Chapter 18
Jordan
I refuse to feel bad about making Kate kill. We’re going to encounter many infected on this journey, and she needs to be prepared.
Still, I can’t help the uneasiness that swirls in my veins after she basically sprinted from the room and locked herself in another. I can hear her breathing through the wall, so I know she’s physically fine, but she’s obviously upset.
I prepare our dinner quickly, secretly hoping I can use this as a peace offering.
I move about the kitchen, finding a few nice ceramic plates and placing the cooked hare onto one before walking it down the hall.
Once Kate shot the infected, I took the body into their yard, gently depositing them in the grass and placing little rocks around them.
Sarah would do this for any runners who died—if their bodies were salvageable and safe to get to, she would honor them this way. I couldn’t do it for her, so I do it for anyone I can.
I pause outside the second bedroom’s door, listening to Kate’s steady breathing on the other side before slowly opening the door.
She stands with her back to me, staring out the windows that face the yard. She doesn’t turn as I walk in. I clear my throat, awkwardness lodging in my lungs.
“I made the usual,” I attempt to joke, but it falls flat to my ears. She doesn’t even acknowledge me. I place the plate on the nightstand. “Well, I’ll leave you—”
“You took them out to the yard.”
I still, my eyes going to her back. “I did.” “Why?” she asks without turning around.
“Figured you wouldn’t want a dead body decomposing across the hall.”
She shakes her head, her braid swaying with the movement. “But you didn’t have to create a burial site.”
I rub the back of my neck sheepishly. “I guess not,” I offer.
She turns to me, her deep green eyes open, vulnerable. Sad but curious. “You did the same with the one that broke into the house. Why?”
“Because they were someone once.”
“You didn’t do that for the two this morning.”
“I was worried there were more coming. We didn’t have time.”
“They were tied to the bed, like I was.”
Fuck. I hadn’t realized—
“Kate, listen—”
“If you’d bitten me,” she interrupts, “I would’ve been just like them—infected, strapped to a bed, slowly dying. Realistically, every moment we’re together could mean that becomes my fate.”
“No.” I take a step toward her. “I know I haven’t explained it well, but I’m not a risk to you.”
She shakes her head, seeming unconvinced as she turns back to the window.
“Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was so harsh about it. But you do need to be prepared to kill on this journey. We may run into hordes, and you have to be ready to take them down. It’s you against them until there’s a vaccine…or a cure.”
“You can drop the act now; I know you don’t think that will ever happen.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” I sputter, caught off guard by her directness. “Just…I’ll leave you alone for tonight. Please, eat. We’ll move out tomorrow.”
I spin on my heel, the unease I felt now surging into regret.
“I know I said I hate you,” she says to me, making me pause at the door, “but I take that back. I’m upset with you, but I don’t hate you.”
My chest loosens at her words, but I force myself to shut the door behind me.
The evening passes without us speaking. She falls asleep in one bedroom while I toss and turn in the other, fixating on our argument.
I fucked up; I realize that now. I’ve been so obsessed with keeping her safe that I didn’t realize what damage I was doing. I don’t think I could stomach living anymore if she got hurt.
I flip onto my side, the weak sunlight of early morning peeking through the clouds. My mind recalls the moments where Sarah taught me how to survive. She was never cruel; she was patient and understanding, even in the middle of some dire situations.
Unlike me.
This is a terrible idea. I can’t protect Kate, no matter what we do. She needs to be ready for anything, but that doesn’t mean I need to be an asshole about it.
I’m a failure. I deserve to be alone.
My body feels frozen, stuck under the weight of my own self-hatred. Sarah should’ve survived that run. She would’ve handled this situation way better than I can.
I wallow in my self-pity until I hear Kate moving about in the other room. With a sigh, I force myself to get up and leave the confines of the space.
Kate breezes past me without so much as a look, gathering her belongings and shoving them into her backpack. She clearly doesn’t want to speak to me.
So I get myself together quietly, letting the tension between us become the fabric of ourselves, tethering us together.