The Survivor Chronicles (Book 3): The Forsaken (13 page)

Though the words sounded accusatory, her tone wasn't. "It's ok," Xander assured her. "He asked about Lee and..."

"And you can't lie to him," she whispered.

"I don't think there's room for lies between any of us."

"You're probably right," she agreed but tears still shimmered in her eyes.

"It's fine, he understands Ri. Come on, you can torture me for a bit, that will probably make you feel better."

She blinked away the tears as she released a snort of laughter. "It will."

He slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. Despite the lack of a shower and the days old clothes she wore, he caught the hint of the soap she'd used to wash her hair with in the bathroom as she rested her head on his shoulder. Her breath tickled against his neck when she lifted her head and pressed a kiss against him.

A shiver of pleasure slid over his skin, his hands clenched on her shoulder as they stepped through the door of the office. With the back of his foot, he nudged the door closed to give them at least a few minutes of privacy. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, drawing her before him to kiss her fully on the mouth. The building and people faded into the distance as everything within him became focused upon her. In those few stolen moments his whole world became centered upon everything that she was and everything that they could be together.
If
they were ever given a chance to see where it could all go, to see what they could become as a couple. He knew that the two of them shared something so incredibly special and right.

His fingers slid into her hair as he pulled her head back to deepen the kiss. Her hands dug into his back as she clung to him. He could stay here forever, lose himself to her and briefly shut out the rest of the world, but as much as he desired to do that, he knew that he couldn't.

Reluctantly, his grip on her loosened and he tore himself away from her. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with her inhalations, color crept through her cheeks. Her lashes lowered and she gave him a playful grin that melted his heart even further. Damp tendrils of her hair tangled around his fingers when he slid his hand from her hair.

"Let's get you taken care of," she whispered.

She stepped away from him and gestured toward the office chair. He slumped into the seat and propped his leg out for her. With tender care she began to unwrap the bandage from his leg. A lot of the swelling and redness had come out of the wound, and though it was still sore looking with some blood and puss, it looked a lot better than it had.

Riley's shoulders slumped; her eyes sparkled with joy as she lifted her head to him. "It looks much better."

"It's feeling a lot better."

The door creaked open and Al stuck his head in. "How's it going?"

"Really good," Riley assured him.

"Glad to hear it." He ducked back out of the office.

"I think that we can start leaving it unwrapped once in awhile." Even as she said the words she was pulling a bandage out of the bag. "When you're in the car."

He bit back a smile at her commanding attitude, it appeared she got bossier the more tired and stressed she became. She re-bandaged his leg and sat back on her heels. "That should do it."

Xander stood up and pulled the door open. The others were gathered near the front door, peering out the glass. Carl's face was strained, his mouth pursed as he glanced at them over his shoulder. "We have company."

"What is it?" Riley demanded as she pulled the gun out from where it had been tucked against her back. Xander blinked at the no nonsense attitude that descended over her and the quickness with which she grabbed the weapon.

How much had they all already changed and how much more were they going to change before this was over?
he wondered.

"Two cars," Carl answered.

Xander felt his spirits crash at this intrusion into their brief reprieve. Al, Carl, Riley and John had gathered together at the front of the group by the door. He elbowed his way past Peter and Josh to join them as a small black car pulled to a stop behind the truck. Another blue car was right behind it.

Xander found that he was barely breathing as the doors on both vehicles opened. A man and woman stepped out of the first car and two women and one man climbed out of the second. The first man and woman hurried to the back passenger door and opened it. Xander didn't know what they were doing until they pulled a young woman from the backseat. The man wrapped her arm around his shoulder and propped her up as the woman hurried to close the door.

The young woman the man was holding winced and buried her head in the man's chest. She lifted her hand over her eyes. She nearly fell as her knees gave out but the man was able to keep her up.

"She's sick," Riley muttered as the new arrivals started to make their way toward the building.

John,

John's gaze was riveted upon the group of people as they made their way toward the glass doors of the building. The look on the girl's face was one he'd seen before and knew he would never forget. Lee had looked just like that, shortly before he'd decided that intestines were his new favorite happy meal. John shuddered at the reminder as his stomach twisted sickly. He had to fight the urge to grab the door and hold it closed as the group of people stopped to survey the truck.

He didn't see any weapons amongst them but even still he didn't like it when their gazes turned toward the front doors. With the sun behind them, John didn't think they were able to see inside the building. There was no flicker of acknowledgement on the people's faces as their gazes ran over the doors. Even if it seemed like they couldn't see into the building, John refused to take a small breath. The new arrivals remained standing by the truck, talking amongst themselves as they tried to decide what to do.

"I hope they don't try for the truck," Carl muttered.

John hoped for the same thing but judging by the look of them, he didn't think they were in any condition to put up a fight, or to continue their journey. "She's not the only who's sick," Riley whispered. "The other man is sick too. Maybe even more of them."

John tore his gaze away from the girl and focused on the man at the back of the group. There were etched lines around his pursed lips that Lee had also exhibited when he'd first woken again in the hotel. It was a look of bleak despair that John knew immediately, and feared. There was little spark of life left within the man's shadowed eyes.

If he'd been dead, John would have been certain that someone was tap dancing on his grave as shivers ran over his body. He was alive though, or at least he was fairly certain that he was still alive, but that was a dilemma to sort through on another day.

"We have to get out of here," Carl said but he didn't move.

John waited impatiently, his gaze focused on Carl's unmoving hand upon the door. "Before they decide human flesh is the new chicken," he prompted.

He felt Carl's eyes slide toward him but he didn't look at him as the people outside began to move again. The young girl's legs buckled and another woman in the group leapt forward to help the man holding her to keep her up. They braced the girl between them as they labored toward the doors that they were standing behind.

John could almost feel the points of those tap shoes digging into his back as the closer they got the more he was able to recognize the signs of the sickness on their faces. "Carl..."

Carl threw his shoulders back and pushed open the door. It was too late for them to escape the building before the other group arrived though. Even as Carl was stepping outside, the other group was stumbling toward them. The girl almost dragged the man and woman down with her as her legs gave out but Carl reached out to help steady her. Carl pulled his hands away from the girl as soon as the others were able to support her again.

John had no choice but to step aside as the group staggered into the building. He caught Carl studying his hands before shrugging and dropping them back to his side. "Maybe you should wash those," John suggested.

"That may very well have been the cleanest thing I've done in days," he responded.

John knew he was right but he still wanted to take Carl's hands under a hot spray of water and douse them with soap. The other sick man almost brushed against him as he entered the building but he was able to jump back before
that
could happen.

It took all he had not to sprint into the bathroom and start scrubbing his skin as the girl collapsed onto the floor. He readjusted his hold on his gun and braced his feet as six sets of eyes swung toward them. The girl, too weak to lift her head, stared at the floor as she slumped against one of the machines.

"We just need a place to rest," the woman that had been helping to carry the girl said as her eyes drifted over the weapons they held. "My daughter she's ah..."

"Sick," Riley supplied.

"She'll be fine," the man that had helped her inside insisted.

For the first time in his life, John bit his tongue and refrained from telling them that there was most likely no chance the girl would recover. What did he know though? Xander had survived the infection that had ravaged his body and for all he knew that may be what was wrong with the girl. She could have just caught some other bug or maybe she'd been attacked by one of those things and was battling an infection too.

And then the girl reached up to rub the back of her neck. The loud clacking of tap shoes rang in his head as her eyes remained squinted closed and her hand continued to massage her neck. He'd seen Lee do that far too often to have any further doubt about what was wrong with the girl. His gaze slid over to the other man that appeared sick as sweat beaded across the man's brow and slipped down the side of his cheek. The two of them didn't look like they could do much damage but he'd seen the inhuman strength that Lee had exhibited and knew exactly what they
could
do to a human body after they got past this stage of the sickness.

The door seemed way too far away for him right now. He hadn't been thinking about it, didn't even recall having any intention of doing it, but he took an abrupt step back. He had the impulse to raise his gun and level it at the girl but he didn't think it would be an accepted course of action right now.

"I'm sure she will," Mary Ellen said.

"We're not looking for any trouble," the woman continued, her gaze focused on the guns they held. "We only need a break. Please."

He hated the pleading tone in her voice, hated the fact that his hand was still clenched around his gun and he was just waiting for the girl to make a move. "We weren't staying," Carl told her and started toward the door.

"Wait!" The woman stretched a hand out to halt them. There was something in her eyes, something so frantic and desperate that for a second John forgot all about the sick people that had entered with them. "Wait please, we haven't seen or spoken with anyone else in days."

"You're probably better off," Riley muttered so softly that he didn't think the words went beyond him and Xander.

"Have you seen anyone else?" the woman asked. "Any form of help?"

"Not in awhile, everything's been so confused and chaotic," Carl answered.

"Even what little help we found turned out to be no help against Mother Nature," Mary Ellen said.

"I'm not sure there's help to be found anywhere anymore," Carl said.

"You have no idea where we can find help?" The hitch in her voice caused him to take a step forward. He was tempted to comfort her, to assure her that it would be alright, but even as the thought flitted across his mind he knew that he couldn't. It wasn't his place to do such a thing and there was no way that he could tell her it would be alright when he knew that it most likely wouldn't.

"I'm sorry," he said simply.

The woman's watery blue eyes focused on him before her hand fell to her side. "There has to be something. There has to be medical personal, military, or some kind of police force somewhere."

"Maybe there is." John doubted that but he couldn't take away the optimism he saw burning in her gaze.

The sweat trickling down his back had nothing to do with the heat of the day and everything to do with the fact the woman was staring at him like he had all the answers, like
he
could be her savior. The only problem was he didn't have any answers and he was most certainly no one's savior. He almost apologized to her again but the words lodged in his throat.

"Have you seen them, those people out there?" she choked out.

"We've seen them," Carl confirmed.

Her gaze shifted to her daughter, apprehension flickered over her features before she pushed it aside and turned back to them. "Where did you come from?"

"The Cape originally," he answered. "Most recently Sturbridge. You?"

"We were in the city." John's ears pricked at these words and the sharp inhalation of breaths filled the room.

"What was it like?" Peter demanded in a far brisker tone than normal.

The woman shook her head but the other woman behind her began to sob quietly. The third woman knelt at her side and rested her hand on her arm reassuringly. John didn't know what to say or do as the man with the pinched mouth slumped against the machine and slid to the floor. Pity slithered through him but at the same time he found his gaze riveted upon the younger girl and the man. All he wanted was to escape from here before whatever was ravaging through their systems rotted their brains and sent them on a rampage.

"Death, there's nothing but death there," the woman before him said in a tone of voice that reminded him of a fortune teller hovering over her crystal ball as she revealed a future no one wanted to hear. "Or at least that's all we encountered there."

"There were more of us," the still healthy looking man said.

"Twenty more of us," the woman in front of him said.

Rochelle pressed in closer against his side. "What happened to them?" she inquired.

The one woman began to sob harder. The young girl continued to rub at her neck as she curled into the fetal position. John struggled against the memory of Lee doing the same thing. What had happened in that gas station wasn't something he liked to recall. He knew what had happened there would haunt him forever, but being confronted by this in his face reminder was causing the memories to churn rapidly. Judging by the pallor of Carl and Riley's faces, the haunted look in Al's eyes, and the hand that Rochelle wrapped around his arm, he wasn't the only one fighting the memories of what had happened to Lee.

A tear slid from the woman's eye before she bowed her head. "There were just so many of those things, we couldn't fight them all off. We had guns..." Her voice trailed off as her gaze slid to the door beyond. "But they're so difficult to stop and there were
so
many of them. We didn't even make it all the way into the city before we were overrun."

"Maybe it was just that one area," Peter suggested.

"You don't know what it was like," the healthy man said as he knelt beside the girl. The look in his eyes mirrored the look of someone who had been to Purgatory and somehow managed to walk out the other side. They'd been through Hell themselves, but there was something in these people's eyes that made him think there were even worse things than what they had endured, and these people had witnessed it. "There is no area through there that is safe. There's nothing left in Boston except murder and destruction. The earthquakes made the roads nearly impassable and those
things
knew it."

"They set a trap," Riley whispered.

"They set a trap," the woman confirmed. "They were everywhere and they were on us before we even realized they were there."

"And then there was just screaming," the other woman said. "Nothing but the endless screaming, and the blood."

No one moved, he didn't even think he took a breath as he stared at the beaten and broken group before them. "They are fast," Rochelle finally said.

"We barely got out of there alive," the healthier looking man informed them.

They hadn't all gotten out of there unscathed though. They had lost more people than they had escaped with and they hadn't escaped the sick people, not entirely. A low moan escaped the girl as she rolled over. "I'm sorry for what you endured, but we were just getting ready to leave," Carl told them.

"Do you have a plan?" the woman asked eagerly. "Somewhere to stay?"

To get the hell away from you
, John thought but he kept his mouth clamped shut. "To keep moving," Xander said. "I would suggest you do the same."

"Keep moving," the man muttered and looked toward the young girl that John assumed was his daughter. "I guess that works."

"It's all we know how to do right now," Xander admitted. He nudged Riley toward the door and nodded at it. "It's safe here though; you'll be able to get some rest for a little bit."

Riley didn't move as her gaze remained riveted upon the young girl. John didn't have to be told twice though, he wanted absolutely nothing to do with the impending meltdown he sensed was about to unfold within this building. Taking hold of Rochelle's hand, he pulled her gently in front of him and toward the door. He looked toward Mary Ellen and nodded for her to go next.

Carl held the door open for Peter, Bobby, and Josh to walk outside. He turned to John and waved his hand at him as Donald slipped outside with the others. John hesitated though as he turned back to Xander and Riley.

"Riley." Xander wrapped his hand around her arm and pulled her toward him but she remained rigid in his grasp. "Ri..."

"She'll turn on you," Riley whispered.

"Riley," Xander hissed as the woman's eyes narrowed upon her.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" the woman retorted.

John had seen snow with more color than Riley's now bleached out pallor as she lifted her head to meet the woman's relentless gaze. "Unfortunately, I do."

John winced and Xander tugged more firmly on Riley's arm as the woman took a threatening step forward. "She's just sick; she'll be fine if she has a chance to get some rest."