The Withered Series (Book 1): Wither by Amy Miles Page A

looked terrified,” I
counter.
    “Looks
can be deceiving,” Devon says in a deep baritone voice. I watch
his muscles flex as he crosses his arms over his chest to match my
combative stance.  He’s a heck of a lot more imposing in
this position.  I was right to not underestimate him.
    That’s
when I notice a dot of blood on the inner flesh of the crook of his
arm for the first time. It is barely noticeable against his dark skin
but the shine of moisture catches in the light.
    “Oh,
God.”  I step back, sickened as the truth sinks in.
 “You’re no better than those people on the
streets!”
    Alex
holds up his hands as I begin to back away.  The bruising
scattered along his forearm is suddenly a stark contrast from the
pale flesh of his inner arm.  “Now hold on just a minute.
 It’s not what you think.”
    “No?”
Hysteria rises in my voice.  “You gonna stand there and
tell me that you’re not stealing blood from them?  That
you haven’t created your own mini blood bank?  How did you
even know to do that?  Was it Eva’s radio?  Were you
spying on the military?”
    Devon
stiffens as Victoria’s head snaps around.  “You
never told me that’s why those people were in there.”
    “Oh,
come off it, Victoria.” I yank at my hair, feeling as if
madness is only a step ahead of me.  “Are you really that
dense?  Did you not hear their screams or did you just not want
to?”
    She
steps back, her face blanching at my attack.  Her hand flutters
at her throat before she turns and sinks onto a chair, beginning to
rock slowly.
    “You
all act like you have a freakin’ clue what is happening out
there, but the truth is, you don’t. None of us do.”
    “Isn’t
that the point?”  I turn to look at Alex.  “We
don’t know how this thing spreads.  We don’t know
how to stop it or protect ourselves against it.  So we do what
we can with the little knowledge we possess.”
    “That
message was cryptic. You don’t even know what or if blood has
anything to do with a cure or prevention.  The message was cut
off before they could say why or even how it could be used. How can
you allow yourselves to jump to such extremes without the facts to
back it up?”
    “Because
we want to live,” Sal says without emotion.
    “And
what about them?”  I point to the closed door. “Don’t
they have that same right? “I retreat as Devon and Sal
approach, shifting backward until my spine is pressed against the
door on the opposite side of the room.  The one door that leads
to the stairs and the factory beyond.  The one Victoria came
through only a short while ago with her bucket of vegetables.   Please
let it still be unlocked.  That rotten woman has a terrible
memory.
    As
Devon and Victoria’s voices begin to rise in a dance of angry
accusations, I grip the door handle and test it. I nearly cry in
relief when it gives way.    
    “Enough!”
Alex’s shout echoes off the walls.  Eva moans and curls in
on herself.  My grip on the door wavers at the sound of her
pain.   I
can’t just leave her with these people.  
    “Now
that I have your attention,” Alex says, smoothing his hair back
from his face, “I think it’s time we all had a chat about
reality.”
    He
motions for me to move away from the door and sit down.  The
urge to throw open the door and bolt is so strong I nearly give in,
but another moan rises from Eva.  Her back arches and I know
that I have no choice.  I can’t turn my back on her. If I
do she’s as good as dead.
    I
sink down beside her, placing a hand on her arm.  The muscles in
her neck cord, her teeth gritted against the pain.  Her screams
build deep within in her throat.  It’s only a matter of
time before she lets go.
    “I
realize this may come as a bit of a shock to you,” Alex begins,
waiting for me to turn and look at him, “but bad things happen
to good people, including those two in that room.  Reality tells
us that not everyone is going to survive.