Far from Done: Far Series Book Six, page 1
FAR FROM DONE
FAR SERIES BOOK SIX
KATE L. MARY
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Acknowledgments
Also by Kate L. Mary
About the Author
1
Rowan
A burst of wind hit the house, rattling the old windows in their frames, and an involuntary shiver moved through me. They were single paned, which was why we’d covered them in plastic when the temperature once again began to drop. It helped keep us somewhat warm during the winter, but I’d been more than grateful for the wood burning fireplace in the house we now called home, as well as the kerosene heaters. Even so, we’d depended on blankets and body heat to keep warm at night, which didn’t always stop my toes from turning to icicles. There was nothing I hated more than being cold.
It had been our group’s first winter without electricity, since we’d had a generator at the hospital, and while I couldn’t speak for everyone else, it had made me detest the cold more than ever. Every time it snowed, my mood had plummeted until I was so grumpy no one wanted to be around me. Too bad we lived in such close quarters and escape was usually impossible.
I glanced toward the window when a chill shot through me, seeming to go so deep it penetrated my bones. Outside, flurries dance through the air, making me scowl in irritation. It was the first day of spring, which should have meant sunshine and flowers and, best of all, no more snow. Too bad Ohio didn’t seem to know that.
“Stupid snow,” I said in a sing-song voice, tearing my focus from the window so I could concentrate on Elizabeth. “That’s right. It’s stupid, isn’t it?”
My daughter’s blue eyes lit up and she slapped her hands against the tray of her highchair. She was a mess, her pink lips and rosy cheeks smeared with applesauce, her blonde hair sticking up in places and crusty with the stuff. Even so, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and nothing could melt my heart the way her laughter did.
“Ready for more?” I asked as I scooped up another spoonful of applesauce.
Elizabeth greedily took the food in her mouth as footsteps thudded into the room at my back. I glanced over my shoulder, smiling at the sight of my father’s grinning face, and as if he’d brought a heater with him, my insides thawed just a little.
“How’s my big girl?” he said as he crossed the room, the ancient wooden floor creaking beneath his feet.
“A mess,” I said, my attention returning to Elizabeth.
At the sight of her grandfather, my daughter’s eyes lit up even more and she clapped her hands. She’d just started doing it the week before, which meant she was right on track for a nine-month-old baby, and the noise still delighted her. She squealed and kicked her legs, swinging her feet in excitement.
Dad knelt in front of her. “You are a mess.”
Elizabeth, thrilled by the attention, reached out as if trying to grab the few hairs still clinging to his scalp, and my father ducked out of the way, narrowly missing her messy grasp.
“I don’t think we both need to be covered in applesauce,” he said, waving his finger at her. Which she immediately tried to grab.
“She’s going to need a bath,” I said, letting out a little sigh as I fed her more applesauce. “Which means I get to boil a shit ton of water.”
My dad stood and took a step back, putting space between himself and his granddaughter. “I’m sure Lexi could use a bath as well.”
“Yeah,” I said, the word more of a grumble than agreement.
Nine months we’d been living in Troy, which meant nine months of no running water or electricity. It should have annoyed me less than it did. After all, those of us who’d survived the siege on the hospital had been welcomed into this settlement with open arms. Upon learning we’d lost everything, people had been more than happy to share their resources with us. We were given temporary lodging and jobs, and not once were we treated like we didn’t belong. Yes, it probably had a lot to do with the fact that our group had rushed to their aid when the settlement was under attack, as well as the help we’d provided not just in cleaning up the mess that had been left behind, but in expanding our living space since then. Still, it wasn’t exactly what I’d expected, considering my few interactions with Peters, and more than a lot of people would have done. We had walls and security and had managed to create a life. It was more than I could have hoped for.
Eighteen months ago, as the virus swept the country and everyone started dying, I’d had a difficult time picturing what the future would be like. After, when the dead came back, it became even more uncertain. I’d hoped we’d one day have something that resembled a normal life, but my optimism had been small and fleeting. Never in my wildest dreams could I have pictured anything like what we were living now.
My daughter waved her arms and squealed, drawing me out of my thoughts with a start.
“Okay, okay,” I said, grinning at her. “I get it. You’re hungry.”
Dad watched Elizabeth take another bite, a grin on his face that looked a lot more like the man who’d raised me than the one I’d found after returning to Troy more than a year ago. He was a changed man. He joked and laughed, played with his granddaughter, and rocked her to sleep when she was fussy. It was such a relief not just to have him back, but also to have someone living with us who had experience with kids. Kiaya knew nothing about babies—and most of the time didn’t care to learn—and neither did Doug. Zara was willing to help when she could, but she had Lexi to look after. Grace lived down the street, and even though she’d apologized for her verbal attack back at the hospital, I wasn’t about to ask for her help, and while Gabe was willing to give advice whenever it was needed, he and Lisa lived next door. Which was why I was so thankful to have my dad to turn to.
He stood beside me for a few seconds longer, watching his grandchild devour everything I put in front of her, before finally sighing. “Well, I guess I should head to the clinic and relieve Ryan.”
Another burst of wind rattled the windows, and another shiver shook my body. “Wear a coat. It’s snowing. Again.”
“Spring will be here before you know it.”
Dad headed to the back door where his coat hung on a hook, patting me on the shoulder as he passed. I watched him pull it on then grab his gun belt, which had been hanging beneath it. He secured it around his waist, and my gut clenched.
Seeing my soft-spoken father with the weapons never got easier. Until coming here, he’d never shot a gun, but after everything that happened the night I went into labor with Elizabeth, teaching him—and everyone else—how to handle a weapon became a necessity. Devon and Gabe had taken on the responsibility, driving to a farm in the middle of nowhere and making sure anyone who wasn’t familiar with guns got plenty of target practice. Since then, Dad never left the house unarmed. None of us did. We would never make the mistake of being complacent after that horrible night.
No one had seen or heard from the group who attacked us since then. Not here and not in any of the other settlements we were in contact with, either. We’d looked. Searched all of Troy as well as the neighboring towns, and had even set traps in hopes of luring them in. All of it, though, had come to nothing. It was like they’d vanished into thin air. Or moved on. Taking Mike with them.
Lexi, who’d always been such a resilient child, hadn’t been the same since the night of the attack. Or Zara either. The little girl felt her brother’s loss even more, it seemed, than when she’d lost her mom. She woke with nightmares, calling for Mike, and refused to sleep alone. Zara, fortunately, didn’t seem to mind sharing a bed with Lexi. It was possible she needed it as much as the little girl did. Zara blamed herself for Mike’s disappearance, and as a result, it was rare to see her without his sister. It was like she thought the only way to protect Lexi was to never let her out of her sight.
I thought they both might need counseling, but since we didn’t have a single therapist in the settlement, there wasn’t much we could do about it.
“I’ll see you later tonight,” Dad said before stepping from the room and disappearing from sight.
His footsteps thudded down the hall, followed a few seconds later by the groan of hinges when he opened the front door. A burst of icy air swept into the room, and I shivered yet again. Surprised by the sudden change in temperature, Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and she looked around like she was searching for the source of the chi
“I wish we didn’t have to go anywhere today,” I muttered as another round of shivers shook my body and goose bumps popped up on my arms.
Spring couldn’t come soon enough.
Elizabeth finished eating, and I did my best to wipe her down. It was a losing battle since she’d gotten applesauce in her ears in addition to her hair, but it would have to do until later tonight. There was no point in boiling water for a bath until Lexi was here to take one as well.
Once Elizabeth was as clean as she would get, I bundled her up before grabbing the baby sling. It was a gift from Gabe, who’d given it to me a few days after Elizabeth was born. His wife had used one with their kids—although he hadn’t said it, I was pretty sure she’d used this exact sling—and he said she’d sworn by it. The gift had touched me even before I’d realized just how practical the thing was. With Elizabeth strapped securely to my chest and my hands free, I could do pretty much anything. Including running from the dead—or people—if I had to. I hoped that day would never come, but it was nice to know we had some kind of plan if it did.
Since wearing Elizabeth over my coat was too much of a pain, I pulled my huge, black parka on over her. It was several sizes too big, so I was able to zip it over both of us. My gun belt went on last for easy access. Once that was done, I put a hat on my daughter and shoved my feet into my snow boots and I was ready to brave the blistering cold. Well, kind of. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but at least I was bundled up.
More than used to the routine by now, Elizabeth looked around expectantly, her head poking out above the zipper of my jacket, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. Both Devon and I had blue eyes, so it was no surprise she had them as well. Still, it often gave me a start when I looked at her, because they were so similar to her father’s. She had his dimple, too, only one in each cheek instead of just the one, and my blonde hair. It was possible I was a little biased on the subject, but she was, by far, the most beautiful baby in the world.
I slipped out of the house, lowering my face against the wind as I pulled the door shut behind me. Tiny snowflakes danced through the air, collecting at the base of trees and along the edge of the street, but thankfully not coating the ground too much. With the day being so bitterly cold, I knew Devon would probably be with the crew working to expand our settlement. Like the winter before, the dead had frozen with the drop in temperature, giving us the chance to clear the surrounding streets and build more barricades. Time was running out, though. We’d already had a couple days where the temperature was in the fifties and sixties—fake spring, my mom had always called it—and it wouldn’t be long before the dead thawed and were back on the prowl.
The newly constructed barricade was visible at the end of the road to my left, cutting across the street and connecting the houses on either side. I turned the other way, though, heading toward the center of town with Elizabeth hugged to my chest as the wind slammed into us. Tiny flakes of snow landed on her pink hat—everything she wore was pink—clinging to the fibers for a few seconds before melting and leaving little dots of moisture behind. Elizabeth twisted her head, looking around as I walked, her nose pink and her eyes bright with curiosity.
I reached Market Street and turned left, heading for the square. Some booths were still set up in the center, circling the landscaped area where the now useless fountain sat, but most had been moved inside for the winter. The few still in the square had more permanent shelters built around them. A metal shed where a man sold firewood. A large chicken coop where birds squawked incessantly, and a person could trade goods for a few eggs. A shed collected from Lowes during the first cold snap where Pete smoked whatever meat he’d managed to get his hands on, working alone now since his brother had died during the siege.
My attention was drawn to the last one when the wind slammed into me, bringing with it the savory scent of meat. Smoke rose from the small window on the side, getting caught by the breeze and disappearing seconds later, and my stomach growled even though I’d had oatmeal less than an hour ago. Pete knew his way around a smoker, and whatever he was cooking up right now would be amazing. People traveled here to eat his food as much as they did to see our doctors and trade in the market.
I stopped when I reached the shed and stuck my head inside, smiling as I inhaled. “Smells good.”
“Want some?” Pete hauled himself from his chair, his smile barely visible beneath the beard he was as well known for as the meat.
“Maybe for dinner. I’ll need to talk to Kiaya.”
Pete tilted his head. “You know I tend to run out by two.”
“I know, I know.”
Elizabeth shifted, and I bounced her, patting her butt to keep her calm.
“And how is our little namesake today?” Pete asked, leaning closer so he could address Elizabeth.
My daughter smiled, her eyes lighting up. If she wasn’t bundled so tightly, she’d be reaching for his beard, which she loved to tug on. Thankfully, Pete was—as Jenni had put it more than a year ago when they first started dating—a teddy bear.
He waved his fingers in front of Elizabeth’s face, and she laughed. “She doing okay?”
“Oh, yeah. Teething and keeping me up too much, but I can’t complain.”
There was no need to elaborate on the last point since everyone knew why I would never complain. More than nine months had gone by since my daughter’s turbulent arrival, and she was still the only baby to live longer than a couple hours. No one understood why or when it would stop, or what—if anything—we could do. And it made no sense why my daughter had lived when all the others died, but she had, and I thanked God every single day.
Pete gave a solemn nod. “One day, things will right themselves. They have to.”
“I hope so,” I said, taking a step back. “I’ll let you know about the meat in a little bit.”
“You know where to find me,” he said.
I gave a little wave before stepping back outside into the cold day.
I crossed the square, my gaze unconsciously moving to the barricade at the west end of Main Street. It was farther down the road than it used to be, just past the courthouse, which we’d managed to take back shortly after the first cold snap this past November. That was also when we’d decided our settlement needed a name. Troy was the town we lived in, but there were other groups in the area, and we’d wanted a way to distinguish ourselves. So, we’d held a meeting and suggestions had been made, and when it was finally been put to a vote, the decision had been unanimous.
Elizabethtown
That anyone would suggest naming this place after my daughter had never occurred to me, so I’d been totally shocked when someone—a man I didn’t even know—had gotten to his feet and declared it was the perfect name for our little town. He’d argued that she was the first baby born in this new world that hadn’t died, and as far as we knew, she might be the only one to ever survive. I’d expected resistance, but to my shock, people around me had begun to nod in agreement, and after that every other suggestion was quickly shot down. Even Peterstown, which had been suggested by Peters himself. So, Elizabethtown it became.
Crazy.
Even if the settlement wasn’t named after her, my daughter would have been a celebrity since she was the only baby, and we never left the house without being stopped by at least a few people. Everyone wanted to make sure she was healthy and hear about any new milestones she might have reached. It was sweet, but not always welcome. No one cared if I was in a bad mood or didn’t feel like talking. It didn’t matter to anyone that I might have somewhere to be or it was past Elizabeth’s bedtime. They seemed to think she belonged to everyone living inside these walls, not just Devon and me. Which at times could be downright irritating.
