By the time Kiaya returned to relieve me, I was ready to scream. It made me feel horrible and selfish, but I couldn’t help it. The room had gotten stuffy despite the air conditioning, and my hair clung to the back of my neck while every inch of my body was grimy with sweat. There was an undeniable sickness to the air, too, and I felt like I was breathing it in. It wouldn’t matter—either I was immune or I wasn’t—but filling my lungs with the tainted air had me jumpy and desperate for oxygen that wasn’t teeming with germs, and the second the door opened and Kiaya stepped in, I was on my feet.
“You’re back,” I said, the words coming out sounding more like an accusation than the desperation I’d meant to convey.
As usual, Kiaya showed very little emotion when she nodded. “Sorry, I got busy reading and lost track of time.”
She tossed her textbook on the nearby bed—I couldn’t figure out why she’d bothered with it—and I was able to see the cover for the first time. Physics. It sounded like the most unlikely reading material to get lost in.
“It’s okay.” I glanced toward Kyle, who was having a rare moment of silent agony. “I’m just going stir crazy.”
“I get it,” she said then nodded to the door. “Take a break. I’ll be here.”
My gaze moved to the bathroom, and I cringed when I thought about how filthy I was, but I just couldn’t handle the thought of staying in the room a minute longer. Not even to shower. It wasn’t like me, I was always made up and clean and put together, and stepping toward the door and away from the shower wasn’t exactly easy, but I told myself it didn’t matter. The world was falling down around me, and I didn’t have anyone to impress.
“I’ll be back in a couple hours,” I said, pausing at the door. “I’ll bring dinner.”
Kiaya nodded, but her focus was already on Kyle. “Okay.”
Stepping out of the dark motel room and into the bright, Texas day was shocking to my system. It was like I’d stepped into another dimension, because the bright, sunny day greeting me shouldn’t exist in the same world as the death and suffering I’d just left behind.
I squinted and lifted my hand to my forehead, trying to block out the light as I looked around. The parking lot was just as full as it had been earlier, but there seemed to be fewer people out and about. There was an ambulance parked to my right, its lights off but its back doors open. One of the rooms also had its door open as well, and the muscled guy I’d seen earlier was sitting beside it, in the same chair as before. He wore an identical expression on his face as three exhausted looking EMTs carried a stretcher out of the room. A black body bag was strapped to it.
Without thinking about it, I found myself moving in that direction, my heart beating faster until it pounded in my ears. I’d only taken a few steps when the inside of the ambulance came into view, and the sight made me freeze. There were other bags inside. A lot of them. They were piled up, one on top of the other like a pyramid of death.
My stomach convulsed, and I turned away from the sight only to find my gaze focused on a gray sedan. I’d seen it earlier, had noticed the man behind the wheel who was clearly sick and suffering. Not anymore. Now he was unmoving, his head back and his eyes closed, all the life drained out of him. His body nothing but a shell.
It was heartbreaking, devastating. Seeing this stranger alone in his car, probably far away from everyone who loved him. Did they know where he was? Would they survive this virus only to spend the rest of their lives wondering if he was okay?
Was that Mom’s fate? Dad’s? Mine?
I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and hit the button, lighting up the screen and revealing a picture from last spring break. I was standing on the beach with a group of friends, all of us in tiny bikinis. We were smiling, our arms around one another as the ocean shimmered at our backs. It seemed like another lifetime.
According to my phone, it was a little after three o’clock. I still felt fine. My head pounded, but it probably had more to do with stress, because I had no other symptoms. No sore throat, no aching bones, no runny nose. I’d felt worse after a night of partying.
Did that mean I was okay?
“God,” I mumbled, still staring at the time, “let me be okay. Let me get home to find my parents okay.”
I clicked the button, and my phone went black. Three more hours, and I could feel more confident in my fate. Then I would call my mom.
6
As much as I dreaded it, I headed back to our room around seven-thirty, two burgers in hand. The sun was getting low, moving toward the horizon and painting the sky bright colors that contrasted with the dark mood hanging over me. I was so focused on it that I’d made it halfway across the parking lot before I noticed Kiaya. She was sitting on the ground beside our door, her knees pulled up and her arms wrapped around them, hugging them to her chest. She was watching me, her eyes for once not empty, and the expression in them told me everything I needed to know.
“He’s gone,” I said when I was still five feet away.
She nodded as she pulled herself to her feet. “About twenty minutes ago. I was going to come looking for you, but I just—” Her voice broke.
“I get it.” I exhaled, not sure what else to say about Kyle, but knowing there was a question I needed to ask her. “How do you feel?”
“Fine,” she said with a shrug. “At least physically. You?”
“Same,” I replied flatly.
The burgers were hot, and the greasy scent strong enough to make my stomach growl, but it felt so wrong. Being hungry when Kyle would never eat again. Plus, where would we eat? I couldn’t even imagine going into the room, let alone eating in there. It was too sick and twisted.
Kiaya’s gaze was focused on the bag of food, and I could tell she was also struggling with what to do next. Maybe it was wrong or maybe it was just human nature, but I couldn’t let the food go to waste. Especially not with the way things were. Who knew when we’d be able to get a hot meal again? Who knew what we’d face once we got on the road?
I scanned the area, my gaze landing on the fenced-in pool in the center of the parking lot. I’d barely given it a thought before now, too focused on death and illness, but suddenly the crystal blue water with the shimmering pinks and oranges of the sunset reflecting off it looked inviting. Even better, there were a couple tables beside it where we could sit and eat, then discuss our next move.
“This way,” I said, nodding toward the pool.
Kiaya followed me without comment, and I found my gaze moving to where the ambulance had been earlier, thinking about the body bags I’d seen and also about the guy. Our deadline for getting sick had come and gone, which was more than a relief, but with it had come a new and equally terrifying question. Were we alone? I didn’t think so. The people in the diner, the group who’d told me about the virus, had been immune, and the muscled guy had looked healthy. That was something, at least. Although what, I didn’t yet know. I just liked knowing Kiaya and I wouldn’t be the only two people to survive this thing.
We settled around a table beside the pool and ate our burgers in silence. I felt like it should have been one of those moments I’d read about where a person ate on autopilot, barely tasting their food because the heaviness of the situation they found themselves in was too great, but it wasn’t. The burger was thick and greasy and utterly delicious, and I savored every bite. Kiaya, too, seemed to be enjoying it, and for a few minutes, we were able to focus on the act of eating and push everything else aside.
I finished first, balling the wrapper up when I had, the crinkling of the paper seeming loud in the silence surrounding us. A few minutes later, Kiaya took her last bite and did the same, and when she looked up and our eyes met, the uncertainty and tension came screaming back.
“What now?” she asked, her voice quiet.
“We need to call someone to get the body. Let them worry about how to get him home.” I winced because even to my ears it sounded callous, but to be honest, I was just ready to be done with th
e responsibility of taking care of Kyle.
Kiaya nodded, and her hair, once again pulled into a ponytail, bobbed. “Yeah, okay. Who, though?”
“There was an ambulance here earlier,” I told her. “Removing bodies.”
She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Bodies?”
“Yeah,” was all I could say.
I stood, pushing my chair back harder than I needed to, and the metal legs scraped against the cement. The sounded echoed through the air, making me look around the way I had in my dorm room. It also had my scalp prickling as I remembered the feeling from that day. The fear that someone was sneaking up on me, the terror of being all alone and stalked. Like Kiaya, I shivered.
“The guy in the office can probably tell us who to call,” I said, working to hide my unease.
“Good idea,” she replied
She stood as I headed for the gate, following me away from the pool and across the parking lot to the motel’s office. We passed the Coke machine where only last night I’d had my little breakdown, and once again I thought about the guy, wondering who he’d been traveling with. Who he’d lost.
The same man who’d been behind the desk the night before looked up when we walked into the office, but now his eyes were bloodshot and sickly. As always, it made me want to shy away, and I had to remind myself we were in the clear. Kiaya and I were going to be okay. At least in regard to the virus.
“We need a body removed,” I said, wanting to get right to the point.
The man turned his head and let out a hacking cough before saying, “No dice. They stopped answering calls an hour ago. Recording says they’re all sick.”
“All sick?” Kiaya repeated.
“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a bug going around,” the man said bitterly.
Kiaya’s back stiffened, and the same light I’d seen earlier when the asshole looked her up and down flashed in her eyes.
I stepped in front of her before she could say anything. “What are we supposed to do?”
“Get in your car and pray this thing don’t catch up with you,” he growled.
He had to turn his head away again, but this time the coughing went on longer. A lot longer.
Kiaya shifted when it didn’t stop, looking uncomfortable, and I found myself stepping back despite the pep talk I’d given myself.
When the man finally stopped coughing, he focused feverish eyes on us but said nothing.
“We need to get a night of rest before we go,” I said, focusing on Kiaya. “Right?”
“Yeah…”
She let the word hang, and I knew why. We couldn’t sleep in that room with Kyle’s body. It was too creepy.
I focused on the man. “Do you have another room we can have? Just for the night?”
“Got a couple recently vacated rooms.” He lifted his eyebrows, letting me know why they were recently vacated, and I shuddered. “They ain’t been cleaned, and I got nobody to do it, but I can give you fresh sheets if you’re willing to change the beds yourself.”
It sounded awful, but a lot less awful than sleeping in the room with Kyle’s body.
I looked toward Kiaya. “What do you think?”
“I can’t drive tonight,” she said. “I’m exhausted.”
“Me too,” I replied then turned back to the man. “We’ll take it.”
He nodded, and when I reached into my purse, waved me off. “Look at me. What am I gonna do with your money? I’ll be dead in a day. Keep it. I hope it gets you where you need to go.”
My hands dropped to my sides. “Thank you.”
I hadn’t thought this gruff, unfriendly man could have made me cry, but I’d been wrong. Tears pooled in my eyes as he headed to the back room, refusing to be held at bay, and I swiped them away. It was touching, finding kindness in the least probable place when you least expected it.
We left the office, fresh sheets in hand, and headed to room eighteen. It was right next to the one I’d seen the muscled guy sitting outside of only a couple hours earlier, and I couldn’t help wondering if it had been his friends who’d died here.
The room was stuffy and stank of sweat and sickness, so we propped the door open using a chair. We got to work stripping one of the beds, then worked together to remake it, not saying a word. We were still going to have to go to our old room to get our things, and I was mentally preparing myself for it. Kiaya probably was, too. Having to see Kyle, no longer suffering but motionless and drained of life, was going to suck.
The sun had set completely by then, lowering the temperature significantly. It cooled my sweaty skin, causing goose bumps to pop up on my bare arms and legs, but was actually refreshing after the long, hot day. We left the door propped open since no one was around and we had nothing in the room for anyone to steal, then headed across the parking lot. Kiaya was as quiet and thoughtful as usual, something I had almost gotten used to. It wasn’t like I was in a talkative mood, anyway.
We’d just reached our motel room when the door next to us burst open and someone rushed out. I recognized the doctor from the diner and stopped walking.
“Doctor!”
He skidded to a stop almost reluctantly, his eyes wide and frantic as he looked around. When he saw me, it seemed to take a few seconds for him to register who I was. Once he had, he blinked and said, “You’re okay.”
“Fine.” I shrugged. “No symptoms.”
“That’s good,” he said. “Good.”
He seemed oddly distracted, and I could only assume it had to do with his sick friend.
“Your friend, is she dead?”
“No.” He let out a slightly manic, slightly exhausted laugh. “In fact, I think she has something else. Strep throat, maybe? I’m not positive, but I’m going to get her some antibiotics just in case.”
“That’s great,” I said, but my voice fell flat. I couldn’t help thinking of Kyle, dead in our motel room, his body growing colder by the second.
“Your friend?” the doctor asked. “Is he...”
He acted like he couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Died,” I said. “A couple hours ago.”
The doctor’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.”
He let out a breath and took a step away from us. “I need to go.”
“I know. Good luck.”
“Thank you,” he said before turning away and dashing toward a big, dark blue Nissan Armada.
I turned back to find Kiaya watching him.
“That was the doctor you met?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
All she did was nod before heading for our old room.
We paused outside the closed door to gather our courage, sharing a look of support but saying nothing. Kiaya had the key out, and she took a deep breath as she slid it into the lock. She turned it, and the door clicked, and I braced myself, not sure what to expect. The stink of death, maybe? It had only been a few hours, but I had no clue how long it took for a body to start to smell. I’d never needed to know. Why would I? Now, I found myself wishing I had some knowledge of the decomposition process. It wasn’t like Kyle’s was the last body I was going to run into. With eighty-five percent of the population dropping from this thing, there were bound to be more than a few dead bodies in my future. As much as I hated to admit it.
“You ready?” Kiaya asked.
I nodded as I sucked in a deep breath, giving myself a silent pep talk as well.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside, and I forced myself to follow. The room looked exactly the same as it had when I left a few hours ago. My suitcase was on the floor, flipped open and the once neat contents ransacked. Kiaya’s small duffle bag sat beside the old tube television, none of the contents visible, and her textbook was right where she’d tossed it. Kyle’s book bag sat on the floor beside the bed, untouched since he’d been too sick to do anything but sleep and moan. He, too, hadn’t moved. Not that I would have expected him to. His body lay in the
bed, the thin sheet pulled up to cover his head. I could only assume Kiaya had done that after he’d taken his last breath, and I was both touched by her thoughtfulness and thankful I didn’t have to see him.
“Let’s get our stuff and get the hell out of here,” I said, hurrying to my suitcase.
Thankfully, I hadn’t taken much out of it, and after grabbing my toiletry items off the sink and tossing them in, I was able to zip my suitcase and right it. Kiaya, having very little to begin with, was already waiting by the door, and I headed her way. On instinct, though, I paused to give Kyle one last look.
“He was a nice guy,” I said, suddenly feeling like he deserved a few words even if I didn’t really know what to say.
“He was,” Kiaya agreed.
“I promised I’d call his family.” I sighed at the memory. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to have to tell them he’s dead.”
“I know,” she whispered.
I tore my gaze from Kyle’s body so I could focus on her. “Do you think it matters?”
“I think,” she said slowly, as if trying to decide what to say, “they might not even be alive, but a promise is a promise.”
“Yeah,” I replied, letting out a deep sigh. “You’re right.”
“I can do it for you. If you want.” She shrugged when I gave her a questioning look. “I know you need to call your parents, and it’s not like I have anyone to check in with.”
“Are you sure? It’s going to suck.”
“I’m sure,” she said.
“Thanks,” I mumbled as I knelt beside his book bag and dug through the small pockets until I located his cell phone.
I hit the button, but having gone nearly two days without being charged, it was, of course, dead, so I slipped it in my back pocket as I stood. Before turning to leave, I paused to look at Kyle one final time. Through the sheet, only the outline of his body was visible, which I was more than grateful for. It was creepy enough without actually having to see him. Like something from a movie.
A shiver ran down my spine, and I turned away from him.
Far Series (Book 1): Far From Home Page 7