The Truth is Contagious (The Contagium Series Book 4) (38 page)

I went first, hoping for zombies. I channeled
my grief into rage and needed to take it out on something. With my
bow held to my side, I pushed the door open onto a small lobby.
Dust covered everything. Cobwebs clung to every corner. A plastic
Jack-o-lantern filled with cheap candy sat on the front desk.

I took the guys through a hall, past a
bathroom and volunteer lounge, emerging into the large
warehouse.

“Holy shit,” Jason swore, his hands drooping.
Cardboard boxes were stacked as tall as me, all full of presumably
edible food.

“Bring the truck around,” Hayden said to
Jason, fishing the keys from his pocket. Any other day, Jason would
have held the keys up like the fucking holy grail, like his role
model big brother had finally let him drive the cool sports car
home from school. But today he just nodded and left the
warehouse.

I remembered from my time here that almost
every box was identical in supplies, making it easier for mass
shipping. This place had once been full of donated food and boxes.
When the depression hit, more people needed the help and fewer
people were able to donate.

Pick
box
up
,
take
it
to
truck
,
put
it
in
bed
. I repeated that over and over in my head, keeping any
and all thoughts away. I lost count of how many boxes I moved. My
body was so sore. The cuts on my hands broke open, bleeding through
the bandages Hayden had wrapped around them.

I moved further into the warehouse, seeing if
there was anything unboxed to look through. I walked through a
narrow hall that connected two warehouses and pushed open a door.
There was a body in the corner, nothing but clothes, bones, and
bits of leathered flesh.

It was a woman, I guessed from the pink
jacket. She died curled up, with her hands wrapped around her
torso. Part of a name badge stuck out from the wrinkled material. I
swallowed hard.

“Gillian,” I read out loud and touched her
name tag. I remembered her. She was one of the few employees of
this place. I always seemed to get stuck with her during my
community service hours. She was quirky and upbeat and never got
annoyed or bothered with my constant teenage sarcasm and bad
attitude. Eventually, I started to like her. I took some of her
advice to heart, though not enough to keep me out of trouble.

I pulled my hand back. The name tag got
caught on my bandage. Her skeleton slumped over, landing at my
feet. Hers wasn’t the only body. A teeny little skeleton was curled
up inside of her, resting on her spine. That’s why she died holding
onto herself. She was pregnant.

Tears stung the corners of my eyes. I
remembered her talking about wanting a baby ten years ago. My last
stint of community service was a few days after my eighteenth
birthday. She came in crying, telling us that her doctor told her
the chances of her getting pregnant were slim to none. I didn’t get
it back then, didn’t understand why it was so upsetting.

I couldn’t look away from the tiny bones. My
lip quivered. Was this her first baby? Had she finally gotten
pregnant just to die?

“Riss?” Hayden called. No matter how hard I
tried, I couldn’t move. His footsteps came up behind me. I could
sense him looking at the body, taking in the fact that two lives
were gone. He slipped his hand into mine and turned his body in.
His other arm went around me.

Then I broke into a flood of tears. I sucked
them back in, shaking my head. “I’m fine,” I said and pushed off
Hayden. He didn’t let me go.

“No, you’re not. I’m not.”

“I am.” I waved my hand at Gillian and her
unborn baby. “It doesn’t matter. She’s already dead.” Suddenly, I
couldn’t breathe. Every inhalation was pushed out before I had the
chance to get the oxygen.

“Riss,” Hayden said, holding onto me.
“Orissa,” he repeated, voice breaking. “You’re
hyperventilating.”

I shook my head. No I wasn’t. I didn’t do
that. There was no point, it didn’t solve anything. I needed to
stop, stop crying, stop caring. I had a job to do. I leaned
forward, chest tightening to the point of pain.

Hayden cupped his hands around my face and
kissed me, soft lips pressing into mine. He opened his mouth,
sliding his tongue inside mine. Then I did stop, stopped panicking,
stopped repressing my feelings. I melted into Hayden, tears
streaming down my face.

He pulled away, gently biting at my bottom
lip, and pressed his forehead into mine.

“I act like I’m tough, like I know exactly
what to do all the time,” I whispered. “But I don’t. I wasn’t
prepared for this.” I closed my eyes, fat tears falling steadily.
“Caring about people and then losing them.” I shook my head. “I
don’t know how to handle this, Hayden. I…I can’t. I just
can’t.”

“Riss,” he said gently. “It’s ok.” He took my
hands in his. “We shouldn’t have come here. Not after…” he couldn’t
finish. “Let’s go. We’re not far from the farm and it’s not like we
can fit all this in here anyway. We can come back.”

He gave me a gentle tug. I didn’t want to go
home. I’d have to face reality there, have to deal with the fact
that Wade wasn’t coming with us, that I was never going to see him
again.

“Riss?” Hayden’s hazel eyes got misty. He
looked down and blinked. Darkness started closing in on me. We’d
have to go back to the compound at some point, have to tell Brock
and Ivan and oh God…Gabby.

I wiped away my tears and went with Hayden.
Jason’s eyes were red. He ducked his head, embarrassed, and loaded
a final box into the bed of the truck. In silence, we got in and
headed home.

* * *

The sun set. Brilliant orange clouds
stretched across the purple sky, reflecting off the glass of my
bedroom window at the farmhouse. The front door opened as soon as
we pulled into the driveway.

Hayden got out, waved to my grandpa, and
opened my door. My chest tightened when I saw the house.

“Back already?” my grandpa asked and limped
down the porch steps. He stopped short. “Four of you left.”

My hand froze on the seatbelt release. I had
to remind myself to inhale. Jason got out of the truck and went
around to the Jeep, telling Stephanie to stay inside until someone
directed them to the school.

My grandpa rushed through the overgrown yard.
Hayden met him halfway, explaining what few details he knew about
Wade’s death. I hadn’t told him what happened and he hadn’t asked.
I never wanted to think about it again. Ever.

I got out of the truck, not really processing
what I was doing. My grandpa hugged me and ushered me inside. I
took off my boots. They were spotted with blood. Fresh, red blood.
Wade’s blood.

“She was with him,” Hayden whispered,
thinking I couldn’t hear him as he spoke to my grandpa. “I don’t
know what happened.”

“She needs you,” my grandpa said. “Don’t
worry about the others. I’ll take them.”

“I’ll go with,” Jason offered.

My grandpa didn’t object. He felt bad for us.
“All right, kid,” he said. “Tell them to hang out for a few.” He
came into the living room, carrying a glass. Ice clinked on the
sides. “I believe this is your choice in poison,” he said with a
wink. He couldn’t fool me. I could see the desperate worry behind
his eyes.

I took the glass and put it to my lips. It
had been a while since I’d had a cold Jack and Coke. It was strong,
much stronger than anything I’d make for myself. I’ve must looked
like I was losing it. I certainly felt like I was about to. I
tipped my head back and tossed down the drink.

“Easy,” my grandpa said.

I put the glass on the coffee table, waiting
for the spinning to set in.

“Want to tell me what happened?” Grandpa
asked.

I shook my head. I hadn’t cried in front of
my grandpa since I was eleven years old when they picked me up from
my mom’s apartment. She had been passed out drunk on the living
room floor for hours in a puddle of urine and vomit.

“Did you see it happen?” he asked slowly.

I nodded. “I tried…” Tears rimmed my eyes. “I
wasn’t fast enough.” My arms wrapped around my torso. I swallowed
back a sob and bit my lip. My grandpa sighed and put his hand on my
shoulder.

“You did everything you could,” he said
definitely. “I know you did. We…we can’t beat them all. Jenny,” he
started. “I wasn’t fast enough with her either.”

I blinked. The tears I struggled to hold back
ran down my face. My grandpa gave me another hug. The room spun
when he let go. Good. I needed it to dull the pain.

“Why don’t you take a shower then lay down.
We’ll talk about this after you’ve rested.” He tipped his head,
looking into my eyes. “You need to talk about this, Rissy.”

I nodded, scared that if I opened my mouth
the entire truth would come out, retelling everything that
happened. My grandpa waited until Hayden was in the room to leave.
I heard the jingle of keys and Jason’s voice. The front door
closed.

Silence rang in my ears. Hayden sat next to
me, unmoving, not speaking for several minutes. I took in a ragged
breath and stood, walking out of the room. Hayden stayed close
behind me, only hanging back when I went into the bathroom.

“Do you want to shower?” he asked when I came
out. I shook my head and went into the kitchen, making a beeline
for the sink. I sank down, opening the cabinet to get the bottle of
Jack. My grandma didn’t think my grandpa should have drunk when my
mom became an alcoholic. My grandpa argued that he didn’t have an
issue and should still be able to. Why should he suffer for someone
else’s mistakes? Nevertheless, he started hiding bottles of booze
in the far reaches of the cabinet.

I went to the cupboard and grabbed a glass. I
filled if halfway with whiskey and took a swig, shuddering from the
taste. I found a box of Coke cans in the pantry and poured one
in.

Hayden stood behind me. He was likely
thinking that I had overfilled the cup. He sighed and put his head
in his hands. Then he took the glass from me and took a drink. I
had already chugged nearly half of it.

Instantly I felt sick. I put the glass down,
feeling the effects of the alcohol pull me under. I hooked my arm
through Hayden’s and closed my eyes.

Red
.

It was everywhere. Red blood, seeping out of
Wade’s eviscerated stomach. Digested food leaking from his torn
open intestines. My body went rigid. I felt like throwing up. I
couldn’t handle this. I reached for my glass.

“You’ve had enough,” Hayden said.

“No!” I argued. I closed my eyes and saw
Wade’s lifeless face. The skin had been torn off his cheek,
exposing the bone. “I can still see it when I close my eyes!”

Hayden’s eyebrows pushed together. “What,
Riss, what do you see?”

“Him!” I hunched forward. “I was right there,
Hayden. I tried to save him and I couldn’t. I tried.” I shook my
head, tears falling. Red spots floated in my vision. I needed to
sit down before I fell. I clung to Hayden for support. “He was
stuck and then they came. They pulled him apart and I tried, Hayden
I tried. I couldn’t get it back in.”

He wrapped his arms around me. “Riss…” he
trailed off and looked away. His eyes were red and full of tears.
Hayden brought me to the floor and into his lap. He held me,
rocking us back and forth while I cried.

“I’m so sorry, Riss,” he whispered. “I wish I
could fix this…fix everything.”

I moved my head up and down, listening to his
heart beat.

“Seeing someone die.” He stopped, getting his
emotions under control. “Seeing someone you care about die…it
changes you. When Ben…” He stopped and put his head down against
me, pulling me closer. I was warm in his tight embrace and was
scared that I would unravel if he let me go.

My head was spinning. I was drunk. Good.

“Let’s shower,” he said. “Together. I’m not
leaving you.”

I nodded. My body itched from the dried sweat
and blood. Hayden pulled me to my feet and I wobbled. I brought the
drink with us and ended up needing more help that I thought with
going up the stairs and washing my body.

We dressed in pajamas and got into bed. Jason
and my grandpa were back now; I could hear their voices coming from
the kitchen. I downed another few gulps of the drink, feeling
sicker by the minute.

Hayden spooned his body around mine, stroking
my hair. Silent tears rolled down my face, soaking the pillow. I
couldn’t close my eyes. If it wasn’t Wade, then it was the hanging
tree or Gillian’s dead baby. When I thought I got past that, Rider
showed up.

Finally, in a twisted haze of alcohol and
visions, I fell asleep.

I woke up screaming.

“Riss,” Hayden said, hands landing on my
shoulders. He gave me a gentle shake. “Wake up, Riss.”

My eyes flew open. “I’m awake,” I panted,
blinking. Images from my nightmare flashed before my eyes. “The
trees are bleeding.” Blood poured out of holes, holes made by my
arrows that stuck out of them, arrows that missed zombies, zombies
that ripped apart my friend before my very eyes, feasting on his
body until there was nothing left.

My face crumbled into tears. Hayden pulled me
to him. “Riss,” he said, his own voice tight with emotion. He
sharply inhaled and pressed his head against me. His chest
tightened and his body shook. I clung to him, shaking.

It was dark outside. The window was open and
a warm breeze blew into the room, sending the curtains flying. My
heart raced. I held onto Hayden, making myself aware of everything
about him.

His heartbeat fast too and his skin was
clammy from a cold sweat. His chest rapidly rose and fell. Light
from the hall spilled into my old room. I wrapped my arm around
Hayden’s left arm, tracing his tattoos over and over until I was
calm enough to let go.