Free Virgo's Vice by Trish Jackson Page A

was it?” Jared asks.
    “It was too dark to see,” Billy answers for me.
    “Animals are scared of fire, aren’t they?” I say to him.
    “Sure.”
    “The shelter’s done,” Kelli says. “You can put your stuff in there now.”
    I edge over to the tree where Trip is standing and grab my backpack. He bends down to help me and I yank it away from him. “Leave it,” I hiss.
    Someone has left a lighted candle on a tree stump that’s doubling as a table inside the shelter. It makes flickering shadows on the leafy walls, but there’s enough light to see by.
    “The girls put their backpacks in this trunk, and the guys in the other one.” Kelli points. “My feet are better. Maria—she’s the nurse—put some salve and Band-Aids on them.”
    I dump my bag with the others, where Kelli shows me, and go back for the cardboard box with Jake’s food in it. Trip watches me pick it up and move it into the shelter, but doesn’t try to help me this time.
    I drop the box where it’ll be out of the way, under the bed in the shelter, and bring out Jake’s bowls and open his bag of food, and pour some out. He licks my hand and then buries his nose in it and starts crunching. “You’re hungry. Me, too,” I say to him. “At least you had a drink.”
    Mark has moved the big cardboard box that holds the camera equipment into the shelter and I make certain my camera is there before I go back to the fire.
    “Can I have a drink yet?” I say to Faith.
    She stares at me for a few seconds with those weird eyes. “Yes. I don’t know why you’re asking me, but you can. Just remember to ration it. There’s only enough for one mug full each.” She says this loudly so most of the people sitting around the fire can hear her.
    I grab my mug and head for the water bags, which are on the tree beyond the one Trip is leaning on. I feel his eyes on me again and it sets my teeth on edge. Billy brings his mug and helps me pour water into mine. I try to sip the water slowly but end up gulping it all down in one swallow. I’m still thirsty.
    I can smell the rice cooking now, and my stomach rumbles. I perch at the end of one of the logs in front of the fire and listen to the murmur of conversation. Jared and Billy and Andy are standing a short distance from me and every now and then I can hear Billy’s laugh. I think about the day’s events. It has definitely been the strangest day of my life, and the scariest at one point. I swallow hard. I find myself wondering why I thought I could do without my meds. I laugh cynically to myself. You chose this. Now suck it up. I’m always such a wuss. At the first sign of trouble I can’t wait to get to the Zoloft, and I really wish I had brought some with me now, but it scared the crap out of me when my shrink said it could have lasting effects on my balance, and I could get shaky hands that wouldn’t go away. I hold out my hands in front of me. I can’t see them in the shadows, but I can feel them shaking. It’s probably withdrawal symptoms.
    Mark sinks down beside me. He’s still carrying his camera. He turns it off and rests it on his legs, which are stretched out in front of him. “You okay?”
    “Yeah. Thanks. Tired,” I say with a yawn. “I’ll take over filming if you like.”
    “Nah,” he says. “I’ll take a little footage of them all eating and when they get into bed, but then I’m shutting it down. Yours is in the shelter.”
    “I saw it. Thank you.” I yawn again.
    “The next problem,” Trip, who is still standing on his own, says loudly, “is eating utensils. We don’t have anything.”
    “We’ll have to use sticks,” Eve says. “Like chopsticks.”
    Nobody has a better idea, and Jared, Trip, and Billy get the flashlight and the machetes and head into the darkness beyond the camp.
    A few minutes later, we hear a scream and running footsteps, and Jared is charging toward us. We all leap to our feet and turn to face him. My heart is beating so hard I wonder if