Chapter One

Bell

 “No!”

I screamed as loud as I could and ran even harder, refusing to give in. The river was just a few feet ahead. If I could make it—

The stinging lash of a rope around my ankle slowed me down, and a forceful tug sent me spiraling.

At the last second, I managed to brace myself, my forearms taking the brunt of my impact with the ground.

“I fucking hate it when they make me run.”

I didn’t look behind me to find the source of the voice.

The sound of it, disinterested boredom that still brimmed with malice, told me all I needed to know.

I was in a world of shit.

I pushed against the hard, dry ground, testing my arms, somewhat relieved that nothing seemed to be broken. It was hard to tell around my throbbing ankle, scrapped palms, and lungs that burned from exertion. I’d been running for a long time, half an hour, maybe more, and catching a deep breath was hard, though I tried.

In.

Out.

I repeated the words over and over, trying to latch onto air, hoping it would bring me calm. I’d done this countless times these past months, and it usually worked.

Not today, though.

The weight of the rope around my ankle, the heavy footfalls that were approaching… All the meditation in the world couldn’t block those out.

Nor could it protect me from what was to come.

The hard tug on the rope was my first taste.

My body shifted, and I again scrambled, clutching at the ground to brace myself.

But I didn’t stand, knew that the fall from my feet would be so more much painful than a fall from my knees.

My pride, my anger, demanded I stand, but I ignored them.

I didn’t have the luxury of such emotions.

Not in this fallen world.

So I waited, my heart pounding, the thousand thoughts running through my brain converging on one.

Is this it?

I’d survived longer than I’d dared hope, each day a gift and a nightmare. And in the next instant, it might all end.

I’d tried to prepare myself for that, but my heart still raced, my stomach twisting with fear and despair.

I forced myself to stay still, knowing that running wasn’t an option.

Still, as the footfalls approached, my instinct screamed at me to do something.

But there was nothing I could do.

I told myself I’d be brave, face whatever was coming with the pride my parents had raised me with.

But I still screamed out when rough fingers curled into my tangled hair and yanked.

“There’s no need to—”

My words were cut off by the weight of thick leather around my neck. My voice drowned out by the sound of a metal fastening.

A belt, or more like a collar, closed around my neck.

Sealed my fate.

I closed my eyes against the bright sun, and against the tears that threatened to fall.

I wouldn’t let them.

No matter what.

The one who fastened the collar around my neck didn’t speak.

Not even when he—and I was sure it was a man—yanked me from the ground.

He was tall, but then again, at five foot two, I found everyone tall.

He was also lean, something else that wasn’t too much of an uncommon occurrence, especially these days.

But unlike me, he didn’t look haggard, deflated.

No, his lean stature seemed natural, and not a byproduct of what we’d all been going through.

I didn’t make eye contact.

It might help me to do that, try to reach something human that might have remained. But I didn’t risk it, didn’t bother to waste the energy.

Maintaining my cool was the most important thing, so I kept focused on his neck, reminding myself that I had pride, that I had come this far.

That I wouldn’t die here.

Not today, not if I could help it.

Even though I didn’t look at him, not really, I could feel his eyes boring into me.

Assessing, trying to determine what he could extract.

But I couldn’t think about that. All I could do was wait, bide my time, try to be prepared for whatever was coming.

I heard other footsteps approaching and risked looking.

Other men, one woman, all armed with guns and what looked to be knives hanging from their belts.

But those people weren’t what interested me.

Instead, I focused on the group that followed, a shabby-looking group of men and women, all collared at the neck like I was and leashed together.

All despondent.

I’d encountered a few people since this had all started, and I’d heard rumors about this. Rogue groups pillaging the countryside like this was the Dark Ages, which, in more ways than I cared to consider, it was.

I hadn’t seen this up close before, had halfway convinced myself the rumors had no truth. But today, I was getting a front-row seat.

“Found another one,” the man in front of me said.

“I thought she was going to get away,” one of the others called.

“Never,” he said, his voice brimming with pride.

My disgust for him burned at the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down, just like I had swallowed my tears.

“What do you think she’ll be good for?” he called.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

I gave no outward reaction to that, but my heart, which was still beating wildly, managed to kick up another notch.

There is no way around it. This was a bad, bad situation.

But I reminded myself that I’d come this far, had survived for all the months since this all started.

I’d lost count of the time, but the specifics didn’t matter.

What mattered was that I had been alone at the end of the world, and I’d found my way through it.

Just as I’d find my way through this.

The one who’d caught me tugged on the collar, and I did as he bade and started to walk beside him.

My legs were burning, but my feet were in pretty good shape.

The one good thing that had come from this entire ill-fated journey was the pair of shoes I’d snagged from the sporting goods store.

Three of those things had almost gotten me, but I’d finally gotten proper footwear.

Yay for small victories, I supposed.

I walked, listening, trying to gather any piece of information I might be able to use to help myself.

I wasn’t strong, I wasn’t beautiful, and I certainly couldn’t expect to charm my way out of this situation.

But I was definitely smart, and being smart had kept me alive this long.

I’d have to trust it would help me a little longer.

The group—I counted ten people who are were collared like me, seven others who seemed to be a part of whatever this was—walked slowly, methodically.

They were alert, searching for trouble or more people like me.

Probably both.

We only came across three of those things, which were quickly dispatched.

It shocked me that I had gotten numb to the impossible. That the dead coming to life was commonplace.

But it was.

Even more shocking was how quickly all the things that had preoccupied me before had been washed away into nothing.

No bills, no work, no petty worries.

My only focus was trying to stay alive from day-to-day, and now moment to moment.

I shook myself mentally, reminding myself that I needed to pay attention, that I had no time for musings.

So instead I focused, though I didn’t find much of interest.

A couple of the people I walked with started to cry, slowed down, and were quickly sped up with jabs to the sides and threatening words.

I kept pace, knowing that I didn’t want to draw any more attention to myself than I already had.

We walked for an hour, maybe an hour and a half, and I didn’t know how many miles.

The area was rural, the terrain rough, but I recognized that we were getting closer to, if not exactly what had been civilization, then a small town.

Or what had been a small town.

If I had to guess, I’d say the prison was around fifteen miles away, and the direction we were headed had fast food restaurants and stores that had serviced all the people who’d worked there.

I shuddered involuntarily at the thought of the prison. People I’d cared for had worked there, been housed there, and I sent up a quick prayer that they were okay.

We took a sharp left, and came up on a partially built subdivision.

The sign, which had been worn by weather, announced new homes with basements starting from the low two hundreds. From what I could see, there were eight, maybe nine fully built houses, and at least a dozen more foundations had been poured.

These houses would never be built.

At best, they were monuments to the old world, metaphorical tombs for families that were all dead.

“Home sweet home,” the man who walked next to me said.

I ignored him, but didn’t protest when he stopped and bound my hands in front of me.

“Couldn’t tell it to look at you, but you have some fight. I can respect that.”

I wasn’t sure what he was expecting me to say, so I said nothing.

“You hungry? Or thirsty?”

I still didn’t speak, but wondered if engaging him would be better than ignoring him. I was completely vulnerable in this situation and needed to play my cards carefully.

I glanced up at him, looking at his face for the first time.

He seemed young, couldn’t be more than twenty-five, and that was being generous. And, were this not the apocalypse, and had he not just been hunting me down like an animal, I would say he seemed almost friendly.

But whatever he might have been before, he wasn’t that now, and something about the look on his face told me not to take him lightly.

“Some water, please,” I said quietly.

He nodded and took out a canteen.

I mumbled my thank-you and took the canteen, drinking greedily.

I tried to pace myself, but it had been I couldn’t remember how long since I’d had my last drink, and I didn’t know when the next would come.

As I drank, I couldn’t help but smile. My friends had always said I was a little bit of a priss, preferring European bottled water to the local tap.

This water tasted like it had been dredged out of the river and purified with iodine.

I wasn’t sure if I’d ever tasted anything better.

I got ahold of myself and returned the canteen, but decided not to make eye contact again.

Instead, I sat, taking the opportunity to rest, hoping that I would be prepared for whatever was coming.

Knowing that I wouldn’t be.

***

Hunter

“You fucking idiot,” I muttered to myself.

My voice was quiet, only loud enough for me to hear.

Maybe talking out loud would keep me from doing what I was doing, take me off of this stupid path.

But even as I said that, I moved forward, following the group that I had been shadowing for at least two miles.

Hoping, and dreading at the same time.

I knew this was futile.

What I was seeking, what I would never allow myself to admit, was lost to me.

Had never been mine in the first place.

But when I had caught a glimpse of the woman racing through the woods, I had been compelled to follow.

Caution kept me back, though more than anything I had wanted to rush to her.

But I didn’t know who was chasing her, why, or how many.

Besides, it probably wasn’t her.

Definitely wasn’t her.

I knew that, yet still I followed, something like hope threatening to grow in my chest.

I ruthlessly squashed it down.

 I’d never hoped before, and I couldn’t afford it now.

So I watched, waited, knowing that I needed to see her, be sure, and then I could get on my way.

But on my way to what?

Being alone.

Which wasn’t so different than things had been before.

Sure, I didn’t have the usual shit to distract me. Things like hating my father, yet still feeling compelled to complete whatever tedious task he gave me.

Living for those moments when I might see her.

Knowing that she hated me, if she thought of me at all, but treasuring those moments more than anything.

But now, I had nothing.

I didn’t know where my father was, and hadn’t tried to find him. My cousin Lucas was gone too; hopefully, he’d found whatever he’d been looking for.

And though I knew she was gone, lost to me forever, I hadn’t been able to leave this place until I was sure.

I didn’t know where I would go, or why, but I knew that if she was gone, once I knew it for sure, I would take comfort in my regrets and face whatever was to come.

I heard a twig snap and looked to my left.

Saw one of those things approaching.

He—I assumed it was a he, but the dirt and grime made it difficult to know for sure—perked up as much as those things ever did when it noticed me.

I went over to him quickly, severing his brainstem with a quick, precision strike before he could alert any others that might be around.

He slumped down, dead—or dead again, I thought grimly—and quietly lay on the forest floor. I didn’t spare a second thought as I walked away, more annoyed at the diversion than afraid.

Reflected on the fact that it hadn’t taken me long to adapt.

When everything had happened, when I finally saw one of those things up close, something inside of me shifted.

The world had always been black and white, hot and cold.

Dead or alive.

And then, all of a sudden, it wasn’t.

And as fucked up as it was, the fact that a person who had once been dead could get up and walk around opened an entire new world of possibilities.

I didn’t allow myself to think about what it said about me that I saw things that way.

But it was true.

If the dead could walk, what could I do?

I didn’t know, but I knew what I hoped.

Something I remembered as I cautiously moved closer to the group.

I was sure I hadn’t been spotted because the sentinels that were flanking the group were lazy or disinterested in keeping watch.

Or maybe I was just that good.

Probably some combination, but no one had spotted me.

I’d reveal myself soon.

But first…

I got as close as I dared and watched as the group settled in one of the partially constructed subdivisions that seemed to be all over the place.

I gave a moment’s thought to that, how it used to piss me off every time I drove down a road and saw the trees and forests that I loved so much demolished to make a way for shitty tract houses.

I didn’t think about that now though.

Instead, I looked out, trying to spot more of those things, or spot other dangers that I might have missed.

When I was sure that I had at least a reasonable grip on what was around, I dared to get even closer.

I didn’t recognize this particular group, but knew what they were about.

When everything had gone to shit, people had scrambled, fought to survive.

And then after that initial chaos, something different.

People being captured or voluntarily giving themselves over, all in search of something like authority.

I had done my time with one of those outfits, and though I didn’t recognize this group, I could guess what they were the same.

Controlling people under the guise of giving them protection.

Installing themselves as kings until the next group a little bit stronger came in and knocked them off.

Hobbes’s State of Nature in action.

These groups were more dangerous than the zombies, which was why I tried my best to stay the hell away from them.

But not now.

I got closer, saw the bedraggled-looking group of prisoners, my eyes seeking one in particular, my heart thundering so loud it drowned out almost all other sound.

When my gaze collided with hers, everything went quiet.

I hadn’t had many surreal moments in my life, but all of them involved her.

The first time I had seen her back in third grade.

Her all dressed up for prom.

The first time I saw her after she’d come home from college.

And now.

The months hadn’t been kind to her.

Her hair, which had always been perfect, was a knotted, tangled mess, and I didn’t see any sign of glasses, which she had worn since elementary school.

Her face was thinner. The roundness of her cheeks that gave her such a friendly, warm smile had deflated, and they looked closer to gaunt than I had ever wanted to see.

I glanced over lower, and saw that she was still curvy, but she had an unnatural leanness to her, one that spoke to malnutrition.

I knew I looked like shit too, but it hurt me on some fundamental level to see her like this.

 And just like that, the weight hit me again, the crush of failure, a feeling that was so familiar it was like breathing.

I didn’t owe her shit.

In fact, she probably hated me, but I carried the weight of that failure all the same.

Fucked up, but I was nothing if not that.

In that moment, I knew what I had to do.

I looked at her one more time, my gaze lingering on the slump in her shoulders, and though I wasn’t close enough to see her eyes, I could imagine the expression, could practically feel her defeat from here.

I hated it as much as I hated anything, including myself.

I knew there was only one choice.

Chapter Two

Bell

“Up ahead.”

I looked up when I heard one of the men speak, then followed his gaze.

It was late afternoon, and getting dark fast, but I focused on the figure approaching.

Undoubtedly a man, and a huge one from the shadow he cut. Walking with a determined stride that immediately made me think of Hunter.

Which was ridiculous.

He was dead, just like everyone I had ever known, ever loved, or in his case, been more than a little bit afraid of.

Though I couldn’t shake that thought, nor could I stop myself from thinking back to before, all those nights I had spent alone in the library, with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company, when I wasn’t terrified out of my mind.

I’d thought of him often in those times, much to my surprise.

Of all the people that I’d known… Well, could I say that I knew Hunter? I wasn’t sure.

We’d had a total of three real exchanges over the more than two decades I had been in his acquaintance, but he loomed large in my mind, mostly because of how enigmatic he was.

But out of all the people I had ever met, I thought he would be the one most likely to survive this, the most equipped to handle the absolute end of everything.

His father and his uncles always talked about the end, and I had no doubt they had prepared him for it. But when I thought that, I would chide myself for my stupidity, remind myself that the only people who survived were the ones lucky enough to be somewhere relatively safe.

And there was nothing safe about Hunter.

Not ever.

I forced myself to stop thinking of the past, thinking of the impossible, and watched, curious as to what was going to unfold.

I heard the rustle of weapons being drawn, and though the figure didn’t halt, didn’t even slow down, I suspected he had heard them too.

Still, he continued his approach, walking with nothing but pure determination in his step.

“I think that’s close enough,” the leader called out.

The figure took two more steps and then stopped.

“You should go back the other way,” the leader said, squaring up to stand in front of the figure.

He blocked my view, and though I didn’t move, I narrowed my eyes, trying to listen more intently.

“Sure. But first, I’ve got a proposition.”

The voice was soft, almost soft enough that I didn’t hear it, but when I did, a trickle of recognition tickled the back of my brain.

It couldn’t be.

I reminded myself of that and listened, wondering if whatever was happening might give me the diversion I needed to get away.

Being alone in the woods at night wasn’t the best plan, but it beat the hell out of this.  If I could get this stupid collar off, I may have a shot.

And even if I didn’t get it off, I’d still have to go for it.

I had no idea what these people intended, and I didn’t want to find out.

“You alone?” the leader said.

“I am.”

The voice was still quiet, the low timbre like the softest thunder being carried on the wind. That feeling of familiarity hit me again and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Before, I had never had much occasion to pay attention to these kinds of feelings.

Yes, working in the prison a couple days a week, I’d had to be aware of my surroundings, but for the most part, I lived a life of the mind.

Knowledge and words were my currency.

I had been forced to learn quickly to listen to my instincts, to trust my gut, and it was trying to tell me something now.

But I couldn’t figure out exactly what.

“You looking to join up?” the leader asked.

He sounded wary, but hopeful.

The man uttered a quiet, “Nope.”

“You sure? You look like you can handle yourself, and you sure as shit aren’t a pussy, walking up to me like this. You might be of some use.”

“No thanks. But there’s something you have that I want,” the man said.

My brain was buzzing now, ringing like a thousand alarms going off.

And yet I still couldn’t quite make out what it was trying to tell me.

“We got nothing to give away.”

“I’m not asking for a handout.”

“Then trade?” the leader said, sounding interested now.

“Yeah.”

“What do you want?”

“Not what. Who,” the man said.

The leader had shifted, and his movement drew my eye, but only for a moment.

Instead, my gaze landed on the man he was speaking to, the one who I had either conjured from my dreams, or from my nightmares.

“Which one?”

The next word was spoken with finality.

Filled me with dread.

“Her.”

***

Hunter

I needed to play it cool, and not for the first time, I wished my cousin Lucas was here.

He was a real leader, didn’t bullshit or kiss ass, but he was a good talker.

I was a more blunt instrument, but I knew that coming in cracking heads and kicking ass wasn’t the way to play this.

I could handle myself and figured that of the seven guards, maybe two would be real trouble. But I needed to consider Bell in the calculation, which meant taking it easy.

Going against my very nature.

But for her, I would try.

“Her?” The leader looked over at Bell, then back to me.

I nodded.

“You mind if I ask why?”

“I do,” I said.

There must have been something in my voice, for he chuckled, then shrugged. “Whatever, man. But I have some other…” I shook my head, and he trailed off.

“Her.”

He nodded, seeming to understand that I wouldn’t be dissuaded. Then he exhaled and, took on a put-upon expression that told me he was about to try to fuck me. He’d probably been an insurance salesmen or shit before.

“Women aren’t so easy to come by these days.”

“I have an automatic I can part with,” I said.

“We aren’t hurting for firepower,” he responded.

I didn’t think he’d go for it, but I’d hoped. It was time to cut to the chase.

“What about a water filtration system?”

This guy didn’t strike me as particularly smart. Cunning, sure, but no genius. Still, even he could see the value of that.

“Where?”

I lowered my pack to the ground, and looked at the man, who nodded.

I unzipped it and pulled out the portable filtration system.

“You know how to work one of these?”

He laughed. “Fuck no, but somebody will be able to.”

“So we have a deal?”

“I guess I could take the easy way—just shoot you and take it,” he said.

“You could try,” I responded, my voice sounding distant, disinterested, even to my own ears.

He laughed, but I could sense a bit of nervousness in it.

Good.

I knew his type. He was trying to feel me out, see if he could scare me, see if it would be worth the trouble to try.

I was glad when he decided it wouldn’t be.

“Yeah, I could, but why?” He shrugged. “Over here.”

One of the others went to Bell and slipped a rope through the ring on the collar around her neck. I wanted to snap his, but I kept my cool, tried my hardest not to give anything away, and watched as she approached.

She walked, but her motions were stiff.

Was that because of the position she had been in, or something else?

Ultimately, it didn’t matter.

She was mine now.

“Good luck,” the leader said.

He grabbed the water filtration system and then the other handed me the rope.

I looked at Bell and saw her eyes were welling.

Looked away when the first tear fell.