Page 153 of Romancing in Rot

Driven.

My hand tightens against Clair’s back.

Someone or something pushed them toward us.

Across camp, Carlos has stopped moving too, attention locked on the same stretch of trees.

He knows.

The horde didn’t just find us.

And that means we need to leave before whatever sent them decides to come see what survived.

THIRTY

SERIOUS FIGHTERS

CLAIR

We leave the old camp before the bodies start drawing more trouble.

The dead are useful that way. Horrifying, yes. Traumatizing, obviously. But also very committed to making a bad situation worse. A pile of fresh corpses, gunfire, and blood-soaked dirt is basically a dinner bell with a smell.

We settle in an industrial stretch on the edge of another neighborhood, far enough from the last fight that the gunfire shouldn’t carry, close enough to the mall that Leon’s plan can finally start taking shape. The streets here are wide and cracked, lined with old brick buildings, loading docks, busted chain-link fences, and weeds pushing through the pavement like nature has started repossessing things.

The next morning, Lyla gathers everyone near the vehicles.

“All right,” she says, unfolding the wrinkled map across Lucy’s hood. “According to Leon, recon first. Nobody plays hero. Nobody starts the war early. We get eyes on the mall, count bodies, look for entrances, exits, fuel, generators, patrol patterns, and anything that might ruin Leon’s totally-normal-and-not-as-fun-as-my-plan-would-have-been plan.”

Leon pulls the brim of his green baseball hat lower, hiding his eye roll.

I tap the small pile of supplies at my feet. “While you do that, I’ll start building our little surprises for the mall people.”

Lyla points toward the map. “Poppy, Luis, Earl, Edith, and Barbara stay with the vehicles and keep everything ready for a quick getaway tomorrow. Clair builds. The rest of us move in, get eyes on the place, and get back before anyone at that mall realizes we’re coming.”

She pauses and turns to Leon. “Did I cover everything, my good sir?”

Leon nods without looking her way.

Carlos folds his arms. “They’ll have people watching the roads.”

“Which is why we’re not using the roads,” Lyla says.

Leon taps the map twice, then points to the alleys cutting behind the warehouses. Jacob translates, “ ‘In quiet. Out quiet.’ ”

Everyone nods, and they all turn to head out.

Leon gives me one more kiss, quick but thorough, then turns to join the group.

He’s barely taken three steps when Poppy calls, “Leon?”

He stops instantly.

Poppy shifts on her feet, suddenly shy. “Can you come here for a sec?”

He walks back, careful and steady, like approaching a deer that might bolt. Poppy motions for him to lean down, and he does. My heart squeezes so hard it hurts. This man, huge and armed and terrifying when he needs to be, bends without hesitation because my daughter asks him to. No pride. No impatience. No acting like she’s silly or small.

Just Leon.