16. Max

16

MAX

T rees, rotters, and the scattered remains of civilization whip past the window as William pushes the car to near breakneck speed toward Emily’s colony.

I used to think finding a colony would feel like salvation. It’s been Griffin’s dream for as long as I can remember, and I believed in it because of him. That all felt within reach at the time, but right now, all I can focus on is the rank smell of decay in this cramped car—and the maddening presence of the woman beside me.

Griffin groans in the front passenger seat, his hand hovering over his bandaged side. I’d like to imagine he’s groaning in silent agreement with my thoughts, but no—it’s the pain from his wound, one his stubborn ass refuses to let heal. Now his side’s coated in sticky tree sap, and Emily said something about it being infected. Not the kind that will turn him into a rotter, thank fuck, but who really knows out here? Anything is possible since the dead rose and the living fell. This world’s a fucking mess.

William jerks the wheel, swerving to avoid a deer bolting from the trees with a rotter close behind. He clips the rotter, the sickening crunch reverberating through the car while the body disappears underneath. In the rearview mirror, I catch sight of a vulture diving to pick at the fresh kill. A wild, stupid thought crosses my mind—a wish that I was that vulture. Not because I’m keen on gnawing at infected, rotting flesh, but because it would mean freedom from this claustrophobic hell of a car.

Even with the window cracked, stale air clings to my skin. Buddy’s large head rests against my leg, where he fits his entire large body on the seat between me and Emily. I glance sideways, catching her gaze for a heartbeat before she looks away, her lips pressed tight. She doesn’t realize it, but just having her this close winds my tension tighter, an edge of frustration and something else I can’t quite name building with each mile. All I can do is stare out the window, counting down the minutes until we reach the colony and, hopefully, some kind of relief from this suffocating, infuriating journey.

I have half a mind to open the door, roll out, and take my chances with the hot asphalt. But I won’t do it, despite how crazy this whole situation is driving me.

To be fair, a lot of people drive me crazy, but she drives me to a whole different level. One where I can’t decide whether I want to push her as far from me as possible or pull her close and never let her go. The things she’s said about her colony make me want to waltz in there with Debbie as my dance partner and kill every single last person who made her feel unwanted, unseen, Tut that probably wouldn’t sit well with her—not with a friend of hers still inside those walls. The one this whole mess is about. The friend she risked her life for, going back into that place to drop off insulin instead of washing her hands of them all like she should have done.

That friend doesn’t know how lucky she is. To have someone who wouldn’t leave her, even when it would’ve been easier to walk away. Maybe, just maybe, one day I’ll have someone like that. Or maybe not. I could settle for killing everyone who’d ever think of leaving me. Then no one could ever leave.

“What are you thinking about back there?” William’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts, and I look up to catch his gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Eyes on the road, William.”

“‘William’? Okay, something’s definitely up. I’m pulling the car over.”

“No!” Emily and I exclaim in unison. It’s no surprise we’re on the same page there. She wants this ride to end so Griffin can get the help he needs while I want it over with, so I can either walk away and never look back—or maybe take her with me and bury myself so deep inside her no one will ever find me again. Fuck, I can’t decide.

Then Emily’s voice breaks, soft but sharp. “Why are you pulling at your hair again? You’re going to be bald before long, and…I quite like your hair.”

My hands drop to my lap, now aware of what I’d been doing. I didn’t even notice. I’d ended up tearing most of my hair out after Nathan left me for dead. It took the combined persistence of both Griffin and William to bring me back from the brink until I stopped hurting myself as much and turned that anger toward hurting others instead. Not innocent people, only those who deserved it. Rotters and dregs. The occasional asshole. Once it was someone wearing a tie. Who in this world wears a tie anymore?

My hair had grown out past my shoulders by the time Emily danced her way into our lives. It’s still long now, brushing past my shoulders. Or, well, sort of. Right now, it’s a tangled mess, half pulled out of the ponytail I had it in.

Shit.

I tug the hair tie free, working my fingers through the knotted strands to smooth it back down. I’m not sure what to make of the fact that Emily noticed—that she’s paying enough attention to catch me in these self-destructive habits when I don’t even notice I’m doing it myself. It stirs something uneasy in me, something I’m not used to. Not only noticing my hair pulling, but she showed concern when she realized I was hurt from my tumble down the cliff. All I did was twist my ankle and add some scrapes to my rugged good looks, but still. She noticed.

She shouldn’t be doing that. Or maybe she should. I don’t know. Dammit, I don’t know anything.

Once my hair is half-sorted and I’m satisfied that I somewhat won the battle with the wild strands, I twist it back up and secure it with the hair tie…until it breaks a moment later. “Fucking hell.” I slam my fist in the back of the driver’s seat in front of me, causing the car to swerve.

“Watch it, will you? I’d like to get us all there in one piece.” William scolds me through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, yeah.” I fall back against my seat, resigned and defeated. I’m slipping back into my internal self-destruction when a slight movement shifts my eagle-eyes to the source of my torment.

Without a word, Emily tugs her own hair tie free and holds it out to me. Buddy lifts his head and sniffs it before setting his chin on top of his paws again and licking his chops.

My heart slams against my ribcage when I eye her small offering, which is far bigger than she knows. When I hesitate, she raises an eyebrow and shakes the hair tie as though I didn’t see it, until finally I reach out and hook my finger through, claiming the object. She returns to looking out the window again, but I can’t stop watching her. My internal battle is turning into an outright war, and I don’t know if I want to set the world on fire or pick her some damn flowers. Not even the lavender roses she likes, but the one that smells like death. Griffin told me about that conversation with her. Sounded like a fun flower .

Once I tie off my hair and I’m satisfied it won’t explode again, I decide to pass the time with a sequel to my previous internal battle. I always win these. I also always lose them.

The silence in the car is so heavy it’s suffocating. My fingers twitch with the need to keep moving. I tap them against my thigh, fidgeting while I scan the worn patch on my jeans. It’s a small spot on the right leg that’s getting thinner and will soon turn into a hole. Huh, it wasn’t like that a few days ago. What a shame—it’s my favorite pair.

I’m about to roll down the window to get some fresh air—or maybe throw myself out of it, still undecided—when I catch a glimpse of Emily out of the corner of my eye. Her head bobs forward, jerks back, then gets tossed to the side while William navigates yet another obstacle in the road. Broken-down cars, dead bodies, rotters—one time, there was even a boat. My lips try to quirk into a smile when I think about someone trying to outrun some rotters in a boat on land. Clearly, they didn’t get very far.

After another minute of watching Emily’s head lurch around and fearing she’s going to kill her neck in her sleep, I can’t take it anymore. I unbuckle my seatbelt.

The locks on the car door snap shut. “You’re not jumping out,” William says in a deadpan voice, his eyes on the road.

“Shhh, you’ll wake her.” I ease Buddy down to the floorboard, but after a slight whine of refusal, he settles into a comfortable position. Then I unbuckle Emily’s seatbelt. Ignoring William’s muttered protest, I draw her down toward me until her head rests in my lap. After buckling both of us back in, I adjust her until she’s settled, securing her head and her neck. She lets out a soft sigh, her face relaxed, and I find my own tight muscles relaxing when I look down at her. She looks so peaceful sleeping in my lap.

Without thinking, my fingers find their way into her hair, gently combing through the strands. It’s soft, finer than I’d expected, and somehow the rhythmic motion calms me. I’ll have to find her a brush sometime. Not that she needs it, but also, she needs it.

While watching her sleep, anger swarms me. Not at her—no, this time it’s for him. For my brother. For the twisted mess he left behind in me. He’s the reason I can’t get past my own issues, the reason everything that should be simple with her feels like chaos. He infected every part of my life with a single action, and he did it all with joy. It shouldn’t be like this at all.

I can’t seem to string together the right words when she’s awake, but here, with her asleep and nestled against me and I’m touching her with such ease? Everything seems quieter, clearer, and all that’s left is the desire to pull her behind a tree and have my way with her again. I wonder if there are many trees outside her colony.

I’m not sure how much time slips by before William’s voice breaks the silence. “I’m pulling over for a bathroom break.”

Griffin, looking half-awake and as though he made love to a cactus, rubs his eyes from the passenger seat. “How are we on gas?”

“We’ve still got about a quarter tank. The last station was swarming with rotters. We may have to siphon or switch cars soon, but there’s a rest stop ahead. It’s worth checking out.” William steers the car down an exit ramp toward a small, worn building with a parking lot that looks empty aside from a few vehicles. “From out here, it doesn’t look too bad.”

“So why not just pull over on the highway or keep going until we find a better car instead of wasting time?” Griffin presses, his tone skeptical.

“Because pet deserves an actual toilet when the opportunity arises,” I say from the backseat, my voice cold while I continue threading my fingers absently through Emily’s hair.

Griffin glares over his shoulder, and I match him glare for glare. “Welcome back, Max. Guess you’ve moved on from all that stuff?”

I narrow my eyes at him, but Emily’s stirring breaks the tension before I can picture what his face would look like with my fist attached. She blinks, looking around disoriented, then glances up at me, her eyes widening when it registers with her where she is. “Oh, uh, sorry…I don’t remember how I got here.”

She tries to sit up, but the seatbelt keeps her restrained. I slide my hand across her hip and unbuckle her before helping her sit upright. “Yeah, funny how you ended up in my lap with a different seatbelt on.” I smirk, though she only gives me a long, unreadable look before slipping out of the car.

Griffin’s voice follows us as we get out. “Everyone stay close. Let’s not wander too far.”

“You think the bathrooms are open?” Emily asks, squinting at the building in front of us. Her long, wild hair tumbles over her shoulders now that it’s free from the hair tie. The same one she gave me without hesitation when she should have ignored me. I still struggle to wrap my head around how she can be so selfless to others yet runs away without a second thought.

My hand reaches up and touches my hair, but I stop myself before I can grab a handful and yank. Instead, I run a finger along the small black hand that holds my hair in place before dropping my hand back to my side.

“Only one way to find out.” I slip off toward a nearby tree to hurry and relieve myself. Then I make my way into the building after seeing Emily’s brown hair disappearing through the door. Irritation prickles at the idea of her going in there alone. I can’t believe both these guys let her wander in there without checking it out first. Here I thought Willie-boy was the chivalrous one.

When I hear a crash from inside, I dash up the walkway and bolt through the doors to find her taking down a rotter, her movements fast and precise. Metal glints in her hand, and I recognize the knife I gave her. I beam with pride. She kept it.

Another rotter emerges from the shadows, which I dispatch with a single movement of my knife.

Emily gives me a look, breath catching, but her expression calm. “Thanks, but I had it handled.”

I nod. “Of course you did, but you don’t always have to.”

Her gaze linkers on me, but then she turns and heads toward the women’s restroom. Before she can go inside, I catch her arm. She looks down at the broken skin around my knuckles, and I pull her back behind me. “Hang on a sec.”

I let my hand fall from her arm before stepping into the bathroom first. It reeks in here, and the damp, stale air engulfs me. Not as bad as I expected, but fuck. Still not good enough for pet. It looks and smells like someone died in here. A groan from the second stall tells me my hunch is right. I love being right.

The rotter slides a decayed foot across the floor, but I hurry over and shove it back into the open stall before slamming Debbie against its skull. I repeat the motion a few times before its head falls off its neck and into the toilet with a splash. After closing the stall door behind me, I slide the lock into place—because there’s no way in hell I’m going to let Emily look inside and see this horror—before heaving myself over the top of the stall door to drop to the other side. I check the rest of the stalls and then the sinks.

Deeming the bathroom suitable for Emily, I step back out. She’s still there, waiting, but the second woman’s voice tells me she’s not alone.

I waste no time positioning myself by Emily’s side and stare down at the wide-eyed purple-haired woman in front of us. “Who the fuck are you?”

Emily’s fingers wrap around my hand. I drop my gaze to make sure I’m not imagining it. The feeling is almost foreign, but so familiar at the same time. My hand opens to hers and I squeeze. “It’s okay. She’s alone out here.”

Remembering the strange woman—and wondering who the fuck colors their hair purple during an apocalypse—I glance back up. “Yeah? What makes us think we can trust you?”

Her green eyes widen and then dim. She turns her head as though she’s listening to something I can’t hear. Then panic crosses her face. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” She turns around and then looks over her shoulder at Emily. “Be careful out there.”

Then she takes off running and disappears from sight.

Emily tugs her hand free from mine. “Why did you have to go and scare her away?”

“If all it takes to scare her away is one reasonable question, then she shouldn’t be around us, anyway. Now. About the bathroom.”

Her brows lift with that same unreadable expression from before. “It’s clear. Second stall’s got a dead rotter, fourth’s the only one with toilet paper, and sinks one, three, and four have soap and hand sanitizer. No running water though, so I’d go with the sanitizer.”

She studies me with her lingering gaze again, like she’s seeing something new and trying to figure me out. Joke’s on her, though. Not even I can figure myself out.

After a moment, she disappears into the restroom. I stand guard and scan the area for any other threats.

Nearby, I spot two vending machines still packed with snacks and drinks. Can’t believe they’re untouched. “Score.”

After a few good kicks to loosen the door, I grab Debbie from her strap and bring her down with a satisfying crunch, busting through the hard plastic. I repeat the process with the second machine and stuff my pockets with as many goodies as I can. Straightening up to shove more snacks into my pockets, I glance out the window to see the purple-haired girl disappearing into the trees. There’s something curious about her, but when it comes to Emily’s safety, it’s better to be safe than sorry. Besides, she already has one friend causing her trouble. She doesn’t need any more. I’m already enough of a handful for her as it is.

When Emily emerges, I hand her a soda and a chocolate bar. She raises an eyebrow, glancing past me to the busted vending machines and then down at my bulging pockets. I shift my hips to bring something else into her line of sight, and when she looks back up at me, I smirk and gesture to the scattered loot behind me.

“Help yourself. I’ll send the other two in to get the rest. They can work for their snacks.” I turn, leading the way back to the car, my grin on full display and pride shining through. I’ve got Debbie, I’ve got snacks, and I’ve got Emily back. This is turning out to be a pretty good day.