The Withered Series (Book 1): Wither (30 page)

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.”

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.”