Page 30 of Hunted By Fae
It wasn’t terribly funny.
And yet, it was.
It was a relief that struck me like a blow to the chest and loosened my grimace into a lazy grin and released a harrowed chuckle—because Tesni woke up, she spoke, just to give that quick retort—burrowed too deep in her nature, to snap without thinking, to correct on instinct not malice.
That eased tension in me.
And we draped her onto the bed.
Louise plopped Ramona onto the only other available bed, across the rec centre.
Less than two hours.
That’s how long it took for Ramona to catch it.
Louise had to drop the supplies on the road in town to drag Ramona back to us, and by then Tesni was a mess.
That RV fast became a biohazard.
Whatever they are sick with, it came from the darkness.
First time Tesni choked on her own blood, the blackout hadn’t yet reached the shore.
The darkness has since spread all over. But the sickness caught us before the darkness was even overhead.
It infects the air.
Nurse Smith said so.
I didn’t need her to tell us that to figure it out myself.
It’s an airborne virus.
A lot of people of have it.
Not me.
Maybe because of my secret.
Maybe I could be immune.
All I know for certain is that I haven’t gotten sick.
Louise caught a bit of it, but it was more like a seasonal cold in her, coughs that never harshened into bloody hacking fits. The coughs lingered a couple of days, then vanished.
I wonder if it’s because she’s one of the healthiest people I’ve ever known. Macros and protein, lifting and cardio, never drinks, never smokes. Maybe she just has a prime immune system.
Ruby isn’t so lucky.
Her coughs started the day before we arrived at this makeshift quarantine—and she is now bedridden.
Just like Ramona.
Just like Tess.
The whole time we’ve been here, I haven’t left Tesni’s bedside for longer than a bathroom break.
I sit here on the hard chair that’s no good for my hips, and I will sit here until she wakes up.
