He went back to eating. I guess that met with his approval.
It felt like my fever surged again, blurring my vision. I stumbled back toward the bed and collapsed onto the floor beside Beck. Max came immediately, pressing against my side, and I buried my fingers in his thick fur.
“Guess we’re staying put,” I whispered.
There was no way I could move Beck in his current condition. Not to mention, I seem to be sick now too.
Beck didn’t move, even as the pounding down the hall grew louder.
I leaned my head back against the mattress.
My skin burned, and my thoughts flickered in and out of focus.
I thought about my father, and scenes between Adrian and me flickered through my mind. Regret for the things I’d saidabout Lucas filled my thoughts. Countless moments from the past, and so many things I hoped for my future.
Somewhere deep in the clubhouse, something crashed to the floor.
If Nash and the others went to rob and pillage, they were going to have one hell of a surprise waiting for them when they returned.
For the first time since this whole nightmare started…I wondered if I was about to become one of the infected.
I felt a tear roll down my cheek.
Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine my life would end like this. If I had the energy, I’d get up and let Max out. At least he’d have a chance out there. In here, Beck or I might try to eat him.
He licked my hand.
I had to believe that I could beat this.
I’d survived losing my mother.
I’d survived losing my stepmother.
I’d survived being abandoned by Adrian and Lucas.
I’d survived my father and all of his lessons.
As my eyes started closing, the pain in my head grew excruciating.
It felt like my body was on fire. I hoped, like the phoenix, I would rise from the ashes.
If it came to it, I’d prefer my father to find me and shoot me in the head. I didn’t want to become one of those creatures. Luckily, I was confident Ben wouldn't hesitate to put me out of my misery.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
WHAT IS NASH UP TO?
The Ashford Supercenter parking lot looked like a damn war zone.
Cars sat crooked in their spots. Doors hung open. A few still idled, even as the drivers sat half-eaten inside. Their jaws moved, and their eyes clouded over, searching for a meal that would never arrive.
Nash rolled his bike to a stop and killed the engine. The sudden silence made the place feel even worse.
Behind him, three more bikes pulled in.
Bull swung off first, stretching his shoulders. “Place looks picked clean.”
“Not all of it,” Nash replied.
