“Let’s get out of here,” I said, grabbing my suitcase.
Wordlessly, Kiaya followed me out, and the door shut behind her, the click bouncing off the walls of the motel and echoing through the night.
The only sound as we made our way back across the parking lot was the pounding of our footsteps and the scrape of my suitcase’s wheels against the pavement. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized just how quiet it had gotten. There was no distant hum of cars, no voices or music, or drone of an airplane flying over. Even the animals had fallen silent as if awed into muteness by the sudden decimation of the human race. It was eerie and disturbing.
“It’s so quiet,” I whispered, keeping my voice low as if afraid the sound would wake the dead or something equally ridiculous.
“I know,” Kiaya said, her response as quiet as my statement had been.
We hadn’t been gone long, but it had been enough time to air the room out a little, making me immediately feel better about sleeping where someone—or more than one person—had died.
The first thing I did was plug Kyle’s phone in so Kiaya could make the dreaded call to his family. Part of me prayed they didn’t answer, but I immediately felt selfish because I knew that was wishing they were dead. With eighty-five percent of the population on the way out, it wasn’t even a long shot, but I still silently chastised myself for the thought.
“I’m going to call my mom,” I said, waving the phone like Kiaya needed proof as I headed for the door.
“I’ll be here,” she replied.
I didn’t bother going to the car before pulling Mom’s number up. There was no one around to hear me anyway.
My grip on the phone tightened a little more with each ring while my heart pounded harder and faster. Thankfully, it cut off after the fifth one and Mom’s voice, breathless and ringing with hope, followed.
“Rowan.”
“It’s me,” I said, thinking about Kiaya calling Kyle’s family and the hope his parents would feel at seeing his name light up the screen. I had to swallow before I could talk again. “I’m okay. How are you?”
“Scared. I haven’t left the house, but it’s so…dead outside. There’s nothing happening, and it’s terrifying.”
“I know,” I said, fighting to keep my emotions in check so I didn’t scare her even more. “It’s the same here.”
“Tell me you’re on the road.” Mom’s voice shook. “Tell me you’re on your way home.”
“Not yet. Soon.” I swallowed. “Kyle died, so we can leave tomorrow. Thankfully, Kiaya and I are healthy.”
“Thank God,” she said, the words sounding a little bit like a prayer. “I’m sorry for his family, but I’m so grateful you’re still okay.”
“We are. Both of us. We just need to get a good night’s sleep before heading out, but I plan to get moving early.”
“Good.” She exhaled, and I could tell she was struggling to stay calm. “I’ve been so worried, Rowan.”
The echo of a door shutting drew my attention, and I turned to find the asshole from the diner standing outside his motel room holding a Coke can.
His gaze was on me, when I said, “I know, Mom, but I’ll be there soon. I promise I’ll get home to you.”
“I know you will,” she said, but she sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.
We talked for a few more minutes, and I did my best to avoid the gaze of the creep from the diner, but he seemed intent on listening to my conversation. He wasn’t doing anything, really, just leaning against the wall outside his room like he couldn’t stand being in there anymore. Maybe it was the company, or maybe he just wanted to be on the road.
By the time Mom and I said our goodbyes, after I assured her over and over again that I’d be careful, I was more than ready to get back to my own room. Instead of going right away, though, I pulled up Dad’s contact info and hit send, crossing my fingers despite how childish it was. Just like the last time I’d tried, the phone didn’t even ring, but instead went right to voicemail. Shit.
I hit end without leaving a message and headed for our room. The asshole hadn’t looked away from me once, and it was starting to give me the creeps. I did everything I could to avoid looking at him as I hurried off.
Inside, Kiaya was stretched out on the one bed we’d bothered remaking, and she looked up when I walked in. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. She’s healthy, and thankfully, she took my advice and stayed inside.” I set my phone on the table. “Now I just need a shower. I feel disgusting.”
I’d only taken one step when she said, “I called them.”
I froze. “Kyle’s family?”
Kiaya nodded. “They didn’t answer, so I left a message.”
“You left a message telling them he was dead?”
“No. I told them to call me. If they haven’t called by the time we leave, I’ll just take the phone with me. It isn’t like he needs it.”
“True,” I said, nodding. “Thanks.”
“I don’t know if we’ll hear anything, but at least we gave it a shot.”
“Yeah.” I let out a long sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted, then continued my trek to the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
I showered, taking extra time to allow the sweat to rinse off my skin despite the lukewarm water. The towels were thin and scratchy and too small to wrap completely around my body, but I was too exhausted to really care. I ended up pulling my pajamas on even though my skin was still damp and my hair was dripping.
When I dropped onto the bed beside Kiaya, I felt certain I wouldn’t be able to get up for a week.
“I’m exhausted,” I mumbled into the lumpy pillow.
“Me, too.” Kiaya scooted down and pulled the covers up to her chin. “Let’s just go to bed. The sooner we get to sleep, the sooner we can get out of here.”
“Agreed,” I said, shifting so I could crawl under the covers.
A second later, the light clicked off.
“Goodnight, Rowan,” Kiaya said.
“Goodnight,” I mumbled.
I was asleep in what felt like seconds.
7
I woke before Kiaya, and despite my experience the previous morning, once again stumbled from the room without getting a bra. There seemed to be fewer and fewer people each time I left the room, and in the light of everything else going on, it just didn’t seem important—or worth it—to bother with putting one on.
Like I’d expected, the motel parking lot was deserted of people even though not a single parking spot was empty. After seeing the man in the gray sedan, I did my best to avoid looking into the cars I passed. There were bodies in more than one of them—of that, I was positive—but knowing and seeing were two different things. I was determined to get away from this motel without actually seeing any more.
The diner felt deserted compared to the other times I’d been here. The booths were mostly empty, and there was no line at the counter, and even the number of waitresses had been reduced. Where before I’d spotted at least five, now there were only two, and one of them didn’t look healthy.
“Two coffees,” I said to the woman at the counter.
Her red eyes seemed to have trouble focusing, and she blinked three times before finally nodding. On the other side of the room, the other waitress paused to stare at her co-worker, her expression filled with fear and worry. Unlike the woman in front of me, she looked healthy, although exhausted. She’d probably been running ragged over the last few weeks, had possibly even been wishing for a break in the crowds. This probably wasn’t what she’d wanted.
I looked around, studying the other people in the room, and was unsurprised to discover that of the dozen or so customers sitting at booths, not a single one of them looked well. People were slumped in corners, some coughing, some feverish, all of them looking like they should be tucked into bed, not sitting in a diner.
They probably had nowhere to go.
The waitress came back with two cups a
nd set them on the counter. “Five dollars.”
I nodded as I dug the money out, and I only felt a little guilty when I didn’t give her a tip. I needed the money, but in a few hours, she wouldn’t.
Outside, I hurried back across the street to our room, a cup in each hand, but had only made it halfway when I veered right instead, heading for my car. I wanted to get out of here as fast as possible, but it hadn’t occurred to me until now to check the gas gauge. Kyle had been driving when we got here, and I wasn’t sure how much gas we had left.
I set the cups on the roof so I could unlock the door then slid inside. The needle was on E, but I knew I needed to start the car to get a proper reading. Too bad once I had, the needle only lifted a tiny bit. The tank was almost empty.
“Shit,” I said, turning the car off and yanking the key free.
I’d need to drive down the street and find a gas station. Hopefully, there was one close. We got damn lucky we hadn’t run out on the way here.
I slammed the door and relocked the car before grabbing the cups off the roof, but froze when I turned and came face to face with the asshole. He seemed to be everywhere these days.
“Mornin’,” he said, and I couldn’t help noticing that some of his earlier hardness seemed to have disappeared.
Still, I kept my greeting stiff so he didn’t see my response as an invitation. “Morning.”
He looked me up and down, puckering his lips in thought before saying, “You ain’t sick.”
“No,” I replied. “I’m not.”
“Lucky.” His gaze moved past me to my car, and my body stiffened. “You headed out soon?”
“That’s the plan,” I said against my better judgment. I wasn’t really interested in this man knowing anything more about me, but it seemed stupid to lie when he’d just seen me in the car.
His gray eyes focused on me again. “Your friend die?”
“He did,” I said, quieter than before.
“So it’s just you and this other girl? All alone?”
I stiffened even more, but something in his expression made me answer. “It is.”
The man puckered his lips again and a second later spit. A glob of brownish saliva landed on the ground between us, making my stomach contort. The pain only got worse when he took a step closer to me. I wanted to back away, but there was nowhere to go. Quickly, my mind played through what I’d do if he decided to attack me. I’d throw the coffee at him. It was hot and might give me a chance to get away. If I screamed loud enough, maybe someone would come to my rescue. It was my only shot.
The man’s gaze darted around, almost like he was checking to see if anyone was paying attention, then he focused on me again, and the way his gray eyes flashed reminded me of clouds before a particularly violent storm. “I know I can be a hard ass, but what I got to say is important. Hear me?”
Part of me wanted to tell him to go to hell, but another part tingled from the urgency in his voice, so I whispered, “Okay.”
He nodded once in approval. “The first thing you gotta do is get you some supplies. Survival stuff and campin’ gear. And weapons.”
“Weapons?” I repeated, dumbfounded.
“Yeah,” he snapped, but more out of urgency than impatience. “Don’t be as dumb as that blonde hair makes you look. Got it? The first thing to go when shit hits the fan is law, and you’re goin’ east, which means you’re headed for a world of trouble. There’s a lot of nasty folks out there, and with nothin’ to stop ‘em, they’re gonna be on the prowl. You and that girl is gonna be travelin’ alone, which ain’t a good place to be. You gotta be prepared. You gotta be ready to defend yourself when the time comes.”
The man standing in front of me radiated violence, which made his warning ten times more ominous. If he was worried, if he was telling me to watch my back, then things were really bad.
I had to swallow before I could say, “I’ve never shot a gun.”
“Ain’t much to it.” He paused so he could turn his head and spit again. “Aim and shoot and pray the asshole in front of ya thinks you ain’t worth the trouble.” His gray eyes moved over me, and he frowned. “It’ll be a long shot, but it’s the best I can do for you. If you was headin’ west…” He sighed and shook his head then muttered, “Two girls travelin’ alone. You’re gonna be a walkin’ target.”
“Why are you helping me?” I asked, unable to keep the question in. The little bit I’d seen of this guy didn’t mesh with any of this. He didn’t seem like the type who would put his neck on the line for others, or who would even give them more than a passing thought. Yet here he was, giving me advice.
“Let’s just say I’m feelin’ a tad generous at the moment.” He sniffed and his lips puckered again. “Or maybe you remind me of somebody I used to know.”
“A girlfriend?” I was still trying to understand this man.
“Naw. I’m old ‘nough to be your daddy.” He let out a gravelly laugh and shook his head. “Thank God I ain’t never done that to the world.” He blew out a long breath as he looked back toward the motel, not focusing on me when he said, “Had me a girlfriend for a bit, long time ago, and she had two girls. Cutest things I ever saw.” His gaze moved back, studying me, but there was nothing in the look that made me uncomfortable this time. “One of ‘em was blonde like you. She’s probably ‘bout your age, too.”
“What happened to her?” I asked. “The girlfriend, I mean.”
“Same thing that always happens.” His upper lip curled. “She got to know me. Decided I wasn’t worth the effort.” He let out a snort that was half bitter, half ironic. “Don’t matter no more. She’s probably dead or will be soon.”
“True,” I mumbled, my thoughts on his warning more than on what he was saying now.
He had a point. I wasn’t really big into zombie fiction, but even I’d paid enough attention to my friends’ Facebook posts about The Walking Dead to know one thing. The zombies hadn’t been the only bad guys on that show. Yes, it had been fiction, but it was based on reality, and what this guy was saying rang true. People were nasty, and there were a lot who spent their lives masquerading as normal people when deep down they were anything but. A twist of fate, and society disappeared, and now their darker selves were free to come out. It made sense, even if I hadn’t thought about it before now.
“Thank you,” I said after a few seconds of silence.
The man’s eyebrows jumped in surprise, and his expression softened, giving me a glimpse of the person he’d probably been with those two little girls.
“You watch your back out there, ya hear?” he said.
“I will.”
He nodded twice. “Good.”
He turned away without another word and headed toward the diner, but had only gone a short distance before I called out, “What’s your name?”
He didn’t stop and didn’t look back, but he did answer me. “Angus. Angus James.”
People could surprise you, I knew that, but I hadn’t expected him to be one of them. Not in a million years.
He’d just passed the pool when I turned my back on him, heading for our motel room. I’d only taken two steps when the door next to ours opened and the muscled man stepped out. His eyes were red, and every inch of him looked exhausted, but he seemed to be healthy still.
He saw me and stopped, watching me head his way like he thought I was coming to see him. His expression was so thoughtful and full of scrutiny it made my scalp prickle, and I tried to force myself to look away but couldn’t.
“You’re still here,” he said when I was only six feet away.
“Not for long.” I jerked my head behind me toward my car. “Heading out this morning. Just have to get gas.”
I was just passing him when he said, “No gas.”
I froze, turning his way, telling myself I’d heard him wrong because that couldn’t possibly be true. Not when I wanted to get home so badly. “What did you say?”
“The gas stations in town are all out,” he rep
lied in a flat tone, as if he was talking about the weather and not the possible destruction of my plans.
My stomach dropped when I thought about what that might mean for us. He couldn’t be right. He had to be lying.
“They can’t be.”
He gave me a thoughtful look. “They are, though.”
For a moment, I could think of nothing to say, because what I needed had always mattered in my world. I needed new shoes? We had them that night. A new book bag? It was mine. Even things I hadn’t needed had been mine for the asking, which made it inconceivable that this huge thing, which I needed so badly, was out of my reach.
“But I have to get home,” I managed to say.
“And yet the world doesn’t seem to care,” he said, his tone dry.
I jerked away from his words. “You don’t have to be an ass.”
“I’m just being honest.” He looked past me, blowing out a long breath. “Trust me, there’s nothing in this godforsaken town. Nothing but bodies and more people waiting to die.” His blue eyes snapped my way. “And people like us. Stranded and fucked.”
For a moment, all I could do was stare at the guy with my mouth hanging open.
“There has to be a way,” I finally got out.
“If you come up with any ideas, let me know.” He exhaled and shook his head, his gaze moving over me as he did.
I nodded but barely registered what I was doing because I was too busy thinking about what the asshole had said and what this guy was saying and all the bodies in this motel and how we were in the middle of nowhere. We needed things, supplies and weapons, but could we get them here? This was a small town, and it wasn’t like there was a Wal-Mart. In fact, I’d only seen a few businesses, nothing that would really help us.
I couldn’t think, especially with this guy staring at me, so I headed for my room, waving one of the cups of coffee at him as I started walking. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, but I didn’t look back.
Inside, Kiaya was awake and dressed and sitting in a chair, her bag packed and resting at her feet. Seeing it made my stomach drop. I hated being the bearer of bad news more than anything.
Far Series (Book 1): Far From Home Page 8
