Chapter 12 On The Move #2
Trish stays calm, her voice hopeful but guarded.
“Yes, it will take time to get there, but the reward at the end is worth it. My parents own hundreds of acres, and big enough to house survivors. Some can stay in the barns for now, but there’s room to build houses, grow food, raise livestock.
It’s not perfect, but it’s a chance to find some normalcy.
It gives people something to live for. And it’s remote.
Low population means fewer infected. Cold winters will slow them down.
” She shrugs. “Plus, you know, I want to see if my parents are still alive.”
Oh, yeah. That. Touché.
“What’s the plan for getting there?”
Trish sketches a rough path in the air. “We’re taking the northern route up through Maryland, cutting across Pennsylvania, then west to northern Ohio. From there it’s a trek across the Midwest and finally home to Lavina, Montana.”
She adds, “We’ll avoid major cities and highways. Stick to the back roads, hit small towns for supplies.”
Every part of this plan is a gamble. Small towns, supply runs—each stop is a loaded gun. All it takes is one bad hand to lose everything. One swarm. One ambush.
Joanie grins, eyes gleaming. “We get to loot at every stop? Awesome.”
Trish grins, crossing her arms. “Sounds fun, right?”
“Sounds crazy,” I counter.
Trish lifts a brow. “This coming from the woman who stormed a prison full of lunatics?”
Joanie doesn’t even try to hide her snort.
Trish continues, “It’s a crazy that’s necessary. I’d think you of all people would appreciate that.”
Point for Trish. “Why didn’t you go there sooner?”
“We’ve been busy helping people. We stayed behind to find survivors, get them to safety, and gather supplies.
We sent others ahead of us in smaller groups, thinking they’d have a better chance of making it if they moved under the radar.
Each group took a different path for the same reason—stay off the radar, stay alive.
The goal is to reach the farm with enough food, meds, and fuel to keep us going for a while. We’re the last group to leave.”
I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes. “And how do you know they’ll make it?”
She shrugs. “We won’t know until we get there.”
“How many groups did you send?”
“Six,” she says. “Ten people in each group. They were made up of people we knew in our town. People we can trust.”
Joanie shifts, her voice small. “Do you think they all made it?”
Trish hesitates, her jaw tightening. “I hope so.”
She perches on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs.
“Look,” she says, her voice quieter now, almost earnest. “If you and Joanie are up for it, we’ll take you with us.
You’re free to leave anytime you want, but,” she pauses, meeting my gaze head-on, “I highly suggest you stick with us. You know, the whole ‘strength in numbers’ thing.”
I arch an eyebrow, my voice sharp. “And why exactly should I trust you?”
Trish laughs, the sound low and unbothered, as if the question is the most predictable thing she’s heard all day. She shakes her head, leaning back. “Hell, if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of saving your ass.”
Well, she’s got another point there.
“Thanks, but I don’t think I’m the settle-down-with-a-group type,” I say. “I’ll head out on my own once I’m healed.”
Because if I go with you, I’ll miss him. He’s out there. He has to be close.
Joanie interjects, “Lyla, what the fuck?”
I blink, startled. “What?”
She steps forward, arms crossed, eyes blazing. “You’re seriously thinking of staying behind? After everything?”
I glance at Trish. “Can you give us a minute?”
Trish nods, stands, and heads toward the door.
She pauses before leaving, her expression softer but firm.
“You might not trust us, and we might not trust you, not fully. But we take care of the people who help us. Jacob pays back his debts. Always. And you saved the group, including his mother. So, like it or not, he’s trying to pay you back. ” Then she’s gone.
Her words hit harder than I expect, slipping past the armor I’ve spent years fortifying. I hate that. Hate the way my chest tightens, the way my throat thickens with something dangerously close to emotion.
Damn it.
I can’t afford this.
Joanie already got in. That alone terrifies me more than I want to admit. Letting anyone else in? It’s a risk I swore I’d never take again.
Not after Mark.
Joanie’s still staring at me, hands on her hips now. “Are you seriously pulling this lone-wolf shit?”
“I need to finish this. I need to make sure.”
She scoffs. “No, you want to finish it. Big difference. He’s gone, Lyla. You need to let him go and live your life. Or at least the best you can in this shithole.”
“You don’t get it.” She doesn’t understand that he will come for them all if I don’t stop him. Da Vinci doesn’t take kindly to people who best him.
She steps back. “You said we were in this together. You dragged me into your world and now you’re ready to dump me to chase some psycho ghost while I ride off with strangers?”
“I want you to stay and help me. I’m not dumping you.”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing.” Her voice cracks. “And I can’t do this again with you. You almost fucking died, Lyla, and I’m not going to stick around and watch it again.”
My chest constricts like a vise. “Joanie—”
“No.” She holds up a hand, her chin trembling but high. “I’m not asking for your permission. I’m going.”
She’s going. They all are.
And da Vinci . . . he’s not going to let this go. They beat him. They humiliated him. He’ll want revenge, and he’ll come for them whether I’m with them or not.
I could tell them. Warn them that he’s still alive. That he’ll be hunting us. But I know what Jacob will do—he’ll pack up, change direction, scatter the group, and make sure da Vinci never finds them again.
And I’ll lose him. Lose my shot at finishing this for good.
If I stay behind and miss him, he could destroy them before I even get close.
And Joanie, she’ll be on the front line.
I can’t risk that.
“Fine,” I say, voice rough. “I’ll go.”
Joanie freezes midstep. Then she whirls and launches at me with a bone-crushing hug that punches a whimper from my mouth.
“Oh shit! Sorry!” She pulls back with a sheepish grin. “I’m just so happy you’re done being a stubborn dickhead.”
“Ha. Ha. Now go tell Trish and let them know they can pack all the supplies.”
She skips out of the room, already yelling down the hall.
I’ll go. Not to play house. Not to belong. But to keep them safe. To make sure when he shows up—and he will—I’ll be there, waiting.