Chapter Forty-Four
I RAP ON JASPER’S DOOR. Once, twice, three times.
I wait. One, two, three seconds.
Where is he?
The yellow sun sits just above the horizon, but already cloaks the surrounding wooded landscape in scalding beams. Sweat drips down the base of my skull, and the back of my shirt sticks to my skin.
I give the door one last knock. Maybe Jasper’s still asleep?
Screw it.
I allow myself to use his creek to wash up—because he owes me, right? Owes me for kidnapping me and making me want to stay here and be his friend and kiss him. And when he wakes up, and I do finally see him this morning, I want him to see me with clean hair.
Ten minutes later, wet blond strands drip onto my shirt. No soap, but at least the water rinses off my sweaty hair stink, plus the burn smell that tinged my skin.
I walk to the side of the house and pick up some rocks. Pelt them at his window. My aim isn’t great, so I resort to using my voice. “Get up!” I shout. Nothing.
Maybe there’s a spare key somewhere . . .
I walk around to the front of the house and look under the three dirt-filled flower pots, but still, no dice. For good measure, I shove my hand inside the flower pots, dirt catching under my fingernails.
“Can I help you with something?”
I look up. I’m crouched like a crazy person, elbow-deep in dirt, while Jasper stands in his doorway, leaning against the frame, a knowing smirk plastered across his handsome face.
I mutter, “I thought you might have a spare key.”
“Me. Have a spare key. In this neck of the woods? In the apocalypse?”
I pat the dirt from my hands onto my jeans. Well, shit. Once again, I’m covered in crud. “Stranger things have happened.”
Jasper rubs the back of his neck. “Why are you attempting to break into my house, anyway?”
“I need your help.”
Barely a day later, and I’ve come back to ask Jasper for help. Yet again. His opinion of me, though, will never matter as much as my family’s safety. I need them here, with me, in my empty home, to cover Andrew’s smells and broken memories.
“Say more,” he says.
“Chandler took Clara’s teacher like she took Eagan and Garrett.
I know she did. And who knows what she’s doing with them?
” Setting their bodies aflame? Jasper raises his eyebrows.
“I’m scared. For my grandmother, and for my sister.
I’m ready to bring them here, to Macoby—now. But I can’t do that alone.”
“You won’t do it alone. And they’ll be here soon.” Jasper steps toward me. Closer, I think. I want you closer. “They’re about done digging the tunnel. Just another week or so.”
I shake my head. “That’s not fast enough. I’m not waiting any longer.”
Jasper’s shoulders sag as he releases a big breath. He knows Chandler would hurt my family. She could justify punching a butterfly. “How do you want me to help?”
“Is there any way we can break into Egal?”
“Why do you think we’re creating a tunnel?”
“It’s not done yet.” I bite my lip, step toward Jasper, lift my chin, and meet his eyes. Say it. “Grandma and Bunny could be dead in a week.”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Kota. Breaking into Egal . . . it’s a bad idea.”
“Jasper, I’m scared,” I admit, my voice weak.
“After learning about Clara’s teacher last night, I fear Chandler’s on an accelerated path to destruction.
What happens when there are no more Macs to take?
Bunny and Grandma, they’re not healthy. If she comes after her own people, they’d be top of the list. And,” I add, “we still don’t know what she’s doing to the hostages. ”
“I understand.” He’s not placating me. His wide eyes are sorrowful. “Chandler is capable of terrible things.” He leaves off the word that comes next. But.
After a moment, Jasper says, “Come with me. I have to show you something.”
THE brIGHT SUN CASTS LONG shadows behind me and Jasper, trailing after us like our own personal zombies.
After we walk Jasper’s bike toward Chief’s house-in-a-hill, Jasper pulls a lock out of his backpack and ties it up to the sole zombie tree slowly overtaking the grass.
His code is 2-1-2-9-9. I wonder what, if any, meaning that holds for him.
As we reach the front patio, a wet drop of blood splatters on the grass.
It’s mine—I’ve picked off the chapped skin around my fingernails and then some.
I suck on my index finger to stop the blood, warm and salty on my tongue.
West used to pack these little electrolyte packets for long Boy Scout trips.
Now I’m sucking sodium from my own damn flesh.
I twist the bottom of my oversized shirt—thanks, Andrew—to wrap it around my finger like gauze, but Jasper finds my hand first. He pulls a crinkled Wendy’s napkin out of his pocket and stops the bleeding.
“Been saving this for a special occasion,” he says. I fill with warmth as he tucks the corner of the napkin under itself, wraps his hand around mine, and squeezes. “Knew the time would come to depart with Wendy. This feels like the right moment.”
“Were you a chocolate or vanilla kinda guy?”
“Frosty?” he asks. I nod. “Chocolate. What do I look like, a chump?”
I use my free hand to flick him on the forehead. “Grandma’s favorite flavor is vanilla, and she’s not a chump.”
“Wouldn’t know. Never met her.” I flick him again. “Hey, would you stop that?”
“You’ll meet Grandma soon. And she’s one of the greatest people you’ll ever meet.” I stick out my tongue at my captor-turned-friend-turned . . . what? What are we becoming?
Jasper smiles and raises his knuckle to Chief’s door. Before he has a chance to knock, Chief steps out. I yank my hand free of Jasper’s and jump behind his back, peering over his broad shoulders.
“What are you two doing here?” Chief asks, not unkindly.
“We need your bike,” Jasper says.
I whisper into Jasper’s ear, “But we have a bike?”
Jasper ignores me, spinning around and grabbing my shoulders. He pulls me in front of him. I’m not sure what’s causing my heart to race: standing before Chief or being pressed up against Jasper.
Jasper directs his next words at Chief. “Kota needs to see it.” See what? “At this point, we’ve got to give her the full picture.”
Chief nods. “You may take the bike, of course, but make sure Kota knows the rules.”
Jasper turns to me. “Bike’s gotta return with a full tank. Premium gas.”
Oh. That kind of bike.
“Premium?” I scoff. “You’re joking.” That kind of fuel will be impossible to find. We’ve already drained the local Exxons and Spinx. Our best shot these days is checking abandoned cars on the highway.
Jasper says, “Yeah, I’m joking.”
Chief opens the door behind him and gestures wide. “Let me show you to the garage.”
This man has it all, doesn’t he?