Max thought about that for a moment. On one hand, it did seem strange to send out an emergency broadcast, to collect survivors in one place, but not have the faculty to handle the situation. The government had wanted people to come to them for safety. Even though Max assumed the plague wasn't curable, why wouldn't there be someone trying? On the opposite hand, Max couldn't help but think of all the things her father had feared. The government not being able to manage any issues, or even worse, being behind the apocalypse.
"Remember what my dad used to say about the world falling apart?" Max asked. She didn't look up at Griffin but continued to pack Sarah's wound and wrap a clean towel around it.
"Yeah. He was sure everything would fail," Griffin replied quietly.
"He always said that the government would be useless in a situation this widespread. His biggest fear was having to rely on them for anything," Max said. She stood and went to the bathroom to clean her hands with bottled water and soap. Griffin followed and leaned against the door jam.
"I was in the military, Max. I can't just ignore things when they are mobilizing and trying to help," Griffin said defensively.
"I understand you have seen things, I get it. It's a world you knew for a lot of years. But in the end, I don't think my dad was wrong. Which is ironic."
"Why ironic?" Griffin asked.
"Because he didn't live long enough to see his fears realized. I can't imagine how he would be right now. My sister and I strewn on opposite sides of the country, with no means of communication with the compound," Max said thoughtfully.
"Mitch would have seen this coming and had already come and gotten both you and Alex," Griffin grinned.
"Probably. Sometimes it was weird, you'd think he could see the future," Max smiled softly, remembering her father fondly.
"He sure predicted this."
"Well, I don't think he ever believed in things like the walking dead. But it wouldn't have taken much to convince him. I mean how do you deny what we're seeing all day long out there?"
"True," Griffin replied with a shrug.
"He always said you would leave and not come back. He saw that coming too," Max said. She clamped her mouth shut quickly after the sentence came out. She hadn't meant to bring up the past like that. Nonetheless, she felt under the gun with Turner figuring out Jack was Griffin's daughter. Their past grievances needed to be aired and handled before she could tell him everything.
"What? Why would Mitch have thought that? I always thought he liked me. And I didn't leave you and not come back, Max! What are you talking about?" Griffin said, rambling as he stood up straight, running his hand over his head in an aggravated motion.
"Oh, come on, Griffin. We aren't kids anymore, it's alright. You left for the Army and I was left wondering why I never heard from you again. I obviously got over it after all these years," Max lied. As she said the words it hit her how much she wasn't over it. Maybe it was because she was alone with Jack all these years, but she still held resentment for how he'd walked away from her.
"Max, I wrote you. I wrote you every day for a month after I was allowed. And then monthly, until I just stopped after a year of not hearing from you." Griffin looked her in the eye as he spoke. Max couldn't speak, the air was a dead weight in her chest.
"We weren't given access to a phone right away. But after I was, I called a number of times. Mitch said you didn't want to talk to me. I said I didn't believe him and I called again. You never answered the phone or came to the phone to tell me yourself." Griffin said. His tone said he was serious and his eyes held no misdirection.
"What are you saying? My father made sure I never heard from you?" Max asked quietly. The question wasn't really for Griffin to answer. What does this all mean? Max thought to herself. Her father had known she was heartbroken over Griffin leaving her. He also knew that Griffin was Jack's father. Why would he have prevented them from being together? True they had been barely out of high school, but they had plans and love that was serious.
As the facts flipped around Max's head, she stood silent. Anger began to well in her heart. Anger toward her dead father, who would never be able to answer the question of why he would do such a horrible thing to her. Was he that hellbent on keeping her on his compound, keeping Jack under his thumb, that he would lie and break her heart? Even after Jack was born, he knew that her heart was beyond repair, he never admitted to the lie.
"Max, say something," Griffin said from the doorway.
"I...don't have anything I can say I guess," she replied.
"Why didn't you call me, or my family, Max?" Griffin asked. Max looked at him and she was suddenly taken aback by the amount of emotion she could see on his face. It was too much for her. She started to feel like she was drowning but stuck in quicksand so she couldn't escape. She made a move to go around Griffin, to leave the bathroom, but he lightly grabbed her upper arm to stop her.
"Max, we need to work this out," he said, his breath tickled her ear. And that was almost her breaking point.
Suddenly Sarah shot up in bed and began to cough uncontrollably. The sound caught Max and Griffin's attention and they both ran to her side. It seemed Sarah wasn't exactly awake and able to communicate, but under the morphine's effects still. Griffin urged to back down and she curled up on her side in her sleep. Max inhaled quickly when she saw that the hands Sarah had used to cover her mouth were covered in blood.
Carefully, Max lifted one of Sarah's eyelids. With her co-worker Denise, she didn't know the signs, didn't know what to look for as the change came on. This time she was better prepared. As she lifted Sarah's eyelid, Max gasped and almost jumped back. The white of her eyes was gray, almost black in some places. Moving slowly, afraid of waking Sarah and not sure what state she would be in if she did wake, Max moved to look at her wound again. It was definitely getting darker and was also black in some places.
"It won't be much longer," Max whispered to Griffin who stood on the opposite side of the bed. "I'm sorry."
"She's a sweet girl," Griffin replied quietly.
Max didn't answer, just nodded her head. She imagined Griffin would see her in a different light. All Max saw was a sad situation where someone didn't know how to handle themselves, getting caught and killed. Sarah stomped on every nerve Max had. Nevertheless, Max would never hope for someone to die because they were annoying. And she had obviously cared for Griffin in some way. Max didn't know if those feelings were reciprocated, but she decided to tread carefully.
Leaving Griffin to sit next to Sarah and start his watch over her, Max went to the next room. Jack was prepping MREs with Turner watching in fascination. Max walked over and set out bottled waters for everyone to drink with dinner. She also fished out candy bars she had stashed, thinking everyone could use the sweet treat after the day they had gone through.
"Your daughter is quite smart," Turner said. Max turned to watch Jack prop the MRE heaters against rolled up towels.
"Yes, she is," Max replied, smiling at Jack. Jack beamed under her mother's praise.
"Momma taught me all sorts of stuff," the little girl said. She went about setting the small table with some sort of normalcy she craved.
"Griffin once told me you were raised by a doomsday prepper? Is that true?"
"Yeah. My dad was sort of off the deep end when it came to that stuff. But I learned and soaked up a ton during my childhood," Max replied.
Max was just opening her bottle of water to take a drink when the scream of a child came from outside. Max went to the window to peek out through the curtains. The scene wasn't one she wanted to see. A man, with a little girl that couldn't have been more than three-years-old, was trying to fight off infected that were clawing at them. Without even thinking about it, Max grabbed her tomahawk and ran for the hotel room door.
"Max! Wait!" Turner called after her.
Not used to having back up or waiting for help, Max ignored him and ran for the man. All she could see was a little girl that could easily die if the inf
ected got a hold of her. The man was swinging a pipe at the infected but wasn't able to get enough power behind it to end the infected. Max saw the three that were on top of them, but from the street additional infected seemed to be coming in, reacting to the little girl screaming. Her steps quickened as she got near, to put more power behind her attack.
Her tomahawk embedded in the first infected, a woman, who had just gotten a hold of the man's shirt at the back. In the next moment, she would have sunk her teeth into him, but Max's blade ended her and the body crumpled to the ground. The father swung toward Max as if to attack, but his pipe stopped just short when he realized it was a living person.
"Behind me, get behind me," Max said quickly, and she stepped around him to attack the next infected. Putting herself in the infected's path was her plan and it worked perfectly. The remaining two were on her in a moment, making swinging the tomahawk impossible. She sidestepped the first. Snapping out her foot, she planted a kick on the midsection of the second infected, causing it to take a few stumbled steps back. That gave her enough space to run and jump at it with her tomahawk, using her momentum to crack its skull with her blade. She held tight to the handle and she stepped past the body as it fell, yanking the blade free and turning to the next infected.
The infected had tried to follow Max but instead had found its original target and was ambling toward the father and child again.
"Don't think so, asshole," Max growled and ran to chop the infected in the back of the head. It collapsed at the feet of the man and the little girl in his arms cried out again and sobbed into his neck.
"Where are you going? You need to take cover. There's more coming," Max said motioning behind her. As she did Turner and Griffin came running from the hotel room with their guns.
"You left Jack alone with Sarah???" Max demanded angrily.
"I'm not dumb, Max, I locked the middle door so if Sarah...well she can't get in there," Griffin answered cryptically before turning toward the man holding his daughter close. "Where are you going, man?"
"We better figure it out fast," Max said, as the infected started getting in range. She went straight to the nearest large infected, a beefy man, dragging a foot behind him. How he was able to move as fast as he did was incredible, his broken foot causing no delay. She quickly ended him and ran back to the group of men. The father just stared at her as if she just arrived from another planet. How could anything surprise him after the fall of the world, Max wasn't sure.
"So, what's the plan?" Max asked.
"We were, uh, running for the motel. My car ran out of gas down the road. We were walking and then they just showed up," the man rambled.
"Ok, get him a room key, Turner, and let's get them safely into a hotel room," Max instructed. Turner didn't argue, just put his gun to his shoulder and headed for the motel office.
"Move toward the motel and keep your back to the wall. That way nothing can sneak up on you," Max told the father. He did as she said quickly and Griffin looked at her.
"What are you going to do, Max?"
"I'm going to make sure nothing makes it to our door," she replied and turned back toward the infected that were coming their way. Griffin stepped up next to her, pulling his own knife and preparing to go into the fight. Warmth spread through Max. Griffin being there to support her was something she had missed. Without thinking, she knew she could depend on him.
The pair walked forward toward the approaching infected, a united front. Just as they went in for the attack, Max looked over at Griffin and nodded toward her right, indicating the direction she was attacking. He nodded back and adjusted his position to take up her blind side. Max started by severing the hamstring of the first infected, causing its leg to collapse. She moved passed the body as it fell, briefly noting the sound of Griffin's blade ending the infected as she moved to the next coming their way.
Max swung her tomahawk with her right hand and gripped her bowie in her left. She used both blades as she varied her attack, depending on the distance between the infected she fought and the next in range to reach them. Sometimes she would catch the view of Griffin on her left, his blade flashing in the sun as he danced through the infected. He was smooth and comfortable with his movement, his confidence shining through his easy movements.
Yanking her tomahawk blade free of the last skull on her side, she turned to find Griffin watching her as he cleaned his bowie off on the infected he had just killed. They were both covered in gore and Max yearned for a real shower. Griffin rubbed his hands against his jeans, trying to clean the majority of the blood off. They were surrounded by bodies. The infected fell in heaps of limbs, awkward and foreign looking. Black orbs of eyes stared up pits of infection.
"I got the family in a room down the other side of the building," Turner broke the quiet walking up, surveying the area.
"Good. Do they need supplies?" Max asked.
"He said no. He was very nervous and ready to get rid of me. I think he's afraid of you," Turner said with a wry smile.
"Me? I would think there are more things to be afraid of," Max said defensively.
"Yes, but you come across kinda strong, Max," Griffin said.
"Thanks for the support," Max said, stalking away from the men. She was determined to find water to shower with. And she needed to get away from Griffin and Turner. Afraid of me? Why? Max's mind was full of questions. And for her, it was strange to feel like her feelings were hurt. But that was exactly how she was feeling. Her feelings were hurt that she ran to defend the man and his child, and in the end, he was afraid of her and her strength.
Max bristled as she walked. The father had some eye-opening to do. This world needed people like Max, Mitch had always said that. People needed her strength and her bravery. She wouldn't change who she was or the actions she took to protect people. Judgement was one of the reasons she stayed away from people, even before the plague came. She rarely felt like people would understand her. But now, she was the one that knew what needed to be done.
"Max, wait up," Griffin said, jogging to catch up with her at the motel office. Max was hoping for some sort of water dispenser that might have large bottles.
"What?" Max said through gritted teeth, spinning to face him.
"Turner didn't mean anything by it," he said, his hands up in a defensive measure.
"And you?"
"I'm not wrong, but that doesn't mean coming across strong is a bad thing. You're a strong person. That's a good thing."
She entered the office, leaving Griffin behind. To her annoyance, he followed her. The office was small and cramped. One wall filled with a vending machine, that had been emptied already. On the other side of the small area, a shelf took up a wall. It was full of pamphlets about hiking, rafting, and vacation spots. Fire starters now, Max thought to herself, again noting how things had changed so quickly in just under a week.
Walking to the back of the room, Max found the door that led to a private office. It was another too small room, meant for the one person that worked at the office. The desk was strewn with papers. The room smelled stale and of smoke, one worker apparently having no issues with smoking indoors. Max was surprised when she found what she had been searching for, two five-gallon bottles of water. They sat next to a water cooler that no longer had power.
"Score," she said out loud. Griffin just looked at her with one eyebrow raised.
"Looks at us, showers would be nice. Or at least a cold sponge bath," Max explained, gesturing toward the bottles.
"Gonna wash my back?" Griffin asked with a laugh.
"You're on your own, buddy," Max replied as she hefted a bottle onto her shoulder. Griffin grabbed the other.
Their light banter helped Max shake off the seriousness of the conversation they almost had. It wasn't the time to be worrying about personal relationships. It was the time to survive. If they were distracted by emotions and their history, someone could get hurt. Getting hurt was the last thing anyone needed. Max made a plan in her head, she
would deal with Griffin when they got the compound. Once there, they wouldn't be worrying about their lives every moment of the day. They would be behind solid walls.
An hour later Max was drying her hair as best as she could with the cheap motel towels. She laughed as she heard Griffin cursing at the cold water. They probably could have boiled some and warmed it up, but Max figured it was more fun listening to Griffin freeze. She twisted her short hair off her neck and secured it with bobby pins. Suddenly she felt self-conscious about her appearance, something completely pointless in the middle of a plague. She found herself wondering what Griffin saw when he looked at her. Did he see someone that reminded him of the youthful girl he once knew? Or did he see her as a stranger?
Dinner was cold by the time Griffin and Max were able to sit down and eat. Both of them shoveled the food down, understanding the calories were what was important right then. Max felt like she had expended all of the energy she had in her rage against the infected throughout the day. The bodies were piling up in the parking lot. Max thought about the twitching curtains she had noticed when they arrived. Where were those people when the infected were on their doorstep?
"We need to take shifts tonight," Griffin said, pitching his voice low for only Max to hear. He glanced over to where Jack and Turner played cards on the bed across the room. Max just nodded, her mouth full.
"It will be easiest to handle Sarah right after she dies," Griffin continued.
"Agreed. There's not much of a delay. But if whoever is watching her notices that she stops breathing, they can handle it right then," Max whispered. Griffin nodded his agreement, looking down at his MRE. He poked at the food inside without eating.
"I'll take first shift," Max said. She had hopes that she could be the one to handle her when she turned. Not because she disliked the woman, but to spare Griffin the pain of having to handle it himself.
Sitting alone in a chair across from Sarah's sleeping form, Max watched carefully as her chest rose and fell. It was periodic and slow. Out of precaution, Max checked Sarah's wound again. Unsurprisingly it was still slowly oozing blood. While the heavy flow of blood had slowed, the wound continued to seep and turn black. The injured woman hadn't woken since her dose of morphine around lunch. The medication would have worn off, but she was so close to death her mind didn't allow her to wake.
Survive (Sundown Series Book 2) Page 16
