Eat the Ones You Love (The Thirteen Book 2)

Home > Other > Eat the Ones You Love (The Thirteen Book 2) > Page 7
Eat the Ones You Love (The Thirteen Book 2) Page 7

by J. L. Murray


  She didn’t even scream when Jenny plunged the knife through her eye.

  Jenny kicked the door and came out barrel-first. Angel’s gun was heavy in her hands. Declan and Trix were on the ground, on their stomachs. Trix was glaring and Faron had his gun pointed straight at the back of her skull. Rayanne had her gun pointed at Declan, but the confidence Jenny had seen while she was diagnosing Zeke was gone. She was back to being a lost little girl. Her pretty hair was a mess and her lipstick smeared like she’d been slapped. She wouldn’t meet Jenny’s eyes, instead just stared intently at the back of Declan’s head.

  “If you hurt my sister, your friend is dead,” Faron said, his words just as brittle as Angel’s eyes had been.

  Jenny trained the gun on him.

  “Kill me,” he said, “and she kills your boyfriend.”

  “What the fuck do you people hope to gain from all this shit?” said Jenny, not lowering the gun. But she didn’t come any closer. She glanced at Declan.

  “Our orders are our orders,” said Faron. “Where’s Angel? Did you kill her?” He didn’t seem upset by the idea.

  “No,” Jenny lied. “I drugged her. Stabbed a needle straight into her spine.”

  “Just do it, motherfucker!” Trix yelled from the ground. “Get this shit over with.”

  “Should I?” Faron asked Jenny, cocking an eyebrow. “Should I just get it over with?”

  “You don’t work for my mother,” Jenny said. “Do you? You work for the same asshole corporation that Abel fucked over.”

  “Abel was too interested in saving the world,” said Faron. “And not interested enough in surviving it.” Something flickered in Faron’s eyes, but it was gone before Jenny could understand what it meant.

  “You know they’re the ones who did this, right?” said Jenny. “They paid Sully to plant the virus, and frame my mother.”

  “And now they’re going to make us rich,” said Faron. “This is all going to end and I’m going to live forever. They’re going to make it all worth my while.”

  “Faron?” said Rayanne weakly.

  Faron ignored her, not breaking eye contact with Jenny. “You’re going to wish you’d taken me up on my offer,” he said.

  “What do you fucking want?” said Jenny. “You don’t need me. They figured out how to replicate whatever I am, obviously, if you have it too.”

  “Oh, we didn’t come for you,” said Faron, smiling his crazy smile again. A movement in the corner caught Jenny’s eye: The crumpled form of Benji, barely moving, one hand holding the side of his neck, as dark blood gushed through his fingers. The side of his neck and a piece of his face was gone. Jenny could see broken teeth through his destroyed cheek.

  “What the fuck?” said Jenny, staring in disbelief.

  Benji was trying to say something to her, but his jaw was moving in a weird way and he couldn’t form the words.

  “What the fuck did you do to Benji?” she said. She looked at Rayanne, who was now shaking uncontrollably, barely able to hold the gun. “He was one of you.”

  “He didn’t like my methods,” said Faron, enjoying her reaction. “I let him live.”

  Jenny saw Declan watching her, waiting for a signal. He nodded. She looked at Rayanne, her gun shaking so much it jangled against her bracelets, barely able to stand upright. Jenny wondered if the Undead could go into shock. She turned to Faron and smiled. His own grin faded. Jenny lowered the gun to his chest and pulled the trigger. The explosion filled the room and Faron crashed back against the wall. In less than a heartbeat Trix was on top of him. She smacked him in the face with her elbow. Jenny hit Rayanne in the stomach with the butt of her gun and the girl doubled over and sank to her knees. Declan flipped over and easily took Rayanne's gun away.

  Faron’s blood was bright red, just like Jenny’s. He smiled and it colored his teeth.

  “She’s dead, isn’t she?” he said. “You killed my only family.”

  “She was in love with you,” said Jenny.

  “I’m going to kill you,” he said. “And then I’m going to kill your whole family.”

  “My mother is not my family,” said Jenny, walking over to him, on the other side of Trix, who held Faron's gun pointed straight at his head. Jenny knelt next to him and turned his face to look at her. “Casey was the only family I ever had, and he was killed by the fucking psychopath who worked for your people. You are working for the people who killed my family.” Jenny felt the bile rise in her throat. She pulled her knife out of its sheath, still sticky with Angel’s blood. She rested the tip under Faron’s chin and applied some pressure. He grinned again.

  “You can’t kill me,” he said.

  “I can cut your fucking head off,” she said. “That might slow your healing process somewhat.”

  “You won’t, though,” he said.

  “She might not,” said Declan, right behind her. “But I will.” Jenny turned to see him holding the gun that Rayanne dropped. A motion caught her eye and she saw Benji getting up, grabbing onto the back of a chair to lift himself slowly and painfully from the floor. The cement was smeared and pooled with black blood. He looked like he was trying to say something again, but it was just coming out as moans.

  “Crrming,” he said, his cheek wound moving obscenely, his mouth working to form the words. His jaw swung oddly, not obeying, not connected right. Rayanne was staring at the door to the room where Angel had been holding Zeke. Faron saw it and the smile he was aiming at Declan slid from his face.

  A trail of black blood, Angel’s blood, was seeping out from under the door like a finger, moving slowly towards the drain in the middle of the room. Faron moved as if in slow motion. Jenny was aware of Trix taking the gun from her hands. Aware of Benji, moaning something through the viscous silence.

  “Crrrming, therrr crrrming…”

  As the room exploded with noise, Jenny understood what Benji was saying. And as Faron finally locked his gaze onto her, his broken-glass eyes a twin to his sister’s, his face like something shattered underneath but still holding its shape.

  “They’re coming,” she whispered, parroting the words that Benji had tried to say. Without even knowing who they was, she was sure that they were going to be enough to stop her. To finally end her journey, their journey, so long and bloody and without joy or success. It was over. She didn’t look away from Faron as Declan shot him, the rat-a-tat of old Hollywood movie bullets slamming him against the wall, opening his chest and stomach and knees up, his blood, as red as Jenny’s, splashing her in the face. He didn’t look from her either and she felt a sudden sharp stab of regret. She hadn’t thought about killing Angel. She hadn’t cared. But as Faron broke in front of her, in body and in mind, a thought occurred to her.

  What have I become?

  She watched Faron’s eyes lose focus. Watched him die. All she could do was watch.

  Trix was behind her, bashing Rayanne with the butt of the gun just as Jenny had. Neither Declan nor Trix aimed for the head. Jenny took a step back, wondering if as she killed Angel her face showed the satisfaction that Declan was so clearly feeling now, splattering bits of Faron against the wall. Had she looked as brutally enraged as Trix thrusting the gun into Rayanne’s abdomen over and over again, flesh making a wet slapping sound every time she hit her. Jenny could see that her friends weren’t killing. They were hurting. And Jenny wasn’t sure which was worse. She turned, finding Benji right beside her, holding his face together with one hand. With the other, he laced his fingers into hers. Jenny turned and saw her pain reflected in his eyes. Rayanne had betrayed him. Faron had hurt him. And that was where they were standing when Jenny heard the sound that couldn’t be. The sound that wasn’t possible.

  Benji squeezed her hand tightly as they listened to the sound of a helicopter descending.

  ELEVEN

  Faron was dead, she watched him die. And then he wasn’t. His eyes moved, finding Jenny. He smiled a crazy smile. Not fake-crazy like before, but real, honest-to-god fucking batshi
t crazy. Men in black jumpsuits were storming in, shooting everything in sight. Faron raised a hand and the bullets stopped.

  Dead only seconds before, Faron stood up. The smile never faded, never dimmed, even as he took a black-handled knife from one of the men. He held it in his hand, grasping it like he enjoyed getting a feel for it. Jenny realized she stood alone. She was the only one standing. Benji was on the ground, either passed out from the pain or killed by bullets. Everyone was on the ground. Trix lay unmoving on her side, her eyes closed, the gun dropped and forgotten on the floor. Declan, his guts shot to hell, flat on his back and covered in black blood. Jenny reached for her knife, but it wasn’t there. It was still buried in Angel's dead eye.

  “When you see me again,” said Faron, “you might just remember to cut my head off. Like you promised.”

  “Faron,” Jenny said, unsure of what else to say. She had no weapon, no way to defend herself. For the first time in a long time, she was completely defenseless. She eyed the gun that Declan had dropped, two feet away. But on the other side of Faron.

  Your sister, Zeke had said. It suddenly started to register in her head. Faron’s words: I’m going to kill you, and then I’m going to kill your whole family.

  Your sister.

  Your sister.

  Your sister.

  “Who is she?” Jenny whispered. But Faron had closed the gap and the knife slid into her chest. She felt her heart burst into two pieces. She felt it stop beating, the only thing she could see was Faron’s eyes, hovering over her, so close she could smell the death and the life of him. He pulled the knife out like a lover, and plunged it into her again. Over and over. She tasted blood and felt it filling up her mouth, the knife coming over and over again, chinking against metal and tearing into her organs. Faron didn’t stop looking at her, but he wasn’t smiling any longer. When he finally stopped, sweat glistened on his forehead and his face crumpled into something like physical pain. He looked toward the door where Angel’s blood was still trickling under the door. He looked back to Jenny. He was crying, but he smiled through it. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. She knew she was dying. She knew what it felt like to die, and she could feel it all slipping away.

  “You’re going to come back,” Faron whispered to her. “You’re going to die, but you’re going to come back. I could end you, but I’m not going to. Do you know why?”

  All Jenny could do was gargle blood, choking on it. That seemed to amuse him.

  “I’m going to kill your mother,” he said, raising up five fingers and pushing one down. “I’m going to kill your father.” Another finger pushed down. “And then I’m going to kill your sister.” Another finger. He was holding up only two fingers now. “Then, when you think I can’t do anything else to you? I’m going to kill your little zombie friends. And I’m not going to kill you, Jenny. I’m going to kill everything you fucking love. I’m going to take it all away. And you?” He laughed. “You’re going to live. Just. Like. Me.” He pulled the knife out and, holding it over his head with both hands, he thrust it down with all his strength. Jenny arched her back as something buzzed inside of her. She felt the knife snap against the metal she knew was inside her.

  Faron looked at the men.

  “Take the Prophet,” he said motioning to the lab. His voice grew cold. “And take my sister.”

  The men did as he ordered. Jenny felt herself letting go. The room was filling with light. She couldn’t see anything.

  “What about her?” she heard one of the men say. “Rayanne, isn’t it?”

  Faron sighed. “Take her too, I guess. I might need her.”

  And then Jenny didn’t hear anything. The light filled her chest and eyes and ears.

  She died.

  She was in the train car where she was bitten. She was trapped inside again, but it wasn’t Cora the crazy Righteous bitch on the other side of the door this time. No one was there. She turned expecting the rotters to come at her, again and again until she was worn down to nothing, until they bit her, infected her, made her a monster. But as she turned, the train car glowed. She couldn’t see the source; it was as if the car itself was the light.

  Jenny shielded her eyes. A rotter squirmed on the floor and she crouched down, squinting to see him. The Rotter who first bit her was still there.

  “I killed you already,” she said.

  But when she blinked, she realized it wasn’t the old rotter at all, but Casey.

  “Hey Jenny,” he said.

  “What’s happening?” she said. “Why are we here again?”

  “Because you’re dead, sis. Most of us can’t have it both ways, but you can. You just keep coming back and coming back. Again and again. Over and over and over again.”

  “I’m so tired, Casey,” she said, sinking to her knees. “All I want to do is sleep, but I can’t.”

  “You don’t get to sleep yet,” he said. “Not for a long time. Not until the end. And even then, it won’t really be the end. Not for you.”

  “Faron killed me,” she said.

  “You’re linked, the two of you. Chained together. Two halves.”

  “Fuck that,” she spat. “He’s a monster.”

  “So are you.”

  Something warm and wet rose up, filling Jenny’s shoes and soaking her pants. She looked down and saw that it was a red liquid, rising slowly to fill the train car. Jenny could feel it inching up her legs.

  “It’s blood,” she said.

  “Accept it,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be bad. You don’t have to fight it.”

  “If I don’t fight it, I don’t know what I’ll do,” she said.

  “If you don’t fight it,” Casey said, “you’ll find out.”

  A wave of pain pulled a choking sound from Jenny and she crawled her hand up to her chest and felt the hilt of the knife there, rough and wet and sticky with her own blood. She wrapped her fingers around it carefully, requiring her full concentration for every movement. When the next wave came, she pulled, screaming, gasping. Jenny forced herself onto her side and vomited red onto the floor. She dropped the knife with a jarring clatter and looked at her hand, trembling from the strain.

  The others also began to stir on the floor. Jenny squinted in the dark. Everything hurt. Every nerve in her body felt like it was screaming. She stretched out one leg, and heard glass crunch under her boots. The men from the helicopter had shot out the lights. Faron’s last joke.

  “Jenny?” came a voice, hoarse and raspy and no louder than a whisper.

  “Trix?” she said, her voice oddly clear. “Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m fucking not okay,” she said. Jenny heard her groan as if in pain. Someone else touched Jenny’s foot and she involuntarily recoiled. She heard a grunting and started to slowly reach down when a cold, large hand grasped at hers.

  “Declan?” she breathed. “Oh my God, Declan.”

  “Jen,” he croaked. “What’s happening? Why are we still alive?” She heard another tinkle of glass as he tried to get up, a wet thud as he fell back.

  Jenny didn’t answer. But she knew.

  Faron wasn’t done with her yet.

  “Fuck,” she said.

  She watched Casey walk through the wall and shake his head at her, disappointed.

  TWELVE

  Declan had been torn apart around the middle. The only thing holding him together was his spine. Trix and Jenny took turns sewing him up, stuffing his insides back into his falling-apart body. Jenny found some duct tape in a closet and they wrapped it over the stitches to keep his skin from tearing. Finally alone with Trix, Jenny tried to sew up her chest, ripped apart by bullets. Jenny could see all the way through in a few spots. But Trix shrugged her off.

  “We don’t need medical, cheerleader, we need food,” Trix said.

  “What do you suggest I do about that?” said Jenny.

  “We need to go into the city,” said Trix.

  “Not Expo,” said Jenny. “Zeke said it would be bad.” She s
tood, grimacing, the wounds in her chest not healed yet. She kept expecting her heart to just give up and stop beating. But it never did. It just kept on pumping.

  “Fuck no, not Expo,” said Trix. “The Dregs. Fucking pedophiles and weirdos. We go in, find the nastiest motherfuckers there, and bam!” Trix snapped her fingers. “Dinnertime, bitches.”

  “What about animals?” said Jenny. “There’s a shitload of wildlife in this area. I ate a deer back at camp. It’s almost as good as…”

  “It doesn’t work that way,” Trix said sadly. “We tried it with the goats, remember? I was always hungry, and I’m fucking old. It shouldn’t feel that way. I shouldn’t be hungry.”

  “We could try,” said Jenny. “It would tide us over.”

  “Did you actually catch that fucking deer?” said Trix.

  Jenny paused. “No. I happened to be right there when a mountain lion got it,” she admitted.

  “How the fuck are we going to catch a deer and eat it alive?” said Trix. She nodded to Declan. “Can your boyfriend run after a wild animal? All fucked up and barely walking?”

  “Fine,” said Jenny. “It was just an idea.”

  “The Dregs are the way to go,” said Trix.

  “I don’t know if Declan’s ready,” said Jenny. “You know he goes crazy around the Living.”

  “I know that you used to,” said Trix. “Didn’t you eat a Prowler’s face? Besides, you need to eat too. You’re like a fucking popsicle stick, it’s making me sick.” Trix poked her finger through one of her bullet holes.

  “I eat,” said Jenny, avoiding eye contact. She busied herself gathering up the supplies strewn across the counter in her mother’s old lab.

  “Fuck you,” said Trix. “Don’t lie to me. Lie to Declan all you want, but don’t lie to me.”

 

‹ Prev