Duality (The Hitchhiker Strain) (9 page)

“
Can you grab her and meet us at Paulson’s?” My mind starts to race as a decidedly bad idea begins to form. Tilly isn’t nearly the lost cause they think she is. If it’s only been a couple of days, the Veritas serum could still save her.

E
xcept, I’m entirely sure that I’m not supposed to be advertising our location. I wish I could say that I have no idea what the right answer is, but there’s really not even a question. I trust these people—they were my family when I had none. I won’t sacrifice a girl to keep Veritas’s secrets. I’ll have to force their hand.

Doctor Silvers
will never forgive me for this. “As quickly as possible.”

Marybeth glances briefly at Alex for approval. He offers a quick nod before she takes off out the front door, yell
ing, “Paulson’s house. Five minutes,” behind her right before the door swings shut.

At last, I
’m alone with my guys. No one speaks. Alex and Pierce are right in front of me and I’m completely at a loss for words. It’s Alex who moves first, his face finally registering something other than shock or worry, and for the first time, I can’t read what it is he’s feeling. He steps toward me as his shoulders fall. In one smooth motion, he folds me up in his arms, welcoming me back. With one arm, I reach around his lean body and return the hug. With the other, I reach out and find Pierce’s hand, giving it a squeeze. We only stay like that for a moment, but as soon as we each retreat back into our own personal space, all of the tension between us retreats as well. These are my people, and it’s good to be home. Even if I know it can’t last.

Chapter 13 – Chelsea

The beast is mostly quiet when I awake from my boredom-induced nap. It
’s stalking through the back of my mind, worried and tired. There’s a stillness in her now that neither one of us expected—a calm that penetrates everything.

Without a window to judge the hour of the day, I can
’t know for sure how much time has passed. It feels like early evening. My mind is sharp and well rested though, which is promising. But I’m going to have to eat their paltry offering of food soon or this newfound strength won’t last. It’s strange though—even my hunger feels different. Before it was the element that tainted everything else in my existence. Every mood and desire was colored by hunger. Now, the hunger sits on the surface. It’s manageable. Simple.

The more I think about it, the more I flip-flop from grateful to nervous. Am I
dying
? What is happening to the beast within me? For the first time, I wish someone would talk to me and explain. I can’t fill in all these gaps on my own.

Except, who would bother taking the time to explain anything to someone like me? As far as anyone here knows, I
’m a mindless, flesh-hungry monster, and I haven’t been doing anything to dissuade them from their ideas. In fact, I’ve been going out of my way to convince them that I’m nothing more than something to be feared. They’ve yet to seem impressed by my efforts, but they haven’t been forthcoming with information either. I need to show them that maybe there’s still something inside of me that’s worth saving.

But could I? If I wanted to? Could I push my instincts down long enough to show them I want to hear what they have to say? Maybe. My last attempt at being more than just the beast still weighs heav
ily on me. Even in my most human moment, I couldn’t do something as simple as speaking.

I lie there a minute longer, contemplating my potential, until hunger becomes the most pressing issue. I have to eat.

Everything they’ve left for me is painfully human and doesn’t look remotely appetizing, but it’s my only option if I want to stay strong enough to get answers. I’ll have to suffer through it.

Grimacing, I sit down on the floor and pull my latest tray of food toward me. I force myself to eat slowly to keep
myself from getting sick, picking at the food bit by bit. It doesn’t taste as awful as I imagined. It doesn’t taste like anything at all.

Once the growling from my gut has quieted, my mind goes back to focusing on what needs to be done while my hands cont
inue to robotically pick at the food in front of me. I need to find a way to balance the beast and the weight of everything I’ve experienced long enough to bring myself—the human me—to the surface.

I need to remember how to be Chelsea Zimmerman.

It’s hours before anyone comes to see me again. I can tell without even looking up that it’s Zack again. I must not be a priority for anyone else. The sounds and smells of him have become the most familiar thing about this place. As soon as he walks into view, I take a step backward and pin myself against the very back wall of my cage.

Inside, I
’m cursing at my own bullheadedness, egging myself on to try and take a step forward. Externally, an unwelcome snarl forces its way across my mouth. My shoulders hunch down, and my legs shift apart slightly until they find a comfortable fighting stance.

Zack stops in the same place as before and presses his lips into a tight line
. “You ate.”

I refuse to acknowledge him. I can
’t even so much as glance at the food. Part of me is sure this boy doesn’t want to hurt me, but the other part isn’t willing to take that risk.

Show vulnerability, open yourself up to attack. That
’s all there is to it.

I want to relax my posture. I want to show this boy and his people that I don
’t want to hurt them. I’m not a threat. It seemed so important before to defy this place. Now all I want to do is wipe the scowl off my face and I can’t do it. I’ve spent so long fighting to stay alive at any cost. Old habits die hard.

I refuse to take my eyes off of the enemy.

Minutes pass and he eventually relaxes, but I don’t. He clearly expects something from me, but whatever it is, I can’t give it to him.

I wish I k
new how.

“
There’s something about you,” he says finally. “The others don’t see it, but I know I’m right. They don’t recognize that look in your eyes because they’ve never been there, hovering on the edge between human and monster. I’ve been there though. I recognize that look.”

I have to stop myself from cocking my head slightly to the side in surprise. What does he mean he
’s been there? He’s clearly not infected. He’s entirely, painfully, deliciously human.
I don’t understand!
I scream within my own mind, but the beast is the only one who hears me, and even she barely notices.

He must catch the slight tick of my halted movement, because a small smile creeps onto his face. “
You’re listening to me, really listening. Even when I’m not speaking. I can see it in the way you watch me.”

He
’s giving me an opening. All I have to do is step through and take it, just show him that he’s right.

“
It’s been a long time since I’ve had any up-close-and-personal time with Zs of any kind, but you’re different. There’s a person in there.”

I stay perfectly still, frozen in place against the back wall of my cage, as far away from him as I can possibly be. In a way, he
’s wrong. Listening to humans is no special trick. Before coming to this place, I made a point of listening to my prey—observing them for weakness. But even I know that that’s not what I’m doing now. Can he sense the war inside of me? I
should
be lunging, attacking, ripping him into tiny pieces with my teeth. I just don’t want to.

I try to show him what
’s going on under the surface, but my body won’t surrender. Zack gives up before I do, stepping back from the bars with a resigned sigh.

“
All right. I’ll leave you alone.” He runs his hand over his short blond hair. “Someone should be bringing you food again soon.” He turns away and instantly I feel the relief of the removed threat. But the gratification is nothing compared to the weighty disappointment of having let myself down.

I was
so close,
and now he’s walking away.

At first I don
’t notice, but I match each step away he takes, getting closer to the bars of my prison as he gets farther away from them. I stop once my skin is pressed up against the very edge of the cage, both hands gripping a horizontal support bar.

I want to follow him right out of this cage and back t
o the person I used to be. But he keeps moving farther and farther away.

Please! Stop. You
’re right… Stay…

“
Wait.” My voice cracks with the effort, but like a wisp of smoke, the word escapes my lips. It travels into the void separating Zack and me, hovering there until it reaches him.

Zack turns around.

Chapter 14 – Savannah

The house the Paulsons now live in is a little smaller and a lot grimier than the one I grew up in. The walls don't do much to muffle the conversations of their neighbors, and the furniture looks like it belongs in another decade. It's
still
better than the physics classroom the two of them were sharing back when we all lived in the high school.

Belle and her father sit side by side on their couc
h, knees touching and wearing identical looks of cautious concern, looking more alike than when I last saw them. Alex, Marybeth, and Pierce have all taken up spots on the floor, sitting cross-legged by a small gas fireplace to leave open chairs for the other adults, most of whom I don't recognize. Everyone stares at me expectantly, their attention shifting momentarily to look at Liam, whose tattoos and rigid stance make him seem like a more present threat than the undead who roam the streets.

Mrs. Park lets
herself in and brushes past me with a warm smile before taking the remaining chair. She's the very last person we've been waiting on, and I'm officially out of time to come up with a way to break the news of the imminent threat we’re all facing. All I can think about is how hard it has always been to get these people to see me as anything more than young and head strong.

"Liam and I were traveling with two others on a supply run. Everything was going smoothly. We had no issues at all." I purposefully leave
out where we were coming from as I try to stay two steps ahead of what I’m saying. Hopefully by the time I get to the crux of my story I’ll have something more to offer them than bad news. I need a plan. "We took a different route back, which is when things started getting weird. All along the edge of Militia territory, we were finding these huge blockades."

"Okay..." Paulson says, letting the word hang in the air, probably wondering why this should matter to them.

"We were also hearing explosions off in the distance,” Liam adds, his tone leading. This is the point where I’m supposed to jump in with the big reveal.

Come on, Savannah. Spit it out already.
My thoughts taunt me as all the faces in the room remain calm and patient. Or blissfully ignorant, depending how you look at it.

"There is a massive
—and I mean massive—herd of Zs in the area. Hundreds, probably thousands.” Slowly people start to react. “The United Militia must have known they were coming. The roadblocks we saw were perfectly placed to keep the infected away from their territory. To steer them in whatever direction is most convenient for
them
."

Paulson
’s eyebrows rise slowly as the muscles in his jaw clench.

"We think the noises were part of it, too. Maybe they were using the bombings as a las
t resort to pull their attention if they were going in the wrong direction. The dead are essentially being herded."

"And now they're coming here," Mrs. Park says, speaking the words so I don't have to.

“From the highway. Yes. They were headed in this direction, to this town, for sure. We can't guess how close they'll get," I answer, wishing I could give them something more definitive.

"How far out are they?" Paulson asks. Someone else jumps in before I can answer.

"They've got to be a ways out," says the man who was so keen to blow my head off earlier—Patrick, I think. "Jim and Marie are out that way and they'll warn us before they get too close. It’s good to know, but nothing to worry about."

If their patrol is within an hour
’s drive, they would have noticed something wasn't right by now. They're probably already dead. Or they could be stuck somewhere with a thousand hungry zombies between them and home. Either way, they’re too far out to help us now.

"They're close. Too close," Liam says. Clearly I wasn't
getting to the point quickly enough for him. "We spotted them from an overpass and were only able to beat them here because we weren't on foot. We're not talking about days here. We're talking hours. Tops.”

"That's not possible."

I don't see who speaks, which is likely because I can't bring myself to look up from my feet.

"Yeah…
it is. How much do you know about the United Militia?" Liam asks, looking at all of the adults in turn. "Because I wouldn't be surprised to learn it wasn’t a coincidence that their little obstacle course leads the Zs around the edge of their territory instead of getting them completely away from any survivors. It's a pretty smart way to make sure no one settles in too close."

It's my turn to look shocked. I'm not exactly the Militia'
s number one fan, but even I can't wrap my head around the gruesome reality he's suggesting: they’re using the zombies as a security system. I assumed they'd eventually be directed away from populated and the Militia would leave them to be someone else's problem, but there's nothing stopping them from continuing the same loop forever, drawing in more Zs as they go. A massive wall of hungry, agitated undead.

It's Belle who finally answers Liam's question instead of her dad. “
We don’t know much about the Militia. Only what Cole told us.” I finally look up to see her looking right at me. “Once we'd been here for a while and started to explore, it was obvious they were close by. We’ve seen some of the barricades. We all assumed it was them putting up a border to their territory—keeping others out. We've stayed out of their way, and they've stayed out of ours."

That leaves three options: either they don
’t realize people have settled here, they know and don't care, or they know and are deliberately trying to destroy them. It doesn't really matter why the horde is coming though. All that matters is what these people are going to do about it.

"How long do we have exactly?" Paulson asks.

"We don't know. It depends on if anything catches their attention or riles them up," Liam answers.

"We could wait it out," Patrick suggests. "Keep quiet and they'll pass right through. Then we can go about our business. No harm done. We can take out any stragglers that could wander in here."

"All it would take is one gun going off or a car backfiring to draw the rest of them right to you. You
could
be fine. Are you willing to risk it?" Liam counters. I know he's right, and I can see in Mrs. Park's eyes that she does too. She'd never be willing to risk even one life for the sake of convenience.

"If we get everyone out fast enough, you can all hang out somewhere nearby and wait for the
m to pass through and then come back." I want my idea to be more valuable than it is. I see the fatal flaw as soon as I say it out loud. So does Alex.

"Unless Liam is right.”
Alex looks up at the ceiling like he always does when he’s trying to solve a problem. “If this is some kind of twisted security system, we could be dealing with all of this again in a matter of days or weeks, depending on how big the perimeter is."

"That's
a theory," Paulson argues, his voice still calm. His gaze glides around the room and I can practically see him trying to put everything together and come up with the best possible plan. "We could try it once, and then wait and see. If we have to relocate, at least we'll have more time to figure out somewhere to go."

"You want us to leave?" Belle asks, looking up with wide eyes at her dad.

"If we have to. It’s a last resort."

"Where would we go?" Pierce asks, lookin
g at his girlfriend's father, respect plain on his face. Other voices join the discussion until the air is full of chatter and raised voices.

Liam raises up his hands plaintively to try and regain control of the room. "Figuring out your next steps will hav
e to wait until later.”

Usually, I'd agree with h
im, but a very bad idea has formed in the back of my mind and I’m not able to stop myself from saying it. "I know where you could go." Slowly, the voices around me start to quiet again.

I know what the next
words out of my mouth are going to be, and I’m not completely convinced it’s a good idea. It’s just the best plan I have. They have a little girl who is dying and we can help her—I have to.

Cole is going to kill me
—if his father doesn’t do it first.

“
Come with us.” I inhale silently, steeling my nerves. I’m almost ashamed that I didn’t think to offer this sooner. To hell with what the Initiative has to say about the idea. “Not long after I left you all, I joined up with Cole’s group. They’re all scientists, and they have an incredibly well-hidden facility. I think there’s enough room for all of you.” The Initative has more than they need, and we’re adding to our supplies all the time. Helping these people is the least they can do. “This could work.”

Patrick
stands up, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and facing me with a determined grimace. “We’re going to have to say thanks, but no thanks.”

I look over at Paulson to see him raising his eyebrows. “
Pat. Relax.” He turns to look at me, calm and steady. “Savannah, we do appreciate it, but we’ve created something good here. We’re not ready to give that up on something that may turn out to be a passing threat.”

Of course that
’s easy for him to say when he doesn’t know what the Initiative has been working toward and what they’ve already accomplished. Even without a way to restore the infected, they can save people like Tilly Mason. That is a level of safety this exposed cluster of townhouses will never be able to offer.

A gunshot sounds in the distance, shatte
ring the veil of murmured conversation. Everyone in the room jumps a little in their seats before leaping to their feet. A second later, from the opposite direction, someone screams.

We're too late. Images of hundreds of starving, rotting corpses descendin
g on Tilton overwhelm my mind. They're here, and there are still more than a hundred people sitting in their houses with no idea what’s coming for them.

"I don't see anything," Patrick says, retreating back into the living room from the front door. There
’s no way that the entire herd has made it here already. But whatever has come for us, it has to be dealt with. Now.

"That's good. That means we should still have time before there's more than we can handle. Does everyone here know where the Park-N-Eat in Ri
dgeview here is?" I ask, determined to come up with a solid plan of action before everyone takes off to go help their friends. Even if they don’t believe me yet, I know they can’t stay here and hope to wait out the oncoming slaughter. A few people nod. Most are already peering out of the bay window or checking their weapons. “That will be the meet-up location. There's no time to give everyone directions to where we're going, so we'll rendezvous there. You can decide what your next step will be after that." I look over at Paulson for confirmation. He doesn’t look at me. Patrick has already disappeared out the door. "Get as many people as you can. Spread the word about where we're meeting, and we'll figure out the rest once we get everyone out of here in one piece."

All at once, most of the people in the room move for the door, each intent on finding where they can be the most helpful. No one is even acknowledging me. I move to follow them before realizing I know nothing about this place or how things work here
. I could easily end up getting in the way.

Before he can dart toward the door, I grab Pierce
’s arm. “How can I help?” I glance over at Liam, who is still standing in the corner of the room. He’s pulled a long knife from somewhere on his waistband and looks ready for a fight. “How can
we
help?”

Pierce stops moving. I expect him to search out Alex and deflect the question to him, but he immediately attempts to take charge. “
Umm. I guess first we should try to clear out whatever is already inside. So we need weapons.”

“
Where do you keep them?”

“
Number seventy. We’ve got a little bit of everything. You guys can go grab those and help to distribute them.”

As far as instructions go, his are pretty vague. I guess there isn
’t much more to tell us until we actually know what it is we’re facing. I can already hear the sounds of fighting coming from outside.

“
All right, kid. Sounds good.” First, I’m going to need a weapon because I never got my gun back after being forced to leave it where we parked.

Pierce smiles, and
despite the fact that we’re all in serious danger, it still reaches all the way to his big, brown eyes. With a mock salute, he turns around and heads for the door, the rest of the group already long gone.

“
Be safe!” I yell after him as an afterthought. Turning to Liam, I ask, “Any chance you’ve got an extra knife or something?” Whether it’s one Z or a hundred, going out there without a way to defend myself is suicide. I’ll get an upgrade at number seventy.

With one s
mooth step, Liam slides into the kitchen. He pulls open a few doors and then slams them shut quickly in succession before brandishing a short, blunt-looking butcher’s knife. “Hmm, probably not.” He puts the knife back and pulls out a carving knife.