“So do I,” Trisk said. Shedding her blanket, she threw it into the open cell. “Where is Kal?” she asked as she followed Daniel to the lockers.
“Looking for you.” Orchid darted up to the high window and peered out. “I took the abandoned buildings,” Orchid continued as Trisk sat to put on her shoes. “He’s hitting the hospitals, searching among the survivors. There’s a lot, actually.”
“That’s good to hear.” Daniel checked his wallet and tucked it in his back pocket. “I don’t want to be the last human on earth.”
He clearly meant it to be in jest, but Orchid made a rude noise. “I meant surviving vamps,” she said. “Humans are another story.”
“They can’t be all dead,” Trisk whispered. “It can’t possibly be moving that fast.”
Quen came back from the front office, his eyes haunted. “Stay left. Don’t look around,” he said as he grabbed his shoes, putting them on even as he shepherded the group to the front.
“They can’t be all dead,” Trisk said again, then reeled, hand over her face as she left the cellblock. Head down. Stay left, she thought as her feet scuffed on the dirty tile. But when she saw someone’s foot, she couldn’t help but look up. Swallowing hard, she averted her eyes. It was one of the younger officers, still sitting at the desk he’d died at. His face was covered in welts and blisters, his eyes swollen shut even with the blood pooled in his feet.
“It’s spotty.” Orchid flew beside her, tiny fingers delicately pinching her nose shut. “The news says big cities are handling it better, but smaller towns don’t seem to have enough Inderlanders in them to keep services going and information flowing. Stay here. I’ll go get Kal.”
“In the street, maybe,” Trisk said, gagging at the smell.
Zipping up his boots, Quen harrumphed. “I’ll come with you.”
Orchid looked him up and down, her eyebrows high. “You can try,” she said, then darted off. In three seconds, she was gone.
Quen hesitated, watching her dust settle. “Damn,” he grumbled. “They’re fast.”
“They’d have to be to keep out of sight,” Daniel said, his eyes carefully down as they wove between the desks. “I can’t believe they’ve been here all this time, and no one knew it.” He hesitated, adding softly, “No one human.”
Trisk felt her gorge rise, and she reached for the wall for balance, sickened.
“You okay?” Daniel said, and she looked up when Quen opened the front door.
“I don’t know,” she said, relishing the fresh air slipping in. Maybe the entire plague was her fault.
“We’ll get you something to eat and you’ll be fine,” Daniel said. “Your blood sugar is low. Look. Your hands are shaking.”
She made fists of them, embarrassed. Her knees were wobbly as they went out, and she hid her hands in her pockets while she teetered down the wide, shallow stairs to the sidewalk. “I’m just glad we didn’t have to call on Gally.”
“Me too,” Quen muttered, taking in a deep lungful of air as the door clicked shut behind them. “Where do you think we are? That’s not the interstate.”
Daniel squinted at the street signs. “Downtown,” he said shortly. “The hospital they took me to is up that way. I don’t know if that’s really where we want to go, though.”
Trisk shook her head, uneasy. The buildings were taller here than just off the main road—three stories, maybe—solid and made of stone. The street itself was wider. There were birds and the sound of the wind in the awnings. The noise from the nearby interstate was sporadic and light. The noon sun was warm, driving out the chill of their cells. Still, it was obvious all wasn’t right. There was a sour smell, and something was burning in the distance, plumes of black smoke rising into the air.
“There’s a diner two blocks up. It might be open. Trisk needs to eat something,” Daniel said as he looked up the street toward a gathering of cars.
Nodding, Trisk fell in beside him, Quen on her other side. If Orchid found them once, she could find them again. Damn. Kal. “Hey, can I ask you guys not to say anything to Kal about . . .” She took a breath, reluctant to say it aloud. “You know,” she finished, feeling her face warm.
Quen glanced askance at her as Daniel murmured, “Of course.”
Her flush deepened. “I’m not ashamed,” she said, wishing her face weren’t red. “And I will tell him, but not until I know if it’s healthy. Unless he’s responsible for the plague,” she added, but the need to have viable children was so strong that his causing a plague might not even matter to most elves.
Quen’s stiff shoulders eased. “Sure. I get that,” he said, gaze roving over the empty streets. Curtains were being flicked aside as people watched them, and Trisk wondered if it was as bad as Orchid had led them to believe.
“Besides,” Trisk said, feeling better in the sun with the motion easing her muscles, “I want to make sure it’s true. Gally could’ve been trying to get me to make a mistake.”