Where We Go | Book Three

25. Testing My Patience

Inside the truck, the rain pounded against the metal and hammered the loudest song it could. I became mesmerised by the patterns and the way the liquid fell at different speeds. The drops slid down the glass, racing each other to the bottom of the frame. 

We were parked by the woodshed near the western gate, the gate Tom had said nobody would pay any attention to if we were to leave. Outside, Chris and Pilot were talking, their reactions much more animated than I would expect for a casual goodbye.

"I hope you've got a plan," I said to Ben in the driver's seat as his hands tightened around the wheel. He was distracted watching the pair, but I knew he wasn't paying attention.

He barely turned his head, the corner of his lip lifting only a fraction. "I've always got a plan."

I hesitated, watching the rain against the windshield for a moment before I spoke. "I know this isn't just about the cure anymore," I said.

His head turned, brows furrowing like I'd caught him doing something he shouldn't. "What do you mean?"

I moved my hand to cover his. "You're looking for Will."

He slumped back in his seat, his shoulders dropping like he'd just lost a heavy weight. "I can't lose him again," his voice cracked. "He's the only family I've got left. If I lost him for good, I- I don't know what I'd do."

"I know," I whispered. "I hope we find him too." I pointed outside to the couple who were still arguing. "What do you think they're talking about?" The sound of the rain against the windows carried their voices away so it was only their lips that were moving, and their figures began to blur against the rain-soaked window.

"Pilot doesn't think Chris should be helping us if it puts his life in danger," he replied. "I heard them talking about it earlier... Clearly, they didn't come to an agreement."

"Pilot isn't coming with us?"

On cue, the backdoor to the truck swung open and Chris jumped inside, slamming the door shut behind him. He shook off his wet hair before pulling on his seatbelt, not saying a word. Outside, Pilot's back was to us as he stormed off towards the hotel.

Ben raised his brows. "Evidently not."

I twisted in my seat. "Is everything okay?"

"Perfectly fine," he grunted.

"What did Pilot say?"

He lifted his head. "He said good luck." When neither of us moved, he raised a brow. "Can we go?"

Ben reacted like a soldier taking orders. He twisted the key in the ignition, and the car purred to a start. He took a moment to compose himself and his fingers gripped around the wheel as he took slow, steady breaths. 

As if on cue, beside us, the gates opened just wide enough for us to slip through unnoticed into the night.

The sky was pitch black and only the low glare of the headlights lit the roads. The Infected would always become more awake at night. I used to think there was a part of their intuition that knows humans have an irrational fear of the dark. Now, I realise, it's because hunting is easier when the prey can't see you.

"What are the chances of actually finding this woman?" Chris asked from the back seat.

"There's no guarantee she's still alive," Ben replied nonchalantly. "But the lab, on the other hand. If the lab is still standing, then we've got everything we need."

I heard Chris shift. "I hope it's not just me that's terrified of what comes next," he almost whispered. "I feel like I lied to Pilot when I told him we'd be back by morning."