Love in the Time of the Dead (29 page)

BOOK: Love in the Time of the Dead
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“Can we go fishing?”

“I wish. The river is covered in ice though. It would be pretty hard to get the fly to the fish. I think they are probably sleeping and not very hungry anyway. What about ice skating?”

“What’s ice skating?”

“I’ll show you. It’ll be a new adventure, but your daddy said before we do anything today he wants you to take a nap. He said you’re a monster in the evening if you don’t get a nap,” she said through a grin.

The little girl jumped up and started to pretend to take bites on her arm. Laney grabbed her up and made chomping sounds while she tickled her. It might have been inappropriate, but there wasn’t a game in existence more fun than zombie attack. Besides, after what the child had seen and been through, the lighter they could make the subject, the better.

She snuggled Adrianna on the couch in the living room closest to the fire. Pulling a thick blanket over them, she sang to the girl until her eyes became heavy.

“Hush-a-by, don’t you cry,
Go to sleep little baby,
When you wake, you shall have,
All the pretty little horses.
Paint and Bay, Sorrel and Gray,
All the pretty little horses.
Hush-a-by, don’t you cry,
Go to sleep, little baby.”

It was Adrianna’s favorite lullaby. That suited Laney just fine because it was the only one she remembered her own mother singing to her when she was little. When Adrianna had fallen asleep and was breathing deeply, Laney relaxed beside her and watched the slow falling snow out of the window.

She thought of her lost family: Mom, Dad, and Jarren. She wished they could have made it long enough to find such a peaceful place amidst the tragedy of the outbreak. Maybe it would have made their violent passing easier.

After Adrianna woke, she took her to the frozen pond in the back of the colony. She strapped two ill-fitting pairs of ice skates she’d borrowed from Mel to their feet and pulled Adrianna around in slow, careful circles. They weren’t the only ones with the idea. Other colony members came to skate or to socialize in small groups. She recognized a few of them and joined in their conversation while Adrianna skated with two little boys around her age.

She pulled her jacket more tightly around herself. “Come on, Adrianna. It’s getting close to dinner and we need to get you in some dry clothes.”

Adrianna came surprisingly easily. She must have been exhausted from all the physical exertion to come so obediently. Laney took her hand and led her through the gray haze of early evening, only to be pulled up short by Mitchell’s approach. An unavoidable smile lit her face, but when he looked up, he halted and searched the woods with frantic eyes like he sought an escape. The gesture hurt more than she thought it could have.

“Hey, Mitchell,” she greeted him.

“Hey,” he sighed.

“Adrianna, do you remember Mitchell?”

The girl waved shyly from behind her leg, and Mitchell smiled at her.

“Did you go ice skating?” he asked.

“Yes, I went around and around.”

“Good, that means you warmed up the pond for me,” he said, showing her the skates dangling from his hands. “You girls have a good day.” He eased around Laney.

She waved to his receding back as regret pulled at her like a strong current.

Sean met her and Adrianna at dinner in the mess hall.

“You’re actually eating with the rest of us peasants tonight?” Laney teased.

“Shut up,” he said around a bite of scalloped potatoes just as Eloise and Guist joined them. She knew the exact moment when Mitchell walked through the door to mess hall. She knew because she’d been looking for him. Guist waved him over to their table, but Mitchell stayed only long enough to gulp down his food before he left with a mumbled goodbye. His aloofness toward her was like a dagger. On top of that pain, she was the cause of all of this tension and unhappiness for Guist, who tried to remain neutral. “I’m Switzerland!” he’d say.

Eloise consoled her, but it wasn’t enough and she left soon after.

The crisp and snowy morning came early to Dead Run River. Laney shivered as she tumbled into the clothes she had left warming by the wood burning stove. A hot shower felt good, but it was only a momentary relief from the bitter cold. Eloise met her at breakfast and they headed to the front gates together.

As they approached, Guist’s booming laugh could be heard at a distance. Eloise squeaked and ran for him. He was barely able to catch her as she rushed into his arms. Realization dawned on a surprised Mitchell’s face that she was there for livestock duty.

He rounded on Guist. “Did you know?” he demanded. “Is that why you were so gung ho to volunteer for livestock today?”

Guist shrugged. “Laney and Eloise were assigned to livestock yesterday. I had nothing to do with that.”

“You could have told me,” he snapped angrily. “I’m driving. Everyone’s here now so let’s go.”

She looked longingly in the direction she had come from. Was it too late to change her mind? She frowned. Probably. She hopped into a four-wheel-drive SUV with Eloise and three other cattle workers. Fifteen terrifying minutes later, Mitchell pulled the vehicle up to the gates of their destination. Guist jumped out and opened the gate, chatting with two guards stationed there while the rest climbed out of the SUV and into the frosty morning air. Mitchell tossed one of the guards the keys and took his post near the entrance to the gate. The guards pulled away, taking the getaway vehicle with them until the next shift would bring it back.

Laney hung back as the others headed for a barn off to the left.

“Mitchell?” she asked quietly.

“Laney, I have to work. This isn’t the place.”

“Well, you won’t talk to me anywhere else and you have to be here so I’m going to say my piece. I’m sorry. Damn it, I’m so sorry I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ll do anything. Just talk to me again. Please, just don’t hate me anymore.”

He had been doing a stellar job of avoiding her eyes, but on her last pleading sentence he looked at her as if he couldn’t help himself. “I don’t hate you. I wish I could, but I can’t. I just need time,” he finished, using her own words to burn her.

“Fine. I can wait.” She left for the barn without a backward glance.

He wouldn’t be watching her go as he used to. He was changing. Not the natural sort of change that came with growth or maturity. Mitchell was forcing the change to protect himself from something she couldn’t understand or control.

Livestock proved to be much more physically demanding than she had expected. They each had ATVs to drive the cattle with, but the day proved long. After feeding them and leading them to part of the river that snaked inside of the gates, they had to break through the ice for the cattle to drink. Two calves had been born late in the summer and one had died in the night. The cold had overcome his ability to survive. The other calf’s mother was nowhere to be found, so they had to use a technique called grafting to ensure the mother of the deceased calf would accept the orphaned one. It was a brutal process of skinning the dead calf and placing its hide onto the living one so the mother would adopt its new smell. Eloise had to leave the barn while a man named Unger coached Laney through the process. Eloise’s stomach couldn’t take it, or so the retching sound that came from the front of the barn suggested. When the cow and her new calf were settled into a bed of thick straw in a stall, they brought the rest of the herd in from the river to the shelter of a huge covered area. The thickly furred cattle huddled together for warmth, mouths moving rhythmically as they bellowed and chewed. The day had come to an end, but they still had to wait for the next shift of guards to bring the SUV back for them. Unger kept them busy in preparation for the next day, but at the sound of a smattering of gunfire and then a second, Laney rushed from the barn toward the livestock gates. She already had her Mini readied when she reached Mitchell and Guist. They had climbed sturdy wooden stepladders secured on either side of the gates. She could smell the Deads as soon as she was clear of the barn. There was nothing for her to do by the time she reached the team. They searched the woods with scopes, but finding no remaining walking corpses, Guist lowered his weapon.

“Clear,” Mitchell said as they relaxed their stance but remained alert on the ladders.

“So this is why you have been hiding out here, huh? More action?” she asked Mitchell.

He spared her a glance. Progress. “It’s one of the reasons,” he admitted. “The cattle make a lot of noise and attract a lot of the Deads’ attention. It’s slowed down, though, with the snow. They can’t move around in it very well.”

“Where is Eloise?” Guist asked her, sounding concerned.

“Not feeling well. They made us skin a dead calf.”

“Can you do me a favor?” Mitchell asked her.

“Will it get me out of the doghouse?”

He rolled his eyes. “Go grab an ATV. Tell Unger you need a trailer hooked up to it. We need to dispose of these Deads before the snow covers them.”

“Sure.” She jogged off, reveling in being needed.

She rode with Mitchell and loaded the Deads onto the trailer while Guist kept his post. When they were finished they drove a good distance to a deep ravine and dropped the bodies in one by one. Mitchell explained that it was their go-to Dead drop zone. When they returned, the new shift of guards still hadn’t arrived. Eloise was leaning up against the fence, huddled into herself to keep warm, while the other workers had opted to stay in the warmth of the barn until the shift change came. Laney plopped down beside Eloise and washed her hands as well as she could with snow. The cold prickled her raw skin, but she was desperate to rid herself of the rotten smell.

“When are you leaving?” Guist asked.

Laney looked up to see who he was talking to. He was waiting on an answer from Mitchell. What a frightening question. Her mind raced with the implications.

“Tomorrow,” Mitchell said in a deep, tired voice. “Dr. Mackey said the baby will be okay to travel tomorrow. I think Adam is ready to get away from Laney so he’s rushing their departure.”

“You’re leaving with Adam?” she asked, unable to control the fear-filled curiosity in her voice.

“Yes,” he answered shortly.

She pushed. “But why?”

Mitchell sighed. “Because they need armed escorts to get them to Fairplay safely. So I volunteered.”

He was leaving. He was leaving. Mitchell was leaving her. She jolted upright and then groaned as her skin protested. Her hands found her waist and she placed a gentle pressure on the wounds Dr. Mackey had been whittling into her flesh. She forgot about them sometimes, but her quick movement made the injuries scream for attention.

She rocked forward in an attempt to ease the stretching of her skin, as if it would push her open cuts back together again and provide relief. Mitchell hopped off the ladder and kneeled beside her.

“Don’t,” he said softly. “Let me see.”

He pulled her hands away from the tender area and unzipped her jacket. Lifting her shirt and hoodie, he grimaced when he saw the rows of injured flesh.

“Some of these look infected, Laney. I’m taking you to see Dr. Mackey when we get back to the colony. This has to stop.” He gestured to the cuts angrily. “You aren’t dying for their tests. They’ve taken enough from you.”

She tried to smile. “If they are infected it’s no wonder. Mel keeps assigning me to jobs that involve cow crap.”

Mitchell snorted and looked up at the sound of the returning SUV. He turned toward the barn and let out a shrill whistle to the other workers. Then he drove them back to the colony and took her to the doctor’s office as soon as bite checks were finished. As she climbed the porch steps, the first symptoms of an infection manifested. She wiped her moist forehead with the back of her shaking hand and sat up on the table. Mitchell talked to Dr. Mackey and the older man lifted her shirt to see for himself. He pressed his hand firmly on the side of her stomach and amber fluid dribbled out from under one of the butterfly bandages. Mitchell cursed softly under his breath.

Adam charged into the waiting room. “Laney, if you think—”

Before he could utter another word, Mitchell jabbed a finger at him. “No,” he said furiously. “Leave.”

Laney lay down as Dr. Mackey started the painstaking process of removing all the bandages. To take her mind off the pain, she focused on Mitchell: on the set of his serious jaw and the attractive stubble on his face. Her fingers itched to feel it. “If you hate him so much, why did you volunteer to escort him?”

He pursed his lips into a grim line. His caramel eyes were reserved. “I need a change.”

“Are you leaving forever?” she asked bravely.

He looked out the window and shook his head slightly. “Not yet.”

She winced as another bandage pulled one of the fresher wounds. “Will you hold my hand?” she whispered.

He hesitated. “Who has been coming with you to these appointments?”

“Eloise.”

“I’m going to get her for you.” He stood and turned for the door.

“Mitchell, please don’t leave.”

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