The Withered Series (Book 1): Wither (28 page)

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Authors: Amy Miles

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BOOK: The Withered Series (Book 1): Wither
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“Alex,
get him off her!”

I’m
on vaguely aware of someone clawing at me.  Sal’s face
reappears.  I spot the maniacal gaze a split second before he
sinks his teeth into my shoulder.  I scream, arching my back.  

“Shit!”
 Alex yells from beside me.  My body shakes with each punch
he lands against Sal’s head.  I cry out as his teeth tear
at my flesh, refusing to give up his hold.  “Cable, he bit
her!”

“Get
out of my way!”  

The
tent overhead shakes violently. I hear the sound of shredding fabric
and a moment later Cable appears over me.  A glint of silver
flashes before my eyes.  Sal’s head rears back. My blood
stains his chin.  I place a trembling hand over my shoulder,
wincing at the pain.  

“Take
care of her,” Cable grunts and man handles Sal out of the tent.

I
focus on Victoria’s whimpers over the scuffling sounds.  Alex’s
face is blurry as he kneels before me.  I shake my head, trying
to clear my thoughts but it’s a losing battle.

“Just
hold on,” Alex says nearby.  I hear rustling but give in
to the pain and close my eyes.

When
I wake the sun shines just above the horizon.  Beautiful pastel
blues, pinks and yellows dot the landscape as I ease myself upright.
 My shoulder twinges. I press my hand to the bandage and feel
blood soak through.

“Easy.”
 I turn to see Victoria sitting beside me. She no longer rocks,
no longer looks lost to her own world. There is intelligence in her
eyes for the first time in weeks.  “You’re gonna be
sore for a few days.”

I
grimace at the pain.  She tsks and reaches out to place a new
bandage on my shoulder.  The cold morning air bites at my skin
and I realize that I’ve been stripped down to only a tank top.
 “How bad is it?”

“Not
as bad as it feels, I’m sure.”

I
inhale sharply and try to look down at the wound.  Victoria
places a hand on my arm. “I disinfected it the best I could
but....”

I
understand the deeper meaning to her words.  Sal was infected.
 It would only make sense that his bite holds the potential to
spread the disease to me.

Covering
my hand over my shoulder, I offer her a smile.  “Thanks. “

She
dips her head in acknowledgement and begins tucking the cleaning
supplies back in her pack.  She grabs a roll of gauze and raises
my arm. I notice a quake in her hands as I grit my teeth at the pain.
With my free hand I rub my throat, sure that the pale skin is a mass
of bruising now.  It hurts to swallow, to breathe.  “And
Sal?”

Her
hands pause in their work, her knuckles swollen and fingers curled.
 Alex had mentioned that she suffers from bouts of arthritis.
 The cold makes it worse.  The gauze she wraps around my
shoulder to hold the new bandage in place falls from her fingers and
she lowers her head.  The chain holding her glasses swing before
her chest.  “Gone.”

“I’m
sorry,” I whisper, though I know I’m not.  Not sorry
that he’s dead. That he’s no longer a part of the group.
Now all I want to know is who ended it.

“Don’t
be.”  She plasters a smile back on and continues her
ministrations.  “He became a danger, just like you said he
would.”

“You...you
heard all of that?”

Victoria
nods.  Her glasses slide down nearly to the end of her nose. She
doesn’t bother to push them back.  “I heard a lot
more than I let on.”

“You
were faking it?”

She
offers me a pained smile. “Some.  Though there were plenty
of times that I would lose myself for a while.  I don’t
blame you for thinking I was going crazy.  I would have agreed
with you.”

“But
you’re back now?”

She
shoves her hair back out of her face.  The deep set of wrinkles
and bruising along her face speaks of how hard this life has been on
her.  She is far too old to keep going at this pace.  “For
now.  It comes and goes, just like before.  My daughter
insisted that I be checked by a specialist.  That’s where
I was going when our flight was detoured to St. Louis.”

“You
flew alone?”

She
nods.  “Felt like a kid with those stewardesses watching
over me.  Might as well have stuck a little name tag on me and
handed me some cookies and milk.”

I
grin at the imagery.  “Any who, maybe that knock I took to
the head last night set things right again. Guess old timer’s
was bound to catch up with me sooner or later. I’m no spring
chicken anymore.”

I
laugh, a deep genuine laugh. “You’re one tough broad,
Victoria. You know that?”

“You
may call me Vicky now, I think. The name has begun to grow on me
after all this time.”

Smiling,
I reach out and place my hand over hers.  Veins rise through
papery thin flesh.  “I never thought I’d say it, but
I’m kinda glad you’re back.  Being the only girl
sucked.”

She
seems genuinely pleased when she squeezes my hand. “I suppose
you and I didn’t start out on the proper foot, did we?”

“Not
so much.”  She lifts the tape to her mouth and tears off
the piece, tucking it under.  I try lifting my arm and know that
it’s going to take a few days before the pain begins to fade.
 “I’m sorry about Eva.”

At
the sound of my friend’s name, my breath catches and I fall
silent. “I should have helped more, been kinder.  I
suppose I was afraid. Afraid of not being needed. Of being left
behind. When you reach my age you'll understand what it’s
like.”

If
I reach your age
,
I amend silently.  

Clearing
my throat and making the decision to shove the past right back where
it belongs, I pat my bandage.  For a retired science teacher she
seems fairly handy with gauze and tape.  “Where are Alex
and Cable?”

Vicky
looks toward the woods. I follow her gaze, realizing that a massive
slit has been sliced through the zippered door.  “He
couldn’t get the zipper to work so he burst in here, knife at
the ready.”  She turns to look at me. “That man
cares for you.”

“I
know.”  And I do for him, far more than I’d like to
admit.

“Well,”
she dusts her hands off and gingerly rises.  “They should
be back soon. I’d best make myself useful while I still can.”

I
stare after her, amazed at how easily she bounces back. Was it all
just a survival technique to shut down or something else?  Beginning
stages of dementia?  Her body's way of dealing with shock?

It
could have gone the wrong way. Alex could have decided to leave her
behind on the side of the road. Deemed her too big of a liability.  

No.
 Alex may be many things, but cruel for the sake of being cruel
does not seem to be one of them.  He cares about his people, no
matter how motley the crew may be.

Grabbing
a pack nearby, I search for clothes to put on.  My pack is
nowhere to be seen, so I grab Cable’s and dig out a long sleeve
black shirt.  I manage to wiggle my way inside fairly well, and
with only minimal swearing but by the time I’m done I feel
exhausted.  

Pushing
aside my weariness, I crawl out of the tent and discover a battle
scene.  Boot prints disturb the dirt.  Blood splatters the
rocky path and trees beyond.  Staring at the blood, I feel weak
in the knees and sink down onto a nearby rock.  

“Only
a little of that belongs to Cable.”  I look up to find
Victoria watching me.  I hate that my fear is so transparent.
 “Sal got in a few good swings before the end.”

“That
sounds like him.”  My voice is weaker than it should be.
 The sight of Cable’s shed blood shouldn’t affect me
so. Heck, it shouldn't bother me at all beyond a general concern for
his well-being, but it does.

At
the sound of approaching footsteps, I turn to see Cable marching a
few steps ahead Alex.  They are covered in blood, sweat and
dirt.  It covers their hands and arms, soiling their shirts and
caked to their pants. There is a haggardness on Alex’s face
that was not there yesterday.  A look that only death can bring,
up close and personal.

I
push down on the rock and rise.  A moment of dizziness nearly
topples me back to the ground but I fight through it and manage to
rise fully before Cable crushes me in his embrace. I want to resist
the tears that swell in my eyes, but I don’t. I cling to him,
digging my fingers into his back as the tears come, uncaring of the
blood that soaks through his shirt into mine.

“It’s
ok. You’re safe now.”

“Am
I?” I choke out and bury my face in the crook of his arm.  The
scent of blood is less strong here.  “Are any of us really
safe?”

He
doesn’t answer me and I know why.  The truth, no matter
how grim, is still the reality that we face. Uncertainty. Death. A
fight for survival.  The trouble is that I fear this is only the
beginning.

Heat
radiates out from him like a warm blanket straight out of a dryer.  I
noticed that color sits high in his cheeks once more, but assume it’s
from the hike.

“I
thought he was going to kill me.  Maybe he already has,” I
whisper, hating how hoarse my voice sounds as draw back and cup my
shoulder.  My neck is raw, my windpipe bruised from Sal’s
squeezing. It will take some time to recover fully, if ever.  It
seems like this new life isn’t interested in allowing recovery
time before another disaster strikes.  Each morning I wake up a
little more tired, a little more sore, and with a heck of a lot less
hope.

Cable
presses his lips to the top of my head.  “I would never
let that happen.  You know that, right?”

I
nod and pull back, releasing my death grip on him to wipe at my nose.
“I know you would try, but you won’t always be around.”

“Sure
I will.”

“No.”
I place my hand on his chest to stop him from hugging me again.  “You
won’t.  None of us know what will happen today, or
tomorrow or a week from now. We’ve made it this long because we
hid, but how long can we keep that up?  We don’t have any
food. After we leave this place we’ll have enough water for
three days. Then what?”

He
remains silent. I didn't expect him to give me some bullshit,
sugarcoated answer.  For all the optimism Cable tries to
provide, he is at the core a realist.  I think you have to be in
times like these.  

“We
both know that towns are dangerous,” I continue.  “We’ve
been lucky so far, but we won’t always be.  Sooner or
later we are going to run into trouble.”

“And
I...we,” he amends quickly, “will be there to help.”

I
lower my head.  “I can’t do this, Cable.”

He
reaches down and lifts my chin.  I try to resist, knowing that
if I meet his gaze I will be tempted to weaken, but he persists. “I’m
not asking for anything from you, Avery. You know that, right?”

I
want to say yes, to say that I know he’s never officially asked
me for a commitment, but it’s there, in his eyes, every time he
looks at me.  Try as I might to ignore it, I know that I crave
that look.

“One
night.  That’s what you promised.”

His
hand falls away from my chin and I step back.  An ache grows in
my chest as I watch a shifting of emotions play across his face. He’s
usually very good at hiding them behind his stony exterior, but not
now.  

“We
should go.”  I turn my back on him and wrap my arms around
my waist, knowing that I’ve hurt him, hurt myself, but it’s
the way it has to be.  For us to survive.  For us to say
goodbye when the time comes, because I know it is. It’s
inevitable.

Alex
cautiously meets my glance and I nod at him. Pressing back my
shoulders I move to stand beside him. “What’s the plan?”

“We
need supplies.”  I’ve heard that sentiment so many
times it makes me want to vomit.  Food, water, shelter...they
are all that matter now.  If I focus on that maybe, just maybe,
I can make it.  I’ve done it before. I just need to find a
way to put Cable in the past.

Alex
points to a map at his feet and I see that if we continue on this
path, within half a day’s hike, perhaps a little more we will
reach a town that sits a couple miles off the main interstate heading
south in Kentucky.  If we can find a car we might be able to
make it to the border within an hour.  

Looking
at the town on the map, I feel apprehension coil in my gut.  It’s
always hard to tell just how populated that town may have once been,
how many survivors may still linger.  Being on the main road ups
the danger.  It’s a risk, no matter how you look at it,
but some risks I would rather leave alone.

Cable
moves past me, careful not to touch me as he ducks into the tent.
 Alex watches me and I’m careful not to show any emotion.
“You ok?”

I
bite my lip and nod.  “How long till tear down?”

He
cocks his head to look up at the sun.  “Quarter of an hour
give you enough time to get yourself cleaned up?”

I
grab a faded towel Victoria holds out to me. I must look pretty bad
for them to already have stuff prepped for me. “Give me five
minutes. That water isn’t warm enough to soak in!”

TWENTY

 

 

The
winds are still for the first time in weeks.  A brief storm
passed through during the afternoon hours, forcing us to take refuge
in a small cave.  We huddled together as the temperatures
plummeted and the sleet came.  Cable, being the largest in our
group, took the outer edge, creating a makeshift wall.  I
huddled in the middle with Victoria. Only the chattering of our teeth
could be heard.  I would trade all four layers of shirts that I
wear for one decent wool coat, a pair of gloves and a hat.  

We
continued our hike, no longer driven by the hope of reaching safety
in the light of the sun, but by the need for shelter.  I glance
back over my shoulder at Cable and the deep seated fear that began
earlier doubles.  

His
fever burns high once again.  His face is flushed despite the
freezing temperatures.  The cold doesn’t faze him.

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