Jayson

Eli couldn't have possibly known about Specialist Hart. That was the only friend Eric's ghost would refer to; his death hadn't been anyone's fault (especially not Jeannie's). But that young soldier who'd never made it home had weighed heavy on Jayson's heart since the moment his truck exploded in the desert overseas.

But he couldn't worry about her right now, or Eric's ghost Eli appeared to communicate with. Jayson couldn't distract himself with the possibilities; he needed to get Taylor and the rest of their group to safety.

"Eli, what are you on?" he asked, too shaken to think properly.

His new friend continued to stare into nothing, not seeing Jayson or anyone else. "You and your friends need to leave. You and Monica can't be seen here."

"But Taylor—"

"Will survive," Eli finished in an eerie tone. "Your friends will die if you or Monica stay."

When Jayson glanced at Diego, he noticed the man tremble as he signed the Catholic cross.

He switched his focus to Monica. "I can't leave him again."

With unexpected strength, Eli grabbed Jayson's arm and forcefully dragged him out of the room. "Get in the truck and go! Eric says Taylor will be fine."

Pain ripped through Jayson's body, pain which he couldn't determine came from his broken rib or the heartache from hearing Eric's name. Even more, he couldn't leave Taylor again. Benson would destroy him.

"Please," he begged, "We can figure something out for Taylor."

Eli ignored him and shoved Jayson into the back of the truck. "You can't. And if you stay, you'll be responsible for everyone's death. There is no other way."

Monica and Abby joined them, waiting just outside and keeping a distance from Eli. Diego hung back as well, glancing between the truck and the motel.

When Jayson tried to jostle his way out, Eli engaged the child safety lock and slammed the door behind him. He turned to give orders to Monica and Abby, but his voice was muffled through the glass.

The women remained hesitant until Diego stumbled to the vehicle and wrenched open the driver's door and dropped a set of keys on the seat. Looking at Jayson with resignation behind his wide brown eyes, he said, "I will stay with him. Benson won't be surprised if I'm caught with Taylor. Keep the girls safe and find that cure."

"Benson will kill you," Jayson objected weakly. He didn't like Diego, but that didn't mean he wanted something bad to happen to him. He was still a decent guy who deserved better.

Diego shrugged as he placed his handgun on the seat with the keys. "Probably. But the casualties will be minimal if I stay behind. If I die, it'll be with a clear conscience, and our friends have a chance to make the world better. If I don't..." He sighed. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep Taylor safe. That's what we all want, right?"

Damn him.

He had no more time to argue; Eli ushered Abby into the back through the other door while Monica climbed into the front seat, carefully moving the gun as she grabbed the keys. While she did that, Gloria opened the passenger front door and deposited a small crate onto the seat.

"It's not much, but hopefully you won't need it," she said in a tired voice. "There are some antibiotics in case any of you get wounded, and some basic medicine. I will pray for a safe journey."

Monica inserted the key into the ignition. "Thank you."

With the seconds counting down to their departure, Jayson swallowed his pride and faced Diego. "If he wakes up, will you tell him I'm sorry?"

His eyes watered, making his vision blurry, but caught the motion of Diego's nod. "You got it. Take care of them."

Jayson returned the gesture. He was trapped inside this stupid vehicle, hindered by a busted rib. There was no choice but to put his trust in Diego and pray for the best.

Shouts carried across the parking lot, and Eli knocked on Jason's window. He rolled it down until it stopped a quarter of the way and peered over the glass.

Eli's gaze focused on him, back to normal. "Have faith, JR. Whatever you do, don't stop for anyone. You keep driving until you reach your destination."

He didn't elaborate or indicate whether he remembered what had just happened. With a final wave, he turned away and jogged toward the gate.

Diego backed away next, closing the door behind Monica. Then he tapped the roof and returned to the motel room porch, watching them through the windshield.

With a shuddering breath, Monica buckled her seatbelt and backed out of the gravel parking space.

Squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his fist, Jayson rested his forehead on the glass. He never got to apologize, and now he'd lost his chance. Worse, he had Hart's and Eric's ghosts on his conscience, both as clear as the last time he'd seen them.

Tears rolled off his nose, and each breath hurt more than the last. "I'm sorry," he breathed. He wasn't sure who deserved his apology more—maybe all of them for various reasons—and he'd never know the truth. Whether Diego would tell Taylor or if Hart and Eric existed in an afterlife. If his sister in arms ever truly forgave him for not avoiding that roadside bomb.

Muffled shouts continued from outside, but Jayson tuned it all out while Monica drove. He grunted when they hit a bump, and the atmosphere was thick with tense silence.

Time passed in a blur; Jayson had no idea how long they'd been on the road until voices crackled over the radio.

"We're coming up on the encampment now. There are people at the gate. Over."

"Continue mission, Alpha One. Avoid casualties if possible, but shoot to kill if necessary. Over."

"Roger that. Over and out."

The teenage girl sniffed beside Jayson and curled into a ball within her corner.

Monica drew a shuddering breath but said nothing.

At any moment now, those soldiers would storm that tiny group. They wouldn't stand a chance if they resisted.

On one hand, Jayson wished they'd never driven through. But then Taylor's odds of survival would have become zero, and Jayson would never have left. On the other, he feared for Eli, Gloria, and the others who'd shown him a great kindness. No matter what, everyone he met suffered while he continued to cheat Fate.

"Monica, we need to go off road soon and lay low," he ordered quietly. "They'll be looking for headlights once they realize you're not there."

She shook her head. "We need to keep going."

"And we will; when it's not dark. We're in more danger at night than the day."

"What about the other bad guys?" Abby asked. "Strangers out there looking to rob us or zombies on the road? My stepdad barely got us to that place alive."

She suddenly stopped talking and faced the window, shaking with stifled sobs.

"I'll turn off the headlights and drive slow," Monica said. "The automatic lights should be enough for now, but we can't stop until we put more distance between us and the encampment."

Eli's warning rang in Jayson's ears, and he dropped the subject. Besides, if he'd learned anything over the course of six years, it was that Monica was stubborn as a mule and didn't take crap from anyone. This was a losing battle.

Several minutes passed before the radio came to life again. "Home base, we've entered the camp. Multiple casualties, two of four targets acquired. Do you copy?"

A pause. "Roger, Alpha One. Status on the others? Over."

"Unknown. One is seriously injured, and the other surrendered peacefully. We are clearing every building now. Over."

This time, the time to respond took longer. "Copy that, Alpha One. Bring the targets back to home base. We can't waste resources on the others in the middle of the night. Over."

"Roger that. Over and out."

Jayson couldn't decide if he should be relieved by their ridiculous luck or horrified that Taylor and Diego were back in enemy hands. Hopeful that a cure was still possible or nauseous over multiple deaths.

Monica pressed the heel of her palm into her face. "I hope we didn't make a mistake leaving him." Her voice trembled with emotion, but she held a steady course on the empty road.

Truthfully, Jayson didn't have an answer. Only a fraction of hope that somehow, they'd all wake up one day from this horrible nightmare and find each other again. For his friends' sake though, he forced himself to remain strong.

"Taylor is tougher than we all give him credit for." He recalled the day of the apocalypse began, when Taylor had gone into that convenience store—terrified out of his mind—to rescue Monica. He'd had no formal training or survival skills, was probably everyone's first pick to die in any disaster, yet had outlived them all. He was a fighter in his own way. "Let's honor him by reaching our destination and finding that cure. Let's survive for him, Eric, Jeannie, and everyone else we've lost."

A sharp sob preceded an incoherent acknowledgment. Then she hiccuped and nodded. "That's all we can do, right?"

The rest of the ride passed in despair and uncertainty as the town disappeared behind them.