Page 61 of Waves of Fury

Aaron reaches her seconds before we do. “What happened? Hope, talk to me. Are you okay?”

She buries her face in her hands, letting out a pitiful cry. Hope is always tough and resilient. It’s alarming to see her so broken. Aaron pulls her to his chest, hugging her to him. With a deep breath, she swipes the tears off her cheeks and tugs out of his grasp to point at the road.

“They’re gone.”

“They already took Elise?” I ask, confusion in my tone.

“No,” Hope hisses. “They left her but took that prick with them.”

“Kyle?” Kellen asks. “Why would they do that?”

“I caught the tail end of it, but he convinced them she was going to die anyway. Offered them protection all the way to Oklahoma if they abandoned us.” Hope curses viciously and then squeezes her eyes shut as though to calm herself. “By the time I threw on my boots and went after them, they were already in the car, leaving.”

“Unbelievable,” Aaron hisses. “Un-fucking-believable.”

Dan and Wayne emerge from their tents, yawning and scanning our makeshift campground as if to see what the fuss is about. I decide to let them explain it. I’m going to need to assess Elise’s hands since it looks like we have a longer journey ahead of us than expected. After quickly grabbing my kit, I slip into the tent she shared with Aaron and Hope.

God, it smells awful.

Like burned human flesh and piss.

I unzip her bedroll where she’s been tucked inside and note that she’s indeed pissed herself. The skin on her face burns hot, which could be that she’s already brimming with infection or gone septic or whatever the hell happens when you burn your hands to bones without proper medical treatment after or any sort of pain relief.

“Fuck,” I bite out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Kyle was right. She’s going to die anyway. Not that we couldn’t have tried, but it’s inevitable. The world’s gone to shit, there’s no help anywhere, and she’s mortally injured. I pull on some rubber gloves and then start unwrapping the gauze on her hands. A putrid scent meets my nose and I barely hold back a gag.

She’s stopped crying or making pained sounds. In fact, she barely flinches when I expose one of her hands—or what’s left of it—to the air. It’s horrifying. A skeleton hand covered in bloody goo that stinks of rot and infection. The other hand must look just as bad. Rather than using up more supplies, I gently rewrap her hand and rest it on her stomach.

“We need to put her out of her misery,” Jesse whispers from the tent opening. “She’s too fucked up, Ty.”

I peel off the gloves and scramble out of the tent past him. Kellen stops me, pulling me into a fierce hug.

“She bad?” he asks, voice resigned.

I nod, unable to keep the tears from welling. Even though I’m no doctor, I felt responsible for her care. I’m helpless to do anything for her. My shoulders quake as I try to contain a sob. Kellen’s palms rub up and down my back, soothing me some but not completely.

“I’ll do it,” Jesse says to someone. “Give me a gun.”

Me and Aaron both growl out a, “No,” at the same time Dan says, “I’ll do it, son.”

Kellen releases me and I turn to Dan. He stares at the tent, frowning hard. Last week, he was a dentist. This week, he’s going to euthanize a young woman because it’s the humane thing to do. Funny how much everyone’s lives have changed in such a short period of time.

“Pack everything up and get ready to go,” Dan rasps out. “Once it’s done, none of us are going to want to stick around.”

Everyone takes their turns at the bathroom while we pack up our supplies and tents. It’s decided that we’ll leave the tent Elise is in and take the one Kyle abandoned in his haste to escape. Finally, as the gray dawn dimly illuminates the skies above us, it’s time for Dan to do the job he volunteered for.

“Take my family and go,” he chokes out to Jesse. “I’ll catch up to you all.”

The group hesitantly begins walking away. When it’s only me, Kellen, and Dan left, I nod at Dan, who disappears inside the tent. I can hear him whispering an apology. Then a sudden bang pierces the air, making me and Kellen both jolt.

She’s dead.

Elise, who hours ago was vibrant, alive, and healthy, is now gone.

Seconds later, Dan staggers out of the tent and barely makes it out before he’s puking all over his boots. Kellen approaches him, hands him a bottle of water, and then gives him a firm clutch of his shoulder—a silent offer of support.

No more words are needed.

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