The Infinite Sea (The Fifth Wave #2)(31)

“Sepsis,” Dumbo muttered. He noticed me staring dumbly at him and added, “When the infection gets into your bloodstream.”

“What do we do?” I asked.

“Antibiotics.”

“Which we don’t have.”

I sat on the other bed. Sam scooted to the foot, clutching the empty pistol. He refused to give it up. Ben was leaning on the wall, cradling his rifle and eyeing Evan warily, like he was sure any second Evan would bolt out of bed and make another attempt to take us out.

“He didn’t have a choice,” I told Ben. “How could he just stroll up in the dark without somebody shooting him?”

“I want to know where Poundcake and Teacup are,” Ben said through gritted teeth.

Dumbo told him to get off his feet. He’d repacked the bandages, but Ben had lost a lot of blood. Ben waved him away. He pushed himself from the wall, limped to Evan’s bedside, and whacked him across the cheek with the back of his hand.

“Wake up!” Whack. “Wake up, you son of a bitch!”

I shot from the bed and grabbed Ben’s wrist before he could pop Evan again.

“Ben, this won’t—”

“Fine.” He yanked his arm away and lurched toward the door. “I’ll find them myself.”

“Zombie!” Sam called out. He popped up and ran to his side. “I’ll come, too!”

“Cut it out, both of you,” I snapped. “Nobody’s going anywhere until we—”

“What, Cassie?” Ben yelled. “Until we what?”

My mouth opened and no words came out. Sam was tugging on his arm: Come on, Zombie! My five-year-old brother waving around an empty gun; there’s a metaphor for you.

“Ben, listen to me. Are you listening to me? You go out there now—”

“I am going out there now—”

“—and we might lose you, too!” Shouting over him. “You don’t know what happened out there—Evan probably knocked them out like he did you and Dumbo. But maybe he didn’t—maybe they’re on the way back right now, and going out there is a stupid risk—”

“Don’t lecture me about stupid risks. I know all about—”

Ben swayed. The color drained from his face and he went down to one knee, Sam grabbing futilely on his sleeve. Dumbo and I pulled him up and got him to the empty bed, where he fell back, cussing us and cussing Evan Walker and cussing the whole f**ked-up situation in general. Dumbo was giving me a deer-in-headlights look, like You got the answers, right? You know what to do, right?

Wrong.

32

I PICKED UP Dumbo’s rifle and pushed it into the kid’s chest.

“We’re blind,” I told him. “Stairway, both hall windows, east-side rooms, west-side rooms, keep moving and keep your eyes open. I’ll stay here with the alpha males and try to keep them from killing each other.”

Dumbo was nodding like he understood, but he wasn’t moving. I put my hands on his shoulders and focused on his jiggly eyes. “Step up, Dumbo. Understand? Step up.”

He jerked his head up and down, a human PEZ dispenser, and slumped out of the room. Leaving was the last thing he wanted to do, but we’d been at that point for a long time now, the point of doing the last thing we wanted to do.

Behind me, Ben growled, “Why didn’t you shoot him in the head? Why the knee?”

“Poetic justice,” I muttered. I sat next to Evan. I could see his eyes quivering behind the lids. He had been dead. I’d said good-bye. Now he was alive and I might not be able to say hello. We’re only about four miles from Camp Haven, Evan. What took you so long?

“We can’t stay here,” Ben announced. “It was a bad call sending Ringer ahead. I knew we shouldn’t’ve split up. We’re bugging out of here in the morning.”

“How are we going to do that?” I asked. “You’re hurt. Evan is—”

“This isn’t about him,” Ben said. “Well, I guess it is to you—”

“He’s the reason you’re alive right now to bitch, Parish.”

“I’m not bitching.”

“Yes, you are. You’re bitching like a junior miss beauty queen.”

Sammy laughed. I don’t think I’d heard my brother laugh since our mother died. It startled me, like finding a lake in the middle of a desert.

“Cassie called you a bitch,” Sam informed Ben, in case he missed it.

Ben ignored him. “We waited here for him and now we’re trapped here because of him. Do what you want, Sullivan. In the morning, I’m out of here.”

“Me too!” Sams said.

Ben got up, leaned on the side of the bed for a minute to catch his breath, then hobbled to the door. Sam trailed after him, and I didn’t try to stop either one of them. What would be the point? Ben cracked the door and called softly to Dumbo not to shoot him—he was coming out to help. Then Evan and I were alone.

I sat on the bed Ben had just abandoned. It was still warm from his body. I grabbed Sammy’s bear and pulled it into my lap.

“Can you hear me?” I asked—Evan, not the bear. “Guess we’re even now, huh? You shoot me in the knee; I shoot you in the knee. You see me butt naked; I see you butt naked. You pray over me; I—”