I sat on a plastic crate in the back of the pharmacy. My legs felt like lead.
The jerky I'd eaten was a salt bomb in my gut. I washed it down with lukewarm bottled water.
Janiella was asleep on a pile of decorative seasonal pillows she'd dragged from aisle four. She looked peaceful. (haha).
A girl who tried to eat my face four hours ago was now dreaming about whatever girls dream about. It was a joke.
Lena, the nurse, was sitting across from me. She was staring at a flickering emergency light.
Her skin was clear. Her eyes were back to normal. But she was shaking.
"It's not real," she whispered. Her voice was brittle.
"Which part?" I asked. I didn't look at her.
"The silence. The fact that I'm sitting here. The fact that you..."
She trailed off. She couldn't say it.
"The fact that I'm your life support?" I finished it for her. I leaned my head back against the cold brick wall.
"Yes," she said. She finally looked at me.
Her gaze was heavy. It wasn't gratitude. It was resentment mixed with a terrifying dependency.
"Don't look at me like I'm the one who broke the world, Lena. I just found a way to glue a piece of it back together."
"A piece that breaks again in a week," she countered.
I shrugged. My shoulders ached.
"Take it up with the Golden Rain. I'm just the delivery man."
I stood up. My knees popped. The sound was like a gunshot in the small room.
I needed to check the perimeter. The pharmacy felt like a cage.
I walked to the front of the store. I peered through the gaps in the metal shutters.
The street was bathed in a weird, sickly yellow glow from the dying streetlights.
There were dozens of them out there. Maybe hundreds.
They weren't moving much. They were just standing. Sniffing.
They looked like statues made of grey meat. It was the "devious" stillness.
One of them was leaning against a mailbox. He was feeling the texture of the metal with his tongue.
The sensory obsession was weird. It was like their brains were re-wiring themselves for touch and smell.
And they really liked the smell of me.
I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the air conditioning. I was a lighthouse in a sea of hungry shadows.
If they ever realized I was behind this thin layer of aluminum, they'd peel this building like a grape.
I walked back to the pharmacy counter. I started loading a backpack.
Antibiotics. Bandages. More protein bars. Every calorie was a second of life.
I found a stash of multivitamins. I swallowed three.
I needed my body to be a factory. I needed to be efficient.
I looked at Janiella. She shifted in her sleep. Her shirt pulled up, revealing a stretch of chocolate skin.
She was beautiful. In the old world, I would have had to work for a girl like her.
Now, I owned her time. I owned her soul.
It didn't feel as good as I thought it would. It felt like a chore.
I felt the weight of the "One-Week Fuse" pressing down on my chest.
In six days, I'd have to perform again. Then for Lena. Then for whoever else I picked up.
My life was going to be a series of transactional climaxes and desperate escapes.
Anyway. Better than being a naked statue licking a mailbox.
I heard a thud from the roof.
I froze. My hand gripped the brass lamp.
It wasn't the wind. It was a heavy, deliberate step.
Then came the clicking. Click. Click. Click. They were on the roof. They were looking for a way in.
"Hex?" Janiella was awake. She was sitting up, her eyes wide with terror.
"Quiet," I hissed.
I looked up at the ceiling tiles. They were cheap. Flimsy.
Something heavy moved above the manager's office.
The clicking intensified. It sounded like a dozen giant insects were dancing on the shingles.
"They found us," Lena whispered. She had crawled over to the counter.
"They followed the scent," I realized. "The truck. We brought them right to the door."
I was an idiot. A tired, arrogant idiot.
I looked at the back exit. Then at the front.
We were pinned.
"Get your bags," I commanded.
"Where are we going?" Janiella asked.
"Up," I said. "If they're on the roof, we need to know how many. And we need to find a way to the next building."
I grabbed a ladder from the storage closet. I set it up under the ceiling hatch.
My heart was racing. I felt the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
It was a sharp, bitter contrast to the exhaustion.
I climbed first. I pushed the hatch open an inch.
The night air was cold. It smelled like ozone and wet asphalt.
I saw a figure. It was perched on the edge of the roof.
It was a man. Large. Muscular. His skin was shimmering with a faint golden residue.
He wasn't clicking. He was watching the street.
He turned his head. His eyes weren't just bulging. They were glowing.
A faint, sickly amber light.
This wasn't a normal Deviant. This was something else.
An Alpha.
He saw me. He didn't lunge. He tilted his head.
He smiled. It was a slow, wet movement that revealed rows of black teeth.
"Hexald," he croaked.
My blood turned to ice.
They weren't just devious. They were learning.
The voice was like two stones grinding together. It didn't sound human.
But it used my name. How did it know my name?
Maybe it saw my ID in the truck. Maybe it remembered from before.
The Alpha took a step forward. His movements were fluid. Not erratic.
He was in total control of his new, mutated body.
"Cure," he whispered.
He wasn't hungry for meat. He was hungry for the power in my veins.
I slammed the hatch shut. I bolted it.
"What is it?" Lena asked. She was at the bottom of the ladder.
"Something new," I said. My voice was shaking.
I climbed down. I was breathing hard.
"We can't go up. There's one up there that can talk."
Janiella let out a stifled sob.
"Talk? How can they talk?"
"I don't know. But he's waiting for us."
I looked around the pharmacy. We needed a distraction.
I saw the rubbing alcohol. The high-proof stuff.
"Lena, grab the gauze. Janiella, find some lighters."
I started pouring the alcohol over the greeting card aisle.
If we were going to die, I was going to turn this place into a furnace.
Life is a bad joke. But I wasn't ready for the final curtain.
I lit a match. The flame was small. Pathetic.
But it was enough.
I dropped it. The alcohol caught with a blue 'whoosh'.
The 'Get Well Soon' cards began to curl and blacken.
"To the back door!" I yelled.
We sprinted. Behind us, the fire started to roar.
The smoke was thick. It tasted like chemicals and burnt paper.
I hit the crash bar on the back door. We burst into the night.
The Alpha was waiting in the alley.
He dropped from the roof like a cat. He landed silently.
He stood between us and the truck.
"Mine," he croaked.
I gripped the brass lamp. It felt like a toothpick.
"Get behind me," I told the girls.
I wasn't being a hero. I just knew if I died, they were worse than dead.
The Alpha lunged.
He moved faster than anything I'd ever seen.
I swung the lamp.
He caught it.
He ripped it out of my hand like it was made of paper.
He grabbed me by the throat. His hand was cold. It felt like iron.
"Hex!" Janiella screamed.
She didn't run. She grabbed a brick from the ground.
She slammed it into the Alpha's back.
It did nothing. He didn't even flinch.
He lifted me off the ground. My feet dangled.
His eyes were inches from mine. The amber glow was blinding.
"The pharmacy is closed," I choked out. (haha).
I felt his claws sinking into my neck.
Then, the pharmacy exploded.
The pressure wave knocked us all to the ground.
The Alpha was thrown back. He hit a brick wall with a wet thud.
I scrambled to my feet. My throat was burning.
"The truck! Now!"
We scrambled into the cab. I didn't wait for doors to close.
I floored it. The tires spun on the grease-slicked asphalt.
We fishtailed out of the alley.
I looked in the mirror. The Alpha was standing in the middle of the fire.
He wasn't burning. The flames seemed to lick his skin without harming him.
He watched us drive away.
He didn't follow. He just stood there.
He knew we couldn't run forever.
He knew I had a deadline.
One week.
The clock was still ticking. And now, something was counting along with me.