Chapter 22
Rest in Peace
Cam
“Two more!”
Cam checked one of the classrooms used as sleeping rooms. “Clear,” he said and shut the door. Thank God. They’d been moving through the building methodically, helping to send people out the front and back exits.
“Clear,” Key said, closing another door. “How the fuck did this start?”
Jimmy moved out in front of them. “We checked everyone who came inside before dinner, like always.”
“Yeah,” Key muttered. “Katelyn barely checked us over, just chattered away at Dette instead. I should have said something, but I just wanted to get in to find Odie.”
Cam grimaced. “Same. Goddamn it.”
Jimmy’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God.” He wiped a hand across his head. “It could have been anyone, then.”
“Fuck,” Ripper spat, coming up behind them. “I can’t find Jessie!” He tore past Jimmy.
“Wait, Rip!” Cam called then turned to look at Key, whose eyes were filled with sudden horror that went straight to Cam’s bones.
Jessie, who’d been scratching at her lower leg, complaining of an itch.
Chiggers in the tall grass.
Oh God. No.
“We’ve got to find Jessie. Now.” Cam motioned for them to follow Ripper.
Key nodded, teeth bared. “Get back,” she said, holding her machete in both hands and bowing her head like a knight preparing for battle.
Cam shivered. The air changed when Key went berserk, something he had felt even before he knew what it really meant.
In the past few days, she’d told him about Sekhmet, about the possession, but he would never understand it.
Instead, he just got out of her way and watched her back as she began moving through the building, cutting down anything with glowing eyes that lunged or stumbled, letting past the few crying, screaming people, luckily.
Cam hoped there weren’t many more living people trapped inside.
And please let there be no Zs outside with the others.
Key kicked open the door to the gymnasium, and in the center of the wooden floor, where the kids played basketball and dodgeball, was a zombified Jessie on hands and knees, biting into a woman’s stomach.
The victim was Katelyn, he realized—he recognized her green boots.
She was either still alive or beginning to turn, as her fingers were twitching.
Ripper stood to the side, watching the Jessie thing tear into Katelyn, tears streaming down his face, chest heaving.
He wasn’t paralyzed, Cam knew. He was broken. Ripper had undergone more loss and killed more Zs than any of them, despite being not even twenty years old, but losing Jessie like this—when they should have known something was wrong, when they should have checked—was too much.
Key, back to herself now, stepped forward, but Cam put an arm out to stop her. “Let Ripper do this.”
Ripper turned to them and shook his head. “I can’t. Please.” Humbly, numbly, he looked at them, awash in grief. “Please, Key. Please give her peace.”
The Z looked up at them and snarled. Cam didn’t let himself flinch away from the sight of Jessie’s familiar face contorted into a bloody mask of death, eyes blazing red with hunger and hate in the dim lamplight.
Key charged at the zombie as it gathered itself to leap at them, and with one blow from Key’s machete, Jessie was no longer undead but at peace—Cam hoped.
Key stood, breathing hard, all her battle-readiness gone, leaving her looking tired and sad, and when Katelyn’s corpse opened its red eyes, she drove her machete into its skull before it could rise.
Cam went to Jessie’s body and pulled up her pant leg. Sure enough, there was the bite, at least a day old.
“Damn it,” he breathed. Then he stood, went to Ripper, and put a hand on his shoulder. “My God. I’m so sorry.”
Ripper shook his head, tears still clogging his throat when he said, “I should have known. I should have...”
“And we should have made sure someone really checked all of us before we came through the fence.” We got complacent. We got lazy. We should have called out Katelyn, reminded her of the danger. Cam shook his head. “Not your fault.” No. It’s all our fault. Every one of us.
Then they heard screams, and all three of them raced out into the hall.
Jimmy, who’d been watching the door to the gym, had been attacked by one of the younger children, now a zombie.
Cam dispatched the zombie, trying desperately to think of it as just another Z and not as the kid he’d seen playing tag in the grass, but it was too late for Jimmy, who was gasping around a torn throat.
His eyes, already beginning to darken with malevolence, met Cam’s.
“Jimmy.” His eyes smarting, Cam quickly put his friend to rest. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”
When he looked up again, Key was running to the back entrance, and Cam grabbed Ripper and headed to the front. When they came out, they saw Dette, and she checked them both—carefully this time. They didn’t talk, not yet. It was not the time to share the enormity of their losses.
When she was done, Cam asked, “Where’s Allie?”
“She grabbed her machete and went to the back,” Dette said. “Go! I’ve got Ripper.”
Gunshots rang out from the roof as Cam ran around the building, his heart pounding. Please let me get to her... Please let her be safe...
He saw Katelyn’s husband running toward him. “Cameron! Have you seen Kate? She was inside, and—”
Cam stopped to take Barry by the arm. “I’m so sorry, man. She’s gone.”
Barry’s mouth formed a silent O, and then he shook his head. “No.”
So much death. So much waste. “I tried to help her. She’s at rest now.”
Barry’s face crumpled, but after a moment, he nodded.
“Go around to the front—Dette is helping everyone get organized and do a head count.”
When Cam rounded the corner, he was met with the aftermath of a fight, several dead Zs on the ground.
“Allie,” he called. Panic bloomed in his chest. Breathe. The devastated look on Barry’s face swam before his mind’s eye. Ripper’s tears. Not Allie too.
He saw Key talking to two people then motioning for them to go help others.
“Allie!” He couldn’t stop the near-shriek.
Key turned toward him, looking haggard. “Cam, honey. She’s okay.”
He looked around. Where?
Then he heard, “Cam!” and suddenly, there was Allie, coming toward him—was she running too fast?
No. Not a zombie, just Allie.
They met in a hug, breathing hard, both of them too in shock to use words. Cam pulled away after a moment to give her a once-over before bringing her back to him again, relieved when her arms squeezed him tight.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, the words rusty with fear.
“No, I’m okay.” She gulped in air and pressed herself to him. “But we need to go help the others.”
Cam swallowed hard and forced himself to let her go.
Hand in hand, they walked back to help and to support Key as she told the rest of the survivors the truth—that their group had brought a Bitten into their sanctuary.
In the cleanup, which extended into the early morning, there were sixteen bodies to bury outside the walls, including Jessie’s and Jimmy’s.
Cam and Allie joined in to treat minor injuries and pass out water bottles.
They recounted the living and the dead. They identified the bodies, made markers for them.
Then they carried the bodies outside the fences into the surrounding fields to be buried.
The noise and activity had attracted Zs, but only a few—the area was relatively clean as a matter of course. But where humans went, zombies generally followed, Cam reflected bitterly. Nowhere was truly safe. Not anymore.
Four of the dead had been children.
Cam tried not to think about the face of the child Z he’d put down inside. Those small bodies were the most difficult ones to bury, other than Jessie’s. Ripper dug her grave himself and stood silent while Key and Odette gave Jessie a eulogy and the rest of them wept.
God, poor Ripper. He was finally starting to let himself be happy.
After the burials, Gray offered medicine to anyone who needed it, and everyone split up to try to get some rest as the sun began to rise. A few went back inside to sleep, since the rooms had been cleared and cleaned. Some camped inside the fence. No one talked much.
Cam saw at least two groups packing up to leave immediately. He caught Key’s eye and gestured to the folks who were taking off without checking in, as was the usual routine.
“It’s their choice,” she said, her voice dull. “I can’t blame them.”
Cam laid his bedroll in the shade of the building, unable to bear the thought of going back inside. Allie and Cam lay together beneath a blanket they didn’t need, holding each other. Cam couldn’t sleep, but he was hoping Allie would.
Hours later, those who were left gathered outside.
There was no trading and not much talk, either, except for terse updates on the settlements in different areas and the addition of new landmarks to maps.
Ordinarily, Cam would have been excited to share the info on the bunker and the Ford, even if most of the groups here were based in central Missouri, but the news had lost all its luster in the wake of so much death.
And finally, unsurprisingly, they all came to a grim agreement to adhere more stringently to strip-search protocols.
As things began to break up, Key reminded everyone to resupply before they headed out and added, “Our group is heading to the Plant, if anyone else would like to travel with us or if anyone has anything they need to send that way.” The response was muted, but Key added, “Full disclosure, we’re having to travel slower than usual, so our estimated arrival there is tomorrow evening. ”
That wasn’t a shocker. With their supplies and equipment, their group wasn’t exactly built for speed to begin with.
People murmured amongst themselves rather than answering Key directly.
Goddamn it.
Their group had a reputation—they carried messages and packages, delivered medical supplies, provided traveling medical services.
Other survivors trusted them. Looked up to them, even.
They were known for making it safely to their destinations and always welcoming travelers to join them along the way.
In one night, that reputation had been torn to shreds.
Key seemed to be realizing that too. “I can’t tell you how sorry we are for not making sure our friend wasn’t infected before we arrived here,” she said, her voice low but strong.
“We will never let that happen again. I hope we will see you all down the road and back here next month. If not, we’ll understand. Stay safe out there, everyone.”
Some people left without acknowledging Key’s words. Others nodded, and at least two came up to say a few words to her and give her a hug. Two people gave Key what looked like letters to carry. That was something, at least. Some trust still remained.
When Key stood alone, her shoulders began to sag a little. Odette went up to put a hand on Key’s arm and give her a kiss, then she drew Key into an embrace.
“Cam,” Allie said from beside him. “Should we go talk to Key?”
He shook his head. “Let Dette handle her for now.”
As Barry’s group left, Cam lifted one hand in a silent farewell. After a second, Barry raised his hand in answer before turning and moving out.
One night, so much loss.
Cam’s heart ached so deeply that he had to rub one hand over it. How many of these people, their friends and comrades, would be missing next month—not because they’d been killed or turned but because they no longer trusted the Armory?
Because they no longer trusted his family?
While they packed up to leave, Allie paused. “I think Morrigan is going to be mad at me again,” she said quietly. “And she’s right to be.”
“Why?”
“She told me to keep you with me, but I didn’t.”
Cam took her in his arms. “I would’ve stayed with you if you’d said the word.”
“I couldn’t stop you from going in with Key,” Allie said against his shoulder. “It felt selfish. Cowardly.”
Cam rubbed her back. “Not that.”
“Then she told me to run, to get away from the building, but I felt like I had to help.”
“I can’t blame her,” he admitted. “I would have told you to run if I thought you’d listen.”
She held him tighter.
“Would you feel better if you talked to Key about it?” He wanted Key and Allie to support each other—the Goddesses-Talk-to-Me Club, Allie had told him. He’d felt somewhat excluded at the time, foolishly, but now he was fiercely glad neither of them carried that burden alone.
“I will,” she said, pulling back a little but staying in the circle of his arms. “But... not for a bit. I don’t want to lay that on her too.”
Cam nodded, swallowing hard, trying to think of how to help. “Should you make Morrigan an offering before we leave?”
Allie sighed. “I’m going to.” She looked back at the building and the people preparing to leave it, all in an eerie silence compared to the joy and bustle of the day before, making Cam’s heart ache all over again. “But I don’t think beans are going to be enough this time.”