Kaylee fell to her knees, barely feeling them connect with the cold concrete or the blood that seeped in to stain her jeans. Emma was pleading.
"Danny don't, please don't."
Danny advanced, standing right behind Kaylee. The barrel of the gun pressed to the back of her head, the metal hard and unforgiving as it trembled against her scalp.
"I can't let you live, you know that, don't you?" His voice was soft and even. But the rounded point of the gun rattled as Danny pressed it harder against her skull. Her neck craned forward involuntarily but she didn't answer him. He didn't want an answer, not really.
She had only moments left. Her life would end here, face down in the pool of blood she created when she killed Cynthia. Their blood would mix and mingle and Emma would have to watch it all. Her sister was still pleading, her voice getting louder and shriller, louder even than the infected next to her. Because she must have known as Kaylee did, nothing was going to stop this.
Her fingers drift to her pocket and the worn medal that lay in its' depths. The pad of her thumb traced the grooves of St. Jude. Kaylee felt her mind drift, not in passing flashes of her life, no heartfelt montage of sunlit moments, but to the faces of those she loved. The ones she would be leaving, her father, Andrew, Emma, Jack.
Her heart stuttered as the last face came into her mind, Jack. His olive skin and midnight black hair; his grin, both endearing and infuriating. His dark eyes and how they would be cloaked in sorrow when he found her.
Her chest was tight and her breaths came short and hard. She forced one last face into her mind, let it wipe Jack and Emma and the rest clear. Her mother. She would see her soon now, she was sure. Whatever was after this world, wherever she was, Kaylee hoped she would join her soon.
She could feel the pressure against her skull change, knew Danny was pulling the trigger back by the way the barrel pressed more firmly against her scalp. She clenched her eyes tight, not wanting the horror in the shed to be her last earthly sight, and focused instead on her mother's face.
Mom, mom.
Her fingers pressed to her medal.
"Kaylee!" Emma yelled and she fell forward with a thump, her body slamming to the ground, slick with blood.
But it was wrong, she wasn't dead. She was pinned to the floor by something heavy and she strained to get up.
"Where are the keys?"
Hope flashed and sparked at his voice. Quinton. His deep, even tone was unmistakable.
"On her," came Emma's rasp. The chains were shaking, Kaylee could hear it. "Kay! Kaylee!"
"I'm okay," she choked out, rolling out from under Danny. He was unconscious. His falling body was what had knocked her to the floor. She got free and scrambled away from where he lay next to Cynthia's corpse. She pressed her back against the wall, not getting to her feet. Her breath was coming in a shallow pant; her eyes couldn't stop staring, she didn't want to see, but she couldn't look away.
The chains fell from Emma's limbs as Quinton unlocked them. She crossed the room and took Kaylee into her arms.
Kaylee's eyes were focused forward, on Danny's slumped form, the even breaths his unconscious body still took. On Cynthia, horribly still and unmoving. Emma pulled her to her knees and gripped her tightly.
"It's okay, Kay," she whispered, her lips close to her sister's ear. "Thank you. It's okay. I love you."
Strangely, it was those words that brought Kaylee back to reality. Emma loved her. She wasn't horrified by her. She understood. Kaylee's arms unlocked from where they hung limp at her sides, she jolted forward and her arms encircled her little sister, gripping fiercely. Emma seemed to understand. She whispered over and over.
"It's okay. I love you."
"Get her to her feet," Quinton said. Kaylee had forgotten he was there, that he saved her. She stumbled to her feet, arms still clinging to her sister. "We're not out of it yet. They could come back to check on this one. What about the others? Do we need to worry about them?"
Kaylee pulled herself out of Emma's embrace, though she grasped her hand, twining her fingers with her and clamping tightly.
"That one's mother is with the group. And besides Marsden, their leader, there's three others. Paul, Tyler and Maggie. I don't think they'd side with Marsden or against him. Rose isn't going to be thrilled though, not with her daughter..." Emma trailed off, gesturing towards Cynthia's body.
Quinton nodded. "I have Andrew taking out the electric fences right now. We should get the others and get out of here. If we leave now, maybe one of us can come back, check the situation. This may be an ideal location for us, if we can work this all out."
"Not with Marsden here," Emma said, shaking her head. "He won't stand for it."
"No, I agree. We'd have to take care of that."
Kaylee's stomach roiled and it was beyond her control. Cynthia's blood was still clotting on the concrete floor, the air saturated by the scent. And they were already discussing murdering Marsden next. She retched, bringing her hand to her mouth. She pushed past Emma and then Quinton, throwing the door to the shed open before she lost the contents of her stomach in the grass.
The bile forced it's way through her throat as she vomited, her stomach emptying and still she was retching. Dry heaves that racked her chest.
The smell of the blood followed her even into the sharp, cool air of early morning.
"What's wrong with you?" It was Andrew's panicked voice. He was racing towards her. Her stomach calmed and she sucked in heavy breaths.
"Nothing, she's fine," came Emma's reproach. Andrew gasped Emma's name and he moved forward, wrapping her in his arms. Emma gripped him back.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," she whispered. Andrew let out a long breath.
Kaylee straightened, her hands shaky as she wiped the sick from her mouth.
"Are you okay?" Andrew asked from over Emma's shoulder, his eyes were wide with concern. Kaylee didn't know how to answer that. No, she wasn't. Not on the inside. But that wasn't what Andrew was really asking. She was vomiting and slick with blood, she had almost been killed as a bullet grazed her shoulder. But physically she would be fine. She wasn't injured in any way that wouldn't heal. This is what Andrew was really asking, so she nodded.
"The rest of the fences?" Quinton asked, joining the girls outside and pulling the door to the shed shut behind him.
"They're out," Andrew confirmed.
"Dad? Anna?" Emma asked.
"They're okay, locked up but not hurt. Maggie, Paul, the rest of them, I don't think they know."
"How..." Kaylee rasped, but she couldn't choke the rest of her question out. She still felt nauseous.
"Cynthia drugged them. She may have drugged more, Maggie or Rose maybe. I'm not sure. When we got back they told us you and Cynthia were out at the greenhouses, that you'd be back in an hour. Everyone was starving and started to eat. But I was a mess, decided to take a quick shower first. When I came back to the room, everyone was passing out. I didn't eat when I saw that."
"Smart kid," Quinton said gruffly. He wiped the handle of Danny's rifle clean on his shirt and handed it to Andrew. "He ran to the fence, signaled me. I got in here as quickly as I could."
"Took me a while to find the right wires for the fence. I cut them. Couldn't cut power to the whole place though or Marsden would know."
"Speaking of, we have to move."
Where they were, outside the shed, they were sheltered from sight. The door that Kaylee had rushed through to vomit opened to the fence. In the light slanting from the shed's doorway, Kaylee could see the openings in the chain link fence from where Quinton had cut his way through.
Quinton was edging around the shack now, peering past the dam to the main building of the power plant. Kaylee swiped at her mouth, spitting on the ground, before she joined him. The dam was still and silent, a vast body of water nearly twenty feet below the lip of the concrete barrier a pale purple in the hazy predawn light.
"He said he would be back," Emma said, her voice now low as she joined her sister and Quinton.
"Why did he leave?"
"To check on the others," Kaylee answered, "that's what he said."
She was suddenly uneasy. Marsden had been gone too long. It should have taken no more than ten minutes to check the rest of their group, make sure they were locked in securely. He should have been back long before now.
"Maybe he decided to skip it, send Danny instead," Emma suggested.
"He did send Danny instead, but probably because he noticed I was missing. He's looking for me now, or waiting for me to turn up, guaranteed." Andrew's voice was low and steady. Kaylee didn't doubt his reasoning.
"No one noticed you were missing before?"
Andrew shrugged. "It was Danny who locked the rest in, I guess he's the only one who did the head count. He's kinda slow. Maybe no one knew until Marsden checked."
"So we wait here. It'll be better for everyone if we handle him here, away from the rest." As Quinton spoke, Kaylee saw him take his handgun from his holster. He pulled back the slide and chambered a round. Her stomached roiled again.
"We're going to kill him." It wasn't a question so she didn't pose it as one. But she noted with at least some relief the despondency in her tone. As least she was human enough to still register disgust at the act. She wasn't refusing to do it, because, given the chance, Marsden would bleed her sister dry. He might kill her too, because she murdered Cynthia. And he wasn't above poisoning her friends and family. If Marsden was coming after them, then yes, he would have to die.
But relief spiked through her when Quinton spoke. "Not yet," he said. Emma's jaw dropped in anger and Andrew sputtered but Quinton held firm. "We're not snipers, we're not taking him out from here without warning."
"He tried to kill me!" Emma protested. "We can't stay here with him!"
"We're not executioners either, Emma," Quinton answered calmly. "He won't hurt you again, I promise you, but we will take him into custody and talk as a group before we decide anything."
"That's better, Em, that's right," Kaylee said softly. Her unhelpful mind forced flashes of memory at her, the axe striking Cynthia, the way the dull blade coursed through her flesh. She winced and held back a shiver. "Give him a chance to talk, a last trial."
"He didn't give me one," she argued, her teeth grit. Kaylee felt her sister wanted to say more, wanted to accuse her of hypocrisy, because Kaylee hadn't given Cynthia any last words either.
But that was different. She had a gun. It was pointed at me. I had no choice
.
But she knew she was lying to herself, here in the cold dawn air. Because there is always a choice. Kaylee had just chosen her own life over Cynthia's.
Silence stretched as they waited, watching the doors and windows of the power plant. There was no life, no movement. Kaylee couldn't see in the windows, the rising sun was splashing orange rays over the grass and pavement of the yard, casting the windows in brilliant, glowing light. It made it impossible to see through them.