The compact car wasn’t made for demolition, but I was counting on its gas mileage. It showed a near-empty tank of gas (who the fuck drives on an empty tank?), but being a Prius, the computer indicated it had plenty to get me back to the farm. I sped straight back through town the way we’d come this morning, and nearly ran into a Humvee at the second detour. It was full of people, including the couple I’d seen this morning.
The blond guy manning the .30 cal machine gun on top waved me down. He might’ve been a soldier, or he might’ve been friends with the bastard raiders from earlier. I stepped on the gas, and the tires actually squealed as I sped away.
The Humvee followed for several blocks before slowing and breaking away. I checked the rearview mirror all the way back to the farm to make sure I wasn’t followed. When I reached the lane, I found the gate closed but unlocked, and I frowned.
This wasn’t like Clutch. He never made mistakes like this.
I didn’t have the strength, but somehow I managed to slide the gate open and then closed and locked it. As I drove down the lane, I scanned the trees for raiders and zeds, but my eyes could barely focus. My body was way past its limits. I prayed that the farm was still safe because I wasn’t sure I could defend it.
When I pulled into view of the house, I cried out with relief. Clutch stood at the truck, holding two rifles and a shitload of ammo. He set everything down. “Cash!” he yelled, jogging toward me.
I got out of the Prius, and stumbled to my knees. Adrenaline had abandoned me, leaving me utterly without strength. But then Clutch was there, picking me up.
“You’re safe now,” he murmured as he carried me into the house.
Sighing, I rested my head against his chest and listened to his steady breathing. I laid my hand over his pounding heart. It felt good to feel something alive again. I’d killed children today. Even though they were zeds, they still wore the guise of innocence. And still, I found killing was easy.
It’s the living with yourself afterward that’s tough.
GREED
The Fourth Circle of Hell
Chapter VII
Exhaustion claimed me, and I sank deeper into Clutch’s safe arms.
Saying nothing, he carried me into the house and rather than bringing me to the sofa where I’d slept since Jase came to live here, he carried me upstairs.
“Cash! We were so freaking worried!” Jase yelled out through the open door of his bedroom.
Without pausing at Jase’s room, Clutch carried me straight into his bedroom. I barely stayed awake while he helped me out of my sweat-and dust-drenched layers, leaving me in only my sports bra and underwear.
He left, returning moments later with wet washcloths. He ran the cloths gently over my skin, likely checking me for bites and injuries more than cleaning me, but I didn’t care. His touch felt good.
Finished, he helped me crawl under the blankets of his king-sized bed, and tucked them around me. I groaned at the protective comfort of the blankets and pulled them tighter to me. “So good to be home.”
Clutch grunted before disappearing again, and the next thing I knew he was nudging me awake. I grumbled as he lifted my head up and held a glass of water to my lips. My hands wrapped around his fingers on the glass while I clumsily slurped at the contents. The cool water drenched the dust and debris lodged in my raw throat and I coughed. Once I could breathe again, I gulped down the rest. He wiped water from my chin before he lowered my head back to the pillow and stepped away.
At the door he paused. “I never should’ve left you behind,” he said, his voice a rough whisper.
I shook my head. “I made you go.”
“No. You didn’t.” Then he walked away, closing the door behind him, leaving behind only silence.
“Clutch,” I called out with a cough, but he never returned. At first I fought to stay awake so I could talk some sense into him, but all too quickly I surrendered to a dreamless sleep.