Cinder Road (Scorch Series Romance Thriller Book 2) Page 9

  She’d inoculated Oona and several other doctors who were still healthy.

  “Come on!” Oona yelled at her again.

  “I’m sorry. What?”

  “We have to go. The hospital is being overrun.”

  “We can’t abandon our patients.”

  “Avital,” Oona took her hand. “I consider us friends. More than that, I consider us…I don’t know. But you and me, we’re tight.”

  Avital nodded. It was true. Oona and Avi had always been friendly, shared some sort of affinity, but over the past ten days as the flu raged through their city, the two women had formed a bond that was similar to that of soldiers in war. Thank God Oona didn’t fall sick before Avital could inoculate her. The last fifty-six hours would have been a lot harder without her sturdy presence.

  “But we can’t just leave our patients.”

  “Doctor, our patients are dead. If we don’t leave we’re gonna die, killed by these people. Desperation is making everyone dangerous.”

  Avital opened her mouth to speak but Oona cut her off. “I’ve got a kid and a husband of my own. I know you’ve got family. This hospital….” Oona waved her hand around the empty hallway. “It’s dead. Time to call it, Doc.”

  Avital glanced at the clock. “4:34 p.m.,” she said automatically.

  The door at the end of the hall burst open. A wall of humanity, men and women, their cheeks flush with fever, eyes wide with fear, poured into the space, raging toward Avital and Oona. What were they looking for? Some chance at survival.

  Oona grabbed Avital by the arm and they ran.

  The vaccine was a curse.

  She still had two vials left, shoved under her breast, held in place by the tight sports bra she wore.

  Their shoes squeaked on the linoleum as they ran. For the first time since Nando passed, she had a glimmer of why. He wasn’t meant for this world—the horror could steal your soul.

  Oona and Avital burst out the exit onto the loading dock. Flies lifted off the pile of bodies, a black cloud, mixing with smoke in the air.

  There were no drivers for the two body disposal trucks parked there.

  Avital finally, really understood that the hospital was dead.

  There was no one to call it.

  No paperwork to fill out.

  They jumped down from the loading dock and ran to the street. “You want to come back to my house? My son and husband are still healthy. You can stay with us.” Oona’s brown eyes shone with sincerity.

  Avital shook her head. “I’ve got to go home.” Dolf was waiting for her. She couldn’t just abandon him. She looked back at the hospital. Smoke rose behind it.

  It looked like her neighborhood was on fire.

  “Doesn’t look like there’s much to go home to.”

  “I’m going anyway.”

  The two women embraced, their hug fierce, their bond strong as iron.

  Avital let Oona go and they stood for a moment gazing into each other’s faces. Strength and health were there, but also weariness and failure. An unspoken understanding passed between the two women that, despite their survival, something in each of them had died. They couldn’t expect to ever be okay again after what they’d seen, heard, smelled, felt, and touched.

  Their patients were gone, lost in the frenzied fire of this disease. Scorch Flu was the perfect name for it.

  “Thank you,” Avital said.

  “Thank you.” Oona hugged Avital again. She said it like she knew that Avital had given her the vaccine, even though she’d just told her it was a vitamin booster.

  Avital reached into her bra and pulled out one of the extra vials, pushing it into her friend’s hand. “Vitamins, for your family.” Should she save it for someone else? Avital didn’t know what the right thing was to do.

  A pregnant woman had come in with her husband, a big handsome guy who’d withered from the flu, drowning in his own phlegm. He died in the waiting room and the woman collapsed. Her name was Mary.

  Avital was raised in a Jewish household but, having been married to a Catholic, the name “Mary” did something to her. Especially when it was a pregnant woman, and something about her reminded Avital of JT’s poor late wife of the same name.

  Mary hadn’t known what the shot was, and Avital still didn’t know if it was the right decision to try to save her. In the moment it had felt right, like the thing to do was save her and thus her unborn child, giving them a chance.

  It wasn’t like there was a protocol for this, like her past experiences could help her make these incredibly disturbing decisions. She was running on pure instinct. Avital started back towards her neighborhood. Each step pressed the remaining vial into the underside of her breasts, reminding her that she was a healer who was withholding help from others.

  She was so tired that the world was hazy. No, it was smoke in the air causing that—she could smell it despite all the horrible things she’d smelled in the last ten days.

  Out of the swirling smoke, a vehicle emerged.

  Painted matte black, the Army Humvee was huge and tall with darkly tinted windows. It stopped in front of her. She turned to run, but heard Dolf’s voice. “Avital!”

  He was stepping out of the Humvee, eyes intense and focused on her, his face chiseled granite—familiar, but not. Avital wanted to throw herself into Dolf’s arms, press her chest against his and feel their hearts beating together, feel the life and safety he brought. Instead, she just stood there staring as he approached her.

  “Avi, we’ve got to go.” He took her wrist and tugged her toward the vehicle.

  She dug in her heels. “What about the house? What about all my things?”

  “I packed you a bag. The neighborhood’s on fire and the house is gone. I’m sorry.” Dolf opened the back door. She stared up at him and he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and the memory of Nando doing that zapped through her, a moment of poignant déjà vu, as their eyes met. “It’s all gone.”

  Avital looked into the back seat and saw a man sitting there on the other side of Slash’s carrier. She recognized him from hanging with Frankie around the neighborhood. He had pale hair and cold green eyes. An automatic rifle rested across his lap.

  Dolf slid an arm around her waist. What was he doing? She felt his hand in the pocket of her scrubs, and a weight landed there. “Please, Avital. Just come with me. I need to keep you safe.”

  He looked down at her with the same eyes as her late husband, eyes she’d loved and trusted since she was sixteen.

  “Okay.” Avital got into the back seat. She was glad Slash’s carrier separated her from the stranger.

  Dolf got into the driver’s seat and passed her a pillow from the guest room, encased in a clean, navy blue pillow slip. “This is Joey. And Rusty’s back with you.” The men nodded at her, and she at them.

  Avital leaned the pillow against the window and rested her head on it, slipping her hand into her pocket and curling it around the .22 caliber pistol Dolf had put there. It made her feel safer, as he must have known it would.

  Sleep closed over her, deep and dark.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dolf

  Avital was finally in the Humvee with them. Thank God.

  Seeing her unharmed, trudging down the sidewalk toward them, Dolf’s relief had almost swamped him—as had the need to take her in his arms, crush her close, and kiss her with all the pent-up passion inside him.

  Thankfully, he’d remembered his mercenary audience and restrained himself—but the sight of her, pale and wan, swaying on her feet, her scrubs stained and filthy, would go down in his memory as one of her most beautiful moments. She was a true hero of this city.

  Joey had offered to drive once they were out of the city, and Dolf had been relieved. Now Dolf could keep an eye on Avital. He glanced back at her from the front passenger seat.

  She’d taken his pillow and was sound asleep, her soft pink mouth ajar and her face relaxed as she leaned on the window. She probably hadn’t slept in days
.

  Joey asked, “Want to stay on the freeway and just keep heading west?”

  “No, let’s get off the highway.” They’d already passed knots of stalled cars and accidents. “I’ve got a route that will keep us on back roads.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  Dolf stared down at the map open on his lap. His plan was to cut the men loose once they reached the Haven, or offer them work if they wanted to stay. There should be plenty to do in North Fork.

  He couldn’t let them know about the Humvee’s treasure, but he’d been friendly with Joey since they were in school together. The neighborhood connection they had would bind them all together as they got to know each other and faced challenges on the road. He glanced back and met Rusty’s flat green gaze.

  Well, maybe they wouldn’t all be friends. That was fine, too.

  Joey navigated smashed cars as Dolf watched the metropolis disappear in his side view mirror, covered in a pall of smoke. Outside the suburbs they entered open farmland and gentle rolling hills, the country road mercifully free of traffic. Rusty spoke for the first time from the back seat. “I’m hungry.”

  “I told you. The kid eats like a horse.” Joey gave a mirthless chuckle.

  “Let’s drive until dark.” Dolf reached down below his seat and pulled out a packet of beef jerky. He tossed it to Rusty. “I want to get some miles under us.”

  An hour later, Rusty piped up again. “Let’s pull over and fix some food. I need the bushes.”

  The sunset flared in streaks of orange, red, and yellow. At least the oppression of the dying city was behind them at last. A glance showed Dolf that Avital was still out cold. “All right.”

  The grass on the side of the road was calf-height and peppered with white, late summer daisies. As the Humvee pulled off into it, Dolf felt a prickle of alarm on the back of his neck—the Sight? He slid his hand inside his jacket, fingers curling around the Glock tucked in the back of his pants.

  That instinct was borne out as Rusty opened his door and stepped out, bringing his weapon up to point it at Dolf’s head.

  “Get out of the truck. Now.”

  Dolf eased his weapon into his lap as Joey lifted his hands off the wheel, yelling at his erstwhile partner. “Damn it, Rusty, what the hell you doing?”

  “Just relax. We’re all friends here. What do you want?” Dolf pitched his voice low and silky, hoping not to wake Avital as he eased his door open. If she stayed asleep, hopefully he could bargain with Rusty and she’d be none the wiser.

  “I’m allergic to cats, and this one smells. But I’ll keep the girl. I’m partial to redheads.” Rusty gestured with the AK. “Joey, get out.”

  “You’re a nut job, Rusty.” But Joey got out. He and Dolf exchanged a glance. Joey would make a move on this psycho or Dolf would.

  Dolf stepped out of the truck, moving slowly, sliding his hand around behind his hip with the Glock concealed in it.

  “Move away from the truck.” Rusty kept his finger on the trigger as it pointed at Dolf and Joey. He reached into the Humvee with the other hand and scooped the cat’s carrier out, dumping it onto the side of the road.

  Slash let out a pathetic, startled mew that tightened Dolf’s belly with rage and brought Avital’s head up off the pillow.

  “What’s going on?” She looked fuzzy and adorable, and clearly Rusty thought so too as he said, “Nothin’ to worry about, babe. Just sit tight and this will all be over in a minute.”

  “Hey now.” Dolf kept his eyes on Rusty. “You want money? I’ve got some stashed. Let me and my sister-in-law go and you can have it.”

  “Tell me where the money is and save me the hassle of finding it when I tear this Humvee apart.” The cash that Dolf thought of as bait money was easily accessed in the glove box, there to throw any thieves off the real treasure lining the Humvee’s doors.

  Dolf’s mouth opened to reply but there was no time to as a blast came from the .22 inside the Humvee.

  Avital had fired on Rusty, hitting him in the chest. The man’s finger depressed the trigger and bullets sprayed from the automatic, mowing down Joey and tearing across the dashboard of the Humvee.

  Rusty crumpled into the daisies, the AK silenced at last as it fell with him.

  Dolf’s gaze flew to Avital.

  She held the small chrome-plated pistol he usually kept in his ankle rig with both hands. Her face was chalk white, her eyes sunk in dark circles.

  “You okay?” He rasped. She looked at him. Blinked. Her eyes shone like a cat’s, caught in the headlights on a dark night.

  “Yes. Are you?” Avital moved forward on the seat, easing out of the Humvee to look down at Rusty, who was gasping and twitching, dying a slow messy death as his lungs filled with blood. Joey’s mangled corpse had fallen against the Humvee’s fender, almost cut in half by the rounds he’d taken.

  Dolf looked away from Joey’s body, his heart squeezing painfully. They had never been close, but Joey had been a good man, a man Dolf trusted. Now he was gone—leaving Dolf and Avital more vulnerable.

  “Put Slash back in the truck and get in the passenger seat.” Dolf barked the words as an order, to get Avital moving and turned away from the dying man. She picked up the cat carrier, making soothing noises to Slash, which only made the old tom mew louder as she put the carrier back into the Humvee.

  As soon as Avital’s back was turned, Dolf shot Rusty in the head, ending his struggle. It was more than the psychopath deserved, but he felt bad for the way Avital cringed at the sound, her shoulders hunching. Thankfully she was too smart to turn and look, simply opening the Humvee’s front passenger door.

  Dolf ran around the hood and opened the driver’s side door. Joey’s blood had spattered the passenger window, and Avital peeled a bunched handful of paper towels off the roll stowed in the passenger foot well. She came around and wiped at the blood and brains.

  Bile rose in Dolf’s throat at the powerful coppery smell, at the chunky nature of the gore, and he wasn’t surprised when Avital bent over and abruptly heaved into the daisies, though nothing came up. She probably hadn’t eaten in forever.

  He got into the driver’s seat, checking the damage. The wayward blitz of bullets had taken out the radio and the satellite phone, neatly stowed in a charger on the dash. Dolf’s hands were bloody as he fumbled for the key, and he wasn’t sure how that had happened. He’d never killed anyone before, and as many bodies as he’d seen since Scorch Flu broke out, this whole situation was different.

  Avital straightened up, wiped her mouth, and got into the seat, slamming the door. Her face was expressionless. He wondered about the horrors she’d seen in the hospital—she was different now, since the flu. She used to cry when her patients died, carrying the weight of those losses like a bag of rocks.

  Maybe that bag had finally overflowed.

  He turned the key, sending up a prayer that the Humvee still worked.

  The vehicle’s big engine roared into life, and he let out a held breath. Dolf pulled the Humvee off of the grass verge as Avital leaned forward, checking the radio. Air whistled through the hole shot in the dead piece of equipment.

  Dolf’s whole body had begun to shake, a fine trembling in the extremities, and his feet seemed very far away and numb as he worked the pedals of the Humvee, picking up speed. He sneaked a glance at Avital. She’d removed Slash from the carrier, and the cat sat in her lap, purring like a motorboat as she petted him mechanically—but Dolf could see the same tremor in Avital’s hands.

  They were both in shock.

  Dolf cleared his throat. “I’m pretty sure you saved my life back there.”

  Avital didn’t answer.

  “I’m sorry you had to shoot him.” Dolf couldn’t bring himself to say Rusty’s name. “I know that’s not what you’re about.”

  “Neither are you. We did what we had to do. I’m sorry Joey was killed.” Avital petted Slash harder, and the cat flattened out on her thighs, purring loudly in ecstasy.

  Do
lf had a flash of wishing she would pet him that way too—on his back, to start. Maybe his ass, or his abs—anywhere would be fine, really. As long as she ended up at his groin. That traitorous member twitched into life, and Dolf hunched forward to hide the bulge in his pants.

  God, he was disgusting—they’d just killed a man and barely escaped with their lives, and he was thinking of sex?

  But when was he not thinking of sex, with her?

  “You did the right thing,” Dolf said. “Look at me, Avi.”

  She did. Her eyes were hollow, shell-shocked, and empty. “You need to eat. There’s a bag of food I grabbed out of Mama’s fridge—some bread, cheese, apples. We have to eat it before it goes bad, anyway.”

  Avital leaned behind the seat and extracted the bag. She opened it, took out an apple, and bit into it. He let several moments go by as she ate. Slowly color came back into her cheeks. When she’d finished the apple, she took out the chunk of cheddar and then wrinkled her nose. “Phew. That stinks.” She put it back into the bag and took out the loaf of bread. “You want anything?”

  Dolf’s stomach was too knotted. “No, I’m good for now. Listen. You need to know this in case something happens to me.”

  She froze in the middle of a bite of bread. “Nothing will happen to you.” Her voice was muffled by the food in her cheeks. When had she eaten last? No telling. She wasn’t one to remember her own body’s needs when others were on the line.

  “Can you focus now? Listen to me. The doors of the Humvee are lined with ammo boxes. But it’s not ammo in there. It’s gold. The ammo looks real—I dipped the bullets in brass paint.” He blew out a breath, pushed a hand through his hair. “It’s our future.”

  “Our? What do you mean, our?” Her cheeks were pink again. Her eyes had brightened, which was a relief, even if the animation in them was antagonism at him. “This is your Humvee. Your fortune. It almost just got us killed. And it made me have to kill someone. Typical Dolf, thinking money can buy everything. But the world as we know it is over!” Avital’s voice rose to tip on the edge of hysteria. “Everything is gone! My life, my family! My home, my hospital, my husband….” She balled her fists and pressed them against her eyes, but when she looked at him, they were dry, burning with anger. “Fuck you and your gold. I want nothing to do with it.”