Point Of Destruction: A Post-Apocalyptic Epidemic Survival (The Morgan Strain Series Book 3)

by Max Lockwood

  “You also said you were sorry,” Thomas added before regretting opening his fat mouth again.

  “Yeah, I feel some guilt for what happened. Samuel was my twin brother. He was smart and popular and good at sports. Sam was about to get a scholarship to play football at the University of Washington, and my parents could not have been more excited about it. He was the golden child, by all accounts.”

  “How did he get sick?”

  “It’s stupid, really. He had a sore throat and was achy. My parents were absolutely fretting over him because he was supposed to start workouts and he was too tired to go. He only had a cold, but you know how boys can be dramatic about illnesses.”

  Thomas gave a small smile. Melissa was especially tough. He imagined that her late brother wouldn’t handle her injury as well as she had.

  “I was the one who convinced him to go to the urgent care clinic. I wanted him to get diagnosed with a stupid cold, just to prove to him that he was being a baby and that my parents were making a big deal out of nothing. I even drove him there and sat in the car while he was being examined.”

  “So what happened?” Thomas asked. Everyone’s stories about infection started out as seemingly everyday tasks gone wrong. People died horrible deaths for such innocent actions.

  “While he was there, there must have been another patient in the early stages of the infection. Samuel said that the waiting room was packed, so it would have been too easy for someone to cough or sneeze directly in his breathing space. He also said that the doctors and nurses were short staffed and everyone was running around hectically. He wondered if he had been accidentally infected with a used swab or needle while he was there. That, and Samuel was a compulsive nail-biter. He could have easily touched something with the virus on it and immediately introduced it into his body.”

  “How long did it take for the symptoms to develop?”

  “Oh, not long at all. He was sent from the clinic with orders to rest for a few days and drink a lot of fluids. He just had a cold, like I had been saying all along. The next day, he was feeling better already. Then a few days after that, he was sick again. Chills, high fever, and extreme lethargy. By that time, the first reports of the virus had already made the news. People were urged to stay away from hospitals if they could help it. That’s when we knew what was wrong with Samuel.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Thomas interjected. “I mean, if your parents were so concerned about him, then wouldn’t they take him to the hospital themselves?”

  “Probably. But that doesn’t matter because I was the one who’d convinced him to go. My mom didn’t speak to me once we realized what was wrong with him. So, knowing that I was to blame, I took it upon myself to care for him. We made his room into a quarantine chamber and I made myself a makeshift hazmat suit. There wasn’t much we could do for him, but I tried to make him as comfortable as possible. First, he was really lethargic and sickly. Then, he started acting weird. He didn’t want to talk to anyone and was angry all the time. It wasn’t like him. Then, he started having seizures. In the end, that’s what killed him. I held him in my arms as he stopped breathing. There was nothing I could do.”

  Thomas expected her to start crying as she recounted her experience, but instead, she looked straight at the table. She sounded as though she had replayed the story in her head so many times that it came out as if she had rehearsed it.

  “After Samuel died, my dad ended up getting infected not long after. But his infection caused more of a psychosis element to his reaction. He was shot and killed after trying to invade a stranger’s home on his way home from work. By that time, the infection rate had skyrocketed and I didn’t have time to mourn his loss too.”

  “What happened to your mom?” Thomas asked.

  “Like I said, my mom didn’t handle the news of Samuel’s infection very well. Between trips to his room to bring him food and drinks, she scolded me for being so careless with him. Sometimes, she even screamed at me, telling me that she wished I had gotten sick instead of him. The day he died, she packed up and left. As I found out later, my dad was largely unavailable at the time because of his illness. I was alone. I wandered through town by myself, trying to hide from the other infected. Eventually, I was kidnapped by the new army. That’s when I met the others.”

  Anger bubbled up inside Thomas. He couldn’t believe that Melissa’s own mother had told her that she wished that she’d died instead of her brother. It was completely incomprehensible that a parent would say something like that.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Thomas stuttered.

  “I know. That’s why I feel so guilty about what happened to Samuel. The truth is, if I would have minded my own business and allowed him to get the attention my parents wanted to give him, he would probably be with me right now.”

  “You can’t do that to yourself,” Thomas said, reaching across the table to take her hands in his. He could see the reflection of the flickering candles in her eyes. “The only person who can be blamed for this virus is Bretton Vincent. Everyone took part in spreading it around, but it doesn’t mean that we can blame all of American civilization for what happened. Your mom was wrong to say those things to you. I’m happy that you’re alive, and nothing could ever change my mind about that.”

  Her stiff figured softened at these words. It was exactly what she’d needed to hear since Samuel got sick. Deep down, she knew she was a good person and she didn’t deserve her family’s scorn. Still, she held the guilt inside her and it ate away at all the good memories from her childhood.

  A weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She could run from danger and survive, not because her instincts told her to, but because she believed she was worthy of life.

  “Thank you,” she said softly, a small smile on her face.

  “Don’t thank me,” Thomas said. He was about to tell her more reasons she shouldn’t blame herself for things that weren’t her fault when she leaned across the table and kissed him on the lips.

  He froze, surprised by how soft her lips were against his. He felt his face getting hot as she separated from him.

  “Wow,” he breathed, not able to formulate the words to say something a little more profound. Melissa was his first real kiss, and he was still shocked that someone as cute as her would want to kiss him.

  She giggled and leaned back in, kissing a little longer this time. He slid the candles on the table out of the way, gently cupping her face in his hands. Thomas’s mind raced—they were alone in a candle-lit cabin. It was the most romantic thing he had ever been a part of. There was no telling where things would lead.

  They split apart after a few long seconds when they heard a noise coming from outside the cabin. Always on edge, they jumped up, eyes wide in panic.

  “What was that?” Melissa asked, gripping Thomas’s hand.

  “Maybe it was just the wind knocking a branch on the side of the house. I’ll go check,” he said, grabbing his shotgun.

  “No!” she gasped. “Don’t go out there. I don’t want to be alone in here.”

  “It’s probably nothing,” he said calmly as his heart raced. He walked to the door but didn’t make it outside before it swung open with a loud crash.

  At least ten infected people poured into the house, snarling and scratching at Thomas and Melissa. She grabbed and knife and crawled toward the window, making stabbing motions at anyone who approached her. Thomas fired a few shots, but that only seemed to make the infected multiply. There were more entering the cottage by the second.

  Thomas shot an infected between the eyes, sending it sprawling across the wooden kitchen table. It collapsed, sending candles flying in the air. The dusty rug caught fire immediately, and the synthetic material went up in flames, spreading the fire to everything it touched. The next thing Thomas knew, tall, angry flames separated him from Melissa.

  “Get out!” he screamed toward Melissa, who was furiously stabbing an infected in the chest. The flames licked the ceiling in the
middle of the room, but Thomas couldn’t get around the fire to save her.

  Black smoke occluded his vision. He couldn’t shoot because he could hardly tell the infected apart from Melissa. As he aimed to shoot, two hands grabbed him by the arms and forcefully pulled him from the cottage. Outside, he sputtered, the smoke thick in his lungs. He rubbed his burning eyes, fighting to get away from whatever had pulled him into the fresh air.

  Bethany, the girl no one believed existed, stared at him, a curious expression on her face.

  Thomas scrambled up to his feet. “Melissa,” he called, walking toward the door. Just as he was about to reenter the burning building, a blast from the back of the house rocked the entire foundation and knocked Thomas on his butt. Once again, Bethany ran forward and dragged him back to safety.

  “NO!” he shrieked, waving wildly as Bethany struggled to hold him back.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Bethany panted. “You’ll burn to a crisp.”

  “I have to get Melissa!”

  “You can’t save her. Maybe she got out. All I know is that if you go back inside, you will die. You cannot go inside a burning building.”

  “How would she get outside? She was too busy fighting to open the window. She has a bad shoulder. I don’t think she could have lifted it.”

  “Then she’s probably dead,” Bethany said flatly. “Come with me. It’s not safe here.”

  Thomas ran into the bushes to be sick. He couldn’t get his mind off Melissa. One minute, they were kissing. The next, she was dead. He had promised to protect her and now she was dead.

  Melissa was the first friend he had made since his family and friends died in the epidemic. She was a kind, strong woman who was more sensitive than she let on. Thomas had grown to like her very much. He even wondered if his affectionate feelings for her could be considered love. She meant the world to him in a world where very little mattered anymore.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Come on,” Bethany urged. “What if there’s another explosion?”

  “I don’t care,” Thomas growled, staring at the blazing fire until his eyes burned. “I should have been in there. I should have been next to her.”

  “You would have died,” Bethany said coldly. “You don’t have to thank me, but you don’t need to give me attitude.”

  He continued to stare into the inferno as if he could mentally will Melissa out of the destruction. Bethany was most likely right—there was no way anyone could survive a fire like that.

  “Let’s go,” she urged, grabbing Thomas’s hand. He allowed her to lead him away from the cottage, his shotgun hanging limp in his other hand. The barrel of the rifle dragged on the ground, creating a thin trail in the dirt and leaves as he walked.

  Thomas couldn’t stop looking back at the house. It seemed too callous of him to just leave Melissa’s body behind. It was such a shame she didn’t make it—she was well enough to ride on the back of the stolen motorcycle. If Alec returned the next day like he said he would, then she would have made it out of the woods.

  “Hurry up,” she said, leading him into the trees instead of taking the trail. “I don’t think those were the only infected in the area. We need to get out of the area before more are attracted to the flames.”

  Thomas didn’t hear what she was saying. Everything sounded like static in his head. He didn’t know if this was because of the explosion or the fact that he just didn’t care about anything anymore.

  He was completely in a trance. He kept forgetting where he was or why he was walking through a forest at night. A few times, he thought he was back in Washington, walking around with his friends in the dark.

  After dragging him for half a mile or so, Bethany jerked his hand forward and stopped in her tracks so he came to a stop facing her. She gave him a slap on the cheek that stung for a second.

  “Listen up,” she said firmly. “You have to get it together. You’re holding me back and you’re going to get the both of us killed. I get that you’re upset, but you have to hold yourself together long enough to get to a safe place. Got it?”

  “Sure,” he murmured. Thomas took a deep breath and tried to regain awareness of the situation. He had been with Melissa in the cabin. Then they were ambushed by infected. A fire broke out, and Bethany pulled him out, kicking and screaming. Melissa was likely in the house when it exploded. Melissa was dead.

  His bad fortune continued. The few people in his life that he truly loved had to die right in front of him. He’d met so many new people along the way who’d died faster than he could get to know them. Bethany would probably die soon. He would probably die soon. Alec and Elaina would never come back for him, and the cure to the virus would never reach the right hands. The world was over, yet he continued to fight for some reason. Why?

  In an attempt to recapture his sanity, Thomas began to take inventory of everything he could sense in the world around him. “Cold wind,” he whispered to himself. “Burning flesh. Crackling fire. Black trees. Black smoke. Black rocks.”

  The pair reached a clearing and Bethany pulled a bottle of water out of her satchel. She took a long drink before handing it to Thomas. He waved his hand dismissively, even though the acrid smoke from the cabin burned his throat.

  “Tell me everything that happened since the moment we met,” Bethany said, putting the water back into her bag.

  Thomas’s eyes narrowed into slits. He clenched his teeth and tried not to scream in her face.

  “You want me to tell you what I’ve been up to?” he hissed. “You were the one who disappeared and made me look like a fool. We would probably be in Oklahoma right now, safe and sound, if it weren’t for you. People have died because of you. We were so close to getting out of this mess,” he said, clenching his fists.

  Bethany frowned. “I didn’t mean to hit your car. It didn’t make things any better for me.”

  “Where were you?” Thomas asked. “Why didn’t you just come join us? Where did you go? How is it possible that you’re here now? Who are you?”

  “Lower your voice,” she said, looking around.

  “Answer my questions,” he persisted.

  She looked around her again, on the lookout for any attackers. “Can this wait? I’ll tell you what you need to know in due time, but I don’t think this is the right time or place for this conversation.”

  “Where would you prefer to have this conversation?” Thomas asked, his face getting redder. “No, I’m not taking another step until I know I have even the slightest reason to trust you.”

  “Fine,” she whispered, sitting down on the forest floor. Thomas sat across from her, his rifle resting across his lap.

  “Basically, it all boils down to the fact that I was terrified. When you said there were six of you, I knew I was outnumbered. I didn’t want you to kidnap me and hold me against my will.”

  “Why would we do that? I think I asked you if you were okay. Why would I check on you if I just wanted to kidnap you?”

  “That’s the whole thing—there are people out there who are doing exactly that. You know that radio I had in the truck? I had heard warnings about these military groups who drive around and act like they’re rescuing people. Instead, they torture them and do all sorts of bad things. No one exactly knows who they are and what their end game is. The word on the street is that they sometimes act like they’re infected but then go right back to normal. When you went back to your truck, I ran as far as I could and hid. I watched as you came back to look for me. Then I watched as your friend went through my stuff.”

  “Will? He’s not my friend. Besides, I don’t know where he is now.”

  “Well, I know that he stole my radio and my gun. That radio was my lifeline. I wouldn’t be alive without it. That’s why I don’t feel safe without it. I have no idea where the dangerous people are lurking. I wanted to ask if anyone had encountered a group of six in a white pickup, but I never got the chance.”

  “Wait, what do you mean when you say ‘people
who act like they’re infected, but not’?”

  “That’s literally all I know about that,” she said. “I was trying to get more information when I crashed into you guys and my radio was stolen. I tried to play it cool around you when you approached me, but part of me really thought you could turn into a maniac at any moment.”

  Thomas put his head in his hands. This was too much for him to deal with at the moment. Nothing made any sense.

  He hated Will even more than he previously did. If Will hadn’t stolen the radio, maybe he would have some idea as to what was going on around them. So much of their fear came from lack of information. If they knew where the dangerous people lurked and where the border lay, then they wouldn’t be running anymore. They would be safe.

  After Derek died, Thomas never had the chance to tell Alec about the radio and how Will had lied when he’d said it was broken. It didn’t really matter anymore, though. Will was gone.

  Thomas had some reason to believe what Bethany was telling him. After all, he had heard a little about the army offshoot that Will, Natalia, Derek, Victoria, and Melissa had escaped from. He didn’t know much about it besides the fact that they were using the people they collected to take part in experiments. That, and the guy who’d created the virus in the first place had injected his own daughter.

  This story lined up with Bethany’s. He just hoped that this army was nowhere near them. He had been part of a dangerous, close-knit organization for a while and knew how difficult they were to escape from.

  “Do you have any more questions, or can we keep going?” she asked. “We have a lot of ground to cover.”

  “Where are we going?” he asked, making his decision to go along with her, even though something still seemed suspicious about her.