4. Max

4

MAX

G riffin lets out a string of curses and I unbuckle myself, leaning forward between the two seats in front of me to see what’s got him so worked up. “What is it?”

“Rotters,” William mutters, his tone dry and unhelpful as ever.

“No shit. What’s different this time?” I brace myself against their seats and push myself up and over the center console.

“Watch it.” William smacks me when I jam my knee into his thigh. Whiny bitch.

My focus shifts when we get closer and the road ahead comes into view. The sight before me makes my voice catch. “Is that…?” My hand reaches to my back for Debbie on instinct, though she can’t be much help here since the rotters William mentioned are the least of my concerns.

Griffin slams his fist against the steering wheel. Tires screech when he skids the car to a halt. He has only a moment to throw the car into park before flinging his door open and leaping out. William and I are hot on his heels as we sprint toward the overturned car ahead.

William slides to his knees with a knife in his hand, skidding across the asphalt and killing the rotters blocking his path to the windshield. Griffin moves in an arc to fight off the rotters who have turned their attention, and their blood-soaked teeth, to us. I don’t waste any time with that, despite fighting and killing being my two favorite hobbies. Instead, I leap onto the top of the car and peer down through the open door, the blood in my veins turning to ice. I don’t see her.

“Emily?” I call out, but there’s no answer, only the low groans and hisses of the rotters below before Griffin and William dispatch them. Could she…no.

My gut twists—she has to be here. I swing myself down into the car, landing on the cracked window below, small shards of glass biting into my knees. My fingers brush against something wet. Lifting them, I see blood smeared across my skin.

“Emily.” Her name slips out, rough and hoarse. I crawl through the overturned car, searching, but there’s nothing. No sign of her, and no sign of Buddy. Supplies litter the interior, so she left in a hurry and had to leave them behind. I hang my head and close my eyes, drawing in a long breath. She got out. I can’t decide if I’m relieved or upset.

“She in there?” William shouts, his voice muffled from the other side of the windshield, though frantic. I shake my head. My pulse hammers with frustration and I pull myself back up and out of the wreck, landing on the blood-streaked pavement.

I keep my eyes down, unable to meet their gazes, my mind a chaotic loop. All I see is the darkness that shrouded my vision the day Nathan left me for dead. I know this isn’t the same thing, and that she had her reasons—which I suppose must be very good reasons—but I’m still having trouble shaking the feeling that everyone I begin to care about eventually leaves me.

She’s gone. She’s gone, and I’m chasing shadows. I’m running after her like a fool because my friends can’t let it go.

“She’s gone,” I say, hoping they’ll understand she’s not coming back. “She crashed the car, took what she could, and she left.”

Griffin crouches down on the ground and inspects the exterior of the car. “There’s fresh blood here. On the glass.”

“How fresh?” William asks, his voice tense.

Griffin’s voice is tight with concern. “It’s not rotter blood. It’s clean. She’s hurt.”

My blood boils when I hear the last part. She left, yes. But hurt? That thought brings a sharp pang. Still, she’s gone. She made her choice. Making sure she’s okay isn’t our responsibility. So then, why do I want to kill everything that moves right now?

“There are tracks leading this way,” Griffin says, moving along the faint trail he’s picked up. What a good boy. He could give Buddy a run for his Milk Bones.

“What about the car?” William asks.

“Leave it. We’ll have to move the wreck first before we can get through, and we’re already wasting time. She’s on foot now. We’ll catch up.” Griffin follows the trail with certainty, and I fall in behind him, simmering with a cocktail of emotions.

I’m angry. I was betrayed, but damn if I could walk away now.

Trailing behind William, my thoughts spin in circles. Every snap of a twig or crunch of leaves makes me swing Debbie, striking whatever moves—sometimes it’s a rotter, other times a mere squirrel. If it’s a rotter, I make contact and pound until it’s dead. If it’s a squirrel, I let it scurry away. Either way, I swing. My knuckles white around the handle, not stopping until anything undead is truly dead. The darkness in my mind threatens to consume me. It hasn’t been like this since the day we set out to scavenge an abandoned mall in a city of dead. Emily brought the light that day. Then today, she took it away.

“It’s getting hard to see anything clearly.” Griffin kneels, squinting at the scuffed leaves in the faint moonlight. “She veered off the road here and into the trees. Tracking her in the dark won’t be easy. It’ll be safer to wait until sunrise.”

“She can’t have gone far, but taking one wrong turn would set us back a great deal,” William adds, stating the obvious. It’s good he’s on our side. Such a vital member of the team. We probably would have happily skipped our way in the wrong direction on purpose if it weren’t for him. Oh no, he saw me roll my eyes. Oh well. I show him my middle finger, and he turns away. Guess he doesn’t want to see how well manicured it is with blood and dirt. His loss.

My irritation is bubbling up. “We know where she’s headed. Why don’t we head her off and wait for her there?”

Griffin shakes his head, his mind made up. “She’s hurt, and she’s traveling on foot. That’s too long of a journey. Something could happen to her before she makes it. For all we know, Nathan could have lied about where the colony is. We’ll make camp here.” He eyes us both. “Anyone grab a tent?”

I scoff, kicking at a root that dares to trip me. “None of us grabbed anything from the car, not after you found her tracks and said she was hurt. We’re got two cars packed with supplies back there, and all we brought are the weapons strapped to us.” The root gets another sharp kick. Stupid root, growing out here in the world and daring to exist in the path of my foot. So rude.

Griffin’s jaw tightens. “That’s what you think?”

“I don’t know what I think,” I snap. What is this, the third degree? “I’ll go find some sticks.”

Leaving them behind, I head off into the thick of the trees to get away from them as quickly as I can while they work on a fire. They know as well as I do, I won’t be gathering sticks, or even sleeping tonight. Still, neither of them says a word. I keep walking, letting the distance between us give me some space to unravel a bit.

Damnit, pet, what have you done to me?

Nathan’s betrayal broke me, but this—this is worse. My hatred for my brother is almost nonexistent compared to this. Rage knots in my chest.

My fingers rake through my hair, tugging on the long strands. I don’t even feel the pain in my scalp that’s supposed to cause.

She left. But we forced her to.

She’s gone. Because we doubted her.

She’s missing. Because we trusted a lying, betraying scumbag over the ferocious sweetness of her. Emily. Pet.

She left.

But I wish I went with her.

Instead, I’m left abandoned in the dark.

Like last time.

Like last time.

Like last time.

The crunch of fallen leaves. The scraping shuffle of feet across the dirt. The strained gurgle of a rotter. I spin around, swinging Debbie with everything I’ve got in my blind rage.

The rotter flies backward, crashing onto the hard ground. I don’t stop. I keep smashing its head, again and again, until the head turns to mush, and I almost wish it was my own.

Breathing, I drop to my knees, the weight of it all finally crashing down. Images flood my mind—every mistake, every failure replayed in rapid-fire flashes. A hollow cry rips from my throat, raw and aching, filling the muted darkness around me.

I can’t keep doing this, fighting against the chaos in my head. I need answers. The only way to get those is to find her. I need her to calm the storm.