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The Sole Survivor

Page 93

by E.S. Luck

“She’s not going to make it,” I said, my voice hollow.

I wanted Kimmy to deny it, to say that there was hope. Between the two of us, she was definitely the optimist in the family. I was a prepare-for-the-worst kind of guy.

So, in a way, it broke me all over again when she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. I couldn’t fall apart—not yet.

Kimmy swiped at her eyes, but her voice came out as a sob. “I don’t think she’ll last until we get back. The fever…it’s bad. And without antibiotics…”

I stared at the ground. “So, you’re saying that this doctor they’re bringing…he’s her only chance. Whatever he can do, that’s all we’ve got left to try.”

She paused, but then said, “Yes. But I worry—”

“Then that’s all there is to it,” I replied, mind made up. “I don’t care if it’s a trap, which it probably is. I don’t care what it costs, even if it’s everything we’ve got. I don’t care if a whole gang shows up with them when they get back. We’re doing this.”

“But what if—”

“It doesn’t matter, Kim,” I cut across her. “I know what you’re worried about. You’re not wrong. I just don’t care. If this has even a one percent chance of saving her…I’ll take it. I’d do the same for you.”

She let out another sob. “You already did. But if—if the worst happens, and—”

“If the worst happens,” I said, “then none of it will matter anyway.”

I knew by her expression that she didn’t like the dark look in my eyes. I bent to press a kiss against my wife’s burning forehead.

Chapter 32

John

When Granny died, I thought I understood what my grandfather was going through. I thought we all shared in the same grief. After all, she was the woman who’d raised me and Kimmy, the only mother either of us had ever known. Her death was a gut punch to our family and to the community who’d loved her.

But now, watching Claire struggle to breathe in her sleep, I realized I hadn’t understood a goddamn thing. What it must’ve been like for him, to watch the brave, beautiful woman he loved more than life waste away. The way he must’ve felt, in those few months he lived without her before his own death: so lonely, in a way that could only be eased by her. How heartbreak really could kill a man, and he’d welcome the end just for a chance to see her face again.

That was what it was like when someone became your whole heart. When they were every breath you took, and every beautiful moment you had. For a while, you got to keep them close, and every day, you got on your damn knees and thanked whatever stupid supernatural force gave you this gift that you’d live and die for at the same time.

And you accepted that when she was gone, it would destroy you. Forever. Because that was the price of love this deep, this consuming. Mutually assured destruction. The cost of that kind of love was always apocalypse. I understood that now.

I must’ve dozed off beside Claire, because when I opened my eyes again, the light had moved. Kimmy sat on Claire’s opposite side, keeping watch.

“Sorry,” I muttered, bolting upright. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” Kimmy said gently. “You obviously needed to rest. Not much to see, anyway. No sign of Asha or anyone else.”

I swallowed hard. “Do you think she was lying?”

Kimmy shrugged. “Hard to say when it comes to her.”

I looked over at Claire, who was still out. Her breathing sounded worse than earlier; the crackling with each inhale had gotten louder. Kimmy had put a cool compress on her forehead, but sweat was still visible on her upper lip.

“The fever’s worse,” Kimmy said, sounding hoarse. “I’ve been refreshing the cloth every half hour, but it’s not doing much at this point. The infection is taking hold.”

As if on cue, Claire coughed, and the crackling of blood and fluid was louder than ever. It sounded like a fucking death rattle, and I hated it.

“We wait till tomorrow morning,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice level. “Then we head home again—even if we’re not sure we can make it. We can’t keep waiting for a guy who may not even show.”

“Agreed.”

Our hope faded with the daylight. But right as I started gathering kindling for a fire, I heard voices. The horses nickered nervously as they grew closer, and I recognized Asha’s. I took my rifle into my hands; I wouldn’t be caught unprepared this time.