Chapter 30: The Distance

BELLA

"Jasper! You can't do this!" I begged, as he backed out of the room.

"They've been gone four days. FOUR DAYS, Jasper. They need our help!" I shouted at him.

"They didn't shoot off the flare. They don't want us to go after them," Jasper said, firmly. "You're not going anywhere. It's my job to protect this place."

"Maybe they can't shoot off the flare!" I yelled, trying to push my way past him. "It's my decision!"

"No," he said and shoved me back into the room and then shut and braced the door with something on the other side.

"YOU ASSHOLE!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

"LET ME OUT OF HERE!" I yelled, banging on the door. "ALICE! ESME! LET ME OUT! I HAVE TO FIND HIM! PLEASE!"

I pounded on the door until my hands hurt. Then, I just crumbled in a heap on the floor.

That morning when they still hadn't come back, I started to pack my things. The day before, I'd been scared, but mostly upset because Edward had broken his promise and hadn't set off the flare. But today, on the fourth day, I was absolutely petrified.

It would be an understatement to say that I was angry when Jasper told Rosalie and me that we weren't allowed to go after them.

"You have no idea where you're going. You'll be wandering around blindly, attracting all kinds of attention. If the dead don't get you, James will," he said, flatly.

Rosalie argued that we were just as capable of protecting ourselves as the rest of our family.

"That's not saying much when a lot of us aren't here…" he responded.

With a burst of anger, Rose slapped him which caught him by surprise, but it didn't slow him down.

When Rose picked up her backpack, Jasper pulled it away from her.

With an angry growl, Rose tried to slap him again, but this time he was prepared for it.

Instead of backing off, he grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back.

"I'm doing this for your own fucking good," he growled.

"Jasper, don't hurt her," Esme, said carefully. I could tell that she was just as unsure of Jasper as the rest of us.

"I won't if she stops fighting me," he snapped.

But she didn't stop fighting.

When it was clear that Rose wasn't going to give in, Jasper let go of her arm only to grab it again and drag her with him towards his house.

We all rushed after him, not knowing what he was about to do. He was always a wild card, never doing what you expected.

I realized the minute he stepped into his kitchen what he was about to do.

Rushing forward, I grabbed his arm, but he shoved me away.

Without a word, he threw open the door to the basement and pushed Rose in.

"Jasper..." Alice said, as he slammed the door and locked it. "Isn't this a little extreme?"

"This is my job. I was against the guys going because they were putting us at risk. Now, it's my job to take care of us. I'll do whatever I have to do, no matter how extreme," he said, bluntly.

Then, he looked squarely at me and said, "Do I have to do anything else extreme, Bella?"

I was scared of him in that moment.

He didn't have the crazed look in his eyes that he'd had when he attacked me months ago, but the lack of emotion that he showed now was scarier.

I shook my head timidly in response. However, inside I told myself that no matter how scared I was of him, I'd bide my time and when he wasn't paying attention I'd climb over the wall.

It wasn't until late afternoon that I had my chance.

Jasper was busy digging potatoes and carrots for supper. Thankfully, Alice's pregnancy cravings were for foods that we actually had. She obsessed over anything starchy, like potatoes. If she ate nothing but potatoes she'd be a happy woman, but we all forced her to eat more of a variety.

Before leaving for the garden, Jasper had a whispered conversation with Esme. I knew he was telling her to keep an eye on me, but I wasn't going to let her slow me down.

The minute he was gone, I started making my preparations.

"Bella…" Esme said, gently. "Jasper's right. It's too risky."

"If you knew that Carlisle was nearby and in danger of being killed, wouldn't you do anything to get to him?"

I knew that bringing up Carlisle was a low blow, but I felt like it was the only way that she'd let me leave.

"What if he comes back and you're outside the walls?" she asked with a pained look on her face.

"I'll follow the main route through town. I'll even leave signs along the way," I said, looking around for something to use.

Grabbing a table cloth from the dining room, I tore strips off of it to use as markers.

"I don't think it's a good idea…" Esme said again, but I could tell that she wasn't going to stop me.

Pulling my backpack onto my back, I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

"Shouldn't you get Rosalie too?" she asked.

"I can't get to her without attracting Jasper's suspicion," I said in frustration because I knew that Rose was going to be furious with me.

With a sad shake of her head, Esme stepped out of the way and let me pass.

Carefully, I slipped out of the house and then made my way silently towards the wall.

I'd almost made it over the wall when a hand clamped down on my ankle.

"Bad decision…" Jasper said, jerking me backwards.

Now, here I was locked in my own bedroom.

It was too high for me to climb out the window which Jasper knew. Still, I was pretty sure that he was somewhere in the house guarding me.

Time moved slowly as I agonized over what was happening to Edward. Did James have him? Was he…? I couldn't even think it.

Just the thought of it brought me to my knees and dissolved me into tears. My world would end if Edward was gone.

At some point, Jasper came to the door and gave me lunch, but he wouldn't speak to me.

How long did he plan on keeping me in here?

He'd have to let me out eventually and then I would go after Edward no matter how long it took.

The day dragged on towards night as I slipped more and more into my thoughts and memories.

"Bella! Edward! Don't you dare track all that mud in here!" Esme scolded.

Edward grabbed me around the waist and yanked me off Esme's porch seconds from safety.

Esme closed the door with a smile as I shrieked when Edward clapped a handful of mud on my head.

Dragging me backwards, Edward laughed at my futile attempts to get away. My feet kept slipping on the rain slick mud, making it impossible to get away.

So as I was slipping and sliding, I grabbed a handful from the ground.

Twisting around in his arms, I grabbed the front of his shorts and shoved the handful of mud inside.

"Oh shit," Edward hissed, letting go.

I cackled in delight at how the tables had turned. As Edward jumped up and down, trying to shake the dirt out of his pants, I attacked.

I jumped on him, knocking him to the ground with a thump.

"Get off, Bella! I can't breathe!" Edward whined.

Instead of listening to him, I began to tickle him mercilessly.

Both of our heads jerked up when we heard a voice above us.

"What are you, twelve?" Emmett said, looking down at us in amusement. "I'm surprised Chris isn't a part of th—"

Before his words were out of his mouth, a gob of mud splattered against the side of his head.

With a crow of triumph, Chris dropped from the large oak tree that was in Esme's front yard.

"Oh, it's on now," Emmett roared, grabbing a handful of mud and chasing after Chris.

"Edward?" a voice called out, pulling me out of my memory.

"Is he here?" the same person spoke.

"What the hell are you talking about? He was with you…" Jasper said.

"Oh god… No..."

I realized at that moment that it was Emmett's voice. My heart started beating wildly in my chest.

Running to the door, I sank to the ground so that I could listen through the gap between the floor and the bottom of the door.

"Why the hell are they here?! You weren't supposed to bring them back with you, only watch them," Jasper snarled.

"I had to..." Emmett said, his voice losing any power. "Have you seriously not seen any sign of Edward?"

"I just said he's not here," Jasper snapped. "He's supposed to be with you. What did you do?"

"Oh no… Oh no…" Emmett said again in a choked voice.

"LET ME OUT!" I shouted pounding on the door.

"What the hell is that? Is that Bella?" Emmett asked in shocked confusion.

"Don't go up there until you explain what's going on," Jasper said.

"Did you lock her up?" Emmett asked, his voice growing angry.

"I had to stop her from doing something stupid, like you and Edward did," Jasper said, bluntly.

"Where's Rose?" Emmett demanded.

"Safe," Jasper said. "Now, talk."

"We were overwhelmed. The south side of the city was full of the dead. Hundreds of them, maybe more. We had to get the herd turned in the opposite direction or else it might have gotten here in less than a day, so we led them out of Camden towards the industrial area. But our truck broke down and we were stranded at a factory. We found some dump trucks but in the process of getting away Edward was cornered by the dead. I don't know what happened. The zombie blood camouflaged the rest of us."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My chest hurt and I could hear my blood thumping in my ears.

"I lost sight of him in the herd... I don't know if… he made it out," Emmett said, and I could hear that he was crying. "I left keys in one of the other dump trucks and prayed that he'd make it back on his own… I didn't want to leave. I searched the herd for him, but he wasn't there. I called for him over and over again, but he never answered…"

After a few minutes of silence, he continued.

"It took us another day to get home because we had to lose the dead that followed the sound of the truck. They're relentless…" Emmett said through his tears.

Another moment of silence followed before Emmett spoke again.

"I have to tell Bella," he finally said.

"She's going to fucking lose it," Jasper said, the sharp edge gone from his voice.

"I know," Emmett said, and then I heard his footsteps as he started up the stairs.

I got up and walked a few steps away from the door.

The door opened slowly as I stood frozen, waiting for him.

Emmett stepped into the room alone, looking twenty years older in his grief.

"Bella…" he began, but before he could say anything else I cracked.

With a cry of rage, I threw myself at him and began hitting him over and over again.

Emmett didn't try to defend himself as I punched, slapped, and scratched every part of him I could reach.

When he slumped to the ground in defeat, I didn't let up. My rage was all consuming.

"YOU LEFT HIM THERE!" I shrieked, my anger only growing when I uttered those words.

"I'm so sorry…" he mumbled over and over again, not even trying to protect his head as I hit him.

Nothing else mattered as I let the rage out. I didn't think I even realized that it was Emmett after a while.

I had no idea who restrained me and held me away from the source of my rage. Whoever it was tried to whisper soothingly in my ear.

But I fought them. I didn't want to be soothed. I wanted Edward.

That was when I started screaming his name until my throat was raw.

He had to be alive. I would know if he was dead. Surely, I would know.

I'd always felt like there was a tether that connected Edward and me together. I always had a sense of where he was and I could still feel it now.

But it could all be just one big lie.

At some point I'd fallen into an exhausted sleep.

Thankfully, in my unconscious state, my mind took me to one of my happier memories with Edward, giving me respite from my grief.

I was reading to him from the first Harry Potter novel. I couldn't believe that he hadn't read any of them.

'Potter, Harry!'

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

'Potter, did she say?'

'The Harry Potter?'

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the Hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

'Hmm,' said a small voice in his ear. 'Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes – and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting … So where shall I put you?'

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, 'Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.'

'Not Slytherin, eh?' said the small voice. 'Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Well, if you're sure – better be GRYFFINDOR!'

"I'd rather be a part of Slytherin."

"No, you wouldn't. Shut up and listen," I said, reaching out and pressing two fingers against Edward's lips.

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole Hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily towards the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, 'We got Potter! We got Potter!'

Instead of quieting down and listening, Edward played some kind of triumphant music on his keyboard as accompaniment, which made me laugh.

Ever since Emmett had found a keyboard in one of the houses and given it to him, Edward had been playing it constantly. He was a very talented musician, but what was even more amazing was how he could compose music. It flowed out of him as easily as breathing.

He'd decided after a few days of having the keyboard that he was going to create a soundtrack of our life. He'd already composed a theme song for Alice which was bubbly and light as well as one for Jasper which had more of a feel like Darth Vader's theme in Star Wars.

Alice loved it, but Jasper just gave him the finger.

The song he'd made for Emmett was loud and blustery, but always with a happy undertone, while Rose's was more subdued but passionate.

He had many for me that he'd play for all my various moods. But the one I loved the most was my lullaby. It was the most beautiful piece of music I'd ever heard.

It was this song that soothed me as my mind tried to cope with what reality was trying to tell me.

EDWARD

The roar of the truck's engine made me cringe as about fifty zombies' heads jerked in my direction.

Before I was even able to pull out of the parking lot, the herd changed directions and were now following me.

What the hell am I going to do? I can't lead them all back home.

I beat my hand against the wheel in frustration.

I couldn't take a direct route home. I had to find a distraction for the herd first.

This wasn't an easy feat. I had to get far enough ahead of them to give me a chance to find something to distract them. Under no circumstances could I allow them to head in the direction of my home.

I continued down the highway, heading away from Camden, looking for some kind of town that I could lose them in. Finally, I saw a sign ahead that said Hampton—5 miles.

But when I finally turned into the town, I realized that I'd made a mistake. The streets were an obstacle course of stalled cars and destroyed buildings.

Forced to slow down, the herd was almost upon me before I even knew it.

"Fuck," I said, trying to look everywhere at once. It was becoming clear to me that I might have to abandon the truck. I was camouflaged from the dead with their blood, so they were being attracted by the noise of the truck, not me.

I made one last ditch effort to get away, but there were always just enough of them that could see me which kept the herd following in my direction. One annoying fact about zombies is that they follow movement, even when it is caused by others of their kind. If a herd notices a group of dead wandering in one direction and there's nothing else moving, they will follow it, which was exactly what was happening now.

With a sigh of defeat, I looked for a place to abandon the truck.

It was going to take me days to get home on foot. Not to mention the dangers that would be waiting for me around every corner.

I saw a block ahead the sign for a grocery store. I decided to leave the truck there with the motor running to attract the dead.

With a burst of speed, I pulled as far ahead of the herd as I could and then turned into the parking lot.

Throwing the truck into park, I jumped out and locked it. Then with the back of my axe, I broke the window, setting off the alarm.

As the dead swarmed the vehicle, I slipped past them and turned in the direction of home.

Two days into my return trip and I was only half-way home.

I'd run out of food a day ago, so hunger and thirst gnawed at me.

Once I was far away from the herd, I looked for a car that I could use but every car either was missing its key or there was no gas left. My luck had run out at the factory.

Something more worrisome was the fact that I had a fever and my stomach wound was so painful that if I even brushed it I nearly doubled over in agony. Clearly, I had one hell of an infection. I tried to clean the wound every night, but it didn't seem to help.

Remembering Bella in her feverish state, I was terrified that soon I'd be hallucinating which was a sure fire way to get myself killed.

Thankfully, I'd found a bottle of water and a Snickers bar in a hardware store where I'd stayed the night. It gave me a little bit of energy to keep going. I desperately hoped that it would be enough to get me the rest of the way home.

On the third day of my return trip, I began to hear and see things that I was pretty sure weren't real.

Sometimes, it was Bella's laugh, but at other times it was my sister calling my name.

When I joined a group of dead who were wandering down the main street, my fevered brain made them all into people I'd known. Friends, teachers, even my father seemed to be wandering with me.

So when I heard voices ahead of me, I thought they were just part of my hallucination.

"Jesus! He's alive! Look at that fucker! He's just walking with them like he's King Corpse, or something…"

"I don't know, Caius. It looks like there's something wrong with him."

I felt like I was missing something, something I should be paying attention to, but I couldn't focus. I just looked blearily at the people ahead of me and kept walking.

"Holy shit!" a voice exclaimed. "Is that Edward? I thought the fucker kicked it after he and Jasper tried to kill us all."

"This is gonna win us some brownie points with James, man."

Two of the men walked forward and grabbed me roughly, causing me to cry out as my stitches pulled painfully.

"Fuck, he's covered in the damn stuff… He reeks," a woman said, sniffing at me as the men dragged me forward.

"Throw him in the back. I'm not gonna risk him turning into one of those things in the cab," one man said.

Grabbing me under the arms, they heaved me into the back of a truck.

Writhing in agony, I was helpless to get away. Bouncing around in the back of the truck caused me to throw up both from the motion and the sharp pain that would hit me with every thump.

But the pain caused my senses to come back into focus. With a surge of fear, I realized that I was with James' guards and they were taking me to him.

I was alone, alone in the dark that had been upon me for some time. I lost track of time. I could have been here a day, a week, I had no idea.

The blindfold kept me from seeing anything, so my other senses were on high alert.

Rope was tightly tied around my wrists and ankles, preventing me from moving anything but my head.

I'd lost feeling in my feet long ago, but my hands still ached. I didn't mind the pain because it kept me from drifting off into a numb haze.

My ears picked up the faintest sound of footsteps.

I knew who was coming and what he was capable of, so I began to struggle against my bindings.

But it was impossible and before I knew it, James was in the room with me, yanking off my blindfold.

I was blinded by the light in the room, but I could feel his presence right next to me.

"Well, well, well, look at what the cat dragged in? Is it my birthday today? I must have lost track," he said with amusement.

My eyes focused on the source of the voice and I was shocked to see how much James had changed.

His messy long blond hair and cold blue eyes hadn't changed, but he was a lot thinner. His face was almost skeletal, skin stretched over bone and his body was all bone and muscle. At first glance, he might have looked frail, but looking more closely it was very apparent that this man was anything but weak and fragile.

"What did you bring me for my birthday, Ed? Or is it time for me to dole out my birthday whoopings?" he asked with a grin that didn't meet his eyes. Instead they burned with a barely contained fury.

I glared back at him, hatred covering my fear.

Neither one of us broke our stare for a moment, but then James pulled his hand back and punched me in the face.

My head snapped back at the blow, but I gritted my teeth and spoke.

"How's the leg, James? I heard my shot did a number on you…" I responded, controlling my voice so the shaking didn't come through.

Whether it was fear or my fever, I was shaking uncontrollably.

"Well, now isn't that interesting. Who did you hear about my leg from? Is there a spy in my camp? Or did you run into one of my deserters?"

When I clamped my mouth shut and wouldn't speak, James hit me in the stomach.

This time I did cry out as it felt like my stitches had just been ripped open.

"You've got a nice little infection going on there, Ed. So don't try to be Mr. Macho. It won't end well for you."

Dragging a chair over to me, he straddled it with the back facing me.

"It's time for us to have a conversation- survivor to survivor. Where's your camp? You're too healthy looking, besides your cut, to not have one." He punctuated the word cut with a jab at my stomach.

Fear took over me then. He wanted to find my home and would loot, hurt and probably kill my family. And he was going to hit me until he got that information.

I glared back at him, refusing to open my mouth.

His grin turned into a vicious smile.

"I'm happy you're choosing this route. Things will be a lot more fun and I owe you a shit load of pain," he said standing up.

I didn't know how many times he hit me after that, each one punctuated by the question, "Where's your camp?"

After a while, I was numb with pain and practically unconscious.

I didn't even notice right away that he'd stopped until I heard a door open and his muffled words.

"Get Doc. I can't have him die before I get what I want."

Blessedly, unconsciousness took me then.

I woke to cold water being poured over me, followed by a vigorous scrubbing.

"What are you doing?" someone demanded.

"I need to get all the corpse blood off of him. I can't risk, any getting into his wound when I re-stitch it," a voice said. "Untie his hands so I can get his back."

"Nice try," the other voice said in wry amusement. "Go ahead and give him his sponge bath."

Another dousing of cold water caused me to gasp and my eyes to fly open.

I was surprised to see a kind set of eyes staring back at me.

I recognized him immediately- the blond hair, the blue eyes, the long straight nose and high cheekbones. Even though he was thinner and more rough-looking than in the photo, there was no doubt that he was Esme's Carlisle.

In shock, I began to speak before thinking.

"Carl—" I began, but then snapped my mouth shut. I'd already let slip that I knew someone who had been a part of James' camp. I couldn't let anyone know that I knew Carlisle. He was quite possibly my only hope of getting out of here.

However, when Carlisle's eyes widened and then turned questioning, I knew he'd understood what I was going to say.

Thankfully, he didn't question me on it. Instead he said, "Ah, you're awake. I'm Carlisle. What's your name?"

"This isn't a social visit, Doc. Just patch him up. It doesn't have to be pretty."

Carlisle's eyes shifted nervously towards my captor before looking back at me.

As he started checking me over for serious injuries before focusing on my stomach, all sense of nervousness evaporated from him as he immersed himself in his doctor role.

"Okay. I'm going to have to cut away the torn stitches and re-do them. Getting them out is probably going to be more painful than putting them in because you have quite an infection."

I felt all the blood drain from my face at the thought. They'd been pretty fucking painful putting in.

Silently, he cut away my blood stained stitches, pulling them from my wound.

Amazingly, beyond a stifled whimper, I managed to not make a sound.

Not only did I not want to show weakness in front of my captor that was looming over Carlisle and me, but I was also afraid that I'd talk. In my feverish state, I worried that I'd say something that would betray my family.

Once the stitches were done and wrapped, Carlisle offered me a pill, along with a drink of water.

"James didn't say anything about giving him water…" my captor said, grabbing Carlisle's arm.

"I need to kill the infection which means he needs an antibiotic," Carlisle said sharply. "James wants me to treat him? Well, that's what I'm doing."

The man let go of Carlisle's arm and stepped back.

Putting the pill in my mouth, Carlisle offered me some water which I gratefully gulped down. But before too long, the man yanked the bottle away.

"That's enough," he said. "I'll get someone to escort you back to your cell."

The minute the guard stepped towards the door, I looked at Carlisle and mouthed, "I know Esme."

All the colour drained from his face and then he flushed red as a myriad of emotions flooded him. I saw hope and excitement, but then fear and despair cross his face as his eyes looked towards our guard.

"Alive?" he mouthed, when he looked back at me.

I nodded.

With a small sad smile, he looked at me sincerely and mouthed, "thank you."

When another man came to get him, he spoke to the two of them. "I need to see this man again this evening for more medicine."

"That's up to James. He might not still be alive this evening. So let's not think that far ahead," the new guy said.

Carlisle looked at me helplessly as they dragged him out of the room.