CHAPTER SEVEN
The fencing outside the perimeter of the new community is at least twelve feet tall in some places and opens to a settlement of people that from here can be seen hustling and bustling inside. The town of Williams, formerly known for its location on Route 66 was small before the outbreak.
Although surrounded by homes beyond, the main attraction was two streets featuring the historic buildings that made up the original space. If I recall correctly, this used to also be a hub for travelers who wanted to see the Grand Canyon via train, a fun way to get to and from the rim.
A series of trains remain on the tracks, creating a barricade on one side of the little town, opposite which is a thick, dense forest rising behind everything in a beautiful backdrop.
From what I can see, the community has been built around the downtown area and a street beyond, where the homes create a natural barrier with more parked cars and more fencing along the exposed spaces.
My eyes go wide at the amount of human life wandering throughout. Enzo and I have been on our own so long that the sheer amount of noise makes me uncomfortable.
We’ve grown accustomed to each other, to the silences that fall between two people after there is nothing left to say, and at times it felt as though we were the last two people on earth, hunkered down in a supersized grocery store, hidden from the world.
This is sheer insanity compared to that, and I suck in a breath as I walk through, with Enzo beside me.
The weather has brightened in the last few weeks, taking the chill from the air and the sun beats down on us, flushing my cheeks and creating sweat in all the wrong places. I would kill for a shower right about now.
Maybe this new and seemingly improved community will have all the modern conveniences. Just the thought has my mouth watering for a large latte with caramel-y goodness. Yum.
Like Flag, this settlement has fortified their surroundings, although they’ve taken it a step further, as evidenced by the barriers. The members of Flag never got the chance to finish what they started.
I stare at the different shapes, sizes, and colors that create a patchwork quilt of safety, and hope blooms in my chest. Maybe this is the haven we’ve been looking for after all the shit we’ve been through. If there’s a god, please let my wish be known.
The interior is still set up as a small town and feels eerily normal once we’re inside, but a shiver races down my spine when the large gate swings shut and locks with a series of clicks, signaling our entrance into this new environment.
Although I’m always cautious around new groups—since we’re better off assuming the group is evil rather than being let down once again—I’m too weary to worry.
Five months have passed since we lost the last of our group at the ranch. Five months with just Enzo as company, and after all this time, I’ve finally allowed myself to trust the guy. He worked hard, was fun-loving and playful, and most importantly, stuck around. I couldn’t imagine going this road alone, and I’m grateful that if I had to be left with someone, Enzo turned out to be an okay guy.
We rarely talked about serious things, but we got along and enjoyed playing pranks on each other, telling jokes, and trying to remain lighthearted in a shitty situation. Now, we’re surrounded by people, and I’m surprised at the anxiety that rises in my chest at the notion.
We’re both a little stinky, a little pale, and a lot tired, but as I tilt my head toward the sun, a hardness in my chest loosens the tiniest bit. Maybe, for once, we can relax our guard and establish this place as our home.
It’s all I can ask for anymore.
“Lola?”
Stuttering to a stop, I turn toward the voice and come face to face with the last person I thought I’d ever see again.
“Cole?” I whisper.
My heart wrenches in my chest before galloping away. He’s alive.
Holy shit! Cole is alive.
I stagger forward a single step with a wide smile but pause when a woman wraps her arms around his waist from behind.
She’s most decidedly not Michele, and I falter as I look between them with a trickle of foreboding. The woman is petite, with dark hair and light eyes, pretty in an understated way, but her familiarity with Cole causes my soul to shrivel.
Cole, however, looks good. His body has filled out, and he’s clearly well-fed, clean-shaven, with newer clothes. He’s even cut his hair short. His dark eyes roam my body from where he stands frozen in place, his face an empty mask, allowing this woman to touch him. She’s also assessing us curiously, and I note she’s not immune to Enzo’s facade because her mouth drops open in awe.
All of which flits through my brain dumbly as I watch them together, and I look back to Cole for a reaction, but he gives me nothing. He just stands there, with his head tilted ever so slightly as though I’m a stranger, as though he never fucking held me in his arms.
What the fuck? Pain explodes in my chest, and I suck in a deep breath, but it does nothing to ease the furor and I turn away, fighting back tears.
I fucking waited for him, agonized over his death, and he was here—with her?
He shouts and walks forward after a moment, greeting Enzo first with a backslap and a chest bump, which is entirely out of character for him and his usual reserved demeanor. Then he turns to me with the same blank expression and hugs me awkwardly before stepping back as though burned.