Until We End (16 page)

I blinked. What if I have to? What if he stands in my way?

No. I may not have fully understood why he'd been helping me, but he had been, and he'd done a lot. Surely that meant at least he wouldn't help Lu and Jackson hold me captive and torture me.

Every now and then, a small sound came from the warehouse. A chair scraping against the floor. The murmur of a voice. But not the sound of the door opening. Not yet.

Hours passed. The weight of the day pressed down on me, making my eyes want to close. I pinched my arms hard to stay awake. The candlelight drowned itself in wax, leaving me in near-pitch darkness.

I thought of Coby to keep my mind busy. Wondered if Dad would agree with everything I had done. Surely he would have made different choices, ones that would've left less of a mess. If he were still around, we would all still be together.

I let my mind wander to Brooks. The candy bar he'd left in the bed. To that day in the truck, to his teeth scraping against the skin of my neck, the weight of his body on top of mine. How he looked with his shirt off doing pushups, sweat shining in the candlelight. Sitting next to me, telling me he understood.

I'd miss him.

It had been awhile since I'd heard anything from the brigade. Hopefully they were fast asleep by now. I pushed the lingering image of Brooks out of my mind and crept to the edge of the bed.

The rain still drummed a light rhythm on the warehouse's roof. Not as loud as I would've liked. Every noise I made seemed a thousand times louder than usual. The rustling of the sheets was deafening, the squeak of the mattress like a scream in the silence. I paused, holding my breath, gripping my gun, and listened. Nothing.

I slipped into my boots. My backpack was right where I left it, next to the bed. I slung it on and tiptoed to the edge of the curtain. Pinching the edge of the curtain between my forefinger and thumb, I slowly peeled it back. The rungs that attached the curtain to the piping rattled, and I froze.

I could barely make out the shape of Brooks, sleeping in his overstuffed recliner. He didn't move. I said a silent goodbye to him and stepped around the curtain. Thankfully, it didn't make another sound.

One step at a time. If I hurried, everything could be ruined. My back to the wall, I crept to the side door, praying it would be unlocked, not taking my eyes off Brooks.

When my hand found the cold metal doorknob, I let out my breath. Palm slick with sweat, I stepped outside and had to stop myself from breaking into a noisy run. The rain had slowed to a misting, the air heavy. That wouldn't give me much noise cover.

The truck was parked fifty feet from the fence. I ducked through the hole in the fence and broke into a jog, my backpack bumping against my back. I reached the truck in seconds.

It felt so good to be in a familiar place. I jammed the key into the ignition and turned it. The headlights flickered on and off and the engine made this awful screeching sound, but it wouldn't crank. I tried again. Nothing.

My heart thrummed an irregular rhythm, one moment racing and the next skipping beats.

I got out, popped the hood and stared at the engine. I might have been staring at the cavity of a man's chest, laid open for heart surgery. I knew nothing about cars. Dad had tried to teach me the mechanics more than once, but I was no good at it.

In that moment, I hated myself.

Lu or Jackson must have done something to the truck. There was no other explanation.

Fine. I could walk. It would take longer to get to the shelter, maybe a full day, if I didn't get lost in the city. But if I was careful with my food, I'd have enough for a couple weeks at least. And anyways, it might make them more sympathetic if I looked starved.

The skin on the back of my neck crawled.

I brought my head up. Scanned the yard slowly, needle-like pinpricks raising goose bumps on my arms. My gaze caught on a section of the fence twenty feet away, and I had to squint to see it, but eventually I began to make out the dark silhouette of a person. A big person.

Run.

Muscles strung tight, I pushed off the truck and started running. The night was pitch black, I couldn't see anything, but didn't let myself slow. The heavy pounding of someone's footsteps following spurred me on.

It had to be either Brooks or Jackson. I could maybe talk myself out of a confrontation with Brooks, but I didn't know what would happen if it wasn't him. The thought of Jackson catching me, what he would do, made me run faster.

Then my foot dipped lower than the ground should have been, my ankle twisted, and I went down. The air was knocked from my lungs as I hit the ground, landing face-first and getting a mouthful of dirt and dust. I tried to scramble up, but I was coughing too hard and the footsteps were too close and before I knew it, a pair of hands was on my shoulders, forcing me back to the ground.

I flailed, my arms and legs flying out in all directions, desperately trying to break free. It wouldn't work. I was pinned firmly to the ground, my neck at an awkward, painful angle and the full bodyweight of whoever had tackled me on my back.

“Get
off
me!”

“What the fuck is the matter with you, Cora?” Brooks, it was Brooks. I might be okay.

I brought my hands under me and pushed with all my strength, but he still wouldn't budge. “Let. Me. Up.”

The pressure on my shoulders loosened enough for me to wiggle onto my back, but Brooks still hovered above me, waiting to see if he'd have to tackle me again, I was sure.

“Cora,” he said. “What the
hell
are you doing?”

“Running for my life! What does it look like I'm doing?”

“Don't be stupid. You know what's out there. You'd be eaten alive.”

“Think so? Did you forget about the other day with the patrol? I saved your skin!” I clenched my fists and tried to contain a ferocious desire to punch him in the face. It would be
so
satisfying. “I survived for nine months before I ever even
met
you people. I could do it again.”

“You survived by not leaving home. And the moment you did, you were caught. By me. Be thankful for that.”

I punched him in the shoulder instead of the face. A compromise. “I am thankful for that, asshole! Don't you think I know what you've done for me?” I took a deep breath. Now or never. “I found Briggs. I am not going to end up like that.”

Brooks went still, eyes widening, and some of the pressure was lifted off my midsection. But not enough for me to push him away. Yet.

“You've been down to the cellar? When? How?”

“Tonight, when you went to bury Lonnie. I picked the lock. And if I stay here then I'll end up tied right next to Briggs, don't act like I won't! I'm not stupid.”

“Not stupid? What do you call breaking and entering? The food...” He trailed off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That is the most important thing to them, Cora, the most important! Did you at least cover your tracks?”

“I tried.”

“Tried. You tried? What does that mean?”

“I got... distracted.” By the fact that I murdered someone. “But it doesn't matter because I'm not staying.”

“This is a fucking disaster.” He raked his hands through his white-blond hair. “If you'd just kept your end of the bargain and showed us where your food store was in the first place, none of this would have happened.”

“And what would have happened if I did give you my food? Great, y'all would've helped me find my brother, then what? Left us to starve!”

His hands fell by his sides. “I wouldn't do that.”

I propped myself up on my elbows and laughed bitterly. “No, but your friends would. What are y'all going to do to Briggs, huh? What have you
already
done to him? And you wonder why I don't want to stay.”

“Briggs is fine,” Brooks spat.

“For how long?”

He didn't answer. My chest heaved as I tried to get my breath back and my body ached as the adrenaline made the muscles in my legs bunch, ready to run as soon Brooks moved. I tensed my arms and got ready to fight.

Then I realized the position I was in: on the ground, with Brooks straddling me.

All of the sudden, I was ready to do more than just run or fight. My mind flashed back to the images I'd dwelt on while lying in his bed. His shirt off. Body pressed against mine. Lips on my skin.

I reached up, trailing my hand along his arm and across his chest. His eyes widened and his hand caught my wrist, holding where it was. Over his heart. It was beating almost as fast as mine.

We met halfway, his lips crashing against mine. I gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, and his hands were in my hair, tilting my head back. His tongue slid over mine. The adrenaline running through me was turning into something new, an electric burning, setting me on fire.

I arched my back as his hands moved down my spine, nails raking my skin through my shirt, until he found the arches of my hip bones. He traced his thumbs back and forth over them and then dug in deep, massaging bone, and muscle, and skin.

I pulled back to gasp. He was everywhere. When I took a breath, I inhaled him, and every inch of my skin was pressed against his.

But it still wasn't enough.

His bronze skin was flushed, eyes glowing. “Stay with me,” Brooks said, voice low and fierce.

My throat was too thick to form words. I couldn't say yes and didn't want to say no. I wanted to stay with him, to be
safe
with him, wanted it so badly it broke my heart, but I knew I couldn't.

I brought my hands to his face and traced the ridge of his jawline. Wrapped in his arms, I was safe, but also powerful. Brooks was holding me to his chest like he didn't want to let me go. Like he was scared to let go.

It killed me.

Then, in the distance, I heard something. A rhythmic beating, almost as fast as my heart, pulsing the air and vibrating against my skin. I fell away from Brooks and looked up into the air — because that's where I knew I'd see it: the lights of a helicopter, flying our way and coming fast.

Brooks swore and pulled me by the wrist into the band of pine trees that encircled the red clay yard. We ducked into the underbrush. A small fleet of camouflage Humvees sped up the short service road and barreled through the chain-link fence like it was as frail as a spider's web.

I braced my hands on my thighs to stop shaking. The helicopter's spotlight and the headlights from the Hummers beamed onto the warehouse, throwing it into sharp relief. Soldiers in full body armor swarmed up the stairs, their assault rifles held at the ready, and kicked down the door.

The hum of the helicopter didn't waver. It hovered directly above us, keeping a watchful eye on the scene. My heartbeat raced, out of control. Run? Or wait and watch Lu and Jackson be dragged out of the warehouse in handcuffs? Or would they be shot on sight as deserters?

My body had an opinion. It wanted to run, fast and far, not looking back.

Brooks crouched low behind a thorn bush, watching the scene with his face in shadow. The last two remaining members of his military family had been sleeping inside the warehouse. They were probably as good as dead.

He turned and looked at me as if he came to the same conclusion I had in the very same second. Half of his face was still hidden in shadow, but the other half was grim and haunted.

“We have to get out of here,” he hissed, grabbing me by the arm.

We started running. The darkness was absolute, hiding trees and rocks. Vines tangled around my ankles and low-hanging branches scratched my face.

My limbs felt like dead weight. Adrenaline didn't make me fast, it confused my legs and made them shake, made them want to shut down, and made me want to crawl under a fallen branch and hide. Brooks pulling me through the trees was the only thing that kept me going.

The trees grew thick, offering us complete coverage against the military's search. The helicopter's whir faded. My body settled into a rhythm as we ran deeper into the woods. I was getting better at jumping over rocks and staying ready for an unexpected dip in the terrain. Every collision, every branch and sapling, began to hurt a little less.

We ran for a long time. Long enough to get us back into the city. Long enough to make my toes numb and my breath come in frenzied gasps and my lungs feel like they'd never be full again.

But the run helped to keep my mind away from what might have happened to Jackson and Lu. That cold voice inside me awoke as I watched the military swarm the warehouse. Snakes had twisted in the pit of my belly, whispering, slithering into my chest and constricting my heart. The snakes were glad Jackson and Lu were as good as dead.

They'd deserved it.

I didn't know how far we'd run when we finally came to a stop, but I did know that it'd been miles. Brooks slowed to a trot and then a walk. His head swiveled from side to side, until he spotted a particularly thick pine tree.

He stared at it for a second and then sank down to his haunches, bracing a hand against its trunk. I fell to my hands and knees beside him. My legs were numb, swollen. I tried to call Brooks' name but the sound wouldn't come.

I collapsed into the pine needles. Rolled onto my back. Stars peeked between the branches of the trees above me. I closed my eyes and breathed in the darkness.

I awoke with the sun on my face and every muscle burning. I tried to move and couldn't. Instead, I stared up into the interlacing branches of the trees above me and wondered how I'd gotten here. Homeless, orphaned, alone.

Not alone
.
Brooks stirred beside me. My muscles yowled in protest as I dug my fingers into the dirt and pushed myself up. He was sitting with his back against the trunk of a pine tree, his face pale, eyes wide and bright. Both of us had lost everything, everyone we cared about. Everyone we loved.