43. Chapter 43
Chapter forty-three
Cason
After spending the evening locked up in that room with Lance, it’s a relief to step beyond. With the morning sun barely breaching the horizon in orange and purple hues, I descend the stairs before tapping on the other apartment door.
Nora appears on the other side with a tired smile. The others are still sleeping, and I whistle softly before Bo rises and trots my way, Bean, wrapped in Zoey’s arms following.
My eyes fall to Shelby, sleeping on her side. Her pink lips are parted in sleep with her hair cascading over her shoulder in golden waves.
She lets out something between a whimper and a groan and my chest twinges before I turn away. I did everything fucking possible to resist the woman slumbering on the floor and yet, here I am.
What if Lance had bitten her on that drive? She’d be just as dead as he is, leaving me right back where I started. I can’t afford to be weak and yet here I am, risking my life for the most foolish of reasons.
I’m not trying to be a dick but come on, it’s eat or be eaten—literally. If we truly want to survive, we have to make better decisions but what remains in my thoughts as I follow the dogs down the hall, is that I don’t truly know what Shelby wants.
She’s becoming stronger but is she processing what she left behind? Her abusive husband? The baby she lost?
What if these reckless behaviors have more to do with her psyche than anything else? I can’t save someone who might be quietly resigned to dying.
Shaking my head of the thoughts, I pause at the door we came through last night, uneasy with the inability to see anything through the thick stone walls.
Instead, I backtrack to the other closed door which I presume leads into the bakery and ease it open slowly.
Despite my efforts, Shelby’s lips parted in sleep follow me through the door and I worry for her state of mind because we’ve never spoken about the past. Shit, I’ve got a lot of things to tell her too. What if she’s battling demons I can’t see? Does it make her more vulnerable?
The front windows come into sight, and I pause with my hand on the knob when a shadow passes to the right and whatever or whoever it was backs away.
Since I’ve never seen one of them miss an opportunity for a meal and I refuse to believe they’ve evolved into something smarter, I assume that was a living breathing person who didn’t want to be seen.
It could be someone with the same reservations about strangers but if it’s not, we need to go before the possibility of more of them arrive.
Unfortunately, my thoughts are confirmed when Bo begins to growl and Bean dances around him before letting out her own yip of warning.
When I turn, a man stands behind me with a dirty smirk and a rifle pointed at my chest. He eyes me and the dogs before saying, “Why don’t you tell me what you did to my buddy Pasco.”
Shelby
My neck aches from the awkward angle I slept in, but I feel surprisingly refreshed when I sit up and glance around the room. Zoey’s sweet little face, pursed in sleep brings a smile to my face before it fades.
Is Lance gone? Or . . . ?
Refusing to accept the possibility that Cason killed him the moment they were alone, I step around the sleeping bodies filling the floor and stop before Nora, gazing out the window.
Unfortunately, the only thing to watch on the other side is another building but she seems content as I say, “Hey.”
Tilting her head, she musters a tired grin and says, “How did you sleep?”
“Like the dead,” I admit before wincing at my poor choice of words.
“Good. We have a long day ahead of us.”
I’m not looking forward to another day of riding in the truck but staying where we are is not an option.
Will this cabin Cason speaks of be better than all the places we’ve passed along the way? I sure hope so because I hate to see the last of the hope he’s clinging to die from his eyes.
I was surprised when he helped Lance from the truck yesterday and equally dismayed when he basically ordered me to stay put. Rather than arguing, I gave in because I think somewhere in his muddled way of thinking, he wanted to protect me and how could I say no to that?
In the clear light of day though, I feel guilty for leaving him to take care of our dying friend and glance at the ceiling before making my decision.
He’s been up there alone long enough. It’s time to allow others to carry the burden. Before I can turn to the door though, Nora says, “He came down an hour ago. Took the dogs out to pee.”
An hour ago? With a sinking sensation in my gut, I step into the hall.
The door to the bakery stands open but when I stop at the threshold, I find nothing but dust motes dancing inside.
A shiver skates down my spine as I approach the front entrance, and it falls to ice when I spy the empty spot where our truck used to be. He wouldn’t leave us, right?
Or would he? I practically forced him to sit with a dying man all night, this after he presumably found his own dead wife on that first day.
We’ve done nothing but fight and when it comes down to it, he’s the one who’s had to save me in the face of every conflict because I’m too fucking weak to hold my own.
Shit.
Leaning against the door jamb, I tilt my head to the sky. I can’t explain the cold chill that wracks my frame before wrapping around my heart, but I know, moving forward, I’m on my own and trusting someone else to be there is something I will never do again.