After The Virus (5 page)

“They figured out how to stave off death.”
 

“What?” He couldn’t get his jaw up. “Jesus. Not a cure, though?”
 

“No,” she replied, “But the blood of the immune can sustain them indefinitely.”

He was reeling, working it out. “But the virus burns through the body’s resources, like consuming the Infected from the inside out.”

“Large doses of blood,” she added. “It sustains them, but the virus symptoms are still present, so they’re sick, but fast, strong, angry —”

“And in need of our blood,” Will whispered. He glanced at Snickers, who was now sucking her thumb. “Living, breathing monsters. Nice.”

“Rebuild Humanity keeps them as pets,” she added casually. Nevertheless, she could feel the questions he didn’t ask practically burning her.

He settled on, “You lost someone?”

“With 99.9 percent of the worldwide population wiped out, we all lost,” Rhiannon countered, but Will just shrugged. Then there’d been no one special for him, before. She could say the same and they could bond over never truly being loved, but she didn’t.

∞

That night, the terrors started. Rhiannon was trapped in utter darkness with one of them, the Infected, its putrid snot dripping on her face right before it —

She woke, hoping she hadn’t screamed.

CHAPTER TEN

WILL

He thought he heard Rhiannon scream, but as he continued to try to sense her through the multiple walls that separated them, Will got nothing. He’d been awake all night, his brain too full to turn off, not a problem he ever had in the past. He’d watched her, collecting clues:
perfect table manners… hesitation with the dishwashing...
She wasn’t used to this life. Again, it had nagged him, that feeling that he knew her. He wondered if she was going to stay. He wondered if it came to it, whether or not he’d ask her to.
For himself? Or Snickers?
 

He was pretty sure Snickers should be talking by now. He was starting to think maybe she was mute; maybe he shouldn’t have given her the gun, but he couldn’t start second guessing, not even with Rhiannon’s doubt. He thought of the Fleetwood Mac song and wondered if he could still play it. Not that he’d picked up a guitar since college.

Movement at the door distracted him and he turned his head expecting Snickers but, traitorously, hoping for Rhiannon. It was Snickers, sans gun. He patted the bed beside him and she, dragging all her bedding, climbed up
. Maybe one of her parents might have been part Asian?

Now, with Snickers awake, he was pretty sure Rhiannon must have screamed, because it’d been days since the child had needed to crawl in with him.

Snickers stared at him with her almond-colored cat eyes, and as he always did, not knowing what she needed, he just let her look. She raised her hand to suck on her thumb and he pulled it away gently with a smirk. She smiled at this; their habitual, familiar behavior.

He heard more movement at the door as Rhiannon and B.B. silently slipped in. They curled into bed with Snickers wedged in the middle.

Snickers curled her hand in the hair at the side of Will’s neck, and he realized how long it was getting. B.B. sighed as only a satisfied dog can.

He was glad he’d claimed the master bedroom with its king-sized bed. The responsibility had scared him at first, but now Rhiannon was here. Smiling, as he closed his eyes to finally sleep, he thought maybe he could see the first glimmer of dawn at the edges of the blinds.

∞

He later thought it was the worst damn idea he’d ever had, and he’d done many stupid things. Taking the girls with him; beyond stupidity.

A road trip, he’d suggested. The girls glowed with excitement, and he’d felt so damn satisfied. Only four hours south, they‘d be back before dark.

He’d been systematically collecting supplies from the surrounding towns, to restock the store, hotel, and houses. He didn’t know why.

He hadn’t ventured this far since he acquired Snickers, but he thought it would be fun and get Rhiannon out for the first time in weeks.

They’d relaxed into a rhythm, but he had noticed the strawberry plant in her bedroom. Even with room in the garden, she hadn’t planted it.

∞

Rhiannon saw the gun shop as soon they entered town, and in minutes, the bullet belt was around Snickers’ waist. So the gun idea was okay now. Will attempted to be pleased rather than smug.

Rhiannon went clothes hunting. Snickers stuck with him. He hoped to add rarities to the hotel library, but prioritized medical supplies.
 

He left Snickers by the magazines, she liked the pictures, and went to box as much antibiotics, painkillers, and whatever else he could carry.

He hadn’t realized that B.B. was with him until she started to growl a deep warning, just as his hand reached for the box of condoms.

“Hey, it’s not like that.” He started to back away. Then he saw the hulking shadow by the window.
Jesus H. Christ, what the hell was that?

B.B. couldn’t get lower to the ground and still move, and she was scaring the hell out of him with her noises. He set his box down.
 

He suddenly had a terrible feeling he was about to come face to face with Rhiannon’s and B.B.’s past.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

RHIANNON

She didn’t know at the time what the fuck she’d ever do with the grenades, but she took them anyway. She also scored a cool MEC backpack. She remembered her hair had almost been that orange, same as the pack, in her first starring role
 —
kicking vampire ass with great dialogue — still one of her favorites.
The side pocket was perfect for grenades, and the water bottle holder adapted nicely to a shotgun. She took as much ammo as she could carry.

The bullet belt was too big for Snickers, but Rhiannon punched another hole with her Swiss Army knife. She’d always had to be easily adaptable.

Currently, she was appalled at the plethora of pink in the girls clothing section; maybe Snickers would prefer boys’ browns and blues? She grabbed and stuffed; she’d never been much of a shopper even when it had been expected, with her millions and all that. She got winter stuff too, in case it got picked over.

It was at that moment she realized she was planning to stay.

Was such domestic happiness even possible?
She’d stopped dreaming of such; young, around the time she’d torn the horse photos off her walls. Around the time her childhood had been forcefully, or perhaps sneakily, stolen from her. Around the time she’d learned that no one, no matter their title or blood tie, would step up to protect her; even when she asked for help. She guessed she’d been just a little older than Snickers currently was —
 

She heard the chains dragging on the concrete sidewalks before she saw them. Asked earlier, she would have thought she’d freeze in fear, but she didn’t.

It was him: Shotgun-Fucking-Asshole, though he was missing an ear now. She was going to fucking blow his head off, right through the store window.

Then, like a cold shower, she thought of Snickers.
Had she and Will moved from the drug store?
Still hidden, Rhiannon spied through the window.

The Ford was still parked by the gun shop. She couldn’t see anything through the Drug Mart windows.
Fuck
.

And where the fuck was B.B.?
 

She left the clothing box by the front door, because she’d fucking be back for it, and then slipped into the back alley.

CHAPTER TWELVE

WILL

He didn’t have a leash, so he tied a tensor bandage around B.B.’s collar. Together, they silently shifted until they had eyes on Snickers.

She seemed to be scrutinizing a Vanity Fair cover. Then, coming to some sort of decision, she turned as if to bring him the magazine. She’d only taken a step when she spotted him and B.B. partway down the aisle. Chocolate was smeared across one of her cheeks.

Then the army-jacketed guy grabbed her, twisting her into a football tuck as he ripped the magazine from her little hands.

B.B. didn’t even twitch when Will changed his mind about the tensor leash: all her muscle was honed on her prey.

“Who’s this, kid? Who’s the pretty on the cover?” Army cajoled. Then he slammed Snickers on his shoulder to knock the breath and fight out of her.

B.B. took him out at the knees before Army saw what hit him.

Will caught Snickers before she hit the linoleum face first, then still managed to stop Army from bludgeoning B.B. with his gun.

Snickers wasn’t happy to be placed to the side, and Will heard her pump the shotgun a split second before she got it in Army’s snarling face. He yanked the barrel up and to the side as Snickers pulled the trigger, and the redirected shot took out an entire window with spray.

Army’s body slammed into Will’s chest and knocked him back. He wrenched the shotgun from Snickers’ hands as he fell, and then lost it underneath the shelves.

They wrestled, their footing insecure in the fallen magazines. If not for B.B. clamped to Army‘s leg, he’d be seriously outmatched. At the edge of his vision, he could see Snickers burrowing under the shelving to retrieve her gun.

Rhiannon burst through the back door like some avenging angel. Her entrance seriously distracted Army. ‘Course, Will felt that way every time her saw her, so it didn’t come as a surprise to him.

He grabbed Snickers and rolled as Rhiannon spun to crack the side of Army’s skull with the butt of her gun.

Snickers scrambled from his arms to stare down at Army, who was out cold but breathing. B.B.’s lingering snarls summed up Will’s own feelings nicely.

“Move, Will,” Rhiannon urged as she wrapped her hand around B.B.’s collar and pulled the dog away. ”There’s no way they’d miss shotgun fire.”

“They?” he groaned as he got up and followed Rhiannon out the alley door.

“Two more, and one of — them — the Infected,” she warned as she soothingly smoothed Snickers' hair, then gave the child her secondary gun.

“We get to the truck and go,” he firmly stated, but Rhiannon just smiled, almost sweetly. “No, Rhiannon. Not with Snickers here.”

That momentarily stalled Rhiannon, but they didn’t have time for another plan before they heard footsteps, crunching glass, and loud cursing coming from inside the drugstore.

“Rhiannon,” he ordered, “you take Snickers and hide, somewhere with a big, locked door between you and them. I’ll lead them out of town.”

“Oh, yeah? Hide the useless females?” Rhiannon growled, but he cut her off.

“No. You don’t hesitate or compromise. You’re the gunslinger here.”

She wasn’t that easily convinced.

”I need you to do this Rhiannon. Snickers will be safe with you.”

So she scooped Snickers up and was gone.

She left. Just like that.
No goodbye. Christ, get your head in the game! You begged. She did.
So, heart in his throat, Will turned back into the store.

∞

He almost made it to the truck before he saw It: the Infected. It was lumbering up the far sidewalk toward him. It sniffed the air in his direction and then bellowed.

He was happy he hadn’t eaten, because despite frozen limbs, he was pretty sure he could and would throw up.

It dragged two broken chains.

Two guys, one missing an ear, sprinted from around the side of the drug store after it. They shouted and actually gestured at him to flee.

He did.

Why didn’t he just climb in the Ford and drive off? Because he was an absolute, goddamn, going-to-hell idiot.

He ran; It was faster.

It didn’t care he used to be an All-Star quarterback.

It didn’t care track and field had been his yearly charity gig.

It. Wanted. His. Blood.

He didn’t know the town footprint. He made a wrong turn, but was actually able to leap the fence that blocked his way. The Infected just tore through.

Then It had him pinned.

He noted, as he was choke-pressed against a brick building that he thought might have been the bank, that It still had a couple of fence boards on its arm.

It bit his shoulder.

He screamed. He couldn’t help it.

Then they were there, yanking at its chains. The one-eared guy cursed up a firestorm, but Will couldn’t hear him for the pain of being eaten alive.

Seeing the missing ear triggered his deadened brain. He fumbled for his knife, conveniently strapped to his thigh in homage to Rhiannon, and thrust it in the Infected’s ear. The blade slid in easier than he’d expected, and the force of the blow dented the side of its head.

It didn’t like that, but It did drop him.

“Don’t kill it,” One Ear yelled, and proved he was insane.

The Infected cat-batted the jutting knife and got it loose along with a chunk of its brain. The mushed brain matter squelched under the knife as it hit the ground. They all, including It, just stared dumbfounded at the goopy pile.
 

The pain in his shoulder focused Will quicker than the others. He got the chain looped around the Infecteds neck seconds before its blood lust awoke.

It thrashed.

He had to climb onto its back to keep the chain tight, but he soon figured out that cutting off its airway had little effect.

One Ear got its attention with a blood transfusion bag.

His buddy grabbed for the chain.

It slathered the blood.

They got it, minimally, controlled.

Soon as he stepped back, One Ear had a gun to his head.

“Hurting our pal back there was unnecessary. We only have questions.”

“Army attacked. I responded,” Will grimaced. He glanced at the burning brand that was his shoulder. It wasn’t as mangled as it felt.

“Bite won’t infect you, doesn’t work like that, case you cared,” One Ear said, as apologetic as someone could be with a gun to your head.

“Doesn’t mean it won’t kill me.” He made a sympathy play, but there was little to be had.

“Drug Mart looked well stocked. But before you patch yourself up, like I said, we got questions. Answer nice and we won’t let our friend here have another taste,” One Ear said.