The Survivor Chronicles (Book 2): The Divide (34 page)

He was sick.

Xander looked away first as he grabbed the banister and used it to help pull himself up the stairs in a limping gate that was louder and more thudding than it had been before. Peter's shoulder brushed against hers as he stepped beside her. "Is he sick?"

"I think so," she whispered.

Peter brought his fist to his chin and stared at the spot that Xander had just vacated. Mary Ellen grabbed hold of the banister and used it to propel herself up the stairs. She was intent upon talking to Xander, but only Josh was still in the kitchen when she stepped back into it.

She kept her hand wrapped around the candle flame to keep it sheltered as she moved past the glow flickering from the bathroom. Even with the curtains drawn she worried that the candle's illumination would be seen from outside. She found Bobby and Xander by the front door staring out the window.

"Anything out there?" she inquired.

Her voice was choked as she tried to ignore the growing sweat beading across Xander's brow.
Pain, he was in pain, that was all,
she told herself.
Anyone would be hurting after having their leg chomped on and torn at.

"Nothing yet," Bobby answered.

"Let me take a look at your leg," she said.

Xander gave her a wan smile as he leaned against the door. Bobby's eyes narrowed on him before he glanced at Mary Ellen. "It's not going to look any better now than it did before," Xander informed her.

"I bet it's not, but we should probably clean and rewrap it. We don't want it to get infected."

Xander looked like he was about to protest but Bobby was now staring at him with a crestfallen look that made Mary Ellen feel like crying. Xander hobbled over to the couch and slid onto the cushions. The old fashioned blue couch didn't look at all comfortable to sit on as Xander leaned back and propped his leg on the glass topped coffee table.

"Why don't you see if there are some medical supplies in the bathroom? There could be some better stuff than what we have," she suggested to Bobby, hoping to give him something that would ease the, 'I'm losing my best friend,' look from his face.

Mary Ellen placed her knife down and sat on the coffee table across from Xander. Peter brought forth another candle and placed it on the ground beside her as he put the bag of supplies they had brought in on the table. Mary Ellen gingerly touched the bandages before tugging the tape free and pulling the cloth from his leg. Xander's hands clenched on the cushion of the couch but he didn't protest as the last of the cloth fell away to reveal the pulverized meat look of his leg.

It took everything she had not to gag and she honestly didn't know how he was still walking on that leg. Bobby reappeared with some real bandages and more antibiotic cream. The color slid from his face and his eyes darted away from the damaged leg. "Ugly huh?" Xander asked.

The sweat over his upper lip and brow was more pronounced as it slid down his face and soaked the top of his shirt. "Not as ugly as you," Bobby retorted as he placed the peroxide on the table and forced a smile.

Mary Ellen took care as she cleaned the angry, throbbing wound. Heat, like a furnace, poured from Xander's skin. Puss and fresh blood oozed from the places where the tender scabs broke. The uninjured skin around it was becoming redder but she couldn't tell if it was from the infection and bandages, or if the rash was the beginning of something far worse. She ignored it though as she gingerly wrapped the wound back up and rested her hands on either side of his leg.

"It will be fine, but we're going to have to keep a closer eye on it," she assured him.

"I'm sure it will be," he told her with a gritted smile that just barely revealed his teeth.

"The others all got sick quickly. It's been twelve hours Xander, I'm sure you're passed the threshold," Bobby said.

Mary Ellen didn't have to touch Xander's forehead to know that he had a fever. What she didn't know was if it was from the sickness or if the infection was spreading through his system. "I'm sure you're right Bobby," Xander told him, though his gaze didn't leave Mary Ellen's. There was determination in his hazel eyes, but there was also something more, an understanding that passed between the two of them, a knowledge of the uncertainty to come.

Peter handed her the antibiotics and she passed them to Xander. "We should gather more supplies," Peter said. "And bring the mattresses down. You should probably stay off of that leg."

Xander finally looked away from her to Peter. "I will."

Peter nodded. "Let's go then."

Mary Ellen didn't move as she kept her hands on Xander's leg. "I'll stay here and keep watch," she said.

Peter frowned before shrugging and turning away. "You should probably go help them," Xander said when they disappeared upstairs.

She stared at the empty stairway before turning to him. "So you can leave?"

He didn't even pretend to deny it. "I could kill you."

"It's a possibility, but it's almost a guarantee you'll die if you go out there in this condition,
alone
. Besides your leg is infected and that
is
going to make you feverish and sick."

"It would be for the best if I left."

"Not for you and not for us. Bobby will never forgive you, Riley…"

"I could kill Riley, if they come here. I could kill her, or Bobby, or
you
."

"I won't let that happen."

"And what are you going to do to stop me?"

She took a deep breath as her heart knocked against her ribs. She tried to look away from him but she found his forthright gaze impossible to break. "If it's not an infection, if it is that ah… other sickness, I'll kill you myself."

Xander quirked an eyebrow. "You think you could do that?"

She wouldn't have been so certain yesterday, but she was now. She would kill him herself rather than see him walk out the door like she knew he intended. She would kill him rather than give him the opportunity to attack anyone else. "Yes."

His hands eased on the cushion as he sank back on the couch. "Ok, make sure you do."

She lifted her knife and placed it in her lap as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Her fingers tightened on the knife as he exposed the tender skin of his throat.

CHAPTER 27

Riley

Somewhere in Mass.

Something scurried through the shadows as she stepped closer to Carl, Al and John to make the circle they'd formed even tighter. Al pressed against her side as a scraping sound on their right turned them in that direction, only Carl turned to the left. Riley realized too late that was probably where the attack was going to come from but even as she corrected herself and spun to the left, she knew she was wrong.

The hair on her neck stood on end, a breeze filtered over her chilled skin but this breeze wasn't drifting through the boards.

She'd experienced earthquakes, the loss of her friends, lava, collapsing buildings, and killing two men, but nothing had made her heart almost stop as much as the realization that coursed through her bloodstream. She was shaking, but she wasn't actually moving. This shaking was in her bones as she could swear she heard them rattling like a handful of dice.

She couldn't bring herself to look as another small breeze drifted over her. Carl turned toward her and over the top of John's head she saw the realization that dawned in his gray eyes as they latched onto hers. The shaking inside her increased, but instead of staying in her bones it moved out to her fingers and caused her arm to twitch as she tried to keep her hand steady.

Carl was the first one to look away as his head tilted back and his eyes slid up to the metal hooks above them. Her other arm was shaking now; her knees trembled as her heart beat a strange rhythm she never would have thought the organ could withstand without exploding. She was so cold, it had been one of the hottest and most humid days she'd ever endured and yet she was as cold as if she were standing in the middle of the arctic with nothing on but her underwear.

That breeze, there it was again, and this time she couldn't deny it, couldn't pretend that it wasn't coming from above her as she tilted her head back. Though she'd known what was there it was still a kick in the gut to
see
it, one that robbed her of her breath as she came eye to eye with the creature suspended above her.

Not a creature, a
human
, but there was little left that was human about it as it hung over her.

Its split and bloody lips skimmed back to reveal broken teeth and black gums. Its hands and feet were wrapped around one of the hooks as it eyed her from faded brown eyes that were surrounded by whites the color of faded paper. The tip of his nose was missing and an entire chunk of the right side of his face was gone. The curve of his cheekbone was clearly visible beneath the blood and muscle.

There were corpses left to rot in the desert for a week that looked better than this guy and yet he was still moving, still focused on turning her into his dinner.

A strange noise escaped him that broke her out of her frozen state. She took a startled step back, her hand jerked up at the same time a gunshot exploded through the cavernous structure. The man was already leaping off of the hook before Carl fired though.

His filthy fingers were curved into talons aimed at her face but he never had a chance to tear the skin from her as John swung the hand holding his gun up and caught the man in the face with the weapon. The thud of metal on bone resonated through the building as the man released an inarticulate noise that reminded her much more of an animal than a human.

Teeth sprayed out from his battered mouth as he was knocked backwards and sprawled onto the floor. Like a turtle, his arms and legs kicked until he was finally able to turn onto his front side. He was about to leap to his feet when another shot sounded and the back of his skull exploded.

Riley took a stumbling step back as Al met her gaze before swinging his gun toward the ceiling. Gathering her scattered wits, she lifted her gun and examined the gloomy recesses above her. There was no one else hanging upside down like a bat from the chains but she knew they were there, skulking through the shadows like rats.

Something skittered to her right but she didn't jerk in that direction as she suspected it was just another diversionary tactic. Her eyes went back to the rafters but they remained blessedly clear as the thumping at the front door began to increase in intensity. She had to fight the urge to scream as the tension in her body started to spike to epic levels. She didn't think she could take much more of this as she fought the urge to just start firing in an attempt to scare them off. However, it wouldn't scare them off. In fact, the only thing it would accomplish was emptying her gun of bullets and leaving them even more vulnerable to the impending attack.

John's breathing was harsh as he stepped closer to her and Al. Carl moved in a small circle around them as he searched the shadows. She and John both jumped as something else skittered through the dark toward the front door and the truck. Rochelle remained silent though and no breaking glass or twisting metal followed the shadow.

"I really hate these things," John hissed.

Riley agreed one thousand percent but she remained silent as she strained to hear any new threat. "Move toward the truck," Carl instructed.

They shuffled toward the back of the truck in order to get a better view of it and Rochelle. John was about to step next to it when Riley seized hold of his arm. She pulled him back a step and pointed toward the undercarriage of the truck. She didn't know why, but she was suddenly certain that at least one of them was under there.

Carl stuck out his hand to John. "Flashlight," he breathed.

John tugged his shirt up and pulled the flashlight tucked into his waistband free. Carl took it from him and clicked it on. Shadows danced and swayed over the taut lines in his face as he took a deep breath and then cautiously bent down. His head tilted to the side as he tried to peer under the truck but though the beam lit the undercarriage, none of them were able to see what it might reveal.

Carl hesitated before dropping his knees to the ground. Riley held her breath as she was convinced something was going to shoot out of there like a frog tongue and smack him in the face. It was impossible, she knew that, they were still human beings they were dealing with and there was no way they could have a tongue like a frog's.

However, she'd also been convinced that there was no possible way someone would try to eat her one day either, and that had been proven wrong. For all she knew this was some kind of virus or bacteria that caused severe mutations within human cells and DNA. Mutations that could make them have tongues like a frog's or perhaps even sprout wings and fly.

They may be dealing with some form of radiation, but she really doubted that one. They'd all be sick if it was radiation, she was certain of that. Not everyone caught the same cold or flu, but
no
one escaped radiation. If it had taken Lee down then it would have taken the rest of them down too. Still, she couldn't shake the frog tongue from her mind as Carl's cheek almost rested on the floor and he peered under the truck.

She caught a brief shadow before something burst out from under the truck and fled into the dark corners of the building with the speed of a cockroach. John shuddered and Riley stepped closer to him and Al. Carl's hand shook for a second before he pushed himself back into a crouched position and rose up.

The beam played over the walls but it did little to ease the anxiety pulsing through Riley as it took all she had to remain calm. The front doors banged again as something splintered somewhere. John hissed out a low curse and Carl moved closer to them. Al adjusted his gun into a better position for his damaged hand.

Riley tried to discern how many strange people were out there, or inside, but the wind was howling and the noise at the front door was becoming increasingly distracting.
Breathe
, she told herself,
just breathe
. It did her little good but at least her finger eased on the trigger and she didn't feel like running screaming into the darkness anymore.