Broad and strong, tall yet thick, and without a piece of hair anywhere to distract me from his gorgeous pecs and taperedwaist… fuck. He looks even better, and when our eyes meet, I know I’m blushing now.
He catches me staring. Worse, I don’t know what he saw written on my face, but on his, I see… hope.
Damn it.
Something’s changed. We both can sense it, and whether or not Chase sees his recovery as a new lease on life, he doesn’t bother letting me pretend that I don’t sense the connection between us. He just takes his time in pulling the fresh tee over his head before running his fingers through his damp hair, then coming over to where I’m sitting next to the food I set out for him.
He crouches down. “Hey.”
Nope. Not going to have this conversation. Not yet, at least. “Here. You haven’t eaten in almost two days. Take this. I have some more food in my pack if you want it.”
“I’m not really hungry. Not yet.”
I know what he’s doing. Lurkers are forever starving. By telling me he’s not hungry—though I’m sure he has to be—he’s just reassuring me that there are no lingering side effects.
I shove the bar at him. It’s chocolate and peanut butter, his favorite. “Do it for me. Eat.”
Oh, I’m a manipulative bitch now, too. Chase doesn’t even hesitate. He rips open the wrapper, then takes a small, dainty-ish bite. I roll my eyes and he laughs. In less than a minute, the entire bar is devoured.
I knew he was hungry.
Once he’s done, he takes a deep breath. “So… I messed up, Holden. Fucked up big time. One of those bastards got me.”
I knew he would blame himself. “No one’s perfect. And you got it in the end, didn’t you?”
A shrug like battling a lurker and killing it after it had the taste of your blood is no big deal before he says with a hint of awe: “You gave your antidote to me.”
I can feel the heat of Maverick’s gaze on the side of my face as I speak to Chase. “Hey. Let’s call us even, okay? You gave up your antidote for me back in East Jersey.“
“I had to. And, I’ll tell you what… I’d do it again, baby.”
Same, Chase, same.
New York City.
Travel was slow-going the last few days. We already knew that there would be a much heavier lurker presence the closer we got to the nest, but I don’t think we realized what that really meant.
We blew past fifty the night before, and none of us got any sleep once we made it to the New Jersey side of the George Washington Bridge. It was dark out, and though the mile-and-a-half long suspension bridge was clear enough that we could see lurkers approaching from either side, we were basically sitting ducks. Each one of us carried a handmade torch, choosing to continue the march.
On the plus side, we’re faster than lurkers. The bridge wasn’t wide enough for them to overwhelm us, especially since the portable fire had them hesitate long enough for us to engage the stare. By the time we fought our way across, there were forty more piles of ash to be blown away into the Hudson River, and we landed in the Washington Heights area of New York.
It’s been close to a week since Chase was attacked. You’d never know he was bit at all, though I do notice he’s part of the reason why it took so long for us to go from Skyway Parkto Fort Lee where we reached the GWB. After his recovery, I told him about Maverick’s plan. I needed to give him the choice to still come along; knowing Mav’s true motivations behind this hunt, Chase needed to decide if that’s what he wanted to do. I should’ve known better than to doubt him. Of course he’s going—as long as I’m going, that is—though his determination to get to New York so we can finally start the return trip to the Grave has wavered some.
I could tell that Maverick was disappointed that I laid out all of his cards for Chase. Too bad. He should just be lucky that, for now at least, I decided to keep the fact that he took the Injection to myself.
If his eyes get any worse, or he pales more notably, or gets even hungrier… I’ll have to tell Chase. Until then, I don’t want to worry him.
And if I tell myself that instead of admitting it’s because I know he’ll drag me off this crazy mission the instant I give me a reason to, well… I’ve come all this way. Maverick might be targeting the science lab responsible for creating the lurkers.
Me? My intentions have always been clear. I’m going to kill as many lurkers as I can or die trying.
Washington Heights is a good hundred blocks from the NRI. In the before times, that might’ve given me a pause. Why walk when there are taxis, rideshares, and public transportation like buses and subways? Now? After we’ve walked a million miles just to get to this point, I laugh. A hundred blocks? I can do that in about an hour-and-a-half so long as the roads aren’t too damaged.
To my surprise, they’re not that bad. It still stings to see the dried blood and char marks everywhere, the bones, the empty cars, and torn asphalt, but there are stretches in front of us that are almost… normal. It’s spooky as hell because New York City isn’t made to be vacant, and it seems like one big graveyard, butwith Maverick carrying his primed IEDs in that duffel bag, I’m looking forward to the coming explosions.
Too bad we never get the chance to take them out of the bag.
It’s late morning. We should have hadhoursto engage the bombs, place them where Maverick wants, then stand back and watch the NRI implode.
