Flanked Page 28

  Joe spun Peter around and shoved the backpack on him like he was a preschooler. “Shut up and fall in.”

  This was crazy. Flix watched Peter’s open mouth, the way his pupils had dilated, slivers of green around the edges. He grabbed at Joe’s hand to get him off Peter.

  Joe shoved him into the wall and held him there, forearm pinned against Flix’s chest.

  Flix froze. Joe had accidentally broken Flix’s arm a few months ago. He’d flown into a rage brought on by grief at his old partner’s death, and he hadn’t even realized what he’d done. Flix didn’t hold it against him, but he didn’t want a repeat performance, either.

  Joe was so damned intimidating. As much as Flix had wanted to bone him, he’d always been a little afraid of him, too. Joe’s hotness was in direct correlation to his general standing as a badass. Which was fine when his cold anger was never directed at Flix. Now that more and more often it was, Flix had to fight to keep his posture straight and his fingers from fidgeting. But he couldn’t let his friends get hurt just because he was scared. “No. This isn’t smart. We need to wait here —”

  Joe tightened his grip, adding a hand like a vise on Flix’s hipbone. His rapid breath hit Flix in the face.

  Flix flinched, and his cheeks burned. He’d been forced against the wall, powerless. Were the others watching? “I hate you.”

  “When we get to Minneapolis, you can make your own choices, and I won’t interfere. Until then, I swore I’d keep you safe.”

  “Like you kept Marcus safe?”

  Joe stopped, and Flix was hit with the crazy fear that Joe would leave him behind. He realized Joe’s hands were shaking.

  The pressure on Flix’s chest eased. He stood very still.

  Joe leaned in so close that his chapped lips scratched Flix’s ear. It almost felt like a kiss. “I told you, they don’t want us here. If I didn’t force us to leave, they would.”

  “Then let them try their best to force us,” Flix hissed. “We outnumber them.”

  Joe shivered and laid his head on Flix’s shoulder. “I’m afraid of how much I want to force them to let us stay. I can’t be that person, Flix. Let me do what I have to.”

  When Joe backed away and told everyone that Clinton and Maribou needed them to go and thought they’d be better off, Flix shouldered a backpack and resigned himself to doing what Joe wanted, cursing himself the whole while.

  ***

  Vision shields did not have a blizzard setting. The Nightsight worked as well as ever, though, so it made sense to Joe to keep walking once night crept in. His lungs ached from the combination of the cold and exertion, but he didn’t have much choice. The continuous movement kept them from freezing to death anyway, at least until they could find someplace protected to stop for the night. So far, all he had found was snow.

  It had started an hour after they’d left Clinton and Maribou, gentle and floaty at first, then heavy clumps, and finally, hard, wet flakes that came down as fast as a heavy rain. The snow accumulated quickly, thick and slippery under their feet. Then the winds picked up, biting and harsh, and the snow scattered and gathered in great drifts, obscuring everything else as it moved.

  The rusty road markers were almost covered over, but they jutted from the great piles of white enough that Joe at least knew the markers were there. Those alone kept the group from being in danger of walking over a thinly iced lake or something equally catastrophic. They could go over a broken highway like Marcus had done back in Dallas, but this time Joe had tied everyone together, backpack to backpack, when it got hard to see, so hopefully only he would fall before the others got their wits about them and dragged him back up.

  He should have put Devin in the back; he was the biggest and hardiest, the most able to hold his ground and haul a human-sized load, but Joe couldn’t bear the thought of being so far away from him. Those days at Clinton and Maribou’s — not being able to find his father, seeing Devin’s rich grandmother, having to sleep next to Aria because they couldn’t take a chance on letting his true romantic relationship show, and God, that awful commercial — had reinforced that reality, that Joe and Devin weren’t meant to be together after all. But Joe intended to hang on the best he could.

  Something tugged on his backpack. Someone.

  Joe stopped and waited.

  Devin ran into him and stayed there, his body packing a whole lot of weight but not much heat. Aria appeared at Joe’s side. Snow covered her hat, and even in the greenish light of the Nightsight, her cheeks were pink.

  “I need to check on your boy,” she said. “It’s about an hour past time for his next round of meds. He’s going to puke all over you.”

  “Will not,” Devin said.

  Joe looked over his shoulder as Aria pulled out one of the flashlights and shone it in Devin’s face. He blinked away and slapped toward her hand.

  “Let me check you over, jackass.” Aria directed the beam of light back at Devin and inhaled sharply.

  Joe snatched off his vision shields and saw it, too, like a blaring accusation.

  Devin’s lips were blue.

  “What do we do?”

  “We get him someplace warm,” Aria said. “And we lay off the sleeping pills.”

  “Okay.” Joe jerked his backpack off and rifled through it the best he could with gloved hands. He swore, pulled one glove off, and dug around until he found what he was looking for. “Here. I stole these from Clinton and Maribou.”

  Aria pulled the pills from his hand and examined them. “Swallow up, big man. These won’t work as well as the sleeping pills, but they also won’t make you die, either.”

  “Not funny, Aria,” Joe said.

  Aria shook her head and met Joe’s eyes. “I wasn’t joking. Get him somewhere warm.”

  Joe placed a dry kiss, an apology, on Devin’s frigid lips. It wasn’t enough. He gripped the back of Devin’s neck and sucked Devin’s lower lip into his mouth, making slick passes against it with his tongue. He bit down, applying increasing pressure until Devin gasped. Joe let go and hurried to wipe the saliva off Devin’s lips before it froze there. His own cracked lips throbbed, and when he wiped his gloved hand across his mouth, it came away bloody. Small price to pay to make Devin a little less cold.

  Joe increased the magnification feature on his vision shields to the maximum setting and scoured the land all around the road. The heat from the kiss faded, and with the cold came the blame. He’d messed up again, even though he’d sworn he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t necessarily have had to harm Clinton and Maribou in order to be able to stay. Just nudge. Coerce. Force. He could’ve begged to stay in the barn. He could have had some self-control and not run at the first sign of trouble like an immature kid.

  Another tug on the backpack.

  Joe wheeled around, expecting to find Aria or Flix but coming chest-to-chest with Devin instead.

  “Don’t.” Devin waved his hand and smacked Joe’s face clumsily. “Whatever you’ve got going on that’s telling you how you’ve messed up and might get me killed, shut it the fuck off. Get your shit together and lead.”

  Joe’s throat tightened. “You’re starting to get as obnoxious as Victor, papi.”

  “Victor was nowhere near as sexy. Plus, I’m not a complete asshole.” Devin blinked a couple times, but his eyes stayed as unfocused as ever. “I love you. Keep me safe.”

  Joe kept his concentration and didn’t let his thoughts stray again into shame and pointless self-loathing. He had a job to do, and at least Devin thought he was doing okay at it. That’d have to be enough until Joe believed it of himself again.

  A few hours passed before he saw a building not far from the road, so no having to worry about hidden lakes. The structure was brick, definitely. Maybe a church or an old office. The windows and doors had been removed, but they could work with that.

  Joe hustled everyone inside, cut the twine that tied them together as they passed, then walked through the doorway. And still it snowed. He looked up. Saw the b
lustery snow-light sky overhead. Oh, no. The missing door and windows, Joe could accommodate, but no roof? He shook himself. Devin was counting on him. He needed a good plan. That great brain he’d always prided himself on, at least he had that.

  “We’re going to zip the sleeping bags together and make a tent big enough for all of us.”

  Peter’s nose crinkled. “I don’t want to be in a sleeping bag with Devin.”

  “Watch it, jerk-off,” Flix said.

  “Not because he’s a plastic boy. Because he’s going to vomit eventually. You know how my stomach gets when I smell it.”

  Joe almost laughed, it was so nice to have an easy problem to solve. “Flix and I will stay next to Devin, and I’ll open the zipper if he needs to throw up. Let’s get to work.”

  It didn’t take long. The Deep Thaw sleeping bags Devin had bought at the Maze-On were easy enough to form into a lumpy tent, and while nobody could lie down, they were at least all able to warm up, get toasty, even. Devin’s lips lost their frozen hue, and Aria pronounced him no more likely to die in the next twenty-four hours than the rest of them.

  Devin’s head formed the apex of the tent, so the fabric hung in his face. Joe tried to keep the fabric from being bothersome, but Devin got frustrated and said the tent hanging down wasn’t as annoying as having Joe’s hands in his face. Fair enough. Joe settled in against Devin’s chest and reveled in both Devin’s warm body and the fact that he’d been able to find at least a temporary solution to their most pressing problem.

  Of course, bigger problems loomed. Chiefly, how to get Devin medical help and where to go after here. Minneapolis was still over two hundred miles away. Even in perfect weather, walking fast for eight hours a day, the remainder of the journey would take ten days. Maybe Devin could make it that far; maybe he couldn’t. Joe didn’t want to take chances.

  After a couple of hours, he poked his head outside to see if the blizzard had stopped. Snowflakes were falling, but in more of a sleepy cascade than an avalanche. Even the wind seemed less fierce. With any luck, they’d be all set to move on in the morning. He nuzzled back into the tent and tried to sleep.

  Near daybreak, Devin said, “Oh, no,” and lurched forward.

  Joe scrambled out of the makeshift tent and helped Devin stand and shuffle a safe distance away. During the night, Joe had gotten hot and shed his shoes, socks, and shirt, so now he stood shivering in the snow, his feet burning and numb, and watched Devin retch.

  Flix emerged from the tent as the second wave of vomiting started. He winced and regarded Joe from across Devin’s bent back. His gaze trailed up from the waistband of Joe’s pants until it met his eyes. Flix grimaced. “Sorry. Old habits. Go put some clothes on before you freeze to death. I’ve got him.”

  Joe wanted to be stubborn and stay, but the icy, burning pain in his feet had grown insistent. He nodded and let Flix’s fingers replace his in Devin’s hair, let Flix’s other hand smooth over Devin’s back, let Flix’s silky voice be the one that soothed the only love Joe had ever known.

  As he walked back to the tent, he felt Flix’s eyes on his back. It didn’t bother him that Flix was looking; he was vain enough that it bothered him that he didn’t have much left to look at. Joe ran his hand over his diminished chest, his prominent ribs, the concavity of his abdomen. His stomach rumbled, like his touch had awakened it, and he ignored it as easily as he always had. He’d been hungry before. He’d survived worse.

  He’d slipped on his shirt and found his shoes and socks when Aria began unzipping the tent. She stopped when she got near him. “You went barefoot in the snow?”

  Joe rubbed his cold hand over his even-colder pink feet. “He needed help.”

  “Dumb shit. Sit.” Aria dropped down in front of him and reached for his foot.

  Joe jerked away. He wasn’t the one who needed help.

  Aria grabbed at him roughly and yanked his foot into her lap. Her hands felt like fire, and Joe hissed at the mingled pain and pleasure. She kneaded and pulled and even put her mouth on his skin and exhaled, and Joe sunk into it, closed his eyes, and laid his head back against the wall.

  He was so tired. Mentally, physically, emotionally. They’d traveled over 900 miles, and it was almost funny that with so few miles left, relatively, he didn’t care anymore. He just wanted to sleep. To lie on the sleeping bag in this cruddy fallen-in building covered in a blanket of snow, and sleep. He didn’t care about finding out what had happened to Aaron Brady or about making a life for himself in the dome. He didn’t care about Flix and Aria and Peter. He didn’t care about... No, that was one lie too far. He cared about Devin with every breath and heartbeat, but Devin didn’t really need him. He would be better off with someone not so...weary. And Flix would be more than happy to take the job.

  He’d care tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d feel better, be better. But just for today, he wanted to sleep. Aria’s hands kept up their magic, and Peter or someone was unzipping the sleeping bags, letting in more cold and sunlight, and Joe slipped down the wall and groaned when his head touched the welcome, sleeping-bag-covered earth. He rolled onto his stomach and gave in.

  A hand on his shoulder shook him awake. He turned onto his back and found Flix staring at him. God, those dark, serious eyes. Where had the laughing, flighty boy who’d tried to kiss Joe outside the hospital in Waco gone? Joe traced the long scar on Flix’s face. “I’m sorry.”

  Flix’s eyebrows drew together. “Aria needs you. It’s Devin.”

  Joe scrambled for his shoes and shot to his feet. His head spun, and he had to lean against the wall for a moment until the dizziness eased.

  Devin was where Joe had left him, though he wasn’t vomiting anymore. He’d curled into a ball and shudders once again wracked his body. Aria’s hands fretted over him, never lighting in one place long. Futile, helpless touches.

  Joe knelt by Devin’s face and found him crying. Tears trickled from his squeezed-shut eyes and down his ghostly-white cheeks. He reached out a hand, and Joe caught it and brought it to his lips.

  “I can’t do this,” Devin said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It’s —”

  Devin didn’t seem to be listening, so Joe glanced at Aria for help.

  “It’s the headaches,” she said. “His body has completely shed the effects of the pain pills, and the pain is too much. He threw up for over an hour straight, just bile and dry heaves, until he got too exhausted.”

  Why hadn’t they helped him? “Give him more medicine.”

  “I don’t have more medicine, and even if I did, we can’t take a chance on giving him more CNS suppressants, not after his lips turned blue like that.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “Nothing. I told you already, the only way to help him is to get him to a doctor. If I had nanotech or something...”

  “The little robots?”

  “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

  “We’re not.” Flix pushed off the far wall. He’d been so quiet, Joe hadn’t even realized he was there. “Maribou told Devin that Iowa State is still in business up in Ames. A school would have nanotech.”

  Joe grabbed onto the idea. “How far away?”

  “Ten miles, give or take.”

  “Done. Let’s get Devin up and —”

  Aria grabbed Joe by the arm and jerked him over to where Flix stood. “I want you two to listen good. Devin isn’t going anywhere. He’s too weak, in too much pain. Just look at him.”

  Devin’s hair was plastered to his head. Sweat dripped from the tip of his nose. He’d stopped crying, but those horrible shudders still gripped his body. He didn’t even seem to be aware of their conversation.

  Joe nodded. “Then I’ll go and bring it back.”

  Aria laughed without humor. “Absolutely not. You’re barely fit to travel as it is. You’re making shitty decisions. You’re not eating. You passed out for over an hour just because I rubbed your feet.”

  “You don’t get a vote. You —” />
  “I do.” Devin’s strained voice made everyone jump. “She’s right. No one goes it alone.”

  “Papi” — Joe went back to Devin and cupped his face in his hands — “I have to. We have no choices.”

  “Stay with me.”

  Joe wished he could. Forever. Not just right now. He kissed the top of Devin’s head. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “No!” Devin shouted, then the dry heaves started again. “Damn you, asshole.”

  “Don’t do this, Joe,” Aria said.

  Peter brushed Joe’s arm. “Boss, I don’t think —”

  “Ames is on the highway,” Flix said. “I’ll give you the map and three days. If you aren’t back, we’ll come after you.” He hesitated. “Sound all right?”

  “I’ll take Peter with me.” It was a peace offering. Joe brushed his lips over Devin’s cheek. He tried for Devin’s lips, but Devin turned away at the touch. “I’ll be back for you.”

  Joe grabbed his gear and let Devin’s angry curses follow him out the door

  .

  ***

  Peter’s pizazz with rain and snow had worn off quickly. He estimated he’d gone from enchantment to disinterest to hatred between his first clumsy, clomping step in the snow and his fifth. That was the step where a freezing trickle of liquid had penetrated his trousers and socks. By the time they’d made it to that partially collapsed building where they’d spent the night, Peter didn’t want to experience any weather-related wetness ever again. He certainly hadn’t wanted to tromp out into melting snow and rain showers first thing in the morning. But here he was.

  They’d left the others around three hours ago, but they couldn’t be more than ten kilometers away. Without Devin there to slow them down, Peter had expected Joe to urge him to pick up the pace, but if anything, Peter had been the one to encourage Joe to move faster.

  Peter had a sneaking suspicion Joe hadn’t slept the night before, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Joe eat since leaving that farmer family. Every once in a while, Joe’s unsteady steps faltered, and he stumbled along as though a hard gust of the strengthening wind at his back would knock him off his feet.