PODs (41 page)

“What, David?”

“The end.”

I turned and cupped his face with my hand. “Don’t give up on me, David. I’m not waiting for the end of anything except the damned virus. And you’re wrong. I couldn’t have had anything and everything at the compound. I couldn’t have had you—the one thing I want in this world was the one thing the compound couldn’t give me. And I wouldn’t have forgotten. That’s why I sat in the middle of the meadow on the cold, wet ground night after night. Because I couldn’t forget. I didn’t want to. I was petrified you had. Terrified that you’d left me. Crushed that it was so easy for you to leave. And I still wonder how, out of all the girls in all the PODs, I got so lucky.”

David snorted a laugh. He took my hand in his and turned it over, doodling with his finger on my palm. “Yeah, lucky. I’m not sure that’s how I’d describe it.”

I shrugged. “Well, whatever you want to call it, me and my stubborn streak are happy with the choices we’ve made.”

David leaned forward and touched his lips to mine. He pulled back and looked me in the eyes. “I love you, Eva. If anything happens to you I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

“I know, David. I love you, too.” I pulled him down to the floor, wrapping my arms around his neck, kissing him deeply as our hands roamed each other’s bodies.

His trembling fingers fumbled with the top button of my pajama top. I placed my hands over his and slowly undid each button, his eyes fixated on my fingers. I stopped just above my breasts, watching him. His heart beat hard and fast against my chest.

I reached out and pushed up his shirt, caressing the skin beneath. He muttered an oath and bent his head to kiss me, gently at first, and then deeper. Harder. Demanding. One hand tangled in my hair, and he tipped my head back to expose my neck, and I gasped. He trailed warm, moist kisses from my mouth, across my jaw, and down the side of my throat.

One hand reached under my shirt and skimmed across my bare belly; my muscles contracted and goosebumps covered my skin. I moaned and he gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening. His other hand drifted from my hair; moving down, he pushed my shirt over one shoulder, his lips following his fingers—moving lower. From my shoulder to my collarbone, and still lower. From soft kisses grazing over my collarbone to my chest. From my chest still lower, kissing between my breasts through my nightshirt. His hand reached for the next button…I knew I should stop him. We were passing the point where neither of us would be able to stop. I knew there was a reason we shouldn’t be doing this, but my mind wouldn’t focus on anything but what David was doing with his tongue as it trailed lower and lower…

“You guys are still up?”

“Dammit, Jessica,” David whispered through clenched teeth.

I yanked my shirt back over my shoulders and buttoned up the front before she saw anything she—or David—shouldn’t see.

“Yeah,” My voice came out breathless. “What are you doing?”

“I needed a drink. Do you feel okay, Eva? Your cheeks are all red and you’re breathing funny.” Her eyes danced with suppressed glee.

David smirked. I glared at him before looking at Jessica. “I’m fine. It’s just a little hot in here.”

“Really? I think it’s cold,” she smirked. “I think being in the POD is getting to you.” Jessica walked back down the hall toward the bedroom.

“Something’s getting to me,” David murmured, kissing the hollow behind my ear.

“Me, too,” I said with a laugh. His kisses tickled in all the right—but very wrong—places. He reached for the buttons on my shirt, and I tossed his shirt at him.

“Fun’s over, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Tomorrow I’m getting a cup for the bathroom,” he muttered.

“What?”

“A cup for the bathroom. Then she won’t have to come out here for a drink of water.”

“Quiet down out there, you two. Some of us are trying to sleep,” Devlin yelled from the bedroom, before chuckling.

“No privacy. None.”

“That’s a good thing, David. No privacy means no babies.”

“It means no fun, is what it means.”

I laughed at his grumbling.

The next morning I was working in the gardens in the greenhouse. Something clanged above me and I jumped. Looking up, I strained to see through the foggy glass.

It couldn’t be them. They stayed away during the day—we figured the sun was uncomfortable for them. The only time I’d seen them in daytime, it had been overcast and raining. So it never entered my mind to be afraid.

Judy figured it out first. She stood and, without a word, ran down the slippery walkway to the doors leading to the main portion of the POD. I watched her go, still listening to the strange clanging on the roof of the greenhouse.

“I told you to stay outta here, Eva,” David yelled, running into the greenhouse.

“What are you talking about?”

“Them.” He pointed at the domed ceiling.

“The sounds?”

“Judy’s right, them’s people up there,” Roy drawled, squinting at the ceiling. “Jacob and his friends, I’d wager.”

I looked at the glass-covered ceiling and shielded my eyes from the sunlight. I couldn’t make out the faces of the people—the sun was at their backs and condensation coated the glass. But human-shaped shadows hulked over the glass, looking down at us as we looked back at them.

Another loud bang reverberated through the huge room and I jumped. “Oh!”

“I want everyone outta here now,” David ordered.

“No.”

“Eva—”

“They aren’t going to break that glass with a few hits of a baseball bat—”

“Nah, that there looks to be a tree trunk,” Roy said, another crash sounding. I could almost picture him chewing on a piece of straw with the way he drawled each word, like it was just another typical day in Dead Possum Hollow—or wherever he’d said he was from.

“A tree trunk?” I asked.

“Yup. Not too big, mind ya. But big enough.”

“Satisfied? Let’s go.” David grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door. I jerked free.

“I’m not finished with what I need to get done. They aren’t getting in here. I don’t care if all five of them have tree trunks—”

“They do,” Roy interrupted.

Not helping, Roy!
I wanted to scream at him to shut up.

“It doesn’t matter. That glass is too strong for them to do any damage.” I knelt down in the moist, black soil and continued to weed rows of carrots.

“Eva,” David sighed, easing himself down next to me. “What do I need to do to help? The sooner we get this done, the sooner you’ll leave, right?”

“Yes, dear.” I smiled at him.

They were waiting that afternoon when the hunting party opened the hatch. A boy named Tyler reached too far out with the mirror, and one of the infected bit him on the hand. We all knew what needed to be done—even he seemed resigned to the fact.

“We can do the quarantine, or you can leave,” Devlin said.

He was younger than me, maybe fifteen or sixteen, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles across his nose. Tall and lanky, his arms and legs seemed too big for his frame, like he hadn’t grown into them yet.

It’s funny—I’d never called him by name. We said
good morning
at breakfast and
hi
when we’d pass each other in the halls during the day, but I’d never really spoken with him. It seemed like such a waste. I’d miss him. I’d mourn for him. But I hadn’t taken the time to get to know him when it would’ve mattered. After the bite nothing mattered, except how we’d protect ourselves from him.

He wanted Devlin to do it. They walked silently to his sub-POD—the others who’d been staying in there with him grabbed their things and moved into other quarters. He had enough food and water for two days—the smell of fruit and vegetable soup filled the corridor. After that, we’d know. He’d either be allowed back in the community, or the sub-POD would remain locked. It had just become a quarantine facility—and probably a tomb.

Tyler wouldn’t be coming out of the sub-POD, not alive. A bite was a death sentence. We all knew it. Two days later, it was obvious he was infected. The sub-POD was disconnected from the main POD. The metal of the corridor screeched as the passageway was crushed, the sound so loud I covered my ears. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to squeeze out the knowledge that another one of us had been lost.

We waited a week before attempting to send the hunting party out again. There was no sign of Jacob or the others that had left with him. We assumed the virus had killed them and it was all clear. We were right that they were dead. We were wrong that we were in the clear.

Juan was on watch that day. He sat on the table under the hatch. The winch held the hatch in place, open just enough so Juan could see out, but not enough that anyone—or anything—could get in.

David sat on the table with him. They played cards while they waited for the hunters to return. Their laughter drifted into the cafeteria, where I was helping clean up from lunch.

“They’re telling ‘em today,” Hannah, a girl not much older than me, said.

“Who?” I asked her.

“Juan and your David. They’re really going at it.” Hannah smiled.

“They seem to be into the card game, that’s for sure.”

“Hun, that ain’t got nothin’ to do with cards. They’re going on about something. Probly some dirty jokes or your David’s telling tales about y’all.”

I could feel the red-hot blush color my cheeks. She smiled and winked. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it embarrassed me even more.

“David!” I yelled, walking into the main junction of corridors where the hatch was located.

“Yeah?” He peered over the side of the table, still laughing at something Juan had said.

I wasn’t sure what I was going to say next. It didn’t matter because all hell broke loose and thoughts of dirty jokes flew out of my mind.

“Open the hatch!” I heard someone yelling.

Juan reached over to let the winch free. David’s hand snaked out and grabbed Juan’s wrist.

“Tommy? Where’s everyone else?” David called.

“Roy’s coming behind me. Everyone else is dead.”

Dead. Dead. Dead
. The word echoed in my mind.
How can they be dead? We haven’t seen Jacob and his gang in more than a day
.

Since we’d first seen them above the greenhouse, they’d been a constant fixture around the POD. No one could go in or out. They were there waiting for the hatch to open—for any little mistake they could exploit. But they hadn’t been around for almost two days.

I climbed a few rungs up the ladder, high enough that I could see out the gap of the hatch opening, but not high enough to be in the way. I saw Roy running toward the POD. The red sand churned around him like he was caught in a tornado. It was impossible to see if anyone—anything—was following him.

“Open the hatch, Juan!” Roy wheezed.

Juan looked at David, his hand reaching for the winch. David shook his head once. “Not yet,” he whispered. “Take your shirts off and hold out your hands,” David called through the gap.

“We don’t have time—”

“Then shut up and do it quickly!” I flinched at the harshness of David’s tone.

Through the crack I saw their shirts drop to the sandy ground. “Is there anyone behind you?” David asked.