Free Lycan Fallout (Book 2): Fall of Man by Mark Tufo Page A

when her arms finally gave out that she felt comfortable enough to let the girl down without her running back to the clearing and her brother’s final resting spot. The girl had not said anything to Bailey since her outburst the previous evening. It wasn’t until they stopped for the evening that Breealla spoke.
    “I wished he’d killed you,” she said as Bailey started a fire.
    Bailey said nothing as the words cut deeper than her physical wounds had. She knew it was with the twisting fates of the world that the girl was most angry. It just so happened Bailey was the only one within earshot to catch those heated words.
    “It should be him I’m with today, not you.”
    Bailey looked up from the growing flame. “He would have killed you as well, and now he would be sitting in that clearing wondering if what happened the night before was some distorted dream. Then he’d find your bones picked clean and realize what he’d done. Is that what you would rather have? He’d be alone, scared, confused, and disgusted with himself for what he’d done.”
    “If he were alive and I were dead, at least I would no longer feel the pain I do now.”
    “You are still looking out for your brother, Breealla, just in another way. His death has spared him the pain of knowing he killed you. It is the best gift you could have afforded him. You are shouldering the pain and guilt he would have worn for the rest of his life.”
    “It hurts so much, Bailey.” Breealla’s head was down. Her body hitched from her silent cries. Tears could not be squeezed from her dried-up ducts.
    Bailey grabbed her and held her close, rocking her back and forth in as comforting of a manner as she could. Breealla clutched tight, if she could have, she would have crawled up into Bailey’s lap.

Chapter Nine – Mike Journal Entry 6
     
    “Is that you, Tommy?”
    I had pulled myself to a small outcropping of rock and was in a reasonable facsimile of a sitting position. My leg had nearly been chewed through, I’d lost a lot of blood, and a battalion of flies were doing their best to lay their offspring in my wounds. I was thirstier than I could ever remember being in my entire life. I was fairly certain as a half-vamp I wasn’t supposed to get sick, but there was no doubt in my mind I was burning with fever. My forehead was coated in a thick sheen of sweat. I alternated between bone-shivering shakes and heat flashes. Each minor contraction sent jolts of pain through my entire body, the soaring of my internal body temperature bringing me dangerously closer to dehydration, shock and death. Was that even possible? I’d completely forgotten about my “visitor” until he spoke. I was having difficulty keeping my eyes open, and even when they weren’t shut, it was difficult to keep them focused.
    “What do you think, Mr. T?” Tommy asked, a look of concern on his face.
    “Well, it’s possible I’ve conjured you up in my fugue state, but I think I would have done a better job, like maybe you would be carrying a cold pitcher of Kool-Aid, and you sure as shit wouldn’t have on that super serious look of concern on your face.”
    “You’ve got to move away from here, Mr. T.”
    “And just how do you propose I do that, Tommy?” His face was blurring and doubling, and sometimes more alarmingly, began to look as if I was viewing it through a pinhole.
    “Lycan will come this way. Where is Oggie?” Tommy looked around.
    “Wouldn’t my ‘vision’ know Oggie was with Bailey? This is weird.”
    “Focus, Mr. T.”
    “Easier said than done; I feel like I’ve been hanging with Trip all day.” Trip was a friend from long ago who had taken the term “recreational drug use” to a whole new level. Pretty much made a career out of it you might say. “How is it up there by the way?” I tried to point upwards, just the thought of the superfluous action seemed beyond my capabilities at this moment.
    “You above all others should know I have not and cannot