Page 32 of Such a Feral Little Lamb
Otto studies my face. His eyes flick briefly to Callum when he turns his head to face forward, and Callum is still unblinkingly watching us both.
“I hope so,” I mutter. We can all feel it. Even Autumn, and she has no experience to compare this job to.
Something is terribly wrong here. They’re all hiding something from us, hiding it between reasonable words and reasonable tones—all except Mason, who doesn’t care that I know he’s hiding things because he already knows I won’t push him. It’s not fear. I don’t want to upset him because I don’t want him to be upset.
I pull a face, staring into shadows at the corner of the church. I don’t know him well enough for that to be true, yet it is. There’s no fighting it.
“Don’t worry about it,” Otto murmurs. “We’ll get them yet.”
The day dawns grey and gloomy, and I wake to Dane’s face mere inches from my own. His hand is heavy on my shoulder, fingers digging in like he wants bruises to blossom beneath them.
“Time to get up,” he says, voice kept soft as though only the two of us are here.
I can hear the others. And when I nod and Dane moves aside, I see Mason standing in the door that leads below, expression darker than even the skies.
We all get ready quickly, keen not to lose what little light there is, and so half an hour later, we’re making our way down from the church and into Gravesend itself.
Mason strides ahead. I can’t read his face today, some distance between us I cannot surmount. Dane catches it like a hawk might and swoops in for the kill.
“Strange what they tell us back home, isn’t it?” he asks as we begin to weave our way through the narrow streets and towards the centre of town.
“What do you mean?”
“About the outbreak.”
I give him one sharp look. Someone misses a step behind us, but they don’t fall. Emma and Sal are with us today, Callum apparently getting some sleep.
“We know what happened,” I say slowly. “We were there.”
I was a child. Dane must have been a teenager, at least. Among our team, only Autumn was born after it all began, and not long after at that.
“The graves up there…”
Mason isn’t too far ahead, and I only see the way his shoulders tense because I’ve barely torn my eyes from him all morning. A barbed, ugly feeling beats against my ribs. I want him to look at me.
Why won’t he look at me?
“What about them?”
“Seems strange. Why would they look like that? Why would they be empty?”
“But the zombies…” Autumn’s quavering voice interrupts, and Dane whirls around, expression instantly furious. She swallows the rest of her words, coming to a sharp stop.
“The zombies?” Dane prompts. His sickly sweet tone is at odds with his expression. We’ve all stopped now, even Mason, who I see is looking back at us out of the corner of my eye.
For once, I can’t afford to have all my attention on him. I tighten my grip on my bat.
“I-it was a virus, wasn’t it?” Autumn says, and I’m honestly astonished that Dane’s fury can rival the certainty the Citadel has surely taught her.
“So they say,” Dane says. He smiles, quick and cruel, then turns on his heel to begin walking again.
Mason lets Dane walk past him, ignoring his sneer. His eyes bore into me instead, and his dark, flat gaze settles the neediness I’ve been unable to fight all morning.
“Best not to worry about all that,” he says and follows Dane.
I cast Autumn one final look before I scurry after Mason. Rae has her. Otto, too, and even Blake seems surprised by Dane’s outburst.
“Are you all right?” I ask, and Mason doesn’t spare me a glance. He stares straight ahead. We’re heading to the position where we left off yesterday, and at least Dane seems to remember the way.
