Forever Between (Between Life and Death Book 2) by Ann Christy

she didn’t go means there’s more to the story.
    “And?” I prompt.
    “There’s a big crowd of deaders.”
    “Ah,” I say, because there’s nothing more I can say to that. “What do you want to do?”
    She glances behind me quickly. Jon is playing in the central area at the rear of the buildings. This used to be where trucks came up to the various buildings, so it’s wide, and has good visual shielding from anyone who might pass on the street, be they human or otherwise. I know she’s worrying about him, about what would happen if it was just him and I left. And she’s weighing that against the possibility that there is a person, or more than one person, inside the store.
    More people here would be good, but what if they aren’t good people? I know she’s thinking of that as well, considering every possible angle and weighing it against the moral leanings of her heart. And that one look at Jon tells me something else, too. She’s wondering if there’s another little kid waiting to be torn apart like Piper, Penny, and Jeremy were inside the apartment where she found me.
    “You know I’ll back you, whatever you decide,” I add, looking straight into her face so that she knows I’m telling the truth. I am telling the truth.
    Something shifts in her. It’s subtle, but there. She doesn’t stiffen so much as get her spine back where it should be, straight and tall. She’s going.
    “I’m going to need a lot of bolts for this,” she says, resting a hand on the stock of her crossbow. It’s still strapped to her back on the sling that lets her spin it around with remarkable speed.
    “Alright,” I say, then hold up a dented can of ravioli from one of her bags. “Let’s eat first, though, shall we?”
    *****
    She prepared me for an extended absence, taking pains to say I shouldn’t worry if she doesn’t come back for a few days. While I know she’s a planner and not someone who acts on sudden impulse, I also know that she’ll likely change her plan to reflect the situation once she gets there. Deaders are somewhat predictable, but the humans—or animals, because that’s still the most likely scenario—inside the store won’t be. That much pressure might cause them to make a break for it, or the situation might be too much for them to handle.
    It’s dark tonight, with little in the way of moonlight to help her in her tasks, but it doesn’t help us back here at the warehouse either. Usually, one of us keeps watch for a while or sleeps on the roof if the weather is nice. When she’s gone like this, that’s not possible. I can’t leave Jon alone for that long. Instead, we’re cooped up in the tiny, windowless office with an LED lantern sending its harsh white light around the room.
    I’m tense and Jon is picking up on that. He’s being fussy, which is very unlike him. The blocks he’s playing with become missiles that he sends around the room when his uneasiness rises in response to mine. It doesn’t help that he’s got a molar coming in, so his mouth is sore.
    I pull him into my lap and rock him, almost as much for me as for him. We should both be asleep by now, or at least lying down in the dark, but I can’t bear it yet and I know I’ll just have to get up again for Jon.
    He resists at first, cranky and fidgeting, but then I start to sing one of his favorite bedtime songs. As always, I have to sing it very quietly, but it works. He settles, nestling into my arms in the way he likes best. When his thumb finds his mouth, he jerks it away as the soreness of his tooth makes sucking his thumb unsatisfying. After a few minutes, the lullaby over, I keep rocking him in hopes that he’ll drop off to sleep, but he doesn’t.
    Instead, he looks up at me and asks, “Em?”
    Despite the situation, I can’t help but smile at him. We’ve been concerned that he’s developmentally delayed. He walked at a normal—or at least I think normal—time, but he’s reluctant to make noise of any kind and