Page 12 of When the Living Fall

I pull out the small object I placed in my pants’ zipper pocket. “The same way I saw this.”

Max’s eyes widen when he sees the compass, the same one I went to retrieve while he distracted Emily. “So, are we pick pocketing now?”

“What? No,” I shake my head at his ridiculousness. “She must have dropped it in the mud back there. It was lying next to a dead rotter. Scared the shit out of me for a moment.”

Griffin grabs the front of my shirt and pulls it closer until we’re nose-to-nose. “You found something of hers and you didn’t say anything?”

I loosen his grasp and shove him away. “I tried to tell you guys, but you were too busy trying to kill yourself in order to find her. You wouldn’t listen to me. Maybe next time you’ll listen, yeah?”

The rain is pouring down even more heavily now, making visibility almost nonexistent. The urge to find her only intensifies the closer we get. As long as she keeps dropping breadcrumbs, we’ll have her back before sunrise.

“Let’s go. We’ve still got more ground to cover.” Griffin locates her fading footprints and follows as quickly as he can manage. With the rain washing away her tracks, we’re really running out of time.

Normally, staying calm is second nature to me. It’s kept me grounded, and kept me steady, even in the worst of times. The only time my calmness slipped away was when I fell into that trap with the rotters, and then Emily jumped in to help me. She leaped in feet first with complete disregard to her own safety.

Griffin is right. She will do anything to help anyone. Even when it puts her in danger. She could have run away from us that day when she saw me trapped down there, but she didn’t. Now, all I can think about is her somewhere out here, alone and vulnerable.

We don’t deserve her at all. So then why can’t I let her go?

Griffin’s determination must be rubbing off on me, because all I can feel is anguish, thanks to the thoughts running rampant through my mind. With the compass secure in my pocket once again, my fingers clench around the shoe. Every muscle tenses with frustration and fear and—fuck, I don’t even know anymore. I barely notice the icy rain as anger warms me from the inside, beating away my calm until I feel it splinter.

Being calm. Keeping any temper and anger under control for the sake of those around me. Remaining calm, cool, and collected, even when it killed me inside. I did it well. So well, that I stood by and did nothing while she disappeared from our lives, for good.

Always the calm one.

My body shakes with emotion.

Clenching my fists, I tip my head back and yell out her name as loud as I can. When it blends in with thunder, I shout out again and again until Griffin covers his hand over my mouth and Max holds a knife to my throat. The blur of emotional fury dims, and I see the stern and concerned faces of the only two guys in the world I can trust.

“Now, I love a good rotter bloodbath as much as the next insane man but getting us killed or infected won’t help us find her.” Max hisses the words into my ear before letting me go with a hard shove.

My breath comes in ragged gasps, the rage and fear twisting inside me.

Then, through the sheet of rain, I catch the faint sound of moans in a haunting chorus that whispers over the storm. They’re close, searching for us. The worst part of it I led them right for us with my uncontrolled outburst. I can almost make them out ahead, their bodies dragging through the mud, gray hands reaching out. They stumble and slipinto a slick mud pit nearby, one after another, in a grotesque, shuffling dance.

Griffin waves us forward, and we arc wide around the pit, picking up speed. There’s no point wasting precious time taking them out. Nothing is going to slow me down from getting back to her. Not the living, and not even the dead.

9

EMILY

My legs burn, each stride heavy and aching, but still I press on. Every step feels like my muscles are fraying. Blisters throb at the soles of my feet. Slowing down is not an option; when I do, the rotters catch up. We have to stay ahead.

It’s only when the rain finally eases that I feel the parched dryness of my throat, as if I haven’t had water in days, despite running much of the night in the pouring rain. I reach for my bottle and place it to my parched lips, but nothing comes out. I turn it upside down, hoping for a stray drop, but it’s bone dry. My stomach twists when I realize it must have knocked over and spilled in the rotter’s attack. Now we’re out of water, it’s stopped raining, and unless we find a stream or some other course soon, we’re going to be in real trouble.

My mouth is so dry that it hurts to run my tongue over my lips, and my movements are sluggish. This isn’t good.

We’re also out of food, which I only realize when my stomach grumbles. I cursed the rain while running through it, but now I wish for nothing else.

Stopping to catch my breath, lean forward with myhands on my knees and scan the darkness for any sign of a road, a cabin, even an abandoned vehicle. Anything that could give us some shelter. Maybe even a drop of water.

I would even kill to sit down for a moment. It’s tempting right here and now, despite the mud beneath me. But if I let myself sit on the ground, then I’m not sure I would have the strength to get back up again. So, with all the will I can muster, I continue on, with Buddy running by my side with ease. I’ve never wanted to be a dog so badly before in my life. He makes it look so appealing right now.

So, pushing temptation aside, we continue running. The moon is still high, casting enough light for me to make out our path, though time feels blurred. The stars above flicker like little sparks of hope, but maybe I’m growing delirious. Sparks of hope. I laugh out loud at my hilarity.

I’m looking up at the little sparks of hope when my foot hooks an exposed root, and I crash to the ground hard.

Pain shoots through my palms when I land, scraping over rocks and sticks. Wincing, I push back on my knees and lift my hands to inspect them. The minor cuts from before have reopened, smeared with dirt and blood. I think there might even be some glass in the skin from the crash. I never had time to patch them up.

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