Part 14 (2/2)

Her dad was right. The end of the world was coming. And not with a whimper, but a major, big-a.s.s bang.

Chapter Twenty-four.

Peyton woke up to rain splas.h.i.+ng her face. The wind was howling and the trees above her were swaying dangerously, their high branches looking as if they could break off and crash down at any moment. She crawled out of her sleeping bag, her heart pounding as she quickly a.s.sessed the scene. It had been such a beautiful day; where had the storm come from?

Lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a crack of thunder. Peyton couldn't believe the kids were sleeping through this. She ran from tent to tent, shaking them awake.

”Wake up!” she cried. ”We have to find some shelter.”

The kids groggily crawled out of their sleeping bags and out of their tents. Peyton looked for the horses, but they were nowhere to be seen. The thunder must have spooked them and caused them to break their tethers. They might not be far though; she could only see a few feet in front of her due to all the fog that had rolled in.

”Quick!” she told the children. ”Grab what you can and head to the bathrooms.”

Rest area bathrooms had never been the nicest facilities to visit. After the apocalypse they were even worse. But they couldn't stay out in this storm. As it was, the strong winds were practically toppling the little ones where they stood and the now abandoned tents were blowing away. And she had no weatherman to tell her how long the storm would last or how bad it would get. For all she knew this was a Category 5 hurricane and they were only on its outer edges.

They grabbed what they could, all the items drenched of course, and headed into the small rest-stop bathroom, located in the center of the parking lot. The place smelled to high heaven and the toilets were full of raw sewage bubbled up from burst pipes. But it was mostly dry, with only a few leaks in the ceiling. And the cement walls felt solid, keeping out the wind. She instructed the kids to lay out their bags and bedding to try to dry it out. They all looked like half-drowned rats. She did a quick count.

”Where's Chase?” Red asked, frowning. ”Is he still out there?”

Peyton started. In her haste to get everyone inside, she'd forgotten about their night watchman. Why hadn't he woke them up at the first signs of the storm? They would have had an opportunity to find better shelter, before things got bad. And half of their supplies wouldn't be ruined.

She opened the bathroom door and a burst of wind practically knocked her backward. Using her lenses, she scanned the campsite, heart in her throat. Had something happened to him? Had he run into a monster before the storm even hit?

But then she caught his signal at the outskirts of camp. He was still warm, but not moving. She swallowed hard. Was he okay? Had he been hit by a fallen branch and knocked unconscious? She couldn't think of any other reason he'd be able to sleep through this mess.

As if on cue, the thunder boomed again. But Chase's silhouette didn't move. Peyton turned to the other children, who stared back at her with wet, worried faces. ”I see him out there,” she told them. ”I'm going to go and get him and bring him back. No one move until I return. I'm serious.”

The children nodded, gripping each other's hands. Peyton sucked in a breath and pushed her way outside. The wind had picked up in the short time since she'd woken and she was in a big fight to get to Chase. But she couldn't leave him out there.

Lightning slashed through the sky, hitting a tree, high above her. A large branch came cras.h.i.+ng down, just inches from where she'd stood only a moment before. Had she not taken that last step, she would have been a goner. And Chase was a sitting duck.

She picked up her pace, trying to ignore the wind as she dashed to the spot where he lay. When she reached him, she gasped, thinking at first he was dead. His face was white as a ghost and he wasn't moving at all. But then she saw his eyebrow twitch. She breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive.

Dropping to her knees, she shook him with all her might, trying to wake him up. At first he refused to stir. Then he managed to open one eye, then the other. He looked at her, confused. Dazed. Uncomprehending his situation. What was wrong with him? Why was he so out of it? h.e.l.l, he was acting like her mom used to when she- It was then that Peyton saw the pill bottle in his hands. The same one he'd taken pills from the night she'd cut his face. She pried it from his fingers, scanning the label. Oh G.o.d.

”Peyton?” he asked, his voice sounding like it was underwater. ”What's going on?”

She bit back her anger, her fury at how irresponsible he'd been. They had depended on him and he'd let them down. But there would be time for accusations later. Right now she needed to get him to safety.

”Can you walk?” she asked. Sometimes her mother had gotten so messed up her legs would refuse to work for several hours.

”Of course I can,” he replied, starting to regain his wits.

”Then you'd better get over to the rest-stop bathroom,” she told him, not able to hide the bitterness in her voice. ”It's not safe out here.”

He nodded, looking around as if discovering his surroundings for the first time. And maybe he was. After all, Peyton knew that particular prescription well. It was one of her mother's. And she knew what it could do when you found yourself in its grip.

”Don't forget your little pills,” she muttered as he scrambled to his feet. She could see his face turn red as he looked down, realizing he'd been busted. She wondered for a moment if he would leave them behind in an effort to try to prove they were no big deal. But they were a big deal and soon he was reaching down to grab them as a bolt of lightning hit the ground only a few feet from where they stood.

”Run!” she cried.

The two of them dashed for the bathroom, running as hard as they could, this time with the wind at their backs. They made it back, pulling open the door and bursting inside. The other children were huddled together, looking up at their reappearance with relieved eyes. They jumped up and ran around Chase, hugging him and cheering, thankful their fearless leader was alive.

Peyton hung back, so furious she could barely speak. She couldn't believe she'd somehow found another addict. The very person who was supposed to be her rock, the one who promised to get her to Disney World even if he had to carry her on his back, was nothing more than a pill-popping junkie who had almost gotten them killed. What if the thunder hadn't woken her? What if a zombie had wandered into camp while they slept? It was bad enough that most of their camping supplies were most likely ruined. But someone could have been killed because of Chase's incompetence.

She remembered how he'd argued with her about the watch earlier that night. She'd given in, wanting him to know that she trusted him. But she shouldn't have trusted him. She'd never trust him again.

Chase left the children and walked over to her, a guilty look on his face. ”I guess I screwed up,” he said softly, so the others couldn't hear. ”I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

She scowled. He wasn't even going to admit the truth? But then, neither had her mother.

”Chase,” she said slowly. ”Do you have a drug problem?”

His face turned purple. ”What? No. How could you ask me that?”

He sounded so much like her mother it was getting scary. ”Because of the pills,” she replied, keeping her voice even. ”Because you took enough painkillers to sleep through a flecking hurricane.”

She could see his hard swallow. His mind hard at work to craft a reasonable explanation. One that would make her leave him alone. ”My face was killing me,” he said at last, reaching up to the st.i.tched cut. ”I thought maybe a painkiller would help, okay? I'm sorry. I didn't know it would make me pa.s.s out.”

It could have been true. But she doubted it. Too many things were sliding into place. His strange mood swings. His secret ”mission” when they'd first met. His lengthy disappearance after his brother had died. The signs had all been there, but she'd missed them, wanting so badly to be able to depend on another person. To be able to shed some of the control and trust someone else.

Well, those days were now over. She knew from now on, the only person she could rely on was herself. No more relaxing. No more letting someone else take control. It was her against the world until she finally found her father. He was the only one left she could depend on.

The birds were chirping the next morning from their perches on fallen branches. The storm had pa.s.sed through in the night and the sun shone down, as if apologizing for stepping away and letting nature do its worst. Chase helped the group hang their sopping sleeping bags up over makes.h.i.+ft clotheslines and sort through what food was still good and what had rotted from the rain. They'd probably lost half their supplies in the hurricane and he knew it was all his fault. At least the horses had come back-they would have been in big trouble if even one of them had gotten lost in the storm. That was something at least.

If only he hadn't taken those stupid pills. Peyton blamed him for all of this. And with good reason. His weakness had caused him to hurt the girl he loved, not to mention endangered the kids he'd been asked to protect. He'd slowed down their journey, too-there was no way they'd be able to leave the camp today, at least until everything dried out. In short, he'd done everything he'd promised he wouldn't. No wonder Peyton didn't want anything to do with him. He wasn't worthy of a girl like her.

He watched her from across the camp, doling out breakfast to the children. They all clamored around her, laughing and chattering about the crazy storm. And she was laughing right back, though he knew she must be furious inside. At having to delay. At having him screw everything up. But you could never tell it from how she handled the children. She knew that they depended on her and wasn't going to let them down, even though in reality they weren't her responsibility whatsoever.

How did she do it? How did she stay so strong? Was it her enhancements? Did they allow her to switch off the pain as well as turn on the power? Or was she just a better person than him? Able to put aside the hurt and focus on what needed to be done? If only he could be more like her.

He made a vow. From now on it'd be different. He'd be a man, live up to his responsibilities. Care for and protect the kids. He'd show Peyton he wasn't the weak, pathetic drug addict she thought him to be, but a strong, capable person who didn't let other people down. Who didn't let her down.

Feeling inspired, he approached her, just as she was doling out the last of the soup to the children. She looked at him warily. He supposed he deserved it.

”Can I talk to you?” he asked.

She hedged, looking around. ”I'm kind of busy.”

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