Four (Their Dead Lives,1) (25 page)

That would be their final conversation.

ALEC

Was only a matter of time before Kale got someone killed.
 

In the past, Scot had pointed out on several occasions how Kale was delusional. Alec now realized just how delusional Kale really was. He’d taken a girl’s life with little hesitation. And for what? To be a hero? To be something special?
 

Alec was reminded about how easy it’d been to lose touch with Kale after high school. He didn’t want to be around the guy, so he crawled back in the alcove to be with Nicole again. He brushed her light brown hair to the side. Her eyes opened dreamily and she whispered, “Hey, there.”
 

He pressed his lips to hers, thankful to have her to keep him sane. “Let’s go outside. I can’t stand it in here anymore.”
 

Nicole stretched and gave a luxurious yawn. “That deck did look pretty relaxing.”
 

Alec smiled. “We might as well enjoy ourselves, right?” He pulled back but Nicole grabbed his arm.
 

“Hey,” she said.
 

“Yeah?”
 

“You know if you want to talk about your brother, I—”
 

“I love you.” Alec’s lips locked on hers again, cutting off her words. “Let’s go.”
 

As they exited the alcove, Alec glanced at the motionless Jeff, who was still lost in his illness.
I need you with us.
 

The sun outside was bright and combined with the ocean breeze, the day felt perfect. Alec figured he should tell Howard to go see Kale, even if Alec was furious with his lost friend. So he poked Howard, who was passed out and snoring on the deck.
 

“Grasshoppers and porcupines!” Howard jolted awake.
 

“What were you dreaming about?” Nicole asked, smiling.
 

Howard blinked at her in confusion. Her white dress was torn across her chest, exposing a great deal of cleavage and a lacy pink bra. Howard’s eyes locked on this sight. Nicole coughed to indicate her discomfort and adjusted her dress more modestly. Howard’s gaze still didn’t break.
 

“You okay, buddy?” Alec tried to interrupt the creepy tension.
 

Still no response.
 

Alec gave up and smacked his arm. “Hey.”
 

Howard shook his gaze. “Jeez, how long was I out for?”
 

“You looked awake.”
 

“Huh?” Howard slipped off his suit jacket and untucked his white dress shirt. He loosened his tie and looked past the couple at Deputy Miller. “Hey, what’s the skinny, deputy?” He moved past without looking at either of them, and Alec knew he was trying to avoid the awkwardness.
 

“Did you see your buddy Kale yet?” Miller asked him.

Howard shrugged. “No, why?”
 

“Follow me.”

Leaving them, Alec and Nicole rested together on the warm and inviting sundeck. They spooned, watching the other survivors at the white railing.
 

Specialist Jon Evans, Dr. Dylan Evans, and Pat all stood side by side. Their backs were turned to the couple.

 
“I’m sorry, kid. We tried,” Dylan told his nephew.
 

“We had her.” Evans leaned against the railing. “We
had
her.”
 

Dylan grabbed his shoulder. “Listen, Kale tried to do what he thought best. You can’t hold it against him.”
 

Yes he can,
Alec thought to himself. He wondered if they knew he and Nicole were behind them, or maybe they simply didn’t care.
 

“I’m not.” Evans stared straight at the water. “I’m fine.”
 

“You sure?”
 

“What should I feel? I hardly knew her. I won’t cry for her.”
 

Dylan pulled away, but spoke softly to his nephew. “First your team, now her. We get it, you won’t cry for anyone.”
 

Evans pushed off the railing. He was finished with this conversation. “I’ll be on the bridge if anyone needs me. It’s time we head north.” They’d been floating in the same general area since last night.
 

“To where?’ Pat asked.
 

“Back to base, Camp Numark,” Evans called over his shoulder as he disappeared up the stairs leading in the yacht’s bridge.
 

Pat kept his back against the railing, and he now saw Alec and Nicole. He gave them a quick nod of acknowledgment and then turned to Dylan. They stood close together, their arms touching. “What do you think?”

Dylan responded, “I say we follow the kid. He was a Marine.”
 

“Was?”
 

“Yeah, I guess he got transferred out to another division. Not sure. We don’t talk much anymore. I was hoping this trip would change that.”
 

“Does he know about us?” Pat asked, his voice quiet, but the breeze carried Pat’s words right to Alec’s ears.
 

Dylan smiled at Pat and placed a hand on his clean-shaven cheek. “My whole family does. What about yours?”
 

Silent, Pat looked away.
 

Dylan dropped his hand and gave a bitter smile. “Got it.”
 

They briefly acknowledged Alec and Nicole before leaving the deck.
 

“Romantic troubles.” Alec smiled before kissing Nicole’s head. Her hair was warm under the sun and despite everything, smelled pleasantly of flowers.
 

“I think they’re cute together,” she said.
 

Alec slid his fingers down her smooth arm and was going to take her hand to kiss it when he was interrupted by the sound of a gunshot. He sat up.

“Alec.” Nicole rose with him.
 

Evans emerged from the bridge above. He looked down at them. “It came from inside,” Alec told the Marine. Evans rushed down the steps and headed for the main deck.
 

Nicole looked to Alec, her eyes wide. “Are we in danger?”
 

“No.” He grabbed her shoulder, hoping he was right. “We stay up here.”
 

Howard soon came jogging up from the main deck, sweating and flustered. “You guys won’t believe what just happened.”

“What?” Nicole leaned forward in anticipation.
 

“Kale, he, he’s bit.”
 

“Is he—”
 

“I think he’s fine. Bit on the hand. They’re going to operate like they did with Erica.” Howard gulped, scratched his oily hair, then wandered off aimlessly.
 

Nicole spun on the lounge chair to meet Alec’s eyes. “What do we do?”
 

Alec stared past her, out at sea.
Keep her safe. I can’t do anything to help Kale. Nicole is what matters.
His fingers touched her chin, warm from the sunshine. “We let the others handle it.”

KALE

My hand! My freaking hand!
 

“
Sit back. Keep calm.” Pat repeated soothingly several times.
 

How can I keep calm?
Kale and his hand had been through so much together. Whether it was for good, for bad, for naughty or romantic things, he loved his hand. And soon he would lose it.
 

“Seriously, there’s no other way?” He kicked up on the bed but Pat shoved him down and took his hand.
My hand!
 

Pat forced Kale to examine. “Look at the bite mark. Look at it. See that moldy green? That gray color radiating out from the bite mark? That’s your flesh rotting. That’s you turning into one of them. I believe once that color reaches your brain, you’re one of them. I saw it on Erica’s leg. It spread from her ankle to under her knee before we took the leg. It didn’t spread after that.”

“Yeah!” Kale shrieked and lunged an inch. “It didn’t spread because you cut her damn leg off!”
 

Deputy Miller stepped to the bed with his stupid orange head. “I can put a bullet in your brain, like I did to her, if you want.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Kale snapped, furious.
He would, the sick bastard.
 

“In your own words, Kale,
meh
.” Miller chuckled at his own joke.
 

Kale turned to Pat. “Does he
really
have to be here?”
 

“He’s damage control.” Pat nodded at Miller’s pistol.
 

“But it’s
my
hand
.”
 

Miller toyed with his holster. “Either we take the hand or we take your head. Your choice.”
 

“Screw you, Jimmy!” Kale tried to lunge forward again. Pat shoved him back down to the bed.
 

“Enough!” Doc Dylan scratched his beard impatiently. “Deputy, will you please watch from the corner?”
 

Miller grunted in assent, snickered one last time at Kale, and then plopped on a stool. He crossed his legs, picked up a magazine and began to hum as he flipped through the pages.
 

Kale couldn’t believe his eyes and wanted to rip the man’s face off.
 

Dylan sighed and told the deputy to quit humming. He then went to the dresser, grabbed two alcohol bottles, and returned to Kale. “These should help numb the pain. Vodka or tequila?”
 

Kale’s frantic eyes shot from one bottle to the other. “Vodka. No. Tequila. Wait no, vodka. Screw it, give me both!”
 

“You sure?”
 

“You’re taking my hand, man!”
 

Dylan handed him the vodka bottle first. Kale rushed it to his lips and chugged it down.
Numb me. Make me pass out. Or better yet, sterilize the infection. Is it an infection? What the hell is it?
Who is to blame? The government? Modern medicine? Aliens? Deep-sea creatures? Talking apes?
All these thoughts turned through Kale’s head as he switched from one bottle to the next. He coughed several times, his throat burning. Vodka then tequila. Vodka. Tequila. Vodka. Tequila. Tequila. Tequila. He leaned over, grabbing his stomach and choked. Spit and tequila dripped from his mouth, his face dark red in color.
 

“Well, you gotta keep it down or it won’t work!” Miller chortled and slapped his thigh.
 

“Get. Him.
Out of here
!” Kale pushed on the bed for leverage, wanting to punch Miller, but both doctors grabbed him. Specialist Evans helped pin him. Evans was the fourth-to-last person Kale wanted to see, right behind Alec, Howard, and Jimmy Miller.
I hate everyone. EVERYONE.
 

Pat took the vodka bottle from Kale and poured the liquor on the blade of the axe, disinfecting it. He’d already rinsed it clean of Erica’s blood and flesh.
 

Dylan sat on the bed by Kale’s side, holding a tightly rolled wet shirt. “You need to bite on this.”
 

“I’m not hungry,” Kale said and laughed. His body felt warmer and his head was light and ready to float off his shoulders. He heaved a couple times, grabbed the shirt and waited to stick it in his mouth.
 

Pat knelt by Kale’s infected hand. He stretched Kale’s arm across a nightstand, placing it flat on the wood. Without looking back, he said to Miller, “Help hold him down.”
 

Kale wondered where Evans had gone. One minute he was there, the next he was out.
He probably can’t stand the sight of my face. He probably wants to shoot me like Jimmy does. How I hate Jimmy!
 

“Bite down,” Dylan ordered.
 

Kale cringed and sank his teeth into the wet fabric.
Don’t look. Don’t look.

He looked, and his eyes shot wide at the sight of Pat as he lifted the hand-axe over the wound. He glanced at Kale. “You’ll be fine.”
 

Kale spat the shirt out. “Wait!”
 

“Ah, damn!” Miller threw his hands up and pushed off the bed.
 

“We have to do this, Kale. We have to take your hand.”
 

“I know.” Kale turned to Dylan. “But first, more tequila.”
 

Dylan stayed in place and looked to Pat.
 

With his free hand, Kale grabbed the doc’s shirt. “Now.”
 

Dylan snagged the half-empty bottle off the ground and shoved it to Kale’s healthy hand.
Drain it
, he told himself. And he did. The bottle rolled off his fingers, dropping to the ground.
 

A long, burning burp singed its way off Kale’s lips. He wiped his mouth and grabbed the wet t-shirt. Before biting down, he looked hard and long at Pat and said, “Take the hand.”
 

Dylan and Miller locked Kale in place. His bitten arm was extended off the bed and placed flat over the nightstand. Kale kept his eyes closed, but he knew when Pat lifted the axe, and he knew the doc was about to strike. He opened his eyes and forced himself to watch. The axe blade hovered above his wrist. Pat was still, concentrating, aiming for his target. Kale quivered in place, held tight by the others.
The first swing is coming. Keep watching.
Earn your punishment. Earn it, you damn coward!

Pat swung the axe down.

Blood splashed across Kale’s face.
 

Pat swung again.
 

Bone crunched underneath blade.
 

Pat swung again.

The alcohol had done nothing. He felt everything. White-hot blinding pain burned through Kale’s body. The wet t-shirt fell from his gasping mouth.

Pat swung again.
 

Kale’s lips broke open, his body convulsing. Dylan and Miller fought to keep him down. He frantically swung his face from side to side.
 

A stubborn sliver of bone and skin still kept the limb attached.
Why is it taking so long?! God, why?
 

Pat swung again.