Cinder Road (Scorch Series Romance Thriller Book 2) Page 8

  This wasn’t his kitchen, those were not his wedding dishes, that wasn’t his mess. It was hers!

  Avital sagged against the wall and stared at the freshly mopped floor. She was being insane. It wasn’t Dolf’s fault that Nando did what he did. The poor man was just trying to help her, take care of her, the way his dead twin had asked. Damn it!

  Avital went upstairs and packed a small bag with all her fresh underwear and as many scrubs as would fit before using the stale water in the tub to clean herself. Dressed and ready to return to work, she came downstairs, pausing in the hallway to look into the neat kitchen.

  Avital didn’t need to be taken care of—she was the one who took care of others. The sooner Dolf realized that, the better off they’d both be. Ana’s words came back to her—take care of my boy. Ana knew Avital and understood her. Clearly, she wanted them together, at least platonically.

  God, why had Avital agreed to look out for Dolf? She could hardly be in the same room with him for five minutes without her conscience and her libido going to war!

  Ana never would have asked if she’d known what they’d done. Nando, too, had tied them together through the house and through making Dolf promise to care for her. He’d thought they needed each other, and Ana believed the same thing.

  She’d just have to prove them wrong.

  Avital didn’t need Dolf. She didn’t need him to take care of her by installing a generator, by cleaning up her mess, by helping her forget her pain with his rough hands, hard mouth, and loving touch….

  No! This was insane. She had to get out of this house.

  Avital threw open the door and, picking up her bike, hurried down the steps. She pedaled hard, using the physical exertion to block the overwhelming memories of their night together.

  “Hey, slow down, sweetheart,” a man yelled. Avital glared in his direction. It was Frankie, and next to him stood Dolf and a few other guys from the neighborhood. She threw Frankie the finger and kept on riding, a stab of guilt slicing into her gut at leaving Dolf there. Dolf’s eyes looked pure black as they followed her speeding progress. Maybe Ana was right. Maybe he was getting in too deep in trying to protect them—but then, she hadn’t asked for his help. She needed to stay far, far away from that man.

  Chapter Nine

  Dolf

  Dawn came and the air was steamy and smoky-smelling as it blew through the twins’ old bedroom window in Mama’s house. Dolf had spent two sleepless, nightmare-riddled nights alone, the house silent and empty, since Mama and Lucy left for the Haven with JT and Elizabeth. Eyes gritty in the gray light of morning, Dolf threw off the denim quilt his mom had made for his bed so many years ago, constructed of the boys’ old blue jeans.

  In spite of all of their best efforts, Avital still refused to leave the city.

  Frustration energized Dolf as he propelled himself out of bed and across the room. He was done waiting. It was time to go; he’d met with his men and they were ready, too. He’d pack Avital’s stuff today and find a way to get her on the road—even if he had to kidnap her and throw her in the Humvee himself.

  He’d have done that when JT was still here, but he’d hoped that she’d see reason with Mama and Lucy getting on board. No such luck. Avital seemed determined to kill herself at that hospital, just as she’d told him she would.

  Dolf dressed quickly, strapping on his weapons. Arming himself had begun to feel normal as he spent every day working with the other healthy men in the neighborhood patrol. In spite of their efforts, it was becoming more and more obvious that the city was dying along with her people. Every day that their shifts gathered, there were fewer and fewer of them. Dolf was grateful for the vaccine Elizabeth had treated them with, but felt guilty too—there was only so much to go around. JT had told Dolf they didn’t have enough for Frankie and the boys, that giving the shots would arouse too much suspicion.

  They were all truly on their own to figure out how to survive—and yet by banding together, their neighborhood was still strong compared to other parts of the city.

  Dolf fed Slash, pausing to scratch the grizzled old tom behind his missing ear as the cat munched his Tender Vittles. Slash gave a rumbling purr, his broken tail twitching, and Dolf wondered how he’d ever made do with only the cat’s company at his place in NYC. Now that he’d spent more than a couple of weeks surrounded by family, Dolf felt his isolation more than ever in the emptiness of their departure.

  Dolf packed the remaining food from the kitchen that might be useful on the road and made sure the Humvee was gassed up and ready to go. Leaving the house, Dolf locked the front door. As if that would matter or keep anyone out. He walked down the stoop into the street. Dolf had an intention, a momentum—ready or not, it was time to go.

  Frankie was seated on his stoop, familiar shotgun across his knees. He looked pale and sweaty, and he bent over, coughing, as Dolf approached. JT was right, there would have been no way to vaccinate him without causing the whole neighborhood to go nuts trying to obtain more of it. He didn’t envy JT and Elizabeth the burden they carried.

  “The fire is coming this way,” Frankie said, when he’d stopped hacking. “This city is going down.” He bent his head as his shoulders shook with another wave of coughing. “Joey and Rusty are going to be glad of the job they took with you.”

  Dolf had met with his ex-Marine friend Joey, and the young neighborhood tough guy that Joey had hired for extra muscle, to go over their exit plan yesterday. He wasn’t surprised Frankie knew about it—it was his job to know everything that went on in the neighborhood.

  Dolf didn’t approach the dying man. He crossed his arms over the twin shoulder holsters that held his Glocks. “We’re leaving today. I’m sorry you’re sick, man.”

  Frankie nodded his head, and Dolf saw the knowledge of death in his defeated expression and slumped shoulders. “I had a good run. Maybe I’ll be one of the ten percent immune.”

  “Wish I could do something for you, man.” Dolf raised a hand in farewell as he headed for Avital’s, jogging the several blocks. He fetched the spare key from under the mat where he’d stashed it after cleaning up the other day. It still gave him a pang to retrieve it, rusty from disuse, from when his brother had shown him where it was hid.

  The future had looked so different then.

  Avital wasn’t at home, of course. The place smelled of antiseptic, with a faint note of musty decay, as if it were beginning to die, too.

  Dolf walked upstairs and into the master bedroom. The bed where Nando had died was still stripped—she hadn’t returned to it. Feelings rose up to choke him as he faced the closet.

  Grief. Frustration. Determination. Guilt. And that dark lust, always simmering for her in the back of his mind.

  The last time he had been in this bedroom, Avital had been in his arms.

  He pushed his brother’s dangling shirts aside and reached deep into the musty recesses to pull out the many-pocketed, high-end backpacks Nando had bought, intending for him and Avital to “spend more time in nature.” Avital had rolled her eyes when Nando busted out the expensive, lightweight nylon packs, with their low back support, many straps, and brand name.

  She and Nando had never used them—the tags still hung on the bags. Dolf couldn’t help remembering the hiking he and Nando had done as Boy Scouts, always together, sharing a tent, a canteen…sharing everything.

  If he and Avital ended up having to walk all the way to the Haven, these packs would get some use. Reaching in for the second backpack, he discovered an old black leather doctor’s bag—the kind used for home visits. It must have been Avital’s father’s. He’d bring that too—it couldn’t hurt.

  Dolf forced himself to open the bureau drawer and look through Avital’s clothing. Underwear, socks, blue jeans, sweatpants, shorts, a couple of colored tank tops all went on the bed. Touching her clothes was like touching her—soft and silky under his fingers.

  He rolled each item tightly and packed it. He wanted to leave plenty of room for food, wa
ter, and bedding. He scanned the room. Was there anything that she would not be able to live without?

  A silver-framed wedding photo adorned the top of the bureau. Dolf picked it up. Avital wore a tight-fitting wedding gown with a sweetheart neckline, one of the only times he’d ever seen her in a dress that really showed off her stunning figure. Her veil was a waterfall froth of tulle against Nando’s black tux, and his brother’s grin lit up the photo.

  Dolf would never forget that day and how the two of them looked at each other during the ceremony. He’d stood next to Nando as his best man, but closed out for the first time from a circle that contained only two. Dolf stood on one side in the photo, expressionless and immobile—which people took for not caring, as they always had.

  He’d left the reception early with one of Avital’s willing and eager friends, and woken in the wee hours tangled in her sheets, hung over and sickened by too much champagne and meaningless sex.

  Dolf turned the photo face down and removed it from the frame. He tucked it into one of the side pockets of Avital’s pack. It was the least he could do to honor what she and his brother had.

  Packing from the bathroom was easy—toothbrush, sunscreen, bottles of aspirin and Tylenol. He already had a large medicine chest in the Humvee, packed with all the other things he’d stockpiled ahead of time. Lugging the packs and doctor bag, he headed down the wooden steps, his feet ringing on them for the last time.

  When he got downstairs he could hear a distant roar through the open window. There was a crackling sound to it, like a million crickets tuning up, and the breeze brought a curl of smoke to his nostrils. The fire was coming this way.

  Avital wouldn’t be able to stay if there was nothing to return to.

  Dolf fingered the gold lighter in his pocket.

  The house was probably going to burn anyway. Better that he destroyed it himself, and save her life by getting her out of Philly. Besides, it was half his, and he would compensate her—buy her a new house, when they got where they were going.

  Not that she’d ever forgive him if she found out…but desperate times called for desperate measures.

  The generator out back still held some precious diesel gas. He splashed the gas around, soaking the cushions of the couch and dipping the pretty living room curtains in the harsh-smelling accelerant. He flicked the lighter, and held it to the corner of one of them.

  The sight of flame sweeping up the lacy drapes would be branded on his mind forever.

  Walking back to Mama’s, carrying the packs, he locked the guilt down deep.

  Nando was gone. The life his brother had lived there with Avital was over. Saving her life was all that mattered, and that meant getting her out of the city. Nando would have agreed.

  Back at his mother’s house, Dolf stowed the backpacks and doctor’s bag in the Humvee and disassembled the crude patch job he’d done on Mama’s fence. Dolf retrieved every drop of gas from the variety of containers he’d been using to hoard it, and stowed the cans in the back. He captured a complaining Slash and stuck him in his carrier in the middle of the back seat.

  Even with all that he’d packed in the Humvee, there was still plenty of room for four passengers and Slash’s carrier. Good. They were going to need it.

  Dolf paused by the mound of dark soil in the back yard. The flowers the women had put on Nando’s grave had long since wilted. He bent, touched the soil—it was dry, almost chalky from the recent hot days, and his fingers closed over a handful.

  He put the dirt into his pocket when his fingers simply wouldn’t open to let it go.

  His throat had locked up and he was unable to swallow, let alone speak to say goodbye to his twin.

  Get Avital to safety. That was what Nando would have wanted, what they both wanted.

  Dolf turned and drove the Humvee out of the back yard.

  Rusty and Joey were waiting for him in front of Frankie’s. Joey still kept his hair buzzed military-short, but he wore a thick gold chain around his neck with his army surplus fatigues. Rusty, the muscle he’d hired, was a thick Irish kid with a big Adam’s apple and spooky green eyes. They were both strapped and looked ready for business.

  “You can stow your gear in the way back,” Dolf said, getting out of the Humvee.

  “Looking forward to getting out of this hell hole,” Joey said, clapping him on the back. “Right, Rusty?”

  “Right, boss.” The kid was chewing gum, but even that didn’t make him look less menacing, and he carried his own AK-47 and a pistol. Good. No one would mess with them on the road.

  “Hope you packed extra food. Rusty eats like a horse.” Joey said, with a lift of his chin toward the vehicle. “Guess you said goodbye to Frankie.”

  “He’s going down,” Dolf said.

  Rusty’s flat green eyes were expressionless. The mercenaries climbed into the Humvee, Joey in front and Rusty in back. Dolf fired up the vehicle.

  “We’re picking up a passenger at the hospital. One of the doctors. She’s not likely to want to come. We’re going to make her if she won’t agree. Down with that?”

  “Dumb bitches need a man to show them what’s best now and again,” Rusty said.

  “Don’t disrespect my brother’s widow.” Dolf adjusted the rearview mirror to eye the young man down—and then took one last look at Mama’s house.

  Theirs was just an old row house on a block lined with the same—but it was filled with memories, and he was sure this would be the last time he ever saw it.

  Four blocks away, Dolf had to turn a corner as flames from Nando and Avital’s house shot twenty feet high and made the street impassable. The building was nothing but a giant bonfire, spreading quickly to the other homes.

  “Looks like the fire jumped.” Joey jingled the ammo bandolier crossed over his chest.

  “Must have.” Dolf flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror to where Rusty sat, his AK cradled in his arms. He suppressed the twinge of grief and horror that tightened his chest as the pyre of his brother’s house disappeared in the rearview mirror.

  He was getting Avital. They were getting on the road. The end justified the means.

  Chapter Ten

  Avital

  Nando kissed her collarbone lazily, moving across Avital’s chest, heading for her breast.

  “No, Nando. Not again. I can’t.” She laughed, a tired and happy sound.

  Nando mumbled something she couldn’t understand, his mouth filled with her nipple.

  “I have my boards tomorrow.” She sighed at the stinging, wonderful sensation of his mouth pulling at her. “I need to sleep.”

  “You know you always do better on tests when you’re relaxed.”

  Avital laughed and it turned into a soft moan as Nando kissed down her rib cage.

  “You’re insatiable.”

  He nodded against her skin.

  “You really think it went well today?”

  He nodded again, at her belly button now.

  It was their first time hosting Sunday dinner in the new house. Deciding to host a family dinner on the day before the most important test of her career to date maybe hadn’t been the best idea.

  “I liked Sarah, the girl Dolf brought.” A well-educated, beautiful blonde woman, Sarah had helped with the dishes and imbibed her fair share of wine. She’d seemed really into Dolf, hanging on his arm even when he ignored her. “Maybe she’ll be the one to stick.”

  “Maybe.” Nando’s voice was doubtful.

  Avital lifted her head and looked down at her husband. “Maybe what?”

  Nando looked up at her. His dark eyes had a gleam of green, the way they always did when he wanted her. “You know he’s in love with you.”

  Avital laughed. “Ha. But seriously. I liked Sarah. They seemed good together.”

  “I’m sure he likes her too.” Nando kissed Avital’s hip, nipping at the bone. “But he’s been in love with you since high school. From the moment he saw you. A goner. Just like me. Poor bastard.”

  Avital
stared down at her husband. Was he joking? “I’m going to forget you ever said that about Dolf.”

  Nando’s chin rested on her hip. His expression, usually playful, had turned serious. His lip curled down, and she saw sadness in the shift of green in his eyes. He moved back up her body, leaving a trail of kisses until he was up near her face. She touched his chest, hard and supple under her hand. The hair that grew there was the perfect mix of rough and soft, just like his touch. “So serious all of a sudden,” she whispered.

  “Yeah.” Nando ran his thumb along her bottom lip and then bent to taste her. “I just feel sorry for my brother now and again.”

  “Dr. Luciano!”

  Avital shook herself awake. Oona was yelling at her. Avital was standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall, the florescent lights flickering above, causing a strobe effect. She’d fallen asleep standing up. Avital looked up at the clock on the wall. 4:29 p.m., August 27.

  She had not slept in what seemed like days.

  Oona was speaking to her. Avital struggled to focus, staring at the woman’s lips. “Doctor, we’ve got to get out of here.”

  Oona looked over her shoulder, back toward the emergency room.

  Avital followed her gaze. The space was still and empty but there was a rumble, like a storm coming. Glass smashed, a metal table overturned somewhere. The hallway they stood in was quiet because they were the only living people in it.

  They’d stopped filling out death certificates. As of twelve hours ago they’d become just a way station, a stopover on the way to the quicklime graves.

  People arrived and died.

  Avital helped carry the bodies, their faces slackening in death, out to the loading dock. The pile there was growing too big to keep up with. Avital had inoculated the driver and his assistant, but there was only one truck still running.

  And, by the time Avital got back to the hospital with the vaccine from Elizabeth, Dr. Keller had started showing symptoms. The fever took him quickly. He died on his feet, slipping down the wall, a crumpled corpse—just another husk to carry to the trucks.