“Hey,” I say feeling hungover, but not in the good, just-had-an-awesome-night-out-with-friends-kind of way. It’s a unique feeling that I assume comes from shooting your mother and watching her die.
Jesus.
“Hi,” he replies barely glancing up.
In the morning light I get a better look at my companion. Older than eighteen, but not too old, maybe in his twenties. Dark hair, with hazel eyes, and a crooked nose that looks like it’s taken a punch or two. His jaw is sharp and from the side he’s just a standard man-boy, but when he turns and sets his eyes on me I can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable. He’s good looking but intense.
“You should have woken me,” I say realizing we never switched shifts.
He shrugs. “I’m okay. Day before yesterday I holed up in an abandoned house for twenty-four hours. I slept for about sixteen of those. I figured you could use some rest.”
He finished repacking his bag and I caught sight of myself in the rearview mirror. Oh crap. It’s not that I looked bad. No, I looked infinitely worse than bad. I had a “straight from a horror film” vibe going on. Dirt and grime all over my face. Matted hair sticking up in a thousand directions. Oh, and don’t forget the puffy bags under my eyes. No wonder he thought I needed some sleep.
“I guess we need to decide what to do from here,” he said zipping the bag. He held a map in his hand.
“We?”
His eyebrows knitted in the middle. “Yeah, we both sort of found this truck at the same time. Doesn’t have a lot of gas but it makes sense to drive it as long as we can.”
“Okay,” I reply uneasily. I have no plans on hooking up with anyone else right now. “Where are you headed?”
“South.”
“Right to the heart of the infected area?”
“Yeah, I have business there,” he says.
I do too but keep that to myself. He’s right though. No need to separate until the truck runs out of gas. My feet could use a break. “I’m game to take the truck as far as it will go.”
“So you’re okay going south?”
“For a while.”
We take a moment to stretch outside the truck. The area is clear of Eaters. The morning’s quiet other than the sound of the occasional bird or buzzing insect. I take in Wyatt’s boots and broad shoulders and crazy man-bun. He looks like a hippie but at the same time there’s an intensity that is usually reserved for more serious types. Honestly he reminds me of my cousin Brent, who is (was?) a sergeant in the Army. Maybe it’s the camouflage pants, or the way his back is always ram-rod straight. I don’t know.
“Mind if I drive?” he asks flashing me a small grin.
“If you want—I mean, I’m the one with the most sleep.”
“I’m good. It’s been a while since I’ve been behind the wheel.”
See? Reckless—but controlling. I can’t figure out what this guy is all about.
We hop in the truck and as it quickly revs to life, I consider how this must be how it will be from now on. Losing people one day and moving on the next. Meeting new people and hoping they’re allies. I take a quick glance at Wyatt and hope I haven’t made a mistake.
Chapter Sixteen
~Before~
8 Weeks Earlier
After hours of waiting, I finally hear Liza’s pebbles tap against my bedroom window. Double checking that my door is locked I open the sash. Liza and Matt and Olivia, two other kids from school, are waiting two floors down in my backyard.
Liza looks both ways and waves me down. It takes a bit of acrobatics—jumping from the gable to the porch roof and down a drain pipe, but I make it to the yard in one piece.
None of us speak until we’re on the path behind the school. “Did you have any problem getting out?” I ask the others. We each hold a flashlight to cut away at the dark.
“My dad was passed out,” Olivia says with a shrug. “It’s like he thinks all the beer will be gone when the Eaters take over so he has to drink it all now.”