Kick at the Darkness (23 page)

Adam, who’d kissed him like he couldn’t get enough.

Alone on the asphalt under the rising moon, endless miles from home, Parker gave in and sobbed.

“I have to do something.”

His voice was hoarse—his throat unbearably dry and scratchy. Parker shivered and fought down a fresh wave of tears
. Get it together. Get up!

But he didn’t. He sat on the road, his legs folded beneath him and cramped. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. He was a snotty mess, and his head pounded. He couldn’t seem to move as he stared into the shadows of the desert. He could have been on the surface of the moon. He wanted to curl up and disappear.

He’d never been so wholly and utterly alone in his life.

With a grunt, Parker staggered to his feet. “Okay. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Adam’s fine. He’s going to be here any minute. He’s coming.”

But when Parker squinted into the distance, there was only the empty highway and the night.

He breathed in and out the way Adam would, counting to ten. “Water. Drink some water.”

He rummaged in the pack and was relieved that the bottle was still half full. He gulped and coughed, and forced himself to slow down and save some for later just in case. Swiping impatiently at his wet eyes, he took stock. He still had the machete, but no holster for it. After a few moments of debate, he carefully packed the weapon in the backpack, leaving enough room at the top for the handle to stick out. It would have to do, and hopefully he wouldn’t slice up the few belongings he still had.

After straddling Mariah, he sat and closed his eyes for another moment. “Okay. I’m going back, and Adam will meet me halfway. He’s fine. He’s not dead. He’s not one of them.” He turned the key.
One step at a time
.

Given how straight and flat the road was beneath the stars and moon, he didn’t need the headlight. Mariah thrummed under him, and Parker took a deep breath. He’d find Adam. He accelerated. As he drove back the way he’d come, the road still his, he tried not to think of what he’d do if Adam wasn’t okay. Because Adam was okay. Adam had to be. Then a thought hit him.
Shit. Gas
.

Without the lights on, Parker couldn’t see the indicator, so he rolled to a stop. Peering into the distance, he could barely see what might be the halo of light of the motel’s sign, but what could have just been a particularly bright star on the horizon. He had to take the chance. He flicked on the lights and checked the gauge before turning them off again. Half a tank. Should be enough to get them to a safe gas station.

Because Adam was still alive. Yes. Adam was just fine.

A flicker of movement caught Parker’s eye. His breath stuck in his throat, and he squinted down the road, turning off the bike to listen. There was only the whistle of the wind across the flat land. His heart pounded in his ears, but then he realized it was getting louder.

Thump, thump, thump, thump
.

Adrenaline ricocheted through him. There was definitely someone—or something—coming his way. He yanked out the machete and held it in a trembling hand. It had to be Adam. It couldn’t be the infected. Right?

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

“Parker!”

His name was a whisper on the wind, still far away. But then a figure came into focus, running so fast that it was only a few seconds before he could make out Adam’s familiar silhouette, right down to the leather jacket and jeans, his boots pounding the road. Parker leapt off the bike, and his feet were moving. He dropped the machete with a distant clatter, running now. If he was losing his mind, he was going with it, because Adam was getting closer and closer with each heartbeat, and his eyes were glowing golden, and they weren’t bugging out, because
he was still him
.

With a half laugh and sob, Parker threw himself into Adam’s arms. Adam lifted him off his feet, and Parker wanted to whoop for joy. He breathed him in and ran his hands over Adam’s back and shoulders. “Are you real? Are you here?”

“I’m here.” Adam’s voice was muffled where he buried his face in Parker’s neck. When he lifted his head, he put Parker back down and ran his hands over him. “Are you hurt?”

“No. Not really.” He clutched him. “God, don’t ever…just don’t.” He swallowed hard. “I was so afraid you were gone.”

“So was I.” Adam gently brushed away the fresh tears from Parker’s cheeks. “I don’t know why I wasn’t infected. I must be immune.”

“Because you’re a big, bad wolf.”

Adam laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound Parker had ever heard. They pressed their foreheads together, and Parker breathed him in, all leather and earth and
Adam
.

“That must be why—it doesn’t affect you since you’re a werewolf. But you were gone for so long.”

“I had to heal, and I had to be sure I wouldn’t change. It might have just been delayed. We saw with Carey it happens in minutes with humans.” He leaned back and gripped Parker’s shoulders. “You have to promise me that you’ll take Mariah and go if I have a delayed reaction. Promise.”

“You won’t. I know you won’t.”

“We don’t know anything. The thought that I could hurt you—
kill you
—it’s…just promise me.”

“Okay. I promise.” He wrapped his arms around Adam’s waist, keeping him close. He didn’t think he would be able to stop touching him for hours. “What happened after I left?”

“I killed a lot of them. Figured I could take out as many as I could before I changed. I turned off the generator. The others started drifting back toward the town once the light was gone. It seems like unless you’re close to them, they get easily distracted and don’t really have a memory.” He pulled something from his pocket. “Thought you might want this.”

It was the machete holster, all wadded up. “Thanks.” Parker bit his lip, tears threatening again.
Get. It. Together
. “When I opened the door and they saw me…” He shuddered. “It was so fast. They seemed to come faster, didn’t they?”

Adam nodded. “I think they’re getting hungrier. It makes sense. The more the infection spreads…”

“The fewer of us there are to eat.” What a cheery fucking thought. “It’s only going to get harder.”

“Yes. But we’ll make it. I’ll be more vigilant. It’s my fault. I let myself relax in that bed. With the A/C on I didn’t hear them. I should have smelled them. I’m sorry. I’ll be better.”

“Don’t be sorry! We’re doing our best. You’ve done so much. You were exhausted. You still saved me.”

Adam ran his thumb over Parker’s lips. “I was afraid I wouldn’t find you.”

“I’m so glad you’re here. You…I…” Parker couldn’t find the words, and kissed him instead.

For a glorious moment, their lips pressed together. It was only a simple kiss, but as they clung to each other, it was everything Parker had prayed for.

Then Adam yanked away. Parker blinked, reaching for him. “What?”

But Adam staggered back out of reach. “What if I’m immune, but I’m carrying the virus?”

The bottom of Parker’s stomach dropped. “I don’t…” He shook his head. “Do you think that’s possible? No. I’m sure it’s fine.” Parker reached for him again, but Adam dodged him.

“We don’t know that.”

“Well, we don’t really know anything.”

“Exactly. We can’t take the chance. We know it isn’t transmitted through the air, or at least we don’t think so.”

“Right. With Carey it was a bite. So you won’t bite me—problem solved.”

“What if it’s like a sexually transmitted disease?”

“Then we’ll find condoms.” Parker reached out again, but Adam stayed away from his grasp.

“We can’t risk it. We can’t risk anything. I could pass it to you through saliva. Any bodily fluid.”

“But…” Parker dropped his hand.

“We should get moving.” Not looking at him, Adam headed toward Mariah.

Parker knew Adam was right, but that didn’t soothe the ache growing in his chest.

PARKER REACHED OUT with his gloved hand, but there was only hard ground beside him. He’d barely woken, and already the day was off to a shitty start. When he opened his eyes, he could see the splash of orange through the trees as the sun rose. Adam stood nearby with his back turned.

They’d camped, sleeping on pine needles, well off the road where the trees grew so thickly they had to walk the bike and duck branches. Parker stretched his stiff muscles. Jesus Christ, it was freezing, and he was wearing pretty much all the clothes he had in bulky layers. The Rockies in October were not his idea of primo camping season.

It had been extremely slow going in Colorado as they took the long way over the mountains. Tunnels on the interstate were too much of a risk in case they became trapped with the infected, so they zigzagged their way onward. They spent a lot of time scrounging for gas, which was a constant worry.

With a little groan, Parker pushed himself to his feet. After a moment of debate, he cautiously approached Adam. He knew Adam could hear him coming, and maybe… But the second he reached out, Adam wrenched away from him. Parker bit back the disappointment and hurt, and tried to keep his voice light. “Hey. Sleep okay?”

“Yeah. You?” Adam didn’t look at him as he crouched down to rummage in the pack and unfold their map.

“Sure.”

It had been two weeks since that night in Nevada. While they’d always huddled together before, now Adam slept with his back to Parker, just an edge of the thermal blanket over him. Sometimes Parker would inch closer, but it was as if Adam had a proximity alarm, and he always kept a space between them.

Parker cleared his throat. “So, how much farther until we’re down the mountains?”

“Could be a few more days. Once we’re in the Midwest we should be able to make better time.”

“Cool. How are you feeling?”

Adam kept his eyes on the map. “Fine.”

“Good. Still no virus, I see.”

With a sigh, Adam refolded the map. “Parker, we talked about this.”

“I know, but seriously, you’re overreacting. You’re paranoid.”

“What if I’m not? It isn’t worth it.”

“But it’s been weeks. Even if you were carrying it, wouldn’t it be dead by now?”

“Typhoid Mary carried the disease for decades. There are HIV carriers who are asymptomatic for years.”

Super
. “Okay, so maybe we can’t fuck, but…”
But can’t you at least look at me?
He’d felt closer to Adam than he ever had to another person, yet now this chasm had cracked open between them. They hadn’t kissed. Had barely touched—even a brush of fingers was rare now.

“But what?” Adam’s nostrils flared. “If you got infected, you’d be gone in minutes.” He shoved the map in the pack. “Let’s get moving.”

They packed up in silence and wheeled Mariah to the road. Parker climbed on and wrapped his arms around Adam. This was the only time he was allowed now, and he’d take what he could get.

“The Pines.” Parker read the sign at the foot of the driveway. The sign was expertly crafted from wood and beveled glass, and from the back of the bike he leaned closer and ran his fingers over the smooth, wet grain. “This could be nice.”

They’d followed a paved lane off the main road early one gray morning as a steady rain turned to sleet. They’d driven through part of the night since the temperature had dipped even more, and it was too cold to sleep outside. They were almost on the other side of the Rockies now, and hadn’t seen any infected—or anyone else—in days. The possibility of a comfortable place to rest was hard to pass up, especially as the roads got messy. “It sounds like it has beds. Maybe a shower if there’s enough water pressure left. God, I need a shower.”

Adam was staring intently down the driveway, where manicured trees loomed. “There are people here.”

“Shit. I guess we should go. I was really looking forward to not stinking for a few hours at least.” Sleet dripped off his hood into Parker’s eyes, and he swiped at it, shivering. Adam was soaked, but it didn’t seem to bother him as much.

“There’s someone coming.” Adam vibrated with tension.