Annihilation - Book Three

Chapter 34

We all exchange awkward glances. "It's probably one of the infected." Haryek grumbles. 

"Or a survivor?" Reid takes a step towards the door and I grab his wrist. 

"A survivor is probably infected." It pains me to say it but I've seen enough bloodshed today, I don't need to watch someone else die. I squeeze his wrist. "We really shouldn't open the door." Reid frowns and watches the big oak doors. Everything in me says go to bed. "Come on." I gesture to him and Adriam links arms with me. Us and them. 

We go our separate ways except for Adriam who tags along with me and I'm grateful for the company. 

The castle is so elaborate and classy, the walls aren't marble but are a type of intricately cut stone. I allow him to take the first shower and try not to listen to the hysterical sobbing that is drowned out by the water. Once again, I'm numb, my body can't feel anymore and my mind couldn't process it.

 I close my eyes as I sit on the floor so that I don't dirty the bed. The cool tile feels almost painful against my bruised skin. I've pulled the curtains shut, I can't look out there and risk seeing the spec of white in all the destruction. Tomorrow we will have to figure out a way to clear out the infected or maybe we will be holed up here for a few days until I can regain some strength.

 Is this what it is to be a king? 

The steam rolls out of the bathroom into the candlelight of the lanterns that bring a warm glow to this chilly night. My mind drifts to the thought of my warlord trapped in a tree, surrounded by the diseased creatures who will hunt him all night if he's out there. 

Why didn't I look? I lean my head back against the stone wall, tomorrow this will all be much more to bare and yet today, all I want is sleep. Adriam finally comes out, dressed in a silk nightshirt and pants. The length is almost comical. "Thanks for letting me stay with you." His voice is small as he brushes his cheek with his sleeve.

 He looks almost childlike in his size, his large eyes puffy and red, his damp hair holds the heavy curls so perfectly against his fair skin. 

"Anytime, Adam." He walks to the bed and climbs under the sheets, curling up to make himself as small as possible. He knew this was going to happen, he had said it over and over again, we don't make it out of this alive. Could I be so selfless? I suppose I do hand over my warlord at any request, if not expect him to contribute.

 Does that mean I love him less?

 I slowly get up as my body protests and strip off what remains of my clothes, I'm beaten, bloody and broken. My body is held together by a patchwork of bandages and stitches and I shut the door behind me as I turn on the hot water and wet a cloth. Every dab against my sensitive skin feels like a new blow.

 My face is swollen on one side from where I was drug against the ground, I delicately place the cloth over my blackened eye and relax into the heat, even my lips feel swollen. Is this what battle is like? I think about the lycans who would sit in my front yard, burning each other wounds shut with a heated blade, and wonder what sick bastard decided to make a religion out of this?

I trace the cloth on any exposed patch of skin to get the dirt and grit off on me, I soak my bloody hands in the scalding water to try and rid myself of the memories of those I couldn't save. If I had been quicker would he still be alive? Why am I so weak?

 I pause when I realize I've brought the book in here with me. The cover carries a large dent where something struck me at one point, maybe it saved my life? I tentatively touch it, expecting to be sucked into its depths but there is nothing.

 No communication, no wisdom, maybe even my father is grieving the loss of my sister to his sickness.

Her manic grin is burned into my mind, looking at me like a true psycho. I dab the cloth into the reddish-black water but abandon hope of getting clean, I rinse out the tub and fill it partway once more before turning off the water to let myself soak. I should have seen the signs, the wolves were showing up wherever we were, it was no coincidence that we were being followed.