Chapter 30
Jordan
We pack ourselves up and head out into the cool morning, the mountains standing proudly before us. This is going to be the most difficult part of the journey. We don’t have all the right gear to traverse the mountains, but with winter having passed, I’m hoping the roads aren’t too difficult.
Before the outbreak, tourists used to come to these mountains, marveling at their height and the wilderness it protected. Roads were created that lead through all different areas, even leading to the tip of each mountain.
Their conditions now are unknown.
If we keep to the roads and utilize the regular visitor centers throughout, we should be okay.
Hopefully.
We approach the road leading to the mountain’s entrance and I keep my eyes peeled for any signs of trouble. While it’s light out, and we may not run into any infected, raiders have been rumored to be using the roadways to smuggle goods around the island.
My mind wanders to what we heard on the radio, about the outside world thinking we’re all dead here.
I remember those horrible first days, trying desperately to reach my parents, but no phone calls were coming in or out. As the electrical grid started shutting down, so did my hope of seeing them again. The weight of it kept me in bed for days.
As time went on, I had to stop thinking about them.
Gravel crunches under our boots as we move, stepping over fallen tree branches as we come upon the visitor center.
Kate unholsters her gun as we skulk around, splitting off to cover both sides.
I peek through one of the dirty windows to the interior and see no signs of anyone—no infected, no raiders.
I keep moving, listening for any trouble when Kate and I meet up on the other side.
“Nothing from me,” she informs me, and I nod.
We make our way to the door, and I shove it open with my shoulder, the lock giving way under the force.
Kate and I waste no time setting ourselves up for the night; we’ve done this enough times now that we’re a well-oiled machine.
After we settle in, we sit on the floor across from one another, the air becoming hot.
Now that I’ve had her, it’s like I’ve doused my desire in kerosene, the flames spreading like wildfire.
From the glassy look in her eye as she observes me, I think she feels the same.
So I don’t stop myself from getting on all fours and prowling over to her.
“Lie down,” I croon, ready to devour her.
Instead of doing what she’s told, a tiny look of defiance enters her gaze. “I want to try something else first.”
I blink at her, my muscles locking, fighting my baser instincts to rip her clothes off. “And what is that?”
Kate reaches for me, gripping my hand. I fight the urge to flinch away from her touch.
“I want to touch you.”
Bodies crammed together, snarls and whines fill the air—
“I can’t,” I grit out, wrangling myself free of her.
She doesn’t give up. “Jordan, please.” Her hand comes toward me, looking for purchase. The stench of those bodies, shoved into the space fills my nostrils. “No,” I snarl, my hand whipping out and gripping her wrist. “Did you not hear me? I said I can’t.”
Her face shifts from confusion to pain. “Jordan, you’re hurting me,” she whimpers.
My eyes dart down to her wrist that I seem to be squeezing. I release her immediately, and she cradles her wrist to her chest. Shame slides through my veins like oil.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out. Sitting back on my haunches, I try to put some space between us, but it doesn’t seem like enough.
I’m losing control. I need to get away from her, so I can pull myself together. I rush out of the room, gulping down air, trying to calm my thumping heart.
The evening air wraps around me, cooling my overheated skin. I lean into it, letting it chill me, taking me far away from my thoughts.
I grip my head as I pace back and forth.
“I’m not there, I’m not there.”
Aggravation slithers up my spine. I shared this secret with her, this shame—why is it still affecting me? I want it to go away.
Pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes until they burn, I drop to the ground, focusing on the sensations around me. Cool air. Hands against my face. Birds chirping.
I feel something flutter against my arm and I nearly swat it away without looking, but I freeze when I find a small butterfly has landed on me. I grit my teeth against the crashing wave of despair.
“I know,” I whine to her.
Sarah takes off, not wanting to hear my excuses.
As the fear of the cave leaves me, I’m left with both guilt and embarrassment. I shouldn’t have reacted like that—she merely caught me off guard, and that doesn’t excuse my behavior. I need to apologize, but I don’t get up for a bit longer, letting the earth around me keep me grounded.