Aiden plants a little kiss on my forehead. “It’s okay. We’re in this together.”
We’ve walked a good distance into the tunnel, with the entrance now a tiny pinprick of light. A slight breeze brushes against my skin, but it carries the smell of decay and rot.
Goosebumps cover my whole body. “Oh god, I hope that’s not what I think it is.”
A few more steps, and I get my answer. Aiden shines the light over a group of decaying bodies. They’re around a burned-out campfire. Old, tattered sleeping bags lie about. A rush of panic hits me. I back up to the tunnel’s edge, and my legs give way as I land hard on the ground.
Aiden runs over to me. “Are you okay?”
I’m not sure I am. It’s the same paralyzing fear I had when I saw my uncle staggering up the driveway. The same one that didn’t let me leave the house until I was nearly out of food.
But unlike before, Aiden is here. He puts his arms around me and rubs a hand on my back. “It’s gonna be okay, Zach.”
I’m shivering and can barely talk. “I—what—if they’re Infected?”
“They’ve been gone a long time. They can’t hurt you now. Plus, you’re immune, remember?”
The first part may be true. They may not be capable of hurting me. As for being immune, I don’t know. I consider telling Aiden about my uncle, that I couldn’t even help him as he lay dying on the porch, begging to be let in. But what will he think of me? The thought of Aiden being disgusted by my cowardice and cruelty is unbearable.
Aiden must sense that I’m unsettled. He reaches into the pack and grabs a medical mask. “Here, let’s put this on you.”
The mask covers my nose and mouth, and Aiden helps me secure the straps.
“Wanna try getting up?” His tenderness and patience fill me with resolve. I want to be strong for him. He helps me to my feet, and even with his guidance, I wobble a little, but he’s there to steady me.
He takes my hand and whispers in my ear, “Close your eyes. I’ll guide you through.”
With my eyes clamped shut, I let him steer me, putting all my trust in him. The tug of his hand pulls me forward as he gives the occasional adjustment in direction or warning about a stray rock. The smell gets more intense. Almost unbearable. I hold back heaving in my throat.
Aiden whispers in my ear again. “Zach. I’m going to pick you up. Okay?”
“For real? Can you lift me?”
“Yeah, I got you.”
Aiden puts an arm around my back and another behind my knees and sweeps me up. I was ten years old the last time someone carried me like this. I sprained my ankle on a hiking trip, and my dad carried me five miles through the forest. It’s comforting, feeling Aiden’s breathing and his heartbeat as I nuzzle my head into his chest. I clutch onto him tightly.
“It’s gonna get a little hairy here. Keep those eyes closed,” Aiden whispers.
He doesn’t have to tell me. My eyes are shut tight. Aiden does some serious jumps but clutches me tight through it all. The smell is worse than ever. I can’t imagine what Aiden is witnessing.
In a few minutes, things improve. And soon, the musty scent of the tunnel replaces the stench of rot.
“Okay, Zach, I’m gonna set you down now. You can open your eyes.”
I open them to see the tunnel exit just ahead. We’ve made it to the other side. Aiden gently lowers me to the ground.
“Thanks.” My eyes are downcast, avoiding his gaze. “Sorry I was such a wimp back there.”
“It’s okay. It can be hard sometimes.” His caring and genuine expression eases my anxiety. There’s no judgment or condescension. Aiden is a good person. He’s not perfect, but neither am I. And while a shadow of hurt for his leaving remains, at this moment, I know I can find some way to forgive him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Mending
AIDEN
As we leave the tunnel, I shudder at what we just went through. I don’t want Zach to know how bad it was. The first bodies we encountered were lying haphazardly around a fire. But the deeper we got into the tunnel, the more it was clear we had stumbled into a mass grave. Bodies were piled on top of each other ten high. At times, the path through the carnage was so narrow I had to turn to avoid us touching them. The worst moment was when I saw a body moving under a pile of dead, trying to reach out and grab me. I had to jump to avoid it. I shake off the thought as best as I can. But some things can leave a permanent mark on your memory. And I worry this is one of those things.
