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Chapter 20
Declan
We drove through the night, alternating sleeping in the passenger seat and driving.
It was impossible for us to talk. Sarge wasn’t, by nature, a talkative person, and I had no energy to raise my hands. Instead, we sat in companionable silence. Moonlight spliced the upholstered seat, painting the car’s interior in a soft, golden glow.
According to the map, we were still a few hours away from our destination. My fingers tapped against my knee as my unease strengthened and grew.
Was I making a terrible mistake by leaving Addie when she needed me? I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to fixate on it. Sarge expertly steered the truck down the backroads, avoiding the numerous stray cars with all of their doors thrown open and the occasional dead body. Ragers chased after us, hands curled into claws, before they quickly became distracted by one another. More than one fight broke out, a tangle of limbs and hair and blood.
So much blood.
Blood loss never seemed to deter them. If anything, it only seemed to spur them on. The grotesque sight was both entrancing and disgusting. I didn’t know if I wanted to look away or continue watching.
The car suddenly slid to the side, balancing precariously on two wheels before skidding to a stop. I reached out, grabbing the Oh Shit Handle. Wide-eyed, I turned to meet Sarge's gaze. He wasn’t looking at me, however, but instead was focused on something in the rearview mirror. Or someone.
I spun around with an almost blistering speed and came face to face with a familiar figure.
Chubby cheeks, tangled locks of hair, eyes currently narrowed.
Tommy.
And from the vein pulsing in Fallon’s neck and his semi-eccentric movements, I figured he was bitching Tommy out. Tommy, of course, remained impassive, if not slightly irritated. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised his chin defiantly. He didn’t speak, but instead allowed Sarge to grill into him. His face turned redder and redder the more Sarge droned on. I sort of wished I could hear what was being said. I imagined it was a lot of creative language and curse words.
Sarge turned his face towards the window, either too pissed to continue speaking or trying to restrain himself from murdering the little asshole.
I, however, kept my eyes narrowed on the little shit. He didn’t cower under my penetrating gaze, but instead sat up straighter.
“Why are you here?” I signed. Tommy’s eyes flickered to Sarge as he translated.
“I followed you, dumbass.” The asshole exaggeratedly opened his mouth, each word overly pronounced.
“Why?”
I leveled him with a glare to stress that simple word.
“Because.” He sneered at me, the expression contorting his chubby face. “I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“How did you know I was leaving?”
Only Sarge knew I was leaving, and that was because the bastard had eyes everywhere. But Tommy? How had he known?
Tommy rolled his eyes heavenwards. “I stalked you.”
Well okay, then.
I would say I was surprised, but…
Fuming, I turned towards Sarge.
“What do you suppose we do about him?” I signed, aware that Tommy no doubt couldn’t understand me and was getting annoyed. Added bonus, if I was being completely honest.
“Leave him to die,” Sarge responded.
Tommy began to rapidly move his hands, a series of random gestures and dance moves. His middle finger made an appearance on more than one occasion. I rolled my eyes and ignored him. Hopefully, that irritated the little fucker.
“We can’t leave him to die,” I signed. Sarge blinked at me with the innocence of a wolf. When he just continued to stare at me, unperturbed, I hurried to add, “Addie would be pissed.”
