“How many people are here?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Almost 3,000 I think. When Warm Springs fell apart most of us came here and some others joined us later, but a lot of people bailed. Followed the psycho.”
I frown. “Who are you talking about?”
Sam looks at me like he thinks I’m messing with him. I glance at Ryan and Trent to see if they know something I don’t, but they look as confused as I feel.
“You guys really don’t know, do you?”
I shake my head, see the boys do the same.
“Wow, maybe you really aren’t Colonists.”
“We’re not,” I insist angrily.
“Taylor says you know stuff, though. Insider stuff.”
“Yeah, because I was inside a Colony as a prisoner,” I blurt out, deciding to go for the truth since my lie was weak anyway.
“And you got out?” Sam asks skeptically.
“Barely. The people inside, they feel just as trapped as I did. They helped me escape so I could get help and come back to free them too.”
“Please,” Sam spits, scowling at me, “they love it in there. They’d follow their Messiah to the ends of the earth and back.”
“What Messiah?” Trent asks, suddenly very interested in us.
“The psycho.”
“Who are you talking about?” Ryan demands.
Sam looks at me. “You say you were on the inside, how do you not know this? He’s the leader of the Colonies. He founded them. The people, they practically worship him and all his crap about keeping everyone clean and pure, about how the Fever was retribution from God for all of the evil in the world and only the righteous will survive. That’s why they lock themselves inside so tightly, it’s why they cruise the streets saving people.”
“Who is this guy? Who are you talking about?” Ryan asks again.
“Dr. Westbrook.”
“Who is Dr. Westbrook?” I ask. “Should that name mean something to me?”
“Probably not, no. You weren’t at Warm Springs. He was a doctor there,” Sam says bitterly. “A dentist, actually. He sucked. Anyway, when the second quarantine failed and the Fever started turning the entire world into zombies, Dr. Westbrook started going on and on about how it was right, how God had planned it. How the pure should be kept pure and the wicked would get theirs. He said because we were inside the Safe Zone when it broke the second time that we had been chosen. That no one else should be let in. That they should all be left to die because that’s what God wanted. He really went nuts. I heard him talking a few times as a kid and even then I knew it was creepy. But a lot of people agreed with him, which I don’t get at all.”
“They were afraid,” Trent says quietly. “They didn’t know what to do, what to believe. The government had failed to protect them so they turned to another higher power. They turned to God. This doctor was promising them that God had chosen them to survive and it gave them hope so they ran with it.” He shakes his head sadly. “They just ran a little too far.”
Sam nods in agreement, his anger fading. “Eventually everyone that was creeped out by the psycho got out. We formed a separate group and started looking for a new place to live. We needed a new Safe Zone. This island fit the bill.”
“Weren’t there people already here?” I ask.
“Yeah, lots. Luckily a lot of them were farmers that had been living and working here already. We came in, made a deal that we would help them clear it of the zombies if they helped us learn to live here.”
“You people keep saying that,” I interrupt.
Sam frowns. “Saying what?”
“’Zombies’. That’s an old word isn’t it? From horror movies and mythology. I mean, I use it sometimes but almost everyone on the outside in the wild calls them Risen.”
Sam chuckles. “Don’t let Taylor hear you say that. He already thinks you’re a Colonist and that’s their word. Westbrook came up with it. It’s biblical. Some kind of reference to Lazarus who was actually a good guy so I don’t get how it works, but that’s what the Colonists all call them. Risen.”
Ryan glances at me. “What does Crenshaw call them? Devils?”
“He makes me call them Wraiths.”
He grins. “Nice. I like it.”
Trent leans back in his seat, putting his book on a nearby table. “So your people came in and wiped out the zombies then that was it? You were just allowed to stay and live fat off the farmers work after that?”
“No,” Sam replies, sounding offended. “We had a lot of really smart people with us in our group from Warm Springs. A lot of military from one of the outposts too. People who knew how to use water to make power and all that. People who knew how to fight. The farmers were happy to have us.”
“Better you than the Colonists,” I say, trying to smooth over the feathers Trent ruffled.
“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “Those people were glad to see us go. They thought that if we were willing to leave the Safe Zone, then we were just as damned as everyone else. They even tried to kill a few people before we got out. People that Westbrook said were tainted.”
The door swings open, startling everyone. Stocky, or Taylor as Sam calls him, comes in with three plates carefully balanced in his arms. He nods to Sam.
“You wanna open the door for me so I can pass them their dinner?”
Sam jumps up. “You got it.”
“It’s nothing special. Mashed potatoes, some pot roast, carrots,” he rattles off, looking right at me. “Couldn’t find filet mignon, sorry. And the house wine is water. You’ll find it on tap in the bathroom. Or the toilet, whichever you prefer.”
“We’ll just have to make due, I suppose,” I tell him bitingly. “Hopefully the desert will make up for the dinner.”
“I’ll see what I can find special, just for you.”
“Joss,” Trent calls to me, “if he brings you anything chocolate, don’t eat it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Trent.”
“You’re welcome.”
After that, after we eat and Taylor leaves us alone with Sam again with strict orders for quiet and lights out, we go to bed. Ryan pulls his mattress up close to the bed, positioning himself on the floor between me and the cage door. I don’t say anything when he does it. If it helps him sleep better, I want him to do it even if I don’t think I need protecting. Even if I don’t want to need it. I wait, lying perfectly still and silent, until I hear Ryan start to snore. It doesn’t take long. He’s had a long day. One I’m going to try my hardest to forget because despite what an impressive fighter he is, watching him in that arena was gruesome, morbid and terrifying. My heart has stopped and run faster than it ever should more times tonight than I want to think about. I also don’t want to think about what that means. That it’s all for him. That my heartbeats are tied to his, carried away and brought to a standstill by his actions. By his wellbeing. By his smiles.
Chapter Fifteen
“Joss,” Ryan whispers sharply.
Gentle hands shake me roughly.
“Joss, wake up.”
I pry my tired eyes open, trying to bring them to focus. To make sense of the Ryan shaped shadow forcing me awake.
“Wh-what’s happening? What’s wrong?”
“You were talking in your sleep.”
“She was moaning in her sleep,” Trent says, his voice muffled and distant.
“I got this,” Ryan tells him. “Go back to sleep.”
“Gladly.”
I run my hand over my eyes. My fingers come away wet.
“I was moaning?”
“And whimpering,” Sam calls from across the room.
Ryan drops his forehead against my shoulder. “I said I got it, man.”
“Only trying to help.”
“I’m sorry, guys,” I whisper, feeling horrified. Ryan is sugar coating it. I was crying in my sleep.