Page 26

I’m not dead.

That’s my first conscious thought.

I’m not sure how or why I’m still alive after that fall. My entire body hurts, my head and right shoulder the most.

It doesn’t feel like I can move, so I don’t. I lie there in the shallow water at the bank of the river. I’m soaked. And injured. And I’ve lost Deck and everyone else I know and care about. They’ll be long gone now, and without a vehicle I’ll never catch up.

Trisha will for sure have returned to the Jeep, made up a story to excuse my absence to Carl, and left me completely abandoned.

Deck would never have knowingly left me behind, but the truck with him and the others had already started driving.

He won’t know I’m gone until they stop again, which will probably not be until midday .

He’s gone.

All of them are gone.

He’ll ask where I am. He’ll be worried and upset.

But Trisha will have concocted some sort of plausible excuse by then, and because Deck and I have been fighting, he might believe her.

Even if he doesn’t, Logan will never let him leave to come look for me on a doomed quest. Logan is practical—more so than any of his other traits—and he’ll know there’s no chance of finding me in such a situation.

So no one will come.

No one will save me.

I’m all alone and always will be.

This brutal world has finally won.

So I might as well just lie here until something comes along that kills me. An animal or a bad guy or something.

It doesn’t seem worth fighting anymore.

I’ve done enough.

In this state of mind, I lie there in a few inches of water on a rocky riverbed for a long time.

What finally gets me to move is an aggravating itch between my shoulder blades.

It nags at me for a while until I can’t stand it anymore.

With an exasperated groan, I manage to sit up and reach around with my left arm so I can scratch it.

My clothes are soaked. My head is still throbbing. My skin is cut in several places, and my jeans have ripped from one knee and up toward the thigh. My shoulder only hurts when I move it the wrong way, but when I do it’s torment.

If Deck were here, he’d help me to my feet. Check my shoulder and probably improvise some kind of sling. Then make me start walking until I got where I need to go.

I want him so much I start crying. Honestly, I’d take anyone. Logan would tell me to toughen up and get moving. Burgundy would sympathize. Even Micah would make a few smart comments to provoke me into proving him wrong.

But none of them are here. Just me.

I pull out my gun to make sure it’s still working. It is. It didn’t even get very wet. Then I stand up to make sure my legs are still functional.

They are.

At the very least, I can get out of this water. I shuffle onto the bank, searching for the shallowest rise so I can climb up that way.

I wrench my shoulder a few times trying to pull myself up, but I manage.

When I reach the spot where I encountered Trisha and those guys, I jerk to a stop when I see the big man still there, leaning against a tree with his eyes closed.

I don’t think I make a sound, but he senses me anyway.

When his eyes open, he looks surprised and then gives me a creepy smile.

“Well, whadya know? You did make it. Becker was sure you were dead, but Trisha said you were a tough little cookie and I should stay here to make sure you don’t follow them.

Why don’t we have a little fun before?—”

I shoot him.

Right in the middle of his chest .

He’s dead before he can finish his sentence.

I always assumed killing my first person would be traumatizing, but it’s not. I’m numb. Blank. I leave him where he slumps and keep limping toward the road we were following before.

There’s more sun on the road, so my clothes will dry faster. I start walking west. I might as well.

I’ve got nothing else to do.

A long time passes. I’m not sure how many hours, but it feels like an eternity. My clothes and hair dry. My head stops aching, but every other part of my body still does. The sun sinks lower, but it’s not even close to evening when I’m aware of a sound behind me.

I’m so out of it I don’t know what it is until an old pickup truck approaches.

If I were thinking better, I would have run off the road to get out of sight, but I’m not capable of that kind of decision-making at the moment.

I step over so they can get around me and lift my gun toward the passenger-side window.

I don’t shoot. Even in my current state of mind, I can recognize the difference between a threat and not a threat.

This woman is not a threat. She’s older—maybe around fifty—with a strong, pleasant face and a concerned expression. “Do you need help?” There’s a younger man behind the wheel of the pickup with thick brown hair and beard.

I blink. Try to think through the question. “I… I don’t know.”

“It looks like you were hurt. And you shouldn’t be all by yourself on the road like this. Will you let us help? ”

“I don’t know you.”

“No. Of course you don’t. But we’re decent people. I’m Greta. This is my son, Jimmy. We have a farm about twenty miles west. If you don’t have any place to go, you’ll be safe there.”

“I… I do have a place to go. My… people are that way.” I point forward on the road. “I got left behind.”

“I see.” She frowns thoughtfully for a moment. “Well, at least we can give you a ride until we turn off. It will save you a lot of steps.”

I peer at her. My first instinct is to say no, but she’s right. If I can get a ride for at least several miles, it might save me a day’s worth of walking. No one is fully trustworthy nowadays, but there’s nothing about this woman or her son that set off alarm bells in my mind.

At this point, what exactly do I have to lose?

“Okay,” I say at last. “Thank you. I would appreciate it.”

Greta opens the door and then scoots over toward her son to make room for me to sit beside her. “That’s better. We have around twenty miles on this road before we turn off, so we can at least take you that far.”

“I really appreciate it,” I say, climbing in and situating myself beside her.

“Now, while we’re driving, I hope you’ll think about whether you want to stick with these people or find something better for yourself. What kind of decent people would leave you behind?”

Greta appears to be a no-nonsense, efficient kind of woman, but there’s a maternal note underlying her briskness that makes my throat tighten. “They… they didn’t mean to. Well, one of them did it on purpose, but the others didn’t know.”

She tsks her tongue and glances over at Jimmy, who appears to be listening even though he hasn’t said a word. “Even so, someone should be looking out for you better.”

I think about Deck and start to shake internally. Then the shudders spiral out toward my fingers and knees. “It’s not…” My voice breaks. “There’s someone who wants to, but I… but I pushed him away.”

“Why did you do that?” She asks the question as if she has every right to an answer, even from a stranger.

There’s no reason not to tell her since I’ll never see her again after today. “I guess I… I was scared.”

“Of what? If he scares you, then you need to pick out a better man.”

“No, no. He doesn’t scare me. He never has.

There is no better man than him. It’s just…

I don’t know. It’s so different than it used to be.

It’s not as easy as getting a boyfriend before Impact.

It’s… bigger than that. The stakes feel a lot higher.

It’s life and death. Who you choose and how it works out and where you end up if it ends.

I mean, if it ends badly, then I could… I could lose everything that’s keeping me safe.

So I guess it just felt safer to try to take care of myself. ”

“No one can take care of themselves. Not anymore. We’ve got to have people, and we’ve got to hold on to them.”

A tear slips down my cheek. I swipe it away quickly and stare down at my lap. “I should have done that. Now I might have lost them all for good.”

“I don’t know about that. How far ahead of you are they?”

“A few hours, I think. I’m not exactly sure.”

“Well, that’s not too far. You can make up some time with me and Jimmy. They’ll stop traveling in the evening, won’t they?”

“Yes.”

“See, then you’re fine. You can catch up with them then. I don’t like dropping you off on your own though. Maybe we can take you farther.” She glances at her son again.

Jimmy clears this throat. “We can keep goin’ awhile, but we gotta get home before dark too.”

“I know.” Greta sighs. “We’ve been trading with a community half a day east, but the others will send out a search party if we’re not home by dark.”

“Of course you need to get back home. If you can just take me until you’re turning off this road, it will be more than I could have hoped for.”

Greta tsks her tongue some more. It’s obvious she doesn’t like the idea of letting me off on my own, but what else can we do? I’m not too excited about being on my own again, but my only other choice is to give up on finding Deck and the others.

I’m not going to do that. They could be in danger from Trisha and her cohorts even now.

The thought drops into my gut. I want to urge Jimmy to pick up his speed, but of course I don’t. I sit tensely and try to respond politely to Greta’s pleasant conversation for almost an hour, until Jimmy slows to a stop at the side of the road just before a smaller road turns off to the right.

“Here’s our turnoff,” Greta says. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

“I really appreciate the thought, but my people are that way. I need to get to them.”

“And you’re sure they’re worth it?”

I gulp. Nod for a moment until I can get the words out. “Yeah. They’re worth it.”

I’ve opened the passenger door and have started to slide out onto the road when Jimmy says sharply, “Wait! Wait. Someone’s comin’.”

“Hold on, Lilah,” Greta adds, pulling a rifle up from the floor of the cab and handing it to Jimmy, who has rolled down his window and aims the rifle toward the road in front of us.

It takes a minute for the approaching vehicle to come into full view. And then a few more seconds before the sight processes in my head. Then I gasp. Stiffen. Swing the door open as I say sharply, “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot him. That’s… that’s my man.”

Because it is my man.

It’s Deck. Big and rumpled and intimidating and beloved. Riding on one of the ATVs. He slows when he sees the truck, swerves off the road and onto the grass to give us a wide berth. He’s aiming his pistol at us when I scramble out of the pickup and wave both arms at him, calling, “Deck! Deck! ”

He either sees or hears me. He jerks to a stop and jumps off the vehicle, heading toward me.

I’m running full speed now, and I don’t slow down as I get closer. I hurl myself at him, completely unaware of the soreness of my body and the still-intense pain in my shoulder.

He catches me. Swings me around and up into a tight hug. He’s shaking as much as I am as we gasp and whimper and cling to each other.

When he finally slides me back down to my feet, he frowns as he inspects my condition. He checks some of the scratches on my skin that have mostly stopped bleeding and then shifts to my injured shoulder.

“I’m okay,” I tell him, wiping away a few stray tears. “How are you even here?”

His features twist. His eyes are deep and urgent. He signs, Trisha said you left. Left! You didn’t want me anymore. But it was wrong. She lied. You wouldn’t leave me. You never trusted her, and you were right. So I look for you.

I wipe my damp face with both hands. They’re probably dirty and smearing yuck on my skin, but I don’t care at the moment. “Logan really allowed you to leave and take one of the ATVs?”

He shakes his head. Didn’t ask .

I don’t know why it happens—probably some kind of collapse after so much fear and stress—but I start to giggle. Then I can’t stop. Then I almost bend over with helpless laughter until Deck pulls me into a soft hug.

When I’ve finally recovered, I remember Greta and Jimmy, so I take Deck by the hand and bring him over to introduce him. After I thank them again and assure them that we’ll be fine now, they drive off, looking relieved.

I can’t blame them.

I’m much safer with Deck than I would be by myself.

I’m much better with Deck than I’d be with anyone else.

When we return to the ATV, he turns me to face him, tilting my head up so I’m focused on him.

Talk to me now?

“Yes,” I rasp. “I’ll talk to you. I’m sorry I didn’t before. I was… I was scared.”

His gestures are rushed and almost clumsy, but he shapes all the words with his hands.

I know you were. But you shouldn’t be. Tell me anything, and I’ll listen.

You have a problem, I’ll fix it. You run, I’ll follow.

You want to leave Logan, I’ll leave him.

You want to go somewhere else, I’ll go with you.

You want a house, I’ll build it. You want a baby, I’ll make you pregnant.

You want a new life, I’ll find one for you.

His face is open. Emotional. Nakedly sincere. I’m with you. Always. Forever.

I burst into tears.

Then I fling myself back into his arms. He lifts me up as he hugs me. I’m shaking and crying and holding on to him with all I’m worth as I choke out, “I’m with you too. Always. Forever.”

He makes a helpless sound as his arms tighten around me, and I realize he wasn’t as confident as he seemed.

He didn’t know how I felt about him—not for sure—any more than I was sure of his feelings before right now.

So we’re both overwhelmed by joy and relief and affection for a few minutes until I suddenly remember all our problems don’t go away just because we’re back together. I pull away with a worried gasp.

Deck frowns. What?

“Trisha! Trisha. She’s working with some sort of gang. Maybe some of her old one or someone else. I don’t know. But they’re going to attack Logan and the others. Soon. They won’t be expecting it. We need to warn them.”

Deck starts moving even before I stop talking. He straddles the seat of the ATV and helps me on behind him. Then he starts the engine, makes a U-turn, and accelerates. Fast.

We might already be too late, but we’ve got to try anyway.

Because Deck might be my person, but he’s not the only person I have. And the others are all in danger right now.