Eat the Ones You Love (The Thirteen Book 2) (4 page)

No one spoke for a long time. Jenny sat in the back seat with Zeke, who kept nodding off on her shoulder. His skin was so hot it made her flinch to touch him. She kept watching for sweat, which would mean the fever was breaking. But there was no sweat, just pink, feverish skin, and she could smell it now. The smell of illness seemed to ooze from his pores and turned Jenny’s stomach. She had to get him well again. Zeke was the only one who knew where to find Anna Hawkins' mad science lair.

     
Casey first told Jenny about the bunker, where he lived with their mother. Jenny shuddered at the thought of Casey stuck underground in the middle of the Colorado wilderness with Anna Hawkins, who was slowly going insane. Casey had
 
been a prisoner there. And when Zeke saw the bunker in a vision, Jenny knew they had to go there: First the bunker in Colorado, then New York, where Abel told her Anna was being held prisoner.
 

And then Abel died too.

So many dead. All dead because they followed Jenny. All dead because of what her mother did. She couldn't dwell on it. It did no one any good to dwell.

Trix was driving because Declan had the tendency to slam on the brakes whenever he saw anything Living. Declan rode with his hoodie pulled down over his eyes and zipped up past his nose. But after about fifteen minutes, it was Trix who slammed on the brakes.

Zeke jolted upright.

“Are we there yet?” he slurred.

“Can we fucking talk about the elephant in the car?” said Trix, watching her through the rearview mirror.

“What are you talking about?” said Jenny.

Declan took off his hood.

“You smell like fucking blood,” said Trix.
 

“No I don’t,” said Jenny.
 

“Did you think we wouldn’t notice?” Trix asked. “We’re fucking zombies.”

“Jen,” said Declan, half turning to look at her. “I had to open my window. It’s okay to say it.”

“No it’s not,” said Jenny, suddenly angry. “It’s not fucking okay. Nothing’s okay.”

“So you had a snack,” said Trix. “I’m not angry. I’m just disappointed.”

Jenny glared at her. “I’m supposed to be fixed, remember? I’m supposed to be the goddamn cure. But all I can do all day every day is think about blood and meat and flesh. How is that okay? Does that seem normal to you?”

“Nothing’s normal,” said Trix. “I just don’t see why you have to be all secretive about it.”

“Because,” said Jenny. She looked at Declan. “I’m supposed to be better.”

“Like, you think you’re just going to wake up from being a rotter and just go back to being Charlene Cheerleader again?” said Trix. She took off her sunglasses and Jenny saw her white eyes. “Nothing is ever that easy, Jenny. Not for us. Not anymore. So just don’t lie to us, bitch. It hurts my feelings.”

Declan laughed.

“Okay,” said Jenny. She met Declan’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not the cure. Not yet.”

“I never asked you to be,” said Declan.
 

“I’m feeling uncomfortable in this conversation,” said Zeke.

“Don’t worry, psycho,” said Trix. “No one’s talking to you. Anyway, you reek of sick.”

“Thanks,” said Zeke. “And it’s
psychic
, not psycho.”

“Whatever, psycho.”

“I used to be a highly-regarded prophet,” Zeke mumbled before closing his eyes again, leaning his head against the back of his seat.

“Trix,” said Declan, but she ignored him and continued to address Jenny.

“Look, all I ask is that you tell me the truth, Jen. It’s all I want. I mean, I wouldn’t say we’re friends or anything touchy-feely like that, but I guess you’ve sort of grown on me.”

“Awww,” said Jenny.

“Like a fungus,” said Trix.

“Trix,” said Declan.
 

Jenny looked out the back where Declan was looking.

“What?” Trix snapped.
 

“Drive. Now!” said Declan.

Then Jenny did see something. Shapes in the trees. A gentle rumble in the distance that shook the car. People were starting to emerge from the brush. Heathens with mohawks and badly-shaved heads, women with dreadlocks and braids. And they all seemed to be carrying shining axes and large knives. The Living kept coming, even when Trix started the car and gunned it. They set off with a screech of tires, but the rumble grew louder. They’d only managed to get about ten feet before a truck burst from behind the brush, blocking the road. There was no room to go around it as the trees lined the road closely. Trix rammed into reverse and slammed down the gas pedal just as another truck on giant wheels blocked them in back.
 

Without saying a word, Declan and Trix got out of the car, Declan with his axe and Trix with her two long Bowie knives.
 

“Stay here,” Jenny told Zeke, who looked around with wide eyes.
 

“No,” said Zeke.

Jenny started to get out but Zeke grabbed her shirt, like an insistent child.

“You can’t,” he said. “This is bad. Bad, bad, bad.”

“Why?” said Jenny. “Did you have a vision?”

“No,” he said. “But we have to go.”

“Well, that’s going to be hard,” said Jenny. “I’ll be right back.” She plucked his hand off her shirt and got out of the car. Zeke rolled down the window with a great amount of effort. Jenny looked at him with annoyance.

“Close the fucking windows, Zeke. Lock the car.”

“You’ve already lost him.”

“What?” said Jenny. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” said Zeke. He closed his eyes for a moment as an apparent wave of dizziness took him. He opened his eyes again and looked at her. “It’s not your fault. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

Jenny looked at Declan, who was looking around him like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet. She looked back towards Zeke, but he’d cranked the window back up and seemed to have fallen over in the back seat. Jenny swallowed down bile.
 

There were at least fifty, Jenny saw. Dregs maybe. Or Heathens seeking revenge for the kid Declan killed. She and Deck and Trix were strong, but not strong enough for this many Living. And from the look on Declan’s face, Jenny knew she had to do something before he got himself killed.

“I’m hungry,” Declan said under his breath.

“Fuck this,” said Jenny. She stepped forward. “Fuck this shit,” she repeated louder so everyone could hear her. “What the fuck do you want?” she called, looking from face to face. There was hatred in each set of eyes. Jenny looked back at Trix, who wore a sneer. Declan licked his lips. Jenny knew that Trix hadn’t eaten in a while. It usually wasn’t a problem, but they were surrounded by warm, breathing Living. Jenny remembered what it was like. The constant
thumpthumpthump
of hearts in her ears, the smell of blood, the craving that couldn’t be denied. Declan and Trix were going to die here because they couldn’t see past their hunger. “What the fuck do you want?” Jenny said again, through clenched teeth.
 

Three stepped forward. Two big men in battered leather coats and a gorgeous black woman in nothing but a halter top and ripped jeans, stained brownish red. Jenny looked from face to face, waiting for someone to speak.

“Is this a fucking staring contest?” said Trix, “Because I think we might have an advantage over you fucks.”

The woman stepped forward.

“The Thirteen in the flesh, I presume,” she said, smirking at her little joke. “How sweet.”

“Who the fuck are you?” said Jenny. “What is this?”

“I’m Gretchen,” she said. “And we don’t want you. You…
things
can go free. Walk away.”
 

“You’re not getting our ride,” said Declan.
 

“We don’t want your shitty-ass car,” said Gretchen. “We want what’s inside.”

“You want our guns?” said Trix. “Ain’t no bullets, bitch.”

“Not the guns,” said Gretchen. She smiled unpleasantly. “We’ve come for the Prophet.”

Jenny glanced back at the car. Zeke was not visible in the back seat; he must have passed out. She met Trix’s eyes. Declan was biting his cheeks, fighting like hell not to eat the bitch.

“Kind of underdressed for a fight, aren’t you?” said Jenny. “What if one of us bites you?”

“Well, from what I hear,” said Gretchen, “you’re not really up to that anymore, are you, Jenny Undead? Or should I say, Jenny Alive?”

“Where the fuck did you hear that?”

“Word travels fast,” said Gretchen. “Now give us the Prophet and no one gets hurt.”

Jenny pulled her knife out the sheath strapped to her thigh and started cleaning her fingernails.

“The thing is,” said Jenny, “only one brand of people call him that.”

“They’re fucking Righteous?” said Trix. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this.”

“You don’t look like any Righteous I’ve ever seen,” said Declan.

“We don’t look like the others you’ve slaughtered, you mean,” said Gretchen, heat rising in her voice. “I’ve heard of you, too, Munro. You’re a fucking monster. You’re lucky I’m being so charitable today.” The behemoths at her sides shifted, eager to start hacking at Declan. She held them back with a slender arm on each of them. Jenny saw a silver cross glinting on her collarbone, then noticed they were all wearing crosses.

“What the fuck is this shit?” said Trix.

“As you may have noticed,” said Gretchen, “the West Coast Righteous are a little different than what you may be used to. We’re not as averse to take action as our brothers and sisters in the east.”

“Your brothers and sisters were nailing people to posts and leaving them to get eaten by rotters,” said Jenny. “You fucking call that averse to take action?”

Gretchen shrugged.
 

“It was fucking murder,” said Jenny.

“They were sinners.”

“Fuck you,” said Jenny. “You’re not getting Zeke.”

“Ezekiel has broken the law,” said Gretchen. “It’s time for him to face the consequences.”

“Heathens don’t have fucking laws,” said Jenny.

“But he’s not a Heathen, is he?” said Gretchen. “At least he wasn’t until you came along. He was Righteous when he committed his crime.”

“What crime?”

“He murdered his father,” said Gretchen. “You know that.”

“His step-father,” said Jenny. “And that prick needed killing.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” said Gretchen.
 

“He’s the fucking Prophet, you said so yourself.” Jenny narrowed her eyes. “He was defending his mother.”

“If that’s true, why isn’t she here now?” Gretchen raised a self-satisfied eyebrow. “You’d think she’d be thankful for her life.”

“She refused to come,” said Zeke, getting shakily out of the car. “She stayed behind with the assholes who worshipped that dickhead.”

“He was a great man,” said Gretchen.
 

“He was an abusive, murderous prick,” said Zeke, holding onto the car door for support. His face was so pale he looked green.

“Zeke, get back in the car,” said Jenny.
 

“No. I’m not putting you in danger,” said Zeke.

“Just fucking listen,” said Jenny. “Get in the car.”

“No,” he said weakly.

“GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!” Jenny screamed. Zeke sighed and sat back down in the backseat.
 

“Mother hen, are you?” said Gretchen.

“He saved my life. I feel a little responsible for him.”

“You didn’t have a life to save,” said Gretchen. “You should have stayed dead. Your friends did.”

Gretchen nodded and a smirking woman with half her head shaved came forward, holding heavy round objects in each hand. Holding them by their hair. Jenny’s stomach turned as she realized what they were. The woman laughed as she tossed the heads toward Jenny. They rolled to a stop at her feet. The dead and gaping faces of Declan’s friends stared sightlessly up at her. Beacon and Veronica — V to her friends — would never have Declan’s back again. Jenny felt her chest fill with ice.

“You motherfuckers,” she said.

Declan was staring at the heads, confused. He couldn’t process what was happening.
 

“What?” he said. He put his hand to his hair. His eyes were wide and Jenny could see the anger, the madness filling him. He looked at Gretchen then.

The two hulks stepped in front of her and Gretchen stepped back into the throng. In seconds Jenny lost sight of her. The two men moved forwards, smiling. The other Righteous followed suit and started moving towards them.
 

“Well, Jenny, looks like we are going to fucking die here,” said Trix.

“Yeah,” said Jenny. “What do you want me to do? Hand Zeke over? They fucking killed Beacon and V.”

“Fuck no,” she said. “I’m going to take down as many as I can.” Trix grinned in a way Jenny had never seen before. An evil glint in her eye, she moved towards the Righteous shuffling out of the trees. She twirled the knives in her hands and chomped her teeth. A few of the Righteous hesitated. Maybe they weren’t so different from the Chicago thumpers after all. Jenny could smell fear. She smiled.

“Declan?”

“Yeah?” he said, his voice far away, like he was barely there anymore. Jenny watched him lick his lips, still glaring at the two men advancing on Jenny.
 

“You hungry, baby?”

Now Declan was smiling too, and even the behemoths seemed nervous. Just as Jenny was about to run at them, there was another rumble in the air, this one even louder than the trucks. She turned to see a dune buggy sending up a cloud of dust as it skidded to a stop.

“What the fuck is this shit?” Gretchen said, stepping forward again.
 

“Looks like the cavalry,” said Trix.

A stocky guy with pale blond hair emerged from the buggy's dust. He grinned around him like he’d just arrived at the party of a century. He was soon joined by a tall, wispy woman, the ropes of hair piled on her head the same color as her companion’s. She looked around sternly, wary. They were joined by a lanky, morose-looking man with limp brown hair that hung in his eyes, and a woman with dark red lips and mahogany skin who huddled next to him.
 

“Is that bitch wearing fucking makeup?” said Trix.