Chapter 14
Exposure Therapy
Cam
“These instructions are insane.” Cam bared his teeth in a grimace as he turned to the next page of the booklet then back again. “How does that Part D attach to this Part E?”
Thanks to Morrigan’s help, Allie had led them to a bike shop in town, one that was both blessedly clear of Zs and stocked with quality mountain bikes. Luckily, the shop also had large functional baskets and racks to attach to said bikes.
The add-ons were great, sure, but they were proving to be a bitch to install.
Cam had never seen such wonky instructions in his life. He gritted his teeth when he saw that the next step involved a Part G. What about Part F? “Seriously?”
Allie came back in from the storeroom. “I found these,” she offered. “Electric motors for the back tires. I’m not sure exactly how they’re supposed to work, but there’s a small solar panel. I think we should take them.”
“Anything solar is worth our time,” Cam said then grunted as he tried to screw in Part E. He beckoned her closer and handed her the booklet. “Help me out. My eyes are starting to go crossed.”
Over the next fifteen minutes or so, they worked together to get the baskets onto the bike frames.
Allie had chosen a silver mountain bike—simple but rugged, easy for a beginner.
Cam had chosen a black all-terrain bike with more bells and whistles, one very like the bike he’d had to ditch weeks before.
Between the two of them, Allie and Cam finally finished the job.
“Christ, I’m sweaty,” Cam muttered, standing up and wiping his brow. “Save me from fucking bicycle accessories.”
Allie grinned at him slyly. “So I guess I can’t get you to add the big honky clown horn onto mine?”
He rolled his eyes. “Let’s check out those solar things you found.”
Cam perused the parts of the motors while Allie opened the instruction booklets.
Great. More instructions.
“Apparently, these motors can charge via the solar panels and peddling,” Allie said, flipping a page. “Probably why they were the most expensive ones.” She showed him the diagrams for the motor mount and the handlebar controls.
Cam perused them and nodded, his mood lightening.
“That’s actually doable.” The solar panel attached to the motor seemed too small to do much, but if it worked in conjunction with friction to charge the electric motor, they’d have some juice every day.
The option of having a small, quiet motor to take some of the strain off constant biking was enticing, even if it only worked for a short time.
“Should we go ahead and attach them now?” Allie said, still scanning the pages. “It seems like it won’t take long.”
Cam snorted. “Yeah, it always seems like that.”
She grinned at him again, big brown eyes twinkling. “Poor handy-Cam.”
God, she was cute. “Well, I guess we could go ahead and try attaching them now, while we’ve got access to all the tools here.” Cam turned to look at the rest of the store, but then movement from the huge plate-glass window to the front caught his eye.
They’d been working with their backs to the storefront, and sometime during the process, they’d acquired an audience.
The breath left his lungs in a silent gust, his whole body tensing. Four zombies, maybe five, moved languidly on the other side of the glass, their white, staring eyes locked on the humans inside.
This wasn’t the first time Cam had seen Zs in or near this town.
While they were still driving that morning, they’d passed a few stragglers lurching in the distance and some near the side of the road.
But that had been different—not because of the relative safety of the truck but because of the small number of zombies.
The Z-terror wasn’t as bad for him as it was for others, but he would never get used to the numbing dread it brought.
Fear had always been something for him to conquer. As a kid, he’d been afraid of the dark, afraid of death after his mother died. Then he’d been afraid of his dad’s anger and large fists. The cruel way in which those two weapons were used against him.
Cam had forced himself past those fears. Later, he’d found out that what he’d done was called “exposure therapy,” although there wasn’t much therapeutic in the memory of being seven years old, missing your mother, and forcing yourself to leave your lamp off because you had to get used to the dark.
Or forcing yourself to take your father’s abuse without crying or screaming because those reactions were what the asshole wanted.
As an adult, Cam had continued to push himself past fear. The Marines had helped with that. Afraid of heights? Get used to them on the high-ropes courses and climbing walls. Afraid of the ocean? Swim in it every day. Exposure had always made the fear manageable or nonexistent.
Unfortunately, exposure therapy didn’t work with zombies. He could keep moving, keeping fighting, but eventually, the Z-terror would catch up with him, as it had in the safety of the bunker shortly after Allie brought him there.
Zs were a fact of life, and one or two didn’t bother him much—but even after eighteen months, any group of zombies numbering more than four still made his body seize with a wash of numbing terror in the moment and leave him shaking like a leaf once the danger had passed.
There seemed to be no way to fully desensitize himself.
Knowing he wasn’t the only one helped. Key seemed to be far less affected by them, as did Ripper, but the rest of their group experienced the full extent of Z-terror.
Jessie, in particular, felt it keenly, which was why she’d become their primary sniper.
She worked best against Zs from a safe, or at least safer, distance.
That automatic, overwhelming fear galled him.
Jessie had tried hard to overcome it, as had Odette and Gray, but Cam couldn’t understand why exposure therapy didn’t help.
Those few precious seconds when you saw the zombies gathering could mean the difference between life and death.
There was no doubt that on their own, Jessie and Gray would have been toast long before now.
Hell, it was a small miracle that he’d survived on his own after leaving Mother’s Hands. He almost hadn’t.
Cam swallowed, forcing his mouth to move. “Allie.”
“What?” she said, finally glancing up from the booklet. She looked quickly from the expression on his face to the storefront window, and he watched as the terror took over and glazed her eyes a little.
“Angel,” he murmured gently. “We’re going to pack up. We’re going to grab a few helmets. Then we’re going to head out the back, ready to ride. You good for that?”
Her brown eyes wide and a little dazed, she didn’t respond for a moment. He had expected that, so he reached out—his limbs felt heavier than usual—and gently tugged her upper arm. “Allie. Let’s get snacking.” He repeated his instructions. “You with me?”
Allie blinked and shook her head. There she was, back again. Scared, yes, but with him. Able to function.
“Yes,” she said, voice shaky but determined.
They kept their movements as efficient as possible.
They’d brought everything with them just in case, so loading the bikes was a quick process, although it took a few precious moments to find helmets that fit their heads comfortably and leave some of the red beans as tribute to Morrigan.
Cam placed a few beans of his own, and Allie gave him an approving nod that warmed his insides, fighting the chill the Zs had given him.
Still, both of them kept looking back at the window. Were there more undead bodies out there now? Cam forced himself to think about the back entrance.
“We’ll head away from the store,” he murmured to Allie. “Down the driveway back here and then onto a side street.”
She nodded, her expression resolute.
“Packs on,” he said, and they slipped their packs onto their backs, Allie grunting a little as the weight settled onto her back and shoulders.
“Okay?” he asked.
She gave him a thumbs-up. “I can handle it.”
“I’ll go first,” he said, quietly praying to whoever was listening that the back of the store was clear of zombies.
When the door opened, the burst of sunlight blinded him for a moment, but then he could see that their escape route was clear.
He wheeled his bike outside and got on, wincing at the initially clumsy weight of his backpack, then motioned to Allie.
She followed with visible effort, and in seconds, the two of them were slowly but silently riding away from the town and the Zs.
After an hour of biking, Cam finally felt like he’d found his groove again.
He hadn’t been on a bike in far too long—much less one loaded down with this much gear and supplies—so it had been something of an adjustment.
Allie’s labored breaths indicated she was struggling, though, so he made sure they went slow.
Fortunately, they were in a relatively level area, but with the supplies they carried, even a minor incline would feel like biking up the side of Pike’s Peak if all you’d done for a year was ride a stationary bike and walk on a treadmill.
They didn’t talk much, instead focusing on pedaling and dodging minor debris that littered the roadways.
Cam had consulted the map for the best-cleared roads in the area, and he’d seen signs of some barrier work like they’d done up north.
The closest settlements were a bit too far off their planned route to make for easy way stations, though, and that was probably for the best. They needed to keep moving.
Still, Cam monitored Allie closely, her red face and perpetual grimace making him wish he’d installed the solar motors already.
When he called for a break after three hours, they found a quiet spot to sit in the shade, drink water, and eat some jerky. Allie was clearly relieved for a chance to rest but didn’t join in his joking complaints about how sore he was going to be that night. Nor did she utter a word of complaint.