Broken World (Book 6): Forgotten World (21 page)

I hurry over, dropping to my knees at the side of the bed. I grasp Ginny’s free hand, feeling like the biggest ass in the history of the world—which is saying a lot, since I know Angus.

“I’m here,” I say.

“I’m sorry.” Ginny’s sobs come out so hard she’s gasping for breath. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“It’s fine,” I whisper, patting her hand. “I forgive you. It was nothing. I don’t care.”

I can’t think of enough words to reassure her that it’s forgotten, so I just continue patting her hand.

“Breathe, Ginny,” Joshua says, then shoots me a look. “What happened?”

I swallow while I try to figure out what to say. Freaking Ginny out right now isn’t the best plan, but hiding how bad things have gotten seems like a pretty shitty thing to do.

“Dax is dead,” I say and take a deep breath. “And we’re surrounded.”

Ginny’s already big eyes get huge, and Joshua exhales. I squeeze the hand between mine while holding the doctor’s gaze. His expression tells me everything I need to know. This baby is coming sooner than we expected.

“How long?” I whisper.

“She’s nine,” Joshua says. “Any time now.”

Ginny squeezes my hand, and I turn back to meet her gaze. “What’s going on down there? Are we okay?”

“Don’t worry about it,” I whisper. “Just worry about you and the baby. Nothing else.”

Ginny nods, but the fear in her eyes doesn’t fade. It has to be horrible to know you’re trapped and in such a vulnerable position.

After that, time both drags and seems to move in fast forward. Ginny reaches ten centimeters, and Joshua urges her to push while I hold her hand. What seems like only a second later, something crashes to the floor downstairs. Followed by shouting and a banging I can’t identify.

“Ignore it,” I say, realizing it’s an impossible request but wanting to keep Ginny calm. “Just push.”

Ginny nods, her eyes so big they look ready to pop. Another contraction starts, and her fingers tighten around mine.

“Push, Ginny,” Joshua says as footsteps pound up the stairs.

Ginny cries out just as Angus rushes into the room. A second later Joshua shouts, “That’s it! The head is out. Slow down now. Take a deep breath. Don’t push!”

“Son of a bitch,” Angus says.

He tries to leave, but Jim materializes out of nowhere and pushes him back. “We need to keep you safe.”

Downstairs, there’s more commotion, and all I can picture are dozens of zombies pouring into the house while Axl and Parvarti try to hold them off.

“What’s happening?” I say, torn between the urge to stay and help Ginny and the desire to know if Axl is okay.

“They broke the window, that’s all,” Angus says. “This asshole panicked and ran. Left the other two down there to take care of it by themselves.” Angus spits, and the glare he shoots Jim could kill a zombie outright.

“I’m not scared, you moron,” Jim mutters. He’s standing half in the room and half out, staring down the hall. “Axl told me to get you upstairs.”

“I can take care of myself,” Angus mutters.

“Shut up!” Joshua screams at the men before turning back to Ginny. “Listen to me, I want to you push on the next contraction, nice and slow. Got it?”

Ginny nods, and a mass of sweaty hair falls across her eyes. I brush it back, feeling totally useless but wanting to help.

She pushes, and just like that, all our lives our change. The baby is pink and wet and smaller than I’ve ever seen. Ginny sobs while Joshua ties a string around the cord. He flips the baby over and pats the little thing’s back, but for a couple tense seconds, nothing happens. Then all at once, the littlest cry I’ve ever heard breaks through the room and cuts the tension in half, totally overshadowing everything else going on. Proving that God hasn’t forgotten us completely.

“It’s a girl,” Joshua says, smiling. “She’s tiny, but she looks good.”

Ginny sobs and holds out her arms. “Give her to me.”

“Just a minute,” Joshua says, then turns to me. “Scissors.”

I hand him the scissors we sterilized earlier, and he cuts the cord before passing the baby to Ginny. Her face is streaked with tears and sweat, and she looks exhausted, but I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as the smile that lights up her face when she looks at her daughter.

“Megan,” she says, sobbing. “Jon wanted to call her Megan.”

Just hearing the name of the poor girl we met back in the Monte Carlo makes me sob as much as Ginny.

“We still need to deliver the placenta,” Joshua says.

“Shit,” Angus mutters behind me. “Let me outta here.”

This time, Jim doesn’t stop him.

Joshua does his part, but I can’t look away from Ginny and the baby. Her happiness takes my breath away. Like Ginny, I was worried. Not just about the virus, but about how she would feel when the baby was born. If the demons she’s been trying to escape would come swooping in, destroying any chance of happiness for her.

The expression on her face tells me that hasn’t happened.

When he’s finished his part, Joshua stands and stretches until his back pops, then lets out a deep breath. “She looks good. I can’t believe it, but she looks perfect. Seems to be breathing okay, and she’s nice and pink. She’s small—I’d guess not even five pounds—but she’s healthy.”

He smiles, and I can visibly see it when the tension rolls off his shoulders.

“She’s perfect,” Ginny whispers, staring at her daughter. “And she looks just like Jon.”

18

THE ZOMBIES ARE still banging on both the front and back doors when I tiptoe down the stairs. Axl kneels in front of the barricade they’ve built, watching it closely like he’s afraid it’s going to collapse at any second. He turns my way when I make it all the way down the stairs and holds his hand out to me. I take it and move over to kneel at his side.

“She okay?” he whispers.

“Perfect. It’s a girl and she’s perfect, too.”

Axl nods and goes back to staring at the barricade, my hand held in his. “Good.”

“What now?” I ask, nodding toward the wall of furniture in front of us.

“Don’t know. Maybe they get bored and leave, maybe they don’t and we gotta figure out another way.”

“Is there another way? We’re kind of boxed in here.”

“There’s gotta be.”

We sit in silence, and after a few seconds, my legs start to shake. I give up trying to kneel and settle for sitting on the floor. Axl doesn’t move, and he doesn’t shift his gaze from the barrier they built. The only thing standing between us and the zombies.

Footsteps walk into the room behind me, and I turn as Parvarti heads our way, a box packed full of food in her hands. “Thought I’d take this upstairs to the bedroom. Just in case we have to barricade ourselves in.”

“Shit.” I run my hand through my hair and twist it into a knot on the top of my head. “Why does it keep coming to this?”

“Because this is the world now,” Parvarti says, then turns and heads for the stairs.

Axl pats my knee like he’s waiting for me to say something about Parvarti’s attitude, but I don’t. It would just be me repeating the same things I’ve already said a hundred times, and right now I’m too tired to try to work out a problem that has no solution.

The stairs creak as Joshua drags himself down. He smiles when he sees us, but the dark rings circling his eyes make me wonder how he’s even standing. He has to be exhausted. Emotionally and physically.

“How is she?” I ask, dragging myself to my feet.

“Sleeping.”

“And the baby?”

“Megan is doing great. Nothing like the other babies as far as I can tell.”

“So she’s immune?” Axl asks a little too loudly. A zombie on the other side of the furniture moans, and the whole barricade shakes.

“Umm…” Joshua eyes the wobbling furniture and takes a step back. “Not sure yet, but it looks like it. From what I was told, the other babies had trouble breathing from the start.”

Axl nods, and Joshua takes another step, this time sideways. Like he’s trying to inch his way toward the kitchen.

“Ginny’s resting, so I thought I’d grab something to eat.”

“I should go up and sit with her,” I say. “Hold the baby so she can really rest.”

Joshua shakes his head. “Angus has her.”

He moves closer to the kitchen, keeping his eye on the barrier, which means he doesn’t see it when I smile. Of course Angus has the baby. He has a few weaknesses: dip, beer, and kids. An odd combination, but one that makes him almost loveable. Almost.

“I’m going to head up anyway,” I say.

Axl grabs my hand as I turn, and I give his a gentle squeeze before dragging myself up the stairs. I peek into the first room but hurry away when Ginny’s sleeping form comes into view. She had a long night, and I don’t want to disturb her.

I come to the next room and freeze in the doorway. Angus is sitting in the rocking chair with Megan cradled in his arms.

“What are you doing?”

He doesn’t look away from the sleeping baby. “Just givin’ Hollywood a chance to rest.”

“She isn’t the only one,” I say through a yawn.

My gaze moves across the barely lit room, landing on the bed. It looks so soft and warm that I find my legs wobbling. A little nap would do me good too. It’s been a rough couple days, and I’m starting to feel the drain of it all.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Angus says.

I nod as I cross the room, my eyes not moving away from the bed. The mattress groans in protest when I drop onto it. I kick my shoes off before crawling farther into bed, pulling the covers down as I go. Then I curl into a ball and pull the blankets over me, snuggling into the warmth. My eyelids growing heavy in seconds.

“Wake me if you need anything,” I say just before I pull the sheet over my head.

The bed dips, waking me from a sleep so deep that it almost feels like I’m climbing out of a cave.

“You awake?” Axl whispers as he slips his arm around my waist.

I crack one eye but shut it again when I’m met with darkness. “No.” I twist my body to face him, and his nose nuzzles my neck. “Are they still out there?”

“Yeah.” His warm breath sweeps across my skin, comforting me despite the ominous feeling his answer brings.

“How long can we make it with the food we have?”

“A couple weeks.”

I nod as I scoot closer, trying to suck comfort from his body heat. It doesn’t work, not really. Not when I think about staying in this house for weeks, just waiting to see if these bastards will wander away. Especially when deep down I know they won’t.

“Get some sleep,” Axl whispers.

Again, I find myself nodding. I try to say okay, but what comes out is more of a grunt. Apparently, my throat has tightened so much that it’s now impossible for me to form actual words.

At my side, Axl’s body slowly relaxes, and I try to do the same. Try to shut my brain off and focus on anything other than the zombies surrounding us, but it’s impossible. Every time I close my eyes, I think about all the things that could go wrong. About zombies breaking through the barrier we’ve created and charging into the house, ripping us to pieces. I think about running out of food or water and about how horrible it would be to slowly die of dehydration. To know the end was near and the solution was so simple, but also so impossible.

No. I won’t let that happen. I’ll run outside and lead them away before I let us all die. Angus has to get to Atlanta, and almost every person I care about is inside this house. I can’t even comprehend just sitting here and doing nothing.

Axl’s breathing slows and deepens, and the arm he has draped over me grows heavier, but I’m still wide awake. Sleep is so far away that I don’t see the point in staying where I am. Once I’m sure Axl is in such a deep sleep that I couldn’t possibly disturb him, I slip out from under his arm and slide out of bed. The floor is cold against my sock-clad feet, sending a shiver through me even though the air in the room is stuffy. We could open the windows, but that would only be inviting the stench of death into the house, so it’s better to leave things the way they are.

The hall is just as dark as the bedroom was, but a light flickers at the bottom of the stairs. So faint it can’t be more than one tiny candle. I head that way, peeking into Ginny’s room as I pass. She’s still asleep. Good.

Downstairs, the rest of our group is gathered in the living room, including our newest addition. Just like when I crawled into bed, Megan is asleep on Angus’s chest. It’s as if she’s never been anywhere more comfortable than in his arms. Joshua is sprawled out on the couch, his long legs hanging over the arm and his eyes wide open. Like he finds it impossible to sleep with the dead banging on the wall next to him. Not a surprise.

Parvarti too is awake, but sitting on the floor with her back up against the couch and her knees pulled tightly against her chest. She looks so small and young and vulnerable. Like a child who has lost her parents and finds herself among strangers. Which is basically who she was when we first picked her up on Route 66, but it’s been months since I’ve seen this side of her. For some reason, it gives me hope. Like if she can just come to terms with the emotions trapped inside her, she may be able to get through this after all.

Jim stands away from the others, halfway between the kitchen and the front door like he’s trying to keep an eye on both at the same time. Like he’s the only reason zombies aren’t already inside the house, ripping us apart.

“How is she?” I whisper as I tiptoe across the room.

“Strong.” Angus says, grinning.

“And Ginny?” I ask Joshua.

“Tired, but good.” He stares at the ceiling with his arms crossed over his chest. “She’s in some pain, but that’s normal. It’s just her uterus trying to shrink back to its normal size.”

I nod, remembering the painful cramps from four years ago when I went through it myself. After Emily was born and long gone, off with the people who were supposed to be her hope for a better life. I guess no one can predict a zombie apocalypse.

“Can I hold her?” I ask when I stop in front of Angus.

He nods as he hauls himself to his feet. “Take a seat.”

I do, lowering myself into the rocking chair he just vacated. Angus waits until I’m seated to hand me the little bundle, almost like he’s afraid I’ll drop her if he gives her to me while I’m still standing. I’d be insulted, but this side of Angus is too adorable to wish away.

When Megan is in my arms, all I can do is stare down at her in amazement. She twists her tiny body and makes a little noise that reminds me of a kitten or some other small animal. It’s adorable and heartbreaking at the same time. She’s a lot smaller than Emily was—a good three pounds—but holding her is like going back in time. I only had my daughter for a couple hours after she was born. Just long enough for it to rip me apart when the social worker came to take her away.

I rock back and forth while the room around me settles into semi-silence. Joshua’s eyes close despite the moans from the zombies, and soon his breathing has slowed. Angus sprawls out on the floor, and even Parvarti lays her head back. Jim alone doesn’t try to get any rest. He’s as alert as ever as he stares at the furniture barrier.

After a bit, Megan stirs. She lets out a little whimper as she turns her head to the side, opening and closing her mouth like she’s looking for something. Maybe she’s hungry?

I get to my feet, causing Angus to sit up as well. I didn’t even know he was awake.

“I’m going to take her up to Ginny,” I say. “I think she needs to eat.”

Angus nods as I head by.

I reach the stairs just as Axl comes down.

“Woke up alone,” he says, his eyes moving to the baby in my arms.

“I couldn’t go back to sleep.”

“You goin’ up?”

“I think she’s hungry.”

Axl nods and moves to the side so I can squeeze by, his eyes not on me but on Megan. Something about the softness in his expression makes my uterus quiver, and I find myself smiling. Maybe one day, if we can survive this and make it to Atlanta, the baby in my arms will be ours. Axl’s and mine. It’s a nice thought, even if it does seem far-fetched.

I reach the bedroom and pause long enough to rap my knuckles against the door before pushing it open. “You awake?” I whisper.

The candle on the bedside table is lit, but it doesn’t give off a lot of light. Just enough to create dark shadows in every corner and across Ginny’s face when she turns my way. She shifts until she’s sitting, wincing when she moves too fast, and I have the urge to run over and help, but of course I can’t. My hands are a little too full at the moment.

“She ready to eat?” Ginny asks after she’s managed to prop herself up.

“I think so. I don’t have a lot of experience with babies…” I shrug and lower myself until I’m sitting on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Really worn out, but after everything we’ve been through, you’d expect that.” Ginny shifts again, and her face scrunches up. She rubs her lower abdomen. “Is it supposed to hurt this much? I swear some of these cramps are worse than when I was in labor. And I’m bleeding like crazy.”

“It’s been a few years,” I say, handing over the little bundle. “But I remember the recovery being pretty rough.” I’d always assumed my emotional state made the whole thing worse, but maybe not. “It won’t last too long.”

“Joshua says it’s normal for the cramps to be painful and that the bleeding should slow soon.”

“It is. I think.”

She nods, but her attention is now on her daughter. The baby mews, and Ginny pulls out her breast out, but I look away. Hoping to give them privacy. This was a part of motherhood I never got around to. In fact, everything after labor was lost to me, which at this particular moment makes me sadder than I’ve ever been in my life.