Wren brewed a pot of coffee, needing the caffeine to stay awake. Her body was sore, getting progressively sorer every minute that passed. She popped three ibuprofen, downing them with lemonade. Her pain was from fighting with Russo. Elijah had insisted on putting a plastic bag full of ice on her cheek, but it just made her too cold. One look in the mirror in the bathroom earlier told her everything she needed to know about her fight. Bruises were developing on her hips, elbows, and knees, and she found a few cuts on her knuckles. The pain in her soul from today’s events was not something that could be soothed and would remain embedded there forever, joining so many other painful events she’d endured.
She sat next to him on the sofa with her coffee, which he’d refused when she offered, and watched the news channels. He was wearing his jeans again since they had enough time to dry. The flannel shirt and hoodie were ruined, though, so he’d have to wear Uncle Jamie’s shirt home.
They flipped channels until they found one talking about the flu virus. It seemed that just yesterday the numbers had skyrocketed in some countries overseas. They were promising that the CDC and the local health departments in America would have a vaccine soon.
“That’s a relief,” she said.
“You don’t believe that, do you?” he asked incredulously and turned to look at her. “After what we’ve seen and the secret videos? And they aren’t even talking about the mutated version, that RF2 one.”
“Maybe they got something worked out.”
“In the last three days? I don’t think so, Wren.”
She wanted to hope. It was better than the alternative. Maybe after a day like today, she needed a little hope. It was not an emotion she was very familiar with.
Jamie came home after midnight, and she never felt better.
“Did you find him?” she asked immediately.
“No,” he answered. “I’ve called in for help.”
“Called who? The police?”
His dark eyes jumped to Elijah standing next to her. “What’s with the questions, football player?”
“I think I have a right to know.”
Jamie chuckled as he removed his jacket. “No, actually you don’t at all. Now, listen up. You are to tell nobody about what happened today at the school, that Wren was taken by that son-of-a-bitch Russo, or that she shot him…”
“I wouldn’t. I may not understand any of this, but I wouldn’t say anything that Wren asked me not to say.”
“Wren’s not asking. Neither am I. I’m telling you, boy,” he clarified, to which Elijah lifted his chin in an irritated manner. “You will not discuss being here, where she lives, or ever having spoken with her or me. Erase this day from your memory.”
“You administered stitches to a stab wound in my stomach four hours ago, remember?”
Elijah was not backing down from her uncle, who could cause grown men’s courage to curdle under his weighty stare.
“You did that yourself,” he corrected. “If you have to go to the doctor if it gets infected, then you will tell them you accidentally cut yourself throwing knives and screwing off and didn’t want to get into trouble, so you stitched it yourself.”
She looked up at Elijah, who was a lot taller than her uncle. He was glaring angrily.
“Fine. In return, I want to know what’s going on here…”
“You can leave now.”
“What?” he asked with surprise.
“Your brother has come out of his coma, and is doing better,” he told him. “You should go and see him.”
“What the hell?” Elijah swore. “How do you…”
“Neither of you will be expected at school tomorrow. That’s already been handled.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“You can go,” Jamie told him pointedly and inclined his head toward their trailer door.
Wren watched with wide eyes as he stormed toward the door after Jamie handed him his keys.
“Remember, Brannon,” Uncle Jamie warned. “Not a word. I’ll know.”
When Elijah left, Wren watched as he locked the doors and checked all the windows. Then he crossed the living room and took her into his arms where she hugged around his waist so tightly she didn’t know how he was still breathing.
“Let me look at you, honey,” he said tenderly and pushed back her hair from her forehead. A vein worked in his forehead. He shook his head.
“It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“Did he…”
She quickly put that issue to rest. “No. He didn’t rape me. He was definitely going to. I think he was going to kill me, too.”
“I’ve got some intel on Russo,” he explained. “Talked to Roger while I was tracking the bastard. There was a string of murders in a fifty-mile radius from here over the last ten years. Seventeen young women. Police have been working with the FBI but never caught him. Roger said he thinks Russo’s their man. A serial killer. Perfectly disguised as a family man with a good career, primed for the collapse of society. He just pulled the trigger a little soon.”
She shivered. Russo, a serial killer, and he’d had her in his grasp.
“But I got your phone and your spent casings,” he told her. “No trace of the crime will be there in another few hours.”
Wren sighed and took a deep breath. “If it wasn’t for Elijah…I don’t know. He saved me. He really did.”
“Come. I think you have some things you need to tell me about this Elijah Brannon, Wren.” He said this quietly and led her to the sofa, where he examined her wrists. “Sit,” he ordered. Then he deftly rose and returned with their medical box. Uncle Jamie applied salve to her wounds and left them uncovered as Wren told him as much as she felt comfortable telling him about Elijah. She left out the part where she spent the night at his house and then ended up allowing him to stay overnight at hers instead because his was attacked by those crazy people. He loved her, but his patience and leniency didn’t run as deep as his love.
“Also,” she added. “I was at the school the other night when I said I was at the library.”
His look of disappointment cut straight to her heart.
“I know. Sorry. I should’ve told you. I just didn’t think you’d believe me. Heck, I don’t think I would’ve believed me.”
She went on to explain the incident at the school and what Russo told her about it earlier today.
“Great, so the local police are covering up these events,” he said. “Tells me it’s bigger already than they’re letting on. I got word during my meeting about it. I was warned. They already know about it, but I wonder how much even they know.”
She told him about the secret videos they’d found and researching at the hospital.
“You know you can’t be on the interweb, Wren,” he reminded her.
“I know. I didn’t log on. Elijah did. He used the school credit card and a public computer at the hospital. I didn’t leave even a trace.”
“Put tape over the camera?”
“Of course,” she said, remembering the strange look she got from Elijah when she’d done that. “Do you think we’ll move sooner now because of what happened tonight with that principal?”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said with a sigh. “As a matter of fact, it looks like that may be on hold.”
“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving next week for Tacoma.”
“That might not be possible right now. Not with all this virus shit going on. They said both schools they were considering putting you in were closed for sanitation.”
“Oh,” she said with surprise. “But two people in our school had it. One was the teacher I mentioned. How come they didn’t close ours?”
He shook his head and gave a shrug. “I can’t imagine why. Makes no sense. They know they’ve got a contamination here now.”
“So, we’re in a holding pattern?”
“Yes, so keep your head down. Moving is going to be difficult until this settles down. You’ll skip school tomorrow, and I’ll decide about the rest of the week after I’ve gotten some rest. I don’t want you in the school again until Russo’s dead.”
“Jamie, do you think this is going to settle down, this virus? What if it doesn’t? What if it’s like those doctors who were being filmed were saying?”
“I don’t think it’ll come to that,” he said. “We’ve had lots of scares with big flus. This one probably won’t be any different.”
“But some of those people are…” she said and shivered before continuing, “they’re really violent and…I don’t know how to describe them. You won’t understand unless you see one for yourself.”
“I have. Sort of. The guy with the hammer at work? I saw him from afar. He was out of control.”
“Yes. That’s what they are. It’s like they aren’t even human anymore. Or, at least, the part of them that is kind or rational or empathetic. Elijah thinks they have evolved DNA or mutated something or other.”
“Elijah, huh?” he asked with suspicion.
She swallowed and looked away with a frown, “It’s not like that.”
“See to it that it’s not, Wren,” he said.
“I know,” she answered and felt his hand turning her chin to look at him directly.
“I mean it, Wren. This is not the time to get involved with someone. Not now. Maybe someday in the future. But, while we’re still moving every few months, that just wouldn’t be fair to you. I don’t want you to get hurt. And we can’t trust people.”
“I know,” she agreed, although she felt like she could trust Elijah. For some odd reason, Wren trusted him, and it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that he saved her from Principal Serial Killer. There was just something about Elijah that made her feel safer, despite the fact that she was angry with him for ditching her off yesterday, which she still didn’t understand because he hadn’t explained it. She trusted him kind of like Uncle Jamie, although nobody could replace him. There was a lot about Elijah that stirred other feelings, but that was definitely never going to happen. Distance. That was more practical.
“Go to bed, kid,” he said and stood, helping her stand. “You need rest. A lot of it. When I go out again in the morning, I want you sleeping, resting, and taking it easy. No running around, no babysitting, no leaving the house.”
“Oh, I forgot to ask,” she said, turning back to look at him from the hallway. “What happened with my car?”
“It’s been taken care of,” he answered. “You’ll have a new one tomorrow.”
“’Kay,” she said with a yawn that hurt from the bruising around her face.
“Maybe I’ll get you a cool, classic muscle car like that kid’s.”
She chuckled. “Or maybe a tank.”
“Or that,” he agreed and offered a smile.
Wren turned to go but looked back one more time when she was sure he wasn’t watching her. She felt terrible. Jamie looked completely stressed out. He ran a hand through his hair and down over his face. Then he got out his silver, military-grade Toughbook and opened it. The computer screen immediately glowed green and waited with the usual prompts.
When she got to her room, Wren replaced the spent cartridges in her magazine, ran the short, oiled cleaning rod down the barrel, slammed the mag home again, and crawled into bed with her clothing on. The outfit was basically what she would’ve worn to bed anyways. She made sure to set her boots right beside her bed on the floor in case she needed them. It was how she slept most nights. She wondered if there would ever be a time in her life when she didn’t do that.
She plugged in her phone, and the screen lit with text message alerts. The fact that Elijah had her phone number was also not something that she shared with her uncle.
Are you okay?
The next series of questions and comments had also gone unanswered by her because she’d been talking to Jamie for the last hour and a half.
Text me before you go to sleep. I won’t sleep tonight until I hear from you.
Are you there?
How pissed off is your uncle? He is a seriously intense person.
There is something I need to talk to you about, Wren. This is serious. It’s about yesterday.
The next few messages came twenty minutes later.
My brother is awake. He looks like crap. He’s complaining already and wants to leave the hospital. Nurse Nancy is with us.
She was so glad for Elijah that his brother was going to be one of the lucky ones. She knew how close they were.
I’m sorry about what happened to you today. I feel so damn guilty. I was waiting on the front steps outside for you like an idiot. I shouldn’t have left you in there with him alone. I just never thought…I’m so sorry, Wren.
This comment broke her heart a little. It was certainly not Elijah’s fault. It was her own. She had shut down her inner voice, and it had cost her.
Alex is coming home in the morning. I want to see you tomorrow. We need to talk.
That was his last message around one a.m. Wren wasn’t sure if she should text him or wait until morning or never text him again. He might’ve gone to bed by now anyway. No text. That was the right decision. She jumped when her phone vibrated in her hand.
I miss you. I can’t explain it, either. Don’t ask me to. I also don’t know how you got it in your head that I’m screwing around with other girls. I’m not. I was serious when I said I only want you. It’s true. You irritate me and piss me off a lot, and I know you have a lot of secrets, but I like you, Wren Foster.
This made her think about what Uncle Jamie just warned her. He was right. She had no business getting into any kind of a relationship right now. Every time she told herself she was going to avoid Elijah, he found a way back into her life. It was so confusing, and so were her feelings for him. She needed to get him out of her life. Not text him ever again. Her fingers had other ideas.
I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. That stuff at the school wasn’t your fault. You should just forget about me, Elijah. Sorry. That’s just the truth.
It didn’t take a long time to get a reply to this.
Not gonna happen, Foster. And I know you feel something, too. We have some sort of weird connection. Don’t bother denying it. Admit it.
Where did he get that kind of confidence? Was he just used to getting his way when it came to girls? He was annoying. And a lot of other things, too.
I can’t see you tomorrow or any other day. I need to go to bed now. If Uncle Jamie finds me on my phone, he’ll be angry. Thank you for everything you did today for me, but I am not allowed to see you ever again, not outside of school. Goodbye, Elijah Brannon.
Typing those words stung her heart. They apparently didn’t stick, though.
Goodnight, not goodbye. And I’ll find a way for us to see each other tomorrow. Till then, xx Elijah, the hot guy from school with the great abs.
She chuckled, then clamped her mouth shut so as not to alert Jamie. Something in those stupid little ‘x’s’ made Wren’s heart speed up a tad. That was so ridiculous. She turned off her phone and rolled over, smarting at her sore ribs.
She couldn’t sleep. All her mind kept wandering to was Russo’s hands on her body. When she thought of how he’d touched her, it made Wren want to get up and go to the bathroom to puke. He’d touched her like nobody else ever had, she knew Russo would haunt her dreams for a long time to come.
Her usual distrust of people just jumped off the scales. Trust was an impossibility for her, but now she’d never fully trust anyone other than Jamie. Maybe Elijah Brannon. But maybe not completely. She wasn’t sure how she felt about him, really. Avoidance was probably best.
She rolled back over and uncapped the lid to her bottle of sleeping pills. It wasn’t a prescription, not one filled by a pharmacy, but they were the same popular, commonly prescribed sleep aids. They were just in an unmarked prescription bottle given to Jamie to give to her for nights just like this. Sometimes her nightmares plagued her. Today’s events with that man would only add more fuel to the already violent, horrific nightmares she had on a weekly basis. She was not new to people wanting to murder her. Principal Russo was just the most recent.