Thicker than Blood (3 page)

“Evelyn, quickly,” she pleaded, gesturing for
me to come down. Repeatedly, she glanced over her shoulder, back to
me, and over her shoulder again, as if she was afraid that she’d
been followed, or worried that someone was watching her. Looking
her over, I realized that not only was she still wearing her apron,
but she also had flour in her hair, all telling me that she must
have departed the cookhouse in a hurry.

Fredericksville functioned like any other
well-oiled machine. Everyone had a job to do, and everything worked
fine as long as people did those jobs, and did them well. Just like
before the infection, there were certain jobs that held more
importance, more sway, than others. Contrary to public opinion, it
was my personal belief that every job held just as much importance
as any other, simply because a leader could not exist without his
citizens, and vice versa. Even the children responsible for
recycling our garbage were important, and in my humble opinion,
much more so than the cruel men in charge.

Not everyone shared my belief, though. My
husband, the superior bastard that he was, was one of the many men
around here always looking down on anyone he believed to be lower
than him.

Turning away from Angela, I found Jami
sliding his military jacket over his broad shoulders, his pants
once again buttoned. Realizing another of our few-and-far-between
moments had ended, a pang of regret passed through me. I watched
him tucking his gun back inside its holster, until his gaze finally
found mine.

Smirking and without another word, he turned
away, already heading for the stairs. No kiss good-bye, not even a
longing glance over his shoulder. I wanted to be pissed about his
indifference; I should have been pissed. My adoring husband always
gave me a kiss good-bye whether I wanted one or not, yet Jami gave
me nothing. Nothing to cling to when he wasn’t here, nothing to
tide me over while Mason demanded I be his adoring wife. As was his
usual MO, Jami just left, leaving me desperate for more of him.

I heard the soft click of the back door as it
closed, signaling Jami’s departure, yet I continued to stand there,
waiting for one more minute—the longest of my life—before
descending the stairs. Taking the steps two at a time, I shook my
head, dismayed. That was too close; we were getting reckless. Or at
least I was, although I wasn’t exactly sure if I cared anymore.

No, scratch that. I did care. My thoughts
veered to Leisel, my best friend. She was the only family I had
left, and I couldn’t deny that I still in fact cared. I had to
care, for her sake, because if I didn’t, she wouldn’t have survived
this place, this world. Her dependence on me and my strength could
grate at times, but then, I couldn’t fault her so completely. I had
dark days of my own during which I longed to end it all, to eat a
bullet, finally shutting the world out. Then I would think of her,
and would be unable to go through with it. In a way, I guess you
could say we were constantly saving each other.

We’d promised each other—back when this all
had begun, when the world crumbled right before our eyes, taking
with it everything we’d ever known, everyone we’d loved—that we’d
never give up. That we’d survive no matter the cost, that we would
always stay together. Always. Those promises had been hard ones to
keep, and Leisel especially had suffered more than I. Daily, I
hated myself for what she’d been forced to endure, for not being
able to do more to protect her.

Reaching the dark foyer, I flipped the lock
and pulled open the door, quickly backing away as Angela barged
inside. She seemed frantic, a sheen of sweat glistening on her
wrinkled forehead, and I began to fear that there’d been a breach
in the walls. It had happened once before, during the first year
when the walls had yet to be completed. A large group of the
infected had managed to find their way inside, and were freely
roaming the streets. But it had ended nearly as soon as it had
begun. Our soldiers had controlled it, quickly and efficiently.
Still, we’d lost people.

That had been three years ago. Three long
years spent in this infection-free…prison.

“It’s Leisel,” Angela said, and my rambling
thoughts came to a crashing halt. Grabbing the short, stocky woman
by her shoulders, I lowered my face to hers.

“Where is she?” I demanded, the quiver in my
voice laced with worry.

“She’s—they took her!” She started to sob,
hiccupping sobs that I didn’t have patience or time for.

Still gripping her shoulders, I shook her
hard. “Where is she?” I yelled. But Angela was still crying. I
frowned down at her as annoyance and worry wormed their way into my
panicked state. It wasn’t as if Angela and Leisel were close, yet
the woman was behaving as if they were.

“Stop crying and tell me where the hell she
is!” I shoved her backward, slamming her back against the door.

My body, that only moments ago had been
heated by lust, was now humming with anger. Leisel was a mouse, a
quiet little mouse who had never done a damn thing to anyone. She’d
never once caused trouble in Fredericksville, always keeping to
herself, barely speaking to even me because of that bastard husband
of hers. She was a broken and beautiful ghost, my sweet
Leisel.

“I swear to God, if he’s hurt her again…” I
cursed under my breath, releasing Angela to begin pacing the length
of the room.

Lawrence Whitney, Leisel’s husband and our
oh-so-enigmatic leader, was outwardly charming and charismatic,
everything a leader should be. He was what the people of
Fredericksville had needed in the beginning, someone to put their
broken world to rights, and they’d followed him blindly. But
privately, with Leisel, he was a monster. Beating and abusing her,
using her in every horrific way possible, simply because he could.
Because he knew that no one could or would stop him.

“I’ll kill him this time,” I mumbled. “I
will.” Tears began to form as a sense of helplessness washed coldly
over me. Angela and I both knew I was full of shit; we both knew
that I wouldn’t do a damn thing. Because I couldn’t touch that man
without bringing hell down on both myself and Leisel.

Knowing how helpless I was made me hate him
as much as I hated the infected that plagued the world beyond our
walls. He was a monster, and no better than they were.

“He’s dead, Eve. Lawrence is dead,” Angela
said, her eyes huge.

I scowled at her. “What?” I cried. “How?”

And then suddenly I smiled, because I
didn’t care how. What did it matter? He was dead and Leisel was
free of him, free of his torture. Whoever she was passed on to
next, they couldn’t be any worse than Lawrence. So I continued
smiling because this was a good thing, as good as life could get
inside a walled community that had so easily disregarded a
century’s worth of women’s rights in favor of a
male-ruled totalitarian
state
.

“Where is she?” I asked, laughing despite
myself. I suddenly wanted to find her, to be with her that very
instant, wrapping my arms around her and sharing in what I could
only imagine would be tears of sheer joy.

It was stupid of me to behave this way.
Stupid and reckless. It was dangerous for anyone to know that I was
this happy about Lawrence’s death, but to hell with it, I didn’t
care. He was dead, and my best friend was free of him.

“It was Leisel,” Angela mumbled.

“What was Leisel?” I asked.

“Leisel killed him.” Angela’s gaze dropped as
more tears fell from beneath her lashes. “She killed him, Eve. And
they’re going to execute her tomorrow.”

At her shocking words, I stumbled backward as
if I’d been punched in the gut, as if Lawrence had just hit me with
one of his vicious blows. Leisel, my innocent Leisel, had killed
him? I shook my head, refusing to believe it, yet Angela was
nodding like one of those obnoxious bobble-head figurines, smiling
and forever bobbing its ridiculously large head.

Only Angela wasn’t smiling.

“Take me to her,” I said from between gritted
teeth.

“
I can’t. They’ve locked her up. She’s in
the tower already. I have to go because if they notice that I’m
gone…” Angela pressed her lips together and glanced
away.

I didn’t bother pressing her for more. What
was left to say?

Several seconds of uncomfortable silence
passed before Angela turned away and opened the door. Glancing back
over her shoulder, she swallowed thickly. “I’m so sorry, Eve.”

She really was sorry; I could see how
genuinely sorry she was. She knew what Leisel meant to me, the
lengths I would go to for her. And unlike the rest of the town,
Angela had a vague idea of what Lawrence had put Leisel
through.

Again, disbelief clouded my thoughts. Leisel
had just killed a man in cold blood? It didn’t make sense, though I
supposed that everyone had their limits. Worry for her began
burning through my veins. What had he done to get her into such a
state that she couldn’t take any more?

It all seemed so wrong, considering
everything I thought I’d known about my best friend. How had such a
sweet and caring woman, a total book nerd who’d taught half the
kids in Fredericksville how to read and write, actually hurt
someone? And she hadn’t just hurt him, but had ended him.

I should have seen it coming, should have
realized that she’d been near the end of her rope. There were only
so many times a person could be beat down, again and again and
again, before they broke entirely. Leisel had obviously broken, and
why wouldn’t she?

Hurting Leisel was like kicking a blind
puppy—no one of sound mind would ever do such a thing. Lawrence, I
finally decided, had gotten his just deserts, with no one to blame
but himself.

How stupid we’d been, the both of us. Stupid
for thinking that a small group of survivors that had happened on
us in our darkest hour, promising safety and security, hadn’t had
ulterior motives. We’d simply traded one hell for another.

I found myself sneering at the wall,
remembering how happy I’d been for Leisel when Lawrence had chosen
her to marry. He’d seemed such a strong leader at the time. In his
early forties, charismatic and handsome, and more importantly,
seeming so willing to do whatever it took to help rebuild our
crumbling world. I’d even been a bit jealous, wishing I had a man
who seemed so dependable and caring.

Until the first bruise had appeared; then I’d
felt only anger and regret.

“How did she do it?” I called out after
Angela’s quickly retreating form.

Turning, she anxiously looked in all
directions. “She stabbed him,” she said quietly, swallowing
nervously, her eyes still darting back and forth. Another heartbeat
passed, then Angela gave me a pitying glance before running off
down the path and disappearing into the night.

Shocked and horrified, I clasped a hand
over my mouth. Why stabbing was so much worse than anything else, I
didn’t know. Perhaps because it
was
so much more personal, so up close, and much more vicious
than I would have ever expected of Leisel.

Surely this would help her. How clearly
unravelled she must have become to resort to such extreme lengths,
killing him in such a brutal and violent manner. In the old world
it would have meant something, her defense would have been cut and
dried, crystal clear to a jury as the evidence of her abuse was
laid out for them. But in this new world, here in
Fredericksville…

I stumbled forward, dropping to my knees,
already knowing that Leisel had no defense. No matter what
happened, her voice wouldn’t be heard. Justice here wasn’t justice
at all, and no one had the time for sob stories. Surviving was all
that mattered anymore, the protection of our community from outside
threats, and ensuring that everyone continued to do their part to
keep the cogs turning, to keep humanity afloat.

A sob began to build in my throat, making it
hard to breathe. “No,” I whispered to the darkness. “Please,
no.”

I’d promised to protect her, to keep her
safe. But I’d broken that promise, told her to forget about her
previous husband, her previous life, even though I hadn’t—couldn’t.
I still thought about it every day, my first husband and our lives
before the infection. I’d been a hypocrite and a liar, and part of
me felt that if I’d been honest with her from the start, instead of
always shielding her from my own pain, that maybe things wouldn’t
have ended like this.

Choking back my bitter tears, I slowly got
back to my feet and looked around my sham of a home.

Three months after the infection had arrived
in America, Leisel and I had both lost our husbands, our entire
world. It took everything we had to carry on when all we wanted to
do was curl up and die. I’d kept us strong, kept us fighting. I’d
lied through my teeth, choking back my own sorrows in order to
comfort and soothe hers, and now I was going to lose her
anyway.

It had all been for nothing.

But then again, that was what I did. I stayed
tough despite all odds, and even in the face of utter devastation,
I’d always been the resilient one. I’d always refused to give
up.

And, by God, I refused to give up now.

Leisel

Seated on a lone bench in the corner of one of two
concrete rooms inside the Fredericksville police station, both my
hands and ankles bound in handcuffs, I stared blankly through the
candlelit cell at the guard stationed to watch over me.

Alex was younger than me by about five years,
still in his early twenties, and I’d previously thought one of my
late husband’s most trusted friends. He’d been the one who’d always
quietly spirited me away to the infirmary when I’d been too injured
to walk, who’d made excuses for my absences, who’d ensured that my
husband’s sick secrets remained just that. Secrets.