by M. D. Massey
Axl is back in no time, and Joshua takes the flashlight from him. “Open your mouth, Vivian. Stick out your tongue.”
I do. I squeeze my eyes shut, saying a silent prayer. I’ve never really been a religious person, but if there’s ever a time to pray, this is it.
“Damn,” Joshua says.
My eyes fly open. He frowns. Is that good or bad?
“What?” Axl snaps.
“I need the keys to the Nissan. I don’t know for sure. I don’t want you to get your hopes up, but it could be strep. I need to find a pharmacy and get you some antibiotics.”
Axl grabs the keys off the dresser. “Do it.”
Joshua runs out of the motel room without another word, and I’m left speechless.
I might not die.
Axl stands with his back to me. He crosses his arms over his chest. He stares at the door Joshua just disappeared through for a few seconds, then he turns around. There’s a tense smile on his face. “You might be immune yet.”
I nod, but I can’t talk. I’m trying not to get my hopes up. This could still be the end.
Axl paces the room, and I lay in bed with my eyes closed. Waiting.
Joshua is back in what seems like seconds. He charges into the room with a white paper bag in his hand. He gasps, like he can’t catch his breath. “They were closed, but the pharmacist was still inside, so I banged on the door until he let me in.” He opens the bag and pulls out a rectangular box. “This is a Z-pack. It’s strong stuff.” He looks at me with an intense expression on his face. “If this is strep, we should see an improvement within forty-eight hours.”
Two days. I’ll either be dead or better. It seems like an eternity.
“Take two today and one for the next four days,” Joshua says, popping the pills out of the pack.
Axl waits with a cup of water. Joshua gives him the pills. Axl puts the pills in my mouth and helps me sip. He doesn’t talk, but his eyes hold mine as I swallow the liquid. It’s like swallowing hot coals, and I wince.
“Sorry,” he whispers.
“I’m sorry,” Joshua says. He stands in the middle of the room and his eyes are dark. “I should have checked earlier. I should have considered it might be something else.”
“How could you?” I whisper. My voice is so hoarse that it doesn’t sound anything like me.
“I should have known,” he repeats. His face crumples. He clears his throat, turns, and walks out of the motel room without another word.
“His mom and brother died yesterday. Dad’s sick too.” Axl shakes his head. “He ain’t been able to reach him today.”
My heart goes out to him. He’s been here, taking care of me while his family died. Maybe he could have gotten there to say goodbye. If it hadn’t been for me.
Night is the same as the one before, only I get a little more sleep. When I wake, my body aches less. My throat is still raw, but my bones don’t hurt with as much intensity as they did before.
I roll toward Axl. He’s asleep next to me, and his face is relaxed. He looks younger. It’s a comfort to have him here.
“Axl,” I croak.
He bolts upright, startling me. Joshua jerks awake in the other bed.
“What?” Axl seems panicked, like he’s expecting bad news.
I almost laugh, but it would hurt too much, so I try to choke it down. “I don’t hurt as much.”
Joshua is next to me in the blink of an eye, and they both touch my face. Their hands are on my cheeks, my forehead.
“She feels cooler,” he says.
He runs to the other side of the room, but I can’t take my eyes off Axl. My fever is down, I know it is, because for the first time I can truly appreciate everything he did for me the last two days. It makes me want to take back every negative thought I ever had about him.
“Thank you,” I whisper. Talking tickles my throat. I turn my head away from him so I can cough.
He doesn’t say anything, but when I look back his eyes shimmer with hope.
Joshua comes back with a thermometer. “Put this under your tongue.”
I open my mouth and allow him to put the thermometer in. Axl doesn’t say anything, but his hand rests on my shoulder. I don’t want him to move it. It’s more comforting than a warm blanket on a cold day. Better than a hug from your mother. I’m assuming. I don’t really ever remember getting a hug from my mom, but there’s no way it could have made my insides feel as warm and silky as they do now.
The thermometer beeps. Joshua removes it and lets out a sigh. “One hundred point eight.” He smiles a little, but it’s too sad to make me feel really, truly better.
I tear my eyes away from Axl and focus on Joshua. “What was it before?”
“One hundred and four point nine,” he says. “Strep or not, the antibiotics are kicking in.”
No wonder they thought I was dying.
“How do you feel?” Axl asks.
I try to sit up, and it’s no surprise when he helps me. “The aches are almost gone and I’m not as cold.” I have to whisper because my throat is still killing me. I swallow and cringe. “My throat is still just as swollen.”
“A couple days and that will be better too,” Joshua says.
He lets out a sigh and a genuine smile crosses his face. He looks—relieved. Maybe after all the death of the last few weeks, he needed this. A simple illness that didn’t result in a horrible, painful end.
“You should eat,” he says. “I’ll run to the café and get you some soup.” He grabs his pants and pulls them on.
Axl doesn’t move from my side. His hand is still on my shoulder. “I should tell Angus.”
“I’ll stop by their room on my way to the café.” Joshua is out the door before anyone can stop him.
My heart swells, and tears come to my eyes. I’m so thankful for this group of strangers. That they were willing to take care of me. To put their lives on hold while the world ended. Just for me. No one has ever done anything like that for me before. Not even my own parents.
“You need anythin’?” Axl asks. He finally moves his hand. He puts it on his leg and stares down at it, flexing his fingers for a moment like he doesn’t recognize it.
I start to tell him I’m okay, but stop. “I need to go to bathroom.”
My legs shake when I try to stand. I haven’t had much to eat or drink in two days.
Axl is by my side before I can even take a step. “I’ll help.”
He puts his hand on my arm and supports me while I walk toward the bathroom. I think I could probably manage on my own, but it’s comforting, so I don’t protest. Thankfully, he doesn’t try to follow me in. I vaguely remember a few times over the last couple days when I was feverish and not really with it where he might have. I try to push the thought from my mind. It doesn’t matter now, because I am going to live.
You are not going to die. I let out a huge sigh of relief. I was so sure this was the end.
When I’m done, I head out to wash my hands. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. It doesn’t look anything like me. My skin is pale and moist with sweat. The make-up smeared under my eyes gives my face a hollow and terrifying appearance. My greasy, blonde hair clings to my head. I probably smell.
“I need a shower.”
“Go ‘head. There’s probably a long line at the café,” Axl says from behind me.
“Is my suitcase in here?”
“I’ll get it. Go ‘head and jump in.”
“Thanks.”
The shower isn’t hot. More like lukewarm. But I can’t complain. I can practically feel the layers of sweat and sick slide off me. I don’t spend a lot of time, not because of the water, but because I’m weak. It wore me out just to strip off my clothes. Standing in the shower to wash my hair makes my legs shaky. I sit on the floor of the tub to rinse off.
When I turn the water off, I pull myself to my feet, holding onto the wall for support. I shiver. The air is cold and my fever still isn’t completely gone. My body is covered wi
th goosebumps. I find a towel hanging just outside the shower and grab it, hoping to get warm. But it’s cheap. Scratchy and thin. It’s soaked by the time I’ve wiped myself down. I wrap it around me anyway. It’s barely big enough to go completely around my body.
I head back out into the bedroom, still wet, barely covered, and shivering. All I want at this point is find something warm and comfortable to wear.
Axl is laying on the bed when I walk out. My suitcase is on the floor by the sink. He sits up but doesn’t move, and I lower myself next to him on the edge of the bed. I’m exhausted.
“Can you bring my suitcase over here?” I whisper, not looking at him.
He grabs the suitcase without saying anything. My stomach flutters when he walks back and I pull the towel tighter. The idea of getting dressed in front of him has me nervous. Why? I was a stripper. But this is different somehow. Like a first date or something.
He sets it next to me, but doesn’t move. I keep my eyes down as I dig through it. I find a clean pair of underwear and a bra, black and lacy. I set them aside while I search for a shirt and some pants. When I look up his eyes are on my skimpy undergarments. I chew on my bottom lip. What’s he thinking? I’m still too sick to really focus on this thing between us, but that doesn’t stop my heart from beating faster.
Thankfully, he turns away without me having to ask. I bite back a smile while I get dressed, thinking about the rough guy I met a few days ago. Where did this guy come from?
I pull on my clothes as fast as I can, then wrap the towel around my wet hair. “I’m decent.”
Axl turns back and stares at me. Totally silent.
I swallow and wait for him to say something.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he finally says. I can’t read his expression, but his eyes are soft.
“Me too,” I whisper.
His eyes search mine, and I don’t know what to say. He has me shaken. At least I think it’s him. Maybe it’s the near-death experience, or maybe I’m just weak. Everything feels jumbled right now.
11
“Your brother started packing up the second he heard she was better,” Joshua says between bites of his burger.
Axl pauses mid-bite. “Well, we ain’t goin’ yet. She’s still sick.”
I sip soup by the spoonful while they eat giant burgers that smell amazing. I had no idea how hungry I was until Joshua walked in with the food. It wouldn’t work, though. Swallowing the soup hurts.
I clear my throat, which feels like someone scraping the inside of my esophagus. “We can go. I’m feeling a lot better.”
Axl shakes his head, but he doesn’t say anything. He isn’t convinced.
“The café wasn’t nearly as busy as it was a few days ago.” Joshua takes another bite, but it looks forced. Like he’s lost his appetite.
I clear my throat again. It feels like something is trying to claw its way out of my throat and a shudder runs down my spine. God that hurts. “What’s been on the news?”
Axl shakes his head. “They’re bein’ more honest ‘bout what’s happen’ now. That’s somethin’ at least.”
I look back and forth between him and Joshua, waiting. Joshua lowers his head and his mouth tightens into a grimace. Axl keeps eating.
“What?” I croak.
“They’ve finally come out and admitted the virus isn’t contained. They’re saying some infected people snuck out of New York.” Joshua doesn’t look up. He pushes his burger aside.
Axl snorts. “President died. VP’s in charge now. They’re still sayin’ most people are immune.”
“All official news reports correspond to what the government is saying, but the Internet is full of crazy stories and rumors.” Joshua pushes the fries around in his Styrofoam takeout box. Every word he mutters sounds more dejected than the last.
“What kind of crazy stuff?”
“Conspiracy theories. Chemical warfare, terrorist attacks, a plot to overthrow the government.” Joshua stares at his half-eaten burger like he can’t remember why he ever wanted it in the first place.
“They’re sayin’ that ninety percent of the population is gonna be dead by the end of the week. There’s even crap ‘bout bodies coming back from the dead. Stupid shit like that.” Axl talks with his mouth full, and the words come out muffled. But I get the point. No one has any idea what’s going on for real, so they’re grasping at straws.
The door bursts open, and Angus saunters in. “You ain’t dead.” His lip bulges and he grips a soda can in his hand. “Good. Let’s get the hell outta here.”
Axl’s burger falls to the floor when he jumps up. “She’s still sick, Angus. We gotta hang out ‘nother day.”
Angus’s face turns red and his jaw tightens.
He looks like he’s about to explode, and I don’t want to cause problems. “It’s fine, Axl. I’m well enough to sit in a car.”
Axl starts to protest, but Angus speaks up before he can say anything. “Well, good. Get your shit together so’s we can get the hell outta this town.” He turns toward Axl, his expression hard. “Got that, brother?” The challenge in his eyes is unmistakable.
Axl’s jaw tightens. He nods.
Angus smiles and turns to the door. “Thirty minutes,” he calls over his shoulder.
Joshua stands up and tosses the rest of his burger in the trash. “Guess we need to get packed.”
Axl doesn’t say anything. He starts packing up our stuff, not looking at me. I try to think of something to say. The brothers are close. I get the impression I’ve somehow screwed that up. I don’t think this is the first time a woman has messed with the dynamic of their relationship, either.
I set my soup on the nightstand and climb off the bed on shaky legs. I have to rest for a minute because I’m dizzy, so I close my eyes and wait for the room to stop swaying. When I’m more stable I walk over to my suitcase, still sitting on the other bed, and start packing it up.
“Sit back down,” Axl snaps. “I’ll take care of that.”
“I can do it, Axl.” My hands shake, though. The little bit of soup I ate wasn’t enough.
He walks over and puts his hand on top of mine. I look up into his stormy eyes, and my heart skips a beat. We’re so close, and he’s done so much for me…
“Let me do it,” he says in a soft voice.
I sit down on the bed, right next to my suitcase. He stares at me for a few seconds more with his hand on top of mine. The contact makes my skin tingle. It’s not right. Finding myself attracted to him when I’m so sick, when the world is falling apart around us.
He finally looks away and goes back to packing up the room. Joshua looks back and forth between Axl and me a few times, but he doesn’t say anything.
“So where are we, anyway?” I ask.
“Vega, Texas,” Axl says. “‘Bout forty-five minutes from New Mexico.”
We didn’t make it very far before we stopped. I’ve really slowed them down.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t hafta be sorry. You didn’t get sick on purpose.”
“I know, but if we hadn’t stopped…” I look at Joshua.
He watches me with a frown on his face. “I still wouldn’t have made it in time.” His voice sounds thick with emotion, and he has to turn away.
“I’m sorry.”
He nods, but doesn’t look up.
“What are you going to do now?”
“I’m not going home. Thought maybe Axl and Angus had the right idea. Get to the coast and find a good place to wait this out. I don’t want to go back to Arizona.”
Yeah, the brothers have a good plan. Maybe when I get Emily we’ll tag along.
I sit on the bed and watch the men pack everything up. It’s strange not to help. It makes me feel awkward and useless. I should help, but to be honest I don’t know if I have the energy. It’s amazing how much being sick can take out of you.
When everything’s packed, we head out to the car. Joshua and Axl carry the bags. I trail behind them,
trying to make my exhausted body cooperate. Thankfully, the Nissan is parked close.
“Let’s get the hell outta this ghost town,” Angus says, grabbing the bags from Joshua and loading them in the back.
There are cars everywhere, but few people. I peer in the window of a gray sedan parked next to us. The driver sits behind the wheel. His head leans back and his mouth hangs open. His eyes are closed, but I don’t think he’s sleeping.
Axl opens the back door for me. “Go lay down. You look like you’re ‘bout to fall over.”
I climb in, taking one last look over my shoulder at the gray sedan. I have a bad feeling about what’s coming.
I get stuck in the third row with Joshua while Axl sits up front with his brother. Angus insisted. He’s pissed we lost so much time sitting around, waiting for me to die. Any leeway I may have made with him before is gone completely now. Plus, I get the feeling he’s not thrilled with all the attention Axl gave me. I have no idea what he’s thinking, but I can’t deny the twinge of disappointment that surged through me when I found out Axl wouldn’t be sitting in the back with me.
My head pounds when I wake up. In the front seat, Angus curses. I sit up too fast, and my head thumps harder. Squeezing my eyes shut, I wait for it to ease up. I open them when we start to slow. We’re approaching another checkpoint, and it takes about two seconds to figure out why Angus is upset.
“We’re in a shitload of trouble now,” Axl says, looking out his window at the bodies of two soldiers.
Angus puts the car in park. I lean forward, trying to get a better look at what’s going on. There are no military vehicles and no living soldiers in sight. From what I can tell, the two bodies, which are slumped over next to a makeshift shelter, are pretty fresh. They probably haven’t been dead for more than a day.
“Was it the virus?” Trey asks.
“Only one way to find out,” Angus says, opening his door.
Axl follows him. The rest of us watch silently from the car as they walk around the area. Once they’ve thoroughly checked the soldiers out, the brothers head to the shelter instead of back to the car. Probably looking for any supplies they can take. It’s what I would do.