Apokalypsis Book Three

by Kate Morris

  “Yeah, they’re a size small. I thought you said…”

  He frowned, “She had to buy some smaller sizes when she got sicker. I forgot about that. Glad they fit, though.”

  “I’ll be fine till my clothes dry. Then I should go.”

  He shook his head and walked closer, noticing that her hair was curling on the ends as it dried. “No, you should stay here, Wren. I don’t want you to go home. At least if we’re together, I know you’re safe.”

  “So?” she asked, her accent making a full appearance. “What do you care, Golden Boy?”

  He smiled. “I wish I knew. Hey,” he said, changing the subject. “Are you hungry?”

  She shrugged, still eyeing him about his suggestion of spending the night. She clearly didn’t want to, nor did he really want her to because it made him speculate what sex with her would be like. However, keeping her safe until her uncle was home was the least he could do to return the favor of her selflessly staying at the hospital for him.

  “Just stay tonight then,” he said. “I think you were right about the animals.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I was outside cleaning our cars, all the neighborhood animals and some that were clearly not domesticated types of animals were making all kinds of noise out there. Even the birds and crows and animals that are normally quiet at night.” This got her attention. “I think they sense when those sick people are around. I’ve been hearing noises from animals that you don’t normally hear in the city. Maybe out where you live but not in town.”

  Her eyes lowered as she thought about this. When she raised them again to look at Elijah, he was struck by how close they were to the same color as the sweater.

  “Like in the school, those birds,” she pondered.

  He nodded. “Yeah, like the birds in the biology lab. I think the animals can sense when there’s trouble, when one of those crazy people is near.”

  He watched a chill run through her.

  Finally, she nodded. “I’m only staying until my clothes are dry.”

  He knew that’s all he was going to get from her. “Deal. Come on. I’ll make us some food.”

  She followed him down the stairs to the kitchen where Elijah heated up chicken fingers and fries in the toaster oven. He wasn’t able to eat before the game, and his performance was definitely off. They’d still pulled off a win, though.

  They sat at the table in the kitchen and discussed the information they’d learned so far about this sickness. They went back and forth for a while until the oven dinged. Then he made their plates. She took two pieces of chicken back off of hers and transferred them to his plate.

  “I don’t eat that much, football boy,” she said in a teasing tone. “I’m not trying to bulk up for something.”

  He laughed. “Funny you should say that. I’m still not where my coaches want me yet.”

  “Seriously?” she asked with surprise and stared at his chest. He still hadn’t put on a shirt. He was always hot, his metabolism running on high all the time. Even in the winter he walked around in the house without a shirt or socks.

  “Yeah, my trainer and coach want me at two-fifty or so.”

  “As in pounds?”

  “Not kilograms,” he joked and got a wry grin. “Isn’t that what you Aussies use? The metric system?” He got a nasty look in return.

  “Don’t be a drongo.”

  “A what-oh?”

  She giggled, actually giggled. It made her somehow even cuter. Elijah tried not to groan. Man, he needed to get a grip.

  “Stick to football, Golden Boy.”

  “Hey, what’d we agree on about that?”

  She stared up at him with a challenge in her aqua eyes. Elijah had the overwhelming urge to kiss her, so he looked away and offered her barbeque sauce for dipping her chicken, which she refused. They went back to the table and ate in silence until the meal was coming to a close. She pushed her plate away after eating only one chicken strip, so Elijah finished her other one.

  “I don’t understand what they meant by RF1 and 2. What’s that mean, Elijah?”

  He shrugged. “I think it’s supposed to stand for Russian Flu, or at least that’s what I got out of it.”

  “Do you think they’re right? I mean, about it getting out of control?”

  He hadn’t been able to get that out of his mind, either. “I’m not sure, Wren. If they are right, then everything could change.”

  “And really fast, too,” she said and paused, obviously thinking about something. “You were right, I think.”

  “About what?”

  “You said you thought it was mutating people’s DNA. It kind of sounded like that’s what the doctors were saying, too. A few of them even said the word ‘mutate’.”

  “I’m not sure. They said the virus mutated, though.”

  She nodded and pulled her mostly dry hair around her shoulder and twisted it around and around into a big wave. He didn’t think she was doing it to be seductive or flirty. She was just thinking. It was still seductive and sexy. Maybe he needed another shower, a cold one.

  “Yes, but you and I have seen them,” she finally said, still messing with her hair, which made Elijah want to, too. “They are mutated. They’re not human anymore, except your brother. He’s not like them. Hey, maybe he doesn’t have this.”

  “I think he does. You said that nurse said he tested positive for RF1. His eyes were bloodshot. The fevers. I think he was coughing up blood, too.”

  “Yeah, I saw it on the bathroom floor. Don’t worry. I cleaned that.”

  “Crap, sorry about that. I forgot…”

  “It’s fine. I’m not usually squeamish.”

  He smiled. “Unless you’re on a carousel.”

  She grinned and blushed. “Yeah.”

  “But they told you he’s RF1 positive. They’ve got him in the wing with the other sick ones.”

  “Yes, but he’s not locked up like those crazy ones in the video that girl filmed.”

  “No, he’s not like that,” he said. “Yet.”

  Her hand shot out and rested on his knee. “Hey, don’t think like that. We don’t know enough to assume he’s going to become like one of those things.”

  He nodded and jumped when his phone buzzed in the pocket of his sweatpants. He quickly dug it out. “It’s just Jeremy. The school is postponing the homecoming dance till next weekend. It’s supposed to be tomorrow night. That’s strange.”

  “Is it?” she asked and tipped her head to the left as if she didn’t find it odd at all.

  “Yeah, I’ve never heard of anything like that before. Maybe it’s because of this flu,” he questioned and sent Jeremy a return text asking why. “He says he doesn’t know but that we better be there.”

  “‘We’?”

  “Yes, you and I,” he answered honestly. “I already told him that we were going together.”

  She scowled hard and angry at him, “I never agreed to that.”

  “Actually you did when you were shoving me out your window, remember?”

  She snorted and rose to take her plate to the sink. “That doesn’t count. I was under duress.”

  “This isn’t a court trial, prosecutor,” he joked. “Your ‘under duress’ argument isn’t going to hold water.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Not going.”

  He picked up her phone from the dinner table and touched the screen, getting it to turn on. “I could call your uncle and ask him.”

  She flew at him and nearly took them both down by tipping his chair backward, she hit him so hard.

  “Give me that!”

  “Easy,” he said and stood, letting her body slide down off of his while keeping her phone out of reach. “Why so paranoid?”

  “Give me that back right now!”

  Elijah stepped up on the chair’s seat so she couldn’t reach at all and hit the button for the stored photographs. His laughter and smile faded instantly. He only caught sight of one photo before she was on the
chair and reaching for it. He quickly hit the ‘home’ button again.

  “Here,” he said, handing it to her as they both stepped down again. She actually had to hop down. “I was just messin’ with you.”

  Her voice sounded hoarse and even cracked when she replied, “That’s not funny.”

  “Sorry,” he replied and laid a hand against the side of her downturned head. She was making sure he hadn’t seen anything before shutting it back off.

  “It’s okay,” she said and chewed her lower lip nervously. “I just don’t like anyone getting into my phone. Plus, you can’t turn on the internet or change any of the filters.”

  “Why not? Is your uncle worried you’ll sit around watching porn?” he teased.

  She turned around and said, “I’m tired. I don’t want to argue. I just wanna’ wait for my clothes to dry.” “Sure,” he said, realizing she wasn’t going to tell him anything, as usual. “We can watch the news if you want. See if they’re reporting this flu stuff while we wait.”

  She nodded, and Elijah led her to the den where he placed the shotgun on the coffee table in front of the couch.

  It was nearly one-thirty in the morning, but he was wired. He also figured it didn’t matter if he used the internet on his phone since those doctors predicted an end-times event with this flu. Next month if the phone bill came and he was way over on internet time, he’d tell the coach to pay the bill. They would, too. He’d just tell them that he needed it to watch game videos to make improvements. He did internet searches while the twenty-four-hour news channel played on the television above the fireplace. She sat as far on the other side of the leather sofa from him as she could.

  He tossed her a throw blanket from the back of the couch.

  “Thanks,” she said and pulled it over her body and tucked her feet up under her.

  He scrolled for an hour on the internet looking for stories on the flu and found some on that same site they’d looked at the other night in the school’s tech center. It was basically the same stuff over and over. Nobody knew anything for sure other than that a lot of people were dead and more were predicted to be so. The news was reporting on the flu, had a panel on to discuss/argue about it, but they were all being very vague.

  Elijah excused himself to put their clothes in the dryer and tried not to gawk at her underclothes mixed in with his things. He checked the first floor again and turned out the lights. He returned to his den to find her asleep, her head resting on the arm of the sofa, so he turned off his phone, put it on the charger, and clicked off the lamp on the stand next to him.

  Elijah took the other sofa and laid there for a while in the dark thinking about Alex and praying for him. If God existed, and their minister sure believed He did, then Elijah hoped He was open for business tonight and could hear him.

  Then he thought about that picture he’d seen on Wren’s phone. It was definitely of her when she was younger. She was holding a surfboard and giving the hang-ten symbol with her fingers while wearing a pale blue bikini. It wasn’t necessarily sexy, though. She looked about twelve or thirteen. Huge blue waves were crashing in the ocean behind her, and the water was nearly the same color as her eyes. He’d been to the ocean before in Florida and South Carolina, but the ocean never looked like that, the waves never that big or the water so turquoise. Beside her was a young boy, probably ten or eleven, and a girl who looked even younger. He wanted to know more about that picture, but he knew he wasn’t going to. Maybe ever. She was not forthcoming about her life or any aspect of it.

  Elijah finally rolled over and crashed from exhaustion with so much on his mind and so many questions buzzing through his brain.

  “Elijah, wake up!” she whispered as she shook his shoulder.

  He jerked to a sitting position to find Wren squatted beside him and the room pitch black. The t.v. was off, must’ve timed out and shut itself off. Her phone was on, the dim home screen light the only light in the den.

  “Did you hear that?” she asked with wide eyes, to which he sprang to his feet on the hardwood floor. “Somebody’s in your house!”

  “What…” he whispered and was cut off as his brain registered that she really had heard something.

  “Shh!” she said, holding her finger to her lips.

  Wren stared at the door and held onto the back of his bicep as if she were afraid. In her other hand was her pistol. How and when she picked it up and from where he didn’t know. But she had it hanging from her left hand.

  She’d actually heard something. Now he heard it, too. Something. A banging or clattering coming from…the backyard? The front porch? The dining room? He wasn’t sure.

  It wasn’t partial to only men or women but was an equal opportunity serial killer. She’d seen children with the sickness, too. So far, they didn’t seem to contract the mutated version. Usually, the RF1 virus took them down, though, and quickly. The mortality rate among children was even higher. She wondered if all children would eventually be wiped out from it.

  The roof had leaked last night as water streamed down through the holes and missing pieces of slate roofing. It was puddling in some places on the hardwood floor of the second-floor hallway. They had fixed it yesterday but must’ve missed something. They couldn’t stay here forever. This was temporary. All places were temporary now. They’d already moved quite a bit. She wished they knew somewhere safe, somewhere permanent. She knew Ohio had terrible winters with lots of snow and ice and blizzards, too. They wouldn’t make it more than a week into that kind of weather.

  She looked around the room at the group of people with whom she was surviving. A few coughed. Were they infected or just sick from the cold air? Would they infect the rest of them?

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Stay here, Wren,” he warned. Elijah was holding his father’s shotgun. He opened the box of shells and shoved three into the gun. She hoped he knew how to use it. She did. “Lock the door.”

  “I don’t want to,” she said. “I’m leaving. I’m not staying here another second.”

  She went to the leaded windows and peered out. She’d already scoped that out as a possible exit if she needed it to be. She could shimmy out the window and drop to the ground.

  “Hey, are you crazy?” he whispered and grabbed her arm.

  “I’m not staying here,” she reiterated.

  He looked ready to argue but stopped as another crashing sound filtered through the floor below their feet.

  “I think someone’s in your house,” she repeated in a forceful whisper.

  “I’m going out there,” he said without batting an eye.

  This frustrated Wren to the point of groaning low in her throat. Why were men like this? Why didn’t they just run?

  She nodded. “If you’re going, I’m going.”

  “Dammit,” he swore angrily, actually scaring her. “Fine, just stay close. I don’t want to accidentally shoot you.”

  Wren followed him to the door where he paused before cracking it open. It creaked, and she wanted to bolt out the window.

  Elijah went slowly until they got to the foyer. Another ruckus on the first floor somewhere startled her, making Wren jump. He looked over his shoulder at her and gave a single nod. Then he started down the beautiful hallway with the rich wainscoting she’d thought was so great. Now, it seemed like something could be around the end of it. Nothing was. They made it to the kitchen and back door safely where he looked out a window and made sure the door was locked.

  She jumped when the gong of the grandfather clock in the dining room chimed the quarter-hour mark. They walked into that room, and he checked it. The dining room was also empty.

  Then she jumped because a screaming-screeching voice outside the front door frightened the hell out of her. It went on for so long that she felt the overwhelming urge to put her hands over her ears. Then whatever was out there banged into the front door with force. It was a thick old door. Nothing would get through it that way. She hoped.

  Then another simil
ar pounding sound came from the back door where they entered through the mudroom earlier. It wasn’t a polite knock to alert them a guest was coming over. The sound was erratic and forceful. Elijah rushed there with the shotgun out in front of him. They had to pass through the formal sitting room to get there, and he checked it as he went as if he had experience doing a sweep of his surroundings, which surprised her.

  It seemed as if the house were actually empty because the doors were still locked. Then she heard glass break, a window. Elijah’s hand shot out behind him, found her hip, and gave it gentle pressure to make sure she didn’t pass him. Together, they moved toward the source of the noise, returning to the front door and past it into the den again. It was such a cozy, comfortable room. Obviously. She’d fallen asleep like an idiot. The room was entirely too comfortable, including the leather sofas. A round poker table rested in one designated area in the corner. It had a green felt top and a place for poker chips at each position.

  The expensive gaming table wasn’t what caught her attention, though. It was the hand of a man reaching through the broken leaded glass trying to unlock the window.

  “Hey!” Elijah yelled. “I’ve got a gun. Get the hell outta’ here!”

  His voice was deep and commanding. He sounded like he was calling for the ball to be hiked on the football field. It was intimidating. The man didn’t stop. He growled. He actually growled. It sounded like a dog, a big one.

  Elijah didn’t stop, either. He stampeded over there like a bull and rammed the butt of the shotgun down onto the man’s hand. He howled in pain and pulled back out of the window. Then their situation got even stranger, and a thousand times scarier.

  She grew up watching nature shows, loved learning about new animals and different habitats, anything that had to do with animals. Of course, being a beach bum, she loved the ocean, too. As she grew older and her studies about the animal kingdom became more sophisticated, she learned that not all animals were solitary hunters. Many hunted in packs. Wolves, hyenas, killer whales, even chimpanzees hunted in groups to achieve the end result with less effort. It was nature’s way. Humans were lone hunters, though. When they wanted to shoot a deer during hunting season, they simply went out and did it. They didn’t need to hunt with others. Humans had weapons that more than leveled the playing field. They were technologically advanced over the animal world. There was no need to hunt as a pack. Elijah had just proven that. He only needed that shotgun, not her, not a group of men to help him. That wasn’t the weird part.