Page 104 of After the Burn

Wren gave me a droll look. “I’ve been reading books on short-term amnesia.”

“Come on. There’s nothing useful here.” Lucas grabbed my arm. “I’m not waiting around for more infected to fall from the ceiling.”

“Shows what you know.” Wren dropped and grabbed a set of walkie-talkies stashed under an old newspaper on a bottom shelf. “I even have batteries in my bag.”

“Damn. Those will come in handy.” Her find impressed me.

She turned her head and spoke to her backpack. “Mojo, hand me the batteries.”

This woman.

One minute she’s brilliant and the next she’s one step away from licking windows.

“It’s raining men," Wren started singing. “Hallelujah, it’s raining rotted men.”

When my eyes met Lucas’s, neither of us could hold in our laughter.

Wren smiled and kept singing.

As we approached Elm Street, Beck met us. “Adrian is about to shit himself because you disappeared.” He grabbed me and squeezed me tight. “I told him you probably stopped to check out the store.”

This man always had the utmost confidence in my ability to navigate this new world, and I loved him for it.

I tilted my head back to kiss his beautiful mouth. “You were right, but we didn’t find much.”

“Speak for yourself, wench. I found something amazing.” Wren pulled the walkie-talkies out of her bag.

“Damn, Wren. Cool find. Good job,” Beck said, congratulating her.

“I’m amazing,” Wren smirked, brushing her hair back under her cap. “It’s about time someone realized it.”

“You’re something, all right,” Lucas snorted as he walked by. “Now let’s get to the others in case Finley needs us.”

Beck kissed me once more, grabbed my hand, and we set off for the clinic.

I finally admitted to myself why I’d wanted to go into the store. I was terrified that Harper’s fate was sealed, and I didn’t want to be there when Finley and Rory realized it.

But I’d forgotten… that in this world… we rarely got what we wanted.

CHAPTER TWENTY

TARYN

Islowed as the veterinary clinic came into view.

It wasn’t much to look at. A squat brick building sat behind a chain-link fence that leaned in places, the faded sign out front barely hanging on.

LINKIRK ANIMAL CLINIC

Only half the letters still clung to the weathered board.

Weeds had swallowed the parking lot, forcing their way through cracks in the asphalt until they reached my knees. Rusted shopping carts, probably stolen from the grocery store, lay on their sides beside a pickup truck with all four tires missing.

The front doors stood partially open.

A chill crept beneath my skin.

After all this time, something about abandoned buildings always felt wrong. As if they remembered the people who’d once filled them.