Snarling, the rest of the pack turned and fled, bounding back into the forest or burying themselves into the earth. In a few seconds, the whole pack had disappeared, and the night was still except for the rain.
I tensed as a human leaped from the top of the truck and stalked toward us. He was big and muscular, dressed in a uniform of black and green, and held a very, very large gun in both hands.
“We saw your lights down the road,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Sorry we couldn’t get here sooner. Is anyone hurt?”
Dazed, I stared at him. Other soldiers were springing down from the vehicle now, wrapping the group in blankets, leading them back to the truck. One of them picked Bethany up after throwing a blanket around her, and another helped Teresa hobble over the pavement. The lead soldier watched them a moment, then turned back to me.
“Is this everyone?” he asked briskly. “Once we leave, we’re not coming back if we can help it. Is this your whole party?”
“No!” I gasped and whirled around, scanning the road behind us. “No, there’s one more. We left him by the van—he could still be alive.”
I started forward, but he grabbed my arm.
“He’s dead, girl.” The soldier’s eyes were sympathetic, as I turned on him furiously. “If he fell behind with the rabids, he’s dead. I’m sorry. But we should get those who are alive to Eden.”
“I’m not leaving him,” I snarled, yanking my arm out of his grip. My throat burned with anger at the unfairness of it all. That Zeke could come so far, get this close, only to fall at the end. I thought of the data he was carrying, the precious information that could save the human race, and backed away from the soldier. “You don’t know him—he could still be alive. If he’s dead—” I clenched my fists, my voice breaking a little. “I still have to know. But I’m not leaving him behind. We’ve come too far for that.”
“I know it’s hard—” the soldier began but was interrupted.
“Sarge?” One of the soldiers peered down from the truck. “Sergeant Keller, I think you’d better see this.”
I whirled around. A lone figure was walking steadily down the road toward us, one hand holding his shoulder, the other gripping a machete at his side. He was covered in blood, clothes torn, and every step looked painful, but he was alive.
Relief shot through me. Breaking away from Keller, I ran to him, catching him just as he staggered, dropping his weapon to the pavement. He was shaking, his skin cold, and he reeked of blood, both his own and the rabids’. I felt his heartbeat, thumping frantically in his chest, the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. One arm snaked around me, holding us together, and he rested his forehead against mine.
“Zeke,” I whispered, feeling his shaky breath on my skin, the tension lining his back and shoulders. He said nothing, only held me tighter, but I pulled back a little to glare at him. “Dammit, don’t you ever do that to me again.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice reedy with pain. “But…the others? Is everyone okay?” I framed his face with both hands, wanting to laugh and cry and slap him all at once.
“Everyone is fine,” I told him, and felt him relax. “We made it, Zeke. Eden is right around the corner.”
He blew out a ragged breath, and sagged against me. “Thank you,” he whispered, just as the soldiers swarmed around us. We were safe now. I released him and stepped back, letting the humans throw a blanket around his shoulders, shine a flashlight over his wounds and ask him a ton of questions.
“They’re just scratches,” I heard Zeke say, as Sergeant Keller peered down at him, frowning. “I’m not bitten.”
“Get him on the truck,” Keller ordered, waving his arm. “They can check him out once we’re behind the wall. Let’s move, people.”
Moments later, I sat beside Zeke in back of the monstrous truck, both of us wrapped in blankets, his hand clutched tightly in mine. Surrounded by so many humans, the Hunger stirred restlessly as the scratches beneath my coat slowly healed, but I ignored it. Caleb and Bethany clung to the adults they knew, eyeing the soldiers warily, but the rest of them were dazed with relief. As the rain slowly let up, I peered over the top of the truck and saw it approaching a pair of enormous iron gates at the end of the road. A fence stretched out on either side of it, reminding me of the Wall in New Covington, dark and massive and bristling with razor wire on top. The white beam of a spotlight spun slowly around just inside one corner of the wall, piercing the sky.
There were shouts from inside the fence, and the massive gates slowly swung open, allowing the truck to pass through. More armed, uniformed humans lined the path beyond the gate, jogging after the truck as it cruised into a tiny compound with muddy roads and a few long cement buildings in the distance. Watchtowers rose along the wall every hundred feet or so, and the humans here seemed to be all military.