Thicker Than Blood (Thicker Than Blood #1)(31)
My eyes widened with surprise. Had Alex just made a joke? Emotionally spent, half delirious from exhaustion and physical exertion, I couldn’t stifle the giggle that slipped past my lips.
“Ooh,” Evelyn cooed, nudging me with her shoulder. “Mr. Strong, Silent, and Sexy has jokes.”
My eyes widened in her direction, my giggle falling away as my mouth fell open. “Sexy?” I whispered, frowning. “You think Alex is sexy?”
She lifted one shoulder, letting it fall, a halfhearted shrug. “Sure, if you like pretty boys who are constantly brooding and moody.”
I stared after her, wondering how she could go from nearly crying to making jokes so quickly. She grabbed the frayed end of the rope ladder, and I watched as she deftly swung herself up, taking her only moments to climb to the top.
“Mints on the pillows, Lei,” she said in a singsong voice. “Very ritzy!”
Blinking and feeling strangely like crying, I shook my head and took a step forward. Pain shot up through my feet and into my calves, causing me to wince, and I found myself moving faster, despite my pain. After all, the sooner I got myself up there, the sooner I could sleep; and the sooner I slept, the faster I would heal.
As for the rest of it—what I’d done back in Fredericksville, my close encounter with becoming an infected’s dinner, Evelyn’s strange shift in moods, and the human deaths that were quickly piling up at our feet, either by my own hand or because of me. Well, I’d deal with it all later. Or never. Whichever seemed easiest.
? ? ?
A cold breeze swept over me, waking me and causing a wave of goose bumps to pebble my skin. Along with it came the delicious aroma of cooking meat. Turning on my back, I stretched languidly, wincing as pain in both my wrists and ribs flared to life. My head hurt as well, a dull pounding that only grew, drawing me further out of sleep and into full consciousness.
Opening my eyes, expecting to see a brightly lit forest, I blinked in surprise. The sun was nearly gone, only slivers of the fading light peeking through the heavy canopy of branches and foliage. Alex was seated across from where Evelyn and I lay beside each other, his legs crisscrossed in the small space allotted him. In front of him was what looked to be a large coffee can, and inside it a rather impressive fire was raging.
“Squirrel,” he said, lifting a small dark shape out of the flames. On a stick, the ends whittled to a sharp point, was speared the small body of a skinned and thoroughly cooked squirrel. My stomach growled again, this time louder, catching Alex’s attention and drawing out a smile.
Groaning, I pushed myself upright, trying to ignore my body’s protests. I was sore everywhere, more so than before. Everything that had happened over the last day or so—the beating I’d taken from Lawrence, the stress, the blow to the back of my head, the fight with the infected, our long trek on foot into the middle of nowhere—it had all caught up to me.
To make matters worse, I smelled awful, the most predominant odor being the urine coating my pants. Despite having dried, the urine had developed a bitter stench, as well as left the material stiff. Shifting uncomfortably, I folded my legs beneath me and hoped Alex couldn’t smell me.
“How?” I whispered, so I wouldn’t wake Evelyn.
He shrugged. “Found this can and some snare wire on another platform. Set a few traps and got lucky.”
“Wow,” I breathed out, significantly impressed. Give me a coffee can and some wire and I could have possibly potted a plant. Catching squirrels never would have occurred to me.
“Eat up,” he said, holding out the squirrel kabob in offering. “Plenty more where that came from.” He gestured to a small pile of squirrels beside him. I counted three more little bodies, already skinned, and all appearing to have had their necks broken.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the food, my chest near bursting with gratitude toward this man and all of his unexpected kindness. “Thank you for everything.”
Alex’s eyes shifted upward, and he loudly cleared his throat. “There’s a creek nearby,” he said, sounding suddenly uncomfortable. “Decent place to wash up in the morning.”
He was purposely changing the subject, obviously uncomfortable with my gratitude. I didn’t understand it, but neither did I push it. Instead, I blew on my hot meal, simply grateful to have one, grateful that my very best friend was alive and safe and sleeping beside me, and forever grateful to the man seated across from me who’d made all this possible.
We ate in silence, the only sounds from our continuous chewing, the bird calls from the hidden life within the depths of the forest, and Evelyn’s soft and peaceful snoring. Then, when my belly was full and exhaustion once again crept up on me, I lay back down beside Evelyn on the hard and uneven wood planks and closed my eyes. Only this time, before sleep could overtake me, I felt a light touch against my fingertips. Jerking, I opened my eyes to find Alex had moved closer to me, his hand barely touching me.
His eyes on me, he threaded his fingers through my own, his dirt-caked and calloused hand curling around mine. I was uncomfortable for a moment, then a soft, contented sigh escaped my lips and I squeezed back. I wasn’t sure why, maybe to convey the gratitude he didn’t seem to want to hear, maybe to share with him some sense of comfort. Either way, it felt oddly right, and I soon drifted off to sleep.
? ? ?
The creek was only a short distance from our shelter. Although my body ached fiercely and I felt as though I could have slept for weeks, I was able to manage the quick walk.