Chapter 24
Jordan
Kate is near-silent today, which has me on-edge. Did she somehow find out what I’d done last night? She looked like she was asleep, but maybe that was my mind playing a trick on me.
But she hasn’t brought it up, so either she doesn’t know, or she doesn’t want to say anything.
We left in the early morning, quickly pulling ourselves together and heading out.
I knew this was going to be a wild-goose chase; I’ve been skeptical that a cure can even exist in the first place. But her insistence that it’s real has started to sway me. Started to make me feel…hope.
I watch her move, her hair tied back in a braid, her freckles more prominent in the sunlight. I thought last night would get rid of the ache, but it’s only made it worse.
It’s wrong of me to even think about this, let alone consider doing it again. Sarah’s face flickers in my mind, and the well of shame I keep deep within me threatens to flood my system.
Sarah’s dead, the beast reminds me, but all it does is make me feel worse.
Yeah, she’s dead because she got bitten. And I had to be the one to shoot her.
If what Kate claims is right—if I have a variant of the virus, it’s possible others do, too. Meaning Sarah could have contracted the same variant as me, and she could still be alive.
Something in my chest cracks as I realize I may have killed her for nothing.
She’d be infected, but at least she’d still be alive.
But what about the alternative, that she didn’t contract the same variant?
Then she’d be stuck in her body, watching it devour others with no way out. The idea of her having to exist like that makes me feel even worse.
I can’t handle these thoughts, these feelings. There’s no point, anyway.
My thoughts war with one another as we move closer to the mountains, shifting to another worry.
As we get closer, Kate will see what has haunted me all this time. I don’t know if I’ll survive that.
Maybe she’ll see it and be disgusted with me. Maybe then these inappropriate thoughts will go away.
Abandoned apartment buildings come into view, and I try to shove the sickening anxiety away. Turning my head to Kate, I say, “We should stop for the night.”
Her eyes lock with mine, a bit of a startled expression on her face, but it smooths out quickly, replaced by her usual inquisitive disposition. “Where to?”
I jerk my head to the apartments.
She looks at it, a calculated look crossing her face before she shrugs. “Sure, why not.”
We make our way to the entrance to find the door locked.
“Huh,” Kate comments. “Maybe we could try a window—”
I reel my fist back and slam it through the glass. It shatters upon impact, dancing in the air before landing inside the dark lobby.
“That was unnecessary,” she chides from behind me as I reach in and unlock the door, the sound of blood dripping reaching my ears. “You’re injured. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I pause in the lobby, listening for any infected. Hearing none, I spot the stairwell and stride toward it.
“Hey!” Kate shouts, trying to keep pace with me. “Did you not hear me? I said—”
I spin on her. “I heard you, but it’s not necessary.”
“Your hand is covered in blood.” She points to my blood-soaked fingers dangling at my side.
I shrug, wanting to avoid her touch right now. “It’s fine. Let’s keep moving.” I turn before she can press the issue, pulling the stairwell door open and peeking my head through.
Dead infected litter the stairs. “Get your gun out,” I command in a low voice. “There may be some still alive in here.”
I hear her remove the gun from its holster before we enter the space.
Slowly but surely, we maneuver around the dead. Some are clustered together; some are draped over multiple stairs.
“They must have tried to evacuate,” Kate whispers. “Maybe an infected was already here.”
“And the building locked them in,” I wonder aloud. I try not to wince at the sight of a small child with a bullet wound through its skull. “Looks like the military swooped in and killed everyone after the fact. Why else would they all be dead?”
“The virus won’t keep you alive forever,” she notes as we keep climbing. “It tries to keep you alive for as long as possible, but eventually, the body can’t withstand the damage. It’s possible they were all killed by the military, but I bet some died from the infection itself.”
Worry snakes up my spine at her words. I’ve seen plenty of dead infected before but had never stopped to consider the cause. I assumed a survivor had done it.
If what Kate is saying is true, the virus will eventually kill everyone.
Including me.
Maybe that would be a blessing.
We reach the top floor without spotting a live infected. Picking a door, I shove it open, scanning the empty apartment before nodding Kate in.
We stand in silence for a moment before Kate reaches for me. I flinch, unsure of what she’s doing, until she gently lifts my bloody hand to inspect. “Sit,” she demands. “I’ll clean this up.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine.”
“I said sit.” Her tone makes it clear she’s not interested in arguing.
I could fight her on it, could tell her to mind her own business, but for whatever reason, I don’t.
Instead, I find myself turning and sitting on the couch.
Jordan gives me a tentative smile before shucking off her backpack and rummaging around for her medical supplies.
She pulls them free and lays them out next to me before turning her attention to my hand.
A look of concentration comes over her as she works, removing shards of glass and disinfecting the cuts.
The beast growls at the sting of the antiseptic, and I grind my teeth.
I refuse to look at my hand, the sight of blood threatening to upset my stomach.
Even though I’ve ripped into people and killed animals, the sight of my own blood still makes me queasy.
She makes quick work of the bandage, wrapping it snug but not tight enough to be uncomfortable. “Done. See, wasn’t so bad.”
I lift my hand to inspect it, twisting it back and forth. “Nice work.”
She shrugs off the praise. “You get used to bandaging wounds.”
“You do,” I agree.
Her eyes hold mine for a moment, the air between us becoming charged. She inhales sharply and blinks a few times, as if coming back to herself, before murmuring, “Um, should we get ready for the night?”
The thought of showing her what I need to has my stomach in knots.
Anxiety keeps me from speaking much as we set up for the night, our meal eaten in silence. Kate doesn’t push, doesn’t seem upset that I’m stuck in my own thoughts. She falls asleep quickly while I sit beside her, letting my nerves eat me alive.
The sunrise dances along my skin as I slowly wake up. I must have dozed at some point, my body slumped in my seated position. Cracking my neck and stretching, I wake Kate, knowing now is the perfect time for her to see. “Can I show you something?”
Her bleary eyes blink at me, but she nods. Taking her hand, I lead us from the apartment and into the hall, guiding us to the roof.
I push the door open, the hinges creaking as I go. We step out to see the city’s skyline and shut the door behind us.
“It would be beautiful if it wasn’t so haunting,” Kate notes, and I nod.
“We’re nearly at the mountains.” I twist to look at the mountain range not far from us. “Soon, we’ll be back in the city.”
“You said you wanted to show me something.”
I clear my throat and point at the mountains. “These mountains are both the safest and the most dangerous place for non-infected.”
“Why?” Her brows furrow.
Part of me regrets this already. But she should see it, she should know what is happening.
“We know the infected love the dark. That’s why being underground in the city is a terrible idea. But what about those out here, who can’t hide below?” I look to one of the many caves in the side of the rock. “Watch.”
Kate props her elbows on the roof wall, scanning the mountains. “I don’t see anything.”
“Just wait.”
The sun slowly rises, the weak rays bouncing off the mountainside.
I’m too anxious to say anything, to even breathe too loudly.
Shame bubbles in my chest, looking for a way out.
It’s as if I’m exposing a part of myself that I never want anyone to see—the part of me that was sick with the virus, watching my body move without my control.
And I’m letting Kate see that.
She doesn’t push back, doesn’t sneer that this is a waste of time. Instead, she keeps her eyes trained on the mountains.
Until the first infected staggers to the cave. Followed by another, then another. Until the horde disappears.
“Oh my god,” she breathes, watching dozens and dozens of infected flock to the mountain, unaware of us six stories above. “Why are they all going into that one cave?”
I can’t tell if there’s disgust or judgment in her voice. “The infected go into caves in the early morning and all cluster together. I don’t know how they even know how to do it, but they do. That’s where…they sleep and hide from the sun.”
I did it too.
She looks at me, and her eyes hold no disgust. Only…concern. “Have you ever been in there?”
I nearly choke out the word, “Yes.”
Her face crumples. “I’m so sorry, Jordan. How horrible that must have been, to be crowded down there with so many people.” She gives a small shudder.
“I—” I don’t know what I want to say. It feels like I took the ugliest part of me and showed it to her, and instead of telling me she agrees, she apologized for my having to experience that. “It’s fine,” I say a bit too gruffly.
She looks back where the horde now hides. “There’s so much we still don’t know about the virus. I doubt we’ll ever understand it completely.”
Her words have an ominous tone that sits like a pit in my stomach.
“Maybe,” I force out, because she’s right.
It’s too much of a reminder. I crane my neck, my eyes taking in early morning sky above us, large, fluffy clouds rolling past as the pale moon sits in the distance.
Kate hums, and I peek over to see her looking up, too. “To see so much beauty up there, and so much horror below while we’re stuck in the middle, is difficult to comprehend.”
I study her long eyelashes, each freckle on her face. “It is,” I find myself saying.
While Kate studies the sky, I stare at her, letting myself get lost in this moment, even as the world continues to turn below us.