The Becoming: Ground Zero (19 page)

“When did I
stop
being nervous?” he finally said. There was bitterness in his voice, and Cade opened her eyes to give him a sad look.

“This isn’t going to turn out well, is it?” she asked. Brandt avoided her eyes, focusing instead on his hands and her hair.

“It won’t,” Brandt said. “It took me three days to get out of the city limits. I had to fight my way out. I had to do things I didn’t like doing. I saw things that
still
give me nightmares to this day. I don’t know what it’s like now, but a year ago, it wasn’t a safe place to be. There were … the infected were everywhere. Even as skilled as I am, I think I got out by sheer luck. The others out there … they’ve survived by luck so far, but they won’t survive this. And I don’t know if even my own luck will hold out enough to get me out a second time. And then there’s you …”

Cade let his words sit in the air between them for a solid minute as Brandt started to rinse the shampoo from her hair. Finally, when he was almost finished with the task, she spoke again. “What about me?” she asked hesitantly.

“I don’t think I could handle watching you get hurt,” Brandt confessed. He still didn’t look directly at her, his eyes focused intently on her hair. “I don’t want to even think of the idea of you getting infected by one of those fuckers. I don’t want to have to be the one to shoot you when you do get infected.”

“When?
” Cade repeated. Brandt opened another bottle of water, its plastic seal letting out a loud crack.

“Yeah. When,” Brandt affirmed.

“You seem rather confident it’ll happen.”

“It will,” Brandt said solemnly, pouring the lukewarm water over her hair. “This is a fucking suicide mission, Cade. This isn’t something any of us should be doing. Why are we even agreeing to go with this woman, anyway? She’s going to get us all killed. If even one of us gets out of this clusterfuck, it’s going to be a damned miracle.”

“I don’t believe in miracles,” Cade said softly. A bubble of shampoo got too close to her eye for comfort, so she squeezed them both closed. “I’ve never believed in miracles, and I especially don’t believe in them now. Entirely too much shit has happened in the past year to even consider the possibility of miracles.” She paused, swallowing hard. “I believe in us and in our friends and in our abilities. We’ll get out of there if I have anything to say about it.”

“That’s the problem, Cade. You
don’t
have any say in it,” Brandt said. Frustration seeped into his voice over the bitterness already there. He gently wrung out her hair and grabbed a towel, sliding it under her neck and gathering her wet hair up before he continued. “If you’re going to get taken down, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. And in a city like Atlanta … fuck, the chances of that happening are so fucking high. The chance that you’ll manage to survive is almost nonexistent.”

Cade slowly straightened, lifting her hand to brace the towel against her hair so it wouldn’t fall off. She leaned over at the waist and started to dry it as she spoke. “So what are you saying?” she asked, her voice muffled. “That we should just throw in the towel now and resign ourselves to the fact that we’re all going to die within the next few days?”

“No, not at all,” Brandt said. He shook his head and stepped back from Cade, drying his hands off before shoving them back into his pockets. “I’m just saying that we need to be prepared for the worst that could happen. And that if we need to say anything we’ll regret not saying later, we should say it now, because we might not get the chance again.”

“You mean me and you?”

“No, I mean the group in general,” Brandt fumbled. Cade felt a smirk quirking at the corner of her lips as she watched Brandt scramble for the right words. “I mean … yeah. Fuck. I’m going to sound like a damned creeper.” He sighed. “Yeah. I mean us too. Me and you.”

Cade leaned over to scoop her shirt off the floor, and she rubbed the fabric between her fingers, watching Brandt thoughtfully. “Could you go get me my comb?” she asked him finally. His shoulders slumped slightly, almost dejectedly, and he nodded and turned away to retrieve it.

That was obviously not the response he’d expected.

Cade breathed out slowly and mentally cursed herself. It wasn’t that she was
trying
to avoid a serious conversation. She just wasn’t sure she wanted one with
Brandt,
because she knew where it would likely lead. And the thought of where it would lead scared the hell out of her.

Her own shoulders slumping, Cade slid her shirt back on and followed Brandt into the bedroom. He stood by the bed, staring into the depths of Cade’s bag. She was sure he was looking at the knives and guns and ammunition in it and wondering if it was safe to stick his hand inside. She smiled and moved around him, pulling the comb from the side pocket. “You said you had a sister, right?” she asked nonchalantly, twirling the comb between her fingers.

“Yeah, I did,” Brandt said with a short nod of his head. He closed the bag again, carefully, as if worried that just zipping it closed would make it blow up. Then again, he’d probably enjoy that, Cade mused with a smirk.

“Then I assume you know how to braid?”

Brandt looked at Cade in surprise. “You want me to … braid your hair?” he repeated slowly.

“What, you don’t want to?” Cade asked innocently. She offered the comb to Brandt, bouncing it between her fingers. “Or do you not know how?” It was a blatant challenge, but sometimes that was the best way to get Brandt to do what she wanted. The man was ridiculously competitive at times, and she used that fact to her advantage.

“I know how,” Brandt said defensively. He actually seemed offended at the idea of her questioning his braiding skills. “I’m just surprised that you want me to.”

“Well, you’re here and you know how,” Cade said. She tried to suppress the smirk tickling at the corners of her mouth. “But, you know, if you don’t want to, I can totally get Remy out of the other room …” She trailed off and raised her eyebrows suggestively.

At that, Brandt snatched the comb from her. “Sit the fuck down,” he ordered, sounding like he was about to laugh. Cade grinned and promptly flopped onto the bed beside her bag. She heard something rattle ominously inside it, but she ignored the noise and shoved the bag over to the floor.

Cade waited until Brandt began to work the comb through her hair, his movements slow and careful, before she spoke again. “So what did you want to talk about?” she asked. She was careful to keep her tone level, and she closed her eyes, lulled into drowsiness by the strokes of the comb through her strands.

Brandt paused in mid-stroke. He let out a slow, steadying breath and said softly, “You and me. Maybe.”

“What about us?” Cade prompted. She opened her eyes to focus on the bedspread beneath her, tracing her fingers along the typically hotel-ugly design printed on it.

Brandt stayed silent for a moment, focusing solely on Cade’s hair and working his fingers through a particularly stubborn knot. “I’m not good at this kind of thing,” he finally admitted. “Never have been.”

“Good at what kind of thing?”

“Talking about how I feel. That kind of thing.”

Cade smiled slightly and reached behind her, patting him blindly on the leg in an attempt to reassure him. She’d guessed that about him nearly a year before. “I’m not either. So I guess we’re in the same boat, huh?” she said. “Give it a try?” Brandt hesitated again, and Cade looked back at him questioningly. “Are you okay?” she asked, watching his face closely. He slowly shook his head. He looked nervous, apprehensive, maybe even a little green. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know how to say this without it sounding … I don’t know. Potentially weird or creepy?” Brandt said. He looked up at Cade with a sheepish smile. “I guess maybe I should just come out and say it.”

“Yeah, that’d probably be a pretty good idea,” Cade agreed. She guessed she knew to some extent what Brandt was about to say. That didn’t mean she was prepared for it either way.

“I … I think I’m in love with you, Cade. I’ve been in love with you almost since I met you,” Brandt confessed. “I’ve always thought you were incredibly beautiful and attractive, and you’re just so strong and confident and fucking
smart
. I know this isn’t the ideal time to tell you this, and it might not be the right time. But it feels like it’s the only time I’ve got. I know you’re not interested in a relationship or anything because of all this … shit,” he said, motioning toward the barricaded window nearby. “But I just … I think it needs to be said. Needs to be out there. You know?”

Brandt lifted his head and looked up at Cade hesitantly, waiting for her reaction to his words.

In the other room, Ethan watched Remy as she lay on her back on one of the beds, eating a licorice whip and idly humming a song between bites. Ethan shifted uncomfortably. The way she ate the candy was a little too seductive for his sanity to cope with, and it’d be highly uncomfortable if his composure broke around the rest of the group. Remy looked at him questioningly as she continued to nibble on the candy. He raised an eyebrow, and she smirked as she realized he’d been watching her.

Ethan couldn’t believe he was getting antsy over how a woman was eating
licorice
. He didn’t even
like
licorice.

“You need something, Ethan?” Remy asked, her tone the very model of innocence. She raised her own eyebrow in return and stretched languidly on the bed. Ethan traced his eyes along the curve of her neck before he forced himself to look away.

“Another Coke, I think,” Ethan mumbled. He slid off the bed from his position against the headboard and went to grab another drink from one of the shopping bags in the corner. He would take
anything
that kept his hands busy and his mind off Remy.

As he straightened, Ethan glanced toward the open dividing door. He saw Brandt and Cade sitting on the bed, Cade in front of Brandt, her back to him as he combed her hair. They talked softly, engrossed in their conversation and unaware of his presence. Ethan couldn’t hear their words—it wasn’t his business what they said, anyway—but the scene before him was incredibly intimate, even though the only thing happening was hair combing. He stepped forward and quietly pulled the door so it was nearly shut, giving Cade a little wave and a smile as she looked up at him.

“Privacy,” Ethan mouthed to her. Cade looked grateful as she averted her eyes back to the bed. She appeared almost shy, and Ethan suppressed a grin. It was so unlike Cade to be shy about anything. Brandt must have said something that was really getting to her. The door clicked shut.

Ethan turned, drink in hand, to see every set of eyes in the room staring at him. “What?” he asked out loud.

Remy sat up, a look of incredible interest on her face. “What’s going on in there?” she asked. Her eyes were bright with the prospect of gossip, and she pulled her legs underneath her to get comfortable.

“I really don’t think it’s any of your business,” Ethan tried. His need to protect Cade from Remy’s scrutiny was automatic. He didn’t want the young woman to gossip about his best friend when she could be discussing something else, something more important. He moved to stand in front of the dividing door protectively.

A huge grin crossed Remy’s face. The expression lit up her features in a way that Ethan found highly attractive. Despite that, he gave her a look of warning as she exclaimed, “Oh my God, are they—”

“No the hell they’re not,” Ethan interrupted snappishly. He focused on the can in his hand, cracking it open with a crunch. “Mind your own business, Remy. They’re talking, and they need to be left alone.”

“I hope to fuck they’re talking,” Gray grumbled. Ethan turned his annoyed look from Remy’s face to Gray’s, prepared to jump to Cade’s defense as necessary. “They’ve been dancing around each other for ages,” Gray continued. “It’s starting to get ridiculous.”

“I take it they’re … what, in love?” Avi asked. She sat up straighter and smiled slightly before taking a swallow from her bottle of water.

“In love?” Ethan repeated doubtfully. “No, I don’t think they are. I think they’re just … attracted to each other or something. I doubt it’s love. I’ve never heard Cade say anything remotely like that.”

Remy smirked as if she knew something Ethan didn’t. The expression irked Ethan to no end, and he gave her a dirty look. “Oh, she likes him all right,” Remy said gleefully.

“Like and love aren’t the same thing,” Ethan pointed out smoothly. He sat back down in the spot he’d abandoned. Nikola was sprawled out on the pillows, half asleep, and she looked up at him drowsily as he reclined back against the headboard beside her once more.

“They love each other,” Nikola informed Ethan softly, smiling. “They just wouldn’t admit it to themselves or to each other. Maybe they will tonight. I think they would both be happier.”

“They’d be downright fucking pleasant if they just got laid already,” Gray said, getting up. Ethan watched as Gray went to the bag of supplies and started to dig inside them. “Then maybe Cade would quit being such a bitch.”