We sat around the fire getting warm, patching up the two injured. Naomi gave me glances, a slight smile each time she tended to our air force man.
We were okay, I thought and I tried to relax by the fire. Tried not to flinch at every sound in the woods, every crack of twigs or whistle of wind. I took comfort we were deep enough inside. We would hear anyone, living or otherwise, approach from far out.
“I'm sorry,” were his first words, stopping to take a drop of water offered from Naomi's bottle. He looked so much different without the scarlet mask; our age, maybe a little older. Weather worn, face down-turned.
“I'm sorry,” he repeated, his look falling on the gun resting on my lap.
Our gazes caught and he said the words again.
“You didn't know we weren't infected,” I said, sharing a look with Naomi. “But now I need you to tell us everything.”
And he did.
“They lied,” I said, trying to hold back the anger I didn’t mean for him.
“Or they didn't know,” Naomi added.
Lane stared back, no reaction to the words.
“It's still spreading in the air. No one touched your man,” I said.
“Spicer. His name was Leading Hand James Spicer,” he replied, looking down at the ground.
“And your name?” Zoe asked, her voice soft from the other side of the fire.
“Commander…” he said, cutting himself off, his eyes turning down. “Connor Lane.”
“Well, Connor Lane,” Andrew said, leaning up at my side, the pain stretching out his face. “Welcome to hell.”
Zoe snapped his way and Andrew relaxed back, letting the air suck through a tense smile as he did.
“So what do you think, Commander Lane?” I said, looking him in the eye.
“Connor. Or Lane, please,” he replied. “I’ve already told you.”
I shook my head.
“You’ve told us what you’ve been told, not what you think.”
He kept his gaze on mine for a moment, then looked around the group before staring deep into the dancing licks of the fire.
“I think we don’t know shit. I think they’re making it up as they go along. Spicer wasn’t bitten,” he said, his face hardening as I watched his effort to control his breath. “But still, those eyes.”
I nodded and filled the space when he stopped talking.
“We’ve lost three to bites. They bleed out and die, then…,” I said, but couldn’t continue.
“We all know what comes next,” Naomi said, as we shared a nodding glance.
“I’m sorry,” Lane said as he turned my way.
“I think death is the key factor,” I replied. “I guess, what else matters?” Following every other face, I turned and let the flames mesmerise my attention.
“So what next?” I said, after what seemed like an age of listening to the wind in the leaves and the crack and pop of wood in the flames. I looked at each face reflecting the question.
Lane was the first to speak.
“We should wait here. They'll come and rescue us. They know where we are, there's a transponder in the helicopter. Even if it's damaged, they'll have our last position.”
I watched as faces lit up. I didn't want to be the one to let them down, but I couldn’t keep my concerns to myself.
“They’d risk another crew for someone who's already infected?”
The faces around the fire fell.
“I'd like to think so,” Lane replied, still sipping the water.
“I'd like to think so, too,” I said. “But what if they come? They were in the same briefing, right?”
Lane nodded.
“They see you, then fine. Hugs all round. They see us and open fire.” I waited for someone to argue. “Tell me why they're not like you.”
Lane took his time.
“We don't decide,” he said, his gaze floating around the group. “We call it in and they sign off.”
“Exactly,” I replied.
Zoe was the first to react with sobs from across the fire.
“So, what do we do?” Naomi said, standing, moving around to comfort her.
“We get warm. Rest up. Take stock. It's still early. But we need to get on the move, find somewhere warm and secure for tonight,” I said.
“Then what?” It was Naomi again.
I looked to Lane, nodding back in my direction as if he knew what I was going to say.
“We keep moving north.”
Lane continued nodding as deep as his bandaged forehead would allow.
“Then?” Naomi said, leaning in.
I drew a deep breath, all heads turning in the same direction toward the road at the heavy crack of twigs, the damp leaves rustling.
I palmed the gun and rose to my feet, twisting my head around.
“We see if civilisation lets us back in.”
31
I returned to camp, no shots fired. The noise was from a deer or smaller, at least something alive. I was sure zombies never hid in the movies. Right?
Cassie stood by the fire, the gun in her hand and looking at me, nodding as I forced the corners of my mouth high. Ellie was asleep close to the fire; Cassie's every other glance checking a stray ember hadn't caught her clothes.
Andrew lowered himself down as he saw me arrive through the bushes, pain still drawing his features out. He needed to rest but staying here wasn't a long-term choice.
The same went for Lane, but our need for tonight's shelter was so much more important. We had to find somewhere we could keep warm, somewhere we could barricade before we slept.
I needed sleep bad, the corners of my eyes screaming out for rest.
Watching me sit, Cassie stayed on her feet and took nervous steps. It was clear she wanted to be on the move. I understood.
Beside me was the pile of supplies. Between us, we'd done
