had passed.
Maverick argued with him, but when I chimed in, voting for shelter as I tried to wipe off the mud, he gave up when he saw I was only smearing it all over my jeans.
Letting me lead, using my better-tuned ability to sense when lurkers are near, we eventually entered a small cul-de-sac.
Trusting my gut, we smashed a window and broke into a two-story house in the center.
It was a good find. Not many houses are locked-up tight after the Turning.
If the house is abandoned, that means survivors either died where they stood or they fled.
Maybe it’s habit to lock up after yourself when you leave, but when a lurker is plodding after you, snapping its powerful jaws, locking the door is pointless when the lurker can just burst right through it.
This cul-de-sac is in nearly pristine condition.
When the house we picked turned out to be locked, we fixed that easily with a large rock that Chase found in a nearby garden.
It had never been claimed by a lurker before.
My first lungful of air was dusty and stale.
Instead of the lurker’s rot, it reeked of helpless abandonment.
But there were non-perishables in the cabinet, some towels to dry off, and blankets for us to bring with us to wrap up against the rain.
Even more amazingly, as I scavenge one of the upstairs bedrooms, I find a dresser and a closet with clothes that are near enough to my size that I can’t help myself.
“I’m taking a shower,” I announce to the two guys.
“No,” Maverick answers, and it’s nothing less than I was expecting. “We’ve already stayed here too long.”
Too bad.
I pick up a hunk of wet hair. “I look like a poodle.”
“You look gorgeous as ever, Holden.”
I ignore Chase. “I’m wet. Soaked all the way down to my panties. My jeans are covered in mud. My toes are squelching in my boots. I’m changing—”
“There’s time for that,” begins Maverick.
No. “There’s time for me to shower off the rain. I won’t be long. Just enough to get clean. You guys can see if you can swap out your drenched t-shirts, too. When the rain stops, we can go.”
Maverick marches over to the window. “It’s stopping now. The sun’s peeking through.”
Of course it is. “Then we don’t have to worry about lurkers again for a couple of hours.”
“Xandra—”
I open my mouth to continue to argue. It’s pointless.
I should’ve just started to strip off my wet clothes.
Rory’s leather jacket is all but waterproof, but Denise’s hoodie is soaked.
I need a fresh shirt, fresh underwear, and new jeans before putting Rory’s jacket back on.
I’m not above stealing it from this house, just like I’m two seconds away from taking off all of my clothes in front of these two guys.
Tell me I can’t shower then, Mav. Sure, I might give Chase an aneurysm, but it would be worth it to get out of these wet clothes.
And that’s when Chase plants his boots on the carpet, crossing his arms over his chest. “You go if you want. I’ll stay here with her.”
Great. I don’t need a knight in shining armor to fight my battles for me, but the look on Chase’s face says that he’ll stay here all night if he has to to make sure I get that shower.
Maverick eyes him up and down.
For days now, there’s been sniping. Little cheap shots back and forth that make me wonder why Maverick invited Chase along if he was just going to pick at him the way he did me the first couple of days. It’s worse because Chase obviously has a chip on his shoulder when it comes to the older man.
It only becomes more noticeable when Maverick chews on the corner of his mouth before asking Chase, “How old are you?”
If Chase wonders why Maverick gives a shit about his age, he doesn’t make it obvious. He just answers with a curt, “Twenty-five.”
“If I make it to next February, I’ll be forty.”
“And?”
I’m with Chase. And?
“I’m your superior. In age. In rank. In experience. I say we move out now before someone catches up to us.”
It can’t be Darryl. Maverick used his second-to-last bullet to spatter his brains all over that bedroom.
But if any of the East Jersey inmates decided to come after us…
if other rogues caught us coming into this cul-de-sac…
if my sensing ability failed, the rainstorm tricked the lurkers into thinking it was night, and we get trapped by hungry monsters… yeah. Someone could catch up to us.
Damn it.
My shoulders slump.
Chase turns to me.
“Xandra?” he says, and there’s a slight waver to his voice as he uses my name. “What do you want to do?”
What do I want to do? That’s obvious.
I was lucky enough to scavenge a house that once belonged to a woman close enough to my size that I can borrow fresh clothes.
The shower back at East Jersey was a tease.
Chloe put me behind a frosted glass shower stall, keeping the chilled spray on long enough to rinse the tangles out of my hair and wash the dirt off of my face.
Four days later, and I still have some of that make-up on.
That, plus I can’t shake the fact that Chase’s mouth was on my pussy, his dick inside of me, his body weighing me down right before he would’ve fucked me if Maverick hadn’t shown up when he did…
the rain on my skin has just made all the sensations worse.
I need a real shower.
“Five minutes,” I promise. “In and out. Then I’ll get dressed and we can go.”
Without a word, Maverick turns toward the open bedroom door.
I take a step after him. “Where are you going?”
“You don’t need an audience, and I’ll feel better if I’m not closed-up in this house. I’m going outside.”
“Are you going ahead without us?”
Maverick pauses, turning so that I can look at his face—but he’s focusing on Chase.
“How many kills did you have in the Grave? Thirty-something since July, right? What about before that?”
“I don’t know. They just needed to die so I could keep my… keep the Grave safe. It wasn’t a competition.”
For Chase maybe. For me?
“If they would’ve let me gone after those fuckers after”—Hallie—“that night, I’d have smashed his record.”
For a moment, I think I fucked up. He laughed the other day, but reminding Chase of the flaming gone wrong that stole Hallie from him is probably the worst thing to do… and maybe it is, but though his eyes tighten at the corners, he lets out a short laugh.
“Yeah. She’s an ass-kicker, this one.”
I give him a small grin. “So are you.”
“That’s my point,” cuts in Maverick. “I’m not as fast as I was.
I don’t recover as quickly as I used to.
With three of us splitting the night watch, we can each rest a little more.
Plus, nothing will stop me from taking care of business in New York.
It might’ve been impossible on my own. With just Xandra, it still would be rough.
Throw in another kid who understands why we need to stop the lurkers for once and for all if we can, and I’m not giving up the help. So, yeah. I’ll be there.”
“Five minutes,” I repeat.
He nods, and then he’s gone, leaving Chase and me alone in some forgotten woman’s bedroom.
I clear my throat. “Thanks, Chase. For sticking up for me.”
A small, sad smile tugs on his lips. “Anything for you.”
No. Anything for Hallie.
But, like Rory’s jacket, I’m all he has left of his love—and with that thought, I finally understand why he’s so damn attached to me. It’s like my obsession with my brother’s jacket and my mother’s anklet.
He’s clinging to me because he can’t have Hallie.
And I’ll have to do what I can to keep my distance because I… I can’t be what he wants.
Because, no matter how he obviously wishes otherwise, I’m not Hallie.