Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
TARYN
We’d been driving for a while and decided to stop because we were starving.
We’d both convinced ourselves that everything was just a coincidence. And that lady had probably gone on a bender the night before.
The guy trying to take the bike was just plain crazy.
The diner sat just off the highway, a cozy little building with a sun-faded sign and a mostly empty parking lot. That alone should’ve tipped me off—this place seemed like the kind that would be packed on a Saturday—but hunger has a way of convincing you that everything’s okay.
Beck parked close to the door and cut the engine.
“Five minutes," he stretched and looked around us cautiously. “We eat, use the bathroom, then leave."
I glanced down at my outfit. A cheer uniform and hiking boots. Perfect.
Beck saw me and smirked. “I already told you that you looked beautiful. And fuck them if they don’t think so.”
I smiled and stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
“Damn! We could find a motel, and I could give you more compliments—see what else you might kiss.” He gave me a lascivious grin.
I laughed. “You wish.”
His face grew serious. “Yes, I do.”
I shook my head and headed inside, choosing not to respond.
The diner was strangely quiet, with just a few people in the booths. No families were there—only singles and couples, all sitting stiffly, as if they sensed something was off.
Beck slid into the booth across from me, back to the wall, eyes sweeping the room.
A small TV mounted behind the counter murmured softly. “…health officials continue to reassure the public there is no cause for alarm…”
The waitress looked exhausted. Pale. Dark circles under her eyes.
“Coffee?” she croaked out.
“Yes,” Beck stared at her intently. “And whatever’s fast.”
“Cheeseburger,” I added. “Fries if it’s quick.”
“That sounds good. I’ll have the same," Beck said, continuing his surveillance.
She nodded and moved to place our order, none of the usual small talk that accompanied dining in a small town.
The bell over the door jingled.
The man who walked in was familiar in the way small towns recognize their own—wide shoulders, boots, and a sheriff’s department jacket hanging open over a sweat-darkened shirt.
“Afternoon,” he said.
His voice sounded wrong.
Too thick, as if his tongue didn’t quite know where to go.
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a smear of sweat behind. His eyes flicked around the room, unfocused but sharp at the same time.
“Usual,” he told the waitress.
She hesitated. “You okay, Earl?”
Earl didn’t answer right away. He swallowed hard, jaw working.
“Just tired,” he sighed. “Flu, I think.”
He slid into a stool at the counter.
The TV droned on.
“…isolated incidents…authorities investigating…”
Beck’s foot nudged mine under the table.
“You good?” he murmured.
“Yeah,” I leaned closer to him. “I have a bad feeling.”
At that moment, the waitress brought Earl his coffee.
He stared at it as if he didn’t recognize what it was. Then he laid his head on his arm.
The waitress watched him with concern, then reached down to touch his arm. “Earl, do I need to call an ambulance?” She shook him gently. “Earl?”
Suddenly, he raised his head and lunged at her.
The sound was wrong—wet, sharp, and vicious. Earl’s teeth sank into the waitress’s forearm, and she screamed so loudly it felt like it split the room in half.
For a second, no one moved.
Then chaos erupted.
“Jesus Christ!”
“Get him off her!”
A man tried to pull Earl back. He turned on him instantly, mouth red, eyes clouded, growling like an animal that was interrupted during a meal.
People were rushing towards the exit.
Beck was already on his feet. He grabbed me and pulled me behind him, keeping himself between Earl and me as he headed toward the door.
“That’s not drugs.” He muttered.
A chair went over. Someone slipped and fell. The waitress collapsed, clutching her arm, blood everywhere.
Earl bit again.
I didn’t think.
I grabbed a heavy glass saltshaker and threw it, hitting him in the temple. It shattered, glass and salt spraying everywhere. He barely reacted.
“What the fuck, Fox?” Beck growled as he shoved a man out of the way, pulling me clear of the diner. “Don’t draw his attention!”
He glanced around frantically for his bike. The parking lot was bedlam—people screaming, engines revving, doors slamming. Someone tackled a man trying to get into a black truck. A woman was crying by her car, pounding on the window, unable to unlock it.
When he didn’t see it, he grabbed my arm again. “Move.”
We ran.
I glanced back and saw a man sprint out of the diner, clutching his neck, blood pouring through his fingers. Another body slammed into him, teeth snapping.
Was that the waitress?
When we finally slowed, I bent over, hands on my knees, shaking.
“He bit her,” I gasped. “He literally just bit her.”
“I saw.”
“That wasn’t drugs.”
“No shit.”
“Where the hell is your bike?” I straightened, forcing myself to breathe.
“I wish I knew.” He nodded at my pack. “At least you were smart enough to take that in the diner.”
“I take it everywhere.” I laughed in derision, “Looks like Ben was right this whole time.”
A scream sounded in the distance.
“We'd better get the fuck out of here.” Beck motioned for my pack.
I adjusted it automatically, brain already shifting gears—we needed distance.
“I’ve got it.” No way would I be parted from it now.
He started to argue, then seemed to think better of it. “Let’s get somewhere safe and try to call again.”
I nodded as we started walking along the edge of the woods, staying clear of the road.
A couple of hours later, Beck pulled me behind a line of scrub trees that bordered a drainage ditch. He crouched there with me, one arm around my shoulders, keeping me close, his eyes locked on the highway.
“Listen,” he said quietly.
I did.
Engines.
Shouting.
A scream that seemed to cut off too fast.
Beck eased his arm away but stayed close, scanning. His jaw was tight, the muscles in his neck standing out.
“Try the phone again.” I urged nervously.
“Okay,” he pulled his phone from his pocket.
He stared at it a moment, then his thumb began moving fast across the screen. His expression didn’t change, but I saw the tension in his shoulders.
“One bar,” he muttered. “Shit. It’s gone—wait.”
He turned the screen so I could see it. A notification tried to load. Failed. Tried again.
“That’s smart. A text is more likely to go through if the signal is sketchy.” I was impressed.
He typed with his head partially lifted, scanning the road.
Bike stolen. I need a pick-up.
The message sat there.
Then—sent.
We both stared at the screen.
“That’s… something, I guess,” I sighed.
“Yeah,” Beck replied. “At least we had enough service to send that. Do you want to try texting your dad?”
Now that I had the chance, I was nervous. What if something had happened to him? He was an asshole, but he was the only person I had left in this world.
“Let’s wait and see if anyone responds to you.”
He narrowed his eyes but didn’t push me on it.
I sank down onto the embankment, legs shaking now that the adrenaline was bleeding off. My hands were aching from being clenched so long.
“Okay,” I said, forcing myself to slow my breathing. “We need water. Shade. Somewhere we can sit for ten minutes and not get jumped.”
Beck nodded immediately. “There’s an overpass about half a mile up, with maintenance access underneath. Concrete, open sightlines.”
I blinked at him. “You just… know that?”
“I notice things,” he winked like the cocky bastard he was.
I huffed a breath that might’ve been a laugh under better circumstances. “That’ll come in handy.”
We moved again, slower now, sticking to the edge of the woods when we could, marveling at all of the traffic. Where were all of these people going? And why did so many of them look sick?
I glanced at Beck, worriedly, but he seemed fine. So did I. Whatever this was, neither of us showed any signs of it. Hopefully, it stayed that way.
Under the overpass, it was cooler. The concrete cast a quiet, comforting shadow.
Someone had dragged a shopping cart down there at some point and abandoned it half-tipped near the wall. A couple of empty bottles rattled when Beck nudged the cart aside with his boot.
“Clear,” he murmured.
I sat with my back against the concrete and finally let my head fall back.
For a long second, neither of us spoke.
Then Beck said, “That guy in the diner—what the fuck?”
“I have no idea.” I grabbed my pack and pulled out my last bottle of water. “Don’t pour this one over your head.”
He smirked, “Got anything to eat in there?”
I handed him a few strips of the deer jerky I’d grabbed before leaving the house.
As we munched, Ben rechecked his phone.
Two bars. Then one. Then the LTE flashed on and off, as if it couldn’t make up its mind.
He tried to call this time.
Straight to voicemail.
“Try again after we eat,” I sighed. “Maybe it’ll work then.”
He nodded, pocketed his phone, and crouched in front of me. Not blocking my view—just close enough that if someone came around the wall, they’d hit him first.
This man continually surprised me. I’d always thought he was gorgeous, but I knew he was in a gang and that trouble was written all over him.
I hadn’t needed any of that in my life… I still didn’t, if I was honest. But the way he’d treated me since his arrival made me want to ignore my instincts, just this once.
“You alright?” He laid his hand on my knee.
I nodded. “Just tired. And… wired all at the same time.”
“Yeah,” he rubbed my leg slightly. “Same.”
I stood abruptly, causing his hand to fall. “I need to take inventory.”
The way he made me feel was beginning to worry me. I wasn’t that person.
“Sure, you do, Fox,” he smirked.
I flipped him off.
Opening my bag, I saw a few more strips of jerky. A small pot for boiling water. Matches. Some peanut butter crackers and a med kit. Not near enough for the long walk. We’d have to go into a town sooner rather than later. I moved my Ruger to the outside pocket so it would be easier to grab.
“I fucking knew you were carrying.” Beck was watching me in fascination.
“Ben may not let me carry a phone, but this is essential.” I rolled my eyes.
“If I weren’t already obsessed, this would do it.” He grinned. “Smart, sexy, and packing.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes.
Beck laughed, ignoring my attitude. “If we can’t get a call in soon, I’ll steal us a ride.”
He stared at me, clearly waiting for me to protest.
I smirked. “I have no problem walking, but if you’re willing, I won’t turn down a ride. Another motorcycle would offer more maneuverability in this traffic.”
“The evil queen has no problem with me stealing a car?” He held his hand to his chest, faking a heart attack.
“I’m an evil queen, of course I don’t.” I looked down my nose at him, still crouched at my feet.
He studied my face for a second, then smiled slowly. “I was always partial to Maleficent.”
I felt myself blushing. This man was impossible.
I glanced at his phone. “Try now.”
He waggled his eyebrows, then dialed.
This time, it rang, and Beck’s face grew serious.
Once.
Twice.
Then a voice cut in, distorted and thin. “—Hello?”
Beck jumped to his feet. “Yeah—yeah, it’s me.”
Static flared over the line. Words dropped in and out.
“… people…biting…cops—”
The call went dead.
Beck stared at the screen.
Neither of us spoke for a moment.
“Okay?”
He looked at me. “I’m not sure. That was my buddy, Stain. The call was sketchy, but from what I could tell, this shit is happening in Ashford, too. The call dropped before I could arrange a ride for us.”
“You got through,” I continued. “That’s something, at least.”
His mouth twitched. “You seem weirdly calm about this.”
“I don’t know what this is yet,” I zipped my pack and hefted it onto my back. “I just know standing still won’t help.”
He nodded.
Above us, a car horn blared and kept blaring until it abruptly stopped.
We stayed under the overpass for another minute.
Beck swatted me on the ass. “Ready?”
“Watch it.” I frowned at him.
The nerve of this asshole, he had absolutely no respect for the bitch I could be.
“I am.” He looked me up and down. “Believe me, every fucking chance I get.”
I huffed as we stepped back onto the road together, heading home on foot, phones unreliable, answers nonexistent, hoping this was nothing more than a bad day.
But I knew better.
And I had a feeling that whatever this was, it was going to be life-changing.