Plague Town (3 page)

As usual, Che Cafe was crowded. It had the advantage of being in the student union, the central hub of Big Red, and the food was pretty damned tasty. You could get a veggie burger or a big honkin’ buffalo burger. Pizza, decent Thai and Middle Eastern food, sandwiches, a burrito/taco bar, tofu, steamed veggies, and salads. Something for everyone.

I’d been living on miso soup, chicken broth, saltines,
and watered-down Gatorade for what seemed like forever. I caught the smell of red meat and practically started drooling. My appetite was back with a vengeance.

Finally we reached the front.

“What do you want, babe?” Matt grinned down at me, an endearingly cocky grin known to melt the panties off entire sororities. “My treat, to make up for your sucky TA.”

“Ooh, buffalo burger with double cheese. And onion rings.” I snuggled against him. He may not have been the smartest guy on campus, but Matt never failed to make me feel special.

“No wonder you got sick, eating like that.”

Oh, you have
got
to be kidding me...

I looked around and there was the douchebag himself. And in spite of myself, I confirmed that he did as much as Matt for jeans and a plain white cotton shirt. Maybe even a little bit more. He was about as tall, too.

There is no justice.

Had he been standing there the entire time? I mean, could I be that clueless? Judging from his expression, the answer to both those questions was a big old
yes
.

Ugh.

Okay, the only defense at this point was a good offense. Disengaging myself from Matt, I crossed my arms.

“What the hell do you care about what I eat?”

Gabriel smirked down at me from his superior height.

“Not a hell of a lot,” he replied, “except for the fact you’re wasting Professor Fraser’s time, and a seat in class that could belong to someone who deserves it.”

Matt bristled behind me.

“Ash, is this the douchebag?” he growled. I waved him back.

“I’ll handle this, sweetie.” This was my war.

I took a step toward Gabriel.

“Are you for real?” I demanded. “I mean, do you just wake up every morning and say ‘Today I will be an
asshole to the first innocent bystander who crosses my path’? Or did I kill your puppy or something? ’Cause I’d really like to know.”

“I just don’t like the idea that the university is wasting time trying to improve people who can’t be improved,” he countered. “Anyone who’s too stupid to live properly shouldn’t be cluttering up the system.”

“Hey, asshole...” Matt said, and I heard him step forward.

“It’s cool, babe,” I told him over my shoulder. Then I turned back to my new archenemy. “Two things,” I said. “One, class hadn’t even started yet, and you know it.” My teeth were clenched so tight I bet I could have made a diamond from a lump of coal. “The professor—the
real
one—wasn’t even there.”

“That’s not the point, now, is it?” he replied. “Class is supposed to start at eight. Professor Fraser is there to teach the students. You’re not there to teach her. So the least you can do is show her the respect of showing up on time.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I said. “I missed seeing how you stack your notes. Damn. There goes the midterm now.”

Gabriel narrowed those gorgeous blue eyes.

Stop it! I told myself.

“Two,” I continued, determined to have my say. “Did anyone tell Westborough Baptist one of their judgmental pricks is missing?”

His nostrils flared. Score.

“Why are you even taking Professor Fraser’s class?” he demanded.

“Because it sounded interesting,” I shot back. “Did I need a better reason?”

“You’re a Liberal Arts major, aren’t you?”

“And that’s supposed to mean
what
?”

“That you don’t know what you want to be when you grow up, so you’re wasting our time while you
figure it out.” He gave me a dismissive once-over. “Your slot could be occupied by someone who’s worth the time and effort.” He followed this up with a look so condescending, it was all I could do not to punch him in the face.

The fact that he might be right didn’t help.

Matt, on the other hand, felt no such restraint. Testosterone crackled and before I knew what was happening he’d stepped in front of me and straight-armed Gabriel with a hand to the chest.

“Back off, asswipe!” Matt growled.

I’m not exactly sure what happened next, but next thing I knew there was yelling, Matt was on the ground with one arm twisted up behind him, and Gabriel’s foot was braced against his back.

“You
jerk
!” I yelled. Never mind that Matt had thrown the first... er... shove.

I smacked Gabriel on the side of his head as hard as I could. He whipped around and his expression very nearly got an “I’m sorry” out of me. His pupils were dilated so they were more black than blue, and he honestly looked as though he’d kill me without a second thought. Talk about Jekyll and Hyde.

I was just stubborn enough—and hungry enough—to stand my ground. Low blood sugar is a great equalizer.

“Let go of him
now
!” I demanded. Then I prepared for the worst.

To my surprise and relief Gabriel slowly backed off, lifting his foot and releasing Matt’s arm at the same time. He moved out of the way as Matt rolled onto his back and then jumped to his feet, fists clenched. I quickly stepped in-between them just in case Matt decided to take another swing.

I needn’t have worried.

Evidently Matt’s surge of protective testosterone had faded as quickly as it’d come. What he said next floored me.

“Damn, that was
fast
!” He peered at Gabriel, and his fists uncurled. “Judo?”

Gabriel shook his head.

“Aikido.” His expression was almost sheepish. “Are you okay?”

Matt nodded.

“Just a little embarrassed,” he said. “It’s not cool being taken down in front of my girlfriend.”

“Don’t be,” Gabriel said. “It wasn’t a fair match. I’ve been training for fifteen years.”

I couldn’t resist.

“Training at what? Being a black-belt pain in the ass?”

Gabriel’s lip twitched in what might have been a smile if it’d had a chance to grow a little.

“Perhaps I owe you an apology.”

I waited.

“I’m... sorry.” The words didn’t quite stick in his throat, but they tried. “I’m working on five hours sleep over the last three days, and it’s made me short-tempered.” He faced Matt when he spoke, so I didn’t think I was meant to be the recipient of his
mea culpa
.

“Oh, dude, that sucks,” Matt said. “I did a couple of all nighters for mid-terms last year. Totally screwed with my head. I’m sorry I swung at you.”

I rolled my eyes. Enough with the male bonding already.

“Um,
Matt
?” I said, maybe a little too sharply. “Can we get some food please?”

Matt stared at me blankly for a second.

“Huh? Oh, sure.” He moved back toward the counter, paused, and then looked at me again.

“What did you want?”

The testosterone-drenched fun fest didn’t end there. Gabriel ended up sitting with us during lunch. Normally I’d be totally jazzed to be sitting with two guys that hunky—especially considering the envious stares of coeds much younger than me—but I’d had enough crap for one day. And there was something
really
irritating about how fast Matt went from protective boyfriend to total man-crush.

I stared at Gabriel and openly savored a juicy bite of my buffalo burger, but he seemed to be out of self-righteous snark for the time being.

“So you don’t eat any meat?” Matt took a big bite of his burger, oblivious to the irony of his question.

“No meat, no poultry, no dairy.”

“No fun,” I muttered, dipping an onion ring in ketchup.

“Not true,” Gabriel replied. “You’d be amazed.”

“I bet I would,” I said. “What about onion rings? There are no animal products in onion rings, are there?” I waved one at him.

“Vegan diets are free of cholesterol, and are generally low in saturated fat.” He sounded as if he were reciting from the Vegan Bible or something. “So no, no onion rings.”

I shook my head. “Like I said,” I replied, “no fun.”

Maggie made slow but steady headway toward Redwood Grove. Some instinct kept her moving in the right direction even when she left the winding road, taking a more direct path through the woods.

She fell often, the lack of connective tissue around her left knee making balance a problem. Her feet were bare and the flesh was torn, but she felt no pain, not even when she landed face first in a bush and a broken branch punctured an eyeball. It snapped off with the force of her fall, leaving Maggie with a stick jutting out of her ruined eye socket, vitreous egg-white oozing from the puncture and sliding down her cheek like thickened tears.

Inexorably pulling herself to her feet, she began moving
again. Not far away there was the sound of an automobile pulling to a stop, the engine shutting off. Maggie shifted direction abruptly, following the echoing slam of a car door. The trees thinned out, revealing a small building, carved redwood bears and other items lined up on its raised porch. Several cars were parked in front.

There were splotches of blood leading up the stairs and into the souvenir store. A stuffed bear lay in a pool of congealing gore.

Her attention focused on the oblivious young man who was fiddling with one of the gas pumps. He wore shorts, despite the chill weather, and his legs were strong and tanned.

An ululating moan emerged from Maggie’s mouth, a call of dreadful desire having nothing to do with sex. She stumbled down a small slope leading to the parking lot, sprawling full length on the gravel in her awkward rush.

“Ma’am, are you okay?”

The sound of his voice made her moan again, the sound muffled against pine needles and gravel.

“Ma’am?” Closer now. “Ma’am, are you hurt?”

She heard the crunch of his shoes on gravel.

“Jesus...” His footsteps quickened. “Don’t move, let me help you!” An arm curled around her shoulders as he tried to help Maggie to her feet.

She clutched at him with eager hands, mewling noises mixing with the moans as he lifted her.

“Jesus, we need to get you to the hospital and—” He stared into her face, punctured eyeball and all. Before he could react, she sunk her teeth into his cheek, ripping a strip of flesh from his cheekbone to his jaw line.

“Jesus
fuck
!” Screaming, the man shoved her away and back-pedaled, hand clasped to his face as blood poured between his fingers and ran down into the collar of his gray Big Red sweatshirt. Maggie staggered after him, arms lifted as if imploring him to hold her again.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” Still clutching his face, the man backed away toward his car, not taking his eyes off of her as she followed
him. He slammed into the rear passenger door and ran around the back of the car, only to catch his foot on the gas hose.

He went down hard, his skull smacking against the edge of a pump island, then lay there dazed for a minute, shaking his head. By the time he could move, Maggie had staggered around the car. She fell on him.

Before his screams had fallen silent, Maggie was joined by two other figures that shared her feast. Josh and Jason had been busy eating inside the gift shop. They were still hungry, however, and joined Maggie for a family meal.

“Ash, have you seen my exfoliating scrub?” Zara asked weakly, followed by a rattling coughing fit. My poor roomie had been bitten hard by Walker’s, but even bedridden she insisted on following her skin care regimen, come hell or high water.

I hustled into the kitchen where she was huddled in front of the open fridge, feebly digging through apples and Diet Cokes. She looked terrible, the circles under her eyes so dark her face seemed bruised, and the rest of her skin sickly pale. Her dark-brown hair hung in sweat-soaked hanks down her back, stray strands plastered to her face.

All the exfoliant in the world wasn’t going to help.

“Zara, get back into bed!” I said. Putting an arm around her shoulders, I led her back to the twin bed across from mine. “You can exfoliate later, okay?”

Zara lay down, coughed again, then smiled weakly up at me.

“You’ll find it for me, though, right?”

I held up my right hand and crossed my heart.

“By the time you’re ready for a facial, I will have unearthed your Sassy scrub from wherever it’s hiding.”

Zara heaved a sigh, as though a heavy burden had been lifted from her soul, and fell sound asleep. I felt her forehead; it was hot and clammy. She’d been really
sick for three days now, despite having gotten the flu vaccine. If she wasn’t any better tomorrow, I’d get Matt to help me drive her to see Dr. Albert.

With all the fuss about the latest flu, I’d heard that maybe, what, around six hundred people had actually died from it so far. Yeah, six hundred isn’t exactly a small number, but thousands of people die every year from the regular bug. Given the population of California—let alone the rest of the country—Walker’s didn’t seem too alarming.