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“Tsk tsk. Boss man says I have to keep this safe from you.”
“That’s not what I said, Max.” The man above me scowls but then looks down at me. His gaze flicks to my compass before looking back at my eyes. “I want answers from you, but first we need to set up camp, and you’re helping.”
“I don’t want to.”
“If you want Mr. Pointy back, you will,” Max taunts.
“You named my dagger?”
“Of course I did. He’s a beaut. He’s seen a lot of action, too, but he’s gotten dull, so I’ll sharpen him for you first.”
“That’s because you’re grinding it against the dirt, you dumbass.”
He holds his free hand against his chest, feigning hurt. “I’m offended. But I’ll forgive you, don’t worry. We’ll become best friends, like Mr. Pointy is with Debbie.”
I can’t even begin to think of a response to that.
The man above me disappears and the blond man steps up, holding a hand out to me, which I hesitantly grab. He pulls me to my feet. Not rough, like the gray-eyed asshole would have, but gently. He even steadies me on my feet before pulling his hands away. “Don’t worry about them. We won’t hurt you.”
“What makes you think I won’t hurt you?”
One corner of his mouth tilts up into a half smile. “You probably will, but we’re not the ones who’ll make the first strike.”
I wipe sweat from my brow with the back of my hand and feel something odd. My fingers trace the foreign object up to my temple. I think it’s a Band-Aid, but why?
“You hit your head when you fell,” William says, answering my unspoken question.
“I’ve fallen a lot since meeting you.”
A sad but kind smile graces his lips. “I mean the first time, when you realized we were there. When we got to the car, I fixed up your head before he set you in the trunk.”
“He put a hurt, bleeding, unconscious girl in the trunk. Doesn’t seem like a wise choice.”
“I agree.” He pounds another stake into the ground, and I look around me at the campsite. It started off as a clearing but now has two tents set up and bare spots in a circle around them that Max cleared the grass out of to make a fire in each. The man in question throws a smirk at me over his shoulder before disappearing into the tree line to collect more wood. I’ve only been held captive by these men for half a day, but something about him both fascinates me and terrifies me at the same time.
“There should still be another bag in the car with the third tent. Want to grab that, Em?” William asks, smoothing a strand of sweaty blond hair back along his head and standing up. He’s been the kindest to me. He was even the first one to ask me for my name. Yet the surly one who seems to be the leader here, I still don’t know his. Not that I plan to stick around long enough to find out.
“Sure.” I turn to head back toward the car and dig around in the backseat for the bag with the tent. When I tug it toward me, it knocks against another bag that isn’t closed all the way, so the contents spill out. Cans of beans, vegetables, fruits, pieces of carved wood, and more spill out all over the place. But it’s the Ziploc bag with bottles of medication that catches my attention and I dig through it without a second thought, then toss them down in frustration when they’re not anything I need.
I left my little safe community with the promise to return with the medicine needed to help Zoey. It’s been near impossible to find since all the typical places have already been picked through in the last two hundred and sixty-five days that the world changed, but I haven’t given up hope.
Shoving the fallen contents back into the bag they fell out of and then reaching for the tent bag, I raise my head and look around. Everyone is busy setting up camp. They’re all focused on their tasks. Nobody is paying attention to me. I don’t know where I am or how far we’d driven, especially since I was unconscious for part of it. Not to mention locked away the whole time.
I look over the seat and see the key still in the ignition. Light beams down from the sky and I’m pretty sure I can hear angels singing. I can’t help the smile on my face. I also can’t believe they were dumb enough to leave the key in the ignition when they have a hostage. It’s almost as if they expect me to do it. If I was a better person, then I wouldn’t, but today I’m not. I have people relying on me for their survival, so before I can go over the pros and cons, I climb between the seats until I’m in the driver’s seat and turn the engine.
A thrill shoots through me when I feel the rumble of the car coming to life and I put it into drive. I should dump their supplies out first, otherwise I’ll be stealing it.
On second thought, they owe me.
Slamming my foot against the gas, I run over a bump in the ground and then gasp when Max runs out in front of the car. I actually believe he’s crazy enough to let himself get run over. Instead of stopping, I press down harder on the gas, and then my door flies open before the car can move faster. A pair of hands pull me out of the car right as Max jumps up onto the hood.
My back slams against the side of the car and the angry leader guys’ face gets close to mine, his hands fisted in the front of my shirt, holding me in place. His expression and the way he pushes against me tell me he’s pissed, but his empty gray eyes tell a different story which catches my focus. This isn’t the first time he’s been this close, but it’s the first time I notice the scar running down the side of his left cheek. It happened some time ago so it’s healed, but looks recent enough to have happened after the world changed. Curious, and without thinking, I raise my hand and run one fingertip down the length of it, feeling the raised ridges beneath my skin.
His eyes narrow, not leaving my face. “What are you doing?”
“This looks like it hurt once upon a time. Do you still feel it?” I tear my gaze away from the scar and meet his that’s watching me with curiosity and a slight annoyance.
“Only when I sleep.”
