“We’ll take Corrina’s medicine,” I said. “We’ll take it and it’ll work.”
He didn’t respond.
“I know I said that.” I pulled out the pouch of herbs Corrina had given me and searched the van for any sort of container we could use as a cup. “I’m not taking it back. We’re dead or might as well be but we still have to do what’s right. We still have to help people.”
“Why?” Ricker said. “No one’s helping us.”
“Tabitha—”
“She’s doing this for her own reasons,” Ricker interrupted.
He was right. She might have decided to help us at the moment, but it wouldn’t last. “Because,” I finally said.
“Because why?”
“Just because, Ricker.” I held out my hand for his own pouch of herbs. “Because we have to.”
He hesitated, as if ready to argue with me some more, but then pulled out the pouch and handed it over.
The driver passed back a water bottle. We created a makeshift stove out of a hand lighter and a small metal container from the trunk and did our best to make the tea. It was bitter at first and then turned sweet by the end. We passed around the water bottle now filled with tea to everyone in the car, using up all of Corrina’s gift. We didn’t feel any different, but then again, we had no idea how long it took to start working. If it worked at all.
Another hour passed and we covered all the ground that it had taken two days for us to hike. The Vs stayed with us. Three of them had busted our windshield at this point. The V mob formed a growing entourage that fell behind as we gained distance on clear stretches of highway and caught back up as we slowed to maneuver around obstacles.
The cars discussed plans across walkie-talkies. Tabitha wanted to use the Vs like something similar to what Spencer had done to get inside the Cal Expo fairgrounds years ago—draw in a big mob of them to do the fighting for us. I did not think it was a good idea. The only way to the reservoir was through the town itself, drawing Vs into where we didn’t want them to be. We’d have to wind into the hills and be a slow-moving target for anyone waiting for us down at the reservoir. The hills were steep and would leave us few places to hide. The direct exit to our town was blocked by the layers and layers of obstacles we’d placed there.
The vehicles made their way through our carefully constructed path. I wondered how Tabitha planned to get in contact with the town and warn them about the Vs. There was still a gate to get through.
But the gate that should have been closed—it was wide open. We lost the Vs around a corner, but it was only a matter of time before they would catch up. The lead vehicle stepped on the gas and we followed in a rather stately line, weaving in and out of the town’s cottage-style ranch houses. There wasn’t a single Feeb walking around.
I held my breath as I examined the windows for signs of life. Was there anyone left in town to care for the Faints and for Ano? My hands became clammy at the vision of him lying in that hospital bed, shouting out, no one there to help. Where were Corrina and Dylan?
Movement shifted the curtains of a second-story window. A hand pushed the curtains aside and for a brief second Corrina stood outlined by the white window frame, raising her hand as if in hello to us. Or was it as a warning to ward us off?
A boom sounded. Something kicked up asphalt in front of the lead car.
Uninfected streamed out of the houses and stood on the rooftops, the late afternoon sun glaring behind their backs. The first car swerved and slammed into a telephone pole that had long ago turned into a posting board for photos and messages to dead loved ones. The vehicle in front of us veered to the right and wrecked a fence before skidding to a stop in a front yard, the passengers dashing out, Gabbi included.
A bullet smashed through the driver’s side window of our van. Glass flew, our driver’s head lolled to the side. I ducked down, the noises more terrifying now that I couldn’t see what was going on. I scrambled over to the van door and inched it open. Ricker was on the floor, watching me. The van had stopped near the large oak tree on the corner of the block.
Bullets whizzed past the opening, throwing shrapnel from the tree, the dirt, a wooden fence, the street. I rolled out of the van and against the tree, the shade cooler than the van had been.
The gunfire petered out and stopped. People began shouting.
Someone pointed a rifle barrel at my face.
I moved slowly to see who held the rifle. He hadn’t shot me yet, so maybe if I didn’t him give him a reason, maybe he wouldn’t.
But then I realized he was a she. A woman held a rifle at my head. She was dressed in fatigues faded from dust, heat, the wear of years. Her combat boots had seen better days as well. The heat left large sweat marks on the army green T-shirt she wore under her bullet-proof vest. She even wore a military helmet. There were several dents in it along with a chip off the front. A wisp of blonde hair fell across her forehead and there was something very strange about her skin. Veins and mottled skin—like a Feeb’s—yet faded, as if getting washed away.
“Hello, Maibe.”
I started at my name. Now I looked her full in the face. I’d been looking at all the details, missing the big picture.
I knew this woman.
“It’s Jane. Don’t you remember?” She smiled, as if that would make everything better and I wouldn’t notice the rifle still pointed in my face. “Don’t move!” She shifted the rifle to point above my head, at whoever appeared behind me.
This had been Corrina’s best friend. When Corrina and Dylan had let me into the RV, she’d already been there. She’d slept with Dylan before the world fell apart and told Corrina at the worst possible time. She had left us while we were being turned into Feebs. She had sided with Sergeant Bennings and hadn’t been seen for years. Alden would have told me if she had come back. He would have.
“Do you know where Alden is?”
“The girl does have a voice. Still talk about zombie movies too?”
I cringed at the disdain in her voice. She was the worst kind of person. Someone who liked to laugh while she stabbed you in the back.
“What do you want?” Ricker said behind me.
“Get up,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you. Yet.” She smiled. “That’s gotta be a line from a movie, right?”
“What’s wrong with your skin?” I said.
She stepped back and motioned for the two of us to stand.
“Nothing another week or so won’t fix up.”