Free Thicker than Blood by Madeline Sheehan Page B

mused, though her body
stayed tense and alert.
    Alex let out a small snort. “Looks can be
deceiving.”
    Her expression pinched with irritation,
Evelyn slanted her eyes in my direction, rolling them ever so
slightly.
    I attempted to give her a smile in return,
but didn’t quite manage one. My stomach churned with fear, my head
pounded from anxiety, and with every mile we traveled, my fear of
the unknown only continued to grow, increasing my discomfort.
    “Lei?” she whispered, cocking her head in
question. “You okay?”
    “ F-fine,” I stuttered hoarsely, but I was
anything but fine. I tried to envision myself searching out these
buildings for food or clothing, things that had once belonged to
others—others who hadn’t been as fortunate as me—and my
apprehension only grew. I felt like an interloper in this new and
foreign world, and worse than that, like a burden on Evelyn and
Alex.
    What good would I be if we were attacked
by an infected, or even by another person? What good was I even if
we weren’t?
    Closing my eyes, I inhaled slowly and deeply,
the stale air of the truck smelling strongly of unwashed bodies. I
let out my breath, wishing I could have a private moment alone,
somewhere behind closed doors so I could block out the world. Just
a minute was all I needed to regain my composure.
    I took another breath and let it out, another
fruitless attempt at calming my nerves. It was hot in the truck,
the three of us pressed up against one another, Alex on my left,
his right leg situated firmly up alongside my left, and on my right
was Evelyn, her entire left side pressed uncomfortably against me.
We were touching from our shoulders to our knees, unable to move
even a fraction of an inch without the other being entirely
aware.
    When I cracked open an eyelid, the truck’s
dashboard loomed in front of me, and beyond that abandoned cars
blurred in and out of focus as we passed them, Alex swerving every
so often to avoid garbage strewn in the road. His elbow would press
into my bicep and every time, I cringed and closed my eyes, my
breath lodging in my throat.
    I needed out of this truck; it was too
small and stifling. I needed fresh air and a moment alone. I needed
a bath to wash away the blood, the sweat, and the stench of fear. I
needed—
    “ Don’t worry, Lei,” Evelyn said gently,
interrupting my panicked thoughts. “It’s going to be fine. I’m
going to protect you.”
    My eyes flew open just in time to see her
reaching for me, more than likely to give me a reassuring pat or a
comforting squeeze. The thought of it, of being treated or thought
of like a useless child again, sent my emotions into overdrive, and
I did something I’d never done before, never thought of doing
before.
    I slapped Evelyn’s arm away.
    “Stop it!” I cried. “I’m not a child. It’s
not my fault I don’t know how to use a gun. It’s not my fault I
don’t know the first thing about surviving out here. It’s not my
fault that I’m not as strong as you, or as brave. And it’s not my
fault that I’m weak!”
    Evelyn’s mouth fell open, then closed, and
then opened again as her eyes widened in shock at my sudden
outburst. For the first time, my friend was at a loss for words.
There were a lot of firsts happening lately, most of them at the
most inopportune times. And all of them were my fault.
    “You’re not weak.”
    I was so busy glaring at Evelyn, and her
gaping at me, that neither of us noticed for several moments that
the truck had come to a stop. Blinking with confusion, I turned to
find Alex staring straight ahead, his hands gripping the steering
wheel so tightly that his tanned knuckles had turned
white.
    “You’re not weak,” he repeated, this time
more forcefully.
    Without another word, Alex roughly pulled the
key from the ignition and exited the truck, slamming the door loud
enough to make me wince. I watched him walk a few feet into the
empty street before I looked back at Evelyn, an apology forming