We take a step out of the cramped tunnel into a small cave. The walls are smooth, arching away and above us.

"What was that box?" Finn asks.

Melinda looks nervous, but says, "The siren alarm system. We modified it a little."

"Tampering with a Haven's alarm system is a federal offense."

"When Haven 1 bothers to check on us, they can drag me to jail," the alderman drawls. "In the meantime, I'm doing what's needed to keep my people alive."

"How?" I ask.

Melinda smiles and leads us into a man-made tunnel. We walk, and I'm silent, staring at the little caves that branch off. There's room after room of private residence, a large square filled with weapons, an entire wing of medics and kitchens. They all spiral inward, into a tightened grid of rooms protected by more soldiers.

"What is this?" I ask, needing to hear it.

"It's the world's biggest Hale Hall. It's what we can fall back to, if there is ever a ma.s.sive breech. It's where we keep our children to keep them safe."

"It's a ma.s.sive tomb." Finn says, flatly.

She flushes. "It's the best chance we have."

"And what happens when you come out? When you run out of food and think it's safe and poke your happy little head out only to find you were wrong and the infects are still right there? What happens then? Hiding doesn't work."

"Fighting doesn't either," Melinda snaps, glaring at him.

"That's why you don't do either," he says, quietly. "You can't live in fear of the day the zombies batter down your door-that isn't living. You live in spite of that day. You live because everything in our screwed-up world says we can't and we shouldn't and f.u.c.k them." He looks around and shakes his head. "But this isn't living. Hiding in a hole is just a slow way to die."

He turns away from her, his gaze hitting mine. "I'm leaving, Nurrin. Come or don't. I'm done here."

Chapter 14.

New Plans and Old Behaviors I don't hesitate this time. Truth be told, there isn't even a choice to be made. Collin trusts Finn, and that means I do. I might hate him, might want to stab him with my knife more often than I want to stab an infect, but I trust that following him will take me home. To Collin.

We're halfway back to the house, and more importantly, the truck, when he slides a glance at me from the corner of his eye.

"How far will you go to get home?"

I blink, a little startled. "How far are you thinking?"

A smile twists his lips, and a shiver of dread snakes along my spine. It's never good when Finn looks like that. "We can get out. It's going to be a little trickier, with the gates locked. But it can be done. It will probably take a little more than you're comfortable with."

I frown at him. "Are you taking me back to the kink club?"

He snorts. "Never."

I shrug and look forward, my shoulders relaxing a little. "Whatever you do, it can't be worse than that, right?"

Something glitters in his gaze, and I look away. "Be careful, little girl. You have no idea how bad it can be."

I ignore the chill that chases its way down my spine and start walking again. "So what do we need to do?"

He shrugs. "For now, nothing. Tomorrow, I need a little time."

Chapter 15.

Visiting Friends Finn is sleeping or gone when I slip out. I'm not surprised to find that there's fresh coffee and two slices of bacon and cheese on a piece of burnt toast.

Clearly, Finn's breakfast skills need work.

I grab the weird sandwich and coffee and head out. As I jog down the stairs, I hear the distinct sound of the door locking behind me. Through a sheer force of will, I resist the urge to look behind me. I don't know what game he's playing or why this is important. But I know his goal is to get out of 18, and I can totally get behind that.

The Haven is abnormally quiet. People are retreating as the horde gets closer. Last night, sirens rang every hour, a different note letting the citizens know how close the horde was and how long they had-we had. I glance at the napkin my sandwich was wrapped in and hope that noon won't be too late.

There's no answer when I knock on Jesse's door, but I can hear the distant clang of tools on metal and muttered cursing. I grin and head around the corner of the mechanic's shop. The back yard is a junkyard of dead cars, broken into pieces and sprawled across the land. Old tires and pans of sticky, black oil are stacked to one side, and there's a narrow, curving path amongst the car parts. I follow it, deeper into the jungle of mechanics, until I hit a wall of solid razor wire.

"Jesse?" I yell, and I hear a m.u.f.fled thud.

"Ren?"

"Let me in!" I shout. I hear a few tools rattle around before the wall of bladed metal parts and I crawl through.

Jesse is smudged with dirt and oil, his hair covered by a ratty bandana, and he looks startled-and a little bit nervous to see me. "What are you doing here?"

"We can't leave the Haven, and Finn is driving me crazy," I say glibly, "so I thought I'd visit the one friend I have in the Haven. Do you mind?"

He grins. "Not if you don't mind me working."

I look at the motorcycle. It's a little crotch rocket, like the one we rode out of h.e.l.lsp.a.w.n on, and I c.o.c.k my head at it. "Who is it for?"

"O'Malley. The Porsche financed this, so I'm getting it ready for him."

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"Upgrades on the tires, holsters for his guns and crossbow, zombie repellent leg guards and shatter proof wind shield. I'm adding bags made of zom armor, and a wraparound shield for whoever rides b.i.t.c.h."

I blink, staring at the una.s.suming little bike. "Something that little can handle that much weight?" I ask doubtfully.

"I reinforced her structure. And redistributed the gas tank, so she can go longer distances. She won't be as nimble as his last bike, and she might be a little exhausting to handle, but she'll do. And it's a h.e.l.luva lot safer than the last bike. That was suicide on wheels."

An accurate description. Not that this will do a d.a.m.n bit of good if we hit a horde like the one on the way back from Vegas.

"How long have you known Finn?" I ask.

Jesse hesitates for a heartbeat, long enough that I know he shouldn't be talking to me. But Finn sent me here, after all. He had to know I'd ask questions he would rather I didn't.

Too d.a.m.n bad. I'll take whatever information I can pry out of Jesse.

"Since he was about twenty. He left the war before it was over. Went to Haven 1 to see what he could do there. But he made enemies. Finn isn't the most patient man in the world, and he was younger then, impetuous. He was a decorated war veteran, but he was also making serious demands-and at the time, no one wanted to hear from a sixteen-year-old that we should abandon the East. And he didn't have the protection of his father anymore. So after a while, he left. The president gave him free pa.s.sage to wherever he wanted to go. He headed west. Took him a year or so to figure out where he wanted to be-I met him when he landed here briefly. But whatever Finn was looking for, it wasn't here. About a year after that, I heard he settled in 8."

I'm stuck on something he said earlier-not that he was in multiple Havens before he landed in h.e.l.lsp.a.w.n. "Pa.s.s me that wrench?" he asks. I look blankly at the pile of tools, but can't see them. I can't think. Something warm and rough touches my face, and I jerk, startled.

"Hey," Jesse murmurs, softly. "What's going on in that pretty head, Ren?"

His lips are soft and full-I noticed that the first day I met him. Full and utterly kissable. And it could take my mind off Finn, off whatever he's hiding from me. I lean forward and catch them with my own. For a second, Jesse is still, startled. But then his hands come around me, pull me tight to him, his lips moving against mine. He nibbles at my bottom lip, almost a tickle, and I shiver. I want to feel more than I do. I deepen the kiss, licking at his lips and into his mouth, teasing over his teeth, a soft thrust and retreat.

Nothing. Absolutely f.u.c.king nothing.

I pull away, and I almost apologize. Jesse touches his lips, staring at me with surprise in his eyes. "Wow," he says softly.

I look away. "Yeah."

Chapter 16.

Reflections and Interruptions It's awkward, sitting with him, when I can feel his eyes on me, the hunger in them no longer hidden. But I do, because Finn made it clear when he needed me to return. He talks about cars, and I pretend to be interested; I talk about Dustin, and he pretends he isn't jealous. It works nicely for the both of us, honestly. My nerves are stretched tight when it's finally time to leave, an anxious thrumming that makes my knee jerk.

"I should go," I say, finally, standing.

Jesse stands with me, watching me with curious eyes. "You don't like Finn."

I shrug. "He's been part of my life for a long time, not that I ever really understood him. But no, honestly. I don't like him. He's annoying as h.e.l.l, and he drives me f.u.c.king crazy-he refuses to answer any questions, yet he demands that I trust him, even when what he's suggesting is completely crazy."

"Like right now? You being here?"

I stop short and stare at Jesse. A smile quirks his lips up, but he doesn't seem p.i.s.sed.

"You should go, Ren. Finn is waiting."

I nod awkwardly and go on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "You aren't a bad guy, Jesse."

He laughs quietly at that as he pulls aside the razor wire and I slip out.

I find the priest a few blocks from Jesse's garage, but not close to Finn. I hesitate in the street, and two more in gray robes drift up behind me. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to walk forward. "What does she want?" I ask the giant bodyguard.

He doesn't say anything, just turns and glides down the sidewalk. I want to bolt-want to race back to the relative safety of Finn's home. Instead, I grit my teeth and follow the priests of the Blessed Order.

Lori is a few streets over, sitting on the sidewalk, with her robes billowed out around her. Even on the dirty street, she looks like a perfectly made-up doll, a tiny porcelain creature with flawless features and impossibly perfect hair.

"Sit with me, pretty girl."

"I like standing," I answer, and her teeth flash in her tiny face. It's not a smile. Gritting my teeth, I lower myself down next to her.

"Tell me. Do you think he's right? That the zombies are adapting and searching for new food-that they are deliberately targeting the West, trying to isolate us as they did in the East?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Giving the zombies thought and cunning seems a little far-fetched and reaching. But Finn believes it, and my brother agrees. I trust my brother. I suppose that's where I stand."

"But you aren't doing anything to help Haven 18."

"What you do to survive is no one's business but your own. We have our own priorities," I snap shortly.

The little priestess smiles, and this time, there is genuine amus.e.m.e.nt there. It's not a grimace or a threat. "That I do believe. Finn O'Malley has always had unusual priorities."

I sneer. "The Order hardly has the right to point fingers about odd values. You kill humans."

"We recreate the sacred days," she says with calm conviction.

That's what terrifies me about Lori. Not that she's of the Order-Omar didn't scare me and he is their High Priest. It's that she believes, where others don't. Omar is there for power-Lori's here for conviction.

I glance at my watch, p.i.s.sed that it's already almost twelve thirty. Whatever he wanted, I'm late. I stand up and dust off my pants. "As much as I enjoy chatting, I have to go."

"Yes. Yes, I suppose you should. Tell him that I allowed it."

My blood runs cold, and I go still, staring at her. Lori's eyes gleam with madness. I shiver despite the heat. "What did you say?"

"I am letting you go. Because for whatever reason, O'Malley wants you. Remind him that he owes me-not the Order, but me-for my leniency. I will save you, as long as I can, for the sake of Finn's goodwill toward the Order."

I don't understand-it doesn't make sense. None of it does, but then nothing around Finn ever does. I scramble away from her, and the priests that surround us drift back, letting us past. Lori laughs, her voice chasing me down the street. "Tell him what I say. The Order has marked you, First!"

I break into a run.

Part 4.