Chapter 25 #2
“Come on,” I say, holding my knife out in front of me, keeping my eyes peeled in all directions.
Blake and I move with haste toward the exit, dodging the wreckage and rotting corpses to avoid drawing any more attention to ourselves. A biter squawks in the distance, and we keep going, sticking close to one another.
“Are you okay?” I whisper to Blake.
He glances over at me with fearful eyes and nods. I’ve never seen him scared before, and for some reason, all I want to do is be the one who makes him fearless. Up ahead, an exit sign glows a reddish hue. It’s our way out of this hellhole.
I accelerate my pace, pushing myself harder to reach the door first. I throw it open, and the sun’s bright rays enter my eyes all at once, forcing me to squint and look away.
Blake crosses the threshold and slams the door closed behind him.
We suck in big gulps of air, trying to catch our breath while scanning the back lot.
A high-pitched screech steals our attention. JJ and Greg push a gurney and a laundry canvas cart, each piled high with food and supplies across the parking lot. One of the wheels squeaks every few seconds or so, finally quieting when they reach the truck bed.
The door we just came through bursts open behind us. Dozens of biters spill out.
“Blake, go,” I say, shoving him forward.
I’m on his heels, screaming for JJ and Greg.
They pause loading supplies and look to us.
Realizing what we’re up against, they each grab an end of the gurney and toss the whole thing into the truck bed, followed by the laundry cart.
Greg closes the tailgate and races around the side, hopping in the front.
JJ pulls the back passenger door open and gets into the driver’s seat, starting the engine.
“Come on,” I say, pushing myself to run faster. Blake lags a little behind me, and I fear he’ll stop altogether, so I slow down to ensure I’m in lockstep with him. I won’t leave him behind, and I won’t let him stay behind either.
I reach the truck first and climb in, moving to the opposite side so Blake has room to jump in.
“Hurry!” Greg’s voice is full of panic.
Blake practically vaults into the vehicle.
“Go! Go! Go!” he yells, yanking the door closed behind him, snapping off a biter’s arm in it. JJ slams his foot on the gas pedal. Tires squeal as we peel out of the lot.
Greg turns back in his seat, raising a brow. “What the hell were you two doing in there?”
I look down at myself, realizing I’m only wearing a sports bra on top because my shirt is hanging from an elevator cable.
I roll my eyes. “We were trying to get out alive.”
“Right,” Greg teases, double raising his brows.
Blake stares blankly.
“Dude, what’s up with you?” Greg asks, noticing how quiet he is.
When he doesn’t answer, I do. “Blake got bit.”
JJ’s eyes grow wide in the reflection of the rearview mirror. “What? How?”
Greg’s mouth parts, but no words come out.
“It doesn’t matter how it happened,” I say, because I honestly don’t know how it did.
Blake is quiet, his knee nervously bouncing up and down as he stares ahead at nothing in particular. It’s like he’s making a plan of his own and deciding whether to act on it.
Greg presses his lips firmly together and shakes his head in dismay, facing forward once again. JJ’s attention is laser-focused on the road as he swerves around biters and abandoned vehicles.
A gust of air whips through the truck, thanks to Blake flinging open his door. He attempts to jump out of the moving vehicle, but I lunge at him and jerk him back.
“Blake! Stop!” I tug on his arm with one hand and grab a fistful of his shirt with the other.
JJ yells at him to close the door, while Greg spins around and tries to help me keep him inside.
“You have a chance, Blake. It’s not over yet!” I shout, hoping I’ll talk some sense into him.
I leap across his body and seize hold of the door handle, yanking on it as hard as I can. It slams closed, putting an end to the whipping wind. Blake’s shoulders slump in defeat, and he lets his head fall forward.
I’m breathless and annoyed. “What the hell was that?”
“What?” He slowly looks to me with narrowed eyes. “You want me dead anyway.”
“Not like this, I don’t.”
Without a thought, he lunges at the door again, propelling it open.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” JJ yells.
I grip his shoulder and pull back, drawing him into his seat.
I’m not doing this again, so I climb on top of him, straddling my legs around his waist, while Greg tugs the door closed and lets out an exasperated sigh.
Throwing my arms around Blake, I hold him tight and bury my face between his neck and shoulder.
“If you jump, then I’m coming with you,” I whisper into his ear.
He doesn’t say anything. All I can hear are his labored breaths and his pounding heart.
“Get a room,” Greg quips from the front seat, pretending to dry heave.
“Shut up, Greg. I’m trying to make sure Blake doesn’t kill himself.”
“Yeah, okay . . .”
I tune everything out except Blake, paying close attention to how his body responds.
His heart rate randomly increases. It could be a symptom of the virus.
His skin feels hot against my cheek. Another possible symptom.
However, the hard bulge pressing into my crotch is definitely not from the virus.
Tears prickle at my eyes, and I shut them tight, squeezing them away.
All I wanted was Blake out of my life, but now that it’s a possibility, I don’t want it anymore.
At least not like this. Not this way. As we drive, the tension in Blake’s body starts to ease.
He practically melts into me, his muscles relaxing and his head dropping onto my shoulder.
“Are you good now?” I whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.
“I think so,” he says.
“You’re not gonna jump?”
His head slightly shakes against mine. “No.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened back there?” I ask, my fingers brushing against the nape of his neck. “It was like you were somewhere else entirely.”
“I don’t know,” he says. “But thanks for bringing me back.”
“What the fuck!?” JJ shouts. The engine revs, and the truck accelerates.
I scramble off Blake so I can see what’s got him in a tizzy. “What? What is it?” I ask, leaning between the passenger’s and driver’s seats to get a glimpse through the windshield.
Up ahead, a plume of black smoke looms over my dad’s property, just above the tree line.
A vehicle I don’t recognize sits parked at the end of the driveway, right in front of the gate.
I slip the pistol from my holster, double-checking that it’s fully loaded before spinning the cylinder and flicking it back into place. Greg pumps his shotgun.
“What is that?” JJ points a finger.
“What’s what?” Blake asks, snapping out of his daze. He leans forward, pressing up against me.
I squint, following JJ’s finger. It takes a moment for it to come into view clear enough to know what I’m looking at, what’s lying in the road. When it does, my jaw drops.
“It’s a body.”