Page 65 of Blood We Steal

“I was hoping there would be more of them.”

“Suck it up, buttercup. This could be a honey bun,” I said as I put the meat sticks in his hand.

He made quick work of the cellophane and swallowed both sticks in two bites each.

When he was done, he swept the room again, his gaze lingering on the gun rack.

He crossed the room and grabbed the bulletproof vest off the hook. I didn’t speak when he crossed the room again, hoisting the vest over my head, and cinched the straps with quick, efficient tugs.

“Just in case,” he said, his voice calm but his hands almost tender as he checked the straps.

THIRTY

Simone

“You were right, the fresh air is nice,” I whispered the next day.

I was again wearing the bulletproof vest, overkill in my opinion, but a condition Rubin had put on this trip outside. I’d have given him anything to go out, but I’d let him put it on me grudgingly, if only to prove a point.

I’d been scared yesterday. Now I wanted to rip my clothes off to feel the air and sun on my skin. Not even the persistent stink, the gunshots, the clamoring of the dead I could hear behind the wall made a difference.

We were in the courtyard, traversing the fenced area that spanned the jail. The visitors’ gate had been barricaded, and the space between the first gate and the main gate was clear save the debris scattered about. I looked toward the gate. “There are barricades. Would it be possible to expand the perimeter?” I asked.

“Depends. Why?”

“Well, the interior walls are low because the assumption is that this outer perimeter won’t be breached. Maybe we can reinforce it and find a way to scavenge resources. Build this place up.”

“The issue is the calories it would take for that kind of heavy construction might not be worth it.”

We continued to walk, Rubin undoubtedly keeping his strides slow to accommodate me. He walked on the outside of our little group, with me between him and the perimeter wall. I would have preferred being on the outside. The noise behind the wall was persistent and unnerving. I’d glimpsed the dead through the windows, seen those inside the jail, but hearing them, a clamoring horde I’d somehow not noticed the day before, spiked the nerves I’d been managing to keep at bay.

“This isn’t sustainable. The food’s almost out,” he said, looking at me.

“It’s not,” I said, glad to speak the thought I hadn’t been able to escape.

“What should we do?”

He sounded like he really wanted to know what I thought. I looked at him, my brow arched.

“Why do you look surprised? I’ve always asked your opinion. It even landed me in prison.”

“That’s why I’m surprised,” I whispered.

He shrugged. “You will pay for what you did to me. But there’s nothing that says you can’t be useful in the meantime.”

That was how I’d sold myself. Useful. But what the fuck did I know about surviving the apocalypse? Nothing.

I told him as much. “I could lay out options I know you’ve already considered, but that’s a waste of time, so why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking, and I’ll give you an opinion on that?”

“I’m thinking I need to be ready for anything,” he said, to my surprise. I hadn’t expected a response.

“That’s a given,” I said.

“And I’m thinking that those guards will probably eat each other alive before they even get to me. But they might not. So why am I wasting resources and trying to guard against them? Trying to protect this place. I should leave here, barricade the exits, and let them starve to death.”

“What about the other inmates?” I asked.

“What about them?”