True enough. Grumbling, I stuffed Cami’s keys in my purse and followed him to the van.
Reed rounded the vehicle ahead of me. He opened the front passenger door and gave a gallant bow.
The smell of marijuana and cheeseburgers wafted out as I gingerly climbed into the tattered vinyl seat. It was embarrassing how tender I was down there. Did having sex always hurt or is it something I’ll get used to? Cami would give me the unvarnished truth, but I couldn’t ask her because… she’s dead.
My insides hollowed out and tears burned the back of my eyes. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
By the time Reed circled back to the driver’s side and jumped into the front seat, I’d forced a neutral expression on my face.
“Ready for an adventure?” He set the bat down between us.
I just stared at him, unable to deal with his jovial attitude.
He put the key in the ignition and turned. The engine coughed and made a grating metal on metal sound. “She just needs a little time to get warmed up. Don’t you, love bus?” He rubbed the cracked dashboard affectionately.
I drummed my fingers on the side of the window. Time was something we didn’t have. “You have one minute to get this thing started or we’re switching vehicles.”
“She’ll start,” he promised.
The engine finally turned over.
I glanced out the window as Reed drove us down the street.
The neighborhood was quiet, but that wasn’t abnormal for this time of year. College students rented many of the houses on our street, and most of them went home on winter break. The rest of the homeowners weren’t exactly the eight-to-five white-collar crowd.
Reed waved to Jerry, a giant bear of a man who was pushing his trash can to the curb.
Jerry, who hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt, tipped his open beer in our direction.
“Gotta remember to take the trash out,” Reed muttered as he made a left at the intersection.
“We’ve got more important things to worry about than trash.” Like the bodies of our dead friends in the living room. I dug my fingers into the fuzz escaping from the holes in my seat.
“Mm-hmm. So, I was thinking we could do Thai tonight.”
I blinked rapidly. “What?”
“You know, for that birthday dinner you promised me. I’ve been craving some yellow curry from Lotus. Do you think Eden would give me a hard time if I got chicken instead of tofu? It’s my birthday and all.”
“Can you just drive,” I said tightly.
“Right—Jesus.” Reed slammed on the brakes.
Peeling myself off the dash, I scowled at him.
He was staring out at the liquor store where Uncle Duncan had parked last night. In front of the store, a man was pinned to the ground by a ragtag-looking group of men and women.
The man screamed and tried to beat them off. Flesh tore. Blood spurted.
Bile clawed its way up my throat. “Oh, my God. They’re eating him alive.”
“I should help that guy.” Reed fumbled with his seat belt.
I grabbed his arm. “Are you crazy? There are five of them.”
“Relax. I’ll be fine. None of this is real.” He started to open his door.
I leaned over him and yanked it closed. “Family first.”
The man on the ground stopped moving. The crowd seemed to lose interest. One by one, they stood and looked our way.
“Reed, drive!”
“Aye Aye, Captain.” Reed shifted, pressed the gas pedal, and the van shuddered down the street.
I glanced back at the crowd stumbling after us. The vacant looks made every hair on my body stand on end.
Reed hummed as he switched gears. “Do you want to stop at the Grinder? It’s on the way?”
“We’re not stopping for coffee!”
“You’ve got to chill. It’s not as if the world is ending.” Chuckling at his joke, he reached in his pocket and fished out a clove cigarette. A moment later he lit the end of it and the spicy-sweet smoke filled the van.
Where do you go when the world is ending? Away from people was the obvious answer. “We have to get out of the city.” Remembering Duncan’s offer made my pulse slow. Yes. We’ll go up north. “We need to meet Uncle Duncan back at the house by nine. We’re going with him to the cabin.”
“That’d be fun. We could go skinny dipping in the creek like we did when we were kids. Better watch for snakes.” Reed wagged his eyebrows suggestively.
The chaotic scene in front of us snared my attention. “Crap. It’s a madhouse here.” News vans and cars clogged the street in front of the police station.
Reed pulled up as close as he could to the entrance. “I can’t park here.”
“You’ll have to wait for me. If they make you move, circle the block.”
“But—”
I jumped out before he could argue. Clutching my purse to my side, I crossed the street.
It looked as if a press conference was going on. A gaggle of reporters with microphones outstretched surrounded a barrel-chested man in a police uniform.
“Chief Foster, what steps will the department take to control the Z-virus?”
“How is the department responding to reports of mobs attacking people throughout the city?”
“Is it true that soldiers from Fort Drexel shot three patients at the hospital earlier this morning?”
Oh, God. It sounded as if the city was going to hell in a handbasket. I hurried past the media circus to the twenty-foot-tall glass doors looming ahead. Pushing through one of the heavy doors, I came face-to-face with a metal detector and a bald officer blocking entry to the lobby.
The officer pointed at the conveyer belt. “Put your purse on the belt, ma’am.”
I set my purse down and watched it move under the X-ray scanner.
He waved me forward. “Step through the metal detector, please.”
I walked through.
Beep.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Could you please step to the side and empty your pockets?”
Crap. I just remembered that I’d grabbed my father’s knife and tucked it into my waistband before we’d left. Blood drained from my face. No doubt carrying a weapon into a police department was a crime.
“Ma’am.”
Sweat dripped down my neck. I pulled the insides of my pockets up so he could see they were empty. “I have a belly button ring, it probably set it off.” Hoping to distract him with a little flesh, I flipped up the bottom of Reed’s shirt. The red gem hanging from the gold ring winked under the fluorescent light.
The officer didn’t look convinced, or even mildly enticed by the sight of my abs. He grabbed a wand and waved it over my body. As the wand closed in on the small of my back, it let out a shrill noise.
“Turn around, ma’am.”
With a sinking sensation in my stomach, I complied.
The officer slowly raised the hem of my shirt.
A scream inside the lobby drew his attention.
I craned my neck around to see an older man on the ground. He was spasming and flopping in a pool of blood.
The elderly woman with him cried out, “Help. My husband’s hurt.”
“Stay here,” the officer ordered before running into the lobby.
Taking advantage of the distraction, I snatched my purse from the end of the conveyer belt and hurried after him.