Chapter Twenty-Five
TARYN
Something wet touched my hand, and I jerked awake.
For a second, I didn’t know where I was.
The room spun slowly around me. The dim lamp in the corner cast long shadows across the stained walls of the clubhouse bedroom.
Then I felt the weight on my lap.
Maximus.
The big pit mix lifted his head and looked up at me, his scarred face creased in concern.
“Hey,” I whispered.
My voice sounded rough. Like I’d swallowed sand.
Max’s tail thumped weakly against the floor.
I tried to sit up, but the movement sent a spike of pain through my skull.
“God,” I muttered, holding a hand to my head.
It felt like my head had been stuffed with cotton and then set on fire.
My skin was hot.
Too hot.
I pressed the back of my hand to my forehead. I was definitely running a fever.
Great.
I glanced toward the bed. Beck hadn’t moved an inch. He lay on his side exactly the way I’d left him, one arm hanging over the edge of the mattress. Sweat soaked through his shirt and darkened the pillow beneath his head.
Sweating when running a fever was usually a good sign, showing that your fever had broken. Whatever this was, it didn’t seem to work that way.
I leaned in closer. His breathing was shallow but steady. I exhaled softly, relieved that he was still breathing.
“Hang on, Beck,” I murmured.
No matter what I’d said to him, the fear of Beck changing filled me with dread. The thought of having to kill this beautiful man was more than I could bear. I didn’t know if what I felt was love, but it was damn close.
Max followed me as I pushed myself to my feet.
I grabbed a bottle of water and forced a few drops between Beck’s dry, cracked lips. Most of it ran back down his chin, but his throat moved as he swallowed a small amount.
That would have to be enough for now.
The room tilted.
I grabbed the dresser until the dizziness passed. Then I opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
The clubhouse was quiet.
Too quiet.
Earlier, it had been full of voices and boots and the smell of cigarette smoke.
Now it felt abandoned.
The lights flickered.
Shit. I knew it was only a matter of time before utilities started failing.
I started down the hallway and paused at the room where Nash had locked the sick in. There was complete silence. Not even the sound of breathing could be heard.
Chill bumps covered my arms. That wasn’t good.
I pushed it to the back of my mind and made my way to the kitchen. Every step made my head pound harder. It felt like my fever was climbing. I could feel it spreading through my body like lava.
“Fantastic timing,” I muttered.
Max trotted beside me, nails clicking softly against the floor.
The kitchen looked like a tornado had hit it. Cabinets hung open. Beer bottles and candy wrappers littered the counters.
I sighed. At least there was still food.
Canned stuff and a few protein bars.
Water.
I grabbed a plastic grocery bag and started stuffing it.
Cans of soup. Crackers.
Anything that we could eat cold.
My hands trembled.
I opened the back door and let Max out to do his business. He sniffed around for a few minutes, then proceeded to hike his leg on everything near him.
I looked around the yard, unable to see far in the fading light, but I was struck by the silence. No jets in the sky, no train whistles in the distance, and no traffic sounds from the nearby road.
Complete silence.
It was beyond eerie, and I was glad when Max finished up and returned to me.
I was grabbing a few more supplies, things out of the refrigerator that hadn’t gone bad, when he whined quietly.
“What, boy?” I patted his big head.
Then I heard it.
A dull thud, and it was coming from the locked room.
Then another.
Something slammed into the door.
I froze, and the bag slipped from my hand and hit the floor.
Another thud shook the hallway.
Then a scraping sound. Like fingernails dragging across wood.
My stomach twisted. They were waking up.
Or changing.
Or whatever the hell happened next.
“Okay,” I whispered. “Okay. You can do this.”
Another crash rattled the door, and Max growled low in his throat.
I grabbed the bag and hurried back down the hallway. The pounding behind that door grew louder. Something inside hit it hard enough to make the frame shudder.
I paused in front of the room, drawn by a strange fascination. I could hear snarling and groaning.
Max growled, and the sounds paused for a few moments before becoming louder and heading in our direction.
“Shush, boy,” I whispered, laying my hand on his head. “Enough of that.”
I turned my attention back to the door when I heard a snapping noise, and the hinges began to bend slightly.
“Shit.”
I grabbed Max’s collar and pushed us through Beck’s bedroom door, then slammed it behind me.
Max was already moving and planted himself in front of Beck’s bed. His teeth bared toward the hallway.
“Easy,” I told him, my hands shaking harder.
I dragged the dresser across the floor. The wood screeched against the boards as I shoved it in front of the door.
Then the chair.
Then the small table.
It wasn’t much, but it might slow them down.
Maybe.
The pounding in the hallway echoed through the clubhouse.
Something cracked, that sounded like wood splintering. Hopefully the door would hold until Beck woke up.
I set the bag on the table and tried to eat a protein bar. I had to stop several times when I felt like I was going to throw up, but I managed to finish it.
I poured some water into Max's bowl and gave him a handful of lunch meat I found in the refrigerator. It looked questionable, but it was all I had.
“When we get out of here, I’m going to get you the biggest steak I can find.” He paused his chewing and looked at me. “Okay, that might not be possible. How about the best kibble money can buy?”
Surely I could find a Petco to rummage through.
He went back to eating. I guess that met with his approval.
It felt like my fever surged again, blurring my vision. I stumbled back toward the bed and collapsed onto the floor beside Beck. Max came immediately, pressing against my side, and I buried my fingers in his thick fur.
“Guess we’re staying put,” I whispered.
There was no way I could move Beck in his current condition. Not to mention, I seem to be sick now too.
Beck didn’t move, even as the pounding down the hall grew louder.
I leaned my head back against the mattress.
My skin burned, and my thoughts flickered in and out of focus.
I thought about my father, and scenes between Adrian and me flickered through my mind. Regret for the things I’d said about Lucas filled my thoughts. Countless moments from the past, and so many things I hoped for my future.
Somewhere deep in the clubhouse, something crashed to the floor.
If Nash and the others went to rob and pillage, they were going to have one hell of a surprise waiting for them when they returned.
For the first time since this whole nightmare started…I wondered if I was about to become one of the infected.
I felt a tear roll down my cheek.
Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine my life would end like this. If I had the energy, I’d get up and let Max out. At least he’d have a chance out there. In here, Beck or I might try to eat him.
He licked my hand.
I had to believe that I could beat this.
I’d survived losing my mother.
I’d survived losing my stepmother.
I’d survived being abandoned by Adrian and Lucas.
I’d survived my father and all of his lessons.
As my eyes started closing, the pain in my head grew excruciating.
It felt like my body was on fire. I hoped, like the phoenix, I would rise from the ashes.
If it came to it, I’d prefer my father to find me and shoot me in the head. I didn’t want to become one of those creatures. Luckily, I was confident Ben wouldn't hesitate to put me out of my misery.