Infection Runs Deep

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: SCUTTLEBUTT

A large group stood at the end of the main gate driveway, watching the blue minivan scurry off into the distance. Mutters echoed through the group.

"Good riddance--"

"What a bitch--"

"She would never leave--"

"--happened to make her go--"

"Must have skeletons in the closet--"

No one knew the truth. No one but our little group of four. Lindsay, Ian, little Alex, and I. Stuck in a twisted bond of truths and lies, bound together by misfortune.

We stood there, a unified bond of misfits in a place where we did not belong. All we did was wreak havoc on this camp, overthrow their ruler, and leave bodies behind. What more was there left for us to do?

Discontent was evident in the crowd's eyes. I knew what they were thinking: How could she just leave?

While I understood her motives, it was wrong to do. She wasn't built for leadership, but she left behind a vulnerable group of people that relied on her. It was cruel, a sort of vicious twist of fate that only benefited her. Not that it was a guarantee for her. She could still face many misfortunes on her way to wherever she fled.

My new sidekick clutched my hand tightly. It was impractical in case of a fight, but it was comforting to have someone there. Alex had taken a quick liking to me. I didn't know what that meant in terms of our new relationship. Certainly I found myself with a responsibility to take care of her now, at least temporarily.

But now that Sarah was gone, I had no obligation to stay. I had no ties to the people; I hadn't even met more than a few.

My only reservation was Oilver. How could I leave him in a shambled survivor group? It wasn't him that I cared about so much as Elizabeth.

A deep, dark part of me said to just leave him. Good riddance. Would she ever forgive me if I left him for dead? Forgive myself?

I surveyed the community. No more than twenty-five people, I'd wager. A base plan formulated in my mind. If every household had a car, we could get back to Fort Bishop. Gas would be a problem, but we could siphon it from the remaining cars given that they had something left in their tanks.

The Colonel always bitched about people and resources. If we brought the majority of supplies here, it may make up for the amount of people.

Not that I really wanted to return. The Colonel had sent assassins after us. At least to our knowledge. Sure, we'd had some problems in the past, but I just couldn't see him doing that to us. He had trained Warner and I since we'd been back from our last deployment. He hadn't really gone off the rails until all this shit started.

The apocalypse hit people in different ways. Most of us were trying to live, the select few thrive, and those remaining... Well, their basest instinct, it comes out with a fierce alacrity for whatever it takes to survive.

So badly, I wanted to fault him for it. To blame him for everything. But I just couldn't. I understood. I would do anything to protect the ones that I loved. Even kill. How could I blame him for doing the same?

"Lindsay," I said, my voice lowered. I didn't want to attract too much attention since prying ears could ruin this idea. After all, it was just an idea.

"That's a scheming face, isn't it." She sighed in relief, running a hand through her red locks. "You've got a plan."

"Some semblance of one, at least." I fought for the words to articulate it. There were so many variables and problems that I couldn't hope to address.