The Withered Series (Book 1): Wither

by Miles, Amy

  I stiffen as Cable grasps my hand. Lifting my head, I turn to look at him as tears that I’ve been resisting escape down my cheeks. “You’re human. It’s in our nature.”

  “So is murder, theft and a million other atrocities. Is that in me too, Cable? Am I going to become someone I don’t even recognize just to avoid becoming like them?”

  I point out the window and he turns to look at a Moaner shuffling through the yard. Several more follow behind, some leaving a path of entrails in their wake.

  “I don’t know,” he answers with brutal honesty. His gaze is conflicted as he turns to look at me. He tries to offer me a reassuring smile but it falls flat. “I hope not.”

  I pull my hand away from him, tucking it into my side. “I thought you were like those other soldiers.”

  Closing my eyes, I refuse to see the look of pain that mars his face. Cable is a good guy, I understand that now, but being a good guy doesn’t mean I can trust him.

  He shifts in his seat. I hear him hit the pedals as he turns to face me. “I guess I deserve that. If roles were reversed I’d have a ton of questions too.”

  I open my eyes to see that he is leaning toward me. The planes of his face are hard but in a good way. The new stubble enhances his good looks. In this confined space I realize just how aware I have become of him over the past few days.

  “I saw the bus…”

  He swallows hard. Turning away he places his hands on the steering wheel and sighs. “I don't have all of the answers. I’m sure that surprises you.” He smirks but I’m in no mood. “Look, I heard rumors but never saw any kids myself. They weren’t where I slept, ate or worked so if there were there, they were buried deep.”

  My breath hitches as the memory of the base exploding floods back in. My hands begin to tremble as I press them to my stomach. “Did we kill them?”

  “What?” He twists toward me. “No. Of course not!”

  “How do you know? They could have been forgotten in the fire fight. The tank could have misfired and crushed them. They could have--”

  “Stop.” He grasps my hands and squeezes. “Worrying about this will only make you sick. It’s best to think positive and trust that they got out.”

  I stare down at his hands, clasped around mine and I’m desperate to believe him. To soak up an ounce of his optimism, but I can’t do it. “Eva told me that her little sister was taken by the military.”

  Cable nods. “Natalia worked with a few kids at a different base somewhere up north. Said it was all routine tests. Nothing weird that she could tell.”

  “Do you trust her?”

  “Natalia?” He shrugs and releases my hands, sinking back into the seat. He draws his leg up and rests it against the wheel. “I don’t really know her. Eric vouched for her so that’s good enough for me.”

  “Really? It’s that easy for you?” I cross my arms over my chest to ward off the cold. “I think we both know that I’ve got every reason to have trust issues right now. You seem to care about keeping me safe. Eric seems decent too. If you want me to play nice with Natalia I’m going to need more than just a friendly handshake that she’s good.”

  “Like what?” I can tell he is hedging and that makes me all the more suspicious.

  “How did she have clearance to come speak to me? What does she know about what they did to me? Why did she aid us in escaping? Who beat her?”

  Cable leans back away from me and turns his gaze outward. When he reaches up to stroke his throat, grimacing at the windshield, I turn to see a woman stumble less than ten feet from the hood of the Humvee. Half of her arm has been torn off. The bone protrudes from the rotting flesh. White maggots crawl over the open wound. My stomach churns but I force myself not to look away. To truly see the horrors that have consumed this world.

  “Eric says that Natalia is complicated.”

  I return my attention to Cable as the woman disappears around the edge of the barn. “That’s not good enough.”

  “Well for now it’s going to have to be–” he turns his head at a raised cry and leaps from the vehicle, pulling his mask into place as he goes. I’m right on his heels as we sprint toward the house. “This isn’t over,” I call to him as we hit the porch.

  “Kinda figured you’d say that.” He takes the stairs two steps at a time. I’m winded by the time I reach the second floor but he’s hardly broken a sweat. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Eric appears in the doorway, his face a mask of sorrow. His chin trembles as he steps aside. I can tell by the swelling around his eyes that he’s been crying. “Her fever is gone.”

  I pause in the doorway as the two men go to her bedside, not wanting to intrude. Cable sinks down beside Natalia and takes her hand in his. He presses his free hand to her brow. “She’s freezing.”

  “I know.” Eric tosses his towel aside and brushes past me. I watch him leave, his shoulders sagging and his steps heavy as he descends to the lower floor.

  When I turn back I see Cable’s head bowed low. Four blankets lay draped over Natalia. Dark shadows line her eyes. Her cheeks are sunken, as if she’s been without food for weeks instead of only a day.

  After a moment of silence Cable lifts his gaze to look at me. “I didn’t take you for a praying man.”

  “Never used to be.” He places her hand beside her and then lifts her bandage. The bullet that entered through her shoulder in our mad dash to evade the chopper was a clean hit. Eric and Cable have been diligent to keep it clean, but the fever began within a day of our arrival here.

  Her skin is unnaturally pale. Her veins prominent against her frail arms. When he opens her mouth I see that her tongue is coated with a thick substance. He opens her eyes and they stare back at him with no reaction. She looks as if she’s begun to wither right before our eyes.

  My breath catches as I close my eyes. “Of course,” I murmur and lean against the doorframe. “She’s turning, isn’t she?”

  Cable clears his throat but doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. I sigh, rub my forehead and look at him. “I’m sorry. I’ve never seen it happen before. Not this close at least. Last time it was in the hospital and they kept the woman secluded for the most part.”

  “Well,” he turns his face up to look at me. Cable looks exhausted. Lines carve deeply into his face. His hair hangs limp against his forehead. He shakes his head slowly and I’m touched by the sorrow that he feels for a woman he barely knew. “You’re about to get a front row seat.”

  He continues to look at Natalia, seeming to be willing her lungs to continue to expand, her brain to continue to function. He reaches to his side and retrieves a knife. It isn’t long or particularly nasty looking, but it looks sharp as he withdraws it from a black leather sheath.

  “What are you doing?” I call out as he grips Natalia’s arm and presses the blade to her flesh.

  “Testing.”

  With a flick of his wrist, a thin but deep wound appears on the back of her forearm. No scream. No flinch. No sign of pain. He hangs his head and the knife goes limp in his hand. I enter the room and kneel down beside him, tucking the blade away.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  He wipes at his nose and shoves the blade into his pocket. “I’m just sick of losing good people.”

  I know the feeling. Even though I may not have anyone else in my life, I’ve grown to care about a couple of people and I don’t want to see them get hurt. “You hungry? I was thinking of making soup for dinner.”

  “Nah.” He shifts on the edge of the bed. “I’ll stay for a little longer.”

  Feeling like a bit of an outsider, I rise and close the door behind me, heading downstairs. I find Eric sitting on the hideous pink couch, staring out the window. He doesn’t notice me until I sink down beside him.

  “Hey, Avery.” He offers me a forced smile and brushes his hands through his hair. He looks terrible. A splotchy beard has consumed the thin growth of stubble he arrived with. Eric hasn’t slept, hasn't taken the time to eat.
His vigil at Natalia’s bedside was constant. “How are you doing?”

  I release a breathy laugh and shake my head, resting it in the palm of my hand as I lean on my knee and stare at him. “Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?”

  He slumps back into the couch and grabs a pillow, hugging it to his chest. His black hair falls in waves over his forehead and not for the first time I wonder why he was never told he had to shave his head like the rest of the soldiers. His style just seems too...messy.

  “She knew it was coming. Started developing the symptoms a few days back but didn’t want to say anything. She knew the consequences if she did.”

  I purse my lips. “So that’s why she was caked in makeup.”

  He nods and fiddles with a stray thread that has come loose from his jacket. “I told her to do it. Thought it could give her a few more days before someone found out. The doctors should have noticed right away but they were preoccupied.”

  “With what?” He glances over at me and I grimace. “With me?”

  “You caused quite a stir back there.”

  “But why?” I lower my leg and turn to face him. “What made me so different than all those other people? Is it my blood?”

  Eric tilts his head side to side. “Not so much your blood, but your plasma.”

  “And to those of us who aren’t doctors in the room that means what exactly?”

  “Alright,” he twists his torso to face me. From this angle he looks even worse. Deep bags hang under dull eyes. He is pasty and thin. Thinking back, I’m not sure I’ve seen him eat more than a spoonful of soup since we arrived. “You’ve heard about universal donors, right?”

  “Sure. Some people have a blood type that can be transfused into anyone.”

  “Exactly.” He holds up his fingers, gesturing with surprising animation. “The number of people who have this sort of blood is right around 40%, give or take a few thousand.”

  “So I’m one of those?”

  “Nope.” He ducks his head in low and speaks in a hushed tone, as if someone might overhead. “You’re even better.”

  He reaches out and grasps my wrist, turning it over. I watch as he brushes his thumb over the bluish veins in my wrist. “You, Avery, have something very rare. A blood type that allows you to be a universal plasma donor. Only about 1% of people have that, and since we’ve lost a considerable number of those people recently, you’ve become even more valuable.”

  “But why?” I draw my hand back from him. I trace my finger down the curve of a vein, lost in thought.

  “Because the government thinks your plasma could be used for a cure.” I turn to see Cable hit the bottom step. He wipes his knife across his pant leg before meeting our gaze. A wide patch of blood stains his right side. Small splatters dot his face. Eric tenses beside me. He wavers in place but remains upright. I reach out and grasp his hand as he closes his eyes. A guttural groan rises from his throat but he doesn’t say anything.

  Cable sinks down before us and clasps his friend on the shoulder, squeezing tight. I watch Eric fight back the tears, battle his grief. I don’t know what to say, what to do so I just sit and wait. Slowly, Eric regains his composure. He takes deep breaths, his fingers clenching tightly against his knees. Finally he nods and Cable releases him.

  “Plasma is a pretty amazing thing,” Eric says with a pinched voice.

  “Eric,” I whisper, shaking my head. “You don’t have to…”

  “Yeah, I do.” He wipes his nose with his sleeve then the tears from his face and raises his chin as he continues. “Easily put, it’s a life-saving resource that we are sorely in need of now.”

  Cable sinks back onto the floor before us. Over his shoulder I see that the sun has begun its descent. Night will soon fall and we will be forced to barricade ourselves in again. Last night a chopper came too close for comfort to our camp. I overheard Cable and Eric talking this morning about the likelihood that tonight’s search would expand to include our farm. Chances are we may have lingered one day too long.

  Eric stares out the window, emotion seeping from his face as he comes to the same conclusion I just did. It’s too late to bury Natalia. We will have to wait until morning.

  “How do you two know so much?” I ask, trying to pull him back

  Both look toward the ceiling and I mentally kick myself for not thinking. Eric returns his gaze to me. “She was trying to help, Avery. She wasn't like the General, driven by a need for results. She saw the person as well as the problem. I wish you’d had the chance to get to know her. I think you would have liked her.”

  I’m not sure what to say, how to respond. It is true that I didn’t know Natalia. It’s also true that I didn’t want to, not after she became connected to those experiments. In my mind she was guilty by association.

  A muscle running the length of Eric’s neck tightens as he clenches his jaw. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  He nods but doesn’t speak. His fists clench in his lap. Cable leans forward and plunges his hands into his hair and an uncomfortable silence hangs between us as twilight falls over the farmhouse. The door to the barn was left wide open. One of us will have to go and secure it before the choppers come. Looking at Cable and Eric, I decide it will be me.

  “We can’t stay here any longer.” Cable says, staring first at Eric, then at me. He winces before he speaks, knowing that his words will be salt in our open wounds. “The past will only slow us down.”

  A gargled sound erupts from Eric. He surges to his feet. “Sorry,” he mutters as he staggers toward the bathroom. I collapse back into the sofa as I hear him retching.

  “Was that really the best time to bring that up? And what’s with you not cleaning your knife before you came downstairs? Are you trying to give him a mental breakdown?”

  Cable’s jaw clenches with each accusation. This is hard death to accept for both of them, but this...it just seems callous. So unlike him.

  “Natalia is gone. Your friends aren’t answering. I can't risk all of our lives for what if’s, Avery. It’s my job to protect you.”

  “No.” I push to the edge of the couch. “It’s my job to protect me.”

  “And where will we go?” I ask before he can contradict me. “Which road will lead us somewhere safe? You still wear your mask, for goodness sake! What if we head north and the air is contaminated there? Or West and the food has gone bad? What if we hug the coast and realize the seas are poisoned too?”

  “I don’t know,” he shouts, rising abruptly to his feet and begins to pace. His voice is thick with emotion when he speaks. “I don't have the answers. I just know that we can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous.”

  “We can’t leave her,” Eric whispers from where he leans heavily in the doorway. He wipes his mouth and spits to the side.

  My heart goes out to him. The strong man that sat beside me looks lost and broken. Cable sighs are he turns toward his friend. “Natalia would have ordered you to go.”

  At his words, a pained smile stretches along Eric’s face. “And I would have ignored her, like I always did.”

  I rub my hand over my face, weary and tired of saying goodbye to people, even the ones I may not have liked. “One more day,” I whisper. “Give us one more day to give Natalia a proper burial. If I can’t reach Alex by tomorrow night then I’ll leave with you.”

  Cable leans forward, his hand covering his mouth as he surveys me. His gaze is intense but I meet it all the same. Finally he nods. “Ok. One more day.”

  TEN

  Sweat beads along my brow. I duck and swing. Pain bites into my knuckles, splitting the skin but I swing again, and again. I spin and weave, thrusting my fist up. It connects with the grain bag with a deep, gratifying thud

  “I think you got it.” I spin around to find Cable standing behind me, leaning lazily against the barn door. “What’d it do to tick you off?”

  “Nothing.” It feels good to sweat, to move without having to cushion my ribs. For the first time in weeks I al
most feel whole again. “I just needed to let off a little steam.”

  Cable tucks his hands deep into his pockets. “The funeral was pretty rough, huh?”

  I nod. “It was my first.”

  “Really?” He straightens slightly at that. “You never lost a grandparent or neighbor?”

  “Nope.”

  “What about a goldfish? Tell me you at least flushed one of those.”

  I laugh and look over at him through strings of hair. I found a bit of yarn to tie back my mass of curls but several chunks have fallen free. “I’m pretty sure Goldie doesn’t count.”

  “Goldie, huh? And I pegged you for an unconventional sort of girl.”

  “Sorry to disappoint.” I place my hands back on the grain sack and prepare to begin again. After a moment, I turn and find him still staring at me. “I usually vent in private, if you don’t mind.”

  His expression is obscured behind his mask but I’d wager he's grinning.

  “Why do you still wear that thing, anyways?” I wipe my brow clean with the bottom of my shirt. The chill morning air nips at my stomach as I let the material falls back into place. I switched out my sweater for a frilly floral shirt when I woke in respect of Natalia’s final moments. The instant it was over, I chucked that shirt in the trash and traded it for a men’s long sleeve cotton V-neck shirt that is two sizes too large. I knotted the material at the base of my back and rolled the sleeves.

  Cable watches me for a moment as I turn my back on the bag and plant my hands on my hips. My knuckles sting where the skin has split. I can’t help but feel smug as Cable slowly removes the gas mask. “Habit, I guess.”

  “Still think this crap is in the air?”

  His broad shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. He uncrosses his legs and walks toward me, leaving the sun at his back. I spy large patches of shadow moving across the field beyond. The clouds have begun to move back in. I can feel a change on the air but keep my fears to myself. The last thing I want is to be caught in a winter storm while on the run, but I gave my word. One day and I would leave and never look back.