AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I don’t object to his plan. I don’t have the will or the energy to do so. I let him take me inside, sit me down in a chair in the kitchen, and take a wet cloth to clean the blood off my face and neck.
I thought my face was wet with tears, but some of it was blood. There’s a gash on my cheekbone. Jackson uses some of the antiseptic wash we found at the drugstore in Chester to disinfect the wound, and then he applies a bandage. His hands are very careful as he touches me. Gentle.
My hair is loose and messy and in the way. I lost the elastic I use to pull it back when Caden pulled out my ponytail. I push some of it back over my shoulders impatiently as I square my shoulders. “I’m really okay. A few of you need to go get Brett. Be really careful.”
“We will.” His hazel eyes are searching my face. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to talk to Molly.”
“Wait for me. The others say she’s been really bad today. She hasn’t eaten or drunk anything. Just wait for me, and I’ll—”
“I know you will. But I don’t want to wait anymore. I’d rather do it alone.” I manage to swallow over a new lump of pain in my throat. “She doesn’t have much time left.”
This is undeniably true. Jackson doesn’t argue. But he says very softly, “If she wants you to do anything, wait for me. I’ll do it for you.”
I know what he’s saying. Exactly what he’s saying. And I can barely swallow over the lump in my throat. I nod mutely.
He gives another urgent, searching scan of my face before he heads out of the kitchen. I hear him asking a few of the others to go with him to collect Brett’s body.
Molly is alone in the sickroom when I get there. She looks terrible. Pale and weak and sallow. She opens her eyes when I close the door behind me.
She isn’t delirious. She recognizes me. Says, “Faith. Is everything all right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine.”
“You’ve been hurt. I heard the alarm.”
“Caden got himself a Wolf Pack and made a move, but it’s okay. We took care of it. No worries.” I don’t tell her about Brett. She doesn’t need to know that. It would only hurt her needlessly.
“Okay. I’m glad you’re all right. How did the trip go?”
“We couldn’t find any antibiotics,” I say, pulling the side chair closer to her bedside and sitting down in it. “We looked everywhere.”
“I know. It’s okay.” She seems to get choked on the last word. Her breathing is too loud. Kind of wheezy. “I think it’s too late for them to work anyway.”
I make a sound, but it’s not a word.
“It’s okay, Faith.” She goes on as if I managed to speak. “I’m so tired. I want it to be over.”
I reach out to where her hand is resting on the covers, and I take it. “I understand. I’m sorry I couldn’t find anything to make you better.”
“You did everything you could.” Her blue eyes are focused on my face now. Sober and tired. “You’ve done so much for me. But I’m going to ask you to do one more thing.”
“Anything. You know I will.” I know what’s coming, and I already know my answer. It’s why I was so desperate to find another option.
“I don’t know how long I’m going to hang on like this, and I don’t want to do it anymore.” A couple of tears stream out of her eyes. “I’m thinking clearly right now, and I don’t know if I will be again. I’m so sorry to put this on you, but please, Faith, can you make it quick?”
For a moment I’m too choked to speak. But I manage to nod.
“Thank you,” she says with a little sob. “I don’t mean to be a wuss, but I’m just so tired.”
“I know you are. You don’t have to do this anymore. It’s okay. It’s really okay.” I reach over and stroke her thin, tangled hair back from her face. I usually comb it in the morning, but I wasn’t there to do so today.
Molly is smiling now. She leans slightly into my hand. “It hasn’t been a bad life even if I had to live through an apocalypse. I loved your mom and dad. You and they are the closest I ever had to family.”
For a moment I’m not sure I can do this. I don’t think I’m strong enough to live through this moment. But this is a world where punches never get pulled—where salvation never falls from the sky—and so I have to be strong enough to meet it. My vision clears and my hands stop trembling and I’m able to say in a mostly even voice, “You’ve been a sister to me.”
Molly nods and shifts uncomfortably on the bed. She’s in pain. It’s obvious although she’s never once complained. “And we had a lot of good times. We used to pick strawberries in the summer, and we’d eat them by the creek.”
