Thicker than Blood (5 page)

The remaining infected weren’t my only
concern. Everyone had heard the stories of people who had refused
safety behind the walls, hell-bent on living in the open and among
the infected. I had no idea what people like this were capable of,
considering they’d survived both the infection and its endless
rippling aftereffects.

But knowing that if I didn’t at least try to
get us out, that Leisel would die in here, it made the world beyond
the wall seem much less frightening and much more welcoming.

“Will you help me, Mason?” I stepped forward,
closing the distance between us, and placed my hands on his
chest.

He swallowed nervously, licking his fat,
greedy lips. He was hugely overweight, the only man left alive with
so many extra pounds on him. It was ridiculous, really. Sometimes
when he was on top of me, I could hardly breathe, let alone fathom
enjoying myself.

“I told you I can’t, Eve.” His large hands
roved across my back, pulling me closer to him. “You know I would
if I could. I prefer your smiles to your frowns.” His hands moved
lower, cupping my backside.

“If you can’t help me save her…” Looking up
at him through my lashes, the way he liked me to, I continued in a
whisper, “Then help us escape.”

I stared at him, my eyes pleading for him to
have mercy on my best friend, and on me. I knew he cared for me;
some might even have called it love. But I knew the truth—what he
felt for me wasn’t love. I wasn’t even sure the man knew what love
really was. To him, his marriage to me, his ownership of me, that
was what love was. And although he’d allow me a lot of things,
Mason’s warped idea of love wasn’t going to allow me this. He
wasn’t going to let me go.

“You don’t know what you’re asking, Eve.” He
shook his head slowly, a look of sad resignation crossing his
homely features, causing dread to pool in my gut.

“
I do,” I replied, unable to control the
tremor in my voice. “I’m asking you to help me save my friend. My
sister.” Running my hands up his chest, I wrapped them around his
barely distinguishable neck and brought us face-to-face. “Mason,” I
begged. “Please.”

Gripping my hands tightly in his, he regarded
me with pity. “You don’t know what the world is like out
there.”

“So I’ll learn,” I pleaded.

“You’ll be dead in a day.”

“So will she.” My voice finally broke,
cracking on the last syllable. “Mason, tomorrow they’ll execute
her, and I’ll die right along with her. Help get us out of here.”
Attempting to school my features, I looked up into his eyes. “If
you love me, let me go.”

The pitying look he’d had only seconds ago
vanished, instantly replaced by one of sheer greed. The same greed
he’d had in his eyes the day he forced this marriage on me.

I was his.

That was all there was to know.

Folding me against him, he forced my cheek
against his chest as if to comfort me, and ran his hand lightly
over the fall of my hair. This was typical of him, treating me as
if I were a good and docile wife, helping him maintain his illusion
that a woman like me would ever love a man like him. In reality, he
was a disgusting slob who’d used the end of structured civilization
to rise to heights he never would have in the old world, to have
the sort of women who never would have given him a second glance.
It was a harsh assessment, but when a man like Mason forced a woman
like me into a life such as this, I couldn’t help but be bitter and
hateful.

Guiding me slowly from the kitchen, Mason
began pulling me up the stairs. I tried to move away, insisting
that I wasn’t in the mood for sex, but as he continued pulling me,
ignoring my protests, I gave up struggling. When we arrived at our
bedroom, instead of following me inside, he shoved me into the
dimly lit room and quickly pulled the door shut. The following
sound of a click, signaling a key turning the lock, startled
me.

“Mason?”

“
It’s better this way,” he said through the
door, his tone hopeful. “You can remember her happy.”

My eyes rounded, wide with horror. “Mason,
let me out!” I yelled, reaching for the handle. Desperately, I
pulled on it, shaking it violently, but it didn’t budge.

“Please, don’t do this,” I pleaded as I
banged on the wood with my fists. “Please, Mason, you can’t do
this!”

“I’m sorry, Evelyn. I’m protecting you. I’ll
let you out in the morning…when it’s done.”

Over the sound of my pounding heart, I heard
footsteps as he descended the stairs. Sheer panic gripped hold of
me and I screamed for him to come back, to let me out. But he
didn’t return. Of course he didn’t.

Running to the window, I attempted to push
it open, but just like the damn door, it wouldn’t budge. From my
upstairs view, I could plainly see Mason bumbling down the walkway
in front of our house. Looking up in my direction, his eyes found
mine, his bulbous face, always covered in a thin sheen of sweat,
was glinting from the reflection of the setting sun. His eyes were
wide in apology, which was merely an act, because I knew he didn’t
truly care. The only thing Mason cared about was keeping me
here—keeping me for himself. Looking away from me, he continued
down the path.

I started pounding on the window, screaming
at him, calling him all the names that I’d wanted to for the past
three years, but never did. The hate-filled words that I’d kept
buried inside me to keep both Leisel and myself safe, all came
flying free from their cage. I continued pounding on the window,
half expecting it to break, but it never did. Maybe I was too
scared to hit it hard enough, though I wanted to. I wanted to smash
it, to cause shards of glass to rain down on Mason’s head, slicing
him open, to hurt him the way he was hurting me.

“I hate you!” I screamed.

Screeching in frustration, I sank to the
floor, my screams dissolving into self-pitying sobs. I couldn’t
help Leisel now. She was going to die, and I couldn’t help her. I
couldn’t even be there for her at the end. As I pulled my knees up
to my chest, my tears fell faster.

What would I do without her? Leisel had
always told me that I was the strong one, but I knew now it wasn’t
true. Not when it was her I needed to keep me strong.

• • •

The moon was full, sitting heavy and pregnant in the
sky when I heard Mason’s return. I strained my ears, listening
intently for his footsteps on the stairs, but he didn’t immediately
come for me. I could hear him stumbling around the house, no doubt
having drunk too much, probably in an effort to wash away his
guilt. Or perhaps he’d forgotten where he’d put me. Maybe he was so
drunk that he’d even forgotten what had transpired earlier.

It had happened before, him locking me up for
being what he’d considered insolent. There were times that he’d
forgotten entirely and let me out without another word about it,
looking at me curiously in the dark while he attempted to remember
what I’d done to deserve such punishment. Although this—Leisel’s
execution—was hardly something I would consider forgettable. But
this was Mason, a bumbling idiot, and anything was possible.

As hope blossomed inside me that today was
one of those days, I got to my feet and tiptoed slowly toward the
door. Pressing my ear against the wood, I listened to his slow and
careful steps climbing the stairs, realizing that the footsteps I
could hear were slow and cautious, and Mason was anything but. He
was clumsy and heavy footed.

The handle on the door jiggled. Glancing
around the room, I searched for something to arm myself with,
because I would kill him if I had to. I refused to stay in this
room and allow Leisel to die, not when there still might be a
chance I could do something to stop it.

I decided on the table lamp; after all, it
didn’t work anymore. This house—every house—was full of many things
that didn’t work anymore, all set up to make us more comfortable,
to help us forget the horror outside the walls.

As the handle twisted again, I readied myself
to swing.

“Eve?”

Jami!

Bursting forward, I slammed myself against
the door. “Get me out of here, Jami, please, get me out!” Again, I
tried the handle, twisting it and pulling on it.

“It’s locked,” he said, his voice sounding
deeper than usual through the thick door. “Is there another
key?”

Though he couldn’t see me, I shook my head in
answer. “There’s only one,” I whispered loudly. “But Mason keeps it
on him.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered. Several tense seconds
passed and then he yelled, “Stand back!”

I dropped the lamp. It fell to the floor with
a loud clatter and rolled against my feet. Quickly, I scrambled to
the other side of the room just as something heavy banged against
the door with a resounding thud. Again and again, the loud noise
echoed throughout the room, once, twice, and just after the third
bang the door swung open, slamming hard against the wall. As it
swung back, Jami caught it just before it could smack him in the
face.

Our eyes met, and he was grinning at me, a
grin that made me weak for him. I didn’t love this man, but in that
moment I felt something damn close to it. Running across the room,
Jami met me halfway, and I threw myself up against his chest,
pressing my lips against his, all while repeatedly mumbling my
thanks.

“How did you know?” I asked when I finally
pulled away.

He looked down at me, his eyes searching mine
as if assuring himself that I was all right. “You’d never leave her
alone like that.” He kissed me again, still grinning against my
mouth. “Let’s go get your girl.”

Pulling away from him, I took a moment to
really look at him, his handsome face clearly expressing what he’d
never said before. “Thank you,” I whispered, feeling overcome.

Taking my hand in his, Jami pulled me
through the house, not stopping until we’d reached the back door.
There he pulled a ski cap from his back pocket, similar to the one
he was wearing, then slipped it over my head and tucked my curls
inside it. Grinning again, he pulled his gun from its holster, then
led me from the house.

Adrenaline coursed through me, both from the
fear of getting caught and the excitement that maybe, just fucking
maybe, our plan would work. And Leisel and I would soon be free of
this place.

Leisel

“You shouldn’t be helping me,” I insisted, watching
as Alex hurriedly unlocked my handcuffs. Ignoring me, he finished
with my hands, then bent down to work on the shackles encircling my
ankles.

“What if we get caught?” I continued, knowing
that it was likely we were going to get caught. There were too many
people living in such a small space, a place that was heavily
guarded. “You’ll be killed alongside me.”

Alex remained as stoic as I’d always known
him to be, notorious for saying as little as possible. Finished
with my shackles, he shoved them away and got to his feet. I
remained where I was for a moment, seated on the hard bench as I
rubbed my sore wrists and stared up in wonder at him. For the life
of me, I couldn’t figure out why he was risking his own neck to
help me escape.

“I have a truck outside the walls,” he
finally said. “Hidden in the woods about a mile and a half from
here. Got food and water, a few gallons of gas stored inside. We
just need to get there.”

I gaped up at him. With the entire town on
our heels, a mile and a half away might as well have been in
China!

I shook my head. “We’ll never make it.”

Alex dropped to his knees, his dark eyes
burning holes through my thoughts. There was a spark there, alit
with a fever I’d never noticed in him before. But I had never
noticed much, always consumed with my own problems, my own
pain.

“I don’t care,” he gritted out through
clenched teeth. “I’ve been outside the walls, Leisel. Many, many
times. It’s not pretty out there, but it’s not pretty in here
either, is it? I’d rather be free.”

Free
. The word sang through me like one too many
cocktails, blinding me, drugging me with all its hazy, yet glorious
possibilities.

His hand found my shoulder as he bent down to
speak with me face-to-face, and it took everything I had not to
flinch away from his touch. Being touched by a man, thanks to
Lawrence, was not something I associated with tenderness or
comfort. Not in a very long time.

“Don’t you want to be free?” It was more a
statement than a question. A proclamation. A declaration.

I shrugged his hand away. “We need to get
Eve,” I said. “I won’t leave without her.”

He frowned and his brow furrowed, causing
delicate lines to appear on his otherwise smooth forehead, but he
said nothing in response.

“I won’t leave without her,” I repeated,
unable to imagine myself in life anywhere without Evelyn. I
couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving her behind in this awful
place.

“You won’t have to.”

Both Alex and I jerked at the sound of
another voice. As I shrank back in fear, Alex leaped to his feet
and quickly whipped his gun free from the holster on his hip.

Jami stood outside my cell, a ski cap hiding
his unruly hair, his normally impish expression now serious. Seeing
Alex’s gun, Jami’s hands went up in the air, including the one
holding his own weapon.

“I come in peace,” he said, giving us a half
smile. “And I’m glad I don’t have to kill you too.” He nodded at
Alex.

“Too?” I whispered, fear slithering down my
spine and chilling my blood.

“Michaels and Davidson?” Alex cocked an
eyebrow in question, and Jami gave him a single nod in
response.

“And Hamilton?” Alex asked, gesturing toward
the door that led out into the hub of the station.

Jami shook his head. “There’s too many out
front,” he said quietly. “I could only clear the back.”