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The knob turned, and still the haranguing went on. Val’s voice seemed clearer, so hopefully the woman faced away from the door.
As Miss Davis’s back came into view, the door groaned on its hinges, and a small, fluffy dog scampered to me from within the room, barking excitedly.
Really, Scruffy? I thought we made friends.
Sucking in a deep breath for courage. I kicked the door wider and shouted, “Lower that fucking shotgun. Put it to the floor, and I won’t shoot.”
Miss Davis ignored the command and cocked her shotgun.
Val was seated at a square table opposite Miss Davis, and his face was calm. How could he be calm? I scowled at him for a second, before concentrating on the jittery woman.
“Down! I’ve never shot a human, so it could be a messy kill.”
“I’m not the monster in the room, honey.”
“Yeah? Well, how’s this? I’m the bad-ass motherfucker in this room and I said. Put. The gun. Down.”
“You think you’re saving him?” Shaking her head, Miss Davis began to slowly lower her gun.
Theclunkof the heavy gun on the timber was the sweetest sound I had heard ever, ever. Ever.
The chair scraped as Val rose.
My heart decided it was fine to start beating again, and my throat loosened.
“You think she saved you?” Miss Davis spat at Val. “Only hope you got is prayers.”
CHAPTER31
Val
Another night of restlessness—Iwas finding out that nightmares didn’t need sleep. I was walking around in one, and one was walking around in me. It was almost fucking funny. Almost.
A hot wind blew across the landscape around us. The ceiling above swayed to the rhythm of the gust outside, bending the tree branches. Shadows invaded through the windows, and the lace curtains gave no protection from the night’s mood. If the large tree outside ever had a storm knock it over, much of the motel would be flattened.
A morbid thought.
The only hope you got is prayers.
I turned to face the middle of the bed and found Zara, smiling in her sleep, with her breasts partly spilling from her tank top. My mind filled with a sinner’s thoughts, and in some abstract way, I understood the connection between fucking and dying—the desperate grasp for life.
It was only my need to savor the things I could control that made me decide taking her could wait for morning.
Besides, I needed to think. This traipsing around with Zara was getting me nowhere—her memories and knowledge were coming in too slowly.
This hospital she wanted to visit perplexed me. She was running off a complete hunch, and though I’d said gut feelings were our database, they still needed some judgment.
This eyeglasses thing... I didn’t know if I believed it.
The ball in my abdomen chose that moment to throb painfully, a pulsing reminder of the time bomb inside me. Gritting my teeth, I rolled onto my back. Nighttime lowered the pain threshold or so it seemed. Not that I wanted the ball gone; it stopped the leech taking control. And even if I could remove it, there was the question of whether I would live through it.
Dead.
Dead ends.
Death preoccupied me more than it should. Despite the stunt I’d pulled with Zara and the gun earlier, I was the opposite of suicidal.
The way I saw it, me dying wasn’t going to solve any problems. Zara would still be off following her trail but blind to the creatures.
