Falling Stars: The Last Sanctuary Book Two Page 8

  Her head roared. She swayed on her feet. The body was splattered with red, blood dripping down the hollowed, veiny cheeks. She’d been exposed. She’d get sick. Then she’d die, just like everyone else. She began to tremble.

  “I wouldn’t let her mom get too close, Ponytail said. “Ten feet is what the CDC advised, right? That was before they went offline.” He clucked his tongue. “No use killing off more of you than necessary. Though that kid is probably a goner, too.”

  Amelia turned slowly, fresh dread overtaking her. Benjie stood only a few feet behind her, his mouth gaping, his eyes wide and glassy with shock.

  “No!” Willow said. “No, no, no!”

  “Y’all are in luck,” Ponytail said. “I’m feeling generous today. So get yourselves the hell out of our town before I change my mind.”

  Amelia didn’t move. No one moved.

  “Did you not hear me? Let me make myself clear.”

  A spray of bullets struck the pavement in front of Jericho and Silas, inches from their feet.

  Ponytail smiled. “Now run.”

  They ran.

  11

  Willow

  Willow fled with the others, her feet pounding the pavement, terror carving a hole in her chest. Every hair on her arms and the back of her neck stood on end.

  She kept expecting the bullets to start flying, for a stray fragment to puncture her exposed back, for Micah or Finn or Nadira to pitch forward, blood spurting from fatal wounds.

  But there were no shots. Just their own frantic breathing as they dashed up the hill and raced across the meridian. Her side ached, her mind screaming with a riot of competing thoughts—Run—Get safe—Those assholes—Benjie—How dare they—Benjie—No, no, no!

  Jericho swerved off the road, dashed behind an abandoned pharmacy, and came to a stop, hardly winded. The rest of the group staggered after him and formed a ragged, exhausted circle.

  The long grass tangled around her ankles, and she nearly tripped. Her body screamed at her to rest, to collapse, but she couldn’t. Not until Benjie was safe.

  “Get away from me!” Horne whirled on Amelia.

  She stood a good fifteen feet from the rest of the group, one hand pressed to her ribs, her other stretched out, palm up, as if warding everyone away. Her skin was pale, her face and hair speckled with the dead man’s red-tinged phlegm and blood.

  “That man . . .” she gasped, shivering in shock.

  Willow searched for Benjie. He slumped a few feet behind Finn and Nadira, who both stood across the circle from her. She met Finn’s gaze. He nodded. “He’s okay, Willow. Just don’t come closer.”

  Next to Willow, Silas stood frozen. A pang of sympathy struck her. Amelia was another rich elite, a spoiled rotten princess, cold and aloof. But she wouldn’t wish this horror on anyone.

  “She’s infected!” Horne pointed his pistol wildly at Amelia.

  Amelia took a step back, both arms out as if in supplication. Her jaw worked, but no words came out. The sun burned too brightly. Everything seemed too harsh, too detailed, too colorful, like nature itself mocked them.

  “No, she’s not!” Elise lunged for her daughter in desperation.

  Jericho seized her by the waist with one arm. “Stay back,” he warned.

  “Look at her.” Celeste grimaced. “I’m sorry to be the one to say it, but of course she is.”

  Elise slumped in Jericho’s arms, tears streaming down her face. “She needs me! Silas, help her!”

  Silas took a hesitant step forward, his features locked in an expressionless mask.

  “Don’t!” Jericho turned to Horne. He still held Elise with one arm. With his free hand, he pointed his own gun at Horne. “Put down that damn pistol.”

  Horne’s hands trembled. A lock of blonde hair fell into his eyes. “Not until she’s no longer a threat.”

  Nadira folded her right hand over her left and pressed them against her belly, her mouth moving silently. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “We should all calm down,” she said in a halting voice. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as it looks.”

  Benjie lifted his arm and coughed into the crook of his elbow, the way their mother taught him. It didn’t matter. The sound struck them loud as a gunshot.

  Willow froze. Everyone near her brother backed frantically away, even Finn, until a ten-foot radius surrounded both Amelia and Benjie.

  Horne turned his gun on Benjie. “You, too!”

  Willow didn’t think. She launched herself at her brother, desperation rising within her. “Leave him alone! He’s fine. He has asthma. It’s just asthma, that’s all!”

  Finn leapt in front of her. He was impossibly fast for such a big guy. He stood between her and her brother like an immovable mountain. She tried to dive around him, but he moved and blocked her. No one else spoke or moved.

  Fear gripped her. All she could see was that bastard Horne pointing a gun at her baby brother. If he hurt Benjie, she’d kill him. She shoved helplessly against Finn’s broad chest. He wouldn’t let her through. “Let me go!” She beat at him with her fists. “Let me go!”

  Finn’s kind face contorted as he looked down at her. “I’m sorry, Willow. I can’t.”

  “Everyone needs to calm down.” Micah raised his hands and stepped into the center of the circle. “Benjie, Amelia, do you promise to stay where you are and not move until we figure this out?”

  They both nodded. Amelia balled her hands at her sides. Benjie crossed his skinny arms over his rib cage as if that could keep him from shaking. He stared at Willow like he was drowning.

  She felt her heart breaking into pieces. He was so small and frightened. And she could do nothing to save him.

  Horne kept his gun on Benjie.

  “Leave him alone!” Willow shrieked. “He’s a kid!”

  “Lower your weapon, Horne,” Jericho said, “before I make you.”

  Horne holstered his gun with a scowl. “I’m just doing my part to keep everyone safe.”

  Everyone stared at each other in shock, fear, and confusion.

  “What’s the play here?” Gabriel glanced between Amelia and Jericho.

  “It’s simple,” Horne said. “We leave them.”

  “You bastard!” Willow surged with anger. She would have lunged at Horne and scratched the self-satisfied smirk off his perfect face if Finn hadn’t enveloped her in his bearish arms.

  “Jericho.” Elise turned to him, her eyes pleading. “You can’t do that. You know we can’t do that. Your allegiance is to the Black family. You have to take care of her!”

  “We aren’t leaving anyone,” Micah said. “We’ll find a way to quarantine Amelia and Benjie. They can stay ten or twenty feet behind us for fourteen days, or until we reach Fort Benning.”

  “Look, no one wants to make the hard decision.” Horne patted his hair, smoothing the stray strands that remained stubbornly out of place. “No one wants to leave them; of course not. But you’ve all seen what the Hydra Virus does.” He gestured with his arms. “Look around you. It’s devastated our country. It’s simply too dangerous to have two infected people in close proximity.”

  Celeste stared at Horne with her mouth open, as if even she felt surprise at the harshness of the man’s words.

  “There must be another way.” Nadira tucked a stray strand of hair beneath her hijab. “We can’t leave our own people behind. It’s not right.”

  Horne huffed. “Our goal must be survival now. Isn’t that what you said, Jericho?”

  Jericho’s face darkened. He didn’t seem to appreciate having his own words hurled back at him, not by the likes of a self-serving asshat like Horne.

  Willow shoved at Finn’s arms, but he held her tight. “Not at the expense of a little kid! What’s wrong with you people?”

  Horne looked at Willow, his lips pursed almost primly. “It’s nothing personal, dear. As a CEO of a major company, I’ve often made tough decisions for the betterment of all—”

  “You’re not the CEO of horse crap. No
t anymore.” Silas glared at him. “So stop talking. The sound of your voice is making my ears bleed.”

  Horne shot Silas a baleful look. “Just who do you think—”

  “Enough!” Jericho released Elise and strode up to Horne, not even flinching as Horne’s gun wavered in his direction. Jericho forcibly ripped the pistol from his grasp.

  “How dare you—”

  Jericho shot him a look so menacing that Horne shut his mouth. He turned to the rest of the group. “We’re implementing Micah’s plan. We quarantine the two exposed individuals by maintaining a safe distance and using gloves and masks at all times. We hoof it to Fort Benning double-time, so they can receive treatment if they’re infected.”

  Elise glanced at Amelia. “We can live with that arrangement.”

  Willow sagged against Finn in relief, the adrenaline draining out of her. They weren’t going to abandon Benjie, which would force Willow to leave the group. Now she had to convince them to let her go to him. “Benjie’s just a kid. He needs me. Look, I don’t see any blood on him. I’m sure he’s fine—”

  Nadira touched her shoulder, her dark eyes wide with compassion. “I will pray for Allah’s protection over all of you. I believe he’ll be okay. But we need to follow safety guidelines, for everyone’s sake.”

  Willow nodded numbly. She knew Nadira was right. But she hated the thought of Benjie left frightened and alone. “Who’s going to tuck him in the way he likes? Who’s gonna make sure he has his inhaler and help him through his nightmares? Who’s gonna keep him safe?”

  Finn wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face into the soft warmth of his chest. It felt natural, like she belonged there.

  “Listen to me,” Finn said in a low baritone, the sound rumbling against her cheek. “Benjie’s a brave kid. He’s the strongest kid I know. He’s strong like his sister, you hear me?”

  She managed to nod, fighting back the tears.

  “So this isn’t gonna be a walk in the park for anybody, but we’re all gonna make it through. You and me, we’ll still be here for Benjie, okay? We’ll keep him safe. I promise you.”

  She let herself sink into Finn’s comforting embrace. She wanted to believe his words with every fiber of her being. Benjie would be safe. He’d be okay. He had to be.

  12

  Amelia

  Amelia stared in horror at the blood on her arms, waves of dizziness washing over her. Her skin crawled. So much blood. Infected, diseased blood. All over her clothes, her skin, her face, on her lips. She could almost feel the virus replicating, sinking into her skin, poisoning her from the inside out.

  Revulsion clawed at her throat, mingled with rising panic. She wiped furiously at her face. “Get it off! How do I get it off?”

  “It’s okay.” Nadira tried to console her. “It’s okay. We’ll help you. We’ll find a way to clean you off. You’ll be okay.”

  But it was a lie. Everyone knew it. They stared at her in shocked pity, like she was already infected, like she was already dying. Her throat closed, cutting off her air.

  Several feet away, Benjie started to cry. He was just a kid. He must be terrified.

  Willow pulled away from Finn. “Benjie, breathe. Just breathe, okay?”

  “Lo Lo!” Benjie reached for his sister.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t—I have to stay away from you for a while. I’m so sorry.” Amelia felt the pain in Willow’s voice like a punch in the gut.

  Benjie whimpered, tears leaking down his cheeks. “I want Zia. I want Mama.”

  “She’s not here, you know that.” Willow’s voice cracked.

  Amelia closed her eyes, forcing herself to stop scrubbing the diseased filth from her body. She gripped her charm bracelet through her shirt and took a deep breath. She needed to get it together. Panic was not an option. “He won’t be alone.”

  Willow stared at her with glassy eyes. “What?”

  It felt like she was speaking from a great distance, like her words were coming from someone else. “He’s not alone. I’ll take care of him.”

  “You promise?” Willow asked, hope in her voice. In that moment, she sounded like a little kid.

  “I promise.” Amelia looked over at Benjie. She knew nothing about kids. Declan Black never had much use for children, including his own. She pasted a smile on her face, even though she was on the verge of fracturing into pieces. She could keep it together for this kid. She could do that much. “We’ll figure it out. Okay?”

  Benjie swiped at his eyes with his fists. Slowly, he nodded.

  “Now that we’re situated,” Jericho said, shooting Horne another look, “we need to head for Fort Benning ASAP.” He didn’t say, before you start showing symptoms. “We can search for some old-model jeeps and trucks we can hotwire, but staying off the major roads will set us back. For now, we hike parallel, steering clear of people as much as we can, for their sake and ours.”

  “Wait!” Willow pulled a crumpled green paper from her pocket and uncreased it with shaking fingers. “We found this earlier. FEMA has regional medical centers. South of Macon is the closest one. That’s where we need to go. They say they can treat it. Maybe they have a cure.”

  “They’re claiming they’ve developed a cure in less than six weeks?” Silas scoffed. “That’s impossible.”

  “We’re going,” her mother insisted, turning to Jericho. She pointed at the paper in Willow’s hands. “We’re getting help.”

  “But they don’t have a cure—” Silas started.

  “You don’t know that!” her mother cried, hysterical.

  “The government says they have a treatment, if not a cure,” Willow said. “Why would they lie?”

  Amelia remembered the earnest look on President Sloane’s face when she’d announced a state of emergency and martial law. She seemed so honest, sober, passionate, and determined. Nothing like the corrupt, slimy president before her. Was she lying?

  Maybe the CDC or WHO had stumbled upon a treatment. It was possible, wasn’t it? But the logical part of her brain told her it wasn’t.

  “Change of plans. We’ll head for the FEMA center outside of Macon.” Jericho took the flyer from Willow and entered the coordinates into his SmartFlex’s GPS. It beeped. “Warning, low battery. Please charge me within the next two hours,” a smooth female voice droned far too pleasantly.

  “Amelia needs to clean herself of contaminants,” Nadira said. “Benjie, too.”

  Jericho nodded. “We still have seven hours of daylight. There’s a single lane road between the gas station and the barber shop. It leads to a small cluster of homes. We’ll look for a house with solar panels and working water. And if we’re lucky, some food.”

  “What if the owners won’t let us in?” Micah asked.

  “We’ll worry about that when it happens.” Jericho adjusted his rifle so it pointed down toward the ground. “We need to bug out before those Headhunter assholes decide we’re worth the hassle.”

  “Listen to Amelia,” Willow said to Benjie in a choked voice. “Everything will be okay. I promise.” She turned and locked gazes with Amelia. Amelia felt the weight of the responsibility placed on her shoulders. Benjie was all Willow had in the world. She’d do everything in her power to protect this kid.

  Willow placed something gingerly on the ground and stepped back. “Here’s his inhaler. If he’s wheezing, has shortness of breath, or can’t stop coughing, or his face gets all sweaty—ask him if his chest feels tight—”

  “I will, I promise,” Amelia said.

  Willow gave a sharp nod and spun to join the rest of the group. Amelia watched them move ahead of her, then counted twenty paces under her breath. She picked up the inhaler and tucked it inside her pocket. “Our turn, Benjie.”

  “Okay, Miss Amelia.” Benjie moved toward her, reaching out his hand.

  Amelia shook her head. “I’m sorry, but we can’t touch. And you should stay at least five feet away from me, just to make sure. I don’t see any blood on you. You might not be inf
ected.”

  Benjie’s face fell, but then he brightened. “Maybe you’re not sick, either.”

  “Maybe.” Acid stung the back of her throat. Even though he was terrified, the kid still tried to comfort her. She hadn’t been around children much, but she liked this one. Even so, she knew deep in her heart that his words weren’t true. Couldn’t be true. She was infected. But Benjie still had a chance.

  They trudged along the grass shoulder, following the group back through the abandoned town. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her. Her whole life, she’d lived in fear of her deadly form of epilepsy, always careful to hide the secret, illegal medication her father developed for her.

  Every seizure was potentially devastating, resulting in brain damage, memory loss, reduced functions like balance and coordination, and even death. Very few people with her prognosis saw the age of twenty.

  By now, she should be severely brain-damaged. Or dead.

  All this time, she’d worried about her medication running out. On the half dosage, she was twice as likely to have a seizure. And in less than two weeks, she’d be out completely.

  But she was still alive. Against all odds, she had survived. She survived epilepsy and her migraines. She survived her father’s rages. And then she’d survived the hijacking of the Grand Voyager, Gabriel’s betrayal, and Kane’s assault.

  She had survived it all, only to be taken down by this—the disease-infested droplets from a simple cough. She would laugh if the tears wouldn’t come soon after. She couldn’t cry. Not yet. She had Willow’s brother to think about now.

  After an hour of walking, they crested a small hill and glimpsed a cluster of houses. A sound came from behind them, like something scuffing against the pavement. Amelia twisted around, scanning the empty street.

  “Miss Amelia?” Benjie asked.

  She raised her finger to her lips, her instincts on high alert. But there was nothing. There were no people. The sun shone on the metal roof of the gas station, glittering glass strewn across the parking lot. A faded yellow sedan slumped on the side of the road like a dead thing. No breeze stirred the grass or scuttled the leaves on the ground.