Lost World (37 page)

“Don’t say things that will make me hate you right now, Angus.”

Angus lets out a laugh that echoes through the cellar, and Axl finally turns. His eyes move over us, but his expression is empty. No pain or anger or anything else. He looks like the Axl I met weeks ago on Route 66. The one who did everything his brother said without a word. Who deferred to his every opinion. Who followed orders. It’s like a stranger staring back at me.

“Don’t talk like this is the end,” Axl says when his eyes land on Angus.

“Oh, it’s the end, lil’ brother. Sooner you accept that the sooner we can get down to business. You an’ me both know we can’t let this go too far. Soon as I start actin’ like nothin’ matters, you gotta put a blade through my skull. You gotta end it.”

Axl shakes his head. “Can’t.”

“Don’t got a choice,” Angus says.

Axl’s mouth scrunches up and some of the storm comes back to his eyes. He doesn’t look away from his brother as he crosses the room. “That what you’d do? Stab me in the head then just walk away? Like I was nothin’!” Axl balls his hands into fists, and the last word echoes through the room.

Nothing.

That one word gives such an intimate glimpse inside Axl’s head that it makes goose bumps pop up on every inch of my skin.

Angus shifts at my side, and I move over. He hauls himself to his feet and crosses the room, stopping in front of his brother. I feel like I’m intruding. They’re going through something they’d never share with other people normally, and I know they’re rather be alone. But there’s nowhere for me to go.

“You listen here, and you listen good,” Angus says, his voice low and firm. “This whole life’s been shit. Grew up without a dad and with a mom that thought I was a good for nothin’ just like the bastard that ran out on her. Didn’t have much food and none of the stuff the other kids had. It made me mean and mad. Made me hate the world. The only thing in this whole goddamn world I ever cared ‘bout was you. When you was born, I promised myself I’d take care of you. Didn’t matter what that bitch did, I was gonna make sure you was okay. I sat up nights with you when you was a baby. Took care of you when you was sick. Changed your fuckin’ diapers! You ain’t nothin’ to me, and you ain’t nothin’ to them people back at the house. You’re the only thing that’s gonna get them through all this, ‘cause you got the best of me in you, but more than that too. You know how to care ‘bout people, and that’s what they need.”

Angus stops talking, and silence covers the room. My throat is so tight I can barely breathe, and my shoulders shake with sobs that refuse to stay hidden. I knew there was more to Angus. Knew he loved Axl more than everything else in this whole, shitty world put together. But this. Nothing could have prepared me for this.

And it looks like Axl feels the same way.

His face crumples as he squeezes his hands into fists. His shoulders shake with silent sobs, and before I know it, his forehead is leaning against his brother’s chest while Angus pats his back.

“Damn you, Angus,” Axl says, his voice muffled from tears and pain.

Angus just nods, standing there with his brother’s face pressed against his chest. Patting his back while Axl’s sobs echo through the room.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” I say, shaking my head.

“Nothin’ makes sense,” Angus replies, which is what has my head spinning.

He’s still talking. Still alert and still able to complain about how much the damn bite hurts. By now he should be feeling something. When Nathan was bitten in Vegas, he was feeling the effects five minutes later. James was lethargic within thirty minutes just from a couple scratches on the neck. But it’s been an hour—at least—and still nothing.

“You’re not feeling anything?” I ask for the hundredth time.

“Will you shut up?” Axl snaps.

Angus sits between us, and Axl still hasn’t cooled toward me yet. I know he’s pissed off and hurting and he needs to blame somebody, but the more time that goes by, the more nervous I get.

“Stop fightin’,” Angus mutters, getting to his feet. He goes over to the boxes left on the shelves and rips one open.

“What are you doing?” I ask, watching him sift through the box. This is so unreal. He should be turning by now, but he’s eating!

“Gettin’ somethin’ to eat. Probably oughta leave all this for you folks since I’m gonna bite it, but I’m starvin’.”

He comes back with three meals, tossing one to each of us before sitting down on the floor and tearing into his. The label on mine says
Beef Stew
, but just thinking about it makes my stomach flip. I’m too stressed to eat.

Axl follows his brother’s lead, but I’m not sure if he’s really hungry or just going through the motions. He keeps his eyes down, focused on the contents of the package when he dumps it on the floor. More packets fall out, all labeled with their contents. Mixed fruit, salt, plastic utensils, instant coffee, a powered grape drink. Even matches. Pretty much anything a person could need. Handy.

The brothers eat in silence. Above us, the noise from the zombies has settled down, turning from a constant pounding on the door to a few dull thumps every now and then. I strain my ears, trying to hear any noise over the sounds of the dead. Parvarti should be on her way to find us soon, and I want to be ready when she gets here.

Time passes and the men finish eating. The sounds from above become less and less frequent. My stomach growls, and I eventually tear into my own MRE, eating the food without really thinking about it. Not even tasting it. The only flashlight we have grows dimmer, but Parvarti still doesn’t come.

And nothing happens to Angus.

“You feel worse?” Axl says after what feels like hours of silence.

Angus shakes his head. “Nope. This bite hurts like a son of a bitch an’ I gotta pee, but that’s ‘bout all.”

“Maybe he’s immune,” I say, echoing the words Hadley screamed back at the shelter when James was bitten. Even as I say it, I feel stupid.

Axl sits forward, narrowing his gray eyes on me. “You think?”

I shrug, even though I don’t really believe it’s possible. That would be too much to hope for.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Angus drags himself to his feet and walks to other side of the room, just past the stairs, stopping in the corner. “Gotta take a piss. Don’t let me catch you peekin’, Blondie,” he says as he pulls his zipper down.

I groan and roll my eyes.

Axl is still staring at me, but he doesn’t relax. “You think he could be immune?”

“I don’t know, Axl. It’s been hours and nothing has happened. He should feel
something
, right?”

The sound of Angus’s urine hitting the cement wall echoes through the room.

“Let’s not get all crazy,” he says, not looking over his shoulder. “It’s gonna happen and we all know it.”

“You could get lucky,” I say as hope swirls around inside me.

He snorts. “No such thing as luck.”

Angus should be feeling some kind of change by now. First, it’s a lethargic state and a drop in body temperature. No fever with this virus. Then the person bounces back. I remember how Emily seemed to snap out of it in a matter of minutes, going from laying around doing nothing to wanting to play with little Ava. It’s always possible Angus missed the first two steps for some crazy reason—we really know nothing about how this virus works—but he ate. Emily said she was hungry, but when I tried to get her to eat, she wouldn’t. She said it tasted funny. Angus not only ate his MRE, but half of mine. No, he doesn’t fit with the pattern at all.

Angus zips up his fly and heads back our way, throwing himself on the floor next to me.

I pick the flashlight up and scoot closer. “I want to take a look at your bite.”

He shrugs. “Don’t matter, but if it makes you feel better.”

Axl moves closer as I hold the light over the wound. The teeth marks look like double crescents of jagged puncture marks. The skin is torn and red, with dried blood caked all over it. There’s no denying it was a set of sharp, human teeth that did this. Not that I expected to see something different.

I lower the flashlight and sit back.

“You find what you’re lookin’ for?” Angus asks.

“I don’t know what I was looking for.”

“Makes two of us,” he says with a grunt. “All you’re gonna end up doin’ is gettin’ your hopes up, and this ain’t just ‘bout me. You start thinkin’ people can live through a bite, then you’re gonna start believin’ there’s an end to all this somewhere. That’s dangerous, Blondie.”

“Stop calling me Blondie, Angus.”

He shrugs but of course doesn’t promise to stop.

“We gotta get outta here,” Axl mutters. “Get back to see the doc. See what he says.”

“He don’t know shit. The doc’s good, but this might as well be a leprechaun bite. Ain’t nothin’ he can do ‘bout it.”

I let out a deep breath and lean against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. I don’t know why, but I think Angus is wrong, and I’m just about to tell him as much when the distant sound of a horn breaks through the silence in the cellar.

I sit up and look toward the brothers, who are staring up at the cellar door. The horn blares again, this time longer. Axl jumps to his feet and immediately grabs my hand so he can pull me up as well. It must be instinct, because he’s still pissed and I know it. Angus jumps up behind us, but before he heads to the stairs, he runs over and sweeps up three more boxes of MREs. Good thinking.

“Rambo’s here,” Angus says, heading toward the stairs.

“‘Bout time.” Axl looks down at me, and his eyebrows pull together. My hand is still in his, but he doesn’t let it go. If anything, his grip tightens on it. “They’re probably usin’ the horn to draw ‘em away, but not all of ‘em are gonna go. We gotta be careful.”

That’s why he’s suddenly decided to give me the time of day. He’s afraid I’m going to get bitten too.

“We’ll be alright,” I say, pulling my hand out of his.

Axl’s eyes move to my hand, but he just nods and starts up the steps.

Before I can follow, Angus pushes past me. “Back up! You ain’t the one bit, so you ain’t goin’ first. I am. No way in hell I’m lettin’ you charge out there ‘head of me.”

He shoves the boxes into Axl’s hands, then takes a deep breath. I square my shoulders, preparing myself for what’s about to come. The horn is still honking, but it seems to be quieter than it was at first, and I know Axl is right. Someone is leading the zombies off so we can get out. Thank God these things are dumb.

Angus whips out his knife, then shoves the door open. It slams against the ground above us as light pours into the cellar, temporarily blinding me. My hands go to my eyes, and it hits me for the first time that I’m not armed. My knife got lost in the fight, and I ran out of bullets. If only I hadn’t taken my jacket off.

Before I’ve even had a chance to adjust to the bright light, Angus is yelling for me to move. I do my best, squinting and shielding my eyes as I charge up the stairs behind Angus. The horn is still blaring in the distance, and Angus is cursing up a storm—as usual—but the moaning of the dead is minimal.

Icy air whips across my skin when I step out. I pry my eyes open, only to find snow swirling around us. It’s coming down in fat flakes, and already another inch must have fallen while we were stuffed into that cellar. It makes the junk littering the yard impossible to see as I rush forward. My toes bang against hidden hubcaps and I stumble over buried bags of trash as I try to keep up with the brothers. Then my feet get tangled in something soft, and my whole body lurches forward. I throw my hands out to cushion the blow, landing in the snow with a thud that vibrates up my arms. My thin T-shirt is soaked the second I hit the ground, and shivers have started moving through my body.

“Vivian!” Axl yells as I roll onto my back.

He’s only a few feet in front of me, but he’s stopped running. Angus is in front of him, his knife drawn as he runs for the few bodies still lumbering through the backyard.

Whatever it was that tripped me up is still tangled around my feet. I kick at it until it’s loose enough to get off, then start to scramble up. That’s when I notice the brown plaid pattern peeking through the snow. It’s Axl’s jacket!

I scoop it up off the ground as I jump to my feet, running after Axl and Angus. The horn has gotten further away, and it looks like most of the zombies followed it. Totally clearing our way to the car. Even more wonderful is the fact that the SUV’s engine is running and Parvarti is sitting behind the wheel.