Page 24 of Outbreak

My face turns back to the road before us, my gaze blurry and unfocused as my heartbeat pounds in my ears. “This is happening.”

“Hey. Don’t panic,” he says, reaching over and grabbing my hand, interlacing our fingers. I can barely feel his warm skin on mine. I don’t think I’m in my body anymore. “I’ve got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I know you don’t trust me; I get that. But you can trust that.”

Lower and lower, I feel my mind retreating from reality and into myself. Into the cozy blank void where nothing matters and most importantly, where no one can hurt me. I want to believe him. I want to trust that he has my best interests and safety at heart. But I can’t. How can I? I don’t even know who he is. I feel like I do, but I can’t trust myself. My trauma-fueled brain makes me question everything I think and feel. How can I trust someone else when I can’t trust myself?

“Get out of your head, Rue. I need you to breathe for me. Slow and deep,” his tone is deeper, more commanding than before. My lungs comply at his will—obeying without allowing me time to overthink something as simple as breathing. My own body betrays me. My mind too, thrusting me back into reality, back into the truck with him.

“I don’t know you,” I whisper, the words nearly fading over the noise of the truck engine.

“Rue…” He starts, but his phone rings, cutting him off. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath as he untangles our hands and picks it up.

“Hey man, are you good?”

“Still breathing. And that’s more than I can say for half the world right now. Did you hear the broadcast?” A man's deep voice crackles through the speaker.

“Yeah, we just heard it. Shit’s getting crazy.”

“We? So, I guess you made it in time to pick up your package?”

“Yep. I got you on speaker man, I’m driving.”

“How far are you from the cabin?”

Cabin?I guess we’re going to a cabin somewhere.

“Not sure at the moment. Shit just got fucking real on the east side of the Mississippi River.”

“No shit. Louisiana is a dead zone now. And it's spreading through the south like wildfire. I’ll be at the cabin by morning. I’ll get everything prepped and ready. Cell service won’t be on much longer, so no detours. Make it here alive, Ghost.”

“You too, Reaper.”

“Have you seen one yet?”

“Yeah, a bunch. Had to kill two.”

“Yeah…” there’s a long pause as the weight of our new reality sinks in. “We lost Viper. It was bad, Ghost. I’ve never seen a fever so bad. It got so high, he started hemorrhaging from his fucking eyes. He died, man. I held his hand when he took his last breath. I was digging a grave for him, and he just… got up and came at me. I– I had to put him down.”

“Fuck,” Ghost growls, hitting the steering wheel once and sighing deeply.

“Just get to the cabin. We’ll be safe there until…” Static muffles his words.

“Reaper?” Ghosts asks before the phone beeps and drops the call.

“Fuck!” He hits the steering wheel again, making me jump in my seat, and my heart speeds up as he tosses the phone on to the dash. “Well, there goes the cell service. Fucking SOS.”

“Hey. Calm down before we crash. Who was that?” I ask, trying to calm us both before we end up in a ditch with the dead on top of us.

“A friend,” he says tightly.

“And we’re meeting him at a cabin?”

“Yeah,” his voice is still distant, reminding me of my own.

We ride in silence, both of us undoubtedly trying to figure out how to process the world as we know it being gone. It’s a heavy feeling. I can’t get out of my mind what his friend said. What did he even mean? Mallory and Noah are still in Louisiana. “Your friend—what he said about Louisiana. Do you think my friends are dead?”

“I—uh, I don’t know,” he says, and I appreciate that he doesn’t lie to me to soften the blow. It doesn’t make it hurt any less. I feel like someone just knocked the breath out of me. Tears stream down my face without my consent. I haven’t allowed myself to get close to anyone since…

No. Don’t go there right now.

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