| |
KATE
Reed sags to his knees next to me, head bowed and shoulders convulsing with loss. My hand still grips the knife in Jesus’s head when the scream crashes over me.
I spin around to see a zombie latched onto the back of Lila’s leg. The slimy fucker must have crawled free when we moved the concrete slab pinning Jesus.
Eric bellows, slashing with his knife. Caleb and Jenna crowd in, all three hacking with weapons.
Lila staggers free. There’s blood everywhere. I don’t how much is Lila’s and how much belongs to the zom head that now rolls across debris.
“No fucking way,” Eric cries, dragging Lila toward him. “No fucking way, Lila. Not you. Not you.” He chokes on tears.
Lila sags into him, face pale. The back of her left calf is shredded, her blue jeans reduced to tatters.
“It’s okay.” Her hand comes up to stroke Eric’s cheek. “It’s okay, you asshole. Stop being a pussy.”
“It’s not fucking okay!” There’s blood smudged on Eric’s glasses. He picks Lila up, cradling her against his chest as he plops onto an exposed wedge of concrete.
Lila. I didn’t think there was anything left in me to break after euthanizing Jesus.
I was wrong.
I have no words. Or rather, I have too many of them. Sorrow closes off my throat, choking off all sound.
Jesus is gone. I lost him. I failed him. He came to me for protection and I failed him. Even worse, I failed Reed. Jesus was the closest thing he had to a brother.
And now I’ve failed Lila. And Eric, too.
I feel like I’ve been bombed from the inside out.
Zombies moan in the background. Distantly, I see a handful of them tottering around in the rubble. I see hands and legs protruding from underneath crushed concrete.
“It’s okay.” Lila continues to sooth Eric, stroking his cheek while he cradles her and sobs into her shoulder. “Seriously, Eric, pull your shit together.”
From Lila’s tone, you’d think they were bickering in Creekside, not facing death together in a zombie war zone.
“I can’t,” Eric sobs. “Lila, I can’t ...”
“You can,” she replies. “You have to.” The compassion on her face as she gazes at Eric threatens to break me.
How is it that Lila—our frightened, agoraphobic Lila—has found her strength in the face of her own death? Here she is, a pillar of strength while the rest of us are falling apart.
Reed and Ash cry quietly over Jesus. There isn’t a dry eye to be found among any of us.
A foot to my left, Ben stands like a statue. He’s always harbored a fatherly affection for Lila. Now, his eyes are locked on her. I can tell from the cloudy look in his eyes that this new horror has triggered his PTSD. I grasp his hand and squeeze.
It’s a selfish gesture. I want to bring him back to the present. But more than that, I want his comfort. I think my legs would give out if I didn’t have him to hold onto.
Lila kisses Eric’s forehead and pushes free of his arms. She has to grab onto the slab of concrete to keep herself upright. Her good leg stands in a wide pool of her own blood.
“You’re going to be okay, Eric.” Lila’s gaze sweeps over the rest of us. “You’re all going to be okay. Honestly, I’ve been sick of all this shit for months. I’m ready to go.”
She draws the Sig from her belt.
The act is like a lightning bolt slamming through Ben. He jerks free of me, lunging across our lopsided circle.
“Lila!” he bellows. He isn’t fast enough.
The Sig fires.
Lila falls.