The World Without a Future (The World Without End) (4 page)

The bike cuts off, and I shiver in the soundless twilight. We’re near the edge of a cliff—the Grand Canyon. I almost fall off the bike, and Finn catches me, righting me with barely restrained violence. I pull away from him as Collin explodes from the car. It’s the first time I’ve seen him—he didn’t get out of the car when we stopped for fuel. Finn’s orders, and it was incredibly chafing that my brother listened to him.

“Ren, are you okay?” he demands, sweeping me into a hug. It’s a stupid question. If I had been bitten back in Haven, risking my ass for Finn, I’d have changed hours ago. But his concern is touching, mostly because it means he’s not pissed. Not pissed is good.

“I’m fine, Collin,” I say, pulling away. He lets me go and frowns at me, then over at Finn.

“You’re a fucking idiot, is what you are,” Finn snarls, and I flinch away from the venom in his voice and the words themselves.

Then anger fills me, and I shove him. “I saved your ass, you bastard!”

“You exposed yourself in a breach. You were unarmed, with no means of escape and on even ground. I know Collin’s taught you better, so tell me, Nurrin, do you
have
a death wish?”

“I was armed, and I saved you!” I scream.

“You took an unneeded risk!”

I open my mouth to tell him to go fuck himself, and behind us, Dustin shouts, “Will someone get me
out
of here? I have to pee and I’d like to be part of this yell-at-Ren moment.”

Finn’s eyes flick past me, and disgust fills his expression for a heartbeat. His gaze skates to Collin. “He’s her baggage. I’m not taking care of it.”

Collin’s lips compress a little, but that’s the only sign of his irritation. Finn turns away from me, and I grab his arm, still spoiling for a fight. He gives me a bored look. “I’d like to get to the Hole before the infects show up, Nurrin. Do you mind?”

“Take care of Dustin,” Collin asks. “It’ll be a few minutes before we’re ready.”

Fuming, I turn to help my friend out of his seat. Blood loss has turned his skin clammy and pale, and I freeze for a moment, not wanting to touch him. Years of being told bleeding is a sign of infection makes approaching him now difficult—bordering on impossible.

He summons a weak smile. “Help me up, Ren. I really do have to piss.”

I roll my eyes and reach for him, avoiding the blood on his sleeve. “You should have headed to the Hatch, idiot.”

“And then what? When we thought it was safe and came out—what then?”

I go still, staring at him with wide eyes. His gaze is bitter and filled with grief, and it hits me suddenly—I fall to my knees with a low cry. Finn catches me, jerking me away from Dustin, crushing me to his chest. I feel his tension, and I know he’s drawn a gun on my best friend, and I can’t hold back the wail of grief building in my throat.

“Did he hurt you?” Finn demands, his voice harsh. I shake my head against his chest, and some of the tension eases out of him as he pulls me away to look into my eyes. His gaze softens, just a little. “The Haven?”

I nod, hating that he’s seeing me this weak. Finn’s eyes shutter, and he releases me. “Go. Fall apart when we’re safe.”

Dustin catches me as I stumble away, and we lean against each other as we follow Collin and Finn toward the edge of the cliff. For a moment, staring off the cliff, I wonder where the hell we're going. Finn looks at Collin. "Take point. Dustin behind you, then Nurrin. I'll bring up the rear."

Collin glances at me then nods, scooping a bag off the pebbly, hard ground. Then he steps forward. The path—if it can be called that, and really, it shouldn't—is so narrow, I'm not sure how he finds footing on it.

I have no idea how Dustin will. He hesitates for a moment, and from behind me comes Finn’s voice, sharp in my ear. “You go down, or stay here, but get the fuck out of the way, dude.”

I turn to glare at him, but he’s staring at Dustin, his expression bleak. Dustin grinds his teeth audibly behind me and follows my brother down the cliff side.

“Take this,” Finn says, handing me the bag. It takes me a moment to adjust to the weight of it, and I can feel Finn’s gaze on me, avid and assessing. I straighten and turn away, stepping onto the path.

And ignore the half smirk that turns Finn’s lips.

“What is this place?” I ask, my awe apparent in my voice. Finn steps past me, his body brushing against my arm. I step away, quickly, moving to Dustin.

“I call it the Hole. My parents set it up a few years after the fall. It was always a safe place for us to fall back.”

It’s the most revealing thing Finn has ever said, and I look at Collin—he doesn’t seem surprised. He doesn’t seem even startled by the electricity pumping through the cave; the comfortable, if dusty looking furniture; and the little kitchen in the back, open cabinets stocked with MREs and canned goods.

He’s been here before. Finn has shared this with him, and Collin never mentioned it. Anger flares in me, and I turn to Dustin, kneeling in front of him on the couch and yanking at his boot. He screams, the noise filling the Hole, echoing around us. Finn whips around, his eyes wide and furious as he slams the butt of his pistol against Dustin’s temple.

I gape at him, and all the anger in me bubbles up. His gaze swings to me, unrepentant. “Take care of him, while he can’t bring every infect in miles to us.”

He throws me a first aid kit, and I catch it, even in my daze. Collin crouches next to me and helps me wrestle Dustin’s boot off his swollen foot. I prod it, but the truth is I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

“Just wrap it tight,” Collin says, and I latch on to his instructions. As I wind the bandage around Dustin’s foot, Collin shoves a pillow under his head—I guess neither of the boys wants to move him. Can’t blame them much. Dustin is solid.

“What the fuck are we doing?” I demand in a harsh whisper. He gives me a curious look, and I glance over at Finn. “He’s not stable, Collin. He’s
violent.”

“He saved our lives,” Collin answers.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“You didn’t need to know, and Finn asked me not to.” Collin’s voice is reasonable and calm, and I want to scream and shake him. I’m anything
but
reasonable and calm.

“Ren, I know how you feel about Finn. I get it—you hate him. But can you just put that aside for a few days? We’re not in normal circumstances, and you sniping at him every few minutes isn’t going to help any of us.” Collin says.

I stare at him, seeing the exhaustion and fear in his eyes I hadn’t noticed before. I reach for him, squeeze his hand. “Go sleep,” I tell him, and he shakes his head.

“She’s right. You haven’t had more than thirty minutes in almost two days. Go. I’ll take first watch,” Finn says from behind me, and I force myself not to react, schooling my expression to impassivity. Collin looks between us, uncertain, and then he nods.

The silence that fills the Hole after Collin collapses is almost deafening. Finn moves around, comfortable in his own space, unpacking bags and setting out weapons. I feel, suddenly, the itchy sensation of dried sweat, and I’m anxious to get out of my restrictive clothing.

“Is there somewhere I can change?” I ask, and Finn pauses, looking at me, one eyebrow arched in question. Something flickers in his gaze, shut down too quickly for me to follow.

“The back—past the kitchen is a tunnel. Change there. Should be some water to rinse, if you want.”

I start to say thanks, but he’s already turned away. Asshat.

I strip quickly, in almost complete darkness, and shiver—it's cool back here, surprisingly so. I dip my hands into the chilly water and scrub the dust of the day from my skin. It’s not enough to get rid of the dirty feeling, but it helps a little. I shiver and dress quickly in a long pair of sweats and a loose shirt, leaving my bra and zom gear in a pile on the stone. Then I pad back out into the main area of the cave and scoop up my knives and guns. The latter go on the table with Finn and Collin’s for cleaning, and then I go to stand near Finn. He’s at the entrance of the cave, staring into the night.

“Thanks,” I say, abruptly, and his gaze darts to me. “For getting Collin out.”

He gives me a thin-lipped smile. “Not for yourself?”

I look away, into the night, and ask the question that’s been at the back of my mind all day. “What were you doing in the orchards?”

Finn is so quiet and still, I look over and check on him—seeing him startles me.

“Collin and I have always had a plan, in case of a major breach. Getting you was part of the plan.”

I nod and look back into the darkness. “What happens next?”

“You go to bed.”

His voice is different, subtly shut off, and I push myself to my feet. I don’t particularly want to be sitting here having a conversation with Finn O’Malley anyway.

As I turn away, his voice stops me. “What you did back there—Nurrin, that was stupid.”

“You could say thank you.”

He moves, catching my bare ankle in a vice-like grip. “I won’t thank you for putting yourself in danger.” Finn’s voice is low, a soft accent rounding his words. His thumb moves over my ankle, and my pulse jumps—I wonder if he’s even aware of the caress and what game he’s playing if he is.

“Why do you call me that?” I demand, instead. His finger stills, and he releases me, rising in one smooth, almost inhuman move. He crowds me, and I step back until I bump into the side of the cave wall. His presence is choking the air in my lungs, consuming everything around me, and I want to shove him away, but the look in his dark eyes stops me—there’s something there I’ve never seen before. Something I don’t want to think about. I tilt my chin up, glaring, and Finn smiles, a faint twitch of his lips.

And steps away from me. “Ren is the name of a little girl avoiding who she is. What she was born to. Nurrin—that’s the name of a woman who risks her life because she’s got more courage than sense and was born to epic times and deeds.”

I gape at him as he turns away, and I know he’s aware of me staring, questions burning on the tip of my tongue. But he doesn’t turn back to me, and his voice is remote and disdainful as he says, “Get some sleep, Nurrin. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

I retreat to the couch, cuddling into Dustin and pulling a blanket up over us. He curls around me, an arm snaking over my waist, and I smile, kissing his hair.

When I look up, I’m stunned to find Finn staring at us, his eyes furious and hot. Before I can say anything—before I can draw breath—he turns away, watching for dangers in the night.

I’m awakened by voices and heat. Dustin has kicked the blanket off sometime in the night, but the heat rolling off him is more than enough to make me sweat. I ease away from him enough to give me breathing room.

“We can wait it out, Collin. It’s safer here than anywhere, you know that.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and then, “Do you really think Ren’ll go for that?” Collin’s voice is quiet, and Finn doesn’t answer. I peek up over the couch and see them—Finn sitting at the small table, his back to me as they clean the guns. Light is streaming into the cave, and I can smell coffee.

“She’ll do what she’s told. But it’ll go down easier if you’re the one telling,” Finn says lazily, and all my anger sparks again. “Also, she’s listening to us.”

Heat floods my cheeks as I stand, dusting off my gritty palms. Collin raises, coming to give me a quick hug. “Do you want some coffee?”

“I’d like to know what I’m being told to do. What am I supposed to listen to.?” I snap, aiming the words at Finn’s head.

Collin has the grace to flush, but all Finn says is, “Eavesdropping is a bad habit—and the sign of a morally corrupt character.”

“You’d do it in a heartbeat.”

He finally glances at me, and for some reason, all I can see is the expression in his eyes when he watched me on the couch last night. “It’s said imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” he says silkily.

“Imitate this,” I snap and flip him off. A smile twitches his lips before he turns back to the weapons on the table in front of him. That quickly, I’m dismissed.