Surge (57 page)

“Jacket,” he orders and waves a hand at my charred sweatshirt.

It may be early September, but the chill is coming in at night; and from my skin being burned, it’s a necessity. So, it’s with great reluctance that I slide the smoky fabric off my shoulders, to enable the Doc to get better access. It’s a quick exam, focusing mostly on my lungs. Saying I’m a little raspy from all the smoke, Akio gives me an inhaler and orders me to take a few puffs of antihistamine. I raise my eyebrows at him, but he just rolls his eyes, and says that
‘while it’s not ideal, it’s the best he could do at the moment.’

Satisfied that I’m breathing, if somewhat uncomfortably with burning airways, Akio moves on to addressing the burns. I’m diagnosed with some smoke inhalation, bad first degree burns to the right side of my face, mild second degree ones on my hand, and a minor singe on my right shin; most likely from booting my way through fire without the proper equipment.

All in all, small penance I’d willingly pay again, so long as Olivia and her adopted brother are alright. He may be an overprotective asshole, but I can’t hold against him, because I can be just as bad when it comes to Sarah. Besides, if I’m going to instill myself in Olivia’s life, the bastard will undoubtedly always be there, so I might as play nice. Or attempt to at least, since I plan on snatching her back as soon as the Doc is done wrapping me up.

“You’ll have to take it easy for the next few days,” Akio says as he works.

He’s currently wrapping my hands. The Doc’s already done the leg, head and left hand; so he’s working on the right one that took the brunt of the abuse. First with punching out the window, then the hot door handle, and who the fuck knows what other flames I unwittingly touched. I nod at the order, but how the hell can I take it easy when we’re homeless, injured, and racing against infected? Speaking of, I go to appoint the twins and Tommy to go on watch, only to find they’re already on it. Carlos is near the left side’s woods, Oscar’s on the right, and Tommy’s watching the road.

“That’s not taking it easy,” Akio’s voice hisses. My eyes snap to his, and I see anger in their depths. Look at Doctor Devoid, finally showing some emotion. I don’t know whether to applaud the change, or hunt down the bitch responsible for breaking through the unaffected exterior.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “Just a little stressed here. I mean, we’re homeless, Olivia’s breathing through a tube, a good portion of our supplies have been burned...”

“The Jag has been stolen,” John adds and my attention snaps to him. It earns me a cuff to the head from the Doc, but I ignore it.

“The Jag’s gone?” I repeat and see him confirm it with a nod.

“The Jag is gone, along with the map the twins were plotting our route on.”

“Fucking bitch,” I hiss. “She better pray that we don’t make it, or the first thing I’m doing, is flushing her out so I can strangle her to death.”

“Not if Olivia does it first,” John comments and points his chin behind me. Glancing over, I see my fuming pixie clutching Cory’s arms with white knuckles; which are exposed because her gloves have perished in the fire with the rest of her leather gear, and there’s murder in her eyes.

“You get better, and I’ll hold her still for you to strangle, alright?” I propose and see her raise a single thumbs up. Turning back to John, I ask for more. “How the hell did she take it, and what supplies did we lose?”

“From what Danny and I judged,” John begins. “She must have stolen them along with Oscar’s bag, since it’s missing from the van’s trunk. He said he put it there this morning, after he and Carlos finished drawing out a route. The Jag had a bag of weapons. A hunting rifle, a bunch of clubs, bats and knives were all inside.” I curse, we need that shit. “And it had the last duffle of food. The other one was in the house.”

“Fuck!” I exclaim and run a patched hand through what used to be thick hair. Feeling the scaly skin, without so much as peach fuzz on top, I abruptly pull my hand away. I’m pissed enough, no need to be reminded how close we were to losing people that can’t be replaced. Supplies can, sure it takes a little bit effort, but people can never be recovered once they’re gone. Like Olivia said, they don’t regenerate.

“We’ll be okay,” I say in a now calm voice. “We’ve gathered before, we can gather again.” John nods in agreement. “See if we have another map, and look for the nearest town. Once we get Olivia and Cory settled into a new safe house with the others, you and I will go out on a run.”

“The fuck you will,” John counters, and crosses his arms, as he glares at me. “You just ran into a burning building like you’re freaking Superman, and you’re not. Have you looked at yourself lately? You look like you belong in a burn unit, and are waiting for skin grafts, so you aren’t going any-freaking-where but a bed.”

“But,” I begin and stop when John makes a slashing motion like Olivia taught him to say,
‘shut the fuck up.’

“No buts,” he orders. “There are plenty of able bodied people to do what needs to be done.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I demand. “Sit around and be a drain on the group? You know that I’d go stir crazy.”

“No, you’re not going to be a
‘drain on the group.’ 
You’re going to
heal
, so if you want to get back to contributing as soon as possible, you rest the fuck up!” John demands and continues with a pointed look at me. “Just like you’ve been nitpicking Olivia to do for the past three days. If anyone will be going stir crazy, it’ll be her.”

I glance over to see Olivia avoiding my eyes, as she picks at her fingernails. Fuck, there goes my big mouth again. Pulling my hands away from Akio, who tosses his own up in the worldly sign of
‘have it your way, I give up,’
 I force myself to stumble up onto my tired feet and walk over. She doesn’t pay no mind to me, pretending I’m not there, so I crouch down to her level.

“I’m sorry, my big mouth ran away from me again,” I say quietly. Olivia still doesn’t look at me, so I tilt her chin up gently with my fingers. When she closes her eyes, still refusing to look at me, I try again. “You aren’t a drain, it was poorly said. I just can’t be idle for long. You know that patience isn’t a virtue of mine.” Keeping her eyes hidden, she gives me a slight nod. “Olivia, please look at me.”

Finally her lids lift to reveal tear filled greys. Doesn’t that punch me right in the chest. “Please don’t cry,” I say and brush my bandaged thumb underneath to catch the one escaped droplet. “I’m a thoughtless prick, I shouldn’t have said something like that.” Lifting her hand, she grabs hold of mine that’s still cupping her cheek, and gives her head a slight shake as she points at her throat. “You’re in pain?”

Biting her lip, she gives me a tiny thumbs up. I’ve no doubt that she is in pain, but that’s not all, I can see it in her eyes. There’s something like guilt hidden in her depths, and I wish she could talk so I could demand answers, but that’ll have to wait. As soon as we get to a new safe house, I’ll find her some new writing materials, and make her write out what she’s hiding.

“I’ll find something for you,” I promise. “As soon as we find somewhere to stay tonight, I’ll ask Akio what he needs and get it, alright?” I can tell Olivia wishes that she could argue, but she sighs and holds up a thumb in defeat. “Good, then let’s get you into the van.”

Without further ado, I scoop her out of Cory’s arms, and don’t hear so much as a squeak out of her. Then I remember that she can’t even squeak, and it makes me feel like a dick for hiking her up like a football, so I stop to meet her eyes. They’re currently glaring at me, but I’ll gladly take that over the frightened girl who would have cowered from me after so much physical contact just a few days ago. Pretending I don’t see her pointing to be put down, I wave for the rest of the group to head to the cars, while ignoring the pinch Olivia gives me on my poor abused chest.

Most of the group runs over and packs into the car like a parade of clowns, but my count is off by one. Cory trudges past me, still hacking away. The twins are transferring items from the BMW to the van, with John and Danny helping them. Marissa, Chelsea and Sarah are already seated inside with Whitney, Mike and Akio. Leonard is ordering everyone around like a foreman. So, where the fuck is Tommy?

“Tommy?” I call out. Olivia taps my shoulder and points behind me. I look over to see him carrying a stack of the metal bars that were attached to the windows. “What the fuck are ya going to do with those?”

Olivia pinches me again. I know that she wants me to be easy on him, but I’m a man like Tommy, so I know that he’d rather me be blunt with him; regardless of his anxiety problem. Nothing’s worse than being treated differently for something you can’t help, but Olivia has that whole nature vs. nurture thing going on, so she only sees it as being an ass. I’ll explain the method to my madness to her later, right now; I want to know why the hell he wants to bring the things that almost cost me Olivia.

“Pr-protection,” he stutters. He takes a deep breath and releases it. “I don’t want another a-accident.” Tommy points at the battered BMW as reference.

“So, you want to block the windows to the van?” I ask and he nods. “It’s a good idea, as soon as we can get into a town, we’ll find a hardware shop so that we can get whatever you need.”

“Al-alright,” he replies and scurries past me with his burden.

Following Tommy’s hurried escape, I reach the van, and carefully pass Olivia inside to Cory’s awaiting arms. Once I make sure she’s settled in, and as comfortable as someone with a straw sticking out of them can be, I walk around to the trunk. John scowls at me, and points for me to get in the van, but I ignore that in favor of checking what we have left for supplies. Not much, considering a lot of it went inside the ranch; like personal bags, the duffel of food, and half of our water jugs.

All that survived the blaze and Kelly’s subsequent theft, is the second duffel of weapons; which Tommy meticulously packed with rifles, ammo and knives, my backpack that I never left Olivia long enough to grab, the remaining kit that Akio’s been denoted to, Olivia’s machete which never left the BMW because of her injury, and the three bags that were carried out of the blaze. This means that Cory and Olivia have their stuff; I have mine, and everyone else lost theirs. But that’s okay, things can be replaced, and they will be as soon as we are able to do so. I’m just about to close the van, when I notice something else that’s missing, or should I say something else that was stolen.

“No gas,” I say and point to the empty spot in the trunk, where we previously had a row of full gas tanks strapped down. Now, there’s only the garden hose Olivia chopped in three pieces to siphon gas tanks with, and the empty buckle strap that was attached to the trunk to prevent cargo from rolling around.

“Kelly must have used them as the accelerant,” Oscar replies. “It spread too fast to have been anything else.” I nod, because I remember the distinct smell of gasoline being concentrated around the sick room’s barricaded door.

“But Olivia has a tank in her trunk,” Carlos offers. “Sure, it’ll take longer, but we still have the means to collect it in the first place.”

“We’ll worry about that later,” John adds. “Jared, get the fuck in the van, before I toss your burned ass in myself.” I flip him off, but move to do as he said. Not to listen to him of course, but because I’m dead on my feet. Just as I’m about to climb in, I hear John say something about a jack.

“What do you need a jack for?” I ask.

“Never mind you,” John gives as a non-answer. “We can handle a tiny flat.”

“Tiny flat, my ass,” Carlos mutters.

“Esa maldita puta,” Oscar curses.

“What happened?” I demand and step away from the door. I cross my arms to show that I’m not going anywhere, until I get an answer.

“Kelly stabbed the tire,” John answers. Then he scowls and points at the car. “Now, get the fuck inside the car, and don’t you dare think of driving.”

I growl as I slam the driver’s door closed, and drag myself around to the passenger seat. If I can’t drive, the least I can do is supervise whoever is. No need for us to come all this way, only to wrap around a pole. I feel the van start to tip as they jack the car up, so after strapping myself in, I turn sideways in my seat in order to look into the back.

Most get a cursory look to make sure they’re all accounted for, but I pause to see Sarah kneeling backwards in the last row so that she can order around the guys in the trunk. Leonard looks stressed, which is expected, but also not a good thing for someone with a recent heart condition. Mike is another I pause at, he said he’s recovered from the gunshot, but I’m not taking any unnecessary chances. I know that the rest from the last few days, and another immediate stop, should ensure that he really is fit for the long travel ahead.

Finally, I come to the person I really turned around to see. Cory’s sitting in the chair beside her, holding one of her hands in white knuckled grip, his head resting back on the chair with his eyes closed. That must hurt, but Olivia allows it. I’m guessing that it’s another one of those nurture instincts that she most definitely has. Another one is apparent in the way she’s currently rubbing her cheek against a frightened Morris. He usually rides in his pet carrier, so either it was burned; which I suspect it was, or Olivia chose to comfort him instead of stowing him away.

I’m starting to tolerate the prick because it looks like he gives her as much comfort as she gives him. That was especially the case when she was cooped up the sick room. The fucker didn’t leave her side for more than ten minutes at a time, and even then it was only to eat or go outside. I was almost in danger of envying a cat, now isn’t that sick?

I’m pulled out of my head when Olivia’s grey eyes open and meet mine. Lifting her hand from Morris’s back, she points at the side of my bandaged head. I haven’t looked at it yet, I’m not vain, so I don’t really care what it cost me in the looks department to save the girl that I want to keep, for as long as she’ll have me. And she does have me, if she ordered me to run to Canada and get her favorite chocolate bar right now, I’d scour the entire country until I found it. Yes, it may sound whipped, but if Olivia’s holding the reins, I’ll gladly do it whatever it is with a smile.