RecruitZ (Afterworld Series) (16 page)

“It’s not my place, but ma’am, anyone who did that to you doesn’t deserve to live.”

My gaze fell to the glass counter and I laughed. “I couldn’t agree more.”

I paid for the items and took off, glancing at her one last time. Her eyes connected with mine, and a flicker of familiarity flashed through me. I stopped and turned back around to face her.

“You helped us.”

“Pardon me?” she asked, puzzled.

“During the outbreak.”

“You must have me confused with someone else.”

“You were in Spokane, right?” I pressed.

She shook her head, “No. This has always been my home.”

“Huh,” I said, turning back around. I waved at her one last time and walked to the van.

I was sure she was the lady who gave Gavin and me a place to stay for a night. We had found an old farmhouse, which we thought was abandoned, and a woman who looked like the clerk greeted us with a shotgun but eventually let us stay.

“Get what you wanted?” Preston asked, as I slid into the seat.

“I did. Now turn around,” I muttered, searching in the bag for the rubbing alcohol and cotton swabs.

Preston unbuckled his seatbelt and slowly turned to face the passenger window. I soaked a cotton swab and began pressing it along the cuts and gashes in his flesh. His body tensed as I gently cleaned the sores.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I just think it’s best we clean it out.”

Preston sucked in a breath through his teeth and nodded as I continued to clean his lacerations. When I finished the last of the wounds, I switched to dabbing the antibiotic ointment along his back.

“You’re a real mess,” I said.

“You’re one to talk,” he said, taking in a deep breath as my finger glided along the longest gash on his back. “Judging from what I saw on you, I should be doing the same.”

He was probably right. I felt my shirt sticking to most of my back and every time the fabric moved, it felt like my skin was being ripped off. I twisted the cap back on the ointment and tossed it in the plastic bag.

“Your turn,” he said, moving to face me.

“No way. I just dole out the charity.”

“Charity?” His brow arched and a smirk appeared.

“You know what I mean.”

“Turn around,” his voice became gruffer, and I did what he said.

I removed the oversized jacket and tossed it in the back of the van where it had come from. I gingerly began to unbutton my shirt, afraid to cause too much movement between my flesh and the cotton. Once I hit the last button I took a deep breath and slipped the shirt from my shoulders. My skin prickled from the chill in the air, but I continued to remove my shirt until I couldn’t tug it free.

“It’s stuck,” I said, quietly. It felt as if the material was glued to my back.

“I got it,” Preston whispered.

I dropped my hands and closed my eyes as he carefully removed my shirt, only stopping to gently nudge the material away from the wounds. The pain shot through me, but I clenched my teeth and exhaled slowly.

“You’re one tough woman,” he muttered.

I didn’t feel tough. Inside, I felt like I wanted to crumble or maybe I already had. I really didn’t know any longer. I heard the rustle of the bag as he removed the rubbing alcohol and cotton balls. The swish of the liquid as he poured it onto the cotton made my body tense.

“I’m going to start by your neck,” he said softly.

I nodded and felt the sting of the cold liquid as he gently applied the rubbing alcohol to my wounds.

“Is it as bad as it feels?” I asked.

“It’s not great,” he said, working his way down my back.

Every so often the burn made me gasp, but I tried to remain silent as he cleaned off my lacerations.

“Amazing what adrenaline will do,” I whispered, as he switched to patting the ointment onto my back. “I had no idea my injuries were so bad.”

“Our bodies are far more resilient than we give them credit for,” he agreed.

Resilient. Was it really resilience?

“At times,” I agreed.

There was a moment of silence between us, and I stared out the window. I noticed a couple going into the café, and my stomach growled.

“Hungry?” Preston laughed.

“I like to eat.”

“My kind of woman,” Preston joked, smoothing the ointment into my skin.

He helped me slide my shirt back on and the pain was almost unbearable, but I ground my teeth into my bottom lip and sat forward in the seat.

“Shit,” I muttered, as a red glow surfaced under the skin on my arm, reminding me of what I had seen earlier.

“What?” Preston asked.

I shoved my arm in front of him and his eyes steadied on the blinking light.

“Do you think it’s a tracker?” I asked. “I saw it back at the warehouse and completely forgot about it.”

“Man, I don’t know. But we’ve gotta get it out. It doesn’t look that deep.”

“You probably have one too,” I replied. “There are some small scissors in the first aid kit. I don’t know how sharp they are.”

He searched in the bag and found the kit, unzipping it and pulling out a tiny pair of scissors.

“I didn’t see anything like it on your arms or back,” I said, turning over my arm in front of him. “Just cut it out.”

He let out a deep breath and steadied his hand as he pressed the stainless steel point against my flesh. Preston opened the scissors and stuck the point in, clipping the skin once as the tiny device popped out of my arm.

“I don’t think that’s a tracker,” he said, holding it in between his fingers.

“How can you be sure?” I asked, pressing gauze on the tiny wound. It wasn’t as painful as the wounds on my back, which was surprising.

“I can’t.” He opened the door and flicked it out the door.

“You wanna slide your pants down and check?” I asked.

He laughed and unbuttoned his pants, slowly moving them down when I spotted the device embedded in his lower abdomen. It wasn’t flashing.

“You want me to do it?” I asked, pouring the alcohol over the scissors.

He nodded, and without wasting any time, I poked the scissors into his flesh and snipped the skin, freeing the device.

“Odd that this one isn’t on or flashing,” he muttered as I quickly dabbed the area with alcohol.

“Just another piece to the puzzle.” I sighed, as he tossed it outside.

A few moments of awkward silence passed between us as he pulled the waistband on his pants back up, and I tried not to glance at his body.

“Is there a reason why you didn’t tell me that Payback was your brother-in-law?” Preston asked. His voice fell to a hushed tone.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek and glanced over at him.

“I didn’t trust you,” I replied, turning on the ignition.

“Do you now?” he asked gently, his gaze probing.

“More than I trust myself,” I whispered, feeling the lump in my throat surface out of nowhere.

And it was true. I had been reckless, and now an innocent person was dead. I didn’t feel like I could trust my own gut reactions any longer.

Preston didn’t say anything for several minutes as I followed the road to the highway.

“You can’t stay at your house,” Preston began.

“I know,” I sighed. “But I want to get some things out of it, if I can.”

He nodded. “If they haven’t figured out that we escaped already, they will shortly. I’m not sure it’ll be safe to go back.”

“I want to get my truck back from the gym,” I said.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“I don’t either, but it’s something I need to do.”

“We’ll play it by ear,” Preston mumbled, as he looked out the window.

I shrugged. A twinge of annoyance sprang up. I wasn’t asking for permission. I’d already made up my mind. As long as there wasn’t anyone around, I didn’t see the problem with picking my truck up. I had so few possessions anymore the thought of losing one so meaningful made my heart ache.

Sparse landscape was traded for green fir trees and an abundance of blackberries as we drove over the western side of the mountain pass, and I began getting anxious. What would we find? Who would be looking for us?

“Do you mind if I turn on the radio?” I asked.

“No.”

The radio reception was horrible, and I flipped it back off. I felt Preston’s eyes on me, and wondered what he was thinking. I stayed focused on the road ahead of me.

“I hope that thumb drive has something useful on it,” I muttered.

“We can hope.” He was quiet for a moment. “I’m really sorry about your brother-in-law. I can’t even imagine.”

I took in a deep breath and thought about telling him what I noticed but something held me back.

“It just left me with more questions than answers,” I replied quietly. “Seems to be the trend in my life right now.”

Preston nodded and looked out the window. I glanced over at him and decided to say something.

“I’m not sure that was Peter. The real Peter.”

“What do you mean?”

“My brother-in-law had a birthmark on the back of his neck, and he also had a tattoo. Both were missing.” I pressed my lips together and waited for his response.

“Had there been any injuries surrounding the areas?” Preston asked.

I shook my head. “The flesh was intact in both places so the birthmark and ink should’ve showed up.”

Admitting this out loud produced something inside of me, a desperation of sorts, as the lack of information festered in my mind. There were too many loose ends and incomplete observations. I was frantic for answers—knowledge—and that was beginning to wear me down.

“I need answers, Preston,” I whispered. “Or I’m not sure how much longer I really care to continue. It’s so hard to navigate in this new world.”

Preston moved his hand to my knee. “I know,” was all he replied.

We drove in silence until we made it back to town.

“I’m going to drive by the gym.”

Preston nodded as I turned down the street. The parking lot was empty, except for my truck. I turned into the lot and parked the van. We both got out of the car, and I ran to the door of the building, searching for Frank. The lights were off, but I was able to see where he should have been. He was gone and so was any evidence that something had happened. The concrete looked as if it had been scrubbed clean of any evidence. If they were able to sweep things clean like this, I wasn’t sure we’d ever be able to get ahead of them.

“Let’s get a move on it,” Preston said, coming behind me. His hand slid along my waist, and he ushered me over to the truck.

“Keys?” he asked

I turned around and grabbed the truck key out of my bra. I didn’t trust pockets and so far my bra had served me well. I opened the door, slid in, and reached across the bench to unlock his door.

“The coffee shop is only a few blocks away, and it’s on the way to the house,” I suggested.

“I don’t think they’d be able to clean up that mess like this one,” he said. “But there’s only one way to find out.”

I turned onto the street and looked around for anything unusual, but everything seemed as it did before we were captured. I made a right into the parking lot, and we drove along the strip mall until we hit the coffee shop. Construction workers were already replacing the glass. There was police tape cordoning off the front entrance.

“So the police got involved in this one,” I said, as we drove by.

“Pull over up there,” Preston said, pointing at the grocery store.

“Do you think you should really go in there?” I asked.

“I’m not. Just gonna grab a newspaper out front.”

He hopped out of the truck and jogged over to the newspaper stand. Tossing in the coins, he grabbed the paper and glanced at the front page. His expression changed as he got back in the truck and I pulled away.

“They got involved alright, but they’re blaming local gangs,” his voice grim.

“Serious?” I sighed.

“Yeah.” He read through the article and shook his head. “They’re pointing at a dispute between two rival gangs but no arrests have been made.”

“With all the witnesses? Come on,” I said, irritated. “The guys were in TRAC uniforms for shit’s sake.”

I turned down the street, slowing as we approached my home. So far it looked unscathed. “Does it mention any names in the article?” I asked.

“It does. There’s an Albert Bense, who is the self-proclaimed leader of the South City Faction and Terrence Falino of the Western Port. Both claim no involvement.”

I turned into the drive, and my nerves began getting the better of me.

“I’ll make it as quick as possible,” I promised.

Preston nodded and followed my gaze to the front door. “Let’s do it.”

We both walked to the entrance. The door was still locked and the wire was still in place. If someone had entered this way, the wire wouldn’t be exposed.