Break Free The Night (Book 2): Loss of Light (29 page)

              Kaylee had immediately called out for Anna while Andrew leant closer to Emma.

              "Emma, Em," he had whispered. "We got you, you're going to be okay." His voice was strangled and hoarse.

              "Sit her up," Anna had ordered, sweeping in. Andrew had scooped her up into a sitting position, careful of her leg, and cradled her against his chest. She was still wrapped in the blanket and her head was listing to the side. Other than the quiet crying, she looked asleep.

              "Open your mouth, honey," Anna had said, holding two white pills to her lips. Emma hadn't responded and it took Andrew prodding her mouth open for Anna to get the pills in. She brought the whiskey to Emma's lips and that she guzzled. She quieted while still drinking, passing out as Anna was still pouring. The amber liquor dribbled out of her mouth and down her chin.

              "Are you alright?" Andrew asked, his eyes flitting up to her and then settling back on her sister.

              Kaylee worked to find an answer. "No," she finally whispered. "Andrew, I think I'm a bit messed up."

              His eyes finally met hers. "You're not."

              She shook her head slowly. "No, I am. I'm... empty. I can't feel. I-"

              He kept his gaze on her as she broke off. There were no tears, no swelling of sorrow or guilt, there was nothing. "He's gone," she continued, biting out the words. "He's gone and she's hurt and I... I-"

              "You did what you had to," Andrew supplied in the silence she left. "And the feeling will come back. It's better like that anyway, if it comes in slow trickles. Better to not feel that all at once. You're strong Kay, you'll get through it."

              Jack's arm squeezed tight on her middle, his chin burrowing into her side. She kept her eyes on Andrew. On the best friend she had had for years, the boy who cared for her still.

              "He's good for you," Andrew whispered, nodding towards Jack. "We're alike, you and I, we both need someone to give us a good kick in the ass when we're acting up. He does that for you."

              Kaylee snorted. "I don't know about that. He's more patient than what's good for him, I think."

              "Yeah, he's that too, more patient than I ever was," Andrew chuckled. "But he knows what you need and when to push."

              "I suppose," Kaylee conceded and Andrew's eye flit back toward Emma. Her features twisted and he tensed, waiting for her to wake. She didn't. She shifted and then stilled, breathing deeply once more.

              "She'll be okay, Andrew," Kaylee said, watching him watch her. Emma was using his one arm as a pillow, though she probably didn't realize it. Andrew hadn't released her after being told to prop her up so she could swallow those pills. Kaylee was unsettled at the sudden intensity of his gaze. A shadow came over his features, hardening the lines of his face.

              "No, she won't." There was anger in his tone, but it wasn't the driving force. His words were tinged with fear and desperation and loss. And it was the last quality that terrified Kaylee.

              "Andrew, you can't-"

              "Don't, Kay," Andrew said through grit teeth.

              "Andrew-"

              "I'm serious, Kay. It's none of your business."

              "I care about you," she pushed. His eyes trained on her sister's face and something shifted. Kaylee's chest collapsed. She had seen it before in glimpses but had never really recognized it before this moment.

              Andrew loved her sister.

              "We don't know that she's contagious," he said, his voice soft but hopeful. "It might just be that she's immune but not a carrier. She could be totally fine. All this precaution and fear and it may all be for nothing."

              Kaylee didn't answer, she had nothing to say that he'd want to hear. The glow from the embers cast their skin in dull red light, painting Emma's calf an even brighter red. It shone in stark comparison to the rest of her; Kaylee had never seen her sister so pale. Andrew's free hand moved closer to Emma's face, brushing a few strands of hair back and behind her ear. Emma shifted in her sleep, sighing, and moved her face closer into Andrew's waiting palm.

              "I've thought about it," Andrew whispered, "She could be fine. I've thought about just testing it."

              Kaylee stiffened. Andrew's fingers stroked along her sister's face. The pads of his fingertips caressed her cheek and drifted lower.

              "Andrew," Kaylee said in warning, sitting up a little straighter.

              His thumb shifted and caught Emma's lower lip, dragging along it slowly. She sighed in her sleep, her breath drifting over his thumb. His eyes stared, transfixed.

              "Stop."

              He didn't listen, didn't seem to know Kaylee was sitting there. She could see the tip of his thumb, glistening in the low fire light with her sister's saliva.

              "She wouldn't have to even know," he whispered, moving his thumb gently along the swell of her lip, watching, as Kaylee was, her saliva gather on the pad of his thumb. "I could do it, test it myself, see-"

              "She'd kill you."

              "She's not infected!" Andrew returned hotly, finally drawing his fingers from her face. Emma frowned, tossing a bit in her whiskey induced sleep. Andrew softened and drew her near again, she turned her face into his chest and fell still.

              "I don't mean like that," Kaylee said, shaking her head. "I mean she'd actually, physically murder you."

              Andrew scowled dismissively. "She doesn't have to know," he said again.

              "And if she is infected? If you turn? How would she feel then, when you're dead because of her?" Kaylee stuttered over the words but said them as forcefully as possible, even though the possibilities made her chest clench.

              Andrew grit his teeth and turned away from Kaylee, his eyes once more tracing the planes of Emma's face.

              "She'd hate you for doing it, but more importantly, she'd hate herself. She'd run at the very least, and she'd..." Kaylee trailed off and sucked in a sharp breath, hating the truth in what she was about to say. "Andrew, at the very worse she'd kill herself if you died because of her. Not out of remorse, though she'd have that too, but to save the rest of us. If she knew for sure she was a carrier, she'd already be dead by now."

              Andrew didn't answer. But Kaylee knew that he knew the truth.

             
Emma stayed drunk for three days. Under better circumstances, Kaylee could have found it within her to laugh. The very limited filter that Emma had on her mouth to begin with was gone, every errant thought verbalized and flying through her lips in a slur. It ranged from absolute discomfort to amusing ridiculousness. At one point, she told Bill, point blank, that she agreed that she was dangerous and understood why he wished she had been chucked from the firehouse after she had been bit. Of course the very next moment she was describing to Andrew that she thought his butt looked better in the cargo pants he had scrounged up than it ever did in the jeans he used to wear.

              "Better fitted," she explained. Her forehead wrinkled. "Better formed? Kay? Which is it?"

              "Not sure, Em," Kaylee answered, a small smile playing on her lips. She shook her head at Andrew, whose face was heating up. He grit his teeth and shifted his gaze to Kaylee. There was a challenge in his eyes. He had kept his distance since the first night, and Kaylee knew she wasn't a small part of the reason why. He had scared her. He was too intense, too close to Emma, closer than Kaylee knew her sister would ever allow. So Kaylee hadn't left Emma's side.

              "Snug!" Emma said, her voice triumphant. "Snug works."

              "Whatever you say, Emma."

              Anna said she probably wouldn't remember most of what she said, which Kaylee thought would be a relief to Emma, if not the rest of them. But even with the rambling, it was still better when she was drunk. It was tolerable at least. When the whiskey first ran dry, she could barely move. Every tiny movement of her body left her gasping, her muscles tight. Her features hardened in a wince and she lashed out at anyone who spoke to her. She cried more than Kaylee had ever seen her cry.

              "You should try and get some sleep," Kaylee said, easing Emma down on her sleeping bag. A full bottle of vodka, which Emma stated she much preferred to the whiskey, was propped against the slanted roof behind her. Emma rolled her torso to it, knocking back a healthy swallow before she rest her head on her pillow.

              "Eugh, my leg hurts."

              "It'll hurt less tomorrow," Anna said, her eyes darting over the blistered skin of the younger girl. Emma's leg had been propped, mostly unmoving, on an old trunk they dragged to her sleeping bag. It wasn't easy getting her to the attic. She passed out as they brought her up the stairs, Andrew and Bill unable to help but jostling her a little. Anna had kept her on a steady diet of antibiotics and liquor and for now, she seemed to be healing. It was hard to tell, Kaylee thought, but Anna insisted she was.

              The skin was still bright red, and now permanently twisted. No one would think it was a bite mark though.

              "Kay," Emma whispered. She snuggled into her sleeping bag, looking up at her sister from under the covers. It brought a grin to Kaylee's lips. She looked younger, her eyes glassy but wide, staring up like she used to when they were little and Kaylee would let Emma sleep over her room. She'd be in a sleeping bag on those nights too, and Kaylee would hang off the end of her bed, making faces over her sister and telling stories.

              "What do you need, Em?"

              "How is it?"

              "How's what?" Kaylee asked, leaning closer as her sister whispered. She glanced at Jack out of the corner of her eye. She and he hadn't been alone since the other night, her last moment of oblivion in his arms while Andrew and Emma yelled at each other on the lawn. He grinned over at her, his eyes softening.

              "The sex," Emma whispered. Kaylee started and wrenched her eyes from Jack. The attic felt warm all of a sudden. Emma was peering up at her, expectant.

              "The what?" Kaylee started, her eyes wide as she shook her head. "No, we haven't-"

              "Please!" Emma slurred, no longer whispering. "I don't believe it!"

              "Em, seriously," Kaylee protested. She could already hear the sniggering from behind her. Her face heated.

              "All that time, hours! You think we couldn't hear you?" Emma said, rolling her eyes. Kaylee went to interrupt but a loud bark of laughter from Andrew broke through.

              "We'll talk about it later," Kaylee said in a hushed voice. Emma's eyes widened.

              "So you
did!
"

              Kaylee shook her head, but she couldn't stop a grin from breaking through. She settled Emma back into bed, waiting by her until she was asleep.

              "How many more days do we get the pleasure of her drunkenness?" she asked Anna, facing the rest of the group. She could see the smirks in the low light of the attic. It seemed even Bill found drunk Emma amusing. Anna released her bit lip, her expression turned thoughtful.

              "I really wish we had something else," she said. "The alcohol really isn't the best."

              "It's effective though," Bill said. "It's knocking her out and gives her a break from the pain."

              Anna nodded. "We can let her sober up a bit when she wakes, see where we are."

              Anna wasn't sure how long it would take for her leg to completely heal, how long until she'd be able to bear weight on it. The days were getting shorter and colder. Bill wanted to head south, somewhere where they'd not have to worry about keeping warm for the winter. Jack still wanted to make that final push up north.

              "We could make it before the snow," Jack had insisted, arguing quietly in the soft light that flickered through the attic at night.

              "You really want to risk that? What if there's no one up there?" Bill had returned. They left the argument last night without resolution. It would depend largely on Emma either way. If she couldn't travel before first snow, then Bill would win the argument by default. They all knew it, so it made no sense to argue it further now.

              Kaylee understood Jack's desire though. Going up north to find people was the last plan he and Quinton had together. But even Kaylee could see how this might no longer be an option, not with winter coming and the group as injured as they were.

              Jack was better. Anna still had him taking antibiotics, but he was moving around more than ever, his grimacing at a minimum. For the most part, he had stopped bleeding. The rest were healing as well. Bill's limp had subsided and Andrew spent every minute that he wasn't staring at Emma from across the room out scavenging useful materials. He had a truck parked in the driveway, a mattress and sleeping bags in the bed. They were ready to leave as soon as Emma could safely bounce around in the bed of the truck.

              The infected were around. Not plentiful, but Kaylee could hear the occasional shuffle in the yard, the scraping of bare heels against pavement and dirt. Emma's injury had thrown their schedule off. It was impossible to sleep when she was awake. She alternated between crying and giggling and either way, she was loud. So Andrew and Bill had taken to scouting around in the day time. And, as there weren't so many infected people milling around, they figured it would be safe enough. As it was, Kaylee noticed Andrew came back to the attic at least once with new bloodstains. When she asked, he shrugged it off.

              Once Emma was sleeping soundly, Andrew rose and opened the attic hatch. The sunlight still shone brightly through the broken glass of the hallway window. Kaylee went to check her watch, an automatic reflex, but of course it was gone, hers had broken when the dam water rushed over her.

              "What time, do you think?" Bill asked, watching his son lowering the ladder. Andrew paused, sticking his head out if the opening and then looking to Bill.

              "About three, I'd guess," Andrew answered. Bill nodded.

              "Good enough," he said, getting up and stretching. His back popped. Both men scrambled down the ladder. Anna looked from Emma to Kaylee.

              "Would you mind?" She asked, indicating the hall. Kaylee shook her head.

              "Go, we're fine," she said, nodding towards the ladder. Anna hadn't left the attic since they brought Emma up. Neither had Kaylee.

              When it was just she and Jack left, she nodded to the space next to her. He came over with a gentle smile. They sat, side by side, leaning back against the slanted roof.

              "Rough couple of days," Jack said, his hand reaching out for Kaylee's. She took it, pressed her palm to his, and let their tangled fingers fall to her knee. She hummed her agreement. A flare of heat rose in her chest at the innocent touch of his skin but she beat it back. Something he had said the other night, when he was telling Emma to give Kaylee time, had been circling through her thoughts.

              "You didn't have sex with me," she said, turning her head to look at him. "It was on purpose, because you knew I was messed up."

              "No!" Jack protested, sitting up straighter and turning to face her. He looked startled. She raised her eyebrows, a gentle challenge. "Well, not entirely. The other reason still exists. There are infected out here, we're not safe, not really. And-"

              "And you didn't want me to regret it, didn't want it to be because I was grieving."

              "There was that, too," Jack murmured, a sheepish grin sparking.

              "Thank you," she said softly, leaning towards him and resting her head on his shoulder. She felt the press of his cheek against the crown of her head and she squeezed his fingers firmly. It was just one more thing she owed him. Parts of her were slowly coming back to life, sparked back into existence by the guilt she felt over not being there for Emma. It had forced other guilts and pains back into existence, shutting out Jack after he shot her mother, killing Cynthia, her father's broken face as he float away. And she had never even said sorry to Jack. He was completely unaware of the revelations she had in the shower, just before she took off after Emma. He didn't know that she didn't blame him, that she knew it was
she
who was in the wrong
.

             
"I'm so sorry, Jack," she whispered against his shoulder. His muscles tightened and she leaned back to look up at him. "I mean for all of it. For Quinton and Cynthia. But mostly for me, for the way I treated you. I was wrong and I'm sorry."

              He let out a soft breath of a laugh and relaxed. She looked up at him quizzically. "Sorry," he said, squeezing her fingers. "For a moment there, I thought you were chucking me."

              She stared at him in confusion. "Telling me you didn't think you could do this anymore," he clarified, gesturing between them.

              She laughed too then, a soft breath through her lips. "No, this," she paused, pointing to him and then her, "this seems to be one of the only things I
am
capable of."

              He pulled her close and dropped a lingering kiss on the top of her head. "You do not have to be sorry," he spoke, his tone soft.

              She shook her head. "It wasn't your fault and I shut you out," she said. "I was wrong and I'm sorry. I should have said this a long time ago. You were keeping me safe, keeping me alive. I... I miss my mother. I always will. But you didn't take her away, the disease did. I just didn't want to accept that."

              He put his arm around her and pulled her flush with his side. She settled against him without complaint. His fingers toyed at her waist, drifting over the skin there, imprinting intricate patterns on her side with the heat of his fingertips. Need curled in her stomach but she tried to tamp it down, aware that her injured, drunk sister was only feet away.

              "I have method, you know," Jack whispered, giving Kaylee a squeeze. "A way to deal with the bad things that happen."

              "You mean other than sex?" she asked, aiming for lighthearted but feeling that they way her voice had unintentionally gone husky gave her away anyway. Jack cleared his throat and she could feel the tension of his fingers on her skin.