And above the tops of the trees, he sees flashes of light along the horizon. The battle for Washington, DC, still playing itself out.
Ray sighs and closes the curtains.
In the living room, he inspects the drab couch, wood paneling, dead TV and painting on the wall of an empty rowboat grounded on an ocean beach. Two of his cops set boxes on the floor, brought to the motel as tribute by the Infected still living in the town. He can see them down in the parking lot, staring up at his room and moaning.
The sound of bottles clinking against each other brings a grin to his face.
“Jim Beam!” he says, inspecting one. He unscrews the cap, takes a sip, and sighs. “Here, honey, have a snort. You deserve it.”
Lola takes the bottle and drinks it like water, wincing.
“Whoa there, Nelly,” he says, taking it back and screwing the cap back on.
She’s like a child. I have to take care of her.
Working by candlelight, he undresses her and inspects her body for wounds. She has multiple bite marks on her arm, one of which broke the skin and appears red and inflamed, and her feet are cut and bloodied. Otherwise, her long legs are bruised but she appears to be healthy.
“Let’s get you fixed up, honey.”
Dipping a washcloth in the basin of water the Infected provided, he rubs her face and arms, clearing away the dirt. He dips her head into a second basin, washes her hair and brushes it out, taking his time. Then he washes the rest of her body.
“I’m sorry, you know,” he says, glancing at her face for a reaction.
Her face twitches, her eyes open and staring at the blank face of the TV. He wraps a blanket around her shoulders, covering her nudity.
“I’m sorry I hurt your boyfriend. Remember that? Long time ago, right? Well, I’m sorry about it, Lola. It was just me hating everything. This might sting a little, honey.”
Ray dabs her feet with hydrogen peroxide, making the tiny wounds fizz. Lola stiffens but says nothing. He reaches for the tube of antibiotic cream.
“I hated everything because if I liked something, I hurt it until it was gone. Stupid, huh?”
He takes another swig from the bottle of Jim Beam and inspects his work. The wounds on her feet and arm are now clean and bandaged.
“You know, you were the closest I ever came to loving someone. Even more than Tyler, and he was my best friend.”
Rummaging through other people’s luggage, he finds a simple sundress and pair of comfortable sneakers that appear to fit her. She puts them on obediently.
“The weird thing is I hated my dad, but I act just like him. I know right from wrong and all that. I just can’t help myself after a few beers.”
He stops, wondering how to continue. It is hard to explain.
“Screw it. You don’t even know what I’m saying anyway. Open wide, honey.”
He winces; Lola’s mouth smells like an open grave. He takes a needle from the first aid kit and flosses pieces of meat wedged between her teeth. Putting a large dollop of Crest on a motel toothbrush, he brushes her teeth and tells her to spit into the basin.
“You look real beautiful, honey.” His heart aches looking at her. “Why don’t you climb under that blanket and go to sleep? You need a rest.”
I’m going to save this girl, and then marry her, if she’ll have me.
Outside, the Infected pace and grunt. Ray looks out the window and sees their eyes gleaming in the dark. They seem to want something from him, but he cannot guess what it is. He takes another swig from the bottle and belches. He is well on his way to becoming blissfully drunk.
“Rest in peace, Tyler.”
The Infected rustle in the dark, filling the empty parking lot. They do not scare him anymore. He feels oddly at home with the damned.
“The only hope the rest of you have is if I turn myself in.”
Ray places his hand against the window.
“You’re all my second chance.”
Wendy
They set up the Coleman stove in the abandoned warehouse and heat some of the MREs, or meals ready to eat, the Army provided as part of its supplies for the NLA. Sitting in a circle on the cement floor, they eat in a thoughtful silence, the Bradley crew watching Todd, Todd studying the blue ring of fire on the Coleman. This is fine with Wendy; she just wants to look at him. They all know it is a miracle they found each other again.
He has grown up a lot in the past two months, but at this moment he looks like an exhausted boy on the verge of tears. She is not even sure why she missed him so much. They fought and scavenged in the same group for just two weeks. Once they reached Camp Defiance, they split up with hardly a goodbye.
But they went to hell and back. For those two weeks, they were a tribe, relying on each other with their very lives. Wendy remembers standing in a dark hospital corridor with him, guns readied, waiting for the Infected to attack. She held her Glock against his head after the monster bit him, praying he would not become infected and she would not have to put him down. They escaped while Pittsburgh burned, pursued by the Demon. They made it to Defiance and later fought a horde to save the camp.
The simple fact is she feels safe with him there.
And yet he makes her a little sad, too. He makes her remember Paul and Ethan and how they died on the bridge. Deaths that now seem utterly pointless, seeing as the camp fell anyway.
Wendy tells Todd about their journey to Camp Immunity near Harrisburg, where they told Ethan’s wife about his death on the bridge, and how they joined up with the New Liberty Army, taking the fight to the Infected all over southeastern Ohio.
Todd nods and accepts a cup of coffee from Toby.
“You’re going to be okay, Kid,” Toby tells him. “You got your whole life ahead of you.”
“We’re leaving soon,” Wendy says.
The boy glances at her.
“We’re leaving the war,” she continues. “We’re done.”
Wendy studies him for a while. He watches her intently, waiting.
“Where are you going?” he finally says.
“South. We’re going to find an island. A state park or something, where it’s warm all year around. Make a stand. Live as long as we can.”
She and Toby heard the bombing, saw the smoke, and decided to check it out, which led them straight to Todd. There can be no other reason they found each other like this.
It’s meant to be.
“You should come with us,” she says.
Todd
Wendy’s idea is the same as their original plan back in Pittsburgh, before they learned people were resisting, before the Army came home to wage its impossible war against Infection. They would leave humanity to fend for itself, and find a place for themselves. Find sanctuary with people you could trust to watch your back, and survive as long as possible. Not just survive, but live, on their own terms, not in some miserable, overcrowded refugee camp. It is either the wish of a dreamer or the most rational thing he ever heard.
Sarge said he has his whole life ahead of him. At seventeen, it is hard for Todd to understand what that means. It is the kind of thing someone who has been alive a long time would say. He remembers Anne saying she does not get to come back. What about me? Can I leave the road and build a new life somewhere? Anne and Paul taught him your demons can never touch you if you keep moving. It’s dangerous on the road, but some of the worst monsters are in your head.
And yet finding a remote place that is defendable and self-sustaining is possibly the one rational course left. People like Sarge and Wendy are best equipped to survive not just today, but what is coming. In just a year, civilization could finally collapse, Todd believes, at least in the North. Everywhere he has traveled, people were using up what they had while producing nothing, and nobody seems to be planning ahead for the lean times coming in the winter. Salvage is not enough to keep the nation going. Winter, hunger and disease may finish it.