sword again, she complied because of Bach’s condition and the fact they’d nowhere else to go.
The pair was separated and inspected for bites, but were reunited about an hour later.
“You two can stay in the Hansen’s room.” Garfield led them by candlelight into an apartment. “There isn’t much here, but we’ve haven’t had an infestation yet.”
From the looks of it, several families were already cramped into the small space.
She estimated seven people were living in the two-bedroom apartment. “Thanks,” Wisteria said to him, but she’d heard such claims before.
Bach stumbled forward, but she managed to stop his fall.
“You should save your energy,” she whispered to him.
“Is he okay?” Garfield frowned.
“It’s dark in here and he tripped,” Wisteria called out as they got to the dirty door with the word Hansen written across it as if by a child using finger paint.
“You might be lucky and find a few things you can use in there.” Garfield unlocked the door to reveal a room. He wasn’t joking when he told them there wasn’t much there.
All she saw was a worn mattress on the floor along with some old notebooks. Wisteria noticed an old guitar propped against a wall.
“I’ll see if I can get some food and water for you.” Garfield lingered by the doorway. “Do you need anything?”
“Thank you.” Wisteria smiled at the archer. “I think we just need to be alone right now. It’s been a tough few days for us.”
“Right, and your boyfriend looks worse for the wear.” Garfield’s smile faded from his face.
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just…” What was he? “We just need to rest. Things are…”
“Sure, whatever.” Giving her his candle, he left.
CHAPTER NINE
Days later, Wisteria sat on the mattress next to Bach in the dark room. Although it was only two o’clock in the afternoon, she felt like it was midnight. Placing her hand on his forehead, she found his skin was very cold. In a way, she was relieved, since he had no fever it meant that he wasn’t infected.
He was also less chatty, which was a treat since that meant no more offhand remarks. However, he still didn’t seem to be getting any better. Getting help from anyone in the dungeon was out of the question
“How are you feeling?” she whispered.
“Like I am dying.”
If there was something to say to that, she didn’t know what. So she just watched him as he lay there, almost lifeless and pale. Even the cute spots on his arms seemed to have faded. “Maybe you should eat something.”
“No.”
Touching his forehead again to check his temperature, he gripped her wrist. The grasp was firm at first, but then it weakened. “Please stop,” he said breathlessly. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Bach, don’t you remember? You found this place?”
“I would have never brought us to this hole. You are doing this to punish me for the fire. I told you I did not mean to burn you. You agreed that the fire would terrify Lluc, but you were not able to run fast enough,” the sick boy rambled.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Lluc was so angry. He beat me so hard, he almost broke my arm.” Bach continued to talk, seemingly delirious. “He hates fire. He beat me so badly, but I laughed so much.”
His delirium seemed to fade, but whether this was a good thing or bad was another story.
Grabbing one of the old notebooks that were lying around, she fanned him until he fell asleep. Once he was out, she went over to examine the books that were scattered along the floor. They were full of drawings, done by either a child or a really bad artist. Bored, she flipped through the pages of the book, hoping to find something to take her mind off the events of the day, but she failed. Sitting in the poorly lit room, she tried to listen for the shuffle of the feet of the infected above, but only heard the sounds of the other dungeon dwellers.
How did she survive all of this
The pair was separated and inspected for bites, but were reunited about an hour later.
“You two can stay in the Hansen’s room.” Garfield led them by candlelight into an apartment. “There isn’t much here, but we’ve haven’t had an infestation yet.”
From the looks of it, several families were already cramped into the small space.
She estimated seven people were living in the two-bedroom apartment. “Thanks,” Wisteria said to him, but she’d heard such claims before.
Bach stumbled forward, but she managed to stop his fall.
“You should save your energy,” she whispered to him.
“Is he okay?” Garfield frowned.
“It’s dark in here and he tripped,” Wisteria called out as they got to the dirty door with the word Hansen written across it as if by a child using finger paint.
“You might be lucky and find a few things you can use in there.” Garfield unlocked the door to reveal a room. He wasn’t joking when he told them there wasn’t much there.
All she saw was a worn mattress on the floor along with some old notebooks. Wisteria noticed an old guitar propped against a wall.
“I’ll see if I can get some food and water for you.” Garfield lingered by the doorway. “Do you need anything?”
“Thank you.” Wisteria smiled at the archer. “I think we just need to be alone right now. It’s been a tough few days for us.”
“Right, and your boyfriend looks worse for the wear.” Garfield’s smile faded from his face.
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just…” What was he? “We just need to rest. Things are…”
“Sure, whatever.” Giving her his candle, he left.
CHAPTER NINE
Days later, Wisteria sat on the mattress next to Bach in the dark room. Although it was only two o’clock in the afternoon, she felt like it was midnight. Placing her hand on his forehead, she found his skin was very cold. In a way, she was relieved, since he had no fever it meant that he wasn’t infected.
He was also less chatty, which was a treat since that meant no more offhand remarks. However, he still didn’t seem to be getting any better. Getting help from anyone in the dungeon was out of the question
“How are you feeling?” she whispered.
“Like I am dying.”
If there was something to say to that, she didn’t know what. So she just watched him as he lay there, almost lifeless and pale. Even the cute spots on his arms seemed to have faded. “Maybe you should eat something.”
“No.”
Touching his forehead again to check his temperature, he gripped her wrist. The grasp was firm at first, but then it weakened. “Please stop,” he said breathlessly. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Bach, don’t you remember? You found this place?”
“I would have never brought us to this hole. You are doing this to punish me for the fire. I told you I did not mean to burn you. You agreed that the fire would terrify Lluc, but you were not able to run fast enough,” the sick boy rambled.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Lluc was so angry. He beat me so hard, he almost broke my arm.” Bach continued to talk, seemingly delirious. “He hates fire. He beat me so badly, but I laughed so much.”
His delirium seemed to fade, but whether this was a good thing or bad was another story.
Grabbing one of the old notebooks that were lying around, she fanned him until he fell asleep. Once he was out, she went over to examine the books that were scattered along the floor. They were full of drawings, done by either a child or a really bad artist. Bored, she flipped through the pages of the book, hoping to find something to take her mind off the events of the day, but she failed. Sitting in the poorly lit room, she tried to listen for the shuffle of the feet of the infected above, but only heard the sounds of the other dungeon dwellers.
How did she survive all of this
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