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.I have a bitter and jaded feeling that Dean and Anne knew that would happen, but despite being pissed off I don’t say anything—none of us do.We get out and start to walk.There’s a saying, ‘no point crying over spilled milk,’ and it’s true.There’s no point in complaining; it is what it is.I’ll be sure to give the little shit a piece of my mind if we ever make it back this way.I look up ahead at Emily and Alek as they walk hand in hand.I’m still not comfortable with their relationship, but what can I say? He’s only a year or so older than her, he protects her, cares for her—clearly he has deep feelings for her.How can I tell them that it’s wrong? How can it possibly be wrong? If anything happens to me and Mikey, at least she has Alek to look after her.I reach out and slip my hand into Mikey’s.He looks across and offers me a small smile.He’s still lost within his own horrors; the memories of what he’s done—who he’s harmed—are still fresh on his face, like war wounds.I want to tell him that it will be okay—that he’ll sleep peacefully soon and won’t see the tortured faces of his victims—but I can’t.That’s more than likely a lie: those faces would haunt me forever, so I’m sure they’ll do the same to him.Goddamn Fallon and his backwards thinking.I push it from my mind as we walk.For the first time in days, the sun is shining.The snow is thick in places, and it’s still freezing as hell, but the view is clear: no wind, no rain, and no snow.If we keep at this pace, we could be at the barracks in a couple of hours.This is probably the calm before the storm.Literally.Winter is very clearly here, and things are only going to get worse.God knows what we’ll find when we get there.I can only hope that it hasn’t already been raided; otherwise this whole journey is for nothing.We could have stayed in Dean’s little town, settled in for the winter.There was food, it was warm, it was a real house—a home that we could have survived in.For as far back as I can remember, all I’ve wanted was a home again.Unfortunately, my immediate future doesn’t have one in it.I’m a roamer, wandering from place to place, town to town, trying to survive.Hell, half the world is doing the same thing now, but no place is safe.And isn’t that the point of killing Fallon and the rest of his stupid gang? To make what’s left of the world a safer place for other survivors? Or am I just grasping onto vengeance for my own personal means, intent on killing him and destroying his bastard army for no other reason than it might stop some of the burning pain that courses through me, that it might help Mikey sleep better? Fallon is a weed; he’s strangling the life and soul out of people because of his own agenda.Maybe I’m as bad as him.Maybe this is all pointless.Because after all, you kill one weed and two more show up in its place.Chapter 16The landscape passes me by in a blur of white and green.The trees and plants are getting ready for winter—dying back, leaves falling, shriveling under the blanket of snow—but their beauty is still all around us.Mother Nature did a good job of the world while mankind either died or hid.She adapted and survived, blossomed into something more amazing than anyone would have thought possible.She may be teeming with flesh-hungry rotting corpses and vengeance-riddled humans, but she has things right, she knows what she’s doing.She’s thriving in this dead world.Spring used to be my favorite season.It registered as a fresh start—a new beginning.Life bloomed up all around you: lambs, chicks, calves, shoots finally poking their way through the snow, reaching for the sun to help the world awaken into beauty.As I look around, I wonder whether after this winter things will be that way again.Can things ever be that way again? No animals will be born—the deaders will eat them even if they are—but flowers, yes, they continue to thrive and blossom year upon year, each time growing stronger and stronger until maybe there will be nothing left of mankind.We will be a memory, with only the ruins of a society—of a world left behind.“Can we stop?” Emily says, but I barely register her words.Mikey pulls on my hand and I look up wearily.“You okay?” I say to her.“I could do with a five minute break.This bag is really heavy.” She slouches to the ground, sliding her backpack off as she does.Dean let us take some of the town’s food and essentials—not that there was much left.It’s been two years, getting close to three now, and their supplies are dwindling.They have enough to get them by for a few months, so the fact that they supplied us with things is generous [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]