“…Coulda gotten killed, songbird. I mean, Jesus, what were you thinkin’… Shoulda been you on this bus first, not… Fuck, you might’ve…”
“Jack,” Caitlin whispered, interrupting his panicked spiral. “I’m okay.”
Lightning fast, Booker clutched the back of her head and pulled her close, kissing her until she felt it in her bone marrow.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he murmured against her.
Caitlin smiled, kissing him once more. “No promises.”
Returning with a yellowed first aid kit, Nicole started digging out usable gauze and adhesive tape.
Halfway through bandaging her arm, Booker chuckled.
“Average Tuesday on the L train.” He grinned up at her. “’S a good one.”
Chapter Two
Three days later
“What are you doing carrying that?”
Caitlin wiped her brow with the back of her hand and glanced over her shoulder.
“I’m okay, Donna,” she said, smiling. “It doesn’t hurt that much anymore.”
Rushing over to take the loaded-up plastic laundry basket from her, Donna tsked under her breath.
“Your stitches are still fresh,” she said. “No need for you to exert yourself.”
Squinting at the bustling campsite around them, Caitlin tilted her head. “We’re in an all-hands-on-deck situation and I’ve still got one good arm.”
The decision to move on had been made the day they got back from the Iowa Ark camp, but after nearly doubling their numbers overnight and having to help people acclimate, they’d taken a couple extra days to get their footing again.
And then the first herd of Geeks had been spotted.
In comparison to the mother-herd it was miniscule, but that didn’t matter when rotting hands and blackened mouths were coming straight for them.
They’d gotten lucky.
But Caitlin had stopped counting on luck.
The Rejects would be packing up and moving on by the next morning.
Donna’s gentle pat on her shoulder brought Caitlin back.
“I don’t know if you’ve seen,” she started. “But your group has gained quite a few capable and eager hands. No one will fault you for taking it easy. Especially after…”
She swallowed and smiled up at her.
“You’ve done so much for us. Let us help you.”
Caitlin didn’t fully understand the tinge of hero worship in everyone’s words when they spoke to her. People treated her like a savior, but if she was honest, she laid awake at night worrying if she’d doomed them to a life of struggle and heartbreak.
Freedom had a price.
Wiping her hands on the hem of her shirt, she nodded.
“Alright,” she said. “Under duress.”
Donna couldn’t have been more pleased.
“Hey, have you seen Booker around?”
Hoisting the basket onto her hip, Donna said, “Last I saw he was helping the boys dig up the perimeter spikes to load them up.”
“Great, thanks.”
With a final squeeze to Donna’s elbow, Caitlin made her way across the meadow to the thicket of trees, following the sounds of tools and men grunting.
Max hadn’t been kidding about their methods of Geek proofing.
The razor wire and cans were the first layer—a weaponized alarm. Then came the trip lines—thin rope that a person would easily see and be able to step over, but that a Geek wouldn’t notice as it shuffled through the brush. Once it was tripped, it would fall into the rows of sharpened wooden and metal spikes, impaling the creature and giving the patrolling members time to dispatch it.
And if all that failed… Well, that’s why everyone carried their weapon of choice and took turns on watch.
“Hey, Caitlin.”
“Afternoon Miss Meadows.”
“How’s it going, Caitlin?”
One after the other, men she barely knew stopped what they were doing, smiling and greeting her, nodding as she passed.
She responded to each, hoping she didn’t look as stiff and awkward as she felt.
A few yards in the distance, she spotted Booker digging around the base of one of the metal spikes, and the tension coiling in her gut eased.
Whistling to announce her approach, she grinned as he halted his work and looked up.
“I always did love a man who was handy,” she said, tucking her hands in her pockets and leaning her good shoulder against the trunk of the closest tree.
Booker chuckled. “Y’should see what I can do with a couple of days and a hardware store nearby.”
“Weekend contractor, huh?”
“Oh yeah. Best damn kitchen remodel that neighborhood’s ever seen.”
Caitlin admired the ripple of muscle underneath his sweat-soaked grey tee shirt as he turned back to the mound of dirt he was clearing.
The nape of his neck was pink from sunburn and smudged with dust, much like his exposed arms. His shirt covered most of his lion tattoo, with only the very bottom peeking out from where his sleeve was rolled up on his bicep.
But if she were honest, she was truly taken by the soft wave in his chocolate brown hair and the funny little notch in the shell of his right ear. The things that she got to see every morning when she woke up.
“You peepin’ on me again?” His grin was evident, despite him keeping his back to her.
“Maybe,” she admitted. “Just enjoying my reward.”
Twisting to look at her, he arched an eyebrow. “Reward? For what?”
For surviving.
For refusing to give up.
For fighting this hard.
“For letting Donna take over my packing duties,” she said. “Took all my strength not to carry two loads up the hill at once just to prove I was fine.”
Booker smirked. “Always tryna prove somethin’, huh Meadows?”
“I took a bullet in the arm, not the spleen. I can still help.”
“She’s just showin’ her appreciation is all,” he said, dusting soil off his hands. “You helped alotta these folks find their families again.”
“We,” she corrected. “We helped them.”
Making a soft grunt at the back of his throat, Booker ducked his head and assessed where the
