Читать книгу Till The World Ends: Dawn of Eden / Thistle & Thorne / Sun Storm - Julie Kagawa, Ann Aguirre - Страница 14

Chapter Seven

My heart stood still. Ben swore quietly and turned the key again. Same result. Nothing. The engine lay still and cold and dead, and no amount of jiggling the key or pumping the gas pedal seemed to revive it.

“Dammit.” Ben jumped out of the driver’s seat and stalked to the front, opening the hood with a rusty squeak. I watched him through the window, obeying when he told me to slide into the driver’s seat and try the ignition again. We worked for nearly twenty minutes, but the old truck remained stubbornly silent.

Ben dropped the hood with a bang, his face sweaty and grim. I peeked out the driver’s side window, trying to stay calm. “No luck?”

He shook his head. “Fuses are blown, I think. That, or the battery is dead. Either way, I’m not going to be able to get it started without jumper cables and another running engine. Dammit.” He rubbed his jaw. “Looks like we’re hoofing it.”

“To Illinois?” The thought was staggering. “A fourteen-hour drive will probably take us a week or more of walking, and that’s if we don’t run into anything.”

“I don’t see any other way, do you?” Ben looked around helplessly, hands on his hips. “We’ll look for another vehicle down the road, but we can’t stay here. I know, it scares me, too. But we have to get moving.”

Daunting was the word that came to mind—hiking across a lawless, empty, plague-ridden country, where society had broken down and humans were just as likely to turn on you as help—it was a frightening thought. Especially now, with those...things out there. But Ben was right; we couldn’t stay here. We had to continue.

Ben dug an old green backpack out from under the seats, and we raided the broken vending machines again, stocking up on sweets, chips and soda, as much as the pack could carry. Hefting it to his back, slinging the gun over one shoulder, he beckoned to me, and we started down the empty road, feeling like the only two people left on Earth.

* * *

The highway continued, weaving through hills and forest, past side roads and off-ramps that led to unknown places. Occasionally, we passed cars on the road, pulled over on the shoulder, abandoned in ditches, or sometimes just stopped in the middle of the lane. Once, I thought I saw a person in one of the cars in a ditch, a woman slumped against the dashboard, and hurried over to help. But she was long dead, and so was her little boy in the backseat. Sickened, I turned away, hoping their deaths had been swift, and the images continued to haunt me the rest of the afternoon.

Ben inspected every car we came across, searching around the dashboard and glove compartments, hoping for a lucky break. But except for the dead woman’s car, none of them had keys, and hers was too damaged to use. Another, a van, seemed to be in good condition, but the tires were flat. I asked him once if we could hot-wire a vehicle into running, but neither of us had a clue how to do that. So we kept walking as the sun slid across the sky and the shadows around us lengthened.

“Here,” Ben said, handing me an open can of Sprite when we stopped for a break. I took a long swig and handed it back as he sat beside me on the guardrail. We’d been hiking uphill for what had seemed like miles, and I could feel the heat of his body against mine, our shoulders and arms lightly touching. My stomach did a weird little twirl, especially when his large hand came to rest over mine on the railing.

“I think we’re coming up on a town,” he said, after finishing off the can and tossing it into the ditch. “If we are, it might be a good idea to stop and look around for a car. And food. Real food, anyway.” He glanced at the backpack, lying open at our feet. Twinkies, Snowballs, chips and candy wrappers stood out brightly against the dull gray of the pavement. “I might slip into a sugar-induced coma if I eat one more Twinkie.”

I smiled, liking this lighter, easygoing version of Ben. Out in the sunlight, away from all the blood, death, horror and despair, things didn’t look as bleak.

I grinned at him, bumping his shoulder, just as he looked back at me. And, very suddenly, we were staring at each other on a lonely, empty road, miles from anywhere.

The late-afternoon sun slanted through the branches of the pine trees, turning his hair golden-brown, his eyes hazel. I could see rings of amber and green around the coffee-colored irises. They were beautiful, and they held my gaze, soft and tender, and a little bit afraid. As if Ben was unsure where we stood, if this was all one-sided.

My heart pounded. Ben waited, not moving, though his eyes never left mine. The ball was in my court. I licked my lips and suddenly found myself leaning toward him.

The growl of a car engine echoed, unnaturally loud in the silence, making us both jerk up. Gazing down the road, I saw a flash of metal in the sun, speeding toward us, and my heart leaped. Ben stood, grabbing the shotgun from where it lay against the railing, as a rusty brown pickup roared around the bend and skidded to a halt in a spray of gravel.

My senses prickled a warning, and I moved closer to Ben as the doors opened and three big, rough-looking guys stepped out into the road. They looked related, brothers maybe, blond and tanned, with the same watery blue eyes. I caught the stench of alcohol wafting from the cab as they sauntered to the edge of the pavement and grinned at us.

They all had guns, one rifle and a couple pistols, though no one had raised a weapon yet. My stomach clenched with dread.

“Hey there.” The closest guy, a little bigger than the other two, leered at me. His voice was lazy and drawling, and a little slurred. I saw his gaze rake over me before he turned a mean look on Ben. “You two lost? Kind of a bad spot to be stranded—never know what kind of crazies you’ll run into out here.”

The other two snickered, as if that was actually funny. Ben nodded politely, though his arms and shoulders were tense, his finger resting on the trigger of the shotgun. “We’re not lost,” he said in a cool, firm voice. “We’re just going home. Thank you for your concern.”

They hooted with laughter. “Ooh, listen to him, all dandy and proper,” one of the others mocked. “A real gentleman, he is.”

“Now, now, be nice, Bobby,” the leader said, turning to grin at the one who’d spoken. “They said they’re trying to get home, so let’s help ’em out.” He turned and smiled at me, blue eyes gleaming, as inviting as a snarling wolf. “We’ll take you home, darlin’. So why don’t you just hop in the truck, right now?”

Ben’s weapon came up instantly, as did the other three. I gasped as a trio of deadly gun barrels were suddenly trained on Ben, who had his own pointed at the leader’s chest.

Time seemed to stop, the air around us crystallizing into a silence that hovered on the edge of chaos and death. I froze, unable to move, shocked at how quickly the situation had descended into another horror film. Only the guns pointed right at us were real.

“Ben,” I whispered, placing a hand on his arm. My legs shook, and a cold, terrified sweat dripped down my spine. “Stop this. You’ll be killed.”

“Listen to your girlfriend, boy,” the leader said, smiling as he leveled the pistol at Ben’s face. “There’s three of us and only one of you. Odds ain’t in your favor.” His eyes flicked to me, and he jerked his head toward the open truck door. “Just come along quietly, missy, and make it easy on you both. Unless you want your dandy boyfriend pumped full o’ holes in about two seconds.”

“I’ll go,” I told both of them, though my eyes still pleaded with Ben. I felt sick, knowing what they wanted, what would happen to me the second I went into that truck. But I couldn’t let them shoot Ben. “Ben, don’t. Please. They’ll kill you.”

“Stay where you are.” His voice, low and steely, froze me in my tracks. He hadn’t moved through the whole encounter, and his stare never wavered from the man in front of him. “There’s three of you,” he agreed, still locking eyes with the leader. “But I can still kill one of you before the others get their shots off. And the odds aren’t in your favor, are they?” The leader stiffened, and the barrel moved with him, just enough to keep him in its sight. “Do you know what happens to a body shot point-blank with a shotgun?” Ben asked, his voice cold as ice. “You’ll have to be buried with your truck, because they’ll never get all the pieces out of it.”

“Fuck you.” The leader pulled the hammer on his pistol back, aiming it at Ben’s face. Ben stared him down over the shotgun, not moving, never wavering, while my heart hammered so hard against my ribs I thought I might pass out.

Finally, the leader slowly raised his other hand, placating. “All right,” he said in a soothing voice, and lowered his weapon. “Everyone just take it easy, now. Relax.” He shot the other two a hard look, and they reluctantly lowered their guns. “This is what we’re gonna do. Give us that pack full of stuff, and we’ll be on our way. That sound like an okay trade, boy?”

“Fine,” Ben said instantly, not lowering his weapon. “Take it and go.”

The leader, still keeping one hand in the air, jerked his head at one of the other two, who edged around the truck and snatched the bag from the ground. Ben kept his gaze and his weapon trained unwaveringly on the leader, who smirked at us and slipped back into the truck, slamming the door as the others did the same.

“Well, thank ya kindly, dandy boy.” He grinned as his friends hooted and pawed through the bag, snatching at Twinkies and cupcakes. “You two have fun, now. Run on home to mommy. It’ll be dark soon.”

The truck peeled away in a squeal of gravel, the echoes of their laughter ringing out behind them.

Ben let out a shaky breath and finally lowered the weapon. I could see his hands shaking as he leaned back against the rail, breathing hard. “Why did you do that?” I whispered, my heart slamming against my ribs. “You could’ve been killed.”

“I wasn’t going to let them take you.”

My legs were trembling. I took a shaky step toward him, and he reached out with one arm, pulling me close. I felt his heart, beating frantically through his shirt, and wrapped my arms around his waist, clinging to him as fear and adrenaline slowly ebbed away, and my heartbeat slowed to normal. Ben leaned the shotgun against the railing and held me in a fierce, almost desperate embrace, as if daring something to try to rip me away. I relaxed into him, felt his arms around me and, if only for a moment, let myself feel safe.

“Come on,” he whispered, finally drawing back. “Let’s try to make town before nightfall.”

* * *

It wasn’t quite dusk when we stumbled off the main highway, following an exit ramp into the ruins of a small town. The late-afternoon sun cast long shadows over the empty streets and rows of dark, decaying houses, their yards overgrown with weeds. We passed homes and streets that must have been a nice little suburban community. Yards had been well-tended once, and the driveways were full of station wagons and minivans. I kept looking for signs of life, hints that people still lived, but except for a small orange cat, darting away into the bushes, there was nothing.

“What are we looking for?” I asked Ben, my voice sounding unnaturally loud in the stillness. The sun hovered low on the horizon, a sullen blood-red, like a swollen eye. Ben gave it a nervous look, then gestured to a building as we reached a crossroad. “Something like that.”

A gas station sat desolately on a corner, windows smashed, gas hoses lying on the ground. We approached cautiously, peering through the shattered glass, but it was empty of life and most everything else. Inside, the shelves were stripped clean, glass littered the floor, and most of the displays were tipped over. Others had been here before us. Fleeing town, perhaps, when the plague hit. Though I didn’t know where they thought they could run. Red Lung was everywhere, now.

“Been pretty picked over,” Ben muttered, stepping around downed shelves and broken glass. He nudged an empty display that had once held energy drinks and shook his head. “Let’s not waste too much time looking; I want to get out of here soon. This place is making me jumpy.”

Me, too. Though I couldn’t put my finger on why. The town seemed lifeless. We rummaged around and found a few meat tins, jerky rolls and a bag of Doritos that had been missed. We tossed our findings into a plastic bag, the rustle of paper and plastic the only sounds in the quiet. Outside, the sun dipped below the horizon, stealing the last of the evening light, and a chill crept through the air.

“All right,” Ben said, rising to his feet, “I think we have enough, for a little while, at least. Now, I wonder how hard it will be to find a car...?”

A woman shuffled past the broken window.

I jerked, grabbing Ben’s arm, as the figure moved by without stopping. My stomach lurched. “Hey!” I called, hopping over shelves and broken glass to the door, peering out. The woman was walking down the sidewalk, stumbling every few steps, and didn’t seem to have heard me.

Abruptly, she put a hand against the wall and bent over as violent coughing shook her thin frame. Blood spattered the ground beneath her in crimson drops, and I stumbled to a halt.

Ben came up behind me and took my arm, moving me back. The woman finally stopped coughing and slowly turned to face us. I saw the thin streams of blood, running from her eyes like crimson tears, and my insides turned to ice.

“Oh, my God.” I looked at Ben, saw the same horror reflected on his face, the realization of what was happening. Not Red Lung. The other thing. It was already here. “How could it spread this fast?”

He grabbed my wrist as the woman gagged on her own blood and collapsed to the gutter, twitching. “The whole town could be infected. We have to get out of here, now!”

We turned and fled, our footsteps pounding the sidewalk, echoing dully in the stillness. Only...the town wasn’t as empty and still as I’d first thought. As the light vanished from the skies and streetlamps flickered to life, things began moving in the darkness and shadows. Moans and wails crept from dark houses, doors slammed open and pale, shambling figures stumbled out of the black. Terror gripped me. We were out in the open, exposed. The second that one spotted us, we would be run down and torn apart. The only saving grace was that the creatures seemed groggy and confused right now, not completely alert. If we could get to the edge of town without being seen—

Ben jerked to a halt in front of a line of cars as one of the creatures, long and thin and terrible, leaped onto the roof with the ease of a cat. It peered at us with blank white eyes and hissed, baring a mouthful of jagged fangs. My heart and stomach turned to ice. Gasping, we turned to run the other way.

Three more of the monsters leaped over a fence, hissing and snarling as they crept forward, blocking our path. One of them had been a woman, once; she wore a tattered dress that dragged through the mud, and her hair was long and matted.

Oh, God. This is it, we’re going to die.

One of the creatures screamed, sounding eerily human, and rushed Ben. It moved shockingly fast, like a monstrous spider skittering forward. Ben barely had time to raise the shotgun, but he did bring the muzzle up just in time, and a deafening boom rocked the air around us. The creature was flung backward, landing in the bushes with a shriek, and wild screeching erupted from the shadows around us. Pale things scuttled forward, closing in from all directions, teeth, claws and dead eyes shining in the darkness.

“This way!”

The deep voice rang out like a shot, startling us both. Whirling around, I saw a tall, dark figure emerge from the shadows between two houses, beckoning us forward.

“Hurry!” he snapped, and we darted toward him, following his dark shadow as it turned and vanished between houses, seeming to melt into the night. The shrieks of the monsters rang all around us, but we trailed the figure through a maze of overgrown yards and fences until he fled up a crumbling set of stairs into the ruins of a brick house.

The door slammed behind us as we ducked over the threshold. Gasping, we watched the figure throw the lock, then stalk to the front windows and yank the curtains shut before turning around.

Muffled silence descended, broken only by the shrieks and wails outside. I blinked, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. The man before us was enormous; not overly tall or heavy, just physically imposing. He wasn’t that much taller than Ben, but he possessed a definite quiet strength, the bearing of someone who knew how to handle himself. His skin was the pale color of a man who spent all his time indoors, someone who didn’t see a lot of sun, though his broad chest and corded muscle hinted at the power underneath. His hair was dark, and his eyes, when they turned on us, were blacker than the shadows that surrounded him.

“Stay back from the windows,” he said in that deep, powerful voice. “We should be safe here, but the rabids will tear down the walls if they see us. Move back.”

“Rabids?” I whispered. The man shrugged.

“What some have taken to calling them.” His piercing gaze lingered on me, assessing. “Have either of you been bitten?”

“No,” Ben said, holding his shotgun in both hands, I noted. Not pointing it at the stranger but not relaxing it, either. I held my breath, but the stranger didn’t press the question. He simply nodded and moved away from the door, heading toward the dilapidated kitchen.

“If either of you wish to be helpful, you might want to start covering any windows that you find.” His voice drifted back from the hall. “Just don’t let the rabids see you, or we’ll have to find a new place to hole up. I’m afraid you’re rather stuck here until morning.”

Ben and I shared a glance, then did what we were told. For several minutes, we concentrated on fortifying the house, making sure there were no windows, gaps or open spaces through which the monsters—the rabids—could climb in or see us. When we had made the house as secure as we could, closing curtains, shoving furniture in front of doors, we returned to the kitchen, which was small and had no windows to speak of. The dark stranger was there, leaning against a counter, watching us with fathomless black eyes.

“You might want to turn the flashlight off for now,” he said, nodding at the light in my hands, the feeble ray barely piercing the shadows. “There are candles in the drawers if you need light, but be cautious where you set them out. Make sure they are in a spot where the rabids cannot see them.”

I watched him carefully, shining the light for Ben as he rummaged through the drawer across from the stranger, pulling out three short candles and a book of matches. He stood there, motionless as a statue, his stark gaze not even on us anymore. He seemed distracted, as if we were only shadows, moving around him, not part of his world at all.

There was the sharp hiss and sizzle of a match flaring to life, and I clicked off the flashlight as Ben set the lit candles on the counter. The stranger’s attention finally shifted back to us, and he looked almost surprised that we were still there. Ben stared back, his expression cautious, all the muscles in his body rigid.

“You can relax,” the stranger told us with the faintest hint of a smile. “It was pure coincidence that I stumbled upon you this evening. I did not lure you here to kill you in your sleep.” His smile faded, and he turned away. “I mean you no harm tonight, I give you my word.”

Tonight? I thought, not knowing why that sounded odd to me. What about tomorrow night, then? “We don’t mean to be ungrateful,” I said, as Ben slowly relaxed his grip on the shotgun. “It’s just been a rough couple of days.”

“Yes, it has.” The man scrubbed a hand across his face, then pushed himself off the counter. “There’s food in the cupboards,” he announced, sounding tired. “And I believe the stove is gas. It might still work. I’d advise you not to open the refrigerator—the electricity has been out for a couple weeks, by the looks of it.”

“Thank you,” Ben murmured, setting the gun on the counter as the stranger moved toward the door. “I’m Ben, by the way, and that’s Kylie.”

The stranger nodded. “I’ll check the closets for blankets,” he continued, as if Ben hadn’t spoken at all. “Make yourselves as comfortable as you can.”

With a nod to me, he turned and left the room, making absolutely no noise on his way out.

He didn’t, I noticed, offer his name.

* * *

I found several boxes of macaroni and cheese in the cupboard, along with a few cans of vegetables, and cooked them in the darkness with Ben hovering beside the stove. I found myself wondering who had lived here before, what had happened to them. Had they fled town, leaving their house and all their possessions behind? Or were they now a part of the horror...outside?

“Your carrots are boiling over,” Ben commented, and I jerked up with a whispered curse. Water was bubbling over the rim of the pot and flowing down to the stovetop. “Sorry,” I muttered, moving it to a different burner. “Cooking is not my strong suit. Most of my dinners come in microwave boxes.” The macaroni suddenly followed the carrot’s example, hissing as it overflowed its container. “Dammit!”

“Here.” Ben gently moved me out of the way, turning down the heat and maneuvering the pots around with the ease of familiarity. I watched him stir in the cheese, spoon the noodles and carrots onto tin plates, and wondered at the surreal normalcy of it all. Here we were, cooking macaroni and having dinner, while outside the world was falling to the vampire-zombie apocalypse.

No sleep for me tonight, that’s for certain. Think about something else, Kylie.

“Wow,” I said, as Ben put the bowls on the table, “a man who can shoot a gun and cook? Why are you still single, Ben Archer?”

I couldn’t be positive in the flickering candlelight, but he might’ve blushed. “Mac-n-cheese is not cooking,” he said with a small grin. “And, I don’t know. I’ve never found the right girl, I suppose. What about you?”

“Me?” I sat down at the table, picking up the spoon left on the cloth, hoping it was clean. “I never had the time for...anything like that,” I admitted, as Ben sat down across from me. “It was either work and study or have a life, you know? I never thought about settling down or having a family. I wanted to concentrate on finishing school, getting a good job. Everything else sort of took a backseat.”

“What about now?” Ben asked softly.

I fidgeted. He was giving me that intense, smoldering look again, the one that made my insides do strange twirly backflips. “What do you mean?”

He gave me a you-know-what-I-mean look. “What do you want to do, now that the world is screwed over?” He jerked his head at a window. “Everything is different, and it won’t be normal for a long time, I think. Do you...” He paused, playing with his fork. “Do you ever think you’d want to...settle down? Find a safe place to wait this out and start a family?”

“You mean pull an Adam and Eve and populate the world again?” He didn’t smile at the joke, and I sighed. “I don’t know, Ben. Maybe. But I also want to see if I can help. I know everything is screwed up right now, but I’d like to help out where I can.” I shrugged and prodded my food. “I haven’t really given it much thought, though. Right now, all I want to do is stay alive.”

“An admirable plan,” came a voice from the doorway.

We both jumped. The dark stranger stood in the frame, the light flickering over his strong yet elegant features. I hadn’t even heard him approach; the space had been empty a moment before, and now he was just there.

“Next time, though, perhaps you should avoid going into any towns or settlements at night,” he said. “The rabids are everywhere now, and spreading. Just like the virus. Soon, nowhere will be safe, for anyone.”

His voice was dull, hopeless, and though his face remained calm, I could see the agony flickering in his dark eyes. As if his mask was slipping, cracking, showing glints of guilt, horror and sorrow underneath. I recognized it, because Ben had worn the same mask when he’d stepped into my clinic that day, a stoic front over a mind about to fall apart. This stranger looked the same.

Ben gestured to the chair at the end of the table. “There’s plenty of food, if you want it,” he offered.

“I’ve already eaten.”

“Well, join us, at least,” I added, and that black, depthless gaze flicked to me. “You sort of saved our lives. The least we can do is thank you for it.”

He paused, as though weighing the consequences of such a simple action, before he very slowly pulled out a chair and sat down, lacing his fingers together. Every motion, everything he did, was powerful and controlled; nothing was wasted. His eyes, however, remained dark and far away.

A moment of awkward silence passed, the only sounds being the clink of utensils against the bowls and the occasional shriek of the rabids outside. The man didn’t move; he remained sitting with his chin on his hands, staring at the table. He was so still, so quiet, if you weren’t looking directly at him, you wouldn’t know he was there at all.

“Where are you headed?” the stranger murmured without looking up, an obvious attempt at civility. Ben swallowed a mouthful of water and put the cup down.

“West,” he replied. “Toward Illinois. I have family there, I hope.” His face tightened, but he shook it off. “What about you? If we’re headed the same direction, you’re welcome to come along. Where are you going?”

For a few seconds, there was no answer. I wasn’t sure the stranger was even paying attention, when he gave a short, bitter laugh. My gut clenched with horror and fear. In that moment, his mask slipped away, and I saw the raw agony beneath the smooth facade, the glassy sheen in his eyes that hovered close to madness.

“It doesn’t matter,” he rasped. “Nothing matters anymore. No matter where I go, I’ll be hunted. I could flee to the other side of the world, and they would find me. I thought...” He covered his eyes with a hand. “I thought I could change things. But I’ve only made it far, far worse.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

The stranger drew in a deep breath, appearing to compose himself. “I’ve...done something,” he admitted, lowering his hand. He stared down at the table, the candlelight reflected in his dark eyes. “Something I will never be forgiven for. Something that will likely cause my death. A very painful, drawn-out death, if I know my kin.” Another of his short, bitter laughs. “And it will be completely justified.”

Outside, something shrieked and slammed into the side of the wall. We froze, holding our breath, listening, as the body scrabbled around the base of the house, watching its jerky movements through a slit in the curtain. Finally, it shuffled off, vanishing into the night, and we started breathing again.

I glanced at the stranger. “Whatever it was,” I began, knowing he probably wouldn’t tell me the details, “it can’t be that bad, right?”

No answer. Just a tight, bitter smile.

I took a breath. “Look,” I began, wondering why I wanted to help him, to ease the darkness in his eyes, on his face. Maybe I was trying to return the favor, or maybe I felt that I was seeing only a hint of the agony beneath that cool, flinty shell. The reasons didn’t matter; I reached out and put a hand on his wrist. “Whatever you’ve done, or think you’ve done, it’s over now. You can’t go back and change it. What you do about it, right now, from here on out, that’s the important thing.”

I felt Ben’s eyes on me and realized I could be talking to both of them. And myself. I couldn’t go back and change anything. Maggie and Jenna were gone. The world was full of monsters, or it would be soon. I could not dwell on the past, what I had lost, who I had failed. From here on, I could only move forward.

The stranger blinked, staring at my fingers on his wrist as though surprised to find them there. His skin was pale, smooth and oddly cool.

“Perhaps...you are right.” He straightened, giving me an unfathomable look. “I cannot escape what I have done, but perhaps I can make up for it. I still have time. It shames me that a...stranger...must tell me what should be obvious, but these are unusual times.” He stared at me, and that faint, bemused smile flickered across his face. “Incredible, that after all these years I can still be surprised.”

He rose, startling me with the smooth, quick motion. “There are stairs to a finished basement down the hall,” he said, back to being matter-of-fact, his mask sliding into place once more. “It will be the safest place for you to spend the night, I believe. If you want to get some sleep, I would do so there.”