Blood Run (41 page)

Peter dropped his head again. “I almost didn’t. The night…the night that it all went wrong…I was in the lab when you came in and…” he glanced at Evans, and his eyes were strange, intense and distracted. “I saw you save Promise. I was glad because I couldn’t go to her, couldn’t let her see me. There was so much blood. On the floor and the walls and on the tables from what Billet had done to those people. He just…he tore them apart. And the more he did that…even
as
he did it…I felt something trying to…to come up. In myself. Something savage and…” he broke off and ran a hand over his face. “And I liked it. That was the part that…that still bothers me. I liked the blood and the savagery. It seemed so exciting and natural, almost. As though this was the way the world was supposed to be, the biting and killing,” Peter said and then hesitated.

He seemed to be censoring himself, and Evans shifted uneasily. “I stayed in the lab until it got quiet. I can…I can hear very well now,” he smiled at Evans briefly and then continued. “Once it was quiet, and I felt calmer then I went to find everyone. But I didn’t realize how long I’d been in the lab. Something must have been wrong with me. My mind wasn’t working right, time didn’t seem right. The building was deserted. I saw you…saw Promise…at the last second, though. I’d come outside, but the sun was…man, it was making me sick. I ran to the woods and watched as everyone left. Promise, she looked right at me. I thought she saw me, but maybe she didn’t. It was better anyway because already I was beginning to think that I might not be as…as normal…as I was before. It seemed I’d sunk into being a vampire. Almost a full one. I didn’t want to jeopardize her.”

Peter sighed, and his face filled with a deep sadness. Then he shook his head as if to clear his mind. “The horses…someone must have turned them out. They were outside, and they found me. Snow did, you know, and Ash was with her. I was feeling pretty sick by then, couldn’t even get up, but I managed to get myself onto Snow’s back, and we went back into the base. I rested all that day, and by late afternoon, I felt good. I felt really good. Physically, I mean. Mentally, I was still a mess,” he said and grinned sadly at Evans. “Part of me was telling me to ride in another direction. That I shouldn’t jeopardize Promise and the cure and you guys. But in the end, I had to follow her. That part was stronger, the wanting to be with her part.”

Evans shrugged. “You did the right thing, then,” he said.

“Did I? I’m not sure. I’m not myself anymore.”

“You were worse before though, right? Right after you’d been bit? You fought it off then.”

Peter nodded. “I did but…I don’t know. It was different. I had more strength or something.”

“Man, you’re plenty damn strong. My ankles are gonna be bruised until the New Year. I think you might have crushed my bones a little, too, dragging me out of that Humvee,” Evans said.

“I don’t mean like that, I mean mentally strong. Mentally able to will it back,” Peter said.

Evans shrugged. “You’re probably just tired. It couldn’t have been easy catching up to us.”

“I rode through the nights. That’s what I was telling Promise,” Peter said, and his voice held that cast of odd shame. “I got a lot more road time than you guys did.”

“Well, shit,” Evans said and barked out a harsh laugh. “That’s probably half your problem right there.” He laughed again, and Peter scowled in confusion.

“I don’t getcha,” Peter said.

“It’s like crack to a crack addict. Man, the more you’re out at night and
acting
like one of them, the more you’re going to
be
one of them. It’s like you…I dunno…identified with them too strongly for too long a time. The shit that went down at the base didn’t help either, I’m sure.” Evans’ face darkened, and he looked at his own clasped hands. “What happened to Billet, him being changed and all…that was messed up. It was hard to–hard to see,” he sighed and looked up. “But you had to do what you did. You
did
kill him, right?”

Peter’s eyes filled with sorrow. He nodded. “Yeah. He would have killed Promise and that–I couldn’t take it. But during the fight, I kept getting stronger and stronger. At first, he was kind of tossing me around, but the angrier I got, the more worked up I got…in the end, it wasn’t much of a contest. But it was–the way I went about it was–” A tremor ran through Peter’s body and closed his mouth with a snap.

“Overboard?” Evans said.

“Overboard?” Peter echoed, confused.

“Yeah. Did you go overboard? Did you…you know…over
kill
him?” Evans knew what fear, rage, and strain could do to a mind. He’d been a soldier a long time, and his own brushes with overkilling had left a set of deep, mental scars to remind him. Every day they reminded him.

Peter was nodding slowly, realization dawning across his features. “Yeah, I see what you mean, now. Yeah, it was…it was bad and–”

Evans put a hand up, cutting him off. “I don’t want to know. I’m not a therapist, man, and I’ve got my own shit to deal with. And Billet was my friend. You did what you had to do, I get that, but I don’t want to hear about it, you got me?”

“Yeah. I got it,” Peter said and lowered his head again. “So, what now?”

“Shit, I don’t know. Sleep tonight; take a pill if you can find something out on those shelves. Ignore that part of you. Get some sun. Just keep pushing it down until it stays down. But I’ll tell you one more thing,” Evans turned and gazed at Peter from cold, stony eyes. “You sleep separate from her until you get your shit together. You can go back to riding together during the day–if she wants to, which I think she will–but you stay far, far away from her at night. Remember how you felt about Billet going after her?”

Peter nodded.

“Well, that’s how I feel, too…about
you
.” Evans extended a finger and poked Peter in the chest. “And I will overkill you. Even though you’re a vampire, trust me, I’ll find a way. Because
nothing
can happen to her.”

A smile spread across Peter’s features, and he looked more like himself than he had since he’d been back. “I agree with you on that. And I’m glad you’re looking out for her,” he said and then tilted his head, considering Evans. “You love her?” he asked.

“Not like you might think,” Evans said, standing, ending the conversation. “She reminds me of someone, that’s all.” Promise reminded him of his little sister who’d died in very bad circumstances. But he didn’t have to share that with Peter, even if the guy
had
saved his life. As far as Evans was concerned, there was entirely too much
sharing
going on in the world already. “There’s a row of pharma in the back room; I saw it when we were sweeping the place. Might be something back there you can take to knock yourself out,” he said and opened the door. He looked back at Peter, and his eyes had gone cold again, speculative. “I don’t trust you yet, Peter.”

“Even though I saved your life?”

Evans nodded as though that were answer enough.

Promise leaned in the saddle and ran her hand along Ash’s shoulder. Her fingers warmed themselves under his mane, and then she let her hand trail upward and cup one of his big, stiff, soft ears. He rumbled deep in his chest, almost a purr but bassier, more felt than heard. Promise smiled and hugged him, leaning over his neck. They’d been through so much together. She was so glad to have him back. She stood in the stirrups and blew into his ear, and he pawed the ground and threw his head up and down, jingling the reins. She laughed and for a few moments, it was just her and Ash, and nothing had ever happened before this time and nothing would come after. It was just…this.

“They’re moving,” Peter said.

She looked up, and the last Humvee in the line was just starting to roll. She glanced at Peter, feeling almost shy. It was like the beginning of their trip when she’d realized all at once how unorthodox it was to be doing something so impulsive with someone she barely knew. She still didn’t know him very well, but there was more to it than that. She felt…connected to him…bonded…in a way that she understood through feelings that would never be explained by words. It was a language all its own.

“You feel better today,” she said, and he nodded. She turned Ash and kicked him into a fast walk. Snow followed suit.

“I slept. I think that helped a lot. It was Evans’ idea, actually,” Peter said and grinned at her. “If you can believe it.”

“I can believe it. There’s more to him than we knew,” she said. “For such an angry person, he’s really…not
nice
, that wouldn’t be the right word…”

“Loyal. Steadfast. True,” Peter said.

She nodded. “Yeah, those things,” she said.

He turned his face up to the strong morning sun.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” she asked. She was used to him covering up in the sun, keeping his exposure to a minimum. He didn’t burn like the vampires did, but he’d get sick if he got too much.

“It doesn’t hurt so much as itch. Like my skin is crawling. But it helps my mind; I can feel it minimizing the disease…like when you take aspirin for a sore throat,” he opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Evans was right about that, too.”

They were quiet for a while as the convoy growled along in front of them. The gentle back and forth, back and forth generated by Ash’s gait was soothing, and having Snow next to her was soothing, and having Peter back. Especially since he was so much better this morning. Last night, when Evans had told her that Peter would sleep with the horses, but she was to stay by his–Evans’–side, she’d been frightened. What did it mean? Would she never have Peter back the way he was? Was he dangerous?

But he seemed almost back to himself today.

“I can’t believe we’ll be in Wereburg by this afternoon,” Promise said. The words alone were enough to send a thrill through her, and she felt for a second light and buoyant. Then her mind went naturally to Chance, and her good feelings were dampened by fear, and her eyes became shadowed with doubt.

“Promise?” Peter said, sensing the shift in her mood. “What is it?”

“I had a dream where I was responsible for everyone dying because of Chance,” she said, spitting it all out at once like something bitter, maybe even poisonous. “I’m afraid that we’ll ride into Wereburg, and it will be like those other deserted outposts–everyone will be dead or changed. I’m afraid that it will be my fault.”

She looked away from him and fixed her eyes on the Humvee they rode behind. It was both better and worse, now that she had said it. Better because it was always better to air out the bad feelings–her mom had taught her that–but worse, too, because talking about it too much seemed akin to making it real.

“Well, it wouldn’t be just
your
fault,” Peter said, “if something happened to Wereburg.”

“I don’t see why not,” Promise said, the words clipped, almost angry. Not looking for an answer, merely stating the fact of her belief.

“It would be mine, too. And Mark’s and Lea’s,” he said. “We all participated.”

“But it was my idea,” she said. “Chance is
my
brother.”

“Promise, you didn’t twist anyone’s arm. We each made the decision to help based on our own feelings, not because we felt bad for you. Well,” he chuckled, startling her. “Let me amend that: I was and am definitely sympathetic, there’s no question about that. I can certainly empathize. But I’m also doing it for myself and also, at least in a small way, for the greater good. If we could reclaim our…our loved ones…how amazing would that be? If there are people who can be turned back,
cured
…” He savored the word ‘cured,’ lingering over it, his tone almost reverential. “The implications are astounding.”

She didn’t know how to answer and found she was not yet ready to release the burden of guilt she held in her heart. She
wanted
to release it…but feared that doing so might jinx them. Might jinx Wereburg. She superstitiously felt that as long as she acknowledged the possibility in her mind, then the reality would not come to pass.

Peter remained quiet, seeming to realize that her silence was not a stubborn refusal of his words.

As the road opened up, the convoy picked up speed. Ash and Snow had to trot and then canter to keep up. The horses could maintain an easy lope for miles. They would be in Wereburg in no time. Again, Promise felt an anxious twist in her stomach, and she lifted her chin, letting the cold air wash over her, cooling her burning mind.

Yes, they would be in Wereburg soon…but what would they find when they got there?

Chapter 5

Wereburg was deserted.

At this hour, late afternoon, people should have been out, they should have been enjoying the last rays of sun and trundling supplies to the high school. But the sidewalks were empty, the surrounding stores were vacant, and the stone steps of the high school–normally containing at least a handful of residents reading or knitting or just visiting with each other–were vacant.

A hot, hard nugget of fear burned just below Promise’s windpipe. Ash danced and whinnied loudly as her tightening knees dug into his sides. Her trembling, so minute that Peter, even right next to her, would not have seen it, came through loud and clear to Ash. He snorted, and his front feet came off the ground. Her eyes trained on the high school, Promise seemed not to even notice. Her own nerves were stretched so taut that the horse’s behavior seemed just an extension of her own tumultuous feelings.

The convoy pulled up to the high school and sat at the curb, idling. No one emerged from the vehicles, not even Miller. The afternoon had become one collective, held breath.

Ash whinnied again as Promise’s nervous hands tightened his rein. It was a sharp sound, more irritation than worry, and it cut across the silent front of the big brick building, echoing back emptily.

A door to the school banged open, and Lea ran out. Tears streamed down her cheeks. For an instant, Promise thought Lea was screaming.

She was.

“You’re back! You’re back!” Lea yelled and ran down the stairs, stumbling and laughing.