Walking Amongst Them (Among Us, Book 2)

Bonding

We made a big nest of blankets to sleep in. Sam and Ben took over inventorying the church, raiding the cupboards for anything useful. They found a couple more canned goods, but unless we found more gas for the truck, canned goods weren't the best for traveling on foot. They were clanky and heavy.

I finished laying the last blanket down, and Abby instantly crawled into the middle of it and covered up. Leo padded over to her and plopped down at her feet with a sigh.

"Bedtime story!"

Adam, thankfully, laughed and brought forward a book he'd found in one of the rooms, "Alright princess," he said, "can I read the story tonight?"

She nodded, and I took the opportunity to walk away. Trish was nowhere to be found, and Clarke was standing near some windows that were covered in dust. Beck caught my eye and waved me over, to the hallway he was standing in.

"Can we talk?"

A lump formed in my throat, but I wasn't sure why.

"Of course," I said, and walked over to him.

Together we walked down the hallway. I didn't know where we were going, as I'd only been in the main room, but Beck seemed to have a place in mind. We walked in silence until we came upon a small office with thick wooden bookshelves and a matching desk. This must have been where Adam found the book.

I ran my hand across the books on the shelf, reading the titles, looking for a familiar one. It didn't surprise me that none rang a bell, but a few of the authors sounded familiar.

"So," Beck started, "I know you want to take things slow, or well, I actually don't know what you want. I guess that's what I'm asking, where you're at in all of this?"

I turned to him, words played out in my mind but none of them sounded right. I liked Beck. I liked the way he made me feel. I liked the way he held my hand and seemed to actually care about me. I just wasn't so sure I liked him enough. How could I know when I'd never really spoken to people before? When I was all but forbidden to have friends growing up, much less they be boys.

"I don't know," I said, as honestly as I could, "I like you. But I don't know if it's more than friendship. It's all been so quick, and when you told me how you felt, Chester had just . . ."

He frowned, "But you said," he paused, seeming to realize that I hadn't ever actually said anything. That he'd done all of the talking, "I guess you didn't say anything. I just kind of claimed you."

I nodded, not sure what else to say.

"Well I know we're not together, but my feelings haven't changed for you. I'll be right here until you figure out how you're feeling," he said, stepping towards me.

He placed his hands on my cheeks and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. The action made me relax. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and sink into his embrace. But he pulled away, and gave me a soft, pained smile.

"Right here."

There was a sharp knock on the open door, and we both looked to find Trish looking in on us with a raised eyebrow. I wondered how long she'd been standing there before she knocked. If she moved so silently in the woods, it wouldn't surprise me that she could do the same in an abandoned church.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you'd like to help us find some gas," she said, looking right at me.

I took another step away from Beck and nodded, walking around him, "Sure, sounds good."

*
*
*

It turned out that the 'us' Trish had been talking about included Clarke. I wasn't sure who I had thought she had been talking about, maybe Ben or Sam, but I didn't protest as we walked out of the church.

My bow had been left behind, but it was just as well. I'd been low on arrows anyways. Though I would miss the weapon when we went hunting.

"Usually churches have vans to pick up the children of the neighborhood to bring them into youth groups. We can start there," Trish said, walking around the side of the building towards the parking lot.

Clarke cleared her throat, "If they have vans we should consider switching vehicles. There should be enough room in one of those to hold all of us, and then we won't have to pick who gets to ride inside."

Trish looked at her, and I thought she might say something snappy, but instead she nodded.

"Good idea. How old are you anyways?"

"Sixteen."

I wasn't surprised to find her age so close to mine. Mabel had nearly been eighteen, and I was only seventeen.

"Do you have any other siblings?" I found myself asking, not realizing I had until it was too late.

She looked surprised that I'd even bothered to talk to her, and it made me feel bad. Was I to her what Mabel had been to me? The thought made me feel dirty.

"I had a little brother, but he was adopted. Not that that made him any less of my brother. He and my mom were visiting his birth mother when everything happened. I don't know if they're alive or not," she admitted, her voice getting softer with each word.

"That fucking sucks," Trish said.

Clarke nodded. As we rounded the building to the parking lot, we were met with six or so cars, and two vans with the church logo on their sides.

"We just need a tube of some sorts."

"How about the hose over there?" Trish asked, nodding towards the garden hose on the side of the building.

Clarke nodded, and I walked over to the hose and started to cut it, "How long?" I asked.

She held up her hands, "maybe this long? Long enough to hit the gas and still have room for us. We should make sure the vans work too. See if we can't find keys for them inside. If not, I know how to hotwire them. We should also look for gas cans if we can find any."

Trish held up her hand, "I'll look for gas cans, you two try to get the vans working."

I finished cutting the garden hose and followed Clarke over to the closest van. It looked like it would hold eleven people, all with seatbelts. There wouldn't be much room for anything else.

"Should we take both vans?"

Clarke looked at me, "We could, but then we'd be traveling in two different vehicles. Anything could happen at that point."

She didn't wait for me to respond before opening up the van's front door, which wasn't locked. I guess this town must have been considered safe, if people left their cars unlocked like that.

"I'm going to help Trish," I said.

"You don't want to learn how to hotwire?"

I paused, "I guess that's a skill I could use."

She smiled faintly and nodded, "in this day and age, it could be the one thing that saves you."

So I watched as she pulled wires out from under the driver's side console and proceeded to tell me how and why she did everything as she did it. The van turned on after a few sparks, and she smiled triumphantly.

"So where did you learn this car stuff?"

Clarke climbed into the van and sat in the front seat, looking through the center console and the glove box.

"My boyfriend worked at a car repair shop. And because he worked all the time, I just decided to hang out with him there. He taught me enough that the owner was asking me if I wanted a job, but then the zombies . . . well, let's just say I didn't get the job."

I frowned, "You had a boyfriend?"

She looked at me, a frown cresting her lips, "Yeah, why?"

I shook my head, saved from answering by Trish reappearing, "I only found one gas can."

"That's fine, the tank for this thing is full. We should be good for a while, depending on the mileage that it gets."

Clarke turned off the car and pulled down the sun visor. A set of keys fell down and she grinned, "Jackpot."