Barely Alive by Bonnie R. Paulson Page B

we’ll get back to you.”
    Standard, but the woman’s voice was cold, affected. Why weren’t they worried about their daughter? Why weren’t they sitting on their phone, ready to spring in case Heather called. Unless Dominic had reached them. Or something else less appealing.
    Worry over my family would have to wait. And I wasn’t that worried anyway. I don’t think he knew anything about them – but hell, he’d hypnotized me, so who knows.
    An ambulance screamed down Boulder highway blocks away. Did they seek one of my kind or were they escaping a scene? The lights were on. The sirens blared. But something seemed unnatural in the way they careened from side to side, speeding up and slowing down in sporadic patterns.
    I leaned against the adobe covered wall.
    The ambulance drove through intersections, eating up the lanes like a Pac-Man game.
    The ambulance turned too sharp, clipping a median and tipped to its side, metal screeching on the pavement as it slid more than a block on the road.
    In seconds Heather stood beside me, watching the accident with a mixture of worry and curiosity. Terrible things often held people’s attention without any rhyme or reason. They can’t turn away as it unfolds.
    A breath. Another. Eyes blinked. Another breath passed.
    Something pushed the windshield from the front of the ambulance. From the distance, the lurching creature resembled a man with a blue shirt and black pants. He straightened up and turned toward a street. The front of his shirt was stained red.
    Another moment passed and two more emerged from the back of the van, their arms held out at odd angles at their sides. They followed the first man, in our direction.
    Paranoia set in. No way would they be able to sense us from that far away. Too many other humans and other animals not to mention buildings and distance stood between us. However, that didn’t matter. I needed to get Heather out of there. Just because she was immune didn’t mean we couldn’t eat her. And not all of us were conscientious about making sure prey was dead. Especially new ones.
    I pressed my back against the wall and nodded toward the pile I’d gotten for her. “Grab what you can carry. We’re going to head into the neighborhood and steal that car over there.” I pointed my finger at an old blue Nova crouched on the street in front of a trailer. I’d hot wire the machine, if I needed to. Dominic had taught a lot of awesome skills, illegal but useful. I looked at her. “I can’t carry you to Summerlin. Not as fast as we need to get there.”
    She crouched down and gathered up the snacks and drinks. “Are those people down there like you?”
    I didn’t answer. Cold sweat beaded on my upper lip and on my back. I didn’t want her to die. If they got her, she would. One way or the other. She couldn’t change so they wouldn’t stop. She’d resemble the carcasses I’d left in that barn. “They aren’t exactly like me. They have no idea what they are or how to control their cravings. At this point, they’re still mindless under the control of their needs.”
    She grabbed my hand. “I’m ready.” She whispered.
    We speed-walked down the slight incline to the road thirty feet from the building. I spoke to keep her from freaking out. “That’s one thing I’m glad Dominic did. He worked on us for a bit, hypnotized us, but controlled us while we gathered our minds and understanding.”
    I looked both ways at the road, not for cars but for any strikers. They’d be coming for us, if they knew she was with me. They’d fight for the right to eat her, like hyenas in a pack, but without a distinct leader. They worked together until the meat was in sight and then all hell broke loose. Or they fought each other, eating and tearing and gnawing.
    Heather pushed the button on the Nova and the door opened. She slid into the passenger seat. I followed suit on the driver’s side and breathed deep. I’d rather not hot wire the old-school sedan.