Page 123 of Afflicted

“Roanoke. The vamps in Savannah mentioned a human colony up there. Living free of vampire rule, apparently.”

I sit up, instantly alarmed. “A human colony? You want to take me-”

He hits the brakes, cutting off my words, and sweeps me into his arms. “Us, angel. I’m taking us to Roanoke.” He kisses me urgently, his lips soft and warm. “I’m going to get us safe, and then we can be together, alright?” His eyes bore into mine, and I can’t help but sigh.

“Alright.”

His mouth shifts into a smile. “You said you trust me, didn’t you?”

I nod emphatically. “I trust you, I do.”

“Good.” He kisses the tip of my nose, before turning back to the steering wheel. “Now, let’s get off these roads so you can rest.”

I have a million more questions, but I keep those for later. I can’t help the sliver of dread that winds its way around my stomach at the mention of a human colony. Humans with no vamps - what does that mean for us? I’m not leaving Silas, not after what just happened, not after what he just did for us to be together.

A strange thought begins to spin around in my brain. I think back on the conversation we had about him being turned. He’d said it wasn’t painful. It was like going to sleep and waking up a new person. That doesn’t sound bad at all. I begin to wonder if he’d do that to me, if he’d be my maker so we could be together forever. The thought makes me uneasy, because I don’t want to be a vamp. I want to be me. I want to be alive.

But I want to be with Silas too.

I startle awake to Silas’s smiling face. I blink at him in the overhead light of the truck, realizing it’s mostly dark outside. He’s backlit and beautiful, reaching out to gently brush my cheek with his fingers.

“You fell asleep.” He kisses my forehead and shifts me towards the door. “Come on, I found somewhere for the night.”

I rub my bleary eyes, trying to focus on our surroundings in the semi-darkness. We’re parked out front of a white farmhouse. Thick vines have taken over one half of the crumbling facade, pulling windows from their frames. The porch is mostly sagging, the once-yellow door long since faded, the inset window smashed. It would have been a real sweet house back when folks lived here.

Silas flicks on a flashlight for my benefit, lighting the way across the overgrown yard. The porch creaks loudly under our weight, and Silas pushes the crooked door aside for me.

“I did a sweep,” Silas says with a smile. “It’s all clear inside. Just you and me.”

“I like the sound of that.” I follow him in, gazing up at the ceilings, at the dusty pictures hanging on the walls. Blue and white wallpaper peels from the walls, dotted with mildew. I can make out a wedding picture under a layer of dust, and a pair of boots stand by the stairs. A sign sits over what I guess was once the dining room, thick cobwebs hanging from it.Eat Pray Love.

It all makes me shiver. People lived here. People who had lives, people who bought cheesy signs for their home and loved them, people who were married and loved each other. And now Silas and I stand in the wreckage of all those lost lives, in the stark glow of a flashlight, seeking shelter in what was once more than likely a happy home.

Silas gives my hand a squeeze, and leads me past the stairs into the lounge room. An old dusty couch stands to one side, an armchair on its back behind a smashed coffee table. I snap my gaze down to the floor when the flashlight washes over the bloody hand marks streaked across the wall, long since imprinted into a dark rusty banner.

“I wonder who lived here,” I murmur, sitting on the floor in front of the couch while Silas makes quick work of the wrecked furniture, moving it aside to reveal a fireplace. He doesn’t respond, just sets about building a fire with logs he must have retrieved from outside while I was sleeping. “Is that a good idea?”

He looks over his shoulder at me, and I gesture to the fireplace.

“Smoke. The National Guard, or the Afflicted, what if they notice the smoke?”

Silas shrugs and goes back to his work. “I doubt they’ll have drones out at night, it’s almost pointless.” He strikes a match, lighting cotton wool that looks like it’s soaked in accelerant, and drops it into the kindling where it lights up with a loud snapping. “And the Afflicted are too brainless to notice something like smoke at night. Too busy seeking out blood.”

My shoulders sag as what we’ve done begins to weigh down on me.

“What happened back there?” I ask as Silas moves across the floor to sit beside me.

He opens his backpack and pulls out a white bottle, shaking it before handing it to me. “Come on, you need to drink this.”

“I don’t want to drink that, I want to know what happened back there.” I stare determinedly at the side of his face, the growing fire illuminating his rusty eyes. “Something happened, please tell me what.”

“I told you, I killed Sam. We had to go.” He turns to look at me, and holds out the white bottle again. “Please, just drink something, and then we’ll talk.”

His tone isn’t making me feel any better. Something bad happened, I know that much. Sam said something that drove him into a rage. But I take the bottle with a sigh, twisting off the cap and taking a swig. It’s a protein shake, thick and chalky, and it coats my throat unpleasantly. But it’s filling at least, and Silas’s smile grows as I eventually down the entire bottle.

“I’ll hunt down some proper food tomorrow.” He presses a kiss to my temple.

“Proper food?” I cock an eyebrow as I gaze up at him. “You gonna fry me some roadkill?”

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