“Not everything.” He pulled out the pill bottle from his cargo pants pocket and tossed it to her.
She read the label before giving him a concerned look. “How many of these have you taken?”
“Four, I think.”
“Oxycodone. How are you even still awake after four of these?”
“Persistence.”
She smirked. “Well, no more of this.” She shoved it into the pack and opened the pill bottle she had brought out earlier. “Hydrocodone. It’ll stave off the pain for a while and won’t knock you out completely. I assume that’s something you want?”
“Good call.”
She handed him two pills, then opened her door and climbed out. “I’ll go refill the bottle.”
Will popped the pills into his mouth and swallowed, then spent the time watching her sticking the open water bottle out into the rain while doing her best to keep from getting wet. She came back later, shaking the rainwater out of her hair, and handed him the bottle. He drank half of it, even though he wasn’t really thirsty.
“You carried me back to the barn by yourself?” he asked.
“Well, shouldered you, anyway. I don’t think I could have actually carried you. Frankly, I was shocked you were still on your feet after you closed your eyes. I’d never seen anything like that before. It was like your body just knew it had to keep moving, even if the rest of you shut down.”
“I told you I was special.”
“That, or you’re really, really stubborn.”
“That too.”
They exchanged a brief smile.
“Why are you still here?” he asked. “I put a gun to your head and threatened to kill you yesterday.”
She sighed. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m an idiot.”
He chuckled. “No, that’s not it. What’s the real reason?”
She looked out the front windshield at the falling rain. “Maybe I can help you.”
“To do what?”
“Fight the creatures. Or ghouls, as you call them.”
“I thought you said their deal was acceptable, that it was even preferable to how you were living before.”
“You don’t understand,” she said, looking back at him. “I don’t want to change anybody’s mind. The people at the camps. In the towns. They’ve decided, and I’m fine with that. But that doesn’t mean we can’t try to improve their lot anyway.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to be against the people in the towns to keep fighting the ghouls, Will. From what I’ve seen, you have no interest in harming those people. Am I right?”
“Of course not. Why would I want to hurt them?”
“Exactly. It’s just you versus the ghouls and the people in hazmat suits. What you call collaborators. And you’re only violent with them because you have no choice. Is that also right?”
He nodded. “I don’t want to hurt anyone unless I have to. I’ve seen the blood farms, the before-picture of when people like you were in those induced comas. I know what you’ve been through, doc, and maybe I wouldn’t have agreed to the deal myself, but I can understand why you and the others did.”
“So there’s no conflict,” she said, nodding. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. “We fight the creatures, but not the people.”
“That sounds like a solid plan,” he said, and closed his eyes.
“Are you okay?” Zoe asked.
“I think I’m bleeding again. Can you do something about that?”
He heard her moving around. “Shit, Will, I was going to wait until you’re stronger to suture your wound, but I might have to do it sooner. Can you—”
“Do it,” he said.
“It’s going to hurt.”
“Just do it,” he grunted.
His last thoughts were of Gaby, and he wondered what she was doing back at the island right this moment. Probably walking on the beach with Nate. Or Benny. He wished her luck in choosing. God knew they all had to grab happiness wherever they could these days.
At least one of us made it back to the island…
CHAPTER 31
GABY
Gaby opened her eyes to silence and darkness. She climbed off the couch, her sudden movements waking Nate in the process. He had been asleep next to her, dozing from the medication, and she was surprised he was even alert enough to feel her moving.
“What’s going on?” he said, his voice groggy.
“I think I heard something,” she whispered back.
His voiced dropped to match hers. “What?”
“I don’t know. Stay here.”
She groped around in the darkness for her pack, unzipped it, and pulled out a glow stick. She pocketed it and grabbed the AR-15 leaning against the wall nearby and moved across the room toward the door. Her ears were up, listening to every sound, every heartbeat, every labored breath between her and Nate.
She crouched in front of the door, reached up, and twisted the deadbolt. With one hand, she slowly pulled open the door a fraction — just enough to see out — while making as little noise as possible. The night was so quiet that any little sound might as well be an announcement that they were inside the pawnshop.
“What do you see?” Nate whispered behind her.
She wasn’t sure what she saw, so she said nothing. The inside of the pawnshop was still wet, puddles of water pooling over the tiled floor, most of it concentrated near the front where Nate had broken the glass and bent the bars back to access the building.
It was pitch black outside, and the damn moon had chosen this night to go into hiding; she couldn’t make out anything, not even the parking lot beyond. She could just barely discern the counter in front and to her left, and the shelves to her right.
Other than that, it was like staring into the abyss.
Nate crouched next to her, his breath warm against the back of her neck. Thank God he was quiet. Benny would have been lumbering around like a giant in the dark.
“What do you see?” he whispered again.
“Nothing,” she whispered back.
He stared for a moment, then shook his head. “I can’t see anything. Less than anything.”
“Yeah…”
“I—” He stopped in mid-sentence.
“What is it?” she whispered.
He pointed toward the windows and slightly to the left.
Her heart skipped at the sight of a ghoul moving quietly from left to right, sliding across the front of the pawnshop with that unnatural, almost ballet-like grace they had about them. There was only one and it was small, its appearance more fragile than she was used to seeing. It peered inside the pawnshop, searching with beady eyes, upturned nostrils sniffing the air.
Can it smell us?
Gaby tightened her grip around the cold brass of the doorknob, preparing herself mentally to slam the door shut at a moment’s notice. Not yet, though, not yet. It hadn’t seen them, and moving too quickly now would be giving away their position.
We should have looked for a basement. Stupid. So stupid.
She watched the small, malformed ghoul moving across the front glass wall of the pawnshop. It was looking at something else now, something outside the store.
Keep going. Just keep going, you little shit.
Then it stopped at the broken section of the window.
No…
It lowered itself to the ground, toward the opening.
No!
“It’s going to come through,” Nate whispered.
She heard the sound of Nate sliding the Beretta out of his waistband.
“Nate,” she whispered.