Chapter 42
Jordan
The windows of this apartment are broken, letting the morning spring air whistle through the unit. Kate ignores the upturned furniture, the dried blood on the walls and floor, making her way to the windows and halts at the edge.
My heart pounds, part of me worried she’s going to jump. I maneuver around the wreckage to her side to find her staring down at something.
Following her gaze, I spot them.
A small group of infected meander about listlessly. If I had to guess, most of them have been infected for a year or so.
“He’s never out in the morning,” Kate notes, her voice heavy. “I’ve only ever seen him out at night.”
I open my mouth to ask why she’s brought me here, but she points to the group below. “The one in the ripped jeans and hoodie.”
“Who is he?” I ask, already dreading the answer. He looks to be a teenager.
“My brother.” Her voice is so small, so full of sadness, it twists my stomach.
“He got infected about a year ago.” She shakes her head, her heartache etched into her features, into her very essence.
“I wasn’t there—I was told after the fact.
Our relationship struggled after our parents died, after everything happened.
He started wandering off, would disappear and not tell me where he was going.
We were constantly fighting, me trying to be a stand-in parent while he was trying to be an adult.
“The messenger told me he was bitten, trying to steal goods from a raider camp. A horde had broken through and attacked him, killing at least ten people. I didn’t believe them at first, demanding to know where it happened.
I went searching for him, against everyone’s better judgment, but I had to know the truth.
So I found him here, and my worst nightmare had come true. He was infected.
“I knew that should be it—he was dead, and I should move on. But…I couldn’t. Something in me kept demanding I come back here.” She lets out a hollow laugh. “Sometimes I think I do it so I can keep punishing myself.”
“This wasn’t your fault,” I argue, but she simply closes her eyes, not wanting to hear it.
“A tiny part of me keeps coming to see him because…I wondered if there’s still part of him in there.” Her eyes open, and they’re full of cautious optimism. “Now that I’ve met you, I know I was right. Working on a cure isn’t futile. He’s still in there somewhere, and I need to help him.”
Anxiety sits like lead in my stomach. “Kate,” I say slowly. “I was turned only six months ago.”
She turns to me, the hope in her eyes spreading across her face. “We obviously don’t have the details yet, but I’m sure it can be done for him, like it can be done for you.”
“Even if a cure is possible, it doesn’t mean everyone will want to be saved.”
She scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I close my eyes for a brief moment and ready myself. “What infected have done—what I’ve done, what your brother may have done—may be too much for a person to bear.”
“We’ve all done bad things—”
“No.” My jaw clicks as my anxiety morphs into aggravation.
“No, we haven’t. Do you know what it’s like to be completely out of control, to be forced to do things because something inside of you is calling the shots?
I watched myself tear into people day after day, helpless to stop it.
The virus has us in its grasp and we have no way to stop it. ”
“I’ve killed people, too.” Her nostrils flare.
I shake my head. “It’s not the same, and deep down, you know that. You just can’t admit it because you know Harrison may not be able to live with himself.”
Her face clouds with disgust and starts walking away, but the dam inside me has been broken and I can’t stop.
“He’s been infected for a whole year, Kate.
The virus has already started to eat away at him—the virus no longer wants to infect; it wants to kill.
It wants to rip anyone and anything into shreds.
” She stops and twists to face me, features contorted with rage, but I keep going.
“You said yourself he’s never been out in the daylight before.
He’s already on his way to being a shadow stalker—”
Kate rushes me, but I move too quickly for her. Before she can fall through the open window, I grab her around the waist and pivot until her back hits the wall. My free hand grabs her wrists and I pin them above her head. She snarls at me, and I snarl right back.
“Maybe you should stop being selfish and shoot your brother in the head.”
A scream filled with anger and devastation rushes from her mouth before she brings her knee into my stomach. I grunt and release her, barely blocking the punch she aims at my face.
“I just want to help him,” she screams, her fist trying to connect with me.
I dodge and grip her wrist, catching her off guard and pulling her against me.
“You want to help?” My voice drips with anger, with resentment, with a lifetime of desperation.
“How do you expect anyone to live with what they’ve done?
How can you expect Harry to do it, or for me to do it?
” The anger and hopelessness starts boiling over.
“You’d be doing anyone a favor. Including your brother. ”
I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth.
Kate’s eyes go wide, looking at me like she can’t believe what she’s heard. Before I can stammer out an apology, she rips her wrist from my grasp.
Her face contorts with anger as she spits, “You think you can speak for everyone?”
Even with the venom in her voice, the words are barely more than a whisper. I’d much rather she scream at me, even go back to trying to hit me.
“You think you can decide what someone can and can’t handle?” She steps closer to me, nearly nose-to-nose, simmering with rage. “You can hate yourself all you want, but don’t speak for anyone else. Especially not Harry.”
I keep my mouth shut and spine straight, shame roiling in my veins. She’s right—just because I’ve wanted to die doesn’t mean everyone will want the same.
“I’m sorry,” I rasp.
She blinks, seemingly shocked that I’m not escalating the argument. But she’s right. Her mouth wobbles as she tries to fight off tears of rage.
“I don’t know what he’s gone through, but he’s my brother. I’m not giving up on him.”
“I know,” I mumble, feeling sick with shame.
She wipes angrily at her eyes, trying to keep the leash on the wave of sadness I know sits under the surface.
“You really feel that way?” she asks, her voice smaller than before. A crack in her armor.
Part of me wants to take it back, to stop her from being upset by what I’ve divulged. But why should I? I tried so many times to end it.
“I do—I did.” I struggle to find the right words.
“Things have been…better recently. But I don’t know if this feeling will ever go away.
It sits in me, going dormant sometimes, but I know it’s there.
It’s like—” I suck in air, readying myself.
“It’s like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff with an ocean of my grief below.
Jagged rocks line the shore, awaiting my death.
And if I happen to be lucky and miss them when I finally jump, the monsters lurking beneath the surface will finish the job.
“Sometimes I think it’s best to just do it.
To jump. To put myself out of my own misery.
Other times, I feel there’s no other choice—I have to fall forward.
But then there are times where I step back from the ledge.
It’s still there, of course, but its danger is no longer calling quite as loudly to me.
I’m safe, with my feet digging into the dirt beneath me, letting me stay a while longer. ”
I’ve ripped my chest open with my bare hands, fingernails digging into my flesh and bone to expose my broken core underneath. Kate is trembling, holding herself back from either launching at me or bursting into tears.
I go still, unsure of how to act, how to approach her now.
She decides for me, though, as a few tears break free of her control, slowly rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m sorry you live with that.”
I nearly mumble that it’s okay so we can move on, but I don’t. It isn’t okay and I don’t want to lie to her. I’m not sure what to say, so I nod. The air between us is thick, grief weighing heavily between us.
“Can I touch you?” she asks, fingers twitching at her sides.
“I’d like that,” I answer, a bit of the heaviness in my chest easing as she steps forward, fingers brushing against mine tentatively.
Her forest green eyes hold mine, searching, asking for permission as she lifts her arms and wraps them around my shoulders.
The touch grounds me, tethers me to her.
I don’t hesitate to reach for her, to hold her against me like it’s the only thing I need to do.
I press my face against the top of her head, breathing in her comforting scent, feeling relaxed for the first time since the outbreak.
She clings to me like she’ll never let go, and I realize I never want her to.
We stand here, in this old apartment, until the sun begins to set. Kate’s tears have dried, but we wordlessly agreed to stay for a bit longer.
But now, it’s no longer safe for her.
I smooth her hair down as I murmur, “We need to get going.”
She nods against my chest and peels back, her eyes locking with mine, searching for a moment before we separate.
A hiss comes from the other side of the door.
We both freeze and stare at the unit’s entrance, hoping it was the wind playing a trick on us.
But once we hear a growl, our fears are confirmed.
“We can’t stay here,” I whisper to her.
She nods.
I reach the door and place my hand on the knob. “Ready?” I whisper, checking over my shoulder. “No guns. It’ll alert a horde.”
I take my new bow and hand it over, which she hesitates to take. “I’m not proficient with this,” she admits.
“It’s better than nothing,” I respond.
If there’s a time for the beast to take over, now would be perfect.
Turning back around, I brace myself and ease the door open.
The hallway beyond is dark, but I spot two infected down the other end.
They turn to look at me and hiss but don’t charge.
They must not scent Kate yet—all this time together has cloaked it.
I throw her a look that says stay here and slowly approach them.
Their interest is peaked, their noses sniffing the air as I get closer, but don’t attack.
A threat, the beast rumbles, seeming to understand the gravity of the situation we’re in. Without having to do much myself, my head snaps forward and I sink my teeth into one of the infected’s neck. It doesn’t have time to shriek before I rip out its throat.
The second charges at me, but I’m faster. One hand punches through its chest, my fingers closing around the heart and yanking it back.
The infected falls like a sack at my feet, its heart oozing blood.
I turn to find Kate peeking around the door, her eyes darting between me and the heart. I drop it unceremoniously to the floor and say, “The coast is clear.”
She rushes to me, not sparing the dead bodies on the ground a second glance as we rush into the stairwell. Bursting through the door, we begin our descent, my ears straining for any other unwelcome visitors.
Reaching the ground floor, I press my ear to the exit, listening for a moment before pulling the door open. Kate still has my bow at the ready, covering my back as we go back through the lobby.
“We’re in the heart of raider territory,” Kate says. “We’ll need to go back through the underground walkway.” She pulls a flashlight from her pack.
I know that, but I don’t like it. It’s a miracle we managed to make it out the first time without incident. I work through our options as we move across the room. Being out on the street at night may be worse than trying to traverse the underground system.
Reluctantly, I head toward the walkway entrance, a nervous sensation pooling in my stomach as we go.