Alone (15 page)

“Oh, I have something for you,” Roman says, plopping the box down on the counter a little too hard. The batteries bang against the glass, and I cringe, waiting for it to crack and split apart. It doesn’t.

Steve crosses his arms as his eyebrows shoot up. He has a smirk on his face that tells me he doesn’t think Roman can pull it off. It disappears the second the lid comes off the box, and Steve’s mouth falls open. Behind him, Hank lets out a loud chuckle.

“Where’d you get those, man?” Steve asks, sounding like a little kid.

Roman pulls the box back when Steve tries to touch the batteries. “Been collecting them.”

“You been holding out on me?” Steve asks, sounding almost hurt.

Hank laughs again, and I realize that even I’m smiling. Roman must have been right about Steve’s habit.

“Just holding on to them until I really needed something big from you,” Roman says. He playfully smacks Steve on his fleshy forearm. “I never woulda traded them to anyone else. Don’t worry.”

“You better not,” Steve mumbles.

Roman raises an eyebrow as he unconsciously flicks his hair out of his face. “So we got a deal?”

“Don’t know what you need a bike for anyways.” Steve puckers his lips. “You already got one.”

“It’s for Mac. He turns eighteen next week,” Roman says as he slides the box across the counter.

Steve picks it up like it’s the Holy Grail. His eyes wide and full of wonder.

Professional gamer
, I think.

That was Steve before the virus. He probably lived in his parent’s basement. Played video games and ate pizza all day. Or maybe he did it for a living. Sat in a big room surrounded by people with white lab coats and clipboards, testing new video games for flaws.

Too bad the Game Boy thingy is the only video game he can get his hands on anymore.

“Bike’s out back,” Steve says, barely looking away from the box as he tosses a set of keys through the air.

Roman catches them, grinning. “Thanks, man.”

Steve is too busy staring at the box to say anything.

“We’ll see you later,” Roman calls over his shoulder as he leads me toward the back door.

“How are we getting the bike inside the fence? Are you just going to drive it through the front gate?” I ask when we head out of the building.

“I’m going to hide it for now. I’ll get with Clay, figure out when he’s working the fence and Kyle isn’t. I can’t trust that prick to keep his mouth shut.”

“Makes sense,” I say.

The motorcycle is very similar to the one Roman has, only a little older and with a lot more dents and rust. I’m not even sure at first that it’s going to start, but I climb on behind Roman anyway. I hold my breath and wrap my arms around his waist, not hesitating like I did last time, and exhale with relief when the engine turns over.

The bike rumbles beneath me as Roman shoots a look over his shoulder. “Ready?”

I nod and squeeze him tighter when he takes off.

We move through town slowly, dodging people on the street who barely bat an eye. They’re all too busy going about their own business to care what we’re doing, which is probably another reason Roman likes the idea of an unsanctioned area. I can’t really blame him for that, though. It has to be pretty awful living in Rick’s shadow.

Roman slows to a stop when we reach the gate, but it doesn’t take more than three minutes for the doors to open. When they do, he shoots through so fast I squeal. My fingers grip his shirt and his body shakes as he chuckles at my expense. If I weren’t afraid I’d fall off, I’d smack him for laughing at me right now.

He drives faster than the speed limit once was on this street, and by the time he slows to make a turn, I’m holding on for dear life. It’s a good thing too, because right in front of us, just around a bend in the road, six zombies stand in the middle of the road.

They aren’t bunched close together, which means when Roman swerves around the first zombie, he finds himself heading right for another one. I squeeze my eyes closed when the creature reaches out for us, but when I’m jerked to the left, find it impossible to keep them shut. I open my eyes to find a zombie right next to me, and the air I fill my lungs with is so foul and wretched that it causes my stomach to lurch.

“Hang on!” Roman calls as he swerves yet again.

There are still two zombies in front of us, with the other four heading after the motorcycle. With the way things are now, we’re goners if we wipe out.

Roman accelerates past the next zombie, and then picks up even more speed as he flies by the last one. I look over my shoulder to find a trail of dust in our wake, and the six zombies shambling down the street after us. They’re so slow that even if we did wreck and were injured we’d be able to outrun them now, but that doesn’t mean my heart isn’t going wild.

What the hell had I been thinking? I should have stayed inside the fence where I belonged.

Roman doesn’t slow again for at least another ten minutes, and by the time he does, I’ve finally managed to calm down and give the whole thing some real thought. We weren’t in any real danger. Sure, the zombies were close, but they were so slow that they couldn’t get close enough to sink their teeth into us. Roman knew what he was doing.

When Roman pulls to the side of the road, he looks back at me like he isn’t sure if I’m going to hit him or burst into tears. “You okay?”

I nod and slide off even though I’m not sure if this is where he intended to stash the bike. I just know I need to stretch my legs. After the intensity of our encounter, all my muscles feel tight.

“I’m fine. I was scared, but once we got away I realized it wasn’t as close as I’d thought it was at the time.”

Roman’s eyebrows shoot up. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

He lets out a deep sigh as he climbs off the bike as well. “Good. I was afraid that would be the end of it, and I have to tell you, I really didn’t want that to happen.”

He pushes the bike into the trees, and I watch him from the road as he covers it with leaves and branches. When he’s satisfied, he turns to face me as he pulls out a cigarette. His hands are shaking just a little, but I know him well enough by now to know that he isn’t scared of the zombies.

“Why are you shaking?”

He chuckles as he blows out a mouthful of smoke. “Honestly? I’m not sure. But I think it has something to do with the fact that I thought for sure you were never going to talk to me again after that.”

When he stops in front of me, I take his hand in mine. “It would take a lot more than a few zombies to keep me away from you at this point. You have to realize that.”

“Really?” Roman tilts his head to the side. “We just met. How do you know for sure?”

“I just do. Don’t you?”

He lets out a deep sigh and slings his arm over my shoulder. “Yes. There’s never been anything in my life that I was sure of until now.”

We head back toward Coastal Manor. Roman smokes, while I find myself enjoying the walk. Thanks to the storm the humidity is down, and the breeze that moves across the road is cool and refreshing. It’s so nice being out in nature that I can’t even be afraid. This is so much better than D.C. Better than the city and living inside a wall I’m not allowed to leave. It makes the idea of living in an unsanctioned town almost desirable. Roman was right: there’s so much potential for freedom out here. Even among the dead.

“So where do you think you’ll run off to?” I ask after about fifteen minutes of walking in silence.

“Not sure. I’ve heard good things about the Charleston area. It would be far enough away that Rick wouldn’t be able to find me but close enough that we—I can get there in less than a day. Going too far would be dangerous, but up north could work too. Winter freezes these things.”

He doesn’t acknowledge the slip, and neither do I, but my heart does skip a beat.
We
. I like the sound of that.

“Close to the ocean would be nice.”

He tilts his head to the side, and his brown eyes study mine. “Is that what you would like?”

I swallow, barely able to talk. The butterflies are awake, and I’m pretty sure a few have managed to escape and are now lodged in my throat.

“I do like being close to the ocean.”

“I’ll go wherever you’ll be happy.” His eyes are so intense that they burn into me.

“Except Coastal Manor.” My words are like throwing a bucket of water on a fire. They smother everything that was happening between us, but I feel like I need to state the obvious. “Rick could be kicked off his pedestal any day now, and once that happens things might not be that bad. We could be wrong about this government. A year from now, we could have a new president and democracy could be back. It’s possible.”

Roman stops walking and tosses his cigarette to the ground. We stand face to face in the middle of the road, and he just stares at me. His eyes keeping me prisoner as I wait for him to talk. My entire body is heavy with the weight of his gaze.

“Is that what you want?” he finally whispers. “You want me to stay here and live a respectable life? Is that how you see our future?”

Our future? I don’t know how I see
our
future. A week ago, I didn’t even know Roman existed. So how did I see
my
future? A respectable life. Yes, that’s what I’d imagined.

But is staying in a sanctioned settlement the only way to achieve that?

I hesitate, but Roman nods, urging me to speak. I have to get it out. “I always thought I’d get married one day. Have a husband and a house and kids. That hope didn’t change with the apocalypse.”

“We can still get married. Still have kids. Do you need to live in a government-sanctioned settlement for that?”

My heart stops beating. “You want to marry me?”

The corner of Roman’s mouth twitches. He flicks the hair out of his eyes and reaches up to caress my face, running his fingers down my cheek to my jaw. My heart starts beating again, only now it’s so fast and loud that it pounds in my ears.

It’s all I can hear until Roman says, “Yes.”

That one word smashes all my expectations for my future. They shatter and break apart, fracturing into a million pieces that float around in my head. Then the pieces fuse back together, creating a different picture. This one is so much better and brighter. Because it is Roman. Everything is Roman.

I smile a smile that is so big my cheeks hurt and I’m certain that I look like a lovesick puppy dog. A walking cliché of teenage giddiness. But I don’t give a crap. Roman pulls me close and kisses me, and I melt into him, getting so wrapped up in his embrace that everything around us fades away.

When a truck pulls to a stop next to us, I jerk back. Where the hell did it come from?

Roman’s body tenses, and he steps in front of me. “Shit.”

Bandits
. It’s the first thing that comes to my mind, but when the passenger door swings open and someone steps out, my blood turns to ice. Mr. Smith. Maybe bandits would have been better.

“Roman,” the Regulator says as he walks toward us. His voice is hard and his eyes dark. They flit toward me, and a small, ugly smile curls up his lips. “I thought we discussed this.”

Roman’s mask of nonchalance returns. It’s been missing all day, and he’s been so relaxed that I almost forgot that stony look of his.

He pulls a cigarette out and sticks it between his lips, holding his father’s gaze as he lights it. He inhales slowly, filling his lungs. When he exhales, smoke floats toward his father’s face, surrounding him.

“We discussed it.”

The Regulator’s body becomes so rigid that he seems to grow an inch taller. The smile disappears. “Get in the truck.”

“We can walk from here,” Roman says.

I scoot closer to Roman, unsure of what to do. Should I stand back and let Roman take care of it or stick up for him?

Mr. Smith glances my way. “I don’t think your father would like the idea of you being out here.”

My father is going to be pissed.

Roman’s cool exterior cracks a little when he glances my way.

The Regulator must notice, because he smiles again. “I’m done here. You know the rules, Roman, and you’ve broken them for the last time. All citizens leaving town must sign out. I’m afraid I’m going to have to arrest the two of you.” He shakes his head and frowns in mock-disappointment, but the rage in his eyes gives him away. “Get in the truck or I’ll be forced to cuff you.”

Roman gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry.”

I’m not worried, not about me, anyway. True, I’m not really looking forward to seeing my father, especially since he’d specifically told me not to go anywhere alone with Roman. I don’t know what my dad will do when he finds out, but whatever Roman is about to face has me more worried. Who cares about a little fight with my dad when Roman’s abusive father stands in front of us, glaring at his son with barely concealed rage?

Chapter Sixteen

Arrested

We ride back to Coastal Manor in the cab with Rick while the other men sit in the truck bed. I smoke, despite Rick’s glare of disapproval.

“Your mother would be disappointed in you.” His eyes glint as a small smile curls up his lips.

It’s the only thing he can say that still hurts me, and he knows it.

The air leaves my lungs, and for a couple seconds I can’t breathe. I turn to face the window and swallow, trying to keep the hurt and anger from bursting out of me. I wish he had waited until we were alone to say it. The fact that Jules is here makes the hurt more intense.

He probably knew that, though.             

“What are you doing out here anyway?” I ask when I’ve finally pulled myself together. My voice sounds too thick. Strained.

Jules squeezes my hand, and the pain inside me eases just a little.

“Our government rations never came yesterday.”

I keep my face blank because I can feel Rick’s gaze on me. When I turn to face him, his eyes search mine. He raises an eyebrow as he waits for me to give something away. I take a long pull on my cigarette and shrug. My lungs still hurt, so it takes a lot of effort, but it helps keep my expression blank. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of getting any information from me.

A truck disappearing isn’t uncommon. Bandits. Undocumented people. Zombie attacks. There are a lot of things that can go wrong in this world. But I have a pretty good idea where to find our stolen goods. I saw a couple government boxes when I was talking to Hank and Steve, and Rick isn’t dumb.

“Bummer,” I say, giving my best impression of a disinterested teenager.

“Yes,” Rick says. He finally tears his eyes off me and focuses on the road again. “It is a
bummer
. We lost a good amount of food, fuel, and antibiotics. Stuff we depend on. But most importantly, we lost our first shipment of the AJ201 vaccine. The CDC finally started distributing it. Who knows how long it will take to get replacement vials.”

“They’ve finally released the vaccine?” Jules asks, speaking for the first time since Rick found us on the side of the road.

Her face is bright and full of interest, and even though it’s irrational, the fact that she wants to talk to Rick seems like a betrayal.

She doesn’t want to talk to Rick. She’s just interested in the vaccine
. It doesn’t make me feel any better. I need to know that she’s on my side.

“They have,” Rick says. “Thanks to some random guy who would be totally worthless if it hadn’t been for his blood. The way I hear it, he was bitten on the way to Atlanta and barely alive when they brought him in. He didn’t turn, though, and apparently it wasn’t his first bite.”

“Did he live?” Jules asks, leaning forward.

Rick doesn’t even look her way. “They kept him alive long enough to draw his blood. Other than that, I don’t know.” His voice is as cold as his heart. “Doesn’t really matter. We got the vaccine. Would have gotten it sooner if the virus hadn’t mutated.”

His callous words make even me uneasy, and I’m used to the prick.

Jules shakes her head like she can’t understand how anyone can be so cold and unfeeling, but it doesn’t stop her from asking, “How does it work?”

“Administering it before a bite doesn’t do anything. You have to wait until after the victim has been bitten. If it’s given in time, it stops the virus from killing the victim, which stops them from turning. No more zombies. They went through quite a few trials and serums before they found one that worked.”

Jules bites down on her lip, and a jolt goes through my body. How can that affect me so much with Rick here? She’s like a drug to me. My body craves her closeness.

When we stop in front of the town hall, Jules’s father is standing outside. Rick grins.

The JO’s eyes narrow when we get out of the truck. “What’s going on?”

“Went out to search the area for our missing delivery and found these two outside the fence.” Rick jerks his head toward Jules and me. “Kissing.”

Jules stares at the ground, and I have to clench my fists to keep from punching Rick in the face. Of course he has to throw that last part in. He knows exactly how pissed off the father of a teenage girl is going to be when he finds out that she’s been fooling around with a delinquent like me. I’m not exactly the type of guy someone brings home to mom—or dad, in this case.

Jon’s jaw clenches. “Juliana?”

She keeps her eyes on the ground. All the rebellion she talked about earlier has disappeared, and she suddenly looks—scared. I’ve never gotten the impression that she’s afraid of him, so I don’t really understand what’s going on. Have I been missing something?

“They broke the rules.” Rick puffs his chest out like he’s trying to make himself look bigger. He’s leading up to something. I can see it in his eyes. They gleam in a way that is usually reserved for my torture. “It’s your daughter’s first offense, so I think she should be let off with just a warning, but Roman’s pushed me too many times.”

We’re drawing quite a crowd now. It’s Saturday—trading day—and the street is full. People have stopped what they’re doing and gathered around, watching us like we’re putting on some performance.

Jon purses his lips like he’s trying to suppress a smile. “What would you suggest? A couple of days in lock-up?”

Rick’s luck just keeps getting better.

I take a cigarette out and light up before I lose the privilege.

Rick glares my way. It’s probably the first time he’s been openly hostile to me in public. Of course, the great people of Coastal Manor will forgive him. It isn’t his fault he has such a rotten son.

“Three sounds fair to me.”

“No!” Jules cries, finally looking up from the ground. “That’s not fair!”

“He broke the rules, Juliana. You’re lucky Mr. Smith is willing to let you off with just a warning.” Jules opens her mouth to argue, but her dad cuts her off. “End of discussion.”

Her eyes fill with tears, and when she turns to face me, her expression is twisted with pain.

What can I do to make her feel better while also pissing off the two adults standing in front of us?

I pluck the cigarette out of my mouth and lean toward her. “Don’t worry about me. Being with you was worth three days in lock-up.”

Then I pull her toward me and hungrily attack her lips with mine, kissing her until the JO finally steps forward and pries me off his daughter.

It’s probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. How the hell am I going to spend three days in lock-up after kissing her like that? They’re gonna be the longest three days of my life.