Chapter 22
Kate
No matter how much I try to figure her out, Jordan remains a mystery to me. She must have experienced something too painful to discuss, which makes her shy away from me. She gives me bits and pieces of herself, but I never get everything.
Granted, she only gets bits and pieces of me, too. There’s a lot about me she doesn’t know.
Does she need to? We’re unlikely allies, travel partners. She demanded that deal where I come back and stay with her, but who knows if that’s really what she’ll want once everyone is cured.
I puzzle over it as we eat in silence. I’d like to think things wouldn’t be complicated between us, but this has been complicated since the moment she knocked me from my horse. This was always going to be complex.
Chewing over my dinner, I consider how I’d like to be treated if I were in her position. Would I want to be pushed to share, or is it better to let me come forward when I’m ready? I think about how being pushed to share about Harry would piss me off.
A little sigh escapes me as I decide to leave it alone. If Jordan wants to share, she can; demanding it of her wouldn’t be fair.
Her eyebrows raise. I watch her tongue glide over the tip of her fangs absentmindedly, which heats my blood. I shrug and look away before she can figure out that she’s the one catching my attention, plaguing my thoughts.
I settle into my seat and peer around the room, finally paying attention to the space we’ve taken up. This house, unlike others, seems to be in less disrepair. There aren’t any photographs on the wall, no indication that raiders swept through and took anything. The house is relatively bare.
“When we go into these different houses, do you ever think about who used to live in them?”
Still eyeing me, she answers, “No. Is it relevant to us?”
“I guess not. Maybe I’m just curious.”
“You’re always curious. Bordering on nosey.”
That makes my lips curl up. “Yeah, I am. That’s probably how I wound up working on this team.
I’ve always had a thirst for knowledge, regardless of the subject matter.
” My eyes pass around the empty room. “And I rarely mind my own business. For example, this house looks barely touched. There are no personal items, no art, no signs of raiders. The only sign of anyone being here is the boarded-up windows. It makes me think whoever lived here must not have stayed for long. Maybe they were new homeowners.”
“Or newlyweds.”
I look at Jordan, a bit surprised to see her indulging me. “Exactly. Or maybe they were moving away from here and were preparing the house for its next owners. One can only hope that’s what happened.”
Jordan opens her mouth to speak, but we’re interrupted by the sound of helicopters overhead. We both race to the house’s front windows, peeking through breaks in the slats nailed to the windows.
Two helicopters pass over us, heading to the city. We watch silently as they fly past.
“It’s dark,” I murmur. “It’s not safe for anyone in the zones to grab supplies now. Why are they dropping it at night? And why so few helicopters?”
In the beginning, dozens of helicopters would drop supplies nearly every day for us. Shipments have been waning, forcing us to push further away from the safety of the zones. Putting us at risk of infection.
“They don’t care,” Jordan spits, shocking me with her venom. “They don’t give a shit about us. Still sending supplies is probably to protect their public image.”
“You think?” I wonder aloud.
Our government’s corruption ran deep, this country built on the backs of the vulnerable, all to aid in lining the wealthy’s pockets. Once the outbreak occurred, we foolishly thought our leaders would rush to help.
Instead of trying to actually help us, they cut us off from the rest of the world.
“Or it’s to monitor us,” she muses, “to see if we’re still standing.”
We move away from the window and back into the dining room, sitting down in silence. I can’t help the irritation that snakes around me, at how callous our leaders are, leaving us for dead here.
“Do you think what the government told us is true? That the virus was contained here?” she asks, which slices through my spiraling thoughts.
“Honestly, I don’t know. How do we know they were able to stop every plane, every boat?”
“The military killed a lot of people that day,” Jordan counters with an edge in her voice.
“They did.” I shudder at the memories that flit across my mind.
“So you think there are others that are infected on the mainland?”
I hesitate. Logically, I know the infection could’ve spread to the mainland, despite the propaganda we’ve been fed that it’s contained here. There’s no possible explanation as to how our government leaders could have stopped it.
Unless they knew about the virus beforehand and took secret precautions. I shake my head, trying to dislodge the thought. I don’t want to put on a tinfoil hat.
“It’s possible,” I hedge, not wanting to go down this path.
“Do you ever wonder if they’ve found a cure already?”
I shake my head. “To not even tell us that they have a cure would be counter intuitive. Why hide that? They could cure all the infected and make themselves look like the heroes. No, I don’t think they’ve created one.”
Jordan’s eyes sear into mine, the red rings near-glowing in the darkness wrapping around us. What used to frighten me now makes me feel on edge in a new way. I find myself looking at her, watching her, noticing the way her arm muscles move and how her hair sways in the breeze—
“None of us are virologists,” I blurt out, desperate to distract myself from thinking about her in that way.
“Not even Dr. Parker. I was studying epidemiology in college when the outbreak happened.” I scoff.
“I’m not qualified to do what we’re doing.
None of us are, except for Parker and Taylor—they have medical backgrounds, at least.
“People weren’t prepared to survive, but some of us adapted. My roommate, Michelle, isn’t a trained sniper; her dad taught her how to shoot a gun once, and she happened to be a good shot. And Sal—” A lump forms in my throat. “He taught fourth grade English.”
“What about Parker?”
“He’s a doctor, but more internal medicine, I think.” My brain sorts through interactions with him, discussing his credentials. “Or maybe he was a cardiologist. I’m struggling to remember now—it’s been a while since we’ve talked about it.”
“How did you all start working on a vaccine?” Jordan prods.
“Parker rallied us. Everyone was desperate to wake up from this nightmare, but we were skeptical it could be done. We were in the labs where the infection began, and it freaked some people out. Eventually, we realized we had everything we needed to start.” I sigh, moving to sit back down on the firm couch.
“Why are you so enamored with this man?” she growls.
I bark out an incredulous laugh. “I’m not.
It isn’t about him. I would work with whoever it was that stepped up and could get us moving.
” The look in her eye says she doesn’t believe me.
I huff, “All I care about is figuring out a way out of this—for everyone. If it was anyone else, I would follow them, too.”
“You sound like a zealot.”
“I do not.” My tone betrays my defensiveness.
She shakes her head. “You do. What about what the others you’re working with are doing? What about what you’re doing?”
“It’s a team effort,” I argue. “But I’m not the most important player on the team. If Taylor were leading us, I’d follow them, but they aren’t. Parker is, and he’s the closest we’ve gotten to figuring this all out.”
“Which is nearly nowhere,” she grumbles.
My stomach goes sour. “You don’t even believe in any of this, so why are we talking about it?”
Her eyes widen in disbelief. “Because we’re trekking our asses all the way back into the city for this. The least you can do is be honest about it.”
Harry’s face pops into my head, making my heart squeeze.
“Look,” I sigh, feeling depleted as irritation shifts to sadness. “I’m not the most experienced on the team. Sometimes, I don’t even understand what’s happening, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to help. So I keep showing up, keep volunteering for extra work…I just keep going.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t stop,” I admit. “Stopping for a second means I have to think about every horrible thing that’s happened—that’s continuing to happen—and I can’t live like that.
I’d never get out of bed.” I let out a shallow breath.
“I have to ignore my emotions, ignore how fucked up everything was and how it feels like there’s no end in sight.
I push them down, shove them into a little box inside myself until I’m shoving myself away. ”
A small, deranged laugh winds up my throat. “Is that what surviving is? Forcing ourselves to put one foot in front of the other, ignoring ourselves so we can keep going?”
Jordan’s face grows somber. “You deserve more than that.”
I roll my eyes. “Without a cure, there’s no living how we want. We’re stuck.”
She falls silent, not bothering to argue against the truth. I feel exposed, ripped open, sharing how fucked up and useless I am. I stare straight ahead, looking at nothing, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on me—
“I’m sorry.”
Her words bring me back from the brink. “For what?”
“You’re right, I’m skeptical of a vaccine, of a cure. But I’m not an expert and I haven’t been working on it the way you have.” I open my mouth to remind her I’m not an expert, either, but she continues, “Stop cheapening yourself. I’m sure you’ve been instrumental to them.”
I want to curl into a ball and forget this entire conversation. “I get why you’re skeptical,” I admit. “I feel like that sometimes, too.”
Sharing that out loud feels sacrilege, but it’s true. I want the vaccine so badly, but sometimes, it feels like we’re not getting anywhere.
“Everything is fucked up,” Jordan mutters as an olive branch.
I snort, pushing away my concerns, my fears. For the time being. “Understatement of a lifetime.”
The tension between us eases, and we give one another hesitant smiles.
“I don’t think we need to do this.”
“We do, Kate. Believe me.”
“I don’t even smell like anything,” I try to argue.
“You do.” Something akin to hunger lights Jordan’s features for a moment before it’s gone, leaving nothing but exasperation. “Please, get in the tub.”
My eyes dart to the bathtub now full of clean water. “Was this potential drinking water we’re wasting?”
Jordan rolls her eyes. “No. Just get in.”
I worry my bottom lip, weighing my options. Jordan is right in that our luck will soon run out. But how does she know this is the way to better protect me?
I’m busy puzzling over whether this one act is worth future safety when I feel her hands tugging at my waistband. I yelp and scurry away from her, ears burning.
“Okay, fine! But turn around. And don’t look at me while you do it!”
She huffs in annoyance before throwing her hands up. “Fine,” she mutters, giving me her back.
I strip quickly and nearly jump into the tub, my hands going to cover my private areas. The water is lukewarm—not helping me relax in any way. “Okay, let’s get this over with.” Jordan turns, her eyes immediately zeroing in on me. “Hey! I said no looking.”
She shakes her head, grumbling under her breath that sounds an awful lot like naughty brat before she prowls behind me. I place my back against the tub as she kneels behind me.
I hold my breath, waiting for that physical contact, but nothing happens for a few moments. “Um—”
“Just a second,” she grits out before clearing her throat.
Then her hands are on me, a small cloth the only barrier between our skin. Her touch is warm, warmer than any non-infected would be. She starts at my neck, swiping up and down my jugular softly before dipping to my collarbones.
“I’ll need your arms,” she mutters.
My face is burning up, but I reluctantly let go of myself so she can rub my skin. I stare straight ahead as she keeps going, her hand getting awfully close to my chest.
I bite my lip as her fingers brush against my nipple before dipping to my stomach. Her face comes next to mine, her breath tickling my ear as she dips further south.
“Is this good?”
“Uhmm-hmm.” My voice is breathy as she strokes along my hips.
“While I don’t want to hide your perfect scent, I can’t wait for you to smell of me,” she pants, as if she’s holding herself back.
My toes curl when her fingers find themselves nearing the apex of my thighs. Desire whispers to me, my head falling back as her fingers skate over me. Her touch is featherlight, and I find myself tilting my hips to greet her.
This is wrong, so wrong, but as she skims between my legs, an ache builds. I need something, anything—
“Perfect, so perfect,” she groans.
I’m unsure if she’s talking to me or to herself, but I don’t even care.
She presses down right where I want her, where I need her. Arousal blooms in my stomach as her fingers caress my clit. I grind into her hand, letting myself feel for the first time in a long time—
A cracking sound fills the air, startling me. Jordan’s hand disappears, and I spin around to find she’s cracked the lip of the tub with her idle hand.
We stare at the crack, both of us breathing heavily, before our eyes lock.
She swallows, her eerie eyes wide as she gasps out, “I think that’s enough for today.”
I nod, worried my voice will betray me. I suddenly feel too exposed, too vulnerable. My hands go up to cover my chest. Jordan darts from the room, leaving me to stare after her, struggling to shove these warring feelings into the back of my mind.