The Withered Series (Book 1): Wither (31 page)

I
stare into the dark, down the hall toward the back room. That’s
where Cable got the supplies to help Victoria.  He blocked the
door that leads to the shop and the repair center beyond.  I
close my eyes and try not to think about how those men could be
creeping up on us right now.

Cable’s
chest bounces as he tries to stifle a cough.  I raise my head
and stare at him. He looks tired, unnaturally so. His head rests back
against the wall.  Perspiration dampens his hair.  I watch
as a bead of sweat rolls down his cheek.

Pushing
back from him, I crawl away. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll
be right back.”  I count the aisles, trying to remember
where I saw the first aid section.  There isn’t much.  A
few packets of pills which I stuff into my pocket.  Some
temporary bandages and a first aid kit. I grab the kit and tear off
the packaging, tossing it aside. I rummage through it until my
fingers grasp what I’m looking forward.  

Tucking
the thermometer between my teeth, I crawl toward a row of dark doors
at the back. The scent of rotting food from the refrigerator beyond
hits me as I grab a bottle and crawl back to Cable’s side.
“Open up.”

“Does
it really matter?”

“Yes.”
I insist and grab his chin.  He relents and closes his mouth
over the thermometer.  A minute passes before it beeps. I glance
down at the illuminated screen.  “103.5”

He
grunts and pushes my hand away.  “I’m fine.”

“You’re
not.”  I tear open two packages of pain pills and force
them into his hand.  “Take these.”

“I
don’t have the flu, Avery. I doubt it will help.”

I
twist the cap of the bottle and the scent of soda makes my mouth
water. How long has it been since I had a taste?  Holding out
the bottle, I grasp his hand. “I need you lucid if we are going
to get out of here. Alex is messed up over Victoria, and I don’t
know what I’m doing.”

“Yes
you do.”  He winces at the burn of the soda as I force the
bottle between his lips and tilt his head back.  He swallows and
pushes my hand away.  “I saw what you did to that guy.”

The
bottle falls from my hands.  Cable reaches for me, not caring
that soda spills over the floor before us.  “It’s
hard, the first time,” he says with deep, knowing compassion.
  Cable had his first kill too, but that had been a mission
on a battlefield.  Probably with a gun from a distance.  He
may have seen the guy drop but he didn't feel the man’s blood
splatter his face as he beat him senseless.

I
swallow hard and draw my knees into my chest. “I don’t
want to talk about it.”

“You
need to.”

“Why?”

His
grip on my shoulder tightens.  “Because you don’t
have time to internalize it.  If we are going to make it out of
here, you’re going to have to kill again.  Maybe more than
once.  You have to be prepared for it.”

“Is
that even possible?” I scoff and clamp my eyes shut against the
memory. That man’s blood still taints me. I can’t be free
of it, not without exposing myself to go into the bathroom to clean
up.  My palms feel clammy as a cold sweat breaks out.  “It
was awful,” I whisper.  

“I
know.” He strokes my hair.  “But you did what you
had to.”

I
bite down on my lower lip, giving a hesitant nod.  “I
guess I didn’t think it would be so...so messy.”

The
feel of his calloused hands on my cheek pulls me back as he lifts my
chin to look at him.  In the dim light of the moon spilling
through the windows overhead I know he can see my fear.  His
face is dark, but the warmth of his smile shines through as he slowly
lowers his head and kisses me.  

It
does not hold the same passion or intensity of the last time our lips
met.  This is soft, a gentle unspoken promise.  When he
draws back he places a final kiss on my nose.  “Next time
will be easier.”

I
nuzzle into his side, for the moment content to just be.  He
leans his cheek against my head and after a moment his breathing
slows and he leans on me for support.  I hold him, allowing him
a rare moment of rest.  He’s going to need it.

Sometime
later I start at the sound of crashing glass.  Cable leaps to
his feet, slightly wobbly but alert.  “Is that them?”

“No.”
 He shakes his head and grabs my arm.  “I don’t
think so.”

I
follow his lead back through the store, keeping low to make a smaller
target. I have no idea how skilled those men are with guns. Anyone
can hit a target at close range and Alex just happened to be a pretty
good one earlier.

“Alex,”
I hiss when we discover him missing from beside Victoria. I stare at
her body, wondering if she will come back.  I didn’t
express my concerns with Cable, didn’t have the heart to, but
it’s a legitimate question.  Nothing about the Withered
Ones have been textbook zombie.  Not the way we thought they
would be. Up until now I haven't remained near any dead bodies to see
if they will rise again.  

“He’s
down here.”  I look up to see that Cable has moved to the
far end of the shop. He stands upright, his hands planted on his
hips. I don’t have to hear the disapproval in his voice to know
he’s not happy.

I
hurry down the final three aisles and stop short when I see Alex
sprawled out on the floor.  “Well, I guess that accounts
for the broken glass,” I mutter, staring down at the collection
of empty beer bottles around him.

Alex’s
head rolls to the side. Chip and cookie crumbles line his shirt, some
sticking to the expanding stain of blood that has soaked through his
bandage.  “He’s trashed.”

“I
am not,” he slurs.  “I’m wasted. Big
difference.”

I
roll my eyes and glance back at the doors.  No sign of movement
outside but there will be soon enough. I’m sure of it.  “Was
this really the best time to do this?”

Kneeling
down beside him, I grab one arm and Cable the other.  We lift
him into a seated position. The stench of alcohol on him turns my
stomach.  “Imminent death is the best time, in my honest
opinion.”

Alex
burps and giggles. I stare at Cable in open amazement.  There is
an ugly twist of scorn on his lips.  He releases his hold on
Alex and crosses his arms, thrusting out his chest. “He’s
a damned fool.”

I
can’t help but agree but I don’t say it aloud.  “Everyone
deals with loss in their own way.”

“You’re
making excuses for this sorry piece of shit?”

I
place a hand on his arm.  “He’s hurting.”

Cable
grinds his teeth. I can see that he’s trying to rein in his
anger, but it’s a battle. One that I don’t entirely blame
him for. Alex is a fool. If he didn’t have a death wish before,
he’s got one signed and sealed now.  He’ll be lucky
to make it to the back door.

“What
do we do?”

Uncrossing
his arms, Cable slides to the floor and rubs the back of his neck. He
is silent for several moments.  What once caused me frustration
now brings me hope.  An introspective Cable is far more
reassuring than a hell bent one.

“How
did you know that they were going to attack?”  He shifts,
tilting his body toward me.  He casts a glance at Alex but the
man’s snores force him to look away again.  “You
yelled right before they struck.”

I
grasp my knees, feeling comfort in their pressure against my chest.
 I adopted this pose first as a young child every time I feel
like the world is spinning out of control. That seems to happen on a
near daily basis now.  “I didn’t see it at first.
 Thought they were just Moaners, but they felt...off.  I
watched each of them.  They were good, Cable.  I nearly
didn’t see in time. They moved in unison.  They didn’t
blink, hardly seemed to breath.  Even their appearance was near
enough that they could pass for a Moaner.”  

He
scoots closer, his knee brushing mine. “So what gave them
away?”

There
is a heaviness pressing on my chest as I pinch the bridge of my nose.
 “They weren’t moving south.”

Cable
leans back, his arm resting atop his knee. The other is tucked
beneath him, the laces of his boot soaking up the spilled alcohol.
“But that’s just a theory, completely unproven and
invalidated.”

“It
worked didn’t it?”

“This
time,” he agrees with hesitation. He turns and looks toward the
front door. I stiffen at the sight of a brief movement, a foot drawn
out of view at the last second. They are coming.

“Did
you see—”  I turn to see Cable holding out the knife
to me.

“Take
it.  You’ll need it more than me.”  He reaches
into his back and pulls out a silver pistol.  It looks like
something a cowboy would use in an old Western.  “I’ve
got three rounds left but I lost the ax out there in the parking
lot.”

“Where’d
you get that gun?”

He
jerks his head toward the door. “I didn’t go down without
a fight.”

“What
about him?” I look to Alex. He breathes heavily, locked into a
deep sleep.  “Can we wake him?”

Cable
reaches over and punches Alex in the shoulder, right over the entry
wound.  It takes two more hard hits before Alex rears up, eyes
bloodshot and filled with pain.  “What the hell did you do
that for?”

I
clamp my hand down on his mouth to still his shout. “They’re
back.”

He
falls still and I lower my hand.  He trembles as he looks toward
the door. I wrinkle my nose at the scent of urine and pull back.
 “Alex—”

“Don’t,”
he waves me off.  “I’ll be embarrassed about it
later.”

Fear
sobers him fast.  I help him to his feet, keeping my hand on his
head to keep him below the height of the windows.  His steps are
unsteady, his gaze still glazed over, but he’s on his feet.
That’s an improvement.

Cable
is gone, slipped out of sight while I take care of Alex. He rustles
around in the back and I lead Alex down the dark hallway toward him.

“We
should have buried her,” Alex mutters, glancing at Victoria.

“You
know we couldn’t.”

“I
know.”  He sounds deflated, lost. He tugs back against my
arm and I release him. “Alex, we have to keep moving.”

“Just
give me a minute. Go find Cable.”

Torn
with indecision, I don't move until I hear a grunt from up ahead. I
rush forward, leaving Alex behind.  The instant I hit the start
of the windows I dive to my knees and crawl forward.  

I
hear Cable clearly now. He has gone through the door to the repair
shop.  The door remains cracked open and cold air seeps through.
 I press on the door and rear back as he appears, his arms
loaded down with two large canisters.

“What
are you doing?”

“Help
me with these.”  I grab hold of the bottom and help ease
them to the floor.  He groans as the weight shifts to the floor.
 He sinks to his knee, breathing hard. “I can’t do
this alone.”

“I’ll
help.”  I hear sloshing inside the can. The scent of oil
burns in my nose. “Alex is in the hallway.  You work back
here and then grab him. I’ll take the front.”

“No.”
 

I
grab a canister and rise. “Now’s not the time to argue
over who’s stronger or faster. I can do this.  You need to
let me.”

Putting
distance between us, just in case he tries to reach out and stop me,
I shoot him a smile and dart away.

The
canister is every bit as heavy as it looked when Cable carried it.
 Being forced to hunch over to avoid detection makes my arms
quiver and my lower back ache.  

I
pass Alex in the hall, nearly clocking him in the head in the dark. I
call back over my shoulder that he needs to find Cable and hope like
heck that he listens.  Re-adjusting my grip, I waddle down the
hall, thankful to be able to stand fully upright, even if only for a
minute.

The
hall has never felt so long before.  By the time I reach the
end, I’m forced to drag the canister behind me.  The
screeching sound of metal against concrete is loud, certainly loud
enough to be heard outside.  

Peering
out the front window, I see three men approaching. They walk forward
with extreme caution, their knees slightly bent, their guns raised.
 “Shit!”

Tugging
the canister, I work my way down the back aisle, past the soda and
beer fridges.  I pause only a second beside Victoria, remorse
weighing me down.  
I’m
sorry.

“Avery.”
 I turn at the hushed call and see Cable crouching at the
entrance of the hall.  His gaze sweeps back and forth between me
and the window. I can see the men clearly now.  They are less
than twenty feet from the front door.  “It’s too
late. Dump it and run.”

“Not
yet,” I grunt and remove the cap.  I turn my face away
from the potent oil scent as I dump the contents over Victoria.
 
Funeral
by fire.  It was once good enough for Kings.  It’s
the best I can do for you.

“Avery!”
 I glance up and see a man testing the front door. The chains
rattle against the glass.  I hold my breath as he calls back
over his shoulder. More men approach, each one heavily armed.  “Get
your ass over here!”

The
oil spreads out before me, but not nearly fast enough.  It will
do some damage but I want more than that. I want revenge.

I
crawl forward, ignoring Cable’s desperate pleas.  Two
aisles up ahead, I turn and lower to my belly, inching forward.  It’s
a straight shot to the front door from here.  With one swipe of
a flashlight I’d be discovered.  

Grabbing
a couple small metal canisters off the shelves, I bite into the cap
and spit it aside.  I shove them to down the aisle, toward the
door, listening to the fluid spill over the floor.  I reach to
grab another one and pause as my hand hits a long cylinder.  I
yank it off the shelf and hold it up before my eyes.

“I’ll
be damned.”  I tear into the packaging and release the
long handled kitchen lighter.  The scent of lighter fluid
mingles with the oil in my nose, making me a bit lightheaded.
 Grabbing two more canisters, I back down the aisle.  When
I reach the end I see Cable crawling toward me.