Apokalypsis Book Two

by Kate Morris

  “Good,” he said and laid a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Don’t tell anyone yet. Now, give me exact and detailed directions on which route she would’ve taken.”

  “It’s pretty simple.”

  After he was done, Tristan realized it was the same way he went to the city the other day. Good thing for him, it was the only way he knew.

  “Stay inside. Keep the house locked. I saw you guys have a bow?”

  “Yeah,” he answered.

  “If anyone comes down that driveway that isn’t me, you may need to defend the house. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. I’ll be back with Avery.”

  Abraham nodded nervously but looked out of his mind with worry. Tristan got back in the Jeep and made sure the gate closed behind him when he pulled out. Then he sped away again. He knew she wasn’t on this road because he would’ve seen her car.

  He followed it to the main road, a smoother state route, and sped up. He was looking for her broken down Lexus SUV, a smaller, more compact vehicle than the beast her mother drove, so he didn’t fly in case he would miss it.

  He turned off the radio and kept going. The hills and curves in this county were intense and dangerous in spots. His mind fled back to last night with Spencer and finding him in a ditch. He didn’t want to discover Avery in a ditch.

  Keeping to the route her brother told him, Tristan came to the first small town, drove through it and kept going. He ended up all the way up by the freeway that would take him to the hospital. There was no way she got this far. Plus, she could’ve gotten cell service or her roadside assistance emergency link in her Lexus to work in this area so close to the city if she was just broken down. He took the exit and looped back around to get on the freeway going west again. He had to have missed her. This time he sped up as he then took the exit for route 43. It was a two-lane road, but he sped anyway. He didn’t pass a single car. This was out in the country away from the city but not even as remote as where she lived. Somewhere along this path, she had to have broken down.

  Ten minutes later, he passed through the small town again and angled onto route 171 again. This road had a lot of severe curves and hills, so he slowed back down. The rain picked up again until he was using his wipers on medium speed.

  “Dammit,” he swore to the cab of the Jeep. The rain was making it harder to see. Out in this area, the houses were sparse and spread out few and far between like on her road. It was also a lot darker than in the city without streetlamps guiding the way.

  He came to one of the steeper hills and descended, braking because it looked like water was collecting on the road at the bottom. He didn’t want to hydroplane and lose control. That wasn’t going to help her, so he slowed down even more.

  That’s when he spotted something shiny out his window in the field at the bottom of the hill on the other side of the road. Tristan drove up to the top of the hill and turned around. He went back down and pulled off the side of the road and took the flashlight out of his toolbox. Then he got out and walked around the Jeep, through a mud puddle where the water was pretty deep, and toward the object he’d seen flashing. It was silver. Then the beam of his flashlight caught it. Tristan ran. It was her car, the light having caught her bumper. The SUV was upside down on its roof. The lights weren’t on, which was why he hadn’t spotted it the first time through here. It made him sick that he hadn’t seen it. He’d wasted at least another forty minutes driving to the city and backtracking looking for her.

  As he neared, the light bobbing up and down as he ran, Tristan could see her still in her seat with the seatbelt on. She wasn’t moving as he dropped to his knees beside the driver’s door. It was crushed, and he couldn’t open it.

  “Dammit!” he shouted and ran to the other side. It was also too hard to open. He wondered how many times she’d rolled. At least three or four to have ended up this far from the road and with this amount of damage. He aimed the light into the back. If she had her father with her, he was gone, and the rear passenger door was open. Tristan was going to have to go in that way.

  He crawled through debris all over the ceiling that must’ve flown everywhere during the accident. Finally, he could reach her. Placing two fingers on her slim neck, he breathed a sigh of relief when he got a pulse. She was definitely not awake, though, and he sure as hell didn’t know what all was wrong with her.

  Dragging his knife out of his boot, Tristan cut her seat belt and managed to get her untangled from it. Then he set the flashlight on the ceiling of the backseat where he was kneeling. The roof was on the ground so he could see with the flashlight lying there without having to hold onto it. He was going to need both hands to get her out of the car.

  Luckily for him, she wasn’t a very big person, but he still struggled. Hooking his hands under her armpits, he gingerly pulled her back toward him on the ceiling, hoping the broken glass from the skylight didn’t cut her. Struggling to drag her gently in the tight confines, Tristan was also mindful of further hurting her. Once he got her to the back with him, it was easier to move her. After a few more minutes, Tristan had her free and out of the vehicle. He reached in and grabbed his flashlight, sticking it in his back pocket.

  “Avery, wake up,” he said, touching her cheek and cradling her head in his lap. Nothing. No response whatsoever. He had to get her to the hospital. He knew she had her father with her in the car, but as he shined the light of his phone around the pasture, he didn’t see the man. With the back door being open like that, he wondered if the man left to find help. Or, perhaps he was flung from the vehicle during the accident if he wasn’t in a seatbelt.

  “Mr. Andersson!” he yelled at the top of his lungs but didn’t get an answer. Tristan knew he had to get her to a doctor. She was cold to the touch from being in her car without the heat going for potentially three or four hours. The temperature in the Jeep earlier read forty-six degrees on his way out on his route. It was probably colder now. Without a choice, Tristan pocketed his phone, hefted her into his arms carefully, and walked quickly back across the field toward the Jeep. His body froze, and the hair on the back of his neck stood at attention when he heard one of those things do that awful scream they all seemed to do. It was behind him somewhere in the distance. He’d left his sidearm in the Jeep console.

  He picked up the pace and practically jogged the last twenty yards. Then he managed to open the passenger door and shoved everything onto the floor from the seat to get her in. He reclined her seat back as far as it would go. A chill ran up his spine as he heard her car being rummaged. The door or some part of it was slammed over and over again as if someone were angry.

  He shut her door and ran around to the other side and got in. Something hit her passenger door with a force like a rhinoceros had suddenly appeared out of the field and decided to pursue them. He engaged the door locks. Tristan cranked over the engine and put it in drive. He glanced quickly to make sure nothing was opening her door as he stomped on the gas. He stalled out.

  “Fuck!” he shouted as the Jeep was hit again by the person outside in the rain trying to get in. He stomped down on the clutch and fired it up again. “Son of a bitch.”

  Another glance out her window encouraged him not to stall the Jeep. Mad, bloodshot eyes stared through the rain at him. Tristan didn’t even hesitate this time. He ground it into gear and took off, not even checking to make sure anyone was coming. He flew, heedless of the rain this time. Nothing mattered. Not the weather or the speed limit. All he could think was that he had to get her to a hospital. He couldn’t even process the fact that he had been staring at what he was sure used to be her father through that window.

  Loss. It was what everyone felt now. Not a soul left on earth was immune to this exhausting, horrible, depleting emotion. It was as if a thousand mournful violins played out the same melancholy notes in her head at the same time. It was overwhelming. It smothered and sucked the life out of a person.

  Devastation. It was what
had happened to the world as humans knew it. Earth had been devastated by a disease worse than any in known human history. Nobody knew how to fix it. This was just the world they lived in now.

  Survival. It was the only skill anyone needed now. People either adapted or died. Skills were reduced to shelter, food, water, and running when they were near. Computers, manufacturing, artistry, building and creating- none of it mattered anymore to anyone. Just staying alive another day so that they didn’t add to the devastating feeling of loss their loved ones were all already dealing with was all that mattered. She didn’t want to add to what her family had already lost. She wanted to survive. Some days that feeling just slipped a little.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  October

  Beep-bleep, beep-bleep, beep-bleep. Her eyelids were so heavy. Lifting them felt impossible. Her mind felt cloudy as if she couldn’t quite piece together the fragments of time and space and put them in their proper order. Avery’s left eye just barely peeped open, and she was accosted by white light. The soft, slow Beep-bleep, beep-bleep, beep-bleep sounded like a heart rate monitor in a hospital. Right. She was in the hospital. She’d taken her mother’s place at the hospital so she could go home and get some rest.

  Her brain was slow to wake, so she must’ve been up late last night. She couldn’t remember arriving at the hospital. She had to get some coffee so she could talk to the doctor handling her father’s case. Plus, she needed to call home and give an update on Cyrus, Faith, and Joy. Her mother would be worried. She was trying to remember relieving her mother, too. That was sketchy in her mind. Was it really late last night? She wasn’t sure. And what floor were the girls and Cyrus on? Where’d they move her father?

  Avery tried to speak, but the sound was a quiet croak. She brought her hand to her throat and winced.

  “You’re awake,” a woman whose voice was not her mother said. “Let me get your fiancée. Poor man’s been worried half to death.”

  Avery felt like she was in a strange dream still. But she hadn’t awakened from some vivid dream or any dream at all. It was just dark behind her eyes, and now it was a dull light as she struggled to keep them open. Too groggy to stay awake, her eyes drifted shut again.

  “Avery?” a man’s voice said. “Avery? Are you awake?”

  She opened her eyes more easily this time and stared up into Tristan’s face. Familiarity bred comfort, and she exhaled with relief.

  “Tris…” her voice cracked. She brought her hand to her throat again. Good grief. Why was she so parched? “Ow,” she whispered and looked at the source of pinching in her hand. It was an intravenous needle under her skin pricking at her. Her eyes widened this time. “What..wh…”

  “Shh, just relax,” Tristan said and placed his hand on her forehead. He looked like he was going to cry. No. That couldn’t be right. He was a mean, hardened soldier. “You’re in a hospital.”

  Of course, she was. She was taking care of her siblings and father. Everyone was counting on her.

  “Try to relax,” he encouraged.

  His hand felt nice. It was huge and warm against her skin, which felt cold as he stroked his thumb methodically. He looked strange, though. His hair was messed up, there were dark circles under his blue eyes, and he was sporting a thick, fuller beard instead of just that stubble he normally wore.

  “What’s…” her voice cracked again.

  “Can she have some water, Anne?” he asked the woman, who Avery realized as she came into view again was a nurse.

  “Yes, Sergeant. Right away,” she said and hurried out of the room. Avery watched her go as if viewing a movie.

  “Avery, do you remember what happened, Angel?” he asked softly.

  What? ‘Angel’? Did he just call her that? He was usually so gruff, sometimes abrasive, sometimes even a little rude. Now he seemed tender and…emotional. She took a deep breath and tried to rub her nose. Something was there, and she jerked with surprise.

  “Just leave that there, okay?” he said, pressing something invasive back into her nostrils. “That’s just oxygen. Don’t worry. It’s good for you.” He offered a gentle, small smile.

  She could hear classical music playing along with the beeping machines. It felt familiar and made her feel a little safer.

  “You were in a car accident,” Tristan told her. “Do you remember that?”

  She blinked heavily and tried to focus on his words. He stroked her forehead again. Then fragments of images flooded into her mind. Her car. Rain. The windshield wipers beating out a cadence.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  The car skidded on the road. The rain had caused it to hydroplane last night.

  The nurse rushed back in with a man on her heels. Avery tried not to rear back at the sight of him.

  “That’s your doctor, Ave,” Tristan said and moved his hand from her forehead to the doctor’s and shook it. “Dr. Marshall, good morning.”

  “Sergeant,” the man in the white lab coat greeted Tristan as if he knew him so well. “How’s my favorite patient today? Awake, I see.”

  He had a chart in his hands and was making notes. Every once in a while, he looked at her monitors, all which were beside Tristan, and wrote down more things. She took three sips from the ice water and let the cool liquid slide down her throat. It gave her a chill, though. Tristan must’ve realized it because he pulled her blanket higher on her chest.

  “Have you talked to her?” he was asking Tristan.

  “Yes, she remembers the accident.”

  “That’s good,” the doctor said, touching her shoulder. For some reason, Avery didn’t want him touching her and shrank back. He had a friendly face, tan and wrinkly, gray hair and a matching mustache. His eyes seemed kind. “Take your time. You’ve been through a lot, young lady.”

  “I’m in a hospital,” she said stupidly.

  “Yes, that’s right. Good,” Dr. Marshall said. “What else can you tell me?”

  “I-my car…it was raining,” she said. “We skid…”

  Avery stopped talking. She looked around at the faces and couldn’t take it anymore, so she stared at Tristan instead as the heart monitor began beeping louder and faster like an alarm was going off. More memories were hitting her. She was in a hospital. She didn’t know how she got here, but she was starting to remember why she was here. Avery shook her head and closed her eyes hard trying to blot out more memories. Not remembering was so much better. She wanted to retreat back into that delirium.

  “No…” she whispered.

  “It’s okay, Avery,” Tristan said and stroked her cheek.

  She couldn’t breathe, even with the oxygen nubs stuck up her nostrils. Rain. She was taking her father to the hospital. He was sick, really sick.

  Avery shook her head harder and said, “No, no.”

  “I’m here,” Tristan said as her eyes snapped open.

  “We wrecked.”

  He nodded. “Yes, you did. You were hurt. Trapped in the car. I found you unconscious. Abraham called me, and I came looking for you. I found you in a field at the bottom of that one steep hill. Do you remember hydroplaning?”

  She nodded shakily as tears welled deep pools in her eyes.

  “Avery, was your dad with you?” he asked slowly and took her hand instead.

  “Let me up,” she said. “I want up. I want out of here. I don’t want to be here. Let me sit up!”

  “You can’t leave just yet, young lady,” the doctor said. “Maybe tomorrow if your numbers all come back normal like they did yesterday.”

  “I wanna’ go,” she cried as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Just take a slow breath,” Tristan encouraged as he raised her bed until she was just leaning back slightly but felt at least like she wasn’t lying prone anymore. “Relax, okay? I’m here.”

  “My…” her lower lip quivered as she tried to focus on Tristan since he was the only familiar face in the room. “My father…he…”

  She pressed her hand to her forehead
and then both fists to her eyes as she gasped for air and tears spilled around her hands.

  “I know,” Tristan admitted and pulled her forward into his arms. She cried hard then. She knew exactly what happened now. It was too much. She couldn’t handle this. Everything was just too much. Memories were suffocating her.

  “We’ll leave you two alone for a while,” the nurse said, lowered the lights to a dimmer setting and went toward the door by the sounds of her movement. “I’ll order her some food and a tray for you, too, Tristan.”

  Her mind couldn’t even process what was happening. Tristan sure was chummy with the hospital staff. She just cried until she was all cried out over the loss of her father. He was one of them, the violent kind, the night crawlers. He’d tried to kill her, and that was what made her wreck her car. Remembering that made her cry a little longer.

  “Easy now,” he said and stroked her back. Then Tristan handed her tissues and gently eased her back down. Her body was achy and sore all over.

  “You said you knew? You knew my father…”

  He nodded, a deep crease forming between his thick eyebrows. “Yeah, I think I saw him when I got you into my vehicle.”

  “You did? Where is he? Is he…”

  He cut her off. “Avery, I don’t know. I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop. I had to get you to the hospital. You were unconscious. I didn’t know what all was wrong with you. He’s…he’s out there somewhere. We’ll find him. The police know. We’ll get him help, okay?”

  “If it was just last night, he can’t be far,” she surmised.

  He shook his head and sat on the edge of her bed where he took her hand again. He was being uncharacteristically affectionate.

  “You’ve been here eight days, Avery.”

  “Eight days?” she gasped and held her other hand over her heart. “My mom! My family.”

  “Don’t worry, okay?” he said soothingly and stroked her forehead with his free hand. “Abraham and Kaia are holding down the fort, okay? Everything’s under control. I go down every evening and make sure they have food and whatever else they need. Abraham’s got my gun, too.”