14. Alex

14 ALEX

I had a feeling the monsters would return, but I wish they hadn’t caught me off guard. I was trained better than this. I’m too distracted. By this murder. By the visions.

By her.

She ended up in the passenger seat, and Aislin and Laylen piled into the back seat. I’m lucky my engine didn’t freeze over, but the air inside the cab still hasn’t entirely thawed.

“They’re going to keep coming after me,” Gemma abruptly states, breaking the silence. “I think maybe you guys should drop me off at my house and bail.”

“No way.” Aislin slants forward and glares at her. “Don’t be dumb.”

“I’m not trying to be dumb.” She looks at me for help. “It’s better for you three to be safe than all of us to be in danger.”

I grip the steering wheel tighter. “Why are you looking at me? I agree with Aislin. Don’t be dumb.”

“I’m not being dumb. I’m trying to protect you guys.” She gestures at the back window. “Whatever is going on clearly has to do with me.”

“So? Everything that happens in this world—good and bad—has to do with someone,” I throw back at her. “It doesn’t mean we bail—we’re keepers.”

“So am I.” She squares my shoulders. “I was trained to take care of myself.”

My gaze flicks to her forehead, at the remnants of the wound she got earlier. “I know, but I’m still not bailing on you.”

“Alex,” she gripes, “stop letting your ego cloud your judgment.”

“It’s not my ego,” I snap at her. “I care too much about you to leave you to defend yourself.”

I so did not mean to say that aloud. With how much she loathes me, the last thing I need to be doing is making declarations like that. I could retract it, but the last time I attempted to do that, I came off like a frat boy pro douchebag.

Her lips part then shut. Then she stares at me, clearly struck speechless.

“It’s decided then,” Aislin chimes in as she reclines back in the seat. “We’re all sticking together.”

“Fine.” Gemma turns toward the window and stares at the trees lining the road we’re driving down. She doesn’t argue further, but I know her well enough that I’m aware she may go rogue and take off. She’s always been a bit self-sacrificing, even when it comes to something as simple as going out with a guy who she doesn’t have feelings for.

We make the rest of the drive in pure and utter silence. It’d be eerie except for the electrical bite of this connection Gemma and I share. It’s becoming so intoxicating that breathing is becoming difficult. My body is also begging to touch her, kiss her, even just hold her hand. A slight touch—it’s all about touch, as if the current seeks its counterpart.

I grip the wheel, my palms damp with sweat, as I steer around the winding turns of the road that twists higher into the mountains and farther away from civilization. The trees are shadowy blurs that blend in with the night, and it’s terrifying to think that anything could be hiding out there.

“Their eyes were glowing, right?” I ask, startling Gemma so severely that she jolts.

“Huh?” She blinks at me.

“The death walkers’ eyes”—I reach to crank the heater up—“they were glowing yellow.”

She nods, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “They were. I don’t think I noticed it that much the first time I saw one or even in that vision we were in. But in the dead of night, it was extremely noticeable.”

“What do you think they look like under the cloaks?” Aislin inquires as she scoots forward in the seat. “Has anyone seen?”

“You want to see what’s under their cloaks?” I question, catching her gaze in the rearview mirror and lifting a brow.

“Ew, don’t be weird.” She smacks me in the shoulder.

Gemma chokes on a laugh, so at least I managed to break some of the tension in the air.

“I was curious. Like, are they human? Hairy? Scaley?” Aislin asks.

“They look boney,” Gemma answers. “It’s like they create a shadow around themselves to hide that they’re just skeletons.”

“In books, it depicts them as being boney, too, and their skin is kind of yellow,” Laylen chimes in, leaning forward and putting himself right beside Aislin. “They’re pretty gross, like half grim reaper, half sickly vampire.”

“There you go with the vampire thing again,” Aislin mumbles, trading a look with Gemma.

When Gemma notices that I’m paying attention to the exchange, she hastily clears her throat. “Well, gross-looking or not, it doesn’t feel great to get bitten by their chill of death.” She visibly shudders then hugs herself.

I despise that she got attacked, that I allowed it to happen. I should’ve been there … If I’d pressed harder to find out why she loathed me for all these years, perhaps I could’ve been. But no, I had to bury it down, turn it off, avoid dealing with emotions.

It’s what I was taught to do.

Along with many evil, dark things. Things I pretend not to know about, but the truth is, they live inside my mind, feeding and festering, craving to be free.