Dearly, Beloved by Lia Habel Read Free Book Online Page A

weeks ago. He must be far from here by now.”
    “That’s … generous,” was all I could think to say.
    The red-haired zombie shrugged. “Ever since dying, I find it very easy to forgive. Which is why I can’t believe my brotherswould …” It seemed she wanted to say something more, but in the end stuck with, “I’m so sorry.”
    “Wish I could say the same.” Still, she struck me as idealistic to the point of foolishness. “But I don’t want that guy stealing from anyone else.”
    “Very true. But my main concern right now is getting my brothers and sisters home. Protecting them.” Mártira looked into my eyes for a moment longer before curtsying. “Take care, Mr. Griswold.” She joined her sisters, and all three swept away.
    Havelock appeared seconds after she left. His face was puffy and starting to bruise. “I should report you to the authorities,” he huffed.
    “Are you going to?” I was too tired to argue with him. I just wanted to know. “The army’s right down there. I’m sure a guy named Norton would love to talk to you.”
    The boy glanced out over the ocean, and decided, “No. Because you did save my hide. I guess.” He sniffed. “I do want a new chip, though.”
    “You got it.” I pointed to the ramp. “Now get lost.”
    He did so. Evola came over to stand with me near the barbette and watch him go. “I heard that kid talking. Is it true you punched him?”
    “Yeah.” I was calmer now—calm enough to regret my actions, to recognize how depressingly similar they were to the actions of the zombies I’d just had to take care of. “I know I shouldn’t have. Ever since we came to New London, I … it’s harder. There’s something about this place that makes the Laz flare. It’s too crowded. Too big.” Yet another reason I liked to keep the boats at my back.
    “You’re, what, eighteen now?” he asked, and I nodded. “Christ, I’m only six years older than you. I feel about forty.” Evola sighed. “So I’m telling you this as a friend, not someone incharge. You need to be careful for the very simple reason that up here, jail is not what you have to worry about. You’re a Punk. You served in the New Victorian army, yes, which is why they’re letting you stay here, but the two tribes are still enemies. If you get caught up in something, they’ll deport you.”
    He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know. He was right. The royals would jump at the chance to get rid of me. And where would I go? The Punks destroyed zombies on sight—and I couldn’t go home. My mother and my little sisters probably thought I was truly dead, and thank God if they did. It was healthier for them. Healthier for me. A clean break.
    And I couldn’t lose Nora. I loved her. I’d yet to say the words, because I didn’t want to freak her out—it’d only been a few months, after all. But I knew I loved her. Needed her. I didn’t need food, or water, or even oxygen, but I needed her. I’d never met a more spirited, intelligent, accepting, drop-dead-again beautiful girl in my life. She was my first, my everything, the thing that made me actually pray in church and try to tolerate the city and put up with her tribe’s insane courtship rules—which all seemed to boil down to “if you like a girl, you basically can’t do anything in public to show her how you feel.” Lord, I was getting sick of having to tiptoe around them. Especially when the Apocalyptic ride we were all currently on was showing no signs of slowing down anytime soon. My time was short. I didn’t want to waste it.
    “Right,” I said, recalling myself. “I’ll be smart. But I think we’ve got more important things to worry about than my small-town transplant angst.”
    Evola ran his fingers through his hair. “I know. That little boy. What a mess.” He returned his eyes to the zombies marching down the dock. “I hope they make it through this.”
    “Yeah.” I turned my own attention to the Erika . “And