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  No, that wouldn’t work. Maybe she could do something else—get her to spare the children, or just make a difference somehow. Even if she didn’t have a reason to live, she could still try and save the others. She would stay strong and fight for them. Alexis took a deep, calming breath and wiped the tears off on her shoulders as best as she could with her hands chained behind her back. Looking around the room, she set her jaw. So many of them looked broken, like they’d already given up, but hadn’t she looked that way a second ago? Maybe, but for now she held onto hope—a hope that they might survive this, or at least some of them. If she could just help save one, her death would mean something.

  The minutes ticked by and the peace from the night before returned to her—not all at once like a flood but as a gradual trickle of water. Before she knew it, she was calm. The world was in chaos around her, but it didn’t have to be that way inside her.

  “She’s going to kill us all, isn’t she?” a woman to her left asked.

  Alexis glanced over, recognizing the dyed blonde hair and face. The last time she’d talked to this woman, she’d had determination in her eyes and a friendly smile on her lips. Beverly—the woman she’d helped pick out a rifle before Chugwater.

  “I don’t know,” Alexis answered, trying to display a sense of peace. She might feel peaceful, but she didn’t know how to show that to those around her.

  “She is. I know she is,” Beverly said.

  “Maybe,” Alexis said, “we can’t change that. We can change how we spend our last moments, though.”

  “What the hell do you mean?” said the big man with tattoos to her left. Greg. “How can we spend this time any differently when we’re chained up like animals ready for slaughter?”

  “Our bodies may be chained, but—”

  “Cut the crap, lady,” Greg broke in. “We’re dead, whether we want to be or not. I just know I’m not going down without a fight. If I get a chance, I’ll kill that crazy bitch.”

  “We can make the best of this situation,” Alexis reiterated. “We can’t give up or we might as well be dead already.”

  “We should be,” said one of the men. He wore a tattered blue t-shirt and his long brown hair was matted with dirt and blood.

  “But we aren’t,” Alexis said. “And there’s a reason for that.”

  She looked over at Beverly and gave her a smile. Craning her neck, she looked at those around her. Most of them were looking up at her now that she’d begun to speak. Expressions ranging from anger to sadness, and defeat to hope adorned their faces. She could do this. Helping them through this situation would be what she lived for. Whether it was only a few more hours or a couple of days, she didn’t know. But she wouldn’t give up. She would be a beacon of hope for those around her. That’s exactly what she’d been called to do.

  “We don’t have to be hopeless,” Alexis said, raising her voice so those around her could hear. “Just because we’re captives doesn’t mean we’re defeated.”

  “No, we’re not defeated, but to be all positive is like blowing rainbows up our asses!” Greg said.

  “Why do you fight it, Greg?” Alexis asked him. “If you want to wallow in your despair, then do so, but don’t drag these people down with you. Just look at some of the heroes from history who were in captivity but not defeated: the Apostle Paul, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Anne Frank, Jesus. All these people were killed because of what they believed or who they were, and their legacies have lasted for centuries. If we all die today, our deaths will be the end of these bodies, but they could be the beginning of something else.”

  “Pretty speech,” Greg said, smirking. “I feel much better now, thanks.” He seemed like he wanted to say more. Instead, he looked her in the eyes. She could tell his rage was just below the surface, but he held it back.

  “What should we do, then?” asked a woman with highlights in her hair.

  “Live each moment as if it was our last,” Alexis said, “which it very well might be.”

  “Yes, but how do we actually do that?” Beverly asked.

  “By remembering our lives and those we’ve loved, sharing in this captivity together instead of alone. Beverly, what’s your most cherished memory?”

  Beverly lowered her head like she was about to cry. Alexis let her feel the pain of that moment, hoping she would be able to move past it and embrace the beauty and joy of remembrance. Beverly looked up with tears in her eyes but a smile on her face.

  “The day my daughter was born,” Beverly said. “She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. As I held her in my arms, I thought to myself that this moment would never be surpassed. It wasn’t.” By the end, her tears had slowed and her smile had grown.

  “Where’s your daughter now?” Alexis asked.

  “She’s dead,” Beverly said.

  “I’m sorry,” Alexis said.

  “It’s okay. It happened three years ago. Leukemia. That first year after I lost her was hard—a lot harder than this, actually.”

  “We were born facing hardships,” Alexis said, “and we will die before we stop facing them. We just have to remember to stay strong and keep our faith.”

  Beverly nodded. “You’re right.”

  “What if we don’t go anywhere when we die?” a man asked from her left.

  Alexis glanced over at him. He was a younger man with red hair and a full beard. She’d never met him before, though she’d seen him around.

  “What’s your name?” Alexis asked.

  “Troy,” said the man.

  “Well, Troy. What do you believe in?”

  “I was raised Catholic, but it didn’t stick.”

  “Me too,” said an older woman with black hair. When Alexis looked at her, she added. “I’m Abby.”

  “I can’t tell you what to believe in. You have to decide that for yourselves. But I can tell you what I believe: there is a God and he died for our sins.” That felt weird for her to say. She hadn’t talked about this kind of stuff since she was young. It was almost an alien concept to her, even though she believed it whole-heartedly now. The words just flowed out of her and she continued. “I was raised a Christian but didn’t embrace it as an adult until… yesterday.”

  A few of the group laughed and she smiled. She was breaking through their walls, getting them to open up. Now she just had to keep them talking and show them that they could truly live in these last moments.

  “What about you?” Beverly asked. “What’s your memory?”

  The question took Alexis aback, but she should’ve been prepared to share her past if she was asking these people to dig into theirs. The memory was easy to recall, but it brought such pain that she rarely thought about it. It was her little brother, who’d been taken too soon.

  “My little brother’s face when we used to build with Legos in his room. He always thought it was so cool when his big sister would play with him. I just did it to see that smile on his face.”

  She paused, remembering those times. It’d been so long ago, but the image was burned into her mind. The last time she’d seen her brother’s smile, Mason had been on the back of her dad’s ATV as they drove down the two-track on their ranch in Texas. Dad had finally started letting her drive the miniature ATV when they went out riding. Mom hated it, saying a ten-year-old was too young to drive anything. They’d been out behind the house and Mason held onto Emmett in front of him, smiling back at her. He stuck out his tongue and she laughed, sticking her tongue out in return. They were approaching The Hill, which was the best part of the whole ride. At the time it had seemed like a mountain, but once she’d grown up she’d realized it was just a big hill.

  “Something happened to him,” Beverly said, snapping her back to the present.

  Alexis looked up at her, unaware of the tears gathering in her eyes. She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

  “He died in an ATV accident when we were young. It was the cause of my parents’ divorce,” Alexis
said, still lost in the memory.

  Just thinking about his smile brought everything back: her dad’s ATV flipping over; Mason tumbling down the hill; the ATV landing squarely on him, crushing his chest; the ride to the emergency room; her feelings of being completely helpless; the funeral and the rift it had caused in her parent’s marriage. Looking back, she could see that the rift had been there years before, but the death of her brother had ripped it wide open. She remembered the yelling late at night, her hiding under the covers, crying, and her dad coming in to slump against her bed, his head in his hands.

  Then the next hit had come—the divorce. In the same year her brother had passed away, her parents split up. The only reason Jane had won custody of Alexis was because she accused Emmett of negligent care, and she’d planned the court hearing while he was deployed overseas. Alexis never forgave her mother for that and she knew it. When Jane had married George, she’d become even more distant and embittered toward Alexis and Emmett. It was a shame. They had once been a happy family, but Jane couldn’t handle all the time Emmett was away.

  “I lost my brother and my family split apart in the same year,” Alexis said, looking around at them. “We were never the same after that. It wasn’t until my dad was out of the service and I was in high school that we reconnected. But I would rather keep those memories of my brother’s smile, even if all the pain comes with it.”

  Beverly nodded. “The pain doesn’t dull the joy.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Alexis said. She glanced at the man with the ragged blue t-shirt who’d spoken before. “What’s your name?”

  “Evan,” said the man.

  “And your best memory?” Alexis asked.

  “Stephanie’s birthday,” Evan said after taking a few moments to think. “We were all there—my wife and four daughters. Just the six of us. After the party ended, we were all lying on the trampoline, looking up at the clouds and guessing what they were… It was perfect.” There were tears in his eyes. The small smile on his face faded quickly, replaced by pain and anger. “That was Friday. The next day I was at the school when we got the broadcast to stay where we were. I listened. After two days of sitting there, I couldn’t take it any longer. I went back to our house. They… were all dead. My whole life torn away in a single day.”

  “I’m sorry. You’re not alone in your loss,” Alexis said.

  “I just want my girls back,” Evan said, choking back tears.

  “I’m sorry, man,” said a younger man. “I know how much you loved your family. We’re here for you. You don’t have to face this alone.”

  “Thanks, Lucas,” Evan said, closing his eyes. Tears ran down his cheeks and he leaned back against the post.

  “I was lucky,” Lucas said, looking at Alexis. “I don’t have a family. For once, being an orphan has paid off. My best memory would be when you guys got us out of the school. I thought we were going to die in that gym. Then you showed up and saved us. I can’t thank you enough for that.”

  “Yeah, saved us just to die out here,” Greg said. “So much better.”

  “Look, Greg,” Lucas said. “I know you’ve had it rough, but man up! At least out here we have a fighting chance instead of sitting back there, waiting to die.”

  “You little prick, you have no idea what I’ve been through,” Greg said, growling.

  “Stop it, you two!” said an older woman with gray hair. She looked at Alexis, smiling. “Hi, I’m Helen, the third-grade teacher. I appreciate what you’re doing here. It’s good to remember that there’s still hope.”

  Alexis smiled. “Thanks.”

  “Now, my memory is a long one,” Helen began, “but I think we have time.”

  A few of them laughed. Helen had that old-woman charisma about her. After she’d finished sharing her story, people started following her lead, and they spent the next few hours sharing their best memories. There were tears, laughs, and intimate moments shared between them all. Only two didn’t share. Greg passed and Margaret wouldn’t even look up when addressed. As people began to quiet down, Alexis found her mind wandering back to what was going on outside. Were James and Connor even coming for them? Where was her dad? Was he still alive? The questions weighed down on her.

  The morning turned to afternoon. A few people were able to nap, but most of them just sat chained to the posts, their minds wandering. The uplifting mood faded as the hours passed but it didn’t feel as hopeless as it had before. There was a reason these people were still alive: they were survivors. It would take a lot more than this to completely break them. Well, except for Margaret. She hadn’t spoken since that morning and spent most of the time staring at the ground or crying.

  The pole barn stayed surprisingly cool during the heat of the day, even though the sun was beating down outside. She was thankful for that because nobody had brought them any food or water throughout the day. In fact, they hadn’t heard anything around the barn since the gunshot that morning.

  She shifted her weight, as she’d been doing often. Every muscle in her body ached and her throat felt like she’d swallowed sand. She’d never felt this restless before. It was like sitting on an airplane for an entire day but all the while with her arms pinned behind her back. But as the exhaustion of the last couple of days and the emotional strain of being held captive settled on her, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the pole. Finally, she fell into a fitful sleep.

  6

  Implications

  Post-outbreak day seven, early morning

  James sat in the backseat of the Hummer as Tank drove them south on US-14 toward the location of the ‘X’ on the map, which was scrawled on the back of the note. They’d figured out where to go by comparing the crudely drawn map with the road atlas. Now, they were on their way to some back road that cut off of US-14 and headed east. The Reclaimer’s hideout was somewhere south of that road, but they weren’t sure exactly where. They needed to find somewhere high to scout, which shouldn’t be difficult because the country around Sheridan was covered in hills.

  Virus by Memphis May Fire played through the speakers on Tank’s iPod. James closed his eyes. It felt good just to sit there, listening to the lyrics. It almost made things seem normal, aside from the throbbing in his ear and side, the pressing weight of his tactical vest, the AR-15 on his lap, and the guilt sitting heavy in his mind. Other than all that, it was almost normal. Okay, so none of it was normal and he felt stupid for even thinking it. He was glad Memphis had released this song right before things went down the drain; otherwise, they would’ve missed out on a great addition to their Apocalypse Road Trip playlist v2. His iPod was still in his truck, and he hoped it was okay. He’d really miss his music if it wasn’t. Then again, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Wait. Actually, it would be.

  He smiled and then felt bad for smiling. What the hell was going on with him? It was as if his mind and emotions were inside a pinball machine. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. His control was slipping, and he could feel it. That was what happened with his episodes—he lost what little control he had. What would happen if he had an episode in the middle of combat? It’d almost gotten him bitten before. Would this be what got him or someone else killed? No, he wouldn’t let that happen. He could keep his mind under control. Or could he?

  Lord, help me, James prayed, in desperation.

  He wanted to say more, but that’s all that came to mind. Everything just seemed to be going wrong and he had no idea how to fix any of it. His faith felt strong one moment, like he could move mountains; then, with a new turn of events, he was right back where he’d started. When was it ever going to end?

  When you let go and trust, a small part of his mind said.

  Let go and trust.

  That was something he had an extremely difficult time doing. Even in normal life, before the apocalypse, he’d had a hard time with that. He wanted to have control, to be the one making the plans and in charge, but things very rarely
worked out when he took the reins from God. He usually ended up in the ditch, a wreck of emotions. It just never worked out for him when he grasped for the control he knew he didn’t have. If he thought back, he could remember all the times when he’d released control. Everything had worked out wonderfully—perhaps not exactly how he’d wanted it, but usually the situations had ended up better than he would have imagined. So why was it so hard for him to let go?

  The Hummer slowed and James opened his eyes. Tank turned left onto a red dirt road leading east into the hills.

  “We need to be careful,” James said, adjusting the bandage over his ear. “The map may not be the most accurate.”

  “My thoughts precisely,” Tank said. “The first place that looks good, I’ll pull over.”

  They continued at a much slower speed. The sky before them was brightening quickly. There would be enough light to see soon. That meant they only had about thirty minutes until sunrise and the first death. James tried not to think about who they would kill first, but it was useless. His mind kept bringing up images of Alexis or little Olive. Hopefully, it would be one of the other survivors from Burns, just not Mila, Olive, or the kids. He felt sick to his stomach for wishing death on anyone, but he couldn’t lose someone else he cared about. He could barely hold it together as it was.

  Tank turned the headlights off since it was now bright enough to see. They drove up the first hill on the dirt road and noticed a gated drive leading up the hill to their left. It looked like it would lead to the top of the hill and was the highest location in the area.