RecruitZ (Afterworld Series) (13 page)

“It’s not a safe place.”

“I don’t expect it to be. Let’s go there after we meet with Abby.”

Preston let out a deep breath and shook his head.

“Turn around. I’m gonna put the notebook back where it came from, and then we can take off. I don’t want to keep Abby waiting.”

I looked around the room at everything as I had many times before, but this time I was left feeling empty and deceived. My eyes glossed over at the maps and printouts I’d pinned to the wall. Did those really matter? Was I barking up the wrong tree? Did it matter if Gavin never felt the need to tell me what he was studying? I didn’t want to believe that the last few months we’d shared were full of lies and omissions about whatever it was that killed him. That wasn’t who I remembered, who I wanted to remember. He’d never lied to me in all the years we were together. Ever.

Or maybe he had been all along and I just never knew it.

As I was crawling on the floor, placing the notebook back behind the wall, I thought of Frank again and the guilt flooded through me.

***

The coffee shop was pretty busy for the afternoon. Stacks of cookies and brownies lined the bakery shelves, and the strong aroma of coffee immediately made me feel better. There was something comforting about it, normal. There was a small line of customers waiting to place their orders, and Preston and I managed to scoot by them. He hadn’t said anything more about Gavin on the ride over. I think he sensed the confusion I felt surrounding everything.

I spotted Abby, already sprawled out on two tables that were shoved together. She was sitting in the far corner of the coffee shop, sipping a latte when she spotted me, but her eyes immediately fell to Preston who was directly behind me.

“I come bearing gifts,” I told Abby.

I gave Abby a quick kiss and pulled out a chair. Preston placed the bags next to me and leaned over, asking what type of drink I’d like. His mouth was closer than I expected, and when I turned to give him my drink order, our lips almost touched. I knew I had to play the part, but I felt like such a traitor to Gavin even though this minor gesture meant nothing. It was all an act.

“An iced latte,” I said, feeling Abby’s gaze on me.

Preston took off toward the counter and Abby leaned in. “What was that?” she asked, her eyes wide.

I glanced at the tall ficus plant behind Abby, not wanting to look directly at her as I lied, but I knew I needed to.

I shrugged and brought my gaze back to her. “He’s just a friend.”

“That didn’t look like just a friend to me,” Abby said.

“Well, that’s all it is,” I insisted.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding us lately? You didn’t think we’d understand?” Abby’s voice softened. “Because we would. We do.”

I glanced behind me and watched Preston giving our order to the cashier. It was working exactly as he said it would.

I nodded slowly and returned my gaze back to Abby.

“Where did you meet him?” she asked.

“Shackles.”

“When were you at Shackles?” Abby laughed. “That’s a hardcore place.”

I grinned and sat back in the chair, realizing the worst of the lying was over. Now I could just skip over some stuff and gloss over the rest.

“He’s the bartender there.”

Abby grinned and took a sip of her drink, glancing at Preston. “He is pretty gorgeous.”

“I guess he is, yeah.”

“You guess?” she teased.

“He’s very protective and I appreciate that.” I tried to shift the topic away from thinking of him in a romantic way. “I had a straggler in my backyard this morning. Busted in through the fence. He patched it up so that was nice.”

Preston sat down and handed me the drink.

“I wanted to give you a little something for putting up with me,” I told Abby, gesturing toward the bags.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Abby said, her eyes flicking to Preston’s and then back to me.

I slid the first bag over to her, and she reached right in and found the photo album. It was a collection of all of her and Caleb’s favorite places. Gavin and I actually started making it for them after the outbreak. It was fun for us to go out finding the places and taking pictures. Plus it kept us busy and distracted, and we knew they’d appreciate it.

“Gavin and I started it for you,” I said, not even thinking about the act I was playing with Preston.

Abby glanced up at Preston who didn’t seem fazed by it and then at me. “It’s so thoughtful,” she said, flipping through the pages.

“Open the second gift.”

Gabby grabbed the second bag and opened it up. She brought her hands up to her mouth and blinked back tears.

“You don’t have to do this,” she whispered.

“It’s okay. I know Gavin would want Caleb to have it. I have plenty of things that remind me of him, and this seems fitting.”

She pulled the leather baseball mitt out of the bag and held it tightly. Caleb and Gavin played baseball together in high school. After the outbreak had ended, it was the little things like playing catch while we barbequed that let us dream of living a normal life again. Now I wasn’t so sure that was even possible.

“Thank you, hun. I know Caleb will treasure this forever.” She kissed it and placed it back in the bag.

“Thanks again for not giving up on me,” I said to Abby, wishing that was how I actually felt.

She leaned and placed her hand on mine. “That’s what friends are for.”

I felt a scowl attempt to take over my expression, and Preston started to chuckle as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, distracting me enough to shake the scowl free.

“You have a really strange eye color,” Abby said, looking at Preston. Her eyes narrowed as she analyzed them. “They aren’t really blue or green, but a cross of the two colors. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before.”

I turned to look at Preston’s eyes and noticed what she was talking about. I hadn’t really paid much attention. They were unique, pretty actually.

“Yeah, they’re really pretty,” I said.

“Thanks.” His eyes locked on mine. “And so are yours.”

I felt slightly uncomfortable at this mention by Preston. Not because he said it, but because I didn’t quite mind hearing him say it.

“Yeah. I’ve always loved Becky’s eye color,” Abby gushed. “They’re brown, but when they catch the sunlight, they’re almost golden.”

“So what are you up to the rest of the day?” I asked, changing the subject.

“I have to finish an article for school. I volunteered to head up the newsletter for the art department. Little did I know that really meant babysitting and writing most of the articles myself.”

“You know you love it,” I teased.

“Possibly,” she laughed.

Abby always loved being in charge and she loved writing. She also enjoyed the role of the martyr and pulled it off flawlessly. I loved her for it. She’d always made me laugh with her depiction of the events surrounding her.

As Abby and Preston talked, my mind drifted to Frank. Had anyone found him yet and were the TRAC members still surrounding the gym? The only connection I could come up with was the zombie fights. I’d never even heard of TRAC until that night at the fight, and now they were after me. But why?

“It sounds like you two should get on the road soon,” Abby said, interrupting my thoughts. “That’s gonna be a long drive.”

I had no idea what she was talking about so I just looked at Preston and nodded.

“It was so good to see you, girl,” Abby said, giving me a hug. “And thank you again for the gifts. They mean so much.”

I smiled and watched her march through the coffee shop completely oblivious, and I had to push down a small pang of jealousy.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Preston teased.

I laughed and took another sip of my latte when a flicker of light bounced off the glass in front of me. I tensed and slowly turned to look behind me.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

A loud crack sounded and Preston grabbed me, pulling me to the tile floor. I felt the coldness of the tile against my body as Preston laid on top of me. Glass shattered around us as metal canisters clanked to the ground.

“Stay low,” he whispered.

“I have no choice. You’re on top of me.”

I watched as a canister rolled by on the floor, stopping right by my head. Preston shoved it away as another canister fell to the ground.

“I told you going out for coffee would be more dangerous than staying at the house,” I half-mumbled as my cheek was squished between the tile and the weight of his shoulder.

Customers were screaming as the hissing of the canisters released the white fog into the air. I looked around seeing huddled customers along the floor, and the sounds of men being given instructions outside. It looked like all of the windows had been blown out.

”It’s a TRAC team,” Preston whispered.

The smoke continued to fill the room. Everything was a haze. I clenched my eyes to remove the sting, but it only made it worse. Preston’s body relaxed on mine, and his breathing changed. I attempted to roll out from under him, but instead, I was met with a pair of black boots standing in front of me. A spray hit my face and that was the last thing I remembered.

I was weak, and my body felt as if it weren’t my own. I rolled my head to the side and slowly opened my eyes. I had been tied to a chair, my wrists and ankles anchored to the frame with rope that dug deeply into my skin. I tugged my wrists, but the movement only tightened the ropes. I took a deep breath in, but the ache in my lungs started a coughing fit that I tried to muffle. It looked like I was in a warehouse, and I didn’t see anyone else around.

But then I heard voices. My cough alerted them that I was awake.

Damn it.

The concrete floor directly around me was dry, but I noticed dark marks, smudges, and splatters leading away from me. The lights were dim so it was hard for me to focus or make sense of what I saw until my eyes stopped following the trail.

It was blood and there was a pool of it. I looked up and saw Preston hanging from the ceiling. His hands were tied above his head with ropes wrapped around his wrists. His body hung lifeless by chains attached to the beams near the ceiling. He had no shirt and his jeans were tattered in shreds. His head lolled to the side, and I saw whip marks all along his flesh from his shoulders down his chest to his abdomen. The wounds were still fresh but the blood had dried. His skin glistened with sweat around the slash marks. He was unconscious but in enough pain that his body responded. At least he was alive.

I wanted to call out to him.

Footsteps scurried toward our room and the large fluorescent lights flashed on overhead. My pulse raced at the thought of who or what I’d encounter. I glanced back at Preston who still hung motionless, eyes closed, and prayed he’d make it through—that we’d both make it through.

“Alright, boys,” a female voice called. I tried to place it. It sounded familiar, but I wasn’t sure who…

Brenda! It was Brenda.

“Give her some water. Don’t untie her. We can’t trust her to sit still.”

I brought my head up to watch Brenda as she walked into the room. My dry lips cracked and split as I opened my mouth to say something. The tiny cuts burned as I ran my tongue over my lips. I snapped my mouth shut as the taste of metal— blood—coated my mouth. Whatever I had to say wasn’t important.

Two men dressed in TRAC uniforms walked over to me, one of them held a water bottle, the other held a stun gun.

The man with the stun gun grabbed my hair and wrenched my head backward, opening my mouth. My lips split more as I stared at him, waiting for the other man to pour water into my mouth. The moment the liquid reached my lips and tongue, I began slurping and swallowing, fighting against the man who was pulling my hair so hard. The moisture seeped into my skin as I gulped the water down.

“Enough,” Brenda yelled, and the two men stepped away from me. The one man tossed the mostly full water bottle to the ground. My thirst came back immediately.

I saw Preston’s left foot twitch out of the corner of my eye, but I stared directly at Brenda.