by Dia Cole
Reed glanced up. “Cool.”
“No, it’s not cool.” There is some seriously bad juju going down.
Reed’s grin only widened. “This is one kick ass trip.”
I thought about talking some sense into him, but quickly decided against it. There were benefits to him thinking this was all a hallucination. First, it kept him from having a complete breakdown over what happened with Ronnie and Cami. Second, it postponed the inevitable emotional fallout from us spending the night together.
I ran my suddenly damp hands down the front of my jeans. God, I can’t believe I bribed him with sex. What am I thinking?
The answer, plain and simple, was that I wasn’t thinking. I was reacting emotionally and physically, which was only going to make everything more painful later.
But there wasn’t time to worry about it now. I grabbed Reed’s arm. “Come on. We’ll go in Cami’s car.” I held up the keys I’d slipped out of Cami’s purse before we left. How like Cami to have a sparkly lip-shaped keychain.
Cami…
A lump rose in my throat. I took a deep breath and forced the pain away. I can’t think about her right now.
Reed pointed the bat he was holding across the street. “We should take the love bus.”
I grimaced at Gran’s beat-up Volkswagen van moldering on the side of the street. Its flaking burnt-orange paint job was plastered over by hundreds of bumper stickers. “That thing hasn’t run in ten years.”
“I’ve been fixing her up.” Reed flashed me a panty melting smile that made me want to drag him back into the house and screw him senseless on his waterbed. “Come on, let’s take it for a spin.”
How about I take you for a spin? I took a deep breath, wrangling my hormones down. “Cami’s car is new.” I nodded in the direction of the fire-engine red sports car.
He pursed lips that were far too kissable. “The three of us won’t fit in that. Like Gran used to say, trust in the love bus.” He pulled his hand from mine and danced over to the decrepit vehicle. “I’ll drive. Even high I’m a better driver than you. Besides, she has a manual transmission and you can’t drive stick.”
True enough. Grumbling, I stuffed Cami’s keys in my purse and followed him to the van.
Reed rounded the vehicle ahead of me. He opened the front passenger door and gave a gallant bow.
The smell of marijuana and cheeseburgers wafted out as I gingerly climbed into the tattered vinyl seat. It was embarrassing how tender I was down there. Did having sex always hurt or is it something I’ll get used to? Cami would give me the unvarnished truth, but I couldn’t ask her because… she’s dead.
My insides hollowed out and tears burned the back of my eyes. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
By the time Reed circled back to the driver’s side and jumped into the front seat, I’d forced a neutral expression on my face.
“Ready for an adventure?” He set the bat down between us.
I just stared at him, unable to deal with his jovial attitude.
He put the key in the ignition and turned. The engine coughed and made a grating metal on metal sound. “She just needs a little time to get warmed up. Don’t you, love bus?” He rubbed the cracked dashboard affectionately.
I drummed my fingers on the side of the window. Time was something we didn’t have. “You have one minute to get this thing started or we’re switching vehicles.”
“She’ll start,” he promised.
The engine finally turned over.
I glanced out the window as Reed drove us down the street.
The neighborhood was quiet, but that wasn’t abnormal for this time of year. College students rented many of the houses on our street, and most of them went home on winter break. The rest of the homeowners weren’t exactly the eight-to-five white-collar crowd.
Reed waved to Jerry, a giant bear of a man who was pushing his trash can to the curb.
Jerry, who hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt, tipped his open beer in our direction.
“Gotta remember to take the trash out,” Reed muttered as he made a left at the intersection.
“We’ve got more important things to worry about than trash.” Like the bodies of our dead friends in the living room. I dug my fingers into the fuzz escaping from the holes in my seat.
“Mm-hmm. So, I was thinking we could do Thai tonight.”
I blinked rapidly. “What?”
“You know, for that birthday dinner you promised me. I’ve been craving some yellow curry from Lotus. Do you think Eden would give me a hard time if I got chicken instead of tofu? It’s my birthday and all.”
“Can you just drive,” I said tightly.
“Right—Jesus.” Reed slammed on the brakes.
Peeling myself off the dash, I scowled at him.
He was staring out at the liquor store where Uncle Duncan had parked last night. In front of the store, a man was pinned to the ground by a ragtag-looking group of men and women.
The man screamed and tried to beat them off. Flesh tore. Blood spurted.
Bile clawed its way up my throat. “Oh, my God. They’re eating him alive.”
“I should help that guy.” Reed fumbled with his seat belt.
I grabbed his arm. “Are you crazy? There are five of them.”
“Relax. I’ll be fine. None of this is real.” He started to open his door.
I leaned over him and yanked it closed. “Family first.”
The man on the ground stopped moving. The crowd seemed to lose interest. One by one, they stood and looked our way.
“Reed, drive!”
“Aye Aye, Captain.” Reed shifted, pressed the gas pedal, and the van shuddered down the street.
I glanced back at the crowd stumbling after us. The vacant looks made every hair on my body stand on end.
Reed hummed as he switched gears. “Do you want to stop at the Grinder? It’s on the way?”
“We’re not stopping for coffee!”
“You’ve got to chill. It’s not as if the world is ending.” Chuckling at his joke, he reached in his pocket and fished out a clove cigarette. A moment later he lit the end of it and the spicy-sweet smoke filled the van.
Where do you go when the world is ending? Away from people was the obvious answer. “We have to get out of the city.” Remembering Duncan’s offer made my pulse slow. Yes. We’ll go up north. “We need to meet Uncle Duncan back at the house by nine. We’re going with him to the cabin.”
“That’d be fun. We could go skinny dipping in the creek like we did when we were kids. Better watch for snakes.” Reed wagged his eyebrows suggestively.
The chaotic scene in front of us snared my attention. “Crap. It’s a madhouse here.” News vans and cars clogged the street in front of the police station.
Reed pulled up as close as he could to the entrance. “I can’t park here.”
“You’ll have to wait for me. If they make you move, circle the block.”
“But—”
I jumped out before he could argue. Clutching my purse to my side, I crossed the street.
It looked as if a press conference was going on. A gaggle of reporters with microphones outstretched surrounded a barrel-chested man in a police uniform.
“Chief Foster, what steps will the department take to control the Z-virus?”
“How is the department responding to reports of mobs attacking people throughout the city?”
“Is it true that soldiers from Fort Drexel shot three patients at the hospital earlier this morning?”
Oh, God. It sounded as if the city was going to hell in a handbasket. I hurried past the media circus to the twenty-foot-tall glass doors looming ahead. Pushing through one of the heavy doors, I came face-to-face with a metal detector and a bald officer blocking entry to the lobby.
The officer pointed at the conveyer belt. “Put your purse on the belt, ma’am.”
I set my purse down and watched it move under the X-ray scanner.
He waved me forwa
rd. “Step through the metal detector, please.”
I walked through.
Beep.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Could you please step to the side and empty your pockets?”
Crap. I just remembered that I’d grabbed my father’s knife and tucked it into my waistband before we’d left. Blood drained from my face. No doubt carrying a weapon into a police department was a crime.
“Ma’am.”
Sweat dripped down my neck. I pulled the insides of my pockets up so he could see they were empty. “I have a belly button ring, it probably set it off.” Hoping to distract him with a little flesh, I flipped up the bottom of Reed’s shirt. The red gem hanging from the gold ring winked under the fluorescent light.
The officer didn’t look convinced, or even mildly enticed by the sight of my abs. He grabbed a wand and waved it over my body. As the wand closed in on the small of my back, it let out a shrill noise.
“Turn around, ma’am.”
With a sinking sensation in my stomach, I complied.
The officer slowly raised the hem of my shirt.
A scream inside the lobby drew his attention.
I craned my neck around to see an older man on the ground. He was spasming and flopping in a pool of blood.
The elderly woman with him cried out, “Help. My husband’s hurt.”
“Stay here,” the officer ordered before running into the lobby.
Taking advantage of the distraction, I snatched my purse from the end of the conveyer belt and hurried after him.
A growing ring of people surrounded the man on the floor.
“What happened?”
The elderly woman wrung her hands. “I don’t know. We were waiting to file a police report and Ernest collapsed.”
The old man stilled. Blood continued to flow from his head.
I felt terrible for him and his hysterical wife, but there wasn’t anything I could do. I sidestepped the crowd and walked up to one of the glass windows near the front of the lobby.
“I’m here to bail someone out of jail,” I said to the middle-aged, curly-haired woman on the other side of the glass.
She continued staring over my shoulder at the drama unfolding behind me.
I rapped my knuckles on the glass partition to get her attention.
The woman shot me an annoyed look. “What d'ya want?”
“I’m here for Eden Walker. She was one of the protesters arrested last night.”
The woman typed something into her computer. “Her hearing hasn’t started yet.” She jabbed her finger at the closed blue doors to my left. “Court’s running behind today. Take a seat.”
Chewing on my thumbnail in frustration, I walked over to the double doors. They were locked. Through a small window in one of the doors, I could make out a hallway where a group of women wearing black-and-white striped jumpsuits stood in a long line. They were handcuffed and their feet were shackled. Several bored-looking jailers stood beside them.
I scanned the line and quickly found Eden standing over a blue-haired prisoner who was slumped against the wall. The woman’s face was pale as a bone, and when Eden tried to help her to her feet, she swayed back and forth. As Eden called for one of the jailers, I got a look at the black veins running up the length of the woman’s throat.
“Get away from her, Eden,” I shouted through the window.
Damn it. She can’t hear me.
I yanked on the door. It didn’t budge.
Two paramedics, a tall thin white man and a short dark-skinned woman, rushed into the lobby.
“Get back,” barked the bald officer to the growing crowd around Ernest.
People moved away, allowing the paramedics access.
“What happened?” asked the female paramedic.
The elderly woman blinked at her. “I don’t know. Ernest said he wasn’t feeling well, and then he keeled over.”
“He hit his head pretty hard,” added the officer.
The male paramedic knelt down next to Ernest and pressed his fingers against his throat. “I’m not getting a pulse.”
“He’s dead. Oh, my God. He should’ve never gotten that vaccine,” screeched the older woman.
Another victim of the canine flu vaccine?
I shuddered, feeling a chill skate down my spine. I need to get my sister out of here ASAP.
The officer grabbed the flailing woman’s arm. “Calm down, ma’am. Everything is going to be okay.”
Ernest twitched and spasmed.
The male paramedic looked down at Ernest, his hand still on the injured man’s neck. “What the hell? I still can’t find a pulse.”
Dread washed over me. I knew where this was going. “Get away from him.”
Every head in the lobby swiveled in my direction.
I gulped, feeling the scrutiny of a dozen pairs of eyes. “He’ll attack you. I’ve seen it before.”
The paramedics gave me blank looks.
“What’s she talking about?”
The officer took a step toward me. “Hey, didn’t I tell you to wait back over there?”
Ernest made a gurgling sound. His eyes flew open.
The male paramedic leaned over him. “Relax, sir. Can you—”
Ernest clamped his jaws around the paramedic’s throat.
People screamed.
“Let him go!” shouted the officer.
Ernest ripped out a hunk of the paramedic’s throat.
Blood sprayed the crowd.
Ernest’s wife fainted.
The paramedic collapsed on his side, his hand pressed to his neck. His eyes were wide with shock. Blood poured from his wound.
The female paramedic let out a cry and dug through her medical bag. “I’ve got you, Todd. Stay with me.”
Horror froze me in place.
It’s happening all over again.
Still gnawing on the paramedic’s flesh, Ernest staggered to his feet. He stared at the surrounding people with filmy white eyes.
The officer motioned for everyone to get back. He pulled out his gun and aimed it at the old man. “Get down on the ground.”
I wanted to tell him his words were useless. Whoever Ernest had been was gone. The creature left in his place wouldn’t respond to orders. But it wasn’t as if the officer could’ve heard me over the panicked crowd.
Ernest growled and lunged for the officer.
The officer opened fire on him.
Bullets slammed into the old man’s chest. Impossibly, he kept coming.
The blue doors flew open.
I jumped to the side, barely avoiding being trampled by the jailers.
They joined the officer, forming a semicircle around Ernest.
I caught the edge of the blue door before it closed and darted inside.
A sea of anxious female faces greeted me. It was clear the prisoners didn’t know what was going on.
A harried-looking man in a suit stood at the front of the long hallway. “Back in line, ladies.”
He was drowned out by the sound of gunfire.
“Eden,” I shouted.
My sister’s eyes widened when she caught sight of me. “Lee, what are you doing here?”
“Getting you out.” I waved her over. “Come here.”
“I can’t leave Claire.” She looked down at the woman who’d sunk to the floor. “She’s sick and no one’s helping her.”
I used my no-nonsense big sister voice. “Get over here now.”
“But… but...” She motioned to her shackled feet.
“Hop if you have to, but get the hell over here.”
The guy in the suit looked over as she hobbled toward me. “Hey, you can’t be in here.”
Flipping him off, I grabbed my sister’s arm and dragged her through the door into the lobby.
She started to protest, but went silent when she caught sight of the officers standing over the old man’s body.
Ernest looked as though he’d been through a human-sized hole punch. He was riddled wit
h bullet holes from his brown loafers to his bloody goatee. The top of his head had been blown off and the rest of his face was unrecognizable.
More officers streamed into the lobby from a door on the opposite side of the building.
I shoved my purse in front of Eden’s hands. “Hide the cuffs under this and take short steps. Okay?”
She nodded jerkily.
Keeping a firm grip on her wrist, I tugged her forward.
We hadn’t gone more than ten feet before we caught the attention of a statuesque blonde officer. “Hey, stop right there.” She stepped away from the cluster of officers hovering around Ernest’s body and glared in our direction.
The sound of screaming saved us.
The blonde snapped her head around and gaped at the sight of the male paramedic attacking his partner.
The female paramedic let out a cry as she tried to beat him back with her medical bag.
He clamped his jaws around her forearm and bit down.
Her scream of surprise turned into a shriek of pain.
Even from this distance, I could make out the vacant expression in the man’s opaque eyes. He’s one of them.
A sea of officers in navy blue uniforms surrounded him, guns drawn.
At the same time, a large group of reporters rushed into the building.
“Get the media out of here,” shouted the blonde officer.
This is our chance. I tugged on Eden’s wrist. “Keep walking.”
Somehow I pulled her through the lobby and the mess of reporters.
Once through the glass doors, I forced out my anxiety in a rush of breath. We’d made it out of the station. Now our lives depended on us making it out of the city.
17
Hunter
“I don’t see anything,” Jen said, peering down at the empty road directly below us.
I sniffed the dry air, detecting no vehicles in the vicinity.
"This could take all day," she groused. Short tendrils of dark hair danced around her face, temporarily softening her harsh features. As she scraped the errant strands back into the tight bun under her combat helmet, I couldn’t help comparing the battle-hardened soldier to my mate.
They both shared the same dark hair and golden-hued skin, but that’s where the similarities ended. Jen’s six-foot-tall, muscular frame was closer to my hulking build than my dancer’s delicate and curvaceous one. And Jen’s gun-metal gray eyes were as inviting as razor blades, while Lee’s soft brown eyes could seduce a eunuch.
