I thought about it for a moment, flipping through the times I’d been sick and the things Mom had done for me. I had to take a deep breath when a pang vibrated through my chest at the memories. Mom sitting up with me at night as I burned with fever, or me being curled up in her bed. Lying on the couch, my head resting in her lap.
“I should get him some medication, right?” I looked toward Kiaya for confirmation, but she only shrugged. “Tylenol or something?”
“If he has a fever, yeah,” she said.
“Good point,” I replied.
When she didn’t make a move, I did. Everything in me wanted to run away, but I ignored it and lowered myself to the bed at Kyle’s side.
“Hey,” I whispered, putting my hand on his forehead. His skin burned against mine. “What can I do for you? Anything?”
Kyle cracked one eye and looked up at me. “I don’t know. Everything hurts. Deep inside.”
Tylenol was a must, but what else? He’d need to stay hydrated. Mom had always emphasized that when I was sick. Drink more water, Rowan, she’d always said, Water and rest are the best medicine. I wasn’t sure either one could help Kyle, but they might make him more comfortable, and they were literally the only things I could do.
“You should drink something,” I managed to get out. “I can get some ice chips. How does that sound?”
He nodded, but his eyelids had already slid shut.
I stood and turned to face Kiaya, who was now sitting on the other bed, her eyes wide and round and full of terror. “I’m going to drive to the pharmacy we passed and get him something for the fever. I don’t know if it will help but…”
It’s all I can do, I thought, but left the words unsaid.
“That’s a good idea.” She nodded and stood like my decision had motivated her. “I can get some ice chips while you’re gone. Maybe a cold washcloth on his forehead?”
A memory of Mom wiping my forehead when I was little popped into my head, bringing with it the urge to cry. If only she were here to take on this burden. I was ill-equipped for this, wasn’t strong enough. My whole life, she’d done everything for me, and now here I was in the middle of nowhere with all this responsibility. It was too much.
“A washcloth sounds good.” I ran my hand down my face, feeling suddenly like I hadn’t slept in days. “We can grab some dinner at the diner across the street after I get back. If you’re hungry.”
“That sounds good,” Kiaya replied.
“Okay.” I turned toward the door, saying over my shoulder, “I won’t be long.”
She said nothing.
Outside, I dragged myself back to the car and slid behind the wheel. My hands gripped it at ten and two, my fingers tightening until I felt like my bones would snap. Closing my eyes, I rested my forehead on the steering wheel between my clenched hands, breathing slowly, trying to stay calm. I’d thought my breakdown earlier had been enough, but now I felt on the verge of another one. I couldn’t let it happen, though. I needed to get to the pharmacy and get some medicine, then maybe get a cup of broth or soup or something from the diner and force Kyle to eat some. Then I needed to call my parents and let them know what was going on. That was going to be the hardest part, the thing that would push me closest to the breaking point. Even then, I had to hold on. I didn’t know if this was the end for me or not, but it was for Kyle. He was going to need someone to cling to over the next day or however long it took him to die. I hoped it wasn’t long. Not just for him, but for me as well. I wanted to get out of here, to keep driving so I could get home before things got too bad.
That was assuming I didn’t get sick next.
I wanted my mom, and it made me feel like a child, but I couldn’t help it.
Sucking in a deep breath, I forced myself to lift my head. A hotel door right in front of me opened just as my eyes did, and a man stepped out. He was in his mid-thirties with buzzed hair and a beer gut, and a bulge in his lower lip. He spit on the ground and looked around, his gaze stopping on me, and his mouth stretched into an animalistic looking grin. Even in the darkness, I could see the steely color of his eyes, and something about him made my skin crawl.
I looked away and started the car.
4
It was after eight o’clock by the time I found a few minutes to call my parents. I’d coaxed some Motrin into Kyle, gotten him to drink a little chicken broth, fed him some ice chips, then ate the burger I’d gotten myself at the diner—which was cold by that point. Kiaya had surprised me by being stronger than I’d expected, considering how quiet and meek she’d been so far, and when I’d said I needed to step outside to make a call, she’d assured me she could stay with Kyle. Which I was grateful for.
The motel parking lot was packed and the NO was now lit up on the sign, telling me either someone had checked in after us or we’d gotten the last room. Either way, there weren’t many places I could go to have a quiet conversation, so I opted to get in my car again before pulling up my mom’s number. I took a deep breath, working to get my emotions under control so I didn’t scare her to death, and hit send.
It rang twice before she picked up.
“Rowan?” Something in her voice immediately had me on alert, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.
“It’s me, Mom. Are you okay? You sound weird.”
She swallowed but didn’t answer. Time stretched out while I waited for her to say something, and with each passing second, I became more certain she was about to tell me Dad or someone else we knew was sick. This was it. This was the moment I’d known was coming for a while. The moment when I learned definitively that everything was going to change.
“It’s here,” she finally said.
I clung to the phone tighter. “What do you mean? Tell me what’s going on.”
“Your Dad didn’t come home from the hospital last night, so I called him. He was too busy to talk for long. The ER has been overrun with patients, and he said there’s no end in sight. There are so many sick people, all with the same symptoms.” Her voice cracked. “I’m so glad you’re in Phoenix.”
Shit.
“I’m not in Phoenix, Mom.” I had to force the words out.
There was a pause. “What do you mean?”
“I’m in Texas. I got my travel papers a couple days ago. I didn’t want to stay there, so I found some people to travel with, and we left this morning. But—” The words stuck in my throat, either from more tears or from the guilt I felt at what I was doing to my mom. She’d wanted me to be safe. That was all she’d ever wanted.
“But what, Rowan?” Mom asked, sounding panicked. “What’s going on?”
“The guy traveling with us, Kyle is his name, he got sick. We had to stop at a motel in Vega, Texas. I don’t think he’s going to make it.”
“Oh, my God,” she gasped. “I told you to stay there. I told you not to come here.”
She had to know it wouldn’t have mattered either way, had to know this virus wasn’t contained and that I would have eventually been exposed whether I’d stayed in Phoenix or not.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, barely able to talk through the tears clogging my throat. “I just wanted to be home.”
“I know. I know.” Mom exhaled, the breath shaky and long. “I don’t know what’s happening, Rowan. Everything’s so scary. Your dad’s been gone for more than twenty-four hours now, and the last time I tried to call, there was no answer. I’m considering going over there to check on him.”
I sat up straighter, thinking about the hospital and all the sick people, about my mom being there. Dad was exposed. I hated thinking it, but it was a fact and something I had to accept. But Mom was home. She didn’t work, so odds were good she hadn’t been exposed to this thing. If she went to the hospital, though, she would be.
“You can’t do that,” I said fiercely. “You know Dad wouldn’t want you to.”
“Rowan…” Mom sounded like she was on the verge of breaking. “What if I never hear from him again?”
“If you go there,” I said, emphasizing the words by drawing them out, “you will be exposed to this virus. Do you want me to get home only to realize I’ve lost both my parents?”
My voice broke, and tears streamed down my cheeks. I swallowed but couldn’t find the strength to say anything else, because I’d just acknowledged something horrible and heartbreaking. My dad was going to die. I knew it deep in my bones, and I needed my mom to accept it so she would stay where she was and stay safe.
Somehow, despite the pain inside me, I managed to find my voice. “Promise me you’ll stay away from the hospital.”
“Rowan,” she said again, but nothing else.
“Mom,” my voice rose in a way it never had before when addressing my parents. “You have to promise me.”
She swallowed, and I held my breath, waiting for her to respond. The silence seemed to stretch out forever, so that by the time she finally exhaled and said, “Okay,” I felt as if I’d aged ten years.
I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Thank you.”
“But you have to promise you’ll get here. Understand? You won’t take any risks, and you won’t let anything stop you.”
“I promise,” I said.
“Good.”
Mom sniffed, and I imagined her crying the way I’d only seen a couple times. At my grandma’s funeral two years ago, and on the day I left for my freshman year of college. Those were the only times I’d ever witnessed her emotions get the better of her. She was so strong, had been through so much, and if anyone could get through this, it was her.
“I love you, Mom,” I said through my sobs.
“I love you,” she replied, her own voice shaking. “You and your dad are all I’ve ever wanted, Rowan. Please get home to me. Please don’t leave me alone.”
“I won’t,” I said, my shoulders shaking now. “I promise.”
It took me a while to pull myself together after hanging up, but once I had, I still didn’t move. It was a long shot and would probably just lead to me feeling more dejected, but I called Dad anyway. I had to try.
His voicemail picked up right away. I paused, the phone pressed to my ear, but said nothing. Should I leave a message? Would he be able to get it? Would it feel like a final goodbye?
It didn’t matter, I realized, because I had to do it.
I cleared my throat. “Dad, it’s me. I know you’re busy or… Never mind.” I shook my head. “I just wanted you to know that I love you.” My voice caught and I had to swallow. “So does Mom. I’m on my way home now. That’s all.”
I sighed when I hit END.
I headed back to the room. Kiaya was stretched out on the bed farthest from the door, and she looked up when I walked in, her expressionless gaze taking in my red eyes and smeared makeup, but she said nothing. Her silence had annoyed me earlier, but not anymore. Now I was thankful for it because I wasn’t sure if I would be able to talk even if I tried. My throat was too raw from crying.
In the other bed, Kyle lay. His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t asleep. He was tossing and turning, moaning in pain, and probably delirious. The drugs had barely taken the edge off his fever, and despite constantly changing the washcloth on his forehead, nothing seemed to cool him down. It was torture just watching him, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was going through.
“Has he said anything?” I asked Kiaya, still looking at Kyle.
“Nothing that makes sense.”
I moved to the bed without looking back at her, focusing on the sick boy I’d met just this morning. It was strange, thinking about watching him die when yesterday I hadn’t even known he existed. Even stranger was the knowledge that it would hurt me. That I liked him, and the tears that welled up when I thought about his parents and five siblings never getting to say goodbye were real.
“I promised I’d call his family if he didn’t make it home.”
I finally looked toward Kiaya. She was staring at me, her eyes big and round. They still showed little emotion, but I now realized they weren’t as blank as I’d first thought. It was something else, something I’d mistaken for apathy. Resignation. Maybe something even deeper.
“What about you?” I asked, unable to stop myself. “Do you want me to call your family if you don’t make it?”
“No,” she said, her voice flat.
“Don’t you want them to know what happened to you?”
I was pushing it. I knew she didn’t want me to ask, but I couldn’t help it. I was stuck in this motel with her until Kyle died. I had no idea how long that was going to be, but however long it took, I knew the next few hours were going to be horrible. I wanted to talk about something, anything, that would distract me from the moaning boy in the bed at my side.
“No,” she said again, and this time she looked away. “I don’t have anyone for you to call.”
“No parents? What about siblings?”
She flinched but didn’t look away from the bedspread. “I was a foster kid, and I aged out two years ago. I doubt my foster parents have thought about me since the day I left.”
I waited to see if she would say more, but she didn’t. Not that I was surprised at this point. At least now I understood her a little better. She hadn’t had a support system like I had. No parents to dote on her, no mother who’d looked at her like she was a miracle. Kiaya was used to fending for herself, used to being on her own. I kind of envied her.
I exhaled. “Well, I have a mom. A dad, too, although…” My words died.
Kiaya lifted her gaze to mine. “He’s sick?”
“I don’t know, but he will be soon if he isn’t now. If something happens to me, my mom will be alone. Can you call her for me? Tell her I went fast.” I look toward Kyle. “Tell her I didn’t suffer.”
“Yeah,” Kiaya said, her voice quiet and brimming with more emotion than she’d shown up to this point. “I can do that.”
“Thanks,” I said.
It was a fitful night. Kyle moaned in his sleep, which made my zombie dreams twice as vivid as they’d been the night before. I tossed and turned, kicking Kiaya more than once. If she’d somehow managed to sleep through Kyle’s delirious moans and rambling, I probably woke her every few minutes. By the time the sun had risen, poking through the cracks in the curtains, I felt like I was on the verge of turning into a zombie myself. I couldn’t have gotten more than a few minutes of sleep. Since I was wide awake and Kyle’s moaning had grown louder—his fever had probably risen—I dragged myself out of bed.
“It’s okay,” I whispered as I moved to his side.
His skin was as hot as an iron and clammy with sweat, and when he opened feverish eyes, they didn’t seem to be able to focus on me. “Tess,” he said, reaching out to grab my hand. “Skip got out. I’ve been looking for him all day, but I can’t find him. I’m afraid he got hit by a car.”
I didn’t know for sure, but I was assuming Skip was a dog and Kyle was relieving some childhood trauma of having lost a beloved pet. He seemed frantic, so I did my best to soothe him.
“It’s okay, Kyle,” I said, trying to keep my tone gentle and calm. “We found Skip. He’s sleeping now.”
“You did?” Kyle started to sit up. “Where is he?”
“He’s sleeping.” I put my hands on his shoulders, urging him to stay down. “You’ve been up all night looking for him, but you need to rest now. You can see him later.”
“We can play catch,” Kyle said, giving in and lying down.
“That’s right,” I w
hispered.
Behind me, the bedsprings groaned, and I turned to find Kiaya getting up. “How is he?”
“Worse.” I looked back at him. “His fever is up. We should try to get him to take something.”
“I’ll get it,” she said, her voice soft.
I watched her head to the bathroom, a glass in her hand. After our little conversation the night before, something between us had shifted. I didn’t know what, exactly, but I got the impression I’d broken through some barrier with Kiaya. That there’d been a wall between us—maybe between her and everyone she met—and something about our conversation had put a hole in it. Whatever the reason, I was relieved. Kyle was so much worse than he’d been the day before, and death couldn’t be far off. When it happened, I would need someone to lean on just a little.
After making sure Kyle took some pills, I pulled my blonde hair back to get it out of my face and brushed my teeth, but that was all I bothered doing before putting my flip-flops on. I needed coffee, and while the stuff they had at the diner wasn’t Starbucks, it was going to have to do.
It was barely seven when I stumbled out of the motel room, but I still had to pause when the bright light nearly blinded me.
Kiaya stepped out behind me, shooting a look toward the bed where Kyle thrashed before pulling the door shut.
“Where are you going?” she asked, keeping her voice low even though we were outside now.
“Coffee.” I nodded to the diner across the street. “Breakfast, too, if you want it.”
She shook her head. “I don’t need anything.”
“Not even coffee?”
Kiaya shook her head again.
“I barely slept last night, and I know it couldn’t have been much better for you. You sure you don’t need a pick-me-up?”
“I can get through without it. Plus, I don’t want to run out of money.” She looked down. “This trip is going to take longer than I thought it would.”
“Kiaya,” I said, “it’s coffee from a diner. How much can it be? Two bucks?”
When she looked up, her brown eyes were narrowed. “To some people, two dollars is a lot.”
Far Series (Book 1): Far From Home Page 5