Free The Awakened by Sara Elizabeth Santana Page B

but I could still tell that their skin was blue, just like Maddie’s, which meant bad news for us. I stood up, taking a step back. “Do you think…do you think they’re slow? Like, in the movies?” I said, aiming the gun at them. I registered dimly that Ash had a fireplace poker in his hand and was holding it like a baseball bat.
    At these words, the people started sprinting toward us. The two of us turned on our heels, sprinted up the stairs, and slammed the doors behind us. My fingers fumbled at the locks, while Ash dropped the fireplace poker and started moving the armoire that stood just inside the entryway toward the door.
    “Is it locked?” he yelled over the noise that was right outside our door. The sound of raspy breaths and hungry wails filled the air, and it was impossible to ignore.
    “Yes,” I said, taking a step back and helping him push the piece of furniture in front of the door. We both stepped backward, waiting, and a moment later, there was a slamming noise, like bodies hitting the front door. “Oh god, what do we do?”
    “Shh, stay quiet,” he whispered. “They can’t get in. We need to fix your hand.”
    I remembered my injury, the small chunk of my flesh that Madison had managed to rip out before I shot her, and the pain came flooding back. I glanced down and saw blood dripping down my arm. “Damn, that hurts.”
    “Yeah, it got you good,” Ash said, pulling me toward the kitchen, and running the water at the sink. The sound of water hitting the basin barely masked the sound of the people pounding at the door.
    “It? That it is a person, Ash. She is a girl. She’s Madison,” I said firmly, wincing as the cool water flowed over my wound. Tears sprung up in the corners of my eyes, and I bit down on my lip hard.
    “Was. And that wasn’t Madison, Z. I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t her. Madison wouldn’t attack someone, and she sure wouldn’t sink her teeth into you,” he said, leaning over the sink and washing the blood away. I inhaled sharply. “Sorry.”
    “It’s fine,” I said, through clenched teeth.
    “It’s not too deep,” Ash said, holding my hand closer to his face. “I mean, I’m not an expert, but it doesn’t look like it needs stitches or anything. Do you have a first aid kit?”
    “Under the sink,” I said, tired. I walked over to the table, as Ash rummaged under the sink for the kit. I collapsed in a chair, my entire body shaking. He came over and sat in the chair next to me. Carefully, he wrapped my hand in gauze and taped it down.
    “There,” he said, before placing a soft kiss on the bandage.
    I yanked my hand away from him. “Don’t kiss me, Ash.”
    “Sorry,” he said, but there was a tiny smile on his face. It was barely there, and after the probable deaths of his parents and the disaster that was taking place right outside my front door, I was surprised there was one at all. “Now what?”
    I shook my head, pressing my lips together, scared to say a word. I knew the moment that I said anything, I would start crying, and I wouldn’t stop. Ash stood up, gathered me in his arms and walked us down to the basement where he put me down on the couch. He grabbed a blanket from the armchair and placed it over me. He took a seat on the couch next to me and reached for the remote. The TV came to life, and he immediately switched it to a main channel.
    The president was on the screen, speaking gravely.
    “Turn it up!” I said, wrapping the blanket tighter around me. Ash obliged, and the president’s deep, reassuring voice came floating at me.
    “…unsure of how these victims came to be roaming our neighborhoods, but we assure the American people that we are doing everything in our power to find out where they came from and how to handle them. We urge all of you to stay indoors and to stay vigilant, and await instructions…”
    “Sounds like they have no idea what’s going on either,” Ash said, changing the channel. A scene of