Love and Decay, Volume Six (Episodes 1-4, Season Three) by Higginson Rachel

Author:Higginson, Rachel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: serial, zombies, suspence, end of the world, action and adventure, dystopian, young adult romance, episodes, new adult romance, novella series
Publisher: Rachel Higginson

Chapter Two

The tunnel sloped downward and as we followed our tiny line-leader, I felt the chill of the earth wrap around me. The cold air shook me from my stupor and cleared some of the haze in my head. I moved closer to Haley, feeling the very sudden need to be near her. Page walked at her side and as I kept step with them, I couldn’t shake the nerves butterflying in my stomach.

“Do you have a name?” Tyler asked the little boy. When he didn’t respond, she tried her impeccable Spanish, “Nombre?”

He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Luis.”

“Luis, me llama Tyler.”

He shrugged and faced forward again. Apparently he didn’t care what our names were. It suddenly seemed odd that he approached us with water.

I wondered if Luis got many visitors down here? Maybe people stumbled through that door often? Because he did not seem surprised to see us.

And why hadn’t he handed over his canteen yet?

I swallowed around a swollen tongue and fiery throat. Just the thought of water could cripple me. My knees trembled with weakness.

We turned a corner and entered a large, high-ceilinged cavern. I flinched when the noxious smell of bats hit hard. My entire database of bats could be whittled down to two important facts. One: they smelled horrible. Two: they carried rabies.

My heartbeat picked up again.

Luis ran ahead of us and disappeared along the shadowed walls. We stood huddled together near the entrance, ready to flee at any moment.

Slowly I took in my surroundings, struggling through the dark, my fear and my hunger, to take in as much as I could.

Men, women and children began to move toward us. The numbers appeared to be about thirty of them, but that didn’t mean they were all present and accounted for.

Not one of them held a weapon in hand, but again, that didn’t mean there weren’t any. I had no doubts that these people had weapons; they just weren’t ready to show all of their cards yet.

A hard body bumped against my back and I jumped, barely stifling a scream. Hendrix’s chest became familiar ground in the next second and I closed my eyes in relief.

“Hola,” a middle-aged man greeted us. There was a big fire across the room that brought a significant amount of warmth with it. The firelight danced across faces and dirt-packed ground teasing the room with almost enough light, but not quite.

The longer we stayed in this place, the more smells sifted through the air. The bats let off the most potent scent, but something burned on the undercurrent. It reminded me of what my room used to smell like after I used a blow dryer.

No, worse than that.

Singed hair. The room smelled like burnt hair.

These people must not know better than to stand away from the fire. Were they so desperate for warmth? My heart squeezed sympathetically for their struggles.

“Hola,” Vaughan returned.

The man held up another canteen that sloshed enticingly, “Agua?”

“Si,” Vaughan sighed.

The man grinned at us, revealing rows of chipped teeth.

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