Frequency (The Frenzy Series Book 3) by Casey L. Bond Page B

the Infected. Her brother and dad starving. She was losing it, and I was afraid that if she did, I would lose her forever.
    We need to go. It’s almost dawn. The Elders will be waiting for the meat. Everything is changing.
    Not everything. It’s still the same in some ways, too.
    Goodnight, Saul. I hope you’re feeling okay.
    Better than I expected to.
    Good, she said.
    Goodnight, Porschia.
    Silence.
     

     

    A heavy shroud lay over me. I tried to move my arms but couldn’t. My toes. I couldn’t wiggle them or my fingers. My breathing was steady. I could feel my ribs expand with each breath. I was warm, so warm. It was like I was inside a cocoon. My eyelids were heavy and my tongue felt too big for my mouth and far too dry.
    With every ounce of strength I could muster, I raised my head. It was only for a second, but I did it. The back of my skull thumped against something soft as it crashed back down. Gravity was a bastard. So was cottonmouth.
    Finally, I managed to move my right forefinger and thumb. Then the big toe on my left foot. Slowly, I managed to move them all. Every digit awakened. I opened one eyelid and then the other, rolling my head to the side. A small shaft of sunlight spilled into the room, dust motes swimming through the warm rays like a happy school of fish.
    The bars that caged me reminded me where I was. Roman’s basement. But the snores from across the room weren’t foreign. It wasn’t Roman who guarded me. It was my baby brother.
    Ford looked too long for the chair he had somehow gotten comfortable in – too long by a mile. He was tall and lanky and far too skinny. This spring and summer would help matters, but not soon enough. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was. I shouldn’t have volunteered for the rotation. If I’d stayed at home, put my pride away and offered to do chores or simply ask neighbors for help, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have fallen. Mother wouldn’t be in the city with Pierce, and Porschia wouldn’t be half Infected and half night-walker. She wouldn’t have shot or bit me. She would still love me.
    I tried to raise up but couldn’t find the strength. I tried to cry but my tears were dried up. Like so much of me, there was nothing good left.
    Someone was rustling around upstairs. Porschia maybe? My muscles felt tight and I was hot and uncomfortable. Frustration poured from my throat in an agitated groan; a groan that sounded more human than I had in months. I opened my mouth and tilted my head toward Ford, who was startled awake at the sound. He rushed to the cell, fumbling with the key in the lock. Dropping them on the ground, he tried again. “Was that you?”
    I nodded.
    “That sound came from you?”
    I nodded again, my mouth wide in disbelief.
    He threw the door open and rushed to help me sit up. “Make it again!”
    “F---”
    “Holy shit! Father, get down here! Fast!”
    “F-f-f--” I tried. Oh my God. I was actually forming sounds.
    Father ran down the steps, his hands sliding down the drywall. “What is it? Is she okay?” His eyes widened when he found me sitting up, Ford supporting my back.
    “Fo-r--d” I said, a huge smile splitting my face.
    I motioned like I was drinking something. “Father, sit with her. I’ll get her some water from the well.”
    Father sat next to me, helping me sit up. His mouth was so wide, flies could go in and out at their leisure. “How is this possible?” he asked himself in a whisper. “I thought Porschia’s bite had killed you.”
    Ford rushed back in the house and down the steps. There was more water soaking his wool pants than in the cup, but it was perfect. Cold and fresh. I gulped greedily. “S-sa--ved m-me.”
    “What saved you?” Ford asked, out of breath.
    “Porschia,” Dad replied in awe. He pulled my head to his chest and cried. “The bite of a night-walker can heal the Infected. My God.”

 
     

     

     
    Tage carried the bear across the tree trunk, then the two deer, one on