Until the End of the World (Book 2): And After Read Free

usually deter her from doing asinine things like fighting six Lexers who could be ignored. Unlike her, I don’t have a death wish. She listens to me. Occasionally.
    “I’ll do my best. Now, come on, or we’ll be accused of shirking our duties.”
    Peter drapes his arm across my shoulders while we walk. It’s not awkward, even with our past. In the past year he’s become one of my closest friends. I can tell him anything, the way I can with Penny and Nelly. Sometimes I tell him more; the Peter who never discussed anything profound is practically a philosopher now.
    “Thanks, Cassandra.”
    “Welcome, Petey.”
    He squeezes my shoulder. Peter’s the only person left in the world who calls me Cassandra, but I’m the only person who has ever called him Petey.
    We come face to face with over a hundred frozen and thawing zombies at the base of the hill. Some of the half-thawed ones are dead—really, finally dead. A few are thawed enough to gurgle and twitch, but the below-freezing nights seem to have kept their cores frozen. Dead or undead, they all get a spike in the eye or a knife in the head. I move to where one slumps against a tree like he’s taking a rest on a nature walk. Something black and fuzzy grows on the gray skin of his cheek. “Hey, look at this,” I call out.
    Everyone peers at the mossy growth. Adrian scrapes off a patch with his knife, revealing spongy flesh beneath. I hand him a latex glove. “Put some of it in this.”
    At the sound of my voice the Lexer’s eyes shift in their sockets. It sees all the potential food and an urgent sound rises from its lipless mouth.
    “Oh, shut up,” Ana says. She uses her spike to make a hole in his skull and flashes me perfect white teeth, while Peter flashes me a look that reiterates his concern.
    I follow Adrian to where a dozen of them stood before they succumbed to the cold and punch my spike into an eye socket. The crunching sound used to be disturbing. I’m used to it now, which is disturbing in a different way. Killing things has become just another day at the office. I try not to think about who they once were—like Eric.
    “Here’s more of that moss,” Adrian says. He crouches for a closer look at a bloated, cracked body half-covered with a sweater of black fuzz. “Maybe this is some kind of decay, finally.”
    “Maybe something’s finally going to eat them ,” I say. “Maybe something’s evolving along with the infection.”
    “I hope so.” Adrian looks up, knife in hand and eyes hopeful. “Nothing’s ever grown on them before. It’s got to mean something.”
    We spin at Toby’s yell of surprise and race to where a group of fifteen Lexers lay in the snow. Toby had been stepping his way through the bodies, spike in hand, but now he’s on the ground kicking at one that’s managed to sink its mouth into the cloth above his boot. Adrian slams his knife into the base of its skull and pulls Toby to safety.
    Toby clutches his calf, and when he finally releases his hands, we gasp at the rip in his cargo pants. He leans back on his elbows and screws his eyes shut. “Did it break the skin? Just shoot me in the head if it did, man. I don’t want to know it’s coming.”
    “There’s no blood on your pants.” I kneel down and pull my knife off my belt as the others gather round, their faces pale. “I can’t see the skin. I have to cut it wider.”
    Toby nods, eyes still closed. He’s a lot calmer than I would be, although he’s trembling so badly that I have to steady his leg when I slice the cloth. The marks are deep and some are more red than pink, but there’s no opening, no blood. I inspect carefully, and Ana crouches for a second opinion. Even one tiny break in the skin might mean certain death.
    “You’re okay,” I say in a rush. I don’t know what I would’ve said had he not been, and I’m relieved I still don’t. “It didn’t break the skin. But don’t move. Let’s wash off any virus in case it does open