Infected (3 page)

What had possessed the older man to think that he could sexually assault her and somehow get away with it?

Justin gently pushed Daniel toward his wife. “Take her and go inside. We’ll handle this.” His gaze landed on Daniel’s knuckles. “And get them cleaned and bandaged. They look awful.”

With a curt nod, Daniel took his wife by the arm and walked out of the woods without sparing the older man another look. Walter released a warning growl before jaunting off after the couple.

Meanwhile, Patrick had struggled to a sitting position. He winced as he wiped the blood from his mouth.

“Ugh. That bastard got me good.” Painfully, he rose to his feet and was about to head toward the mansion when Justin’s low voice stopped him.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Patrick sighed. “Look, I made a mistake. I wasn’t thinking, all right? That woman’s a looker, you can’t deny that.” He winced again, raising a hand to his battered face. “Can we talk about this inside? I need to get my wounds tended to as well.”

Justin’s cold expression stayed the same. “I don’t think so.” When Patrick shot him a startled glance, Justin turned to address Amy. “Run up to the mansion and grab a small bag. Fill it with water, food, and some emergency supplies.” His unwavering gaze landed on Patrick. There was no pity whatsoever in his eyes. “Our friend here will need it for the road.”

“That’s insane!” the older man spluttered. “Y-You can’t just toss me out like this. You’ve got to give me another chance!”

Ignoring his pleas, Justin jerked his chin at Amy. “What are you waiting for? Go.”

She nodded numbly and ran out of the woods, unable to fully register this sudden turn of events.
If you had warned them about Patrick’s sordid habits much earlier, none of this would have happened
, a small voice taunted. Swallowing hard, she squashed these rising feelings of self-blame and focused her attention on the simple task ahead.

After stuffing a small backpack with cans of stew and sausages, candy bars, several bottles of water, a mini first aid kit, and a flashlight, Amy returned to the woods. The sky was darkening to a purplish pink. As soon as she reached the two men, she tossed the bag at Patrick’s feet.

“Can I talk to you alone for a minute?” she asked Justin, her voice tight. When he nodded, she led him to a nearby tree, where they would be out of earshot.

“Make it quick. It’s getting dark, and we should be heading back to the mansion.”

She whirled around, furious. “Thank you for bringing that up. You’re right – it’s getting dark. You
know
he won’t survive out there on his own.”

Justin raised his brows. “I didn’t realize you cared about his well-being.”

Amy clenched her fists. “Stop acting like a jerk. Just look at his face! He’s bleeding, and the smell of that fresh blood will bring the Runners right to him. He won’t stand a chance.”

“They’re not sharks, Amy,” he answered, snorting.

“You’re right; they’re not. They’re far worse.”

Angry silence fell upon them, their ragged breaths filling the air.

“You’ve wanted to get rid of him, ever since we were in the apartment,” Justin said quietly once he’d calmed down. “Well, now you can. He doesn’t have to be a burden on us anymore.”

Amy sighed, upset. “But we can’t send him out like this.”

“So you don’t mind having a molester around?” When she didn’t reply, he continued on. “And what about Marie? After what he tried to do, you think she wants to see him again?”

Everything he said made sense. Amy wanted to throttle the older man senseless for what he’d tried to do. And yet, she resisted the idea of tossing him out under these conditions. There was no way he would survive the night on the road alone. Driving a screwdriver into his temple would be a quicker and more merciful act.

“Why don’t we try this,” she suggested. “We’ll leave Patrick out here, give him a bit of a scare. Maybe spending a night in the woods by himself will knock some sense into him, and it might help him appreciate the importance of being a helpful part of the group. In the meantime, we’ll speak with Marie and Daniel. If they’re willing to forgive Patrick or at least tolerate his presence, we can bring him back tomorrow morning.”

Justin nodded, relenting. “Honestly, I’m willing to give anything a try right now.” He sighed heavily as his tired eyes landed on Patrick, who stood there staring back at them expectantly. “Maybe you were right,” he muttered. “Maybe we should have left in the morning instead of going on a test run.”

Amy patted him on the arm, then went over to Patrick. Even though his face was swelling up fast, she saw panic ripple across his battered features as she slowly explained their decision to him.

“Please! I can’t stay out here alone. I just can’t!”

“It’s only for one night,” she reassured him. “Stay alert and quiet at all times. Besides, it’s better than going out into the roads, where you’re bound to meet a Runner or two. We’ve been lucky here so far. If you stay quiet and hide among the trees, you’ll be fine.”

Justin came over and joined them. “You need to give Marie and Daniel some space,” he added. “You sexually assaulted her, Patrick. Just thank your lucky stars that her husband didn’t maim you.”

“He almost did,” Patrick muttered under his breath, but he bent down to pick up the bag anyway, wincing slightly as he pressed a hand against his stomach.

“I put a first aid kit in the bag,” Amy informed him, watching him carefully. “There are codeine tablets in there, as well as saline, antiseptic wipes, and some bandages.”

He waved her concern away. “Just go. Go back to your warm and safe mansion. But know this – if anything happens to me out here, I’m holding you both accountable.”

“You could try to be a bit remorseful for what you did!” Amy finally snapped back, sick of the whole debacle. She was trying to be compassionate, but the man wasn’t helping at all. “You’re not the victim here, understand?”

Justin grabbed her arm, tugging her along. “We’ll see you in the morning, then,” he said to the older man. Before harsher words could be exchanged, she and Justin left him at the edge of the woods and made their way back to the mansion.

***

Dinner was a quiet and awkward affair. Amy and Justin darted nervous glances at the Korean couple, who sat cross-legged and silently ate their meals, their gazes firmly attached to the floor while Walter devoured his doggy feast next to them. Daniel’s face remained stony and unapproachable.

When they put everything away, Justin cleared his throat, looking extremely uncomfortable. “I’m sorry about what happened back there,” he said carefully. “Amy and I have spoken to Patrick, and –”

“Is he gone?”

Surprised, Amy stared at him. “How did you know about –”

“I saw you packing a small bag just outside the door. It was for Patrick, was it not?” Daniel’s brows furrowed. “So, is he gone?”

Justin gave a fake cough. “Well . . . not quite. He’ll be spending the night in the woods.”

“I see. This means you will not send him away.” Daniel nodded to himself, as though coming to a decision. “Very well. Then my wife and I will leave first thing in the morning.”

That was the last thing Amy wanted to hear. Alarmed, she shook her head angrily.

“No! You can’t do that. All of us are going to that farm. We are
not
going our separate ways!”

“I will not subject my wife to spend another minute with that man!”

This discussion was going nowhere. Amy tossed a helpless glance at Justin, who merely shrugged back at her. He didn’t seem surprised by Daniel’s reaction.

Marie slowly lifted her head, her gaze seeking Amy’s own. “You are a good person, Amy,” she whispered, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. “I understand that you do not want Patrick’s death on our conscience.” Her shoulders slumped in pure misery. “But I do not want to see him again. He disgusts me.”

And that was the final nail in Patrick’s coffin. Seeing the torment in Marie’s face, Amy nodded in resignation, smiling sadly at her friend.

“Okay. We’ll send him away tomorrow as soon as day breaks.” Her voice softened. “You won’t have to see him ever again.”

Daniel reached out to massage his wife’s shoulders. “We should have an early night,” he said to her. “It has been a tiring day.”

The group lay on the blankets, and Amy leaned forward to blow the candles out. As darkness washed over the room, she crawled over to the window and pressed her face against the cold glass pane. Dull moonlight revealed the faint outlines of trees below the hill. She saw a thin beam of light jerkily moving around and wondered if Patrick was having his dinner, not realizing the fate that awaited him tomorrow. What could they say to him? And how would they do it? They couldn’t just toss him out on the road; they had to find a safe spot, a place where he could hide until he could join a new group that was willing to take him in.

That final thought caused Amy to let out a silent, humorless laugh. Who was she kidding? With his lack of survival skills and horrid personality, what could Patrick possibly offer to anyone? He had never even killed a Runner before. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt a migraine coming on.

“Are you mad at me?” a low voice asked to her left, and she jerked her head up to find Justin crouching beside her. She stared at him for a while, then tore her gaze away.

“I don’t know. I guess I thought it would be fairly easy – get on the road and drive to the farm. Things weren’t supposed to be this complicated.”

“Yeah. I bet Garrett thinks we’re all dead by now.”

Amy rubbed her temples. “So, how are we going to do this? Who’s going to tell Patrick?”

“I will,” Justin replied, staring at the roving beam of Patrick’s flashlight in the distance. “We’ll leave in the morning and let Patrick have the mansion, including most of the food boxes. The clinic is secluded and free of Runners, so he should be all right for a while.”

“And later? When the food runs out?”

Justin shook his head. “That’s up to him. If he wants to live, he’ll have to go out and start fending for himself.” When Amy didn’t reply, he tugged at the edge of her shirt. “C’mon. We should have an early night, too.”

He was right. There was no point standing by the window, hoping for a better solution; Patrick’s fate was sealed now, and there was nothing more she could do about that. With a weary sigh, she lay down beside Justin and pulled a blanket over her body, pillowing her head on a folded arm. It seemed like hours passed before sleep finally came.

***

Amy bolted up, hugging herself as she sat on the ground, shivering. She’d had a nightmare about Ms. Wentworth, and the echoes of her anguished screams still rang in her ears. Spooked, Amy pulled the blanket over her hunched shoulders and glanced at the rest of her friends sleeping soundly before her. Even Walter remained asleep, comfortably burrowed inside a blanket nest he’d made for himself.

She continued to sit there, staring at the window. It was dark outside; the moon was partially hidden behind cirrus clouds. Unwilling to go back to sleep, she rose to her feet and padded toward the foyer, quietly opening the door. She wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders as the cool night air hit her on the way out. Slowly, she made her way to The Peak, hoping the walk would clear the graphic images still lingering in her mind. The dream had rattled her far more than she’d realized.

As Amy stood on top of the hill, she briefly wondered if she should go and check up on Patrick, maybe even give him a spare blanket. The night air was chilly enough to keep a person wide awake. Glad that there was something to do, she hurried back down the hill and entered the foyer, feeling her way around. Patrick’s blanket would be on the floor somewhere. Amy fumbled around for a bit, searching here and there, when it dawned on her that Walter had already claimed it as his own, and was comfortably ensconced in it. She paused, cursing under her breath. The spoiled mutt would surely fight to keep it, and she wasn’t in the mood for an unfriendly tug-of-war. There was no help for it, then – she’d have to rummage through the boxes and pull out a new one.

She reached over for the nearest candle and lit it. Tilting it at an angle to avoid the wax from sliding onto her fingers, she carried the waxy stub toward the window and peered through the glass, wondering if Patrick was still messing around with his flashlight. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was deliberately draining the batteries out of spite.

The darkness was so thick that Amy couldn’t even see the faint outlines of the trees. Odd, considering the moon was no longer obscured by passing clouds. With a frown, she pressed her face against the glass, squinting to see better.

It took her about a whole minute to realize that something was blocking her view. A great shudder ran down her body, but she wasn’t entirely sure why. With a trembling hand, she raised the small candle closer to her face, even though some deep, primordial sense warned her not to.

A pair of wide, bloodshot eyes stared back at her just inches away, separated only by a thin pane of glass. Amy opened her mouth to scream, but it became stuck in her throat. Instead, a strange, hitching noise (
huh, huh, huh
) erupted from her chest as she quickly stepped backward. In her haste to get away, she tripped over someone’s leg and landed painfully on her backside, causing the candle stub to roll across the hard floor. The small flame nearly singed Walter’s exposed tail. Surprised, the dog yelped and shot out of his blanket nest, waking everyone up in the process.

Outside, the Runner snarled and threw itself against the window. On its second attempt, its bloodied head smashed through the splintered glass.

It began to force its way in.