I looked at him, at his pale, earnest face, at his blue eyes, quietly pleading, and felt my resolve crumble. Kanin needed me, but…Zeke needed me, too. I wanted to stay with him, despite knowing that this—whatever we had—would only end in tragedy. I was a vampire, and he was still very much human. Whatever my feelings, I couldn’t separate them from the Hunger. Being around Zeke put him in danger, and yet, I was willing to risk it, even his life, just to be close to him.
And that—that dependency—scared me more than anything I’d ever faced. Allie the Fringer knew all too well: the closer you got to someone, the more it would destroy you when they were inevitably gone.
But we’d come so far; it didn’t feel right, not seeing this through to the end. “All right,” I murmured, hoping Kanin could hang on a little longer. I’ll be there soon, Kanin, I swear. “To Eden, then. Let’s finish what we started.”
Zeke smiled, and I returned it. Together, we walked up the beach, to where the group waited for us in the shadow of the building.
*
SEVEN PEOPLE HUDDLED in the back of the van, silent, terrified. Two young adults, two older people and three kids, one who kept coughing and sniffling into his sleeve. Zeke drove, and I sat next to him in the passenger’s seat, gazing out the window. Nobody spoke much. I offered to switch seats once, to let someone else sit up front, but was met with horrified silence. Nobody wanted the vampire in the back with them. So Zeke and I remained up front, the weight of words unsaid lingering between us.
We drove east along the seemingly endless lake, following the road and Jackal’s map, keeping a wary eye on the city fading behind us. I kept glancing at the side mirrors, waiting for headlights to break over the road and come swarming toward us. It didn’t happen. The road remained dark and empty, the landscape silent except for the hiss of falling waves, as if we were the only people alive.
“We’re getting low on fuel,” Zeke muttered after several hours of driving. He tapped the dashboard of the van, frowning, then sighed. “How far from Eden do you think we are?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, gazing at the map again. “All I know is we have to follow the road east until we get there.”
“God, I hope it’s really there,” Zeke whispered, gripping the steering wheel, his eyes hard. “Please, please, let it be there. This time, let it be real.”
We drove through another dead city on the edge of a lake, passing crumbling skyscrapers, the ruins of old buildings and an endless number of cars clogging the cracked streets. Weaving through a choked sea of rusting vehicles, I wondered how chaotic it would’ve been in the time before, how people ever got anywhere without crashing into each other.
Zeke suddenly pulled the van to a stop alongside a faded red truck and shut off the engine. I blinked at him. “Why are we stopping?”
“We’re almost out of gas. There’s a hose and a gas container in the back—I saw them when we hijacked the van. I figure I can siphon something from a few cars, at least. Watch my back?”
I nodded. Zeke half turned, poking his head toward the back as the other passengers stirred and muttered uneasily. “Everyone, stay put. We’re just stopping for fuel. We’ll be on our way soon, okay?”
“I’m hungry,” muttered Caleb, sniffling. Zeke smiled at him.
“We’ll take a break soon, I promise. Let’s just get out of the city first.”
I watched Zeke, fascinated, as he opened a lid on the side of a vehicle, stuck the hose in, and sucked on the end. The first two cars yielded nothing, but on the third try, Zeke suddenly choked, turned and spit out a mouthful of clear liquid, before sticking the hose into the plastic container. Wiping his mouth, he leaned against another car and watched the gas trickle into the canister.
I walked up beside him and leaned back against the car door, our shoulders barely touching. “How’re you holding up?”
He shrugged. “All right, I guess.” He sighed, rubbing his arm. “It still hasn’t hit me yet, you know? I keep expecting Jeb to give me directions, tell me where we’re going next, when we should stop.” He sighed again, heavily, looking out toward the city. “But he’s gone. And it’s all up to me now.”
I hesitated, then reached down and took his hand, lightly weaving our fingers together. He squeezed them gratefully.
“Thank you,” he murmured, so soft I barely caught it. “I wouldn’t…be doing nearly so well if you weren’t here.”
“We’re almost there,” I told him. “Just a few more miles, I think. And you can relax. No more vampires, no more rabids, no more raider kings hunting you down. You’ll finally be able to breathe.”
“If Eden really exists.” He sounded so melancholy I turned to stare at him.
“What’s this?” I asked, giving him a challenging smile. “Don’t tell me you’re losing your faith, Ezekiel Crosse.”
His mouth twitched into a smirk. “You’re right,” he said, pushing himself off the car. “We can’t give up now. Let’s get there first, and see what happens next.” He bent down and picked up the container, peering at the contents. “That’s…what, about three gallons? Two and a half? Think we can get a few more before we leave?”