Until the End of the World (Book 2): And After (7 page)

Thirty people stand there, probably all the adults who heard the radio and could leave their posts. But I know they’re not there because they doubted us; they wanted to see it with their own eyes. I think we all harbored some shred of hope—one that we knew would never be realized—that the winter might end this. That the fifty percent who’d survived the cold wouldn’t be able to walk far on damaged muscle, or that they would rot away. We hoped for something, anything, other than the alternative. Something other than this.

We’ve heard from the Safe Zone in New York City. They’d stopped broadcasting in the winter, but they’re up and running again. I’m not sure how they’ve made it this far—hundreds of people vs. eight million or so Lexers. Maybe only half that number of Lexers now, due to the winter, but they roam the city in endless circles since no one, including the survivors, can leave.

Maria’s not with them, we checked again to be sure. The New Yorkers live in the sky, on the tops of buildings. They drink rainwater and grow what they can on rooftop gardens and in backyards, but they say there’s still a lot of food to scavenge even though those promised FEMA food drops never arrived. From their vantage point, with high-powered telescopes, they’ve seen a few pods across the water in Jersey, pods that might end up here later this summer.

Over thirty have come out of the woods in the past week. It may not be a lot, but one group came to the fence while the kids were outside. We spotted them right after they left the trees, but so did the kids. Bits was so scared that her nightmares returned, and she’s just had another one starring her mother.

“What if you die too, Cassie?” she asks me with trembling, tight lips. “I’m scared you’re going to die.”

I kneel at the edge of her bed and find her hand under the blankets. I wish I could promise her it won’t happen, and I lower my head to hers. “I’m planning to be here a long time, honey. I can promise you that.”

She attempts to hold in her tears, but one makes a glistening track on her cheek in the moonlight and then drops to her pillow. “But what if you do?”

“You’ll always be taken care of. There are so many people who love you, you know. I wish I had as many people as you do. I have, like, five, and you have a million.”

“There aren’t even that many people here.”

“That’s what makes it so amazing,” I say. Bits rolls her eyes and lets out a soft giggle. “Don’t worry about me. And don’t worry about you. Let me worry about that, okay?”

I press my lips to her forehead, and she closes her eyes. I sit on the edge of her bed to wait for the even rise of her chest. Her eyes flicker under their lids, and even in sleep her hand clutches the locket I gave her. It’s big as lockets go, a little less than three inches long, the kind in which Victorians would put miniature paintings of their loved ones. I painted a tiny image of her mother this winter, from my memory of the photograph we left behind. Bits cried because she’d forgotten what her mother had looked like.

“You look just like her—beautiful blue eyes, heart-shaped face and cute nose,” I’d said. “All you ever have to do is look in a mirror.” But still, she carries it everywhere.

I kiss her forehead and creep back to bed. Adrian pulls me close with a sleepy arm, but I can’t fall back asleep. Bits lies motionless in the moonlight. I’ve watched her sleep enough times to know that I can’t always see her breathe, but suddenly I’m convinced that she isn’t. The fear rises up so fast that I throw Adrian’s arm to the side and rush to get my hand on her chest. Once I feel the up and down of gentle breathing, I let out my own breath and cross the floor again.

Adrian’s eyes are open. “What’s wrong?’

“I thought she wasn’t breathing,” I say softly. “I know, it’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous.”

I get back under the covers and whisper, “So I’m not crazy?”

“You’re a little crazy.”

He chucks me under the chin, but I can’t shake the panicky feeling in my belly. There’s so much that can go wrong, and I feel like it’s only a matter of time before our luck runs out. We escaped Brooklyn. We made it here. I’m in bed with Adrian, something that should have been impossible. A person can only be so lucky. I feel tears brewing and clench my teeth. I barely cried all winter, but this time I lose the battle.

Adrian pulls me to him. “Don’t cry, sweetie. We’ll be all right.”

I nod into his chest. I want to cross my fingers, knock on wood, throw some salt in the hope of keeping bad luck away. I know it won’t do any good, but there are two things I don’t think I could stand to lose, and they’re both in this room with me right now.

Ana’s been on duty at the gatehouse all night, and now she rushes into the kitchen. “There’s a pod of Lexers at the tower.”

Adrian’s at the tower, the little cabin on stilts before the first gate. I drop the fork in the bacon pan and turn to Mikayla, who shoos me out with wide eyes. I wrestle my gloves over my sweaty hands and pick up my cleaver at the door. We rush out the back door and into the lot that holds the vehicles. Ana opens the ambulance door, and I take the passenger’s side.

“Caleb’s gone to the tents to wake everyone.” She hands me her radio. “Here, call. They’re fine. Nothing can get to them up there.”

I press the button. “Adrian? We’re coming!”

“Cass, we’re fine,” he says in a calm voice. “There’s only fifty of them, and the ladder’s up. Relax.”

He’s surrounded by Lexers, and he’s telling
me
to relax. Nelly opens the rear doors and climbs in with Jamie, Shawn, Dan, Caleb and Marcus. Ana thrusts the key into the ignition and revs the motor. She’d barely driven before Bornavirus, and now she drives like she does everything else—maniacally. There are thumps and curses from the back when she does a donut and races down the driveway. She slams on the brakes beside Peter at the first gate, which results in several more thuds from the back.

“What’s the plan?” he asks.

Killing them through the fence is easy, but taking on fifty in a clearing is a good way to get killed. I speak into the radio. “Adrian? What do you want us to do? Should we come down and lead them away?”

“They’ll just come back. We’re going to spike them and then shoot the ones we can’t reach. We’ve got plenty of ammo. Might draw some others, so we don’t want you guys out here. We’re fine.”

It’s killing me how calm he is. Doesn’t he know this is when a person is allowed to freak the fuck out? I stare at the radio and grit my teeth.

Nelly kneels in the opening that connects the back to the cab and rests a hand on my leg. “He’s fine, darlin’.”

I take a breath and speak into the radio. “Okay. We’re up at the gate. Tell us when it’s safe.”

“We will.”

We sit in silence. The entrance that allows vehicle access to the farm is corrugated metal, with a viewing platform on either side. I climb one and stand in the early morning light, wishing I could see what’s happening a quarter of a mile down the road. But I can only stare at the trees while I imagine them dropping the long spikes into the top of the Lexers’ skulls from the cabin’s walkway. I jump at the first gunshot; now they must be going after the ones they can’t reach.

Movies make you believe that head shots are easy. Point, pull the trigger and you’re good. Center mass is easy, but it’s a lot harder to get a head shot in a moving person than they would have you believe. Head shots can be tricky on paper targets, but add in the movement, fear and lack of time to properly sight, and they become extremely difficult. Adrian’s good at this, though, and he has time on his side. I know he’s safe, but it’s out of my control, and I hate that feeling.

Nelly climbs up next to me. His hair is crazy and his clothes are askew, but his eyes are sharp.

“Who’s with him?” I ask “I can’t remember.”

“John,” Nelly says.

It doesn’t make me any happier that two of my most favorite people in the world are down there, but my heart slows; John’s the best marksman I’ve ever seen. Now that I know it’s him, I can tell by the reports that carry our way. Slow and steady. Boom. Boom. Boom. Nelly puts his arm around my shoulder when I shiver.

“They’re fine,” he says. “Don’t worry. Talk to me about something.”

“Okay. How’s Adam?”

He shakes his head and snorts.

“It was your idea, Nelly!” I say. “The least you can do is talk to me about it.”

“Okay. He’s fine. I like him.”

I keep my eyes on the road. “
Like
like?”

There’s no response. We have to be close to twenty shots now, but those head shots are hard. “Nelly!”

“Yes, Cass.
Like
like.”

“So, what base—”

“Cass?” Adrian’s voice comes through the radio.

“I’m here.”

“They’re all down. You guys can come help with clean up. But be careful, there might be others in the woods.”

I close my eyes. “Okay, we’ll be there in a minute.”

***

Bodies cover the grass around the lookout. Adrian and John lean on the walkway railing, looking very pleased with themselves. I climb the ladder they lower, and when I get to the top Adrian pulls me to him. I grip the back of his coat and exhale.

“I was fine, sweetie,” he says.

“I was still scared. What if it’d been me here?”

“I would’ve been terrified.”

I let go of Adrian and hug John. “Good job, you guys.”

“It was fun,” John says, smiling under his beard. “I’ve missed the range.”

“Awesome. Well, let’s not make a habit of it.” I look around the clearing. The others have begun to drag the bodies into a pile, and the trailer’s on its way down to move the bodies to the field we use for that purpose. “I don’t think we should have anyone down here anymore. It’s not worth it. Any people who show up can come to the first gate.”

“I think you’re right,” John says, and starts down the ladder. “I’ll help with disposal.”

“We should go clean up, too,” I say to Adrian.

“Okay,” he says. He pecks my lips, and a familiar smell carries over the aroma of rotten brain cavities that permeates the air.

I open my mouth in shock and put out my hand, palm up. “Give me one.”

He puts on a puzzled expression. “Give you one of what?”

“I know you have Twizzlers! I can smell them.” We have a bit of a candy habit, and there’s not much of it left around here.

“I found them in the bottom of the food locker,” he whispers. “Don’t worry, I saved you one.”

“One? One lousy Twizzler? That’s worse than none! And after I raced down here to save your life.”

Adrian winks. “So little faith in me. I saved most of them for you and Bits. I’ll give them to you later.”

The guys toss the bodies into the trailer while Ana, Jamie and I watch the woods. This is one time when I take full advantage of being female—if I don’t have to lift a heavy, stinking body, I’m not going to complain. A branch snaps, and I spot movement in the trees. Ana’s head whips my way when I make the short whistle we use to call each other. There’s another flash of something pale, coming closer now that they’ve locked on us. There are five of them, so I hold up five fingers right before they step into the clearing. Some Lexers seem to move at the same speed as last summer, while others seem to be dragging their feet even more than they did. Thankfully, this group is the latter.

My stomach churns with the usual mixture of fear and disgust. I’m not like Ana—I always want to run away, but I’ve trained myself to stand and wait when it makes sense to do so. Still, it’s difficult to fight against your body’s survival instincts. I tell myself that there will be five fewer Lexers in a minute. That every one counts. The Lexer I kill might have been the one who would’ve bitten Bits, or Adrian, or anyone else on the farm. We’re fairly safe there, but we have to leave—to get wood, to farm, to find supplies—and five fewer might be the difference between making it home or coming to the fence as one of them.

Ana and I situate ourselves next to each other, cleavers in hand, so they’ll come at us together. We won’t use guns unless it’s unavoidable. More noise makes more Lexers, and it can become a never-ending cycle. When they’re close enough, we split apart and move around to either side. It takes the Lexers a moment to work out what’s happened, and by then we’ve finished off one each. Cleaver in, cleaver out.

Two move toward me, one to Ana. I put the cleaver edge under the next one’s chin and shove. What would have taken all my strength last year is like a gentle push in comparison, due to all the practice I’ve had. It kills her and pushes her backward into her one remaining friend, who’s knocked to the ground. I move forward, but Adrian rams his machete through its head before I get there. He leaves it there, hilt up, and raises a hand in the air.

“You couldn’t have moved back and let us all take them?” he asks through a clenched jaw.

“We were here.” I knew we had them, no matter how shaky my hands were. “They were extra slow, did you notice?”

“No, I didn’t notice, because I was watching you do something completely idiotic.”

He stares past me into the trees, eyes flinty. I glance around to gauge everyone’s reaction, but no one else looks particularly upset. They do look interested, though.

“Can we talk about this later?” I ask in a low voice.

“Fine,” he says, but he still won’t look at me.

Ana gives me a sympathetic look when Adrian stalks off. She gets this all the time, and not only from Peter, but I never do. I stare down at the bodies in confusion, and then I get angry.

After we’ve taken care of the Lexers and cleaned up, Adrian and I head to our room to change. He hasn’t said a word to me since the clearing. I stop in the bathroom first, and by the time I’ve made it to our room I’m ready for a fight. I walk in and hang my jacket on a hook.

“Wow, you’re actually hanging up your coat?” he asks from where he sits on the bed.

I spin around, fists clenched. “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem is that you’re so worried about everyone’s safety, but when you have seven other people to help, you decide to take on Lexers by yourself.”