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They mounted their bikes, rode down the main street, and turned onto Tagish Road. “There were others in there,” Justin said suddenly.
“What? Other bad guys?”
“No, other victims. There were other travelers who passed this way. I’m glad I killed them, Carly.” Justin shook his head. “I’ve seen this sort of thing before. When the center doesn’t hold, there are people who take advantage of it.”
Carly sucked in a startled breath. “ ‘The center doesn’t hold,’ ” she repeated. “Where did you get that?”
“Hmm?” He looked at her with a small shake of his head.
Her father’s voice echoed in her mind. Things fall apart, Sugar Bear. The center does not hold. Carly swallowed around the lump in her throat. “It was something my father said to me. I just wondered if it was something—I don’t know, something that you guys said in The Unit.”
“Maybe.” Justin thought about it for a moment, as if trying to recall where he’d first heard it. “It was something Lewis said to me once. He was one of our commanders. He said it to me right before—” Justin cut off abruptly. “Right before something I’ll tell you about another day. So, maybe it was a line he used around your father. I don’t know.”
“Justin?” Carly paused, biting her lip, as she wondered how to ask her next question. She could think of no other way but to come right out and ask it. “Does it bother you to kill people?”
Justin was silent for so long that she didn’t think he was going to answer. “Sometimes. The first one is always the hardest.”
She tasted blood from her lip. “I—I need to tell you something, Justin. That man in Fraser wasn’t the first person I killed.” It was so difficult to force out the words, but she had to say them, had to tell him. If she didn’t tell him immediately, she never would. She had to get it out so she’d hopefully never have to discuss it again. Wasn’t confession supposed to be good for the soul? Carly certainly didn’t feel better. She felt awful, and it was very hard to look at Justin to see what his reaction was.
He didn’t look as shocked as she expected him to. He slowed his bike to a halt, and Carly reluctantly stopped, too, though she kept her gaze on the sand dunes beside the road that had once been part of the lake bed. There was a sign nearby that identified it as the “Smallest Desert in the World,” and ordinarily, Carly would have been fascinated with such an odd geological feature, but at that moment she simply stared at it to avoid having to look at Justin.
“What happened to you, Carly? Talk to me, please.”
“I don’t want to.” Now that it came right down to it, she didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe it had been a mistake, saying as much as she had. A small inner voice chided her for chickening out, but it felt like all of her courage had abruptly deserted her.
“I think you need to. Look at me, Carly.”
With effort, she did.
“Do you think I’ll judge you?”
Carly watched as Sam loped off to explore the underbrush along the road. A butterfly flitted through the branches and Sam bounded after it, gleefully jumping and twisting in the air to try to catch it. Carly envied him—that he could take such joy in a simple thing. Perhaps there was a lesson in that. She would have died today if Shadowfax and Justin hadn’t protected her. Or, worse, she might wish she was dead after Mikey and his friend were through with her. Life was such a fragile, precious thing, and it could be gone in an instant, like a puff of wind through dandelion down. She should take pleasure and joy when life offered it to her for she might never get another chance. And she should appreciate the important things, like friendship.
Carly turned to Justin and took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to. It just sort of happened.”
He nodded. “An accident.”
She shook her head and dropped her gaze back to the ground. “I can’t really say that either. My dad didn’t die of the Infection. I killed him.”
Though it was one of the hardest things she had ever done, she looked up and met Justin’s eyes. He wasn’t shocked or horrified. If anything, he looked compassionate. That somehow made it worse, because she didn’t feel as though she was worthy of sympathy. “Why?”
She gripped the handlebars of her bike so tight her knuckles were white. “I was taking care of Dad and Mom. Both of them had the Infection. My dad had begged me to go. He said he and Mom weren’t going to make it, but I couldn’t just abandon them.” Her eyes blurred with tears, and when she blinked, they fell to the dust at her feet. “I was so exhausted I could barely function, and it was so awful that for a while, I almost hoped I’d catch it, too, so it would all be over. And when I went to get something to eat and turned on the TV, I kept seeing these horrific images of what was happening out there, and it just seemed like one endless nightmare. Even now, it seems like a memory of a dream.”
She risked another quick glance up at Justin and saw that he was watching her, waiting to hear the rest of it. There was no condemnation in his eyes, and it gave her the courage she needed to go on, to finish it.
“I must have fallen asleep in the chair beside my parents’ bed. I woke up and it was dark, and my dad wasn’t in the bed. I looked around and saw him standing in front of the bedroom door, his back to me. Just standing there. He was swaying a little, rocking on his feet like a man trying to keep his balance on a boat. I thought if he was out of bed, it must be a sign he was getting better. I said his name, and he turned around—”
Carly’s voice broke, and she had to pause for a few deep breaths before she could go on. “He turned around, and he wasn’t my dad. I mean, he was, but I’d never seen him like that. His face—it was twisted with hate, and he shouted at me in another language. It was like he didn’t even recognize me.”
It was getting harder to force the words out of her tightening throat. Carly hugged her arms tightly around herself and shivered, though the day was warm. “H-he hit me. Hit me so hard I fell out of my chair onto the floor, and then he was choking me. I know he didn’t mean it. He never would have hurt me, not in a million years, but the fever—I shoved him off me, and he hit the wall at a bad angle, and his neck broke. I killed him. I killed my dad.” The last word was barely a whisper, but she had gotten through the worst of it. In the midst of the pain, there was a small glimmer of relief.
“Carly, honey,” Justin said softly. “I had no idea you were carrying a burden like this.”
Almost over. Tell him the rest of it, and let it be finished. “I don’t remember much after that. I know I put him in bed next to my mom. She died less than an hour later.”
Justin must have heard the guilt in the last few words because he said her name and moved toward her as though to hug her. Carly stepped back. If he took her into his arms, she’d cry and maybe never be able to stop. She had to finish this.
“I clasped their hands together. I took some things—my dad’s ring and my mom’s pearls— and left. I went home. I tried to call 911, but it always rang busy. I kept trying until the day the phone didn’t work anymore. I just left them there, Justin. I should have... I don’t know. I should have done something for them.”
