Page 20 of Outbreak (Revolution X #1)

CHAPTER 19

Rue

S uddenly, getting kidnapped and taken on a fucking road trip against my will is the least interesting thing to happen to me this week.

Ghost is rattled, panicked almost. His tone kills the snappy comeback I’d normally throw at him as I listen to him and turn around, jerking the seat belt around my body and clicking it into place. My heart pounds in my chest as I see more dead people flooding into the road that’s fading behind us in the side mirror. I want to panic. Curl into a little ball on the floor and cover my eyes. But I can’t. I need to keep myself aware and alert.

Closing my eyes, I take a steady breath. Pull it together, bitch! You’re safe. Yeah. Right. Safety is just a pretty illusion people trick themselves into believing is real. No one is ever safe from the realities of life.

Life is a cunt who gets their rocks off from kicking you in the balls for shits and giggles. Pretty white fences and a lifetime of debt don’t make a home. Home is finding someone who makes going through this shitshow just a little easier because they are with you through it all. I thought I’d found that—once in a lifetime kind—neighbor boy who made the bad times just a little easier to get through. But he left, like everyone else in my life. Left me to fend for myself and figure out how to do this on my own.

I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone like that again, but Ghost, he’s not terrible in a crisis. He calms me when the panic closes in and protects me, even if he doesn’t realize it. He might have kidnapped me, but I know, without question, he wants me safe.

The shrill beep sounds from the radio, cutting through my thoughts, and I peel my eyes open to see Ghost turning it up. The emergency broadcast signal fills the truck as I wait with bated breath to see what it says.

Emergency Broadcast Message:

Local authorities in your area have reported that bodies of the infected are reviving after death and attacking the living. Do not attempt to approach or apprehend these bodies, as they are considered extremely dangerous and highly contagious. The CDC has advised the following: Stay indoors. Do not interact with others who may have come in contact with the virus. If you have been exposed or infected, please isolate yourself. Transmission of the virus has been determined to be via saliva or blood contact with open wounds. Symptoms of the virus include persistent fever, bleeding from eyes, ears, and mouth, and behavioral changes. This warning applies to all areas receiving this broadcast. It is expected that all broadcasting, cellular service, and electrical service will be interrupted. Please use your battery-powered radio. Tune into Emergency Broadcast Channel, 777 AM, to get updated information.

The broadcast ends with the beeping tone once again before repeating itself on a loop. Ghost leans forward, turning the radio off.

“Well. I’m not crazy then. This is actually happening,” he states absentmindedly, his gaze distant as he white-knuckles the steering wheel.

My face turns back to the road before us, my gaze blurry and unfocused as my heartbeat pounds in my ears. “This is happening.”

“Hey. Don’t panic,” he says, reaching over and grabbing my hand, interlacing our fingers. I can barely feel his warm skin on mine. I don’t think I’m in my body anymore. “I’ve got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I know you don’t trust me; I get that. But you can trust that.”

Lower and lower, I feel my mind retreating from reality and into myself. Into the cozy blank void where nothing matters and most importantly, where no one can hurt me. I want to believe him. I want to trust that he has my best interests and safety at heart. But I can’t. How can I? I don’t even know who he is. I feel like I do, but I can’t trust myself. My trauma-fueled brain makes me question everything I think and feel. How can I trust someone else when I can’t trust myself?

“Get out of your head, Rue. I need you to breathe for me. Slow and deep,” his tone is deeper, more commanding than before. My lungs comply at his will—obeying without allowing me time to overthink something as simple as breathing. My own body betrays me. My mind too, thrusting me back into reality, back into the truck with him.

“I don’t know you,” I whisper, the words nearly fading over the noise of the truck engine.

“Rue…” He starts, but his phone rings, cutting him off. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath as he untangles our hands and picks it up.

“Hey man, are you good?”

“Still breathing. And that’s more than I can say for half the world right now. Did you hear the broadcast?” A man's deep voice crackles through the speaker.

“Yeah, we just heard it. Shit’s getting crazy.”

“ We ? So, I guess you made it in time to pick up your package?”

“Yep. I got you on speaker man, I’m driving.”

“How far are you from the cabin?”

Cabin? I guess we’re going to a cabin somewhere.

“Not sure at the moment. Shit just got fucking real on the east side of the Mississippi River.”

“No shit. Louisiana is a dead zone now. And it's spreading through the south like wildfire. I’ll be at the cabin by morning. I’ll get everything prepped and ready. Cell service won’t be on much longer, so no detours. Make it here alive, Ghost.”

“You too, Reaper.”

“Have you seen one yet?”

“Yeah, a bunch. Had to kill two.”

“Yeah…” there’s a long pause as the weight of our new reality sinks in. “We lost Viper. It was bad, Ghost. I’ve never seen a fever so bad. It got so high, he started hemorrhaging from his fucking eyes. He died, man. I held his hand when he took his last breath. I was digging a grave for him, and he just… got up and came at me. I– I had to put him down.”

“Fuck,” Ghost growls, hitting the steering wheel once and sighing deeply.

“Just get to the cabin. We’ll be safe there until…” Static muffles his words.

“Reaper?” Ghosts asks before the phone beeps and drops the call.

“Fuck!” He hits the steering wheel again, making me jump in my seat, and my heart speeds up as he tosses the phone on to the dash. “Well, there goes the cell service. Fucking SOS.”

“Hey. Calm down before we crash. Who was that?” I ask, trying to calm us both before we end up in a ditch with the dead on top of us.

“A friend,” he says tightly.

“And we’re meeting him at a cabin?”

“Yeah,” his voice is still distant, reminding me of my own.

We ride in silence, both of us undoubtedly trying to figure out how to process the world as we know it being gone. It’s a heavy feeling. I can’t get out of my mind what his friend said. What did he even mean? Mallory and Noah are still in Louisiana. “Your friend—what he said about Louisiana. Do you think my friends are dead?”

“I—uh, I don’t know,” he says, and I appreciate that he doesn’t lie to me to soften the blow. It doesn’t make it hurt any less. I feel like someone just knocked the breath out of me. Tears stream down my face without my consent. I haven’t allowed myself to get close to anyone since…

No. Don’t go there right now.

I let myself get close to them, and this time I left them when they needed me.

They died alone.

They needed me. I could have helped them. We could have gotten out together. I could have… I should have… I?—

The forgotten leash that’s been loosely hanging from my neck pulls tight, jerking my whole body towards the middle of the truck and into the console.

“I need you to breathe for me, Rue. You’re panicking again.” Ghost’s voice tunnels through the thick fog around my mind. “That’s it. Follow my voice. Come back to me. Breathe.”

“They’re dead.” I pant, my breaths labored and constricted as they tried to squeeze through my tightening throat. “My friends… are dead.”

“You don’t know that. They could have gotten out.”

“Mallory couldn’t fight a toddler, much less a full grown dead man! And Noah. Oh God, Noah!” Darkness fades around my vision as I yell breathlessly at him. He doesn’t know them. If they didn’t get out in time…

“You need to calm down. You’re going to pass out.”

“I can’t!” My body flails against the seat; I feel like crawling out of my skin. I can’t breathe.

“Yes, you can. If you can scream, you can breathe.” he says, pulling the leash tighter instead of giving me the slack I so desperately need. “Listen to me. I can help you. Lay your seat back.”

“W-what?” I stutter out.

“Lay. Your. Seat. Back,” He speaks slowly, enunciating every word of his command until my hand moves on its own to the lever on the side of the seat, laying me back.

“Good girl,” he growls, and the fog fades a smidgen more. “Now, slide your hand down your pants and touch yourself.”

I’ve definitely lost my fucking mind. There’s no way he just said what I think he said.

“I didn’t fucking stutter. You need the release, and I can’t stop the truck right now. So you’re going to get yourself off, and I’m going to watch. Put everything else out of your mind and focus on my voice. Can you be a good girl for me and rub your little clit?”

And the most fucked up part of all is I don’t even protest. My hand slides down my black leggings, my fingers sliding easily down my bare slit. I don’t even have to work myself up. Ghost has kept me in a perpetual state of arousal for the most fucked up reasons. “Tell me how soaked my pretty pussy is, Rue.”

A whimper slips out unbidden. His mouth is filthy. He doesn’t wait for my response, only my compliance as I start making circles around my clit.

“If I wasn’t driving right now, I’d tie you up in the back and bury my face in your cunt. I want to know how sweet your pussy tastes when you get wet for a stranger you don’t know.” He throws my words back at me, but I don’t care. He’s kept me so on edge, I’m well over half-way to falling over the cliff I so desperately need to.

Every muscle in my body feels like a tightly strung bow, just waiting for the arrow to be released from the confines and plunge straight into its target. I don’t think I’ve ever needed an orgasm more than I do right now. I can feel it, zinging through my nerves, frying my common sense that says this is too fucked up. It’s right there, teetering on the edge of my oasis. I can’t speak. I can’t think. And when Ghost tugs on the leash roughly, a long, shuttering moan fills the truck as I shatter in his front seat.

I close my eyes tightly and try to catch my breath as Ghost jerks my hand from my pants and practically pulls me over the console again. His eyes never leave the road as he brings my hand to his face, lifting the mask quickly over his mouth. His tongue wraps around my dripping fingers like a snake, coiling around and tasting just how sweet my pussy is for a stranger I don’t know.

“You taste…” he growls, sucking my fingers into his mouth, not wasting a single drop. He releases them with a pop. “Like mine .”