9. William

9

I’m almost done washing off in the stream when I hear someone approaching. Turning around, a little thrill goes through me when I see it’s Emily. She hasn’t noticed me yet, still pushing her way through the foliage with Buddy leading the way. I almost laugh when I realize that he’s leading her down the most difficult path. Instead, I bite my lip to hold in the laugh and watch them approach. I take advantage of these few moments before she notices me.

Her long, tanned legs show she spends a lot of time in the sun. I’m surprised that she prefers to wear shorts. Even if they are cooler in the summer heat, they provide little protection. She’s already got some marks on her legs from fighting the foliage to get down to the stream. I make a mental note to find her a decent pair of pants. Pants and waffles. My list is growing.

She reaches the edge of the water and sees me standing in the stream. Her amber eyes widen when they start at my face and then make their way down my body, which is bare of everything but a pair of boxers. Water drips down my chest since I finished cleaning off moments before I saw her, and my head tilts to the side, wondering if that look I see in her eyes means she’s interested in what she sees. She hasn’t looked at me like that until now. No one has, actually, in a very long time. I looked at her once, that first night by the fire. She didn’t see because it was dark, but when she told me about helping her friend, I began looking at her completely differently. Then I forced myself to stop until now. I got a peek into her heart, which is much softer than the hardened exterior she holds up like a trophy. We’ve seen many pretty girls since the dead rose, but none who’ve had a heart worth protecting. She doesn’t even realize it.

When she catches me watching her watch me, she diverts her gaze. “Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was down here. I figured I’d finally come clean up. Max says I’m disgusting.”

I scoff at that and make a mental note to talk to Max about his word choice. “You’re not disgusting, Emily. He might be, though.” She smiles at that. “Now, if you really want to see disgusting, you should’ve seen what he did to the doctor. He left me to clean up the mess, and believe me, it’s best left to your imagination.”

“That’s why you’re back here washing up?” She sets her knives down on the ground and hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts. “I would’ve never guessed with how good you look.” Her eyes widen when she realizes what she said. “I mean, with how wet you are. Clean, you’re clean.”

I run a hand through my hair, sending droplets of water flying off in all directions. A metallic taste runs into my mouth when I bite my lip so hard to hold in the laugh that I draw blood. “Whatever you say, Emily.”

She shakes her head and slides her shorts down, dropping them to the ground in a heap next to her socks and shoes. Dirt coats her legs, but it’s what’s around her ankle that catches my attention and my body goes rigid.

“What’s that?”

“Uh…my bare legs?”

I motion to the marks around her ankle. “The scratches.”

“Oh, that. I didn’t notice a rotter lying on the ground until it grabbed me. I tripped. It grabbed my ankle, I fell, chopped off the hand while Max smashed the skull and Buddy tore into what was left of the calf muscle.” She shrugs like it’s nothing, but it’s not nothing. If the scratches are deep enough…

“Come here.” My command is pointless since I’m already wading through the water toward her.

“It’s not that bad. I didn’t even realize I was scratched.”

“That’s the problem. You won’t always notice.” I push away the darkness that creeps at the edges of my mind. I can’t think about those memories right now. Not here. I can’t go back to that place. Then something she said echoes in my head and I ask a single question. “Max was there?”

She huffs out annoyance. “Yeah, he came to follow me when I went looking for the dreg’s hideout.”

“You went out on your own? We were all going to go together. Was it because of Griffin?”

“Well…yeah. I’m not a very good team player.” She looks away when shame creeps across her face. “People don’t help me. Not because I don’t want them to, but because no one ever has before. I’ve been in situations…I’ve just…I’ve been on my own. Even when surrounded by others, I still had to fight on my own. Zoey’s the only one who’s ever been there.”

Heat courses through my body. I can’t imagine a situation where someone, anyone, could ignore Emily when she needed help. My hand clenches into a fist at my side, and I have to work to uncurl my fingers. “I understand it’s probably difficult to believe us when we say we’ll help you. But it’s true, Em. We work as a team, and you’re part of that team now.”

Her eyes sparkle and she averts her gaze so I won’t see them water. Then she clears her throat and goes back to when she left. “He wouldn’t give me any information, only keep me company. I didn’t need company, though. I needed the information.”

“Yeah, he can be an asshole like that.” If she keeps talking, then maybe everything will be alright. Maybe she won’t be infected. Maybe the scratches aren’t deep enough to pass along the virus. As long as she keeps talking. “Tell me more about what happened.”

She steps into the cool water and I’m only a foot away from her now when she slips on a slick stone. I leap forward and catch her, my arms wrapping around her tiny waist and one of her arms draping around my broad shoulders. I hold her like this for a moment too long before helping her regain her footing. Once she’s standing again, I don’t let her go. I hold on to her hands and walk backward, helping her wade into the stream until she’s no longer on the slippery rocks.

I still hold on to her when she sits down on a large rock, the water coming up only a couple of inches on her. “I’m sorry we’re not telling you where the location is. We wanted to make sure you didn’t run off on your own. Clearly that’s not working.” I smirk.

“Well, I know it’s somewhere to the west.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Eavesdropping, were you?”

“Of course.”

Chuckling, I kneel before her, then lift her foot out of the water and into my lap. My fingers run across the rough scratches on her skin, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. “They’re not deep. You’re lucky.”

“I didn’t even think of checking. I didn’t feel the scratch, only when the hand grabbed me.”

“You should always check. The virus doesn’t transfer only by being bit. If a scratch is deep enough…” I shake my head. “Please check next time. If it happens and it’s caught quick enough, then we can do something about it.”

“Like cut off my leg?”

“If it comes to that, yes. I’d rather have you alive with one leg than dead with two.”

“How can you be sure that would work?”

My voice turns cold when the memories wash over me. The screaming. The crying. The blood. “I’ve seen it.”

“Is that person still alive?”

“One thing about cutting off a limb is that you have to cauterize the wound in time. Not every situation allows easy access to perform that.”

Her gaze is on me. I can feel it. It’s heavy, and it’s burrowing into the top of my head and trying to reach my soul. I clench my jaw but keep my grip on her gentle and hope that she doesn’t ask more questions that I don’t want to answer.

With gentle fingers, I splash some water on her skin and clean the area around the scratches. The area I clean grows bigger as more dirt falls away, and I don’t think I would mind cleaning her up myself if she wants to stay seated.

“I’m really glad you’re not infected,” I say with a whisper, then look up at her and grin. “Because then I’d have to explain to Griffin why I killed you, and he won’t take that well.”

She laughs and pulls her foot back. “Can you still tell him that? I’d like to hide in the bushes or something and see his reaction for myself.”

“Absolutely not. That’s not something we joke about here.”

“You literally just now joked about it,” she points out.

“Doesn’t count.” Buddy plops down on the bank at the edge of the water and watches us. “I’ve noticed the dog has been staying close to you since we brought him here.”

“We have a lot in common. He was rescued from his captors, but I’m still stuck with mine.”

“We’re not your captors.” I stand up.

“You won’t let me leave.”

“It’s more than that.” I move so that I’m standing behind her and then kneel and run my fingers through her hair. Well, I try to, but they’re knotted with dirt. “Have you been rolling around in the mud with Buddy?”

“How else do you bond with a new dog?”

My fingers still in her tangled hair. “Really?”

She laughs. “No. I’ve been fighting for my life for the last few days and I don’t have a brush. That makes for a messy combination.”

“Well, I don’t have a brush, but I might be able to help you with something. Stay here.” I wade over to the bank and grab a bottle from the little pile of supplies I left there, then return to her. “I’d say. Tilt your head back.”

She does as I ask until she’s lying with her back against the rock and her head in my lap. I dip her hair in the water. There’s more dirt and grime in it than I realized, but I do my best to get as much of it out as I can. She rests her elbows on the large rock behind her and looks up at me, watching while I work. I try to not get lost in the curious amber eyes looking up at me. Not that she has much else to look at right now.

My fingers snag on a chain around her neck. Pulling gently, I follow it down to a compass resting over her chest. I’ve seen her fidgeting with it since the day we took her, but I feel it’s more than an accessory. “What’s this?”

“A compass.”

I chuckle. “I know that, Em.”

She sighs. “It was my dad’s. We went camping a lot when I was growing up, so he took it everywhere. Then I took it off of him after he became a rotter. Didn’t think he’d be needing it anymore.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you had to go through hard times, too, William.”

We remain in silence, sitting in the water while I do my best to untangle the knots in her hair. Still, I want to know more about her. There has to be more than the sad stories she’s shared about her current life. “So what’s your story?”

“Mine?”

“Who were you before the apocalypse?”

Her question catches me off guard. This isn’t a normal topic of conversation anymore. Nobody we’ve ever run into has cared about something like that. All anyone cares about now is do you have any food, and are you alive or rotting? “I was a software engineer. Computers were my life, day in and day out. Thought it would be the job to set me up for life. Turns out there’s not much use for a computer guy nowadays. Go figure.”

“Have to say I agree with you. No use for a computer guy in this day and age.” Her words make me pause, but then I’m surprised at what she says next. “Too bad you’re wrong.”

Curious, I meet her gaze. “How so?”

“You have skills that are used all the time. After you kidding me? I haven’t been here for very long and even I’ve noticed it.”

“Please, enlighten me.” I tug her hair playfully.

She holds her hands in the air and counts on her fingers. “Problem solving, systematic thinking and planning, resource management—which I saw you doing and I’m pretty sure we’d be out of food if it weren’t for you. Adaptability—hello, what’s more urgent to adapt to than the end of the world? Teamwork and communication—you’re the least of an asshole here. Critical thinking—if we’re ever in a position where we need a computer guy, boom, there you are. Not to mention?—”

“Okay, I see your point.” Heat rises up my neck and I don’t know how I’ll react if she keeps going on. I haven’t felt this seen in…well, I haven’t been counting the days like Griffin has, but it’s been a really long time. These are things I never considered, skills I didn’t realize I have, let alone use. I guess my job in my previous life set me up for the apocalypse better than I thought.

“Oh please, I’m just getting started.”

“You think you can turn any bad thing into a good thing?”

“Try me.”

“Before the dead rose, my hobby was music. I played guitar and harmonica. I still have the harmonica, but I can’t play it.”

“Why can’t you play it?”

I raise an eyebrow at her genuine confusion. “Music attracts rotters. Well, being too loud does. Even talking like this, there are probably dead dragging their corpses our way right now.”

“Doesn’t mean you should stop. It’s the best way to attract them all to one location, freeing up other areas for you to get to.”

“That’s what you were doing when we found you. We thought you were insane.”

She laughs. “I mean, don’t write that off yet. We’re barely getting to know each other.”

“Good point. So what about you?”

“What do you mean, what about me? I’m not done fluffing your ego.” She smiles wide and I let out a laugh and get back to washing her hair. This time, I squirt some of the shampoo into my palm first. It smells like strawberries.

“Who were you before the dead rose?”

“A botanist. That was my job and my hobby. Both of which are pretty pointless now, too.”

I snort. “Do I need to list everything to prove you wrong?”

“No. But I have a strong understanding of planting seasons.” She goes quiet and even though she’s looking up, she’s no longer seeing me.

“What’s going through your mind, Emily?”

“People used to be so nice before the dead rose. Well, not everyone. But there weren’t many people who were dreg-like until it happened. Like, that’s who they really were deep inside and now they no longer have to hide. That’s my take on it, anyway.”

“I’ve thought about that, too. I think I’ve run into more cruel people than kind.”

“Is that why you three keep to yourselves instead of joining a colony?”

“One reason.”

“Do you wonder if the world could ever go back to how it was?”

Stalling my movements, I push her up into a seated position. Her hair was clean a while ago, but I couldn’t stop, not until now. And now the wet strands fall down her back and over her shoulders, soaking her pale green t-shirt. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. It’s stupid, but sometimes I dream about there being a cure. Do you think that’s stupid?”

Shaking my head, I run my fingers through her wet hair. “I don’t think that’s stupid at all. I don’t know how the world could recover if it happened. This is quite a thing to bounce back from. It’s changed people, and I don’t just mean the virus.”

A mosquito lands on her nose and she swats at it, but it flies away so all she does is smack herself in the face. “Ow.” She holds both of her hands to her nose when her eyes water.

I chuckle and turn her toward me. “Here, let me see.”

“No.”

“Then I’ll just hold you until you feel better.” I pull her against my chest and wrap my arms around her. She’s so small compared to me, but still she fits perfectly.

“I can’t believe I did that.”

“You’re fine. I saw nothing, so there are no witnesses. What is it you did?”

“Liar.”

I chuckle again, but then Buddy is standing over her, sniffing her from head to foot. I’m not ready to let her go, but the dog is worrying, so she’s forced to remove her hands and show Buddy that she’s okay. There’s a small red mark on her face, but she’s otherwise okay.

“See, Buddy? I’m fine.” She moves away from me and finishes washing up the rest of her body. I get out of the water and start drying off, giving her some privacy.

Once I’m dressed, she’s still not done. She’s moved to a spot that’s a little deeper and I believe it’s to get a little more hidden, so I move away. But I can’t leave her. I don’t want to. She could slip and fall and get hurt, and we’ll all be too far away to know. So I sit at the base of a tree where she can’t see me. I can’t see her either, but I could hear her if she calls out. I pull out my harmonica, but I don’t play it. I only look at it. There was a rotter close enough to camp to grab her, so there could be more out there, and the last thing I want to do is attract them. But for the first time since the dead rose, I want to play music again.