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The Withered Series (Book 1): Wither Page 22
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His gaze is intense. I don’t move, even when I hear Alex and Victoria advancing, leaving us behind. He digs in his pack and pulls out a short handled ax, one of the few remaining tools we have left from the farmhouse. “How could you stand there this morning and promise that you would be with me when you knew you were infected?”
Cable grits his teeth and looks away. “Because I’m not going out like them. I’ll find a way to stop it.”
His sentiment is almost laughable, or at least it would be if I didn’t have tears choking off my airway. “What else are you hiding from me?”
“Nothing.”
“Cable—”
“Nothing.” When he turns back to face me, his face is so near I could trace every curve and line on his face, feel his breath wash over me. “You explored my body pretty in depth two nights ago. You should know.”
At the mention of our time spent in each other’s arms, Cable tenses. “Oh shit.”
“What?”
He hangs his head. “I was infected when we…when we…”
“Don’t.” I grip his arm. Between Cable and Sal’s bite I know my chances are not so hot at the moment, but I refuse to regret spending that one night with him. “It happened and I’m glad it did.”
“Really?”
I laugh at his blatant surprise. “Why do I get the feeling that you always think the worst about me?”
Reaching out his hand, he rubs his thumb across my cheek. “I could spend a lifetime figuring out how to read you and I’d still have so much to learn.”
I sober at his words, knowing that a lifetime is exactly what he no longer has. “Hey,” he whispers, tugging my chin so that I will look at him. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
“You can’t keep that promise.”
“Have I ever let you down before?”
I turn away, knowing that with every final breath he would fight the change. But it won't be enough. It never is.
“They’re leaving us behind.” I wipe at my nose and swipe my hand over my cheek to hide my tears. “We need to move.”
Cable follows right behind me, his hand on my lower back. I’m not sure if he does that for his own peace of mind or simply that he needs to touch me as we weave from car to car. By the time we hit the final vehicle we are over halfway across, but there is a large gap between us and the end of the road.
I can’t see Alex or Victoria anywhere. I look long and hard, praying that they made it to one of the semis and are waiting for us. I turn and press back against the car, trying to prepare myself.
“No matter what happens, I want you to run and keep running,” Cable says. His shoulder presses against me. I am drawn to his heat like a moth to flame. My fingers ache from the cold. I lost feeling in my toes quite some time ago. My ears and nose may still be a part of me. I’m not really sure any more.
“Can I trust you to do the same?”
He smiles and for a moment I almost imagine him happy and healthy again. “I guess you’ll just have to find out.”
“Fine. Stay on my ass and try not to fall behind.”
“It will be a pleasure.” I glance back to see him grinning from ear to ear as he cocks his head to openly check out my backside.
“Wow, and I thought you were a gentleman.”
I don’t wait to hear his response, knowing that it will only tempt me to linger. Keeping my head low, I dash out into the open. I run full out, sliding my feet like a skater over the thin layer of ice. I listen to the moans echoing up from below the overpass and the sound of Cable’s boots hitting the pavement behind me.
“Over here,” a hiss comes from the shadow of a semi and I veer to the left. Alex’s arm reaches out for me and I slam to a stop against the truck.
“Shh,” Victoria scolds as Cable slows to a halt with far more grace than I just displayed.
I toss him a ‘show off’ glare before ducking low and crawling beneath the rig with Alex. “See anything?”
“Not so far. No movement apart from the odd Moaner. No signs of survivors. There are patches of footprints over to the right, but there’s no way to know who made them.”
I search the bay of darkened windows before us. Racks of books, cheap gift items, and a cash register stand not far from the door. Beyond that I spy several aisles of shelves. The back of the shop is awash with shadow.
My breathing sounds loud in my ears. My heart thrums in my chest and I fight to lower my pulse. It won’t do me any good to run in there kamikaze and get my head blown off.
“What do you think?” Alex glances over at me.
I try to shrug but there’s little room to allow for that. “We made it this far without a problem.”
“Yeah,” he nods and looks back at the window. “That’s what worries me.”
I share his sentiment but refuse to express it. The chances of this place not being under surveillance are slim to none. This is a huge risk we are taking, but glancing back at Cable I know I’d choose the same thing all over again if I had to.
I start to move away, but Alex latches onto my wrist. “How bad is he?”
The temptation to lie, to blow it off as nothing, is strong, but Alex deserves the truth. “He’s sick but I think it’s only a fever.”
“For now.” His words stay with me long after I wriggle back out from under the truck. Alex leads us toward the back of the semi. He leans out around the tail end, searching the parking lot.
A middle-aged Withered One shuffles across a patch of ice, arms flailing, his tongue rolled out his mouth. It is almost comical to watch it struggle to move forward. With each step it slides back two. Alex rises and prepares to race forward when I hear a crack of the ice. I duck low and watch the Moaner slam to the ground. Blood splatters across the ice. When it raises its head I realize its nose is smashed completely, and its tongue sticks to the ice.
“That is vile,” Victoria moans, clutching her stomach as she turns away. Alex places an arm around her to shield her and looks to me.
I crawl toward him. “Cable and I will go first. We’ll whistle when it’s clear.”
“Thank you.” His voice is rich with emotion as he squeezes my arm in gratitude. I glance at Victoria, at the way he holds her and realize that in some weird way he has adopted the old woman. Maybe he has mommy issues too and Victoria has become a surrogate mother.
Cable taps my arm and I move away. “On three?”
I nod and crouch low. “Three!”
Our dash across the parking lot is anything but graceful. We slip and slide, skidding into cars and toppling trash cans. I can only imagine the muttered swearing Alex is producing as we take on the obstacle course laid out before us.
Leaping onto the sidewalk, I brace for impact and slam into the side of the building. Pain ripples through my shoulder, still sore from using that semi as a stopping board. Cable stops me as I turn toward the door. He steps gingerly around me and presses his hand against the glass.
I had expected it to be broken, the interior looted for supplies but there are no signs of that. The truck stop has miraculously been left untouched by the horrors outside.
Cable presses a finger to his lips and ducks inside. I catch the door before it slams shut behind him and inch my way in behind. I turn and carefully ease the door closed, holding the small bell dangling from the handle so that it doesn't make a sound.
It is warmer inside than I had expected. Not comfortable by any means, but a far cry better than being outside.
I follow Cable’s lead, ducking low as we search each aisle. Evidence of looting is more prevalent here, but it seems to have been cut short. I search the ground for any signs of struggle, of blood or other bodily fluids, but see none. When we reach the final aisle, we split up. Cable heads to the bathrooms and showers while I check behind the cash register.
Nothing.
Over there, he mouths silently. I follow him toward a hallway that leads to the rear of the store. The darkness envelops us and fear begins to trickle through
me. I fight to keep it at bay but I can feel it gaining control. Cable reaches back and takes my hand, as if knowing I need him.
We search through a small waiting area. The scent of oil and rubber is prevalent in this mechanic shop. It is also completely clear of danger. Cable rises and takes a moment to shove a metal chair beneath the door handle at the back of the shop. It won't stop anyone from busting through the glass but they won't be able to just waltz right in without us hearing it.
“Come on.” He tugs on my hand and leads me back to the front. Motioning for me to stay put, he heads toward the door and pokes his head out. A long, low whistle calls out into the night before he ducks back inside. “I hope they heard that over the moans.”
We wait and watch from the windows, wincing at each fall Victoria makes as Alex tries to help her across the ice. I’m worried about her hips. Her body can only take so much abuse and today has been hard.
Less than five feet away from the Moaner, I see Victoria’s feet slip. I cry out as she goes down. From within the small entryway I hear the crack as her head hits the ice.
“Cable!” He pauses with his hand on the handle as I shove the knife he gave me into his hand. “Just in case.”
The front door slams open as he rushes out. I clutch my hand over my mouth as I watch Alex trying to revive Victoria. Cable slides to his side, tucking his hatchet into his bag and his knife into the sheath at his side and ducks low, wrapping his arms around her. Together they fight to stand. Their progress back to me is slow. Much too slow.
I scan the parking lot for any signs of movement. My breath falters as I see two sets of feet shuffling on the other side of the semi behind them. I press my nose against the glass, watching the halting steps closely, and breathe easier.
Alex slips on the ice and nearly takes the three of them down. I press my palms to the door, frustrated that I can’t help, but someone has to remain as look out.
Movement from my left captures my eye. Two more Moaners emerge. The men are filthy, their clothes ragged, hair gnarled with what I think is blood. They stagger forward. Another captures my attention from the right. This man is slighter in stature, his features what some might call pretty.
I stare long and hard at him, noting the absence of tears, cuts and dangling flesh. He must be newly turned.
Glancing back at Cable, I’m relieved to see Alex is rising to his feet. His legs slide apart as he fights to regain his balance. Cable holds tightly to an unconscious Victoria, the solid base for while Alex grasps to.
I glance at the two Moaners approaching from behind. Something doesn’t feel right but I can’t quite put my finger on it. My fingers curl inward as I press against the glass, my frustration rising parallel to my alarm.
Then I see it, but it’s too late.
“Cable!” I shriek and bang against the glass. He raises up at my scream but the men are upon them. I watch in horror as they break from their stagger and dive forward. Cable is thrust to the ground, tackled from behind.
Alex takes a blow to the ribs and crashes. Victoria slides, whirling around, her arm flapping erratically around her before she plummets to the ground. The two men emerging from behind the semi pause less than five feet away. I watch them draw weapons. The glint of silver in one man’s hand sends me crashing through the door just before I hear the gunshot.
A scream fills my ears as I leap onto the back of the pretty man. He wails and beats at me as I dig my nails into his cheeks, tearing through his flesh. Blood soaks my fingers as I dig my feet into his sides, squeezing. He thrashes and falls. I hit hard and roll away. Blood slickens the ice between us.
Without thinking, I scramble to my feet and dive toward him, using the ice to my advantage. I slam into his side. He yells as the momentum shoves him against the curb of the sidewalk in front of the shop doors. I grab his head, curling my hands into his long hair and bash his head against the concrete. His hands flail at my face. I lean back, trying to stay out of his reach.
His hollering terrifies me. The crunching of bone sickens me, but I don’t stop. I bash his head until his hands fall away and I’m slick with blood. It streaks down my face in thick, goopy trails, clings to my throat as I swallow repeatedly, tasting his blood in my mouth. My hands shake as I fall back away from his still form.
“Avery!” Strong hands grab me under my arm and haul me to my feet. I try to help, to rise and walk, but my legs feel as if all of the bones have vanished.
The glass doors burst open before me and Cable rushes me inside before turning and barring the door. I press back against the shelving system lining the first aisle. I stare vacantly at the blood on my hands. Warmth begins to soak through the seat of my pants and I slowly look to my right. A thick pool of blood surrounds me.
“Oh god!” I stare at it, unblinking and only barely aware of crying nearby. The blood fills my vision, consumes my thoughts. I can’t think. Can’t feel. Is it mine? Am I hurt?
“Avery.” A face swims before my face as hands force my head back to the front. I try to focus, to think. “Avery, are you hurt?”
I blink rapidly. The sound of loud humming fills my ears.
My head rocks back and a stinging pain races across my cheek. The pain helps to clear my thoughts. Another slap and the clarity of my vision begins to return. “Cable?”
“Thank god!” He tugs me into his arms. A wet stickiness surrounds him and I pull back. A crimson stain coats his shirt.
“You’re hurt!” I paw at his chest, searching for a wound.
“I’m fine.” He clasps my hands to his lips with one hand. The other he cups my cheek. “Are you back with me now?”
“I…” I blink several more times, trying to piece together the last few moments. “I think so.”
“Good, cause I’m going to need your help.”
“With what?” I turn and follow his gaze, trailing beyond the pool of blood to where Alex kneels over Victoria. All color has fled from her face. Her mouth hangs open, her tongue protruding from the corner of her mouth. I stare at the whites of her eyes as Alex lifts her eyelids. “She’s been stabbed.”
TWENTY-ONE
My arms are slick with blood. It itches as it dries, tugging at the hairs on my arms. A stack of orange car waxing cloths lie in a stained puddle at my feet. A window sun shield lies over Victoria’s body. I try not to think of her final moments, the fear I’d seen in her eyes. The way she gasped for breath as blood bubbled between her lips.
I feel numb, thinking of Alex’s tears and pleading for her to hang on. Cable applied pressure to the wound, but he was wrong. She hadn’t just been stabbed. She’d been gutted. When I’d arrived at her side, I had slid right into a tangle of intestines.
Alex was beside himself as he clung to Victoria, holding her head in his lap. She’d tried to speak, but words failed her. It didn’t take long for the life to fade from her eyes. At least we have that to be thankful for.
I glance up at the sound of rattling and peer through the dark to see Cable working relentlessly to reinforce the doors. The chains may keep the door frame itself closed, but they will just come in through the glass. I saw it before at the hospital but say nothing now. This is what Cable needs to do so I let him.
“They’re gone for now,” he says as he returns. His face bears evidence of the fight. Bloodied nose. Scratches along his face and arms. Of the three of them, he fared best. He turns his gaze on Alex. A bloodied cloth is pressed to the man’s shoulder where a bullet tunneled through.
“How are you feeling?” I ask Alex.
He wipes at his nose. “Better than her.”
I close my eyes at the pain in his voice as he stares at Victoria. His shoulders shake with silent sobs, of regret and guilt I’m sure. He must be numb to the pain. “Don’t do that to yourself. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Of course it was.” He shouts back. “I knew I wasn’t good on ice. I should have asked Cable to take her. To stop trying to be the hero and do what was right.”
I slide
across the floor, attempting to avoid the smeared mess dragging Victoria’s body away created and grab his hand from the floor beside him, where it hangs limp. “Victoria didn’t die because you weren’t fast enough. She died because of those men out there.”
Alex yanks his arm away and turns his back on me. I know he is angry, at himself, at the world, at fate but not at me. Not like he should be. Cable was right earlier. I did push to come here. For him.
With a heavy sigh, I push up to my feet and leave him be. He wants to be near her.
I brush my hair back out of my face, wincing at the thought of how gruesome I must look covered from head to foot in blood. Victoria’s blood. Alex’s. That man’s.
When Cable’s hand falls on my shoulder I flinch.
“Easy.” I go willingly into his embrace as he envelopes his arms around me. I cling to him, ignoring the scent of blood and sweat that clings to him. “I’ve got you.”
Closing my eyes, I allow him to lead me away from Alex, to a darkened corner where we can be alone. Where we are hidden from sight from those who linger outside. I know they are there. We are cornered, trapped within what so quickly became a coffin. How many more of us will go out the same way Victoria did? They have the advantage. It’s only a matter of time before they know it.
“What are they waiting for?” I ask, despising the tremor in my voice, the way my hands shake as I cling to him. I sink down beside him and lean into him, resting my head on his chest. All thought of food, of gathering provisions no longer seem important. Not in the wake of losing Victoria.
“They are probably trying to figure out how many of us are still alive. I’m betting they weren’t here for the whole show. Otherwise they wouldn’t have pulled back when they did.”
I stare into the dark, down the hall toward the back room. That’s where Cable got the supplies to help Victoria. He blocked the door that leads to the shop and the repair center beyond. I close my eyes and try not to think about how those men could be creeping up on us right now.
Cable’s chest bounces as he tries to stifle a cough. I raise my head and stare at him. He looks tired, unnaturally so. His head rests back against the wall. Perspiration dampens his hair. I watch as a bead of sweat rolls down his cheek.