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  Pollard and I took off running at the same time. He tore the zombie off Ben and fired his weapon twice. I sank to my knees beside Ben.

  “Are you hurt?” Fresh blood ringed his collar.

  “Don’t touch me,” he shouted, scrambling to his feet and dashing for the sidewalk. He stopped suddenly, stripped off his backpack and then his shirt. Bare-chested, he wet his shirt with water.

  Pollard gave me a look that said, I told you so.

  I ignored him and chased Ben.

  “Stay away,” he warned. He scrubbed the wet shirt over his face and neck, so hard his flesh pinkened. The shallow scratches bubbled fresh blood.

  “Stop being a baby,” I said, pissed off about the restraining order he’d slapped on me for no good reason. And worried for him. The adrenalin faded, and my skin tingled with the byproduct of all that fear. I’d thought he was going to die.

  He faced me, and I flinched at the crazed look in his red eyes. “It’s blood. My blood. What if it touches you? What if you get infected?”

  My mind went blank. I had expected him to say something mean like You stink. Or, Get lost; I hate you. I never expected him to be worried about me.

  “Uh.” I examined his scratches more closely. “212R isn’t transmitted through blood.” I cleared my throat. “The worst of the infection has passed. And if Pollard’s right, I’m immune anyway.”

  “It’s dirty,” he said, wiping vigorously at the blood and not really hearing me. “Just stay back.”

  I found the first-aid kit and set it beside him in the street. “Rub the antibiotic ointment on. It’ll help the scratches heal faster.”

  He grunted noncommittally, and I retrieved my guitar and plucked notes in a distracted way. Only after playing a few minutes did my pulse quiet and my breathing return to normal. I looked over my shoulder at the corpse of the Red. He’d come really close to ruining everything.

  “How long was that thing locked in there?” Pollard asked no one in particular. He stood over the very offensive and very dead Red, his weapon once more holstered. “He’s days from starving to death.”

  Maybe he’d locked himself inside. Maybe he’d wanted to starve to death.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I said. “There might be others.” I scanned up and down the street at all the pretty little houses and the horrors that might lay in each one.

  Ben, finished with first aid, pulled on a clean black tee and straightened it, making sure the sleeves weren’t curled and the neck wasn’t twisted. He nervously fingered the hem, arranging it just so on his body. And then he took the guitar from me and slung it on his back.

  “Yeah.” Pollard left the Red lying in the grass. “We’ll pick up some clean water somewhere else.” He glanced at Ben. “You okay over there?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” He tilted his head at the downed zombie. “For that.”

  “I owed you,” Pollard said, shrugging off Ben’s gratitude. “You saved Hunny. I saved you. It’s cool.”

  Simone tugged Hunny into an upright position, and we all got moving again. Ben still kept his distance, but I felt differently about his isolation. He wasn’t afraid of me. He was afraid of himself.

  Chapter Seven

  We crossed into Virginia and continued our trek through what had once been a lower-middle-class neighborhood on the coast. But I wasn’t concerned about two-car garages or overgrown lawns. I couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Ben’s face as he’d scrubbed blood from his throat. I’d never seen him scared. He was more than that, though. He was terrified.

  I hadn’t expected it. I realized I might not know him at all. When he’d followed me into Raleigh he’d been a blank slate, and maybe I’d given him characteristics he didn’t actually have. Maybe I’d missed a lot of the man behind the red eyes.

  Pollard and Hunny took the lead position. I trailed them while Ben kept his own pace on the opposite side of the street. Simone, oblivious, slurped sweet rum tea from her tall plastic cup.

  “Time to search for water,” Pollard said, turning around to face us. “For real this time.” He pointed at the bungalow to his left. “We go in fast and stay close.” He tested the doorknob. It turned easily in his hand. “Look for anything unspoiled, but our priority is water.” With a final nod, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  The home smelled stale, but I didn’t expect there to be any bodies. This whole area was abandoned. Not even zombies still loitered. Maybe there had been an evacuation like the one Russell had hoped for. Maybe all of Virginia had been quarantined somewhere in the hills.

  While Pollard and Hunny scavenged in the kitchen, I headed toward the bedrooms to see if these people had built a safe room, too, like Dad had in his final days. Or maybe stocked survival gear in their closet.

  No luck. Their closets were full of nothing but clothes, shoes, and old board games.

  The floor creaked behind me, and I spun.

  Ben stood in the doorway, a thick textbook in his immaculately clean hands. He blocked my only exit.

  “You okay?” I asked, embarrassed when my voice cracked. I cleared my throat. “What did you find?”

  “I read this.” Turning the book over in his hands, he studied the back cover.

  “Did you?” I stepped closer to see the title. Advanced Engine Diagnostics. “You were a mechanic?”

  He scowled. “I can’t remember.”

  “It’ll come back,” I assured, though I had no way of knowing that. Because he was the first case of a cured red zombie, I had no idea what he would become.

  “I remember you.” His eyes met mine, and a shiver raced down my spine, making my fingers tingle.

  “You remember my picture?”

  He nodded.

  I inched even closer. “Can I see the book?”

  Without hesitation he handed it over.

  “Hmm.” I thumbed through the massive tome. “Carburetors. I don’t know what those are. Do you?”

  “They regulate the mixture of fuel and air.”

  A tiny smile tickled the corners of my mouth. “You’re remembering.”

  “My mind.” He touched his forehead, struggling for the right words. “I’m full of holes,” he finally said.

  I returned the book to him. “You can’t get frustrated,” I said. “You need time to heal. Do you still have a fever?”

  Without thinking, I stood on tiptoe and reached for the side of his face to check for myself. I froze halfway there, caught in his blood-red gaze.

  “You shouldn’t,” he said softly and with almost no conviction.

  I swallowed hard, bringing my hand down without having actually touched him. “Why not?” My voice was little more than a breath between us.

  Pollard appeared in the doorway behind Ben. “Did you find anything of value?” he asked me.

  I shook my head, falling back a step. “No. I thought there might be stockpiles in the closet, but it’s empty.”

  He held up a gallon jug of water, three-quarters full. “I found a bit. Hunny is going through the woman’s jewelry boxes. I told her it was okay.”

  “There’s no one left to complain,” I agreed. “Someone might as well enjoy it.”

  “Yeah,” Pollard said, motioning for me to squeeze around Ben and join him. “Let’s get moving.”

  Luckily for us, the van on the curb started right up. Ben climbed into the back with Hunny and our gear. After that, we made better time, zipping along sidewalks and banging through drainage ditches.

  At dusk Pollard pulled down a side street. Camp that night was a sports field with bleachers, restrooms, and a snack shack.

  Pollard kicked down the door of the wooden snack building. “Awesome,” he said. “There’s a ton of water bottles left behind. We can stock up.”

  “Candy!” Hunny squealed, brushing past him to grab brightly colored packages by the fistful.

  “You ladies can sleep in here,” he said.

  I would’ve preferred sleeping locked in the van by myself, but Pol
lard was trying to be a gentleman.

  “Thanks,” I said, pulling what little bedding we had from Hunny’s backpack. Thousands of dollars worth of silver jewelry clinked around in the bottom of her bag. Necklaces and bangle bracelets. And lots and lots of rings. More rings than she had fingers.

  “You like jewelry?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

  “Don’t!” She ripped the backpack from my hands. “It’s mine. Pollard said so.”

  “I wasn’t stealing it.” Not like you are, I didn’t add. “I was only asking you a question.”

  “Stay out of my stuff,” she grumbled, and went around to the other side of the truck to pout and count her spoils.

  The building was cramped, crowded with shelves overflowing with candy, bags of popcorn, and vitamin drinks. There wasn’t a lot of room to spread out. Us three girls would be squished together on the floor.

  “What about Ben?” I asked. “Where will he sleep?”

  “Wherever he wants to,” Pollard replied flippantly. “The guy doesn’t need a baby-sitter.”

  “Where will you sleep?”

  “Someone has to keep watch,” he said. “I’ll stay up.”

  “You’ll be exhausted tomorrow.”

  “Maya, honey, I’m not going to sleep with a Red this close.” He gave me a look, narrowing his pretty blue eyes. “I know you trust him, but I don’t.”

  Always the good soldier. But I didn’t feel good about him suffering on our behalf.

  “Then I’ll stay up with you.”

  “There’s no point in us both being tired,” he said.

  “Tough. I’m staying up with you.”

  Still angry with me, Hunny settled into the shack to play with her jewelry, I assumed, and gorge on candy. Simone joined her, shutting the door. Ben, though, couldn’t relax.

  “Here’s a blanket.” Pollard tossed him a roll of gray wool cloth. “The grass will make a decent bed. If you don’t mind the bugs.”

  Ben stared at the blanket for a long time before setting it on the ground and walking off toward the white goalposts with my guitar still strapped to his back.

  “I’m beat,” Pollard said, climbing onto the roof of the van. After a brief hesitation, I joined him.

  “You should get to sleep,” he tried again. “We’re gonna be on the road all day tomorrow.”

  “It’s okay.” I was getting used to exhaustion.

  “I’m just warning you now,” he said, a teasing note entering his voice, “tomorrow you’re driving, and I’m sleeping.”

  I playfully jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow. He winced, and then drew me into the comfortable warmth of his side. My gaze fell upon the pistol beside his opposite thigh.

  “I need it,” he said, catching me staring. “In case we’re ambushed. But I won’t use it unless I need to, okay?”

  “I’m getting better about them,” I admitted. If his friend Russell had his gun on him when we were attacked, he might’ve had a fighting chance against the pack of Reds that killed him. And if it hadn’t been for Pollard’s handgun, that zombie might have killed Ben.

  Pollard shifted, hugging me even tighter. “I look at this place,” he mused, “and I can’t get over how much we’ve lost.” He inhaled a ragged breath. “It’s too much to take in sometimes.”

  “But we have the chance of starting over,” I reminded him. “With the medicine inside Ben, we can make things normal again. Even better than before.”

  “Oh yeah?” He craned his head to see into my face. “Better how? Didn’t you like the world the way it was?”

  “I don’t know.” I’d been happy with my life. Except for losing my mom and then my brother going away, things were okay. I was able to write songs and run track, and I got good grades at school. But I also knew that our world hadn’t been easy for everyone. “If it was up to me, I’d want every survivor we can find to have enough food to eat and a safe place to sleep at night.”

  “Well, of course, Maya.” He chuckled. “It won’t be a free-for-all. Whoever is left has to stick together. How else are we going to rebuild the human civilization?”

  It was difficult to verbalize how much I didn’t want to duplicate our former society. I’d been a rich girl in my town. I hadn’t struggled for much. I wanted everyone to be as lucky as I had been. But that didn’t sound right. And Pollard probably wouldn’t understand, anyway. He was obsessed with fixing the world and keeping everyone safe, so I didn’t think he’d appreciate me saying I didn’t want to reconstruct the old world. Not the way it had been. I wanted to see a brand new world. A different one. A better one.

  The sun set behind the craggy trees ringing the sports field, and the sky turned orange and then purple. When full dark set in, I could hardly see anything. The only visible light shone from the faintly sparkling dome of stars overhead.

  “I love watching the stars,” I said, wiggling around until I lay curled beside Pollard with my cheek on his thigh. “They’re so beautiful.”

  He tilted his head back. “I know. It doesn’t seem real, does it?”

  “They look like diamonds.” I closed my eyes and was sucked under into an uneasy, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Eight

  I woke with the morning sun to Pollard petting my hair.

  “Good morning,” he said. His eyes were shadowed and bloodshot and new whiskers roughened his appearance.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, sitting up and stretching my aching arms. So, I wasn’t immune to exhaustion after all. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

  “I don’t mind. Like I said, both of us don’t need to suffer.”

  I finger-combed my knotty black hair. Time to wrangle Hunny for a good brushing.

  I scanned the area for the little girl. And Ben. I didn’t see either. “Everything go smoothly last night?”

  “Picture perfect,” he said. “We got lucky, I guess.”

  “Was Ben able to sleep?” I still didn’t see him and my stomach clenched. Pollard hadn’t let him leave, had he?

  “He lay down off and on,” Pollard said. “But he spent a lot of time staring at trees.”

  I turned all the way around and found Ben, at last, standing at the tree line. “I’ll go check on him.”

  “Fine. I’m going to lay down for a few minutes.” He groaned as he hopped off the van. “Make sure everyone eats something. When you’re ready, get me up.”

  I agreed and hurried across the overgrown grass field, twisting my hair into a messy knot as I skipped over faded white lines marking yards and an end zone.

  “Morning,” I greeted, keeping my distance. “Did you sleep?”

  He didn’t take his eyes off the trees.

  “Ben?” I tried again. “Are you hungry? I can share a can of corned beef hash with you. Do you like that?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Hearing his voice and knowing he was still alert and cognizant was such a relief I sagged a little.

  “You haven’t eaten in over a day.” I glanced into the dark copse of pines and brush and discerned nothing but fallen needles, brown grass, and tangled vines crawling ancient trees. “Do you want to hunt something fresh?”

  I knew nothing about hunting, but Pollard did. Though the idea of him helping Ben catch a small animal to eat, possibly raw, didn’t seem likely. Pollard had never warmed to Ben, and the elixir hadn’t changed his mind.

  “I can’t smell them anymore,” he muttered.

  “Ben, are you doing okay?” I stepped around him to see more clearly into his face. Sunken bloodshot eyes told me he was as sleep-deprived as Pollard. “You didn’t sleep, did you?”

  “Yesterday I could smell them.” His gaze flickered over me. “I could smell you.”

  “You can’t anymore?” That sounded like a good thing. “Your senses are returning to normal. Maybe the fever heightened them temporarily.”

  “I feel better,” he admitted. “I’m better.”

  “You mean you don’t notice my stink so much anymore?” I tease
d.

  He didn’t crack a smile. “Smell was intense. And sounds.”

  “Did your eyes hurt, too?”

  “A little.”

  “Food?”

  He shook his head, shaggy black hair falling into his eyes. “I couldn’t eat.” He focused the full intensity of his attention, anxiety and all, on me. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” He hadn’t done anything requiring an apology. In fact, I should have been apologizing for getting him into this mess. He wasn’t supposed to inject my dad’s cure for the red virus. I’d planned to collect the vial and deliver it to a specialist for study and replication. I’d never intended to analyze it inside a living person.

  “I scared you.”

  A nervous laugh bubbled up my throat. Yes, he certainly had. From my first sight of him standing all alone in a deserted field. “A little, maybe, but I’m fine.”

  “Your scent was so…”

  I feared his next words. Revolting? Nauseating?

  “Delicious,” he finished. “I couldn’t stop.”

  “But you did.” I laid my palm on his forearm, but thought better of it after only a few seconds, remembering his earlier warning. I snatched my hand away. His sense of touch might be equally haywire and the feel of my skin could set him off.

  “Sorry.”

  He stared at the spot I had touched with his brows drawn as if he couldn’t believe it. “You took care of me when I was sick.”

  “You took care of me, of us, too. You protected Hunny and me.”

  He shook his head to deny it.

  I rushed on. “When Hunny and I were hiding under a car from a pack of Reds, you took them out. And those Reds in my dad’s lab? You fought them so they wouldn’t hurt us.”

  “It’s hard to remember—” he swallowed, “—why. Maybe I wanted to hurt you afterwards.”

  “I don’t believe that. If you were just hungry, you could’ve attacked Hunny or me lots of times. But you never did.”

  “I almost did yesterday.”

  My mind flashed back to his body pressing mine into the freezer door. And then the look on his face when he’d pinned Pollard. But I didn’t admit how much he had scared me.