In The End Box Set , Stevens, GJ [motivational novels .txt] 📗

The room was nearly pitch black with the curtains drawn, just the light from the hallway seeping in. Somehow, we got Naomi up the stairs, carrying her between four of us. Her body hardly responded as we turned her around the corners, landing her in the front bedroom where I pulled in the sheet from outside and sealed the windows up tight.

Zoe lay beside her, stroking her hand. There was nothing left to do but keep watch. I had to stay close.

“You can leave now,” Zoe said, as I leaned against the door frame. She kept her gaze on Naomi, didn't turn my way. “You can leave,” she repeated. “I know why you're waiting.”

I kept quiet and held my ground, a deep sadness gripping my insides. Zoe was one of my best friends and there was nothing I could do to stop her pain.

“Go away,” she shouted, tears falling.

Shadow thudded upstairs, his nose in the air and his bright brown eyes between me and the bed. I slipped away and he took my place.

Cassie was in the kid's room, tidying up the mess, some of which I'd made in my search for the pens. The two young girls were asleep in the bed; it had been a boy's room, the Spiderman bed cover one of many tells. A Superman sleeping bag was rolled out on the floor.

“Where's Jack?” I said.

She turned my way, a smile rising and for the first time I saw a dimple just below each of her high cheek bones.

“Lane's looking at his hand downstairs. The girls are whacked,” she said.

I felt a yawn fill my face.

“We all are,” I replied, matching her expression, then turned away. Sleep was a long way off for me. I knew I would have to break Zoe's heart when the time came.

I peered out of each of the windows, looking down through the cold air.

Out the back, three or four of those things were roaming around, each looking like they had no care in the world.

From the front, Zoe opened her eyes as I arrived and I patted Shadow, still in the same place.

Zoe closed her eyes as I went to the window, not watching as I looked down at the devastation and the bodies lain across the road. The farmer who'd smashed the window was ambling around the front, stumbling as he came to each of the truly dead.

I pulled the curtains closed and left Shadow on duty.

Already I'd learned to hate the calm. It was time waiting for the next crisis to strike, waiting for the next event to tear our world further apart.

Every little noise in this foreign house spiked my interest. I drew the gun in my mind ten times a minute, pointing it towards the dark.

I found Lane and Andrew in the kitchen, with Jack sitting on the edge of the worktop by the sink. Jack's hand was in Lane's, who was leaning in to inspect a semi-circular wound between his thumb and forefinger.

“He's been bitten,” Andrew said, Lane's first aid kit open in his hand. It was one of the few things we'd been able to keep, the rest of our hoard lost, scattered around the campfire when we were overrun; a mistake we would not repeat.

“Bitten by what?” I asked, fearing the answer. “When?” I said, as Andrew and Lane only replied with a raise of their eyebrows.

“Two days ago,” Andrew said.

“He thinks,” Lane added.

My gaze fixed on his and then on Andrew’s before turning down to Jack, the only one in the room who seemed to be oblivious.

He'd been bitten two days ago. Why wasn't he dead?

“How are you feeling, little man?” I asked.

“Fine,” he said, his voice quiet.

I looked up to Lane. He replied with a nod.

“You must be tired,” I said, but he shook his head.

“He thinks he slept all day yesterday, after he was bitten,” said Andrew.

I ruffled the kid's hair and Andrew followed me to the dining room, where someone had put everything which might be of use on the table. There were a few cans of beans and a small stack of nappies, but not much else other than a collection of half-full spirit bottles. Very little food.

“There's a village down the road,” I said, but Andrew dismissed my statement.

“We need to watch the kid,” Andrew said, his voice quiet as he leaned in.

“He seems fine,” I replied.

“You want to take the chance?”

“Maybe it's not a death sentence. Being bitten, I mean.”

Andrew kept quiet and Lane appeared at the door.

“He seems okay. More than okay,” he said, his voice quiet as we listened to light footsteps on the stairs.

“With the others…” Andrew said, but his face turned to the floor as he stopped talking.

I patted Andrew's upper arm.

“They wouldn't stop bleeding. Chloe anyway,” I said, Andrew filling the pause I'd left.

“And Naomi,” he said, looking to the ceiling. “The others didn't last long enough.”

Lane's voice was quiet as the footsteps headed over our heads.

“I had a look at Naomi and you're right, it looks like there's a clotting issue. I'm no doctor. We're trained in first aid for combat trauma, but there's more going on than just the bite. It's not the same for the kid. It's healing really well. I didn't need to bandage it.”

Lane was looking between us both. I glared at Andrew.

“You sure you want to take a chance?” he said, this time in Lane’s direction.

Lane was about to reply when Shadow's volley of barked calls stopped the words from coming.

48

The pistol led the way up the stairs, myself, Lane and Andrew chasing Shadow's sharp homing calls as best we could.

I knew what I'd see as I crested;