The Other Life (13 page)

I leaned my head against the seat and took a few deep breaths. The stabbing pain in my foot brought tears to my eyes. The painkillers had worn off. Joshua winced as he steered
the car. He was bleeding from a long gash on his upper arm and blood trickled down his tanned skin, dripping onto his jeans and the steering wheel. I twisted in my seat to take a closer look.

He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “It’s just a scratch.”

“Doesn’t look like a scratch to me.” I lifted the shredded sleeve and inspected the wound. It wasn’t deep as far as I could tell, but I wasn’t a doctor.

“There are a few belts behind the passenger seat. I keep them in case I need a tourniquet.”

I reached behind my seat and felt around for one of the belts. My eyes swept round the car, searching for something I could use as a dressing.

“Glove compartment,” Joshua said through gritted teeth. The first sign he was in pain.

There was something in there that looked like it could be used as a bandage. It must have been a shirt once, before someone had ripped the fabric into long strips. It looked clean, but anyway,
it was all we had for now.

I rolled up Joshua’s sleeve and began winding the strip around his upper arm. He clenched his jaw, but didn’t complain. We were still driving at an insane speed. The seats creaked
like they would break loose and catapult me through the windscreen. A hint of burned rubber hung in the air. If the tyres exploded, we’d be stranded in the middle of nowhere. I tried not to
pay attention to the houses rushing by.

“How did it happen?” I asked while I fastened the bandage with the belt. He winced. “Too tight?” I glanced at him.

He shook his head. “I followed two Weepers into an aisle but I didn’t pay enough attention. One of the Weepers sneaked up on me. It nearly got me. I managed to hit it with a bullet
but the damn beast crashed into me. I was thrown against a shelf and something sliced open my arm. Are you done?”

I nodded and released him. The belt kept everything in place and the blood had stopped dripping down his arm. He looked down at the improvised bandage, then gave me a smile. “You’re
a talented nurse. Perhaps I should keep you around.” He laughed and winked at me.

His cheeriness was so strange. We’d barely escaped the warehouse alive. Maybe he was just good at hiding his anxiety.

I leaned back in my seat. “I thought they were going to get us.”

“We need to be more careful next time, and we need to do something about your aim.”

“What’s wrong with my aim?”

“It’s miserable.”

I narrowed my eyes. Miserable? At least I’d shot one Weeper. Before yesterday I’d never tried to hit a living target.

Joshua looked at me with a lingering smile. “I don’t mean to offend you, but it’s in both our interests if you do better next time. The Weeper was running straight at you and
it took you two gun-loads before you killed it. We’re running out of bullets. Every shot has to be a hit.”

I slumped in my seat. “I didn’t want to kill it. Its eyes…” I trailed off. “Its eyes looked so human. Like it was crying.”

Joshua reached over and took my hand. “It was hard for me the first few times. But you get used to it. You don’t have a choice. I don’t like killing anything. I hate this life,
the killing – but if it’s not their death, it’s ours.” He paused, drawing in a deep breath. For the first time I could see how difficult this life was for him.
“They’re hunting us. Killing them is our only chance for survival.”

I stared down at our hands. His sun-kissed skin was light-brown, while mine was pale from the years in the bunker. I liked the sight of our entwined fingers, like honey and milk. Joshua gave me
a sideways glance, and when he noticed my eyes on him he pulled his hand back, curling his fingers around the steering wheel. I missed his touch.

Joshua avoided looking at me after that. He seemed distant. I didn’t get it. He’d taken my hand, not the other way around. Not finding Dad was bad enough, but Joshua’s sudden
coldness made it even worse. His moods changed even faster than Bobby’s.

The strained atmosphere and the disappointment of not finding Dad – of not even having a clue where he was – pressed down on me like a heavy weight, until it felt like I had to
squeeze out every breath.

We checked two more nests after the warehouse, both in south-eastern districts, but they were deserted. It looked like the Weepers had given them up long ago.

As evening fell, we began searching for a place to spend the night. I didn’t want to stop looking for Dad. Time was running out – if he was even still alive. I wanted to go on until
we’d found him. I
felt
like I could go on for days without rest, food or water, running on adrenalin and worry alone, but it was too dangerous. Outside at night, we’d be easy
prey.

“Maybe we should spend the night in one of the public bunkers?” I asked. It was the first time that I’d spoken more than one or two words since Joshua’s change of
mood.

His body tensed and a muscle in his jaw twitched. He glanced at me, then turned away. “I don’t think we should.”

I crossed my arms and leaned back. What was going on with him? “Why not? We’d be safe there. Even Weepers can’t burst through steel doors.”

He shifted on his seat and gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles. I waited for him to reply, but he just stared ahead. I kept my eyes on him, determined to get an answer –
preferably an answer that consisted of more than one word.

“Fine!” He glared at me. “We’ll spend the night in a goddamn bunker.”

He dropped his left hand from the steering wheel and then ran it through his hair. “Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s okay. I just don’t get you sometimes.” I shook my head, then shrugged, unsure what else to say.

“I’m used to doing this alone. It’s easier.”

I felt like I’d been slapped. “I’m sorry for being a burden.”

He groaned. “You aren’t a burden. That isn’t what I meant.”

“It sounded like you did.”

He shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

He laughed. There was nothing happy about it. “Have you ever lost someone you should’ve taken care of?”

“Are you kidding me?”

Realization flashed on his face. “I forgot about your dad. But it was his job to take care of you, not the other way around. He’s the adult.”

“I went with him to make sure he’d return to our family safely. I should have helped him, but I couldn’t.” A lump rose in my throat. “I abandoned him.”

“No, you didn’t.” Joshua’s face was set. “You fought. You tried to help him, and even now you’re risking everything to save him.”

I wanted to believe him. But I couldn’t stop blaming myself. My throat tightened again. Maybe if Bobby had gone with Dad, it would have been different. I sucked in a deep breath, then
peered at Joshua. “I know what it means to lose somebody I should’ve taken care of. Now tell me what this has to do with anything.”

“When I’m on the hunt alone, I risk my own life, and if I fail, it’s only my life at stake; only I pay the price for my mistakes. But with you, there’s much more to lose.
My failure can mean your death. It would be my fault.”

“You aren’t responsible for me. It’s my father we’re searching for. You’re helping me. You’re risking your life, though you’ve got no reason to. If
anything happens to me, it’ll be my fault, not yours.”

“Do you think it’s that easy? I’d blame myself no matter what you say.”

I knew it wasn’t that easy. I blamed myself for Dad’s capture, and even if Joshua told me not to, I’d never forgive myself if we didn’t find him.

“I can take care of myself. We’ll both be fine. We’ll find my father and then we’ll return to Safe-haven. Everything will be fine.” My voice was full of conviction
I didn’t feel.

“Yes, it will,” Joshua agreed.

We sat in silence for the rest of the drive.

Joshua pulled up in front of a public library. It was built of white stone, and the lawn surrounding it had been neat and beautiful once. Now the grass was overgrown and weeds covered the paths.
At least bombs hadn’t destroyed it.

“There’s a bunker beneath the building.” Joshua nodded towards the main entrance.

He grabbed the backpack from the back seat, before handing me bullets and a new pistol. I’d lost one of the two he’d given me this morning. If I carried on like this, we’d run
out sooner than Joshua thought.

We got out of the car and checked our surroundings. A group of ravens had gathered on the sidewalk, screeching and pecking each other. Red flashed between them. They fought over what looked like
a lump of flesh. Maybe just a dead cat. At least I tried to convince myself that’s what it was. I definitely wouldn’t check.

I stayed at Joshua’s side as we approached the entrance to the building. His presence made me feel safe, though safety was an illusion in this new world.

“Were you in this bunker?” I sneaked a peek at him.

His jaw tightened. “No. My family and I were in the shelter near the harbour.”

His family. I’d just opened my mouth to ask about them, when I saw huge letters on the wide wall in front of me.

Judgement Day has come. Thou shall receive Our Holy Father’s judgement gratefully.

The sun was setting, the orange of its fading rays making the facade glow.

“Gratefully?” Joshua snorted. He rolled his eyes at the message on the wall.

My attention was distracted by distant buzzing. It sounded like a swarm of bees. I searched the sky until I spotted a black dot. There it was again. Was it following me? Before I had time to
look closer, the spot was gone. I stared at the darkening sky, hoping for another sign of the strange black thing. With a sigh, I turned away.

The wooden double doors of the library were wide open, but there was nothing welcoming about them. A trail of dried blood led up the grey stairs into the entrance hall. Withered leaves and twigs
covered the granite floor. Layers of dirt caked the once-white stone, and several of the windows were broken. Shards lay everywhere.

“Come on.” Joshua nodded in the direction of another staircase leading down to the floors below. A sign announced that the restrooms were situated downstairs.

I clutched the pistol as I walked down the steps. The place smelled of urine and excrement. And iron. Blood.

Joshua moved towards a steel door that stood open. I paused next to him and peered into the darkness.

“If the generator isn’t broken, we might even have light,” he said, flipping the switch.

The lamps in the bunker flashed, illuminating the room. It was bigger than our bunker, but smaller than I’d expected. Beds, blankets and pillows lay all over the place. Twenty people could
have lived in this place comfortably. Thirty would have been a tight fit. As I counted the beds, I realized at least sixty must have found shelter here.

No wonder fights had broken out in public bunkers. There was something oppressive about the air, as though the breath of sixty people still filled the room, their body heat turning it into a
furnace, their hushed whispers like static. I could see them in my mind. Huddled together like pigs in a slaughter truck. No water. No food. Only chaos.

I descended the narrow staircase, my eyes sweeping over the mess. Joshua stood next to the door. He hadn’t moved a centimetre.

“Joshua?” I kept my voice soft.

He started, and his blue eyes found me. He seemed to take a deep breath before he closed the heavy door behind him and locked it. Nobody would be able to open it from the outside. We were safe
from Weepers and maybe we’d even manage to get a few hours of sleep. Slowly, Joshua came down the staircase into the bunker. He routinely hunted Weepers, and agreed to search their nests to
find my father, but this bunker scared him. What had happened in the hundreds of public bunkers across the country? What had happened to Joshua? He stood beside me, the backpack with the guns and
our food clutched in his hand.

“Are you alright?” Despite his tanned skin, he looked pale and his eyes were haunted. Questions burned on my tongue. Questions I wasn’t sure I should ask.

We gathered a few blankets and pillows, and put them on two beds that weren’t broken. Then we pushed the beds next to each other against the wall furthest from the staircase. Joshua sat
down on the nearest mattress, his back against the wall and his legs dangling over the edge. He put his backpack beside him. Two guns lay in his lap while he fidgeted with the hunting knife.

I slid off my sneakers and sat too. My wound had started bleeding and my right sock was soaked with the blood. I’d strained it too much. There was nothing I could do about it now.

I stole a glance at Joshua. He was staring at the knife in his hand, a frown creasing his forehead. Strands of blond hair fell into his eyes, but he didn’t bother pushing them away. He
looked lost.

The growling in my stomach disturbed the silence. Joshua rummaged in his backpack and produced the bag of biscuits and apples. He passed it over to me without a word, keeping an apple for
himself. He took a bite and chewed carefully. His shoulders were stiff, his expression guarded.

I picked a biscuit from the bag. Licking my lips, I cleared my throat, attracting Joshua’s attention. The blade of the hunting knife glittered under the glare of the halogen lamps as he
twisted it absent-mindedly. I realized how close we were – together on a bed. Mom would have a seizure if she knew I was alone at night with a boy.

I took an apple and turned it in my hands. It gave me something to distract myself with. “You seem to dislike being in bunkers.”

“If you’d seen what I’ve seen in a public bunker, you’d understand.”

I wanted to reach out and take his hand. I wanted to comfort him, but I wasn’t sure how he’d react. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees, then rested his head
on them. Obviously, he didn’t want to talk about it. I wouldn’t force him. Not that I thought I could. I ate the apple and put the stem down on the ground, then lay back on the bed. The
pillow smelled dusty, making my nose tickle. I held the pistol to my chest and closed my eyes. The only sound was our breathing.