Page 33 of Surviving Her

“He has to be,” River said, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced at Eliza, her eyes red-rimmed with exhaustion. “He just has to be.”

Eliza swallowed the lump in her throat and kept moving, but the silence between them was suffocating. She couldn’t stop thinking about what River had said about the last time she saw her father—his face pale and feverish. She’d left him behind with promises to return, but now, with each step that brought them closer to the cabin, her mind replayed the final image that River had given her: her father lying on the floor, his chest barely rising and falling, the blood loss...

Is this guy really going to have survived? I doubt it. But I can’t tell her that. I’ve never once been able to tell her that. I’ll do everything I can to help. She needs me to.

Her hand slipped from River’s for just a moment. She reached out, grabbing for River’s arm, gripping it as if she might lose her in the growing darkness.

“Hey,” River said softly, stopping to look at her. Her face, despite everything, still held a glimmer of hope. “I’m not going anywhere. I told you that, right?”

Eliza nodded, though the weight in her chest wouldn’t lift. She couldn’t lose River. She’d lost her family already, and she was going to have to accept that she may never see them again, but River was now like her new family, and the surprising connection brought her some warmth in the new, cold, dark world.

She wasn’t sure how long they’d been walking—minutes, hours, it all blurred together—but when the outline of the cabin finally came into view through the trees, Eliza felt a surge of relief so powerful it almost knocked her off her feet.

“Is that it?” she shouted. “Is that your place, Riv? Please tell me we’re here.”

“Yes! There it is,” River said, her voice laced with disbelief. “We made it. We fucking made it!”

But as they approached the cabin, Eliza’s stomach twisted into knots. Something felt off. The air around it was too still, too quiet. She exchanged a glance with River, who was frowning as her eyes scanned the perimeter.

“Do you think…?” Eliza started, but the words died on her lips.

River didn’t answer. She pushed forward, her steps quickening as they neared the front door. The cabin’s wood was old and weathered, the windows dark, reflecting nothing but the growing gloom around them. Eliza’s heart pounded in herchest as River reached for the door handle, her hand trembling slightly. She hesitated, just for a moment, and then pushed the door open.

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of sickness. The dim light from the windows barely illuminated the small room, but there, on the bed in the corner, was River’s father, Thomas.

“Dad! I’m back!” cried River. “You got yourself into the bed? But how? Oh my God!”

“Thomas, hi. My name’s Eliza. I…” Eliza’s voice cracked as she rushed forward, her legs almost giving out beneath her as she reached his side.

He didn’t respond. His skin was gray, and his chest rose and fell in uneven, shallow breaths. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead and his eyes were closed, his face contorted in pain. There was a crumpled bottle of water next to his hand and a wrapper from some kind of protein bar.

“He’s lost so much weight. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. It’s worse than I thought,” River whispered, kneeling beside him. She placed a hand on his forehead and pulled it back immediately, her eyes wide with alarm. “He’s burning up. You don’t think one of them got in here, do you?”

“I don’t. He’d be dead if the infected had gotten in. Listen, Riv. He’s actually better than I thought he would be,” Eliza admitted. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she pulled the blanket back, revealing the full extent of his condition. His shirt was soaked through with sweat, and the wound on his leg had turned an angry red, the infection spreading outward like a dark web.

“We have to do something,” River said, her voice rising in panic. “Do you know how to?—”

“Calm down,” Eliza interrupted, though her voice was far from steady. “I can save him. I have to try.”

Eliza’s heart raced as River rummaged through what little supplies they had left. Her movements were frantic, her hands shaking as she grabbed a bottle of antiseptic and a few bandages.

“I can’t lose him,” River whispered.

Eliza’s hands hovered over Thomas’s body as she tried to push away the stress that threatened to cloud her judgment. “We have to clean the wound first. That’s the priority.”

River nodded, swallowing as she reached for the antiseptic and a clean rag. Eliza dabbed the antiseptic onto the wound and Thomas groaned, his face contorting. Her heart clenched, but she kept going. They didn’t have time for hesitation.

River’s voice was strained as she spoke. “Are you going to cut away the infected tissue?”

Eliza froze. “That’s the idea…but with what?”

River’s eyes were dark as she met Eliza’s gaze. “There’s a knife in the kitchen.”

Eliza’s stomach lurched at the thought, but she knew River was right. If they didn’t act fast, the infection would spread even farther, and then there would be no hope for Thomas.

“Fine. Get it. It’ll have to do,” Eliza said, her voice steadier than she felt.

River hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking to the door as if she were listening for something beyond the walls. Then, with a nod, she turned and headed to the kitchen to retrieve the knife. The silence that followed was suffocating. Eliza could barely breathe as she looked down at Thomas’s feverish face. His life was hanging by a thread, but if River realized just how bad it was, she wouldn’t be able to handle it. Eliza knew it.

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