The Plague Box Set [Books 1-4]

by Jones, Isla

  I whispered, “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” he said, his voice as low as mine, though not as tired.

  ‘Then what are you doing here?’ I thought. Instead, I asked, “Can’t sleep?”

  Sometimes, in the RV when he couldn’t sleep we’d sit at the bench together. We rarely spoke, and I’d always assumed that due to the small space he didn’t have any other place to sit. Either Vicki or Mac would be in the bedroom and Leo chose to sleep in the passenger seat. But it seemed he didn’t sleep much. We’d just sit there on the bench, not speaking, sometimes sharing cups of teas, and looking out at the darkness through the window. After what Vicki had said outside, I wondered if our quiet nights together hadn’t just been awkward circumstance—they may have meant more to him than they did to me.

  “Just got off watch,” he whispered, folding his forearms on the edge of the piano top. He rested his chin on his forearms. “Were you sleeping?”

  “Almost.”

  “Mind if interrupt your rest for a moment?”

  “You already have,” I noted.

  He smirked, grabbing my bag as he stood.

  With a heavy sigh, I slipped the blanket from my body and sat up. Rubbing my eyes, I ignored Cleo’s growl as Leo picked her up. I followed him out of the room, hoping Rose didn’t wake and see us. Though, a part of me wished she did wake and see us. It was quite the confliction.

  Shadowing Leo, we went up the stairs two floors, and down the hallway. He pushed through a set of double-doors, revealing the master suite.

  “You can sleep on the bed,” he said, still quietly, and placed Cleo on the mattress. “I’ll sleep there.” He gestured to a cosy love-seat against the wall.

  I was too tired to argue. Not only was I on the verge of sleep standing up, it had been a long time since I’d slept on an actual bed. Still wearing my jeans, boots, and t-shirt, I climbed onto the bed and buried myself beneath the feathery duvet.

  The moment my head hit the soft pillow, my eyelids fluttered shut and my entire body melted into the mattress. My lips lazily parted to issue words of gratitude, but all that came out was a peaceful groan.

  8.

  Boots flat against the dashboard, I drummed my good hand on my knee and watched the scenery pass by. Leo and I were in the shabby blue pick-up truck, followed by James and Adam in the red pick-up truck. As intended, we’d left the farmhouse at dawn, headed for the medical centre in the next town over. Leo had made me wear my shoulder sling ‘to heal better’. Vicki had been my saving grace when she’d offered to babysit Cleo in the RV for me. If Mac hadn’t stayed behind with her, I doubt I would’ve accepted her offer, given her asthmatic weakened state.

  “That’s familiar,” commented Leo. He kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “What is it?”

  I stopped tapping my hand against my knee and frowned at him. “Huh?”

  “The beat you’re making,” he explained. “What song is it?”

  “Oh.” I blinked, having not realised I was replicating a particular song. I thought for a moment and grasped the notes in whispers of memories. “Human, by Rag’n’Bone.”

  “Man.”

  I glanced at him.

  “It’s Rag’n’Bone Man.”

  “Was,” I corrected. “He’s probably dead now like everyone else.”

  “Everyone isn’t dead. We’re not.”

  “Yet.”

  Leo grinned, hand propped lazily on the steering wheel. His other hand dangled out the window, over the car door. “What has you in such a morbid mood this morning? Didn’t you sleep well on that bed?”

  “Like a baby,” I said falsely.

  “A terrible cliché. Babies are atrocious sleepers.”

  I reclined the passenger seat to increase my level of comfort. “Did you have one?” My boldness surprised even me.

  Leo looked at me, startled.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have asked that—”

  “No,” he said. “I didn’t have any babies; no kids, no wife.”

  A girlfriend? I asked the question in my head. I was too cowardly to say it aloud, and I wasn’t even sure why I’d wanted to ask in the first place. Would it matter if he’d had a girlfriend, if he’d been in love? We’d all had lives before this—then again, those lives seemed more like distant dreams every passing day.

  After a few minutes of silence, Leo asked, “What’s wrong?”

  I was taken aback by the alien kindness in his voice and shot him a bewildered look. He didn’t notice, or pretended not to.

  After a moment, I replied, honestly, “I had a nightmare.” My cautious expression gave way to stony anger as he chuckled at my expense. “It’s not funny.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Winter, we’re living in a nightmare.”

  “That’s exactly why it would be nice if my dreams weren’t bad, too.”

  “What did you dream about?”

  I adjusted my shoulder sling. “Death.”

  “Anyone in particular?”

  “Yes.” I fiddled with the broken window roller. “I dreamt that I killed Cleo.”

  “And you were an infectee?”

  “Original, right?”

  “Reasonable, I would say,” he opposed. “Eventually, we will all die. But only some of us will be infected. Not you, though.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “You survived for five months, just you and your dog,” he explained with a lazy shrug. At my fierce glare, he added, “Cleo.”

  I grew tired of him calling her ‘your dog’, ‘that dog’ and ‘the mutt’.

  “You must be doing something right,” he said.

  I eyed him. “I never told you that,” I said. “About being on my own since the start.”

  “Ah, you know how it goes,” he said with a chuckle. “You told Vicki, she told Mac, he told me. Nothing is private in this group. There’s not much to do but talk.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. I wasn’t upset with Vicki. It wasn’t necessarily a secret, or anything. I just hadn’t told Leo. It’d never come up before.

  “How?”

  I furrowed my brows at him. “How what?”

  “How did you survive on your own for so long?” He asked. “Not to offend you, but I find it difficult to imagine.”

  I was offended. It showed in my scowl. “Why do you say that?”

  Leo seemed to carefully consider his next words. As he thought, I kept my slitted eyes fixed on the side of his face, daring him to say it. And he did, bluntly; “You don’t seem capable.”

  “You don’t know me well enough to make that judgement,” I snapped.

  “I said you don’t seem capable. Not that you aren’t capable,” he said calmly. He made no apology, in his eyes or voice.

  I scoffed. “Because I’m scared? Fear doesn’t make me any less capable than you.” — At this, he grinned widely, almost daring to laugh. — “I’ve done things to survive, I stayed away from populated areas, I moved only during the day when they were asleep, and I have a trick up my sleeve.”

  He quirked his brow, appearing interested. “A trick?”

  I wasn’t in a sharing mood, and I remained mistrustful of him. “It’s a secret.”

  He hummed and nodded thoughtfully. When he spoke, however, his words caught me off guard. “Have you ever killed anybody?”

  I blinked at him, stupidly at first. As his question sank in, I frowned at my boots rested against the dashboard. “I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “You either have or you haven’t.”

  “It’s not that simple.” I paused and looked out the window. Whizzing by us was the crispy grass of the landscape, browned by the hot Texas sun. We passed an infectee feasting on a deer by the side of the road. The ones out during the day were usually alone. I wondered why, until it looked up at us with wild red eyes and chased after our cars. Within seconds, I could barely see it in the side-mirror
, fading into the orange background of desolate Texas. “The world isn’t simple anymore,” I said quietly. “People aren’t good. They never were, but they pretended. All pretence is gone, now.”

  I could feel his algae-eyes smoothing over my face as he considered me. “If you believe that, why did you come to us?”

  “You came to me,” I corrected.

  “You stayed.”

  “Because you’re headed to Washington D.C.,” I answered honestly. “And because you saved my life. I’m safer with you and the group than alone.” I looked at him, noticing the way his eyes glowed darkly beneath his chocolate-brown hair. “When I was younger,” I said, “I loved the ocean, but was terrified of sharks. I’d still go in the water, but only if others were in the ocean, too. My plan was always the same—Make sure there are a few surfers ahead of me, and people to my left and right. So, if a shark came, I’d know before it reached me.”

  “You’d see the others go down first, giving you time to swim out of the water,” he said understandingly. “That’s why you’re with us.”

  “It’s one of the reasons,” I admitted. “Does that make me a bad person?”

  “It makes you a survivalist.”

  “What does that make you?” I asked with genuine intrigue. “You saved my life, but I wouldn’t have done the same for you. You’re not a soldier, you have no obligation to help people, but you’re leading a group of survivors across the country. We slow you down. Why help us?”

  “You make out like I’m a better man than what I am.” He smiled bitterly. “The group is valuable. They will serve their purpose in D.C. I just have to get them there first.”

  “Valuable, how?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  He looked at me, secrets swimming behind his green irises. “On what we find in D.C.”

  Realising that he wasn’t going to divulge any more, I unbuckled my seatbelt and made myself comfortable. I wondered if Rose knew Leo’s plans for the group. Had they ever spoken about his mission? Had they ever spoken at all?

  As we reached the end of the dirt road, and pulled into a side road, I rolled around on the seat to face him. “Rose doesn’t like me because of you,” I stated bluntly.

  Leo, who had been eyeing a rusty road sign, burst into laughter. We drove further down the road, nearing the street we sought. “Are you blaming me for her irrationality?” He asked, once his laughter died, and all that remained was a charming smile.

  “No. But it’s because she likes you that she hates me,” I explained. I shoved one hand underneath by head, using it as a pillow; my other hand dangled from the gap in the shoulder sling, tucked against my flat chest. “Vicki said I have you, whatever that means. And that’s why Rose hates me.”

  “Do you care that she’s hostile?”

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “Not because I want to be buddies with her, but because it makes it harder for me. I’ve been with you guys for … How long?”

  Keeping track of days, weeks, time in general, was quite the feat these days. Leo didn’t seem to face the same obstacle. “Eleven days,” he said.

  “Right.” I nodded. “I’ve been with you guys for eleven days, and my only friend is Vicki. I’m pretty sure that that’s because she doesn’t have anyone other than Mac. Whenever I’m alone with the rest of the group, I get anxious.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not welcome,” I said, exasperatedly. “How would you like to be trapped on the road with almost thirty people who don’t like you, whisper about you, and generally scowl at you whenever they feel like it? It’s not the worst thing in the world, obviously, but it’s becoming … exhausting.”

  We veered right, now creeping down a vacant main street. “Unfortunately, it won’t change. Vicki was shunned the moment we were separated from the others.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Leo explained, “It’s a bit like high school. Rose leads the central clique, and whoever she dislikes, the others dislike, too. Vicki and Mac began their relationship early on, but when we were separated, Rose changed her attitude towards her.” He paused and turned on the indicator for the car behind us. He then parked at the side of the road, directly in front of ‘DR. HOLLOW’S CLINIC’. “You see,” he continued, turning the car engine off, “the thing with Rose is that she wants whoever’s in charge. Before we were separated, she had her sights set on other soldiers. Now, she feels threatened by anyone who comes in between her and Mac, James, or myself.”

  The name Castle sprung to mind. Vicki had mentioned him and Rose’s interest prior to the group disconnecting. Was he in charge, too?

  Leo pulled out the keys from the ignition and stuffed them in his pocket. “Rose uses her attractiveness as a bargaining chip for protection. The whole group is protected, but when it comes down to it, if we are under attack, Mac will save Vicki before anybody else. He will dismiss his duties for her—I know that, but I can’t stop it. That is what Rose wants; complete and utter devotion.”

  “Did she have it?” I asked frankly. “With you?”

  “Rose has never been a priority of mine,” he said, checking the rear-view mirror. James and Adam parked the car behind us, then climbed out. “But she thinks you’re my priority. It’s mere jealousy, Winter. I wouldn’t let her get to you.”

  “Jealousy because I ride in the RV?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well,” I said. “I’ll let her keep thinking that.”

  We swung open our creaky doors as Leo laughed, and climbed out of the pick-up truck. When I slammed the door shut, I looked over the bonnet. “If only she knew you keep me close,” I said, “because you don’t trust me. That,” I added, “and I’m Vicki’s shadow, so you have to put up with me.”

  Leo’s grin faltered. For a moment, I’d thought he was going to say something. But Adam smacked the hood of his car and said, “Let’s get this over with.”

  *

  Leo and I stuck close together in the pharmacy, while James remained outside on look-out duty, and Adam ransacked the clinic. Inside the medical clinic there were five rooms, including two examination rooms, a lunch room, a bathroom, and the attached pharmacy. It was small, too small to scavenge everything we needed, but the pharmacy had asthma medication to last Vicki a few weeks. From the orderly appearance of the clinic and pharmacy, it was clear that they hadn’t been raided before. Good news for us.

  Leo handed me a plastic bag. A whisper of my old self echoed in my mind; They’re bad for the environment, I’d wanted to say. But it hardly felt like it mattered anymore. The environment was bad for us, now. Was this—the end of the world, the virus that plagued us—our punishment? Was it mother nature’s revenge? I wouldn’t blame her if it was. Perhaps global warming just wasn’t quick enough for the earth. It needed something swift, deadly, and karmic.

  As I rammed random boxes of medicine into the plastic bag, I watched Leo out the corner of my eye. He was silent, lost in thought. The crease between his sculpted brows told me so, as did his pink lips pressed together into a thin line. His tongue darted over his lips, dampening them, and I watched the flick intently. Was he thirsty?

  “I have water,” I said, by means of an offer.

  Leo shot me a bemused glance. He then decided to ignore my odd statement and return to gathering supplies.

  “Do you want some?” I asked, awkwardly. “You look thirsty.”

  “I’m fine,” he replied in a clipped tone.

  Liar, I mused.

  I stuffed a box of painkillers into the bag, hard. The plastic stretched and snapped at one handle. I sighed and used the other handle, hoping it would hold. Gathering supplies with a sling on was more difficult than I’d thought it would be.

  Leo froze. His arm was outstretched, fingers hovering around a box, body tense as ever.

  “What’s up—” He moved so quickly, I almost didn’t follow. Before I knew it, he was on me, hand over my mouth, muffling my outcries.

  “S
hh,” he hushed, wrapping his arm around me to stop my squirming. “Listen.”

  I stopped resisting and trained my hearing on something else. At first, the rumble sounded like an infectee growling—the way they did while feeding. But then I realised, it more resembled a car engine purring.

  “Stay here,” he whispered, slipping his arms and hands from me. The moment I was free of restraint, I spun around, wild eyed, to face him. He looked down at me with steady green eyes. “Wait for me to come back, Winter. I mean it—don’t move until I tell you.”

  I nodded and placed the rustling plastic bag on the floor. Crouching down, I slipped the knife from my boot and watched him slink through pharmacy door, gun in hand. The door chime jingled faintly through the building as Leo departed. Clutching the knife in hand, I waited for gunshots, yelling, chaos. But all I could hear were my own shaky breaths and rapid heartbeat. Silence continued to pass by me. I heard no shouts or gunfire, nor could I hear the deep rumble of a car engine anymore.

  After a minute or so, I stepped through the aisles to the door. At the archway, I peeked around the corner, faced with the lobby of the clinic. The door chime still swayed gently above the glass door from Leo’s exit. The white horizontal blinds were open, but I could only see slithers of the outside. My gaze swept over light blue, one of our pick-up trucks. Faded grey; the sunburnt pavement. And whispers of fleeting black as it moved around; people.

  I crept to the door, my knife shaking visibly in my raised hand. The first fear I endured was that the infectees were upon us. But infectees didn’t drive cars. They screamed into the air and tore everything to pieces.

  Besides, James and Adam had cleared the area before we entered. Then again, infectees had a way of springing out of shadows.

  As I reached the door, my free hand raised to the cold bars that were the cheap, aluminium blinds. My fingers hooked through one and tugged it down; it clicked and bent. I remember, even now, the clash of emotions that crashed down upon me when I laid my eyes on the scene outside. I recall the overwhelming dread plummeting to the pits of my churning stomach, the flitter of hope that alighted my heart, and the jealous scowl contorting my features.