Surge (117 page)

It’s when he starts sobbing on her chest, that I move to pull him off of her. I won’t have her body being touched by this bastard. He’s done more than enough already, and if he hadn’t fucked with her in the first place, she wouldn’t be dead right now. She’d be happy with Travis and their baby. The same ones she killed herself to be reunited with.

I don’t even have the strength to stand up, so I just crawl my way over. He’s about five feet away, but my head’s aimed down at the floor as I work my way over. There’s broken glass everywhere, and bullet casings littered across the floor that I’m trying to avoid, so my attention is completely focused on that. And that’s probably why I don’t see the movement in front of me, until I hear a voice.

“Even the most loyal of dogs, can turn on their masters.”

At first, I think it’s a figment of my imagination. I mean, I just watched my Tomb Raider give into the pain, and slit her wrists; so there’s no reason for me to be hearing her voice. I’m cursing my asshole of a brain for playing such a cruel joke on me, but my foolish eyes look up hopefully anyway, to see my dream girl hacking away at Cole’s chest. Nope, that definitely isn’t happening, because my Tomb Raider would have made him suffer, and dragged his death out. Not just stab away without aim. Imaginary Olivia’s knife is even hitting the floor beside Cole, and her accuracy is always spot on when it comes to anything but a gun, so that’s how I know that this is fake.

“Are you just gonna sit there, or are you gonna go and claim your girl?” John asks. I glance left and see his body intact, no bullet holes in his head. Yup, definitely a dream, since I just saw him get his head blown to smithereens; so his ghost can fuck off. I decide to tell him so.

“Fuck off, ghost of Christmas Past,” I tell it. “I’ve had enough of you in life, I don’t need you haunting me in the hereafter.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” John’s ghost asks.

“You, ghost boy. Fly away home, and while you’re at it, take imaginary Olivia with you too. All of you can fuck off, and leave me to die in peace.”

“Who the fuck’s dying?” Ghost John demands. I point at my stomach.

“Me,” I tell him. “I’m dying, and in my delusional state, I’m seeing ghosts. Go on and head up without me, I’m pretty sure I’m going to hell anyway.”

“You aren’t dying, you stupid fucker,” John says.

“Am too,” I counter and pull my shirt up so that he can get a better look at my mortal wound. “See.” I point to the still bleeding knife wound in my abdomen. “Tim, the fuckhead, succeeded in delivering the killing blow before kicking the bucket himself.”

“Jesus H. Christ!” Cory’s voice shouts. “Not another one of his fucking episodes.” My eyes look to the right, and I see him stomp over. Crouching down, he grips my shoulders and shakes me.

“Quit it, dead Cory.”

“Hey, Jared,” Cory says, completely ignoring my order to quit shaking me.

“What?”

“Do you remember a few weeks back when we had this discussion where you thought you were
‘gonna go ape shit in the mother fucka’
?” I nod. “It’s another one of those.” I pause to take account of my current state. Rapid breathing? Check. Racing thoughts? Definite check. Panic? Fuck yes. Heart ripped out of my fucking chest? Pretty sure I saw that bastard do a gloating jig in front of me. It’s a possibility, but I won’t give it credence yet.

“So, no ghost boy for Jon Jon?” I ask Cory, since he’s the only one I trust to tell it to me straight. John would lie to reassure me of something, and I’m sure his ghost would do the same.

“No ghost boy for John,” Cory confirms. I point at my stab wound.

“What about this?” Cory laughs and pokes it. Asshole, that fucking hurt.

“That, my dear, crazy friend, is nothing but a flesh wound. Good thing you’ve been eating Olivia’s cooking, because those extra pounds gave you a little cushion.” I look at my defined abs, and raise an eyebrow at him, to which he rolls his eyes. “You’re
fine
, Jared.”

“What about Olivia?” I whisper. If I ask it quietly enough, whatever his bad answer is, might not come true.

“Olivia’s fine,” Cory tells me, and hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “Scared the living fuck outta me, but she’s fine.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Patsy says.

My eyes snap to his, as do Cory’s. I push the latter bastard for lying to me. What the fuck, he was supposed to be the one I could trust. Patsy rolls his eyes at the two of us. “Not in that way, but I think she might have met her limit.” He jerks his chin behind us, and I notice that the others; this being Ace, Wally, the twins, Webby, Tommy and John, all looking in that direction.

Following their gazes, I find that Olivia is in fact hacking away at Cole’s dead body without true aim. I also discover the reason for her blind attack, is that she’s crying. They’re silent tears, but I can hear her rapid pants of breath. She’s having a fucking panic attack, and these assholes are all crowded around me? I shove up to my feet, which have miraculously gained strength since I’ve learned that I’m not mortally wounded. It’s the healing magic of truth at work here, folks. When I’m within reaching distance of her, I crouch down and say her name, because I don’t want her accidentally turning that knife in my direction. In her current state, I’m not confident that she wouldn’t confuse me with an attacker.

“Olivia.” She continues swiping her knife in downward strokes, so I raise my voice a little. “Olivia.” This time, her hand freezes, and her tear filled greys meet mine. I hold my hand out to her. “Let me have the knife, sweetheart, you got him.”

Olivia blinks at her hand, and looks at the bloody body beneath her, before throwing the knife down and lunging at me. I catch her tiny body and hug her close, not caring one bit about the blood covering her and transferring over to me. I’m just so fucking ecstatic that she’s here and breathing, that I could not give a shit less about anything else going on around me. My attention is completely on her, so when Olivia’s entire body is shaking, I slide my arm underneath her legs and pick her up. Sitting here isn’t doing anything for her, if anything; it’s probably making it worse.

I wave the rest of them to go ahead, but Patsy waves the matches at me. I nod at him, and he heads up the rear. Wally leads the troops out, and we pick our way through the carnage to make our escape. There’s a smashed window that Wally heads toward, before climbing out. I’m game; I don’t want to be in here any longer either. But the only person I’m releasing Olivia to on the other side is Cory. Wally’s followed by the twins, Tommy, Webby and John.

“You go first, Cory, so I can pass her out to you.” Cory nods, and moves to do so. I step forward and crouch down to pass Olivia out to him, only to have her cling to my neck like a monkey. Standing upright, I catch one of her hands locked around me, and massage her fingers. “You have to let go so I can pass you to Cory.” Olivia shakes her head and tightens her grip. “Olivia, look at me.” Without releasing her hold, she pulls her head back slightly. Her eyes dart around the room like a panicked bunny rabbit, so I catch her chin.

“Look at me,” I repeat, and her eyes finally settle on my face, but they’re no less terrified. “It’s fine, I’m just gonna pass you to Cory.” She starts snapping her head side to side rapidly, and her body picks up a full body tremble, so I hug her close and whisper in her ear. “You’re fine. They’re all gone, now we have to get out of here. You want to leave, don’t you?” Her head nods firmly. “Good, then I have to hand you out to Cory so we can go, alright?” I feel her take a deep breath, before nodding. “I’ll see you on the other side.” She pulls back and scowls at me. “That’s not how I meant it.”

“Hurry the fuck up, Jared!” John shouts. “This hell pit reeks of death.”

I kiss her forehead, before crouching down to the height of the window. When I pass her out to Cory, I notice her torn apart back exposed to the elements. The reminder of the fucker responsible for those lashings; has me turning to glare at his corpse. My head turns in that direction, to find Patsy pulling a butcher knife from Cole’s skull. When he sees me watching, he shrugs.

“What?” Patsy asks. “Haven’t you ever seen a horror flick? Evil always comes back for one last hurrah, so I decided it would be better if this prick didn’t get the chance.”

“Stick him twice, just to be positive,” I tell him. Patsy complies without a moment’s thought, causing me to grin at him. “You know, Patsy, you’ve changed my opinions on gingers.” When he scowls, I hold up my hands to stave off his affronted retort. “Not that
you’re
a ginger, since you’re
auburn
, but I’ve since decided that not all red heads are deceitful cunts. Some of them are actually kickass dudes.”

“Why thank you, Mouth,” Patsy says with a bow. “Now get the hell out, before you suffer a few more burns.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” I wave my hand at him, and crouch down to climb out the window. As soon as my feet touch the ground, I have five feet of pissed off pixie crash into me. Her fists pound my chest, while she glares at me. “What?”

Olivia’s hands fly all over the place, saying that
‘I told her I’d be right there, and I wasn’t.’
Why she’s signing out her words, instead of speaking, I don’t know. But that isn’t going to stop me from reassuring her.

“Sorry, I was just talking to Patsy,” I tell Olivia, and see her take a breath. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere, alright?”

Olivia nods, but there’s stiffness to her shoulders. Poor girl’s been through hell and back, twice, so I can’t blame her. Time heals all wounds. Yes, that was me talking about never recovering from my ash of a heart twenty minutes ago, so shut up. I know I’m a hypocrite, and I’m damn proud of it too.

“Well, you are going somewhere,” John counters, making me and Olivia look at him. “But she’ll be going too. All of us for that matter.” I check his face, because though he may be alive and seemingly uninjured, I seen a gun held to his temple, a trigger pulled, and him tip sideways.

“We’ll get back to you being a smartass in a second,” I say to John, as I pick Olivia up and start walking away from hell on earth. “How in fuck’s name aren’t you nothing more than splattered blood and grey blobs right now? I saw you get shot.”

“No, you saw me go down,” he says and points at Ace. “Crazy bastard threw himself through the goddamn window and tipped my chair. Took a bullet to the shoulder, but he saved my life.” I make a note to thank Ace as soon as possible. Same goes for the rest of the guys, since I know for a fact that we could have never done this without their help.

“How’d you get caught anyway?” I ask, and John waves at me.

“We’ll save that long story for later,” he tells me. “I’m tired, dirty, hungry….” He continues to list his ailments, surprisingly without a single suggestive comment. The weight in my arm reminds of a possible reason for him being on his best behavior, since the John I know would have listed
‘horny as fuck’
at the very top of that list. Which he’s still spouting off. “My ass hurts, my feet hurt, my eyes feel like a bucket of sand has been poured on them…”

“John, I may be glad that you’re alive, but don’t push it,” I say.

“You love me, and you know it, you sullen bastard.”

“Yes, I unfortunately do,” I agree, making John stumble a step.

I shrug as if it’s no big deal actually admitting my feelings, even if it’s quote-unquote
‘gay’
for a man to do so; but it’s worth it. Not only to see John’s shocked expression, but also when I see Olivia peek up at me with a smile. I kiss her forehead, knowing that when she’s ready for it, she’ll know just how much I care about her, too.

Patience, as you all know, was never a virtue I had prior to meeting Olivia. Since that fateful day, patience has come to be the virtue I value most. It’s gained me Olivia’s trust, the greatest gift I’ve yet to received, and is hopefully a gift that keeps on giving. After all, this is only the beginning, and I plan on spending whatever time I have left on this earth, truly living the life I’ve been given. And with any luck, the girl in my arms will be right there with me.

<~~~<~~~
~~~>~~~>

Chelsea Adams:
twenty-two year old female; member of hens and John’s harem; airhead, avid gum chewer and obsessive lip gloss applier; assistant to Whitney; was found by Cory three months before the road trip, after she left the college’s shelter; red hair, green eyes; 5’6” tall, 125 pounds; was killed by an infected Marissa