Page 64 of Romancing in Rot

He looks in the direction his group went, then at the undead gathering farther down the street, then at me. He’s trying so hard not to look like a child. He turns to leave.

“Wait,” I say.

Everyone turns.

Lyla’s brows lift, but she doesn’t stop me. She and Jacob take care of the few undead in Luis’s path.

I pull my bag off my shoulder and step toward him. Leon shifts with me, close enough that I can feel him at my back, but he doesn’t interfere. I hold it out to him. It’s not much. A bottle of water. Two protein bars. A small pack of crackers Poppy complained were stale. A bandage roll Trish is absolutely going to yell at me about later.

Luis looks at the bag like I’ve lost my mind.

Maybe I have.

“Why are you giving me this?” he asks.

His voice cracks on the last word.

He’s thin. Too thin.

Fear makes kids wear the same face. Too old around the eyes. Too careful with their hands. Too ready to run.

I shrug, forcing my voice to stay even. “Because we all need help sometimes. I have a daughter about the same age as you and I’d want someone to do the same for her if she was in this situation.”

His grip loosens on the walkie. He eyes the bag, guarded and aching. He isn’t a lookout or a hostage or bait in a city full of monsters.

He’s just a kid.

“Thank you,” he says, shouldering my bag.

I nod.

He turns to go, then stops. His shoulders tense before he looks back at me. “Don’t go deeper into the city.”

“Why?” I ask.

Luis looks down the alley, then toward the skyline. His face tightens, and he seems to listen for something the rest of us can’t hear.

“Luis,” I say softly. “If there’s something out there that could get my daughter killed, I need you to tell me.”

“It’s just . . .” He swallows. “Don’t follow anyone calling for help.”

The alley goes still around us.

“What do you mean?” Jacob asks, voice gentle enough to surprise me.

“They use voices,” he says. “Recordings. They make it sound like someone’s hurt. A kid. A woman. Someone trapped.”

Something cold slides down my spine.

Trish mutters, “Well, that’s not ominous.”

“Who are they?” I ask.

He steps back. “I have to go.”

Then he takes off sprinting. He disappears around the corner in seconds, footsteps fading into the groans around us.

I turn back to the group and meet Leon’s eyes.