Odium II: The Dead Saga Read Online Free PDF Page A

and he helps me carry the dishes to the kitchen. I place them in the sink and automatically reach for the tap, twisting it for water. Old habits die hard, even after all this time. Frustrated, I twist the tap the other way to close it off, which only leads to me being more frustrated.
    I turn to Deacon. “So, what’s first?”
    “Security, I think. While we’re out we can get supplies if we see any, but let’s not go out of our way for them today. There’s a lot of game around here, and there’s the little brook at the end of this field I can fish from. The forest should provide pretty good basics for mushrooms and berries, so it should only be canned supplies and essentials that we’ll need.” He rubs at his scruffy beard, deep in thought. “I’m thinking chicken wire with cans tied to it all around the place, and maybe a trench too. We could put panels on the windows, and we’ll knock the steps to the porch off. If any flesh eaters get past all of that, they won’t be able to get up to us and we can pick them off easily.” He smiles, pleased with his plan.
    “That could take weeks to do,” I say.
    “So we’ll cover the hardest areas first. It can be an ongoing project. First we chicken wire the place, then we dig trenches. If we do it now while the ground is soft, I don’t think it will take too long. We’re going to need supplies first.”
    I hate having to go on supply runs—they ’re dangerous, and you never know who or what you are going to meet out there—but it isn’t like we can order from the internet and have them home deliver anymore. “We better load up then and head out if we’re going to get started on this project of yours.”
    We lock the front door on our way out, lest anyone think the place isn’t taken, and trudge back through the woods. I look at the two graves marked by a cross of stones on top of each heap as we pass. I hate that we killed these people, but it’s kill or be killed these days, and like Deacon had said, it will always be us that survives, no matter what.

Chapter 5
     
     
    Nina.
     
    Emily sits with me each day while I eat, watching every forkful, insisting that I finish everything on my plate even when I say that I’m full. Our roles have reversed, and it seems that she is now the caregiver and I am the child in this unusual adoptive mother-daughter bond that we have. She brings first aid for me, antibiotics and painkillers, bandages and even another pillow for my bed. A guard is always stationed by the door watching us, making me feel uncomfortable if we’re talking too much. But I’m not touched again, not harmed in any way.
    My concern for her— for us—grows with each passing day. Every day I feel angrier at Mikey. He doesn’t come to see me and explain, or to check that I’m okay. Nothing, nada, zilch. I know my words hurt him, but they were true words. He is a murderer and I expected more from him, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see him—need to see him. Emily doesn’t tell me anything about him, and I don’t bother to ask, either, but only because I think I’ll completely lose it if I do. The oddest thing is that Emily doesn’t talk about the Forgotten or where we are, and if I try to talk to her about anything she makes a quick retreat and I’m left to my own thoughts again. So I stop asking and try to bask in the glory of getting healthy again, healing, eating, and still being alive.
    I watch the people from my window as I gain my strength back, my bruises fading but still vivid, my cuts healing yet still painful. I feel like I’ve entered the Twilight Zone: another world lives beyond the glass—another life, another existence. My jealousy of them grows. Why couldn’t I be one of these lucky people? Why am I always on the run or at death’s door? Being ordered around by assholes? On really dark days I think of Britta and Josie, JD and Duncan. Maybe even Crunch gets a passing thought—but then that bitch tried to kill