Dead in Bed by Bailey Simms, The Complete First Book (28 page)

“You didn’t assume it
was just my natural sexual charm?” I couldn’t believe I was able to make a joke.

Chris let himself
laugh. “Well yeah,” he said. “Your natural sexual charm, and the fact that your
pores are oozing with pheromones.”

Knowing that I was
dead
should have terrified me, and yet now
I felt strangely indifferent about that fact. Ever since robbing the pharmacy,
I
was
feeling oddly invincible. It
was true. The pathogen must have been giving me some weird natural high. But
the disease seemed to be affecting me differently than other people. Maybe I
was
dead, but I wasn’t deteriorating. And
I
felt
alive as ever.

“So maybe I have
little more confidence,” I said. “Fine. But how come I’m not like Morgan was at
the end? I don’t understand.”

“Honestly,” Chris
said, “I don’t understand, either. Maybe you have some kind of different
pathogen strain. I’d love to give you a blood test, but it’s not like that’s
going to fucking happen anytime soon, way out here. So I have no idea why. But,
Ashley, you’re definitely infected. I have no doubt about it.”

I thought about this.
It was strange that I wasn’t more concerned. Truthfully, I was glad I wasn’t
more concerned.

“Do you think this
could last?” I whispered. “Is it possible I could just go on like this without
all of those awful symptoms?”

Chris sighed.

“I have no idea,” he
said. “I sure hope so. But I have no way of knowing.”

* * *

We
reached the ravine just before sunset.

The cliff dwellings
were even more extensive than I’d remembered, and they looked beautiful as we
approached them in the evening light. The low sun brought out the stone’s
natural orange hue, and the rock walls glowed. I told all the refugees they
could take off their blindfolds.

It was a perfect place
to hide away. The ravine was narrow, but formed on the north side by a large
overhanging cliff. The dwellings—ancient buildings, most of them still
intact—were formed by a series of sturdy sandstone walls. Some of the
structures were three stories high, reaching all the way to the ceiling of the
hanging cliff. Ever since exploring this place with my dad as a kid, I
remembered walking through the complex’s interconnected passageways and looking
out the stone windows. There must have been thirty or forty rooms in all
;
plenty of space for everyone. There was even a freshwater
spring at the base of the ravine.

I remembered my dad telling
me that the people who built the dwellings—the Anasazi Native Americans—had
been hiding out from an aggressively warlike rival group. We couldn’t have
hoped for a better hiding place. Because of the cliff, the structures weren’t
even visible from the air. And because my dad kept the place a secret, it still
wasn’t on any maps. We were the only ones who knew about it. As long as word
didn’t get out, the Home Guard would need to search for months—years,
even—before tracking us here.

“Well, here’s our hole-in-the-wall,”
Chris said, slipping off the saddle.

The refugees began
exploring the dwellings. People were actually laughing with one another as they
walked from room to room, sounding hopeful for once.

I took
Kaypay
and the rest of the horses to the spring and watered
them in the last of the evening light.

There was a round
dugout at the center of the dwelling complex that must have been for storing
food once, but we used it as a fire pit and heated up our ration packs. Chris
made the rounds passing out another dose of antibiotics.

I didn’t take any.

I’d decided to wait
and see how my condition progressed. I tried not to think too much about it,
but I couldn’t help it.

I excused myself from
the fire early and took my blanket to the small stone room I’d claimed for
myself. I needed to be alone for a little while.

I’d just learned that
I’d died and that a pathogen had taken over my consciousness, but I hadn’t
quite worked out what that meant. Who
was
I now? I wasn’t sure, but I knew at least that I was actually finally feeling a
little good about how things were going. I’d managed, with Chris’s help, to get
a group of refugees a supply of antibiotics and a safe place to stay—for
now, anyway. Of course, we still had a lot to do. More refugees would come, we
had to figure out a way to get a steady supply of provisions, and winter was on
its way.

But I’d accomplished
something. And if the pathogen nesting inside me was using the same brain that I
had always used throughout my life, and had found in it the capacity to help
all of these people, then what did it matter if I were dead or alive? Maybe the
pathogen was part of me now.

The stars gleamed outside
the stone window.

I couldn’t help but
start to think about Ian.

I hoped that I’d see
him again, somehow, somewhere, despite however naïve and unrealistic the idea was
that he’d ever forgive me. I’d been trying so hard not to think about him all
this time, and now not thinking about him was just too much to bear. It was
impossible not to wish that he
was
with me as I lay
there alone in the darkness.

It wasn’t right to
wish for that. It wasn’t fair to my sister, or even to Ian. I know it wasn’t.
But it’s what I felt, and I couldn’t change it.

However the pathogen
may have been affecting my thoughts, they were still
my
thoughts. All of my yearning and regrets and actions were still
me
.

I may have been dead,
but
I
was still
me
.

And whatever I was
about to think or feel or do next in my existence, I was okay with it. I had to
be.

February 19
^th
, 2014

3:16 a.m.

Author’s
Update

I
can’t believe I finally finished the first
Dead
in Bed
book! This is the first time I’ve ever written anything like this,
so it feels like a huge accomplishment.

When I first started writing the book, I never,
ever thought I’d be posting the last part from a motel on the way to California,
but that’s what I’m doing. I finished the last scene of Part 7 in the back of
Kyle’s car while he was driving. He’s been at the wheel for like ten hours
straight, and he’s totally exhausted. Right now, it’s like three in the
morning, we're in like Nevada or somewhere, and he’s asleep where he collapsed
on the motel’s bed. It’s our first night on the road. (He’s actually snoring a
little! It’s so cute!)

I’m
so
excited. I don’t even really feel afraid. Maybe I’ll start feeling afraid and
regret this later, but right now I’m
so
glad I made this choice. I feel
so
alive.

I called my dad and told him I’m safe, but I
wouldn’t tell him where I am or that I’m with Kyle. I just told him I’m with a
“friend,” and that I’ll be back sometime in the summer. He didn’t even yell at
me. I was stunned. He just kind of quietly repeated “Uh-huh” when I was telling
him all this. He must have been in shock. I've never heard him like that before.
I think he couldn't bring himself to believe that I was actually telling the
truth. After a long silence he just said, very quietly, “Bailey, you come home.
Right now.”

But I just hung up the phone. And that was it.

I can’t believe I actually did this. And I can’t
wait to get to California! We’re going straight to LA first. I actually booked
a sublet for us online. I had to empty out half of my savings account to do it,
but I wanted to surprise Kyle.

I’ve been writing so hard that I’ve decided to take
a little break and enjoy myself for just a little while. But I have some really
exciting ideas for what’s going to happen to Ashley and Muldoon in the sequel.
So stay tuned! The second book is on its way really soon.

xxBailey

So, things have been pretty crazy for me since I started writing Dead in
Bed to say the least. My life has totally turned upside down, and now there's
no going back. If you want the inside scoop, just read along, and I'll try to
tell you everything I can as I update.

Basically, though,
I'm just a girl from a small town who loves really good stories. My teacher
told me I should try to write professionally, so I did—though suspense
thrillers about a plague that turns people into crazed sex-fiends probably wasn't
exactly what she had in mind!

Ever since I
learned about this stupid medical condition I came down with, I’ve been stuck
at home without much else to do. But then I started writing
Dead in Bed
. It was an escape, and it
made me feel better about things. And, then of course, everything changed. And
I mean everything. But despite all that's happened, I'll do my best to keep
publishing new parts until the series ends—or until my dad finds out what
I've been writing. (If he ever sees any of this, he'll kill me…well, if he can
find me, that is.)

xxBailey

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead
is purely coincidental.

F
ull
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Dead in Bed: The Complete First Book

Copyright © 2015 by Adrian Birch

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