"That's a bunch of bullshit!" Carson spat, kicking the billboard as hard as he could. It did nothing to damage it at all.
"That's not going to change anything genius, but I agree. That's total bullshit." Marena spoke coolly, her hands balled tightly into fists. She was just as infuriated as her best friend.
Shay watched as her friends argued and cursed about what the billboard had said, an idea running through her mind. The media could say whatever they wanted to about them, it wouldn't change the fact they were wanted dead by an entire country. It wouldn't change the fact the government still wanted to kill them. Whatever these people thought of them would change nothing and she knew that, yet seeing the words printed onto a billboard caused a rage to burn within her.
"Katrina, give me the spray paint." She commanded, her tone hard. Katrina shot her look but obliged, lightly tossing the can in her direction. She caught it and uncapped the lid, tossing it over the edge of the platform. It's not like they'd need it anyways.
"Who said you got to draw first?" Katrina whined. "I had a really good idea for mine!"
"Well then save it. You won't have any room when I'm done." The other five around her raised an eyebrow, their quizzical glances making her question if she really wanted to do it.
It took maybe two minutes, but she wasn't trying to be neat- just noticeable. Across all eight faces displayed on the billboard were letters scrawled in black, large enough to make the faces unrecognizable and the words readable. The can of spray paint was now empty, tossed somewhere on the edges of the platform. Shay stood back to admire her work, a blank expression hovering on her face.
"You wasted all our spray paint… On that?" Katrina muttered, her arms crossed. A look of displeasure was etched into her features, lips pursed into a frown.
"Just think about it, Katrina. What they put up there wasn't the entire truth- it was just one point of view. I know you hate it just as much as I do," she shot back, her voice nothing more than a quick growl. She'd used an entire can painting a single sentence across an entire billboard. It seemed small and insignificant, wasteful even, but it got her point across without using too many words-
There's two sides to this story.
Chapter 18
Cold water splashed against her face, chilling her skin upon contact. The wave of sink water receded and Shay took a towel from the countertop, scrubbing the dirt and dried blood from her face. The cut above her eye still throbbed and there seemed to be a little bit of dried blood she couldn't manage to get out of her nose, but otherwise any sign of battle had been washed away.
They were in another cheap motel, getting the rooms similar to what happened last time. She knew what they did might result in another run in with the government, but they were all too tired and bloodied to care. They'd been through a lot in one day.
She walked back over to the bed where Marena law sprawled out. She felt more comfortable having her in the other bed than Jaycee, someone she'd scarcely spoken to since grade school and she was sure the other girl felt the same. The bed sank beneath her as she sat on the edge of the mattress, flopping backwards into a comfortable position.
"Just letting you know, I have the shower next." Marena commanded flatly, keeping her eyes glued absently to the ceiling. Shay sighed in response.
"Whatever. Use all the hot water I kill you." She mumbled as she rolled over, face sinking into the comforter. The scent of detergent wafted into her nostrils, bringing another pang of homesickness rippling through her. She silently cursed the cleaning lady for using the same detergent as the Claire household. Letting her mind wander was really the last thing she needed at the moment.
"I don't doubt it," Marena winked back, a wry grin etched into her features. She couldn't help but laugh, forgetting about the thoughts that had been swirling in her mind moments before.
"Good."
As soon as the words flew out of her mouth the bathroom door clicked shut. Out stepped Carson, his wet hair floppy and sticking to his forehead. He was dressed in fresh clothes, even if the navy shirt and red shorts didn't match. A brief stop at a Salvation Army had provided them with clean clothing, but unfortunately for Carson and Marena no two matching shirts and shorts came in their size, being lean and skinny as they were.
His dark eyes swept over the girls before he ran his fingers through his hair, turning to face the mirror. He messed around with the dusty strands for a few moments before managing to spike them up as he usually wore his hair, even without the gel.
"Can't stand five minutes without looking like a douchebag, can you?" Marena muttered, but the gleam in her hazel eyes showed she was only kidding.
"Think what you like, but Shay's told me on several occasions she likes the spike."
"Carson, I can't be concerned with how your hair looks when you look like a mismatched American flag."
" Murica' baby," he responded loudly, holding his arms out as if to attract more attention to his clothes. "I'm just missing the stars, the stripes, and an eagle." All three of them burst out laughing.
Marena scooted off the bed with a groan, reaching for the yellow t-shirt and lime green running shorts placed neatly on the other bed. She picked them up and held them out in front of her for a few moments, mouth pursed into a frown.
"Carson will be an American flag and I'll be a fucking fruit salad," she growled as she stalked off to the bathroom, swinging the brightly-colored clothes over her shoulder as she did.
"And that leaves Shay. What are you?" Carson mocked as he strode over to the other bed, examining the clothes she'd selected earlier in the day. He picked up the gray shirt and jean shorts and frowned. "How about horrendously average. Yeah, I think that's what you are."
"Whatever, there will probably be blood on them soon enough. Then I can be the British version- horrendously bloody boring."
"Have I ever told you you're a pessimist?"
"I lost track after you decided Sourpuss Shay got old."
Carson grinned, flopping down on the other bed. "Got old? That's never getting old, SS!"
Annoyed, Shay scooped up the television remote from the bedside table and flung it at her boyfriend. Her aim was a little too far to the right, sending the remote sailing through the air right past his head and slamming against the wall. It fell to the carpet with a muted thud. Carson cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at her.
"Remind me to add Aggressive Annie to the list, would you?"
"Oh just shut up!"
He rolled over on the bed and reached down to pick up the remote, flopping back down into the pillows and turning on the tv. He flipped through several stations for a while- apparently there was nothing appealing on at almost one in the morning. Turning over onto her side, she pondered on just falling asleep and showering in the morning. The dirt and dried blood sticking to her skin was revolting and she was positive she stank, but her eyelids were beginning to droop.
Carson finally settled on a channel. She cocked her head to see what was on the screen and instantly felt a frown form on her face. Even if she'd decided to stay up and shower she didn't want to hear recycled stories about her and her friends.
"Change it, I'm getting tired of seeing my face on CNN," she growled at him, ready to spring up and steal the remote. South Park surely was on somewhere.
"Well, that's you. I like seeing mine," he retorted, tucking the remote under his butt. He looked over at her and grinned as their eyes met. "I know you. I know exactly what you were thinking about doing." She grinned, even though slightly annoyed- she couldn't help it. He knew exactly how to push all of her buttons but still make her laugh anyways.
"And now, an update from the scene of a bloody shoot-out that occurred this morning sometime after eleven am. It was confirmed early on the perpetrators of this event were no other than the Carriers, leaving six dead, several more wounded, and two infected."
Shay felt her blood run cold as the voice of the reporter radiated from the television. A small sound that sou
nded like a squeak escaped her throat, her eyes widening. She rolled over to get a better view of the screen- she needed to hear every last word those people said.
The screen showed images of the bar, taken recently as the sky was black. Crime scene tape had roped off the entrance from the public. She wasn't sure if her eyes deceived her, but she believed she saw a body bag off in the corner of one of the shots.
"In light of what happened this morning we are yet again raising the bounties. We are not one-hundred percent on which certain Carriers were involved, but a few of the witnesses have given us good ideas," a man stated. He was older, dressed far too formal to be a cop. The cold look in his eyes sent a shiver up her spine- he was another one of them. This man was another agent. "The bounty on Claire has been raised to one hundred and thirty five thousand, McGrew's to one hundred ten thousand, and O'dell's to one hundred ten thousand as well. We are not sure if these were the only individuals involved, but this was the best we could do from eyewitness accounts." The hate that burned in his eyes almost made her heart stop beating- even through a tv screen it was fatally obvious he wanted them dead. Not captured, but dead.
"After the shoot-out this morning about seventy miles south of the scene a billboard displaying the faces of the perpetrators was vandalized." The image returned to the female anchor for a few moments before flashing to a photograph of the billboard from earlier, her message still written valiantly across every face. "Although we can't be sure, the message written- "There's two sides to this story" was most likely painted by the Carriers. If they really think the world will show them any sympathy, they are wrong. The government continues to increase the amount of agents deployed to search for them and all local police forces remain vigilant. At this moment they remain at large. If it is possible, remember to stay indoors if you are in the areas of risk."
That was when Carson chucked the remote as hard as he could at the tv, smacking and shattering the screen and knocking it backwards off the dresser.
"That's a bunch of bullshit! It's all bullshit! They can't call us by our first names or understand we only do what we do so we don't get killed!" He shouted, an angry expression etched into his features. "Freakin' media asswipes."
Stunned by his sudden outburst Shay eyed him cautiously, eyes round with shock. She could hear the tv spitting out static from wherever it had fallen, obviously broken beyond repair. Getting up from one bed and moving to the other she sat down beside him.
"Calm down. It's just a news report. They can say whatever they want. We know the truth." She said as soothingly as possible. She'd never seen him that angry the entire time she'd known him, which was since he moved there in the middle of seventh grade year. Everybody was changing- she wasn't sure she liked it.
"But what if everyone back home sees it and decides to side with the rest of the world, Shay? Then what? All our friends that aren't here now will turn their backs on us. Our families will abandon us. There won't be anything worth returning to." He replied, his tone solemn. Carson tilted his head upwards so he could look into her eyes. He wasn't nearly as angry as he was scared, she realized.
"Our true friends know we aren't killers. They know we don't have our heads on straight, but they know we aren't like this. I would think the same of our families. What scares me is that we still might now have anything to return to."
"And why would that be?" He asked, although she could tell by the look in his dark eyes he knew the answer. She pursed her lips; not wanting the words to leave her mouth, for if they did it would mean admitting it would happen. She did not want to succumb to the thoughts that had plagued her mind since the start.
"That there won't be anything left to go home to because they're all dead."
"Something told me you were going to say that."
"I am Sourpuss Shay, after all."
Carson smiled a little and so did she, only it didn't feel genuine. They couldn't really laugh when thoughts of what became of their family and friends were coursing through their brains. He took hold of her hand and parted his lips to say something when the bathroom door was closed with an audible slam, cutting him off.
"I hate to break up the festivities, but the shower's open," Marena crowed, running a brush through her wet hair as she made her way to the bed. She looked to the dresser and raised an eyebrow. "Someone please tell me where the tv went?"
Not wanting to get stuck in the argument between Marena and Carson on the matter of why the hell he'd broken the tv she quickly stood up, grabbed her fresh clothes and shouldered past her best friend, walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind her. Hot steam was still permeating throughout the room- Marena had even left the shower running. How thoughtful, she thought as she stripped off her bloody clothing and stepped in.
The hot water rushed over, starting to wash away any dried blood and dirt she hadn't been able to reach before. She stood under the stream for a few minutes before the sounds of conversation died from the other side of the wall. Sitting down, she buried her face in her knees and cried, sobs drowned out by the noise of the water. She'd been holding it in for far too long and all the emotions that had remained bottled up flowed out all at once, an overpowering wave even she didn't see coming. Shay was strong, she knew it well enough not to have to remind herself to be, but even the greatest heroes have moments of weakness.
It had to have been nearly an hour later before she emerged, hair wet and sticking to the back of her fresh gray shirt. There was no light slipping in from under the door, which meant Carson and Marena must have fallen asleep sometime while she was in the shower- it was nearly two a.m. at that point, after all.
She slipped out of the bathroom, softly closing the door behind her. Once she did she immediately regretted her decision, for the entire motel room was bathed in an inky blackness. After spending the last several days running from imminent death she liked to be able to see where she was going. There was never a moment one couldn't be sure they were safe- that state of mind had always been proved false.
Fumbling her way through the darkness she found her way to the other bed, dropping her wet towel somewhere on the floor as she did. She lightly slid the covers over her body, trying to find a comfortable position when Carson was taking up more than half the bed. His snoring was making it just a little too tempting to take the spare pillow and stuff it over his face. Next time I'm getting in first, she growled silently.
"Psst, Shay!"
Blinking a few times to adjust her eyes to the darkness, she found the skinny outline of Marena hovering at the foot of her bed. It was too dark to make out facial expressions or see anything besides her figure, but it wasn't hard to sense something was plaguing her.
Marena motioned towards the door and began to walk towards it, her feet making no sound over the carpet. Sensing this wasn't something meant to include Carson and his sarcastic comments she carefully slipped out of bed, moving as quietly as possible behind the other blonde. As if to confirm her thoughts Marena stopped, pointed to Carson's sleeping figure and shook her head.
She cracked the door open, allowing an orange beam of light from outside to slip into the room. As the girls squeezed through the door they opened it just a little too much and the light hit Carson's face- he groaned in his sleep and turned to the other side. Shay softly closed the door, the lock clicking into place behind her.
"That was close," Marena said with a sigh, pausing for a moment before making her way over to the railing. She placed her hands on it and gazed out at the parking lot. Off in the distance lightning sparked from clouds, the rolling sound of thunder faint but growing louder. Besides the wind buffeting the leaves on the trees nothing moved. It was totally still. If the temperature hadn't been dropping and her hair wasn't sopping wet she might have considered going on a walk.
"What is it?" She asked, her voice cracking from tiredness. Marena's back was to her, and after a few seconds she began to ponder if the wind had drowned her out. Waiting for a response she moved her eyes to
the oncoming storm, eyeing the brilliant bolts of light nervously. She didn't want to be out here when that storm hit. Whatever Marena needed she best say it fast.
"I've got to ask you something," she finally responded, voice nothing more than a whisper in the wind. She took a few steps forwards until she was side by side with her best friend, gazing off into the distance just as she was.
"Ask away." She responded blankly, although her words seemed to be a loss on Marena. Her eyes were still transfixed on the lightning display in the distance as if nothing had been said at all.
"If I get killed, I want you to be the one that tells my family." Her voice was so flat, so nonchalant, it almost took Shay aback. Sure, she thought about what would happen in the case of her death, but she didn't speak of it with such ease. She parted her lips to sputter out something when Marena turned her head and looked her dead in the eyes, visage devoid of expression. "But if you infect any of my family members I will return from hell and drag you back with me."
"You wouldn't need to drag me, I'll end up there anyways," she replied, unsure if those last words were serious or not. The two shared a dark sense of humor, but when she didn't smile it got hard to determine between joke and seriousness. "And besides, what makes you think that they won't be a Carrier or Immune? You are. Shouldn't they be too?"
Carriers Page 15