Chapter 8 #2
At the sound Harlow makes, Alex’s gaze snaps to me and softens, although there’s still tension in his body. “Hey, sweetheart,” he says as he reaches down to brush his fingers over my cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got run over by a bus,” I croak, wincing at how rough my voice sounds as I thread my fingers through Harlow’s soft fur.
Everything hurts. My head is pounding and muscles I didn’t even know I have are screaming in protest. And that’s without mentioning the serious case of dry mouth I’m suffering from or the nausea that’s swirling in my stomach. Being future Ollie sucks.
But hey, at least I’m not dead.
“Yeah, Theo said you might wake up feeling like that thanks to the painkillers and antibiotics he dosed you with. Speaking of…” He turns and rummages around until he comes back with a canteen and a blister pack of tablets.
“Here. This should help with the pain and they won’t make you loopy like the last dose.
” His lips twitch at that, but I’m not sure why.
I’ll ask him later, when I feel less like a walking bruise.
With his help, I sit up and swallow two of the pills before draining the entire canteen. The cool, refreshing water soothes my sore throat and eases some of my nausea. Fuck, I really needed that. “Thanks,” I say as I hand him back the canteen and blister pack before looking around. “Where are we?”
Above me, a rusted metal roof slopes sharply, suggesting that we’re in a small room in a loft area.
Hay and straw is strewn across the floor, with my sleeping bag lying on top of a thick pile of it.
Moonlight streams in through small holes that dot the walls, telling me that several hours have passed.
“In a barn on the Welsh border somewhere is Rhys’s best guess,” Alex says as he returns the canteen and painkillers to wherever he got them from.
He turns back to face me, this time with a protein bar in hand that I gratefully take and devour.
“Although it’s hard to say because we ended up going in a different direction so we could find shelter sooner.
” There’s a grimness to his voice that raises my hackles and turns the protein bar to ash in my mouth.
“Did something happen to Ketchup and Bean?” I ask, panic fluttering in my chest. “Or anyone else?”
“Bean and Ketchup are fine; we made sure of it.” He hesitates and sighs heavily. “We lost two to bites and another from friendly fire.”
My eyebrows jump up. “Friendly fire?”
He nods. “Ingrid—that’s her name—was panicking and ended up running in front of someone as they were firing at a zombie. She died instantly, apparently.”
The colour drains from my face. Holy shit.
That poor woman. “Who shot her?” I can’t imagine what they must be going through, accidentally killing someone like that.
It’s bad enough when it’s intentional against someone who’s trying to kill you, but against an ally?
Someone you’re trying to protect? Just the idea makes my stomach clench.
“We don’t know. There was so much shit going on in that fight and with the rain, it made it impossible to see. We only realised what happened to her after all the zombies were dead.” His hands clench into fists on his lap.
Shit. That means it could have been anyone with a gun out there. “Do you think…?” It was you, Rhys or Theo? I can’t make myself say it aloud.
He swallows hard and shakes his head. “No, it was a shotgun that killed her.”
I feel like such a piece of shit as I breathe a sigh of relief, but I can’t help it. I don’t want any of them to have to suffer the guilt and horror of an innocent’s death on their hands. Although I imagine Rhys is already shouldering some of the blame because the idiot has a martyr complex.
“How’s everyone taking it?” I ask as I unwrap the rest of the protein bar and force myself to eat it against the wishes of my protesting stomach.
“Not well.”
As if to punctuate that statement, the shouting that’s been filtering in through the door turns to enraged screaming. What the hell? Alex and I share startled looks at the noise as Harlow grumbles on my other side.
Apparently, not well is an understatement.
Alex winces. “That doesn’t sound good.”
No, it does not, and the screaming is getting louder. Gritting my teeth and using Alex’s shoulder for balance, I start to get up.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Alex grabs my shoulder to stop me and stares like I’ve grown a second head.
“Getting up so I see what the fuck is going on out there,” I say in a tight voice as I shrug off his hand and shove myself to my feet. Sweat beads on my forehead as I lean heavily against the wall, and I fight to keep my breathing even against the agony ripping through my head.
Motherfucker, does it hurt. I can’t wait for these painkillers to kick in.
Alex hovers in front of me, his brow creased and his eyes tight with concern. “Ollie, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You look like you’re about to collapse.”
I feel like it too. I want to brush him off and tell him I’ll be fine, but there’s no way in hell he’ll believe it. “Help keep me upright so I don’t fall on my ass.”
He presses his lips together in obvious disapproval, but wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me against his side, supporting me like I asked. Harlow presses against my other side, keeping me grounded against the pain.
“Theo is going to kick my ass,” Alex grumbles under his breath as the two of us hobble across the small room to the door.
“Probably,” I say with a grin as we open the door and step through.