Barely Alive (25 page)

“
You’re driving a stolen vehicle. I need to see your ID.” He relaxed his stance, but not enough to raise the comfort level at our little party.

“
I don’t have any on me, sir.” My arms stayed up by my head. He’d arrest me. Why wouldn’t he?

“
Turn around and face the vehicle. Is there anyone else in there with you?” He jangled handcuffs in his hands behind my back after I turned. He patted my back with mean-tempered hands.

“
Yes, sir. But they think the car is mine.” I hoped the others could hear me. Play along.

The officer didn’t slap the cuffs on me, but banged on the van’s side door, inches from my head. “Come on out. Everyone. Stand by the side of the road.” He banged again and I jumped. He shoved my shoulder against the van. “Not you.”

My group filed out and took their positions by the guard rail. Heather and Travis looked like they’d done something wrong. We were a terrible pack of car thieves.

“
I’m sorry, officer.” I don’t know why I apologized. I faced the van and rested my forearms on the top.

He turned from me. “I said wait by the side. Get over there. Now.” He yelled the last part, dropping the cuffs to the ground. Scuffle sounds ensued. I looked over my shoulder and jerked from the van.

James wrestled with the officer for the gun. Hard breathing burst from both guys as they rocked back and forth toe-to-toe.

I thrust myself from the van, pumping my arms for speed, and tackled the cop. Whoever said I wouldn’t use football in real life obviously hadn’t planned on me being arrested as a zombie.

A blast went off as we toppled to the ground.

I grunted and slammed his hand holding the gun to the ground.

James fell back, the gravel skidding under his feet.

Above the officer, I sat on his waist. “You idiot.” I slammed his hand and wrist again. He released his hold and his gun slid to land beside Travis’s foot in the dirt.

Heather knelt beside James. She raised her eyes to meet mine. “Paul.” Why did she look traumatic? We were zombies and couldn’t die like normal people. Not to mention, the bullet couldn’t have hit James. Not my brother.

I looked down at the cop, pulled back my fist and clocked him. He blacked out. I stood and motioned toward him. “Connie and Travis, can you put him in the car or something? And don’t bite him, Connie.” She rolled her eyes at me. What did she expect? She was always talking about eating people. “Maybe cuff him or something.”

Few steps separated me and James. I rejected the effort to walk to him. Not moving, I called to him. “Get up, James. We’ve got to get going. Stop making me save your ass.”

A soft chuckle answered me.

I sighed with relief.

He coughed.

I crossed to him and knelt beside Heather.

Holy shit, he
had
been hit.

“
What the hell? You got shot? How could you get shot?” The hole was in his upper shoulder. Red blood spread over his blue shirt. I pulled his shirt up and pushed the extra material over the wound, exposing his tight abs. I scowled. “There are other ways to show off the muscles, Bro.” I ignored Heather. If I met her sympathetic expression, guaranteed crying would ensue – I’m just not sure if it would be me or her. “Does it hurt?”

“
No. I’m actually turned on.” He winced when Heather and I didn’t laugh. “Okay, yeah, it hurts. Bad.”

The sound of boots dragging across the blacktop assaulted my sensitive hearing. The car door slammed shut behind us. Connie and Travis stood over us in seconds. “Let’s load him up.” Connie grabbed his legs and I hooked my hands under his armpits. We pushed him into the van and I climbed in beside him.

Travis took over driving. I couldn’t leave James’s side if I wanted to. Heather stayed up front. Probably the best thing since I was close to tears and didn’t need to be emasculated in front of her.

Connie shoved his previously discarded jacket under his head. “I’d thought for sure our blood was blue or something.”

The admission startled me. I’d never thought about it. Head ducked, I swiped at my eyes. “Yeah, nothing changes much.” I held up my fingers so she could see the tips. “We start turning gray about ten days after we change, but we can keep it at bay if we eat.” I looked at Paul who stared over my shoulder, wincing with each turn. “Dominic said that once the tissue turns black, it can’t turn back. Only the gray can.”

She jerked her head up from studying James’s wound. “Turn back? Like reverse? I thought there wasn’t a cure.”

“
No, there isn’t. But when we eat enough meat, the gray recedes. My gray was to this knuckle and then I ate the fish and it moved back to here. The cow and deer pushed it back further.” I curled my fingers into my palm. I hadn’t been wounded while infected. I had no knowledge of what would happen to James, if he would heal or if he could heal. “What do you think is going to happen?”

James turned his attention to Connie. Sweat covered his face and neck. “Don’t. Say. Don’t. Tell.”

I slammed my hand on the carpet. “I want to know.” He had to be out of his mind with pain to suggest he didn’t want to know what would happen.

“
Well. I. Don’t.” He ground out.

“
You’re delirious with pain. Be quiet and let me deal with this.” I pushed my fingers over his mouths as he tried to speak again. “Shh.”

Connie held up her hand. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know.” She deflated me. If she didn’t know, what did that leave me?

James bit me. I yanked my hand back and rubbed the fleshy part of my palm. “You asshole.” I turned to Connie. “What have you been working on then?” I glowered. I wanted answers and I wanted them to phrased a certain way. “Writing a novel?”

She laughed, unperturbed with my outburst. “Actually, I could. This has been a very ‘enlightening’ experience. No, I’ve been working on the structure and its compound. I can’t do much without the microscope and slides.” She leaned to the side and pulled the research bag across the floor. “I need electricity for those.”

The van chugged up a steep incline and a bottle of water rolled behind Connie. She ignored it and swiped a thick glass slide across James’s bloodied shirt. She slid a small square over it and tucked it into a baggy.

Too many emotions warred within me. Worry and fear were too obvious to even consider. But morbid curiosity over what would happen and the selfish realization that I was glad I hadn’t been shot kicked me in the stomach. I was the
best
brother ever. Confused disgust filled me. I looked away from him.

James reached up and grabbed my hand. “It’s. Okay.” He winced a laugh out. “I’m. Tougher. Than. You.”

I leaned across to Connie as she pushed the bag into a safe spot. “Do you think we have time to go back and eat the cop?” I pointed at James. “I can’t let
him
think
he’s
tougher. It’s sick.” Playing off my need for vengeance as a joke didn’t make it burn any less. When she shook her head, it annoyed me more.

Heather leaned around the back of the bucket seat, concern creasing her forehead. “How’s James?”

“
Fine.” Connie answered.

If James was going to get extra attention by getting shot, I’d consider taking a bullet… maybe. And he wasn’t fine. And it was my fault. I lowered my head. “James, I’m sorry.”

“
Not. Your. Fault.” He gasped, exhausted with the effort. James needed more meat.

“
It
is
my fault. They’re running my face on the news. I’m wanted.” I ignored Heather’s gasp. “I saw my face on the news at the hatchery. The guy could’ve called, I’m not sure.” My shoulders slumped. The phone rang before I could apologize again.

Heather answered. “Hello? Yes, ma’am. Just a moment.” She handed the phone to me, not meeting my eyes. Our fingers brushed but didn’t linger. Damn.

If I could flush, I’m sure my face would have burned with embarrassment. Phone to my ear, I watched James’s face. “Yeah.” I grunted.

“
James.” Mom’s voice filled my ear, the first time in about a month. She thought I was my brother. A pang of homesickness shot through me. “Paul’s face is all over the news. I don’t know what’s going on, but you get away from him. Don’t go to Sandpoint with him.”

I hmmed at her, too sick to my stomach to do or say more.

She rushed on. “North of Coeur d’Alene have them stop at
Silverwood
. It’s the only theme park on Highway 95. I’ll be there. I’m driving a black SUV.”

“’
Kay.” I tried not giving too much away. I felt betrayed – by my mom. But I wanted her safe. James would be there. And so would we.

“
Don’t say anymore, he’s probably sitting there. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do. I think it’s that gang. I miss him. Love you. ‘Bye.” She hung up. I missed her, too.

James had heard the whole thing. Connie, too. A time when I wanted privacy more than anything, I couldn’t escape even myself. I acted like I didn’t know they could hear everything.

A wave of nausea hit me, strong like when I was nine and I had three ice cream sundaes… because I could. I swore I’d never eat like that again. I closed the phone and refocused on James. “We’ll meet her north of Coeur d’Alene. Take it from there.”

“
I think we should take James to a hospital. Signs are saying we’ll be in Moscow in a bit. Let’s stop and get him some help.” Heather’s mouth pinched in at the sides. She was really worried. Oh, crap, she was going to be pissed beyond reason in about two seconds.

I shook my head. “We can’t stop. We have to get to your grandma’s, Heather.” I met James’s eyes with my own. He shook his head as far as pain would allow. I raised my eyes and faced her with open regret. “I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you. Dominic knows about your grandma. He’s heading up here. I’m not sure how or when he’ll make it, but Dominic wants you and he’s pissed enough at me to tear through the mountains to torture me.”

The color drained from her face. Her features hardened and her eyes filled with tears. “How could you? I could have warned her. I could have…” She dropped her gaze. The silence in the van bit my heart. She didn’t finish, just faced forward without looking at me again.

I fell to my butt from the kneeling position. If I’d only lied to her, it’d be one thing, but I put her grandma’s safety on the line. With one admission, I’d lost her trust. Wrapping my arms around my drawn-up knees, I lowered my head. My life had gone from tolerable and typical, to trash and sewage.

All my problems culminated from my choice. Damn it. I had ten more weeks to regret that one. More if I couldn’t find a solid flame to die in.

Connie pulled James’s shirt off over his head. The edges of the wound were angry, like Heather. Fresh trickles of blood escaped the ragged tissue. “Heather, hand me some napkins, please?” Connie used the napkins from Heather to press against the hole. “James, I need to see the back. Do you have an exit wound?” She rolled him toward her. I shoved from my position. A hole three times the size of the entrance wound welcomed Connie’s palpations with faster blood flow. She pushed more napkins against both sides.

“
Okay, lay back. You’ll hold those in place by laying on them.” Connie pushed on the front wound with the folded up wad of napkins. “Here’s my theory. Again, this is just a theory. I think if he ‘dies’, it will just be like you said before. You hit a certain time frame and the body dies. He’ll just have sped things along from twelve weeks to a couple days.” She pulled the napkins from his shoulder gingerly, replacing them after she saw the bleeding hadn’t stopped. “Putting it all together, if Dominic said once the tissue is dead you can’t bring it back, then supposing we can come up with a cure or some way to help or prolong the condition, we can assume it will only be beneficial for living tissue. Black tissue is necrotic.”

I watched her speak so calmly, as if she wasn’t telling me my brother would be dead figuratively from the bullet but still walk until his body didn’t work anymore. Her stoicism pissed me off.

She continued, mindless of my rising anger. “On the other hand, he’s not dead. His skin hasn’t died yet. We need to get him fed and keep you and I fed. Let’s stave off the inevitable as long as possible and give Travis and my research as strong a chance as we can.” She pointed to his arms. “We know we can heal. Remember when that girl in the warehouse bit him? She’d drawn blood. But he doesn’t have any wounds on his arms or hands.”

And, fortunately for her, my anger cooled with her explanation. “So, you’re saying we have a chance?”

A shrug wasn’t the nod I wanted. “I don’t know. It’s a theory. Logically, I think that’s what would happen. But applying real logistics is not doable. None of this is plausible, let alone possible.”

James closed his eyes. We didn’t sleep, but James probably needed to escape reality. I did and I wasn’t shot. I was freaking out for my brother. I couldn’t comprehend how I’d feel, if that was me, and I’d been told I may or may not have my full twelve weeks to wait for a cure.

I wanted to fight. I wasn’t the type to wait for attacks and waiting for Dominic to come to us in Sandpoint was doing exactly that. And I’d had enough running for a few days. I wanted to bite or tear or kick something into the next county.