I squeezed the lever on the handlebars, making the bike snarl loudly, and Zeke jumped. “Do you want to do this or not?” I asked as he glared at me. His jaw tightened, and he gingerly swung his bad leg over the seat, sliding in against my back. I felt the warmth of his body, even though he tried to hold himself away, and felt the pounding of his heart in his chest. It made me thankful I didn’t have a heartbeat, or mine would be doing the same.
“Hold on tight,” I muttered as he strapped on the helmet. “This thing has some kick to it.”
I gunned the engine, probably a little harder than I should have, and the bike jumped forward. Zeke yelped and grabbed my shoulders. “Sorry,” I called back to him, as he reluctantly slid his arms around my waist. “Still getting the hang of this.”
I tried again, a bit slower this time, and the bike eased forward as I maneuvered it down the streets. Once we reached the main road, I stopped and glanced over my shoulder. Zeke’s face was tight, his arms and back stiff, whether from discomfort or pain or both.
“Ready for this?” I asked, and he nodded. “Then hang on. I’m going to see how fast we can really go.”
His arms tightened around me, his heart thudding against my back. I turned the bike east, kicked it into motion, and the engine roared to life as it surged forward. We gained speed, the wind shrieking in my ears as we went faster and faster, nothing between us but empty road. I felt Zeke’s arms squeezing my ribs, pressing his face to my back, but I raised my head to the wind and howled.
Above us, the full moon shone huge and bright on the flat prairie, lighting our way as we sped east, toward the end of the road.
*
I COULD’VE RIDDEN FOREVER. The wind in my hair, the open highway ahead of me, flying down the road at this crazy speed; it never got old. Unfortunately, the approaching dawn and Zeke’s condition forced us to stop a couple hours before sunrise, pulling up to a crumbling farmhouse to rest and rebandage Zeke’s leg. After clearing out the colony of rats that had made their nest in the dilapidated kitchen, I sat Zeke down at the table to check his wound. The gash didn’t look infected, but I poured liberal amounts of peroxide on it before wrapping it in clean bandages. The strong odor of chemicals, mixed with the scent of Zeke’s blood, made me a tad nauseated, which I took as a blessing in disguise. I had no desire to bite him when he smelled so strongly of disinfectant.
“Thanks,” he muttered as I rose, gathering up the old bandages to bury outside. I didn’t think there were rabids nearby, but you could never be too careful. Rabids probably had no issues drinking peroxide-scented blood.
“Allison.”
I turned warily. From the tone of his voice, I knew he was just as uncomfortable as me. Zeke was silent for a moment, as if debating whether or not he should say something, then he dropped his shoulders with a sigh.
“Why did you come back?”
I shrugged. “I was bored? I had nowhere else to go? It seemed a good idea at the time? Take your pick.”
“I would’ve shot you,” Zeke went on softly, staring at the ground. “If I’d seen you, hanging around? I would’ve done my best to kill you.”
“Well, you didn’t,” I said, sharper than I intended. “And it doesn’t matter now—though next time, if you don’t want me saving your life, just say so.” Turning away, I started to leave.
“Wait,” Zeke called and sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, finally looking up at me. “I’m trying, Allison, I am. It’s just…you’re a vampire, and…” He made a frustrated, helpless gesture. “And I wasn’t expecting…any of this.”
“I didn’t bite anyone,” I told him quietly. “That’s the truth, Zeke. I didn’t feed from anyone in the group.”
“I know,” he said. “I just thought—”
“But I wanted to.”
He looked up sharply. I faced him, my voice and expression calm. “There were a lot of times,” I continued, “where I could have fed off you, Caleb, Darren, Bethany. And it was hard, not to bite them, not to feed from them. The Hunger, it’s constantly with you. That’s what being a vampire is, unfortunately. You can’t be around humans for long and not want to bite them.”
“And, you’re telling me this…why?”
“Because you need to know,” I said simply. “Because this is what I am, and you should know what that is, before we go any further.”
His voice was cold again. “So, you’re saying…none of us will ever really be safe around you.”
“I can’t promise that I will never bite any of you.” I shrugged helplessly. “The Hunger makes it impossible not to crave human blood. We can’t survive without it. And maybe you were right to drive me off that night. But I can promise you this—I will keep fighting it. That’s the best I can offer. And if that’s not enough, well…” I shrugged again. “We can worry about that after we’ve rescued the others.”