it would be naïve of me to assume the best of him after everything I’ve seen him do. War’s a good lover—maybe even a good partner—but a good father?
I don’t know, and I’m not going to risk finding out.
Taking a shaky breath, I lean over and kiss his lips. His arm comes up around me and he rubs my back. “Mmm … my wife.”
Something thick lodges itself in my throat.
I slip away from him then.
“Where are you going?” he mumbles.
I hesitate. “Just … going to the bathroom.” Not entirely implausible. Everyone at camp goes to the bathroom outside.
Quietly, I grab the things I need, and then I leave the tent.
My heart feels like it’s crumbling in on itself.
I don’t consider saddling a horse. Not when the corrals are usually guarded.
I’ll head out by foot until I get to the nearest town War’s army swept through. Surely I can grab a bike there—maybe even one with a small trailer hitched to it. I might have a chance then.
I feel like a fool for planning even this. There’s no escaping without War knowing. He’s always watching me, guarding me, and I’ve never managed to escape him.
Still, I don’t slow.
I have to try. Regardless of what happens, I have to at least give escape a shot.
It’s easy to walk right out of camp. The dead no longer guard the tent, and there’s not enough living soldiers to sufficiently guard the perimeter.
That all changes, however, once I get far enough out. War’s formerly undead army is now stationed out here, far enough from the camp that the smell isn’t overpowering.
The hairs on my arms rise at the sight of all of them standing motionlessly. I can’t tell which way they’re facing, but it seems like they’re all watching me with those dead eyes.
A moment later the smell hits me. I place a hand over my nose, gagging a little. Five thousand dead bodies rotting away under the summer sun creates a stench. Even breathing through my mouth, I can still taste the fetid rot of them all, it’s so thick in the air.
It only gets worse as I close the distance between us. None of the zombies move; no one steps forward to stop me, and none of them turn their heads to watch me pass. And then I’m right up to the line of them. There’s enough space between the dead to walk by without rubbing up against them, but I still wait for someone to grab me. I expect it now after so many encounters with them.
When none of them do, I exhale.
That was too easy. The thought fills me with dread.
Now to find a road, any road. So long as it leads away from here, I’ll be fine.
It takes what feels like an eternity, but eventually I do come across a road. It’s only then that I chance a glance over my shoulder.
To my horror, about ten meters behind me, a zombie has left its comrades to follow me.
That’s when I begin to run.
Chapter 49
I don’t think I have much time.
I’m still not sure what bond the horseman shares with his undead soldiers, but I suspect he can sense the world through them. Maybe their bond is strong enough to wake him from sleep, or maybe a zombie is going back to wake him right now. I don’t know how they warn him, only that it’s inevitable that he will be warned—and sooner rather than later.
The dead soldier is still following behind me. He hasn’t closed the distance between us, but I’m not losing him either. I push my legs faster and faster.
I need to find a bike as soon as possible. Then maybe I’d stand a chance of losing the zombie, and thus, War.
Just the thought of the horseman is crushing.
It’s all the fault of my soft heart, as he would say. It hates this too. With every step I take, it shouts that I’m a fool to run, a fool to leave. It believes in the best of War, which is why I ignore it.
Hearts are proven to be idiots.
I haven’t made it a kilometer down the road before I stop running. I thread my fingers together over my head and take several deep breaths.
This was a bad idea. All of it—every single decision that led me here. Running, sleeping with War, allowing him to insert himself into my life. All of it.
I glance over my shoulder.
The zombie has stopped behind me. He seems to be waiting for me