To cover it up he’d said, “Don’t look so sad, Blondie.” She jumped like the sound of his voice had startled her. “You ain’t even gonna notice when I’m gone. It ain’t like we was close or nothin’.”
Axl’s back had still been to them, but the words made him spin around. His gaze zeroed in on Angus, focusing on the bite, his eyes growing wide as the truth settled over him. Angus still had his hand over it, but Axl would have had to have been a fool not to know what was going on. There was too much blood, and it was red. Real, not from a zombie. It was smeared all over Angus’s shoulder and dripping down where it soaked into the fabric of his shirt.
“Angus?” Axl’s voice had trembled.
He’d stumbled down the steps and dropped to his knees next to his brother, jerking Angus’s hand away. Then he’d just stared at the bite. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t uttered a word. He’d just sat there with his mouth hanging open like he couldn’t accept what he was seeing.
That was when Vivian moved, kneeling at Axl’s side so she could put her hand on his leg. “Axl.”
Her voice was gentle and brimming with emotion, but Axl had shoved her hand away. “Get your hand off me. This is your fault! You had to run off all pissed, not stickin’ with us like you was supposed to. Never learnin’ your lesson!”
Vivian jerked like Axl had slapped her.
They’d stared at each other for a moment, anger flashing in Axl’s eyes, Vivian’s shock wearing away until she, too, looked ready to breathe fire.
“My fault?” she’d finally spit out. “I didn’t make this virus, and I’m not the one who gets off on killing these things! Your brother is reckless. He has been since he picked me up on the side of the road, and it’s only gotten worse. You can’t blame me for his stupidity!”
Leave it to Vivian to call him out on his own idiocy even when he was at death’s door. It had almost made Angus laugh, but the urge had melted away when his brother’s mouth scrunched up. It looked like he was considering spitting in Vivian’s face.
“You gonna sit here an’ call my brother stupid? To my face! He’s gonna die, and that’s what you got to say to me?” His brother had shaken his head in disgust. “You been tryin’ to pull us apart since the day we picked you up. Angus said it, but I didn’t believe him. Too busy thinkin’ with my dick. Again.”
Hearing those words come out of Axl’s mouth had made Angus realize exactly why he’d sacrificed himself, and to his utter shock, it hadn’t only been about his brother. Yes, he’d wanted to save Axl, wanted to make sure he made it out of this alive, but it had been about Vivian, too. About the two of them together, because never in his whole life had Angus seen two people who fit together so perfectly. He’d never believed in the possibility of love until he saw Axl with Vivian, and it was because of that, because of them, that Angus had allowed himself to be vulnerable with Darla, and for the first time in his whole pathetic life, he’d fallen in love.
“You’re an ass—” Vivian began.
“Will you two shut the fuck up?” Angus had growled, irritated by their fighting, but also by his sudden revelation and the fact that he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. “Dumb as shit. I’m the one sittin’ here bleedin’ to death.”
With what looked like great effort, Axl tore his gaze from Vivian and moved closer to his brother, his anger easing but not disappearing completely.
“Shit, Angus.” Axl shook his head. “What the hell were you thinkin’?”
“I was thinkin’,” Angus began, “you and that blonde bimbo got somethin’ I ain’t never seen before and I didn’t want her dyin’.”
Tears were shimmering in Vivian’s eyes when she’d moved over to join them. “You’re such an asshole, Angus.” She paused to sniff back her tears. “Why the hell did you have to go and show your human side now? It would have been easier to say goodbye if I still hated you.”
Angus had let out a snort. “Never could do nothin’ the easy way.”
The zombies were still banging on the cellar door, desperately trying to get in, but the room had gone deathly silent. Angus knew what he had to say, knew what had to be done, but he found it difficult to get the words out. Not because he was afraid, but because he hated that Axl or Vivian had to do it. Hated that they were the ones who had to end him.
Still, it needed to be done, so he’d cleared his throat and said, “You gotta do it now.”
Axl slumped back, leaning against the wall next to his brother. “I ain’t gonna kill you.”
“Dumb shit. You don’t got a choice. You let me come back an’ I’m gonna rip the two of you to shreds. You take care of it now. Before I turn into one of them.”
Angus had let out a string of profanity when Axl shook his head.
“Gun’s outta bullets,” Axl said before his brother had been able to say anything else, “and I ain’t gonna stab you, so you can just forget it.”
“Shit. Lost my gun when I got bit.” Angus didn’t bother telling them he’d lost his knife as well. Instead, he’d focused on Vivian. “You got any bullets, Blondie?”
“No,” she replied, her voice just a whisper.
At that, silence had settled over the room again, but after only a few minutes of it, Vivian asked, “How long before the others get worried?”
Angus had kept his hand to the wound like he was trying to staunch the flow of blood, all the while wondering what would happen if he allowed himself to bleed out. Would he still come back as one of the dead? He didn’t have a clue.
“Hell,” he’d said, almost smiling as he answered Vivian’s question, “Rambo ain’t gonna be worried, but she’ll come lookin’ for the bodies in a bit.”
A strange sort of pride had welled up inside Angus whenever he thought about what a badass Parv had become. He’d had a big part in it, and that knowledge almost made him feel better about leaving the world. At least he’d done one good thing in this life. Helped one person grow and get stronger.
“This is bullshit,” Axl muttered to himself.
He still wasn’t looking at Vivian, and the way he stared at the ground like he hadn’t been able to stomach seeing her made Angus want to punch his brother. Since he didn’t want a fight with Axl to be one of the last few things he did on this Earth, Angus had distracted himself by pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.
“Well,” he said as he tapped one free, “this is ’bout how I expected things to go down.”
He’d put the cigarette between his lips before removing the pack, then pulled a small book of matches out. Only two left. He noticed he was getting low that morning when he’d shoved them in his pocket and had made a mental note to get his hands on more. Looked like that wouldn’t be happening.
Angus ripped a match free and struck it against the pack. It had sparked and flared to life, and he held the little flame to the end of the cigarette, sucking in until it caught. He had held the smoke in his lungs as he tossed the lit match to the floor, watching as the flame smothered out, then he released a big puff of smoke. It rose in front of his face, dissipating a moment later, and he took another drag, savoring the way the nicotine soothed his insides. If only it helped the throbbing in his shoulder.
They’d sat in silence. He smoked, Axl stewed in his anger and grief, and Vivian stared at Angus like he was already dead. It was getting on his nerves, but he didn’t tell her to stop. He wasn’t going to pick a fight right before biting it.
“Can you feel it?” Vivian had finally asked.
Angus’s gaze had been focused on the ceiling, and he hadn’t look her way. “Feel what?”
“The infection. Remember when Nathan got bit leaving the Monte Carlo? He said he could feel it. That it was like falling asleep or something. Do you feel anything like that?”
That was true. He’d forgotten that.
He took a long drag, shaking his head even as he did a quick inventory of how he was feeling. In pain, but other than that, he didn’t feel any different than he had that morning when he’d woken
to find Darla’s bare tits in his face. Even so, Angus was sure it wouldn’t be long. They all knew the position of the bite determined how long it took for the infection to spread. The closer it was to the brain, the faster it moved through a person’s body and the sooner it killed them. The sooner they turned.
“Don’t feel shit,” Angus replied, smoke coming out with the words.
“It shouldn’t be long,” Vivian muttered, echoing his own thoughts.
“Shut up.” Axl’s words had been laced with venom. “Don’t even say it.”
“Don’t get mad at Blondie, li’l brother. She ain’t sayin’ nothin’ we don’t already know.”
Axl had pulled himself to his feet and crossed to the other side of the room, then stood with his back to his brother and Vivian, leaning against a shelf. His shoulders were heaving, and he’d looked on the verge of hyperventilating. Vivian’s gaze had been glued to his back, her face twisted in worry.
Angus patted her knee, drawing her attention his way, and the cigarette hanging from his mouth bobbed when he’d said, “He’ll be okay. Just gotta give him some space.”
Vivian exhaled and moved closer to Angus, leaning against the wall next to him so their shoulders were touching. He’d patted her knee again almost absentmindedly, then took a long drag off his cigarette, tilting his head up and blowing the smoke toward the ceiling.
“I’m sorry, Angus,” Vivian said from out of nowhere.
“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry ’bout.” Angus had given a slight shrug. “We all knew this could happen, don’t mean we stop tryin’. I been doin’ the same thing my whole life. Tryin’ to live even though everythin’ ’round me was shit. Ain’t nothin’ new, really.” He’d shaken his head then. “Just sorry you all gotta see me like this. I hate lookin’ weak.”
“No shit.” Vivian had tried to snort out a laugh, but a sob came out instead.
Angus let out a low chuckle that shook his shoulders. “Guess you know me ’bout as well as anybody could after all we been through.”
“I don’t know.” Her gaze had been on Axl’s back even though she was talking to Angus. “I like to think there’s more to you.”
It had taken him a moment to respond. He’d wanted to tell her there was, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie. Maybe if he’d had more time on this Earth, maybe then he could have proven to himself and everyone else that there was more to him. Could have peeled back the layers until something better surfaced. He never would have thought that before, but his time with Darla and Parv had allowed him to see a different side of himself. A softer, more caring person.
It was too late for any of that, though, so he’d said, “Sorry to disappoint, but there ain’t. Was born a bastard and I’ll die a bastard, and there ain’t nothin’ nobody coulda done that woulda changed that.”
To his utter shock, Vivian had rested her head on his shoulder, and when she spoke, her voice was thick with tears. “I don’t believe you, Angus.”
The display had made tears well up in his own eyes, and he’d blinked rapidly, trying to keep them away. “Well, people are gonna believe what they want, I guess.”
He’d taken another drag off his cigarette, thinking about Darla as he did. Wishing he’d had the chance to tell her goodbye. To say the words she’d been dying to hear. She’d told him she loved him weeks ago, but he’d held back, not wanting to make himself vulnerable like that. He’d been a goddamn fool, and now it was too late. Again.
Not too late for everything, though.
Angus had snuffed out his cigarette in the dirt and cleared his throat. “You ain’t gonna like me sayin’ this, but I gotta, so just do a dyin’ man a favor an’ listen. Got it?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he’d seen Vivian wipe the tears from her cheeks and nod. “Okay.”
“Your momma feels real bad ’bout how things went down, and she wants to fix it. Kinda sees this whole thing as a second chance for her. I know I’m a hard ass and most people probably think I was just screwin’ her so I could get laid before I bit it, but that ain’t it. I like her. More than I ever liked anybody I dated before all this shit, that’s for sure. Wanted to take care of her.”
He’d silently cursed himself. Even at the end he couldn’t say the words. He really was a piece of shit.
Angus had gone on anyway. “Now I ain’t gonna be ’round, and I wanna make sure you do it for me. She acts all tough, but she’s soft. Like you.” He’d chuckled to himself, knowing his next words were going to get under Vivian’s skin but unable to keep them in because they were true. “You two remind me of each other.”
“Don’t say things that will make me hate you right now, Angus.”
The laugh that Angus let out had echoed through the cellar, and Axl finally turned to face them. He’d looked them over, and something about the expression in his gray eyes had reminded Angus of an empty snail shell. It had worried him, because he knew what was coming, and Axl was going to have to accept it and do what needed to be done as soon as the first stage of the transformation set in. Lethargy.
“Don’t talk like this is the end,” Axl had said.
“Oh, it’s the end, li’l brother,” Angus told him. “Sooner you accept that, the sooner we can get down to business. You an’ me both know we can’t let this go too far. Soon as I start actin’ like nothin’ matters, you gotta put a blade through my skull. You gotta end it.”
Axl had shaken his head. “Can’t.”
“Don’t got a choice,” Angus said.
Axl’s mouth scrunched up and his eyes flashed, and Angus had almost nodded in approval. Good. He needed his brother to get mad. Needed his anger to get him through the next part. Once that was done, Axl could move on to grief.
“That what you’d do? Stab me in the head then just walk away? Like I was nothin’!” Axl had balled his hands into fists as the last word echoed through the room.
Nothing.
Angus wasn’t going to let him get away with that. Yes, he’d been a hard ass, but he’d be damned if he went out of this world without making sure his brother understood how much he loved him.
He’d hauled himself to his feet and crossed the room, stopping in front of Axl. Holding his gaze. “You listen here, and you listen good,” Angus began, his voice low and firm. “This whole life’s been shit. Grew up without a dad and with a mom that thought I was a good for nothin’ just like the bastard that ran out on her. Didn’t have much food and none of the stuff the other kids had. It made me mean and mad. Made me hate the world.” The truth poured out of him in one breath, all the things he’d never voiced before, but he hadn’t paused. “The only thing in this whole goddamn world I ever cared ’bout was you. When you was born, I promised myself I’d take care of you. Didn’t matter what that bitch did, I was gonna make sure you was okay. I sat up nights with you when you was a baby. Took care of you when you was sick. Changed your fuckin’ diapers! You ain’t nothin’ to me, and you ain’t nothin’ to them people back at the house. You’re the only thing that’s gonna get them through all this, ’cause you got the best of me in you, but more than that too. You know how to care ’bout people, and that’s what they need.”
Silence followed, Angus’s words hanging in the air as he’d held his brother’s gaze. Axl had blinked, his expression seemingly frozen for just a second, and then he’d broken. His face crumpled, and he squeezed his hands into fists while his shoulders began to shake with silent sobs, and then he was pressing his forehead against his brother’s chest.
“Damn you, Angus,” Axl said, his voice muffled from tears and pain.
All Angus had been able to do as his brother sobbed was pat his back, too afraid his own tears would break free if he uttered a word.
He hadn’t allowed himself to cry that day, but as the memory of his brother sobbing against his chest began to fade, Angus found his thoughts turning to the day Axl died. That day, kneeling in the middle of the street with his younger brother’s body in front of him, he’d finally allowed him
self to break. Lying in bed now, his body throbbing from his injuries, Angus found it suddenly impossible to hold back. Tears leaked from his eyes and slid down his cheeks, and thanks to his damaged throat, his sobs felt like they were ripping their way out of him. Crying made every one of his already painful wounds hurt ten times more, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He’d been handed a second chance that day, and he’d done everything he could to take advantage of it. He’d thought it had been a gift, but looking back on it all now, Angus began to wonder if it hadn’t been his punishment, because burning alive for an eternity in hell couldn’t possibly hurt worse than watching every person you loved die one by one and being able to do nothing to save them.
Chapter Thirteen
The old floorboards of the cabin groaned as uneven footsteps moved Angus’s way, and for the first time in decades, he felt suddenly ashamed of his emotions. Ashamed to let Naya see how weak he was. Afraid his tears would make her think she couldn’t depend on him.
She stopped when she drew close, as if hesitant to step into the room. “Angus?”
Too weak and hurt to wipe the tears from his face, he turned his head toward the wall, hoping to protect himself. He couldn’t hold in his choked sobs, though. They shook his body, giving him away, and in seconds she was moving again, her uneven steps hurried this time.
The bed dipped, and in a soothing voice, Naya asked, “What is it? Are you in pain?”
He was in more pain than any one person deserved, but he didn’t tell her that. There was no way to explain why he was sobbing like a child—even if his tortured throat could get the words out, which would be a longshot.
Broken World | Novel | Angus Page 23