Refuge From The Dead | Book 4 | Dead Winter by Masters A.L

Author:Masters, A.L. [Masters, A.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Published: 2021-12-08T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

At A Standstill

Angie

Angie blinked back tears once again.

It was the third day since the snowstorm had buried them…and Cam was dead. She felt like nothing. Like nobody. She was a void. Even the love she had for Jim was buried beneath her grief. She knew it was still there, but it seemed as distant as the stars. As distant as Cam now was.

She clenched her fists, felt the pain of her fingernails, and relished it. The blood welled, dripped down her fingers and onto her mattress.

It was early in the morning and she couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t stop thinking. She couldn’t get away from it. She heard footsteps approaching, soft and tentative—maybe Jess or Jean checking on her. She couldn’t talk to them. If she opened her mouth to speak, she would start screaming and wouldn’t be able to stop. Sometimes, they just sat with her, holding her hand. Sometimes they told stories.

“Angie?” she heard a quiet voice call out.

It was Lane.

Her voice sounded strained and unused. She had been crying. She walked further into the room and Angie saw in the light from the common room that she was pale. Hollows marked her cheeks and black circles rested under her eyes.

Was guilt a fitting enough punishment for the woman who had let Cam die a horrible death?

She didn’t know. She didn’t care. She wanted to be left alone with the only part she had left of him. Her memories.

She wanted to go back in time to summer, and live forever in the few weeks of happiness they had there.

“Angie, I came to tell you that I’m sorry and…I’m leaving. I’m taking the Humvee and going back to the hospital. I’m going to take care of things there. I promise you. I’ll do everything that I can.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, Angie could see Lane wipe her face. She was all kitted up and ready to go. Angie let her leave. She couldn’t speak.

The grief, the sadness, the burning sorrow …it was too much. Too choking.

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