Thicker Than Blood (Thicker Than Blood #1)(46)

“You have never cared about your clothes!” Evelyn protested. “I had to practically drag you to the mall with me.”

“I didn’t care much about my clothes,” I said, correcting her. “But the difference is they were my clothes, and I happened to like them very much.” I gestured down at my ridiculous ensemble. “This,” I said pointedly, “I dislike very much.”

Evelyn slowed her pace, leveling me with a look of disbelief. “Are you the one wearing a skintight pink nightie, Lei? With hearts and stars on it?”

Ahead of us, Alex barked out a harsh-sounding laugh, startling me. Evelyn and I looked at each other, our eyes wide with surprise. Had Alex just…laughed?

Readjusting her makeshift sack, Evelyn brought a hand to her face, cupping her mouth. “I think that’s the first time Alex has ever laughed,” she whispered. “Ever.”

“I agree,” I whispered back. “It did sound a little rusty.”

“I can hear you,” Alex muttered, not bothering to spare us a glance. “And I think you both sound like spoiled little girls. Your clothes are clean and dry—it shouldn’t matter what the hell they look like.”

Evelyn turned to me, her eyes wide with amusement. You both sound like spoiled little girls, she mouthed mockingly.

Looking away, I clapped my hand over my mouth, swallowing back my threatening laughter. Yet Evelyn continued to mimic Alex, even going as far as to imitate the way he was walking, his shoulders squared, his back ramrod straight. All in all, he had a sort of marching quality about him.

“By the way,” Evelyn whispered again, and I felt a soft pinch on my arm. “Did you kiss him last night?”

My eyes widened, and I dropped my gaze to the forest floor. Feeling my face grow warm, I bit my bottom lip and continued walking, studiously ignoring her. I felt another pinch, and another, and then Evelyn began poking me, over and over again. It didn’t matter how fast I walked, her legs were longer and quicker than mine. Each time I tried speeding up, she was still right there, still poking me in the arm. Only once did Alex glance over his shoulder, seeing what we were doing, acting like ridiculous children. He’d rolled his eyes and quickly looked away.

“Yes!” I suddenly hissed, unable to take another second of her incessant poking. “I kissed him!” Coming to an abrupt stop, I spun on her, pointing an accusatory finger. But when I found her smiling, grinning actually, I couldn’t stay mad. I just couldn’t. Not with her.

The news seem to thrill Evelyn, who proceeded to let out a small squeak of excitement. Looping her arm through mine, she pulled me close, and together we started walking again.

“Hurry up,” Alex called out. “You’re falling behind.”

“I hope he’s more fun to kiss than he is to travel with,” Evelyn whispered.

“Shh!” I admonished softly. “Shut your mouth!”

“I can still hear you,” Alex called out, his tone dry, yet with a hint of amusement. “Loud and clear.”

Feeling a startling amount of contentment, I pressed my lips together and cast my gaze downward, smiling to myself. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d felt so…okay.

I couldn’t lie and say that I was happy, not with the infected as well as the living an ever-present threat. Not when there was no way of knowing how or when we were going to get our next meal, let alone find a safe place to spend the night.

But at the very least, in that singular moment, I felt better than I could remember feeling in a long time. Freer, and more like myself than I had been in years.

? ? ?

Hours later, when the sun was beginning its downward descent, the trees starting to thin out some, we happened on a narrow dirt path. Alex bent down on one knee, inspecting the man-made trail. “It’s not overgrown,” he mused aloud. Standing up, he looked left and then right, his expression quizzical.

“Do you smell that?” Evelyn asked, lifting her chin and sniffing the air. I gave her a questioning glance, and sniffed as well.

“Like…something’s burning?” Alex suggested. “Or was burning.”

At first I couldn’t smell anything out of place; the forest smelled like you’d expect—damp, cool and crisp, hints of moss and pine and the bitter woodsy scent of leaves beginning to decay. I inhaled harder, sucking in air through my nostrils and down my throat until I began to sort out the intermingling smells, finding the one scent that was out of place. It was something like the aroma of a doused campfire, when the fire had been put out but the embers were still steaming.

“I can’t be sure,” Alex said, peering down the path. “But I think it’s traveling with the breeze. We could head west and check it out, or east and see if this path leads us to a road.”

He turned to face Evelyn and me, waiting for our response. How did he know which way was west, I wondered, without a compass?

“The sun rises in the east,” he said, answering my unspoken question with a wink. “And sets in the west. And moss,” he continued, pointing to a large oak. “Supposedly it only grows on the north side, but I’m not exactly sure how accurate that is.”

“What did you do before?” I asked, intrigued and suddenly wanting to know more about him. “Before the infection?”

He lifted one broad shoulder, then let it drop nonchalantly. “Nothing really. I was only nineteen when the infection hit the States. I was in community college, played football every weekend with my friends, hunted with my dad, still didn’t know what I wanted to do with myself.” He shrugged again, more so with his face than his body. “Still don’t.”