Live Another Day Baileigh Higgins (online e reader TXT) 📖

her with a stern glare. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course, it matters. Don't avoid the question,” he commanded.

“Because I'm a freak, okay?” she burst out. “A murderer.”

Martin sighed. “You're not a murderer.”

“Then what am I?”

He gazed at her for a moment. “You're just a girl, a survivor like the rest of us.”

She blinked, taken aback. That simple?

“But,” he added, “you're dangerous too.“

She dropped her chin. “I know.”

“So you must know you can't keep secrets like that. Ever.”

She nodded, miserable in the knowledge that he was right.

“You cannot allow what happened before to happen again. You have a responsibility,” he said. “And you cannot endanger innocent people simply because you're afraid they'll shun you.”

“I would never let it happen again,” she protested. “I'm careful.”

Martin's voice took on a razor's edge. “Don't be a fool. What happens if you get hurt and someone comes into contact with your blood by mistake?”

Nadia shook her head. “I won't...I wouldn't let them.”

“What if some stupid boy decides to take a chance and snatches a kiss? Don't think I haven't noticed Caleb's regard for you,” he insisted. “People need to know. He needs to know.”

When Nadia failed to respond, he gripped her by the shoulders in a gesture both sympathetic and angry. “Tell me you understand, Nadia.”

She nodded as a single tear dripped down her cheek. “I understand.”

He sighed and straightened up. “Good.”

“So what now?”

“What happens next is up to you. Logan tells me you are undecided on whether to leave or stay.”

“I suppose.”

“It's straightforward. If you decide to stay, you will be required to tell people the truth. They deserve honesty.”

“Okay.”

“The same applies if you go. You must tell the expedition party the truth.” He paused for a few seconds. “Or I will.”

Her breath caught in her throat as the implications of his words sank in. If she stayed, she'd have to tell Caleb the truth. If she left, she'd be abandoning him. Either way, he'll hate me for it.

“What about when we get to the other camp?”

“I'd expect you to do the right thing.” His gaze was stern and uncompromising.

“I don't know what the right thing is anymore,” she confessed. “I feel so lost.”

His features softened. “You're not lost. The real Nadia is still in there. You just have to find her again.”

“Easier said than done,” she scoffed.

“I never said it'd be easy.” He turned and walked away, pausing only to make a final remark. “Nothing worth having comes easy.”

Once Martin disappeared from view, Nadia turned back to watch the scene stretched out before her while she pondered his words. The truth in them was undeniable. “Nothing worth having comes easy.”

From her vantage point, she watched the fishing boats come and go in the distance. They went about their business without a thought for the zombies that now ravished the land. Fishermen cast their nets and strung their lines beneath the burning sun as if nothing had changed. Their skin showed the wear that came with the job. Deep grooves marked the leathery tan that turned their faces into uniform masks, and salt crystals formed in their graying beards. Later, they would pull in their haul, the nets filled with masses of quivering silver bodies, and tonight people would feast. Bellies would be filled, and fears would be stilled.

A rubber duck cut a diagonal line across the water, launched from the nearby harbor. It bobbed over the crested waves, cutting through the water like a knife through butter. She surmised the boat carried Adam, returning from the morning meeting to once more take up his post at the helm of the Sincerity. It was the biggest and best equipped of all the fishing boats, and he rarely left it, preferring the open waters of the ocean to the claustrophobic arms of the town.

For a second, Nadia contemplated what it would be like to stay. To say farewell to Logan and build a life for herself here, instead. She imagined what it would be like to live there on the shores of the sea forever, perhaps joining the watch as Ada had suggested. Some, like Donya, might hate her, but maybe the others would understand.

Maybe Caleb would, a hopeful voice whispered in her mind.

It would be a good life. One filled with honest work, loyal friends, and security of a sort, if not love and children. That was lost to her. Perhaps, in time, she could even make peace with what she'd done.

But she couldn’t accept it. Refused to believe it. People would hate her, or at the very least they’d fear her. She pictured them shunning her, walking circles around her in the street while mothers herded their children away in fright. It was a painful reality. What should I do?

Nadia lifted her hand off the gash in her skin and gazed at the slit. It was open and raw, weeping blood.

She remembered the first time she'd cut herself. It was right after Bobby drowned. They were all at his funeral, dressed in black, mourners at the graveside of a child who never had the chance to live.

The pain at his death was unbelievable.

Soul-crushing.

Devastating.

Her stupid mother wept over his little coffin as if she had a right to be sad. As if she wasn't the cause of his death. She failed him. She failed me.

Nausea overwhelmed Nadia, and she slipped away to the bathroom. Staring into the mirror, she screamed in sudden rage. “Why? Why? Why?”

Next moment her fist crashed into the gleaming glass. Sharp shards rained down, and fresh blood welled from her knuckles. She stared at the crimson drops, perplexed as the pain in her fist provided relief from the mental agony.

Her hand closed over a piece, and she raised it to her skin for the first time. That was the day she became a cutter.

It hadn't helped, though. The relief was an illusion. The only thing that had truly worked was time, distance, “...and acceptance.”

“I’ll never be normal.” The words slipped out from between her lips and into