Hollowland (25 page)

Tatum straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his shirt tightening on his biceps. By his stern expression, I knew he didn’t believe me, but I didn’t know what he made of it. He stared at me for a moment, and I swallowed hard. I knew that if I wanted to see my brother, I had to have Tatum on my side.

“Is he infected?” Tatum asked finally.

“No,” I shook my head but didn’t say more.

“You better not lie to me about this,” he warned me. Even though he was probably only a year or so older than me, he was tall, broad, and rather imposing. “I don’t want any of these people in here getting sick because of some kid.”

“No, he’s not… he can’t get anybody sick,” I said as carefully as I could. “I’m just trying to protect him, and I can’t do that if I can’t even see him.”

“I can look into it more.”

“Look into it more?” I scoffed. “I made it all the way here, and you’re gonna try to look into it? I’ve gone all the way across the country, rescued a lion, escaped a cult, killed marauders, and fought dozens of zombies with my bare fricking hands! And you’re gonna look into it?”

Immediately after saying it, I felt guilty for sounding so ungrateful. It wasn’t that I didn’t value all Tatum’s help, both as a solider and searching for Max. It just was so frustrating to know that I was so close, and still so far away.

Tatum smiled at my outburst, and maybe that was a good thing.

“I like a girl who’s not afraid to punch a zombie,” he smirked. I cocked my head at him, unsure of what he was getting at, and that just made him smile more. “Calm down.” He leaned in closer to me, his voice barely above a whisper. “I will get you to see your brother. Just give me time.”

“Okay,” I said, a little taken back by his assurance.

“Now, if it’s okay with you, I’m gonna go eat my lunch.” Tatum raised an eyebrow at me, as if really checking for my approval about eating, so I smiled sheepishly and nodded at him.

He backed away, going into the tent, but I stood outside, my mind racing. I looked up at the concrete building looming behind the mess hall.

Knowing that Max was in there was the most maddening thing in the world. He was so close, but he was locked up too tightly for me to see him. I wasn’t even supposed to know he was alive.

Lazlo and Harlow hurried out a minute later to find out what happened with Tatum, but I was vague on the details since I didn’t want to get him in trouble. Max was alive, and really, that was all that mattered. I felt a small weight lift off my shoulders, but not completely. I still had to figure out how to see him and what to do if I didn’t like what I saw.

When we got back to the trailer, Harlow found a deck of cards in one of the kitchen drawers, and Lazlo insisted on teaching us how to play poker. Eager to learn, Harlow sat at the table across from him.

I would’ve done just fine without ever knowing the difference between a full house and a royal flush, but I had nothing better to do. Until Tatum came back with more information, I had time to kill.

Harlow eventually grew bored with the game and went to the smaller bedroom to try on her clothes and take measurements. The next day she had plans to meet with Bishop and start at the little sweat shop they had here.

Lazlo shuffled the cards with unnecessary flair, and I leaned back on the couch, my feet propped on the cushions.

“This feels so weird,” I said.

“What does?” Lazlo asked.

“Just relaxing, hanging out. In a home-like area. We have curtains and carpet and electricity. And cards.” I looked around and exhaled. “It’s just so… unnatural.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he laughed. “But it’s kinda nice, though, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “It’d be nicer if Max were here. Then I could feel like I could really relax.”

“You’ll see him soon. I mean, he’s right here. It can’t be that hard to see him.”

“You would think so,” I sighed, picking at a spot on my shirt.

“Until then, we have this really nice place.” His voice changed, taking on an exaggerated nonchalance, so I looked up at him. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, staring intently at the deck cards, and his smile looked forced. “A nice little home, with… a nice bedroom in back.”

“Oh.” I rolled my eyes. That’s what he was getting at.

“I’m just saying that there are two bedrooms, and that master bed is pretty big,” Lazlo continued, peeking up at me to see how I was responding. “It’s plenty big for two people.”

“It’s not that big.”

“It’s not the biggest
ever
, but…” He trailed off and sighed heavily. Looking up at me, his dark eyes were a mixture of wounded and confused. “What’s so bad about sleeping with me?” The instant he said it, his expression faltered. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… you know. Same bed. Sleeping, with actual sleeping.”

“I know what you meant.” I picked up a Joker that had slipped out of the deck of cards and twirled it around the table. I needed to occupy myself with something.
 

With a sudden flourish, he splayed the cards out on the table. He flipped them all face down, and then sliding his hand across, he flipped them all face up. He had a showman’s hand, and he smiled at me, sad and hopeful all at once.

“I’m laying all my cards on the table,” Lazlo grinned at his own bad joke, and I returned it uneasily. “I like you.” He paused, and when I didn’t say anything, he went on. “Kind of a lot, actually.”

My pulse quickened in the way only he seemed to be able to make it, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. Everything inside me froze up and stopped. Too much had happened for me to ever consider really liking someone again or having a normal life.

These things just weren’t possible anymore, and I wanted to explain that to him, to make him see that this didn’t have anything to do with how I felt about him. We
couldn’t
happen.

Instead of saying any of that, I fought to keep my breathing even and looked down at the table.

“Remy, what’s going on with us?” Lazlo asked quietly when I didn’t say anything.

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Depends on what the answer is,” he admitted.

So I didn’t answer. I turned my head to look out the window behind the couch. The curtain obstructed most of my view, so I lifted it a bit. The sun had started setting, and the sky above the trailers glowed pink and purple above us. Lazlo took this as my response, and he sighed.

“I guess I’ll take the couch tonight,” he muttered, getting up.

“No, you don’t have to do that,” I shook my head. “I can take the couch.”

“I can take the flipping couch.” He grabbed the deck of cards off the table and threw them in a kitchen drawer, slamming it shut.

“No, I’m the one having an issue.” I slid off the couch and stood up, trying to calm him down. “I should be the one to sleep on the couch.”

“You don’t always have to do that!” Lazlo snapped at me.

“Do what?”

“That!” He gestured to the couch as if it’d mean something to me. “You don’t always have to be the tough guy, okay? I am the guy, here. I can be a gentleman sometimes.”

“This isn’t about being tough or chivalrous or whatever the hell it is you’re having a problem with.” I pulled a strand of hair that had come loose from my bun. “I’m just trying to be…” I trailed off, not even sure what I was doing.

“Strong,” Lazlo finished for me. “You’re always trying to be strong and isolated. And I get it. You can kick my ass, hands down. But we’re here now!” He spread his arms wide, referring to the trailer and quarantine as a whole. “Can’t you just let your guard down for a minute?”

 
I squirmed and looked away.

“Just because I offer to sleep somewhere-”

He moved towards me, his mouth covering mine before I could finish. One of his hands went to the soft skin of my side, and when I started kissing him back, he squeezed slightly, sending warming tingles through me. His other hand was on my cheek, cradling it. My back pressed against the counter behind me, and he leaned into me, pushing me against it.

I loved how desperately he kissed me. Nobody had ever kissed me like that before, like he couldn’t breathe without me. Butterflies swirled through me, and my heart hammered so hard in my chest, I was sure he could feel it. I felt weak all over, but I didn’t hate it.

When he stopped kissing me, we were both panting, and he looked intently at me. His eyes had gone dark with passion. He pushed the hair from my face, and I was surprised to find that I had knotted my hand in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him tightly to me.

“Are you okay?” Lazlo’s expression changed from heat to concern.

“I…” I could barely catch my breath, and as much as I wanted to kiss him again, I was too scared to. “I need to take a walk.”

“Oh.” Hurt flashed across his face, but he hurried to erase it and mask it with false indifference. He took a step back, so I could move. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Sorry, I just…”
 
I ran a hand through my hair and wouldn’t look at him as I slid by. “I need to get some air.”

“No, I understand,” he lied.

I pushed out the front door before I could say anything else awkward and stupid. With night falling, it had gotten significantly colder, especially after spending so many days in the desert heat.

Bright white street lights allowed me to see as I walked on the winding trails through the trailers. Wrapping my arms tightly around me, I
mis
-stepped several times, but eventually, I found my way to Ripley’s cage.

Linking my fingers through the chain link, she came over and nuzzled at them again. I wanted to sob and throw up, so I just wrapped my arm tighter around my stomach, holding it in.

I didn’t understand how I could handle myself so well in a zombie fight but not at all in real life. It used to be the exact opposite. I had forgotten who I used to be entirely.

Ripley tired of rubbing against the cage and went in the corner to take a nap. I had gotten myself under control, but I wasn’t ready to go back yet. I wandered around the quarantine, avoiding other people as much as possible, and tried to focus on what really mattered: seeing Max.

My options were counting on Tatum’s ability to pull strings and get me a sanctioned visit or breaking in.

I made my way over to the building. It looked like a giant fortress. No windows on the first floor, and the windows on the second had bars over them, guaranteeing that no zombies could break in. Or no one could break out. The walls were smooth concrete, without any divots or cracks, making it impossible to scale.

The only ways in or out were through two sets of massive steel doors, protected by a punch code and two armed guards. This quarantine had been so well thought out, I would’ve been impressed if I hadn’t been trying to break in.

I stood near the doors, chewing my lip and trying to think, when two men in blue scrubs walked up. They said something to the guards, punched a number in the keypad, and went inside. I didn’t recognize either of them, but an idea dawned on me.

“Um, hi,” I walked up to the guards, and they both barely looked at me. “I’m not feeling well, and I need to see a doctor.”

“Talk to Bishop, and she’ll set something up for you,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on some target above my head.

“No, um, I know the doctor.” I shifted my weight. “He’s a friend, and he checked me out today, and he said if I have any problems, to come back and see him. And I’m having problems.” The solider looked at me skeptically. “Doctor’s orders.”

“What’s his name?” he sighed.

“Blue Adams,” I smiled gratefully at him.

He clicked on the black radio attached to his uniform and said Blue was needed at the front entrance. A static voice replied that they’d send him down in a minute. I took a deep breath and waited. I had taken to pacing, but finally, Blue came out the front doors.

“Is everything alright?” Blue looked worried when he walked over to me.

“Yeah, yeah.” I started walking away from the guards and motioned for him to do the same. I didn’t think they liked me, and I didn’t want them overhearing what I had to say.

“Is it something with your hip?” Blue asked.

“No, my hip is fine.” I waved it away. Once we were far enough, hidden in the shadows of one of the trailers, I crossed my arms over my chest and whispered. “Can you get me in to see Max?”

“Remy, I already told you, I don’t know anything,” Blue shook his head.

“Blue, come on,” I pleaded. “I’m not even supposed to know he’s in there. I need to know what they’re doing with him.”

“I want to help you.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked over his shoulder, as if he expected somebody to be lurking there, watching. “I think he’s on the third floor. I haven’t seen him, and they haven’t called him by name, but from what I’ve heard, I think he’s up there. I can move around the area he’s in, but he’s in a locked ward.”

“Do you think you could get me in?” I asked, my excitement growing.

“Maybe.” Blue sounded pained. “I’d have to dig around, and I
might
be able to, but it’d be a one-time thing. Then I’d get fired and you’d be put in the stockade.”