Eat the Ones You Love (The Thirteen Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

kept watching for sweat, which would mean the fever was breaking. But there was no sweat, just pink, feverish skin, and she could smell it now. The smell of illness seemed to ooze from his pores and turned Jenny’s stomach. She had to get him well again. Zeke was the only one who knew where to find Anna Hawkins' mad science lair.
          Casey first told Jenny about the bunker, where he lived with their mother. Jenny shuddered at the thought of Casey stuck underground in the middle of the Colorado wilderness with Anna Hawkins, who was slowly going insane. Casey had   been a prisoner there. And when Zeke saw the bunker in a vision, Jenny knew they had to go there: First the bunker in Colorado, then New York, where Abel told her Anna was being held prisoner.  
    And then Abel died too.
    So many dead. All dead because they followed Jenny. All dead because of what her mother did. She couldn't dwell on it. It did no one any good to dwell.
    Trix was driving because Declan had the tendency to slam on the brakes whenever he saw anything Living. Declan rode with his hoodie pulled down over his eyes and zipped up past his nose. But after about fifteen minutes, it was Trix who slammed on the brakes.
    Zeke jolted upright.
    “Are we there yet?” he slurred.
    “Can we fucking talk about the elephant in the car?” said Trix, watching her through the rearview mirror.
    “What are you talking about?” said Jenny.
    Declan took off his hood.
    “You smell like fucking blood,” said Trix.  
    “No I don’t,” said Jenny.  
    “Did you think we wouldn’t notice?” Trix asked. “We’re fucking zombies.”
    “Jen,” said Declan, half turning to look at her. “I had to open my window. It’s okay to say it.”
    “No it’s not,” said Jenny, suddenly angry. “It’s not fucking okay. Nothing’s okay.”
    “So you had a snack,” said Trix. “I’m not angry. I’m just disappointed.”
    Jenny glared at her. “I’m supposed to be fixed, remember? I’m supposed to be the goddamn cure. But all I can do all day every day is think about blood and meat and flesh. How is that okay? Does that seem normal to you?”
    “Nothing’s normal,” said Trix. “I just don’t see why you have to be all secretive about it.”
    “Because,” said Jenny. She looked at Declan. “I’m supposed to be better.”
    “Like, you think you’re just going to wake up from being a rotter and just go back to being Charlene Cheerleader again?” said Trix. She took off her sunglasses and Jenny saw her white eyes. “Nothing is ever that easy, Jenny. Not for us. Not anymore. So just don’t lie to us, bitch. It hurts my feelings.”
    Declan laughed.
    “Okay,” said Jenny. She met Declan’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not the cure. Not yet.”
    “I never asked you to be,” said Declan.  
    “I’m feeling uncomfortable in this conversation,” said Zeke.
    “Don’t worry, psycho,” said Trix. “No one’s talking to you. Anyway, you reek of sick.”
    “Thanks,” said Zeke. “And it’s psychic , not psycho.”
    “Whatever, psycho.”
    “I used to be a highly-regarded prophet,” Zeke mumbled before closing his eyes again, leaning his head against the back of his seat.
    “Trix,” said Declan, but she ignored him and continued to address Jenny.
    “Look, all I ask is that you tell me the truth, Jen. It’s all I want. I mean, I wouldn’t say we’re friends or anything touchy-feely like that, but I guess you’ve sort of grown on me.”
    “Awww,” said Jenny.
    “Like a fungus,” said Trix.
    “Trix,” said Declan.  
    Jenny looked out the back where Declan was looking.
    “What?” Trix snapped.  
    “Drive. Now!” said Declan.
    Then Jenny did see something. Shapes in the trees. A gentle rumble in the distance that shook the car. People were starting to emerge from the brush. Heathens with mohawks and badly-shaved heads, women with dreadlocks and braids. And they all seemed to be carrying shining axes and large knives. The