Until the End of the World (Book 1)

by Sarah Lyons Fleming

  Nelly sighs. His eyes are red-rimmed. A drop of sweat falls off his nose when he shivers. I grab a blanket and tuck it around him.

  Nelly speaks through his chattering teeth in little bursts. “I’m just going to say it. I think I’m infected. I don’t know how long it takes from one little scratch, but you can’t sit here for days while it runs its course. You need to get going tomorrow.”

  “Jesus, Nelly!” I say furiously. Like I’d just go on my merry way. “If you think for one second I’m going to leave you here, you are out of your fucking mind!”

  Everyone looks aghast. Even Ana, who sits in the corner staring into space, has looked up.

  “Nel, you must be delirious,” Penny says in her soft voice. “We don’t know what it is. And even if we did, we’re not going anywhere.”

  He nods as his teeth clack together. I give him six more tablets of amoxicillin in the hope that it makes a dent. There’s a pouch of electrolyte juice mix in one MRE, and I use the enclosed heater to warm it. Nelly’s hands are so shaky I need to steady the cup for him. It’s like now that he’s admitted to thinking it’s LX, he’ll let us see how bad off he really is. Either that or he’s going downhill fast.

  CHAPTER 108

  Once Nelly began shivering so badly that it scared even him, he let me crawl onto his mattress. He’s hot as a furnace, and even though I know his chill is inside, I try to warm him. My arms feel miniscule around his broad trunk, but it seems to help. He finally drifts into sleep with only an occasional tremble.

  Bits and Ana sleep under the other blanket. James has Penny wrapped in his arms like a teddy bear. John takes first watch. He sits with a flashlight and checks our weapons. Maybe Peter was right: John knows what to do. We never would have gotten those cars off the road today without John’s expertise. I shut my eyes and see Peter on the dumpster, so I open them and stare into the darkness until they close in exhaustion.

  Nelly’s worse when I wake for watch just before dawn. His face is red and his breathing’s labored. When it’s light I force him to wake and take the last of the amoxicillin. He can barely swallow, and he turns his eyes to watch me without moving his neck. A few more pink streaks have joined with the first. They’re at his biceps now.

  “Can you eat?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. He won’t drink either, no matter how much I coax.

  “Cass.” He blinks to hold back tears.

  I know he’s working on some sort of goodbye speech, but I can’t hear it; I’ll die if I have to. I tuck the blanket under him. “Nelson Charles Everett, if you’re about to declare your undying love for me, then you can just save it until you’re better.” I grab his good hand and give a choked laugh.

  “Can’t you even be serious now?” he asks, but he manages a small smile. “I’m on my deathbed here.”

  “No, I can’t.” I point at him. “I learned from the master. And it’s not a deathbed. It’s a disgusting stained mattress. You can’t die on it, it wouldn’t be fitting.”

  He gives my hand a weak squeeze and drifts off but opens his eyes a moment later. His bright blue eyes have gone icy, and he turns to me with a wince. They remind me of the hazy eyes of the infected. A knife of fear stabs my gut, but when he smiles he’s the same Nelly.

  “Love you, darlin’.”

  I smile and try to keep the despair out of my voice. “Love you back.”

  CHAPTER 109

  When Ana wakes she sits outside on the grass and ignores Penny’s attempts to talk. She’s not in shock, at least not the medical kind. If she were a store she’d have a Closed for Business sign in the window. Penny and James offer to search for a replacement for the truck. I don’t like the idea of her out there. Penny feels Nelly’s head, and when she stands her eyes are puffy and resigned.

  “Pen, maybe you should stay here and I should go.” I touch her sleeve. “You aren’t…” I don’t want her to go, but I don’t want to leave Nelly, either.

  “I can shoot okay.” She shrugs, but her hand strokes the earpiece of her glasses. “I don’t want to sit here while James goes.”

  “You’ll look for more antibiotics? Stronger ones?” I’ve already clarified this a dozen times, but I figure once more can’t hurt. “And be careful?”

  She nods as she ties her hair back in a bun. Since Ana’s hair incident, I’ve taken to winding my hair into two buns when we’re somewhere dangerous. Nelly calls me Princess Leia, and James makes all kinds of nerdy Star Wars jokes that I don’t get.

  She smiles. “Hey, I thought Mother Hen was my job. You just take care of Nelly.”

  I try to smile back. “Okay.”

  We hug tight and then they’re gone.

  CHAPTER 110

  It’s been several hours, but there’s still no sign of Penny and James. Bits picks wildflowers; I sit in the doorway where I can see her. It seems like everyone is disappearing.

  Nelly hasn’t spoken since dawn. He’s lapsed into unconsciousness, and the streaks are moving fiercely to his shoulder. A sheen of sweat covers his face. His features look sharper, the skin moving away from the bones, like an old man. I pat his good shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, Nels. You’ll be okay.” I feel like I’m lying.

  He breathes heavily. Peter might have gone through this, except he was all alone, desperate for a drink, for a gentle hand. I can only hope that he was eaten so thoroughly there wasn’t enough of him left to turn. I would never say it out loud to the others—it’s such a sick prayer—but I have a feeling they think it too.

  I rifle through every backpack again hoping that something that will cure Nelly has magically appeared. Of course, there’s nothing, so I stomp around. Bits comes back in with a handful of flowers for Ana, who gives her a distracted smile.

  “Cassie,” John says in a gentle voice. “Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m not okay. It’s not fair!”

  We survived all these months and now look at us. We’ll never be in the clear. John nods his head in agreement, in acceptance, which makes me angrier.

  “Why are we even trying?” I demand. “What’s the point? Peter’s dead. Nelly—” My throat closes.

  John sits on one of the rickety chairs watching me while Bits huddles next to him. The tears come, and I wipe them away angrily.

  “I don’t get it!” I yell.

  “Everything happens for a reason—”

  I cut him off. “How do you know that? That everything happens for a reason? How are you so sure? Because I’m pretty sure there’s no good reason for all of this.” I wave my arm to encompass the whole world. I pick up the empty, useless amoxicillin bottle and throw it as hard as I can. It hits the wall with a sad little thwack. I look for something better to throw, but everything is too precious to destroy. Instead, I slam the water bottles into a line. I stack the food and arrange the weapons by the door as loudly as I can. Everyone jumps at the louder noises, but I don’t care. Nelly doesn’t budge, and that’s the only thing I care about. Here I am, allowing another person to die right in front of me. I won’t do it.

  “There’s a hiking trail on the map that cuts through to another town. I’ll find a pharmacy or something. I can take one of the bikes. I’ll get something stronger for the infection.”

  John’s eyes are full of pity. “Cassie, it’s too dangerous to go on a fool’s errand when James and Penny will be back.”

  “It’s not a fool’s errand, John! They’ve been gone for hours. What if they don’t come back?” I feel awful as I say it, but it’s true. Ana closes her eyes as I continue.

  “Amoxicillin is the weakest antibiotic in the world. There are others: Erythromycin, Cipro…” I can’t think of any more, so I stomp my foot in frustration. “I’ll find something. I can’t just sit here waiting for help that might not come. I’m not going to let Nelly die. I won’t!”

  “We don’t know—”

  “That’s right, we don’t know! It could be a regular infection. We need something stronger.”

  “
You’re right, Cassie. It could be a treatable infection. But I don’t want you risking yourself to find out it’s not. Wait a while longer. Please.” He raises and lowers his palms in an effort to calm me. “I know you’re angry. We’re all angry. It doesn’t seem fair, honey. But we don’t know what God has in store for us, what His plan is.”

  I can’t believe that this might be someone’s—or something’s— plan. That all of this is some sort of test. Some fucked up experiment designed to watch us fail.

  I shake my head. I don’t want to live in this kind of world, not if it means losing everyone I love, one by one. I’d rather die quickly and get it over with. A fury I’ve never felt before rises in me—a blind rage that vibrates through my body. I don’t care about being quiet, or how unfair I’m being, or whether or not I’m heading into danger. I need to do something to release it, so I pick up the empty chair and throw it against the wall. Bits whimpers when it crashes to the floor, but I’m too far gone to stop.

  “What, did He think to himself, ‘Oh, I know, I’ll kill all the kind people and babies and kids? And not only will I do that, but I’ll make them fucking zombies, too, to finish off the rest?’ ” I scream this at him, even though none of it is his fault.

  I throw on my pack and snatch my cleaver. John watches me calmly. I know how badly he wants me to stay, but I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t do something.

  “I’ll come with you,” he says.

  “No, you need to stay with Nelly, in case he wakes up. You—you take care of him. I don’t know if there is a God, or what His plans may or may not be. But my fucking plan is simple: Nelly lives. That’s it. I don’t think it’s too much to ask.”

  I look up at the ceiling. “So, God, I’m going to town now to get some medicine. Do me a favor and work with me here. Thanks.”

  I fly out of the cabin and stand at the top of the hill. My chest heaves. I feel like I’m drowning. I know that if I give into this sadness, I’ll never make it back, so I focus on my anger. I blow on that coal of rage and fan it into flames. I hear footsteps behind me and pray it’s not John. I’ve no space for apologies right now. But it’s Ana, with her pack and weapons. Her face is set and serious.

  “No one else is dying,” she says. Her eyes are hard and her lips thin into a grim line. “Not if we can help it. Let’s go.”

  We start down the dirt road to the trail. Nelly’s bike is way too tall, but I manage the bumpy, rough miles to town. I don’t even think about falling and don’t close my eyes once.

  CHAPTER 111

  We find a phone book at a gas station on the outskirts of town that lists an urgent care. A tourist map says it’s only a half mile away. Ana and I sit on the counter and eat Snickers bars that have melted and hardened and re-melted in the heat, but they’re still tasty.

  Ana wears black pants, black leather hiking boots and a black tank top. With her cleaver and her gloves she looks like some sort of hiking ninja. I tell her this and she smiles.

  “Thanks for coming with me,” I say.

  “And miss this?” She laughs, but her smile fades quickly. “We have to try something. If we could have helped—”

  She stares out the window at the gas pumps, blinking rapidly. I don’t know how many times I’ve replayed those moments in my head, trying to think of something else we could have done.

  I jump off the counter and face her. “I’m so sorry, Ana. It’s—”

  “It’s stupid. I think maybe I loved him. I think he liked me a lot.”

  “No,” I say. “He loved you.” I’m not sure if it’ll make it worse, but she should know. “I saw him look at you. He loved you, Ana. Believe that, okay?”

  I put my hand on her knee so she’ll look at me and see that I’m telling the truth. She nods and wipes her tears away.

  “Okay. Thanks, Cass.” She jumps off the counter and changes the subject, so she doesn’t cry again. “Ready?”

  “Ready, ninja-girl.”

  The road into town is full of abandoned cars and littered with empty bottles, plastic bags and cans, the detritus of fleeing humans. The streets are lined with beautiful old houses under an even older canopy of trees. It seems like any minute a Fourth of July parade might come marching past. It’s a storybook street, except for the battered screen doors ripped from their hinges and the windows with jagged black holes. Rotted bodies lie on overgrown lawns, so fully consumed by Lexers that they didn’t turn. The lucky ones.

  We’re careful when we park our bikes at Green Mountain Urgent Care, since a lot of sick people went to the hospital at the end. And some might still be there, buzzing against the windows and doors like trapped houseflies.

  We step into the stale air and gag at the smell. Beyond the intake desk is a hallway lined with doors. Two are closed and something bumps around in them.

  “Thank God they’re too stupid to open a door,” Ana whispers. “Can you imagine if they were smart, too?”

  I shudder. We’d have been dead long ago. We creep past and pause when we hear a whispery slithering sound, but nothing rounds the corner at the nurses’ station ahead. Another closed door reads Pharmacy. Ana raises her cleaver as I pull out a pistol and fling it open. The room is empty, except for shelves of medicine bottles, and my legs grow weak with relief. I feared the room would be stripped bare.

  We check the bottles by flashlight. I find the names of several antibiotics I’ve never heard of in a medication book on the counter and locate them on the shelves.

  “Get some liquid ones,” Ana suggests. She shines her light on some tiny bottles and pockets them. “They might work faster.”

  She stuffs a handful of needles in her bag before we step into the hall. Clipboards fall to the floor by the nurses’ station as three Lexers stumble toward us. They’re desiccated like mummies from the heat of being trapped inside for so long. The swishing sound of their stick legs rubbing together follows us as we rush out the door. We mount our bikes and watch them press against the glass with gnarled hands and gaping mouths.

  “Fuck you, assholes,” Ana mutters. I know exactly how she feels.

  We’re almost out of town when we run into a small pack gathered in the only open part of the street, between the abandoned cars. We can’t get past.

  “We can take them,” Ana calls.

  Our only other option is to find another way out, but we’re likely to run into an even larger group. Our bikes clatter to the ground, and we draw our cleavers from behind our backs, afraid guns will attract more.

  We stand shoulder to shoulder and let them come to us. The first to reach me is a gray-haired woman wearing a skirt and silk blouse. Her glasses still hang around her neck on a gold chain, and her jaw bone is exposed. The tendons that connect it to her skull contract as she snaps her teeth together.

  I am not getting killed by a fucking librarian.

  I ram the flat blade into her neck. Her head severs from her shoulders easily, a testament to John’s weapon-making skills. The next one, a young guy still in his tight biking outfit, separates from his head too. There’s no blood, just a sick splatter of gore. A growl escapes my lips. I hate them. It might not be their fault—they were just people once who wanted to live as badly as I do—but they’re making my life a living hell.

  I flip my blade and back up to wait for the next two: teenage girls with dirty, sparkly t-shirts. Out of the corner of my eye I see Ana kick a short man to the ground and take the heads off two more before spinning her blade one-handed and stabbing the one on the ground through the eye.

  The girls are close enough to each other that they could be whispering secrets in the school hallway. I puncture one of their eye sockets, then the other—two wet crunches in quick succession. Ana grunts as she shoves her blade home on the final Lexer and he drops to the pavement.

  We stand with our cleavers at the ready, but nothing else surfaces. I walk to my bike and grab my water bottle. I’m out of breath from fear and exertion. Ana looks past me and raises her cleaver ag
ain. Her hair glimmers as she spins and sticks it under the chin of a teenage boy wearing a Nascar T-shirt, who has come out from behind a crashed minivan.

  I huff my thanks and take a swig of warm water. “You really are a ninja,” I say. She’s hardly broken a sweat.

  Ana laughs. “We make a good team.”

  I’m amazed at how easily we dispatched them. Our practice has paid off.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here,” I say, and we mount our bikes and move on.

  CHAPTER 112

  My thighs burn with the uphill effort of the way back, but I ignore the pain. Every turn of the pedals brings me closer to Nelly, who may not have much time. A little voice whispers that he may already be out of time, but I ignore that too. The shadows are lengthening when we get back to the cabin, where a VW bus sits out front. Inside, James and Penny sit near Nelly, while Bits and John open a can of pilfered soup.

  “We ran out of gas,” Penny explains after she hugs us. “We had to walk, but we finally found some old hippie’s house. That’s where we got the car and stuff.” She points to a pile of sleeping bags, lanterns and food. It’s a good haul, but she doesn’t look happy. “There was no medicine. We stopped at every house we could. The town was too infected. I’m so sorry, guys.”

  “We got it,” Ana says. She slings off her bag. “We found some.”

  “Any problems?” John asks.

  “Nothing we couldn’t handle. Even the infected knew not to mess with Cassie today.”

  I smile grimly and take up my post near Nelly. He looks worse. His wound is a deep purple, and it smells. That voice whispers that it smells just like the Lexers do, but I tell it to go to hell. His skin is dry; he’s sweated out every ounce of liquid. Ana empties out her bag, and I begin to crush some pills when she stops me.

  She holds up a needle. “We should inject them.”

  “I’m afraid it won’t help if we do it wrong.”

  “I’ll do it,” she replies, her face determined. “I know how.”