Dravko was taken aback. "Robson stood up for us at Site R when Compton wanted to eliminate us."

"Don't get me wrong. Robson is a decent human, and I like him for that. There were many times on the way to Site R that he could have left us for dead. However, this alliance is not going to work unless he starts showing us the same respect that Paul did."

"How can he do that?"

Tibor stared at Dravko, frustration in his eyes, like a professor trying to get one of his students to comprehend a simple thought. "When Robson decided to risk all of our lives to save Windows from the rape gang, did he consult with you or ask if you're willing to go along?"

"No."

"Do you know what his plan is for getting Windows out?"

"No."

"Who did he take with him today to check out the compound? His new friends, Simmons and Wayans. h.e.l.l, he's even embraced that a.s.shole Caslow. Maybe he doesn't realize it himself, but Robson is rebuilding the ranks of the humans with our group, replacing those we lost with people we know nothing about. And because he doesn't have the same dedication to our alliance that Paul did, he's more p.r.o.ne to listen to these new humans."

"You're misjudging him."

"Am I?" Tibor wore that infuriatingly smug expression he always did when about to make a point. "For the past two nights, Paul and the others have been over at the rectory dining on fresh meat and vegetables like it's a big party. When was the last time we ate?"

That last question struck Dravko. He had been so preoccupied with everything that had happened since arriving back at Fort McClary he had not realized they had run out of their prepared blood supply two days ago. Sure, he felt hungry, but it had not yet developed into a l.u.s.t to feed.

"You know I'm right," Tibor continued. "Robson hasn't even thought to ask for volunteers to supply us with blood. What do you think is going to happen when he asks his new friends to ante up a pint? Sure, Caslow would let us feed off of him because he's too much of a coward to refuse. Do you think Simmons and Wayans will roll up a sleeve? And how long do you think it'll be before they start telling Robson that this is his chance to get rid of vampires once and for all?"

"He'd never go for that."

"Did you expect him to marginalize us like he has these past few days?"

Dravko could not respond. Actually, he could, but he did not like the answer.

The lack of a response told Tibor he was correct. "With the death of Elena, you are now the master of the coven. As such, I am sworn to obey and protect you, which I will to the very end. Deep down you know I'm right, and I hope you realize we need to act before the humans turn against us."

"You're not suggesting we turn them?"

"You wouldn't let me even if I did suggest it." Tibor smiled, although Dravko could not be sure if out of humor or irony. "No, we need to set out on our own as soon as possible. The Hummer will give us the chance to break away."

"And then what?"

"Then we find a small band of humans somewhere and rebuild the coven."

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

Windows sat beside the haggard old man, her legs crossed, feeding him his dinner. Even though the stench still overpowered the room, she had grown used to it. Other than a few pleasantries when she entered, he had not spoken throughout the meal, although every time she spoon fed him he did acknowledge her kindness with a nod. When they had finished, the old man struck up a conversation.

"I heard a lot of commotion outside today. What happened?"

"Some swarmers stormed the outer perimeter."

"Swarmers?"

"That's what I call them." A strand of long gray hair with remnants of baked beans hung across the old man's face. Windows pulled off the food and pushed the hair back behind his ear. "I think your people call them runners."

"We've been seeing a lot more of them and the deaders the past few weeks. Soon we'll all be trapped in here." The old man paused. "Did anyone get hurt?"

"One of the gang members was killed, along with two or three on the Line."

"I wish more of the gang had been killed." The slightest trace of a smile graced his lips, then disappeared. "I feel bad that those people on the Line had to die so horribly. At least they're better off. They live worse than animals out there."

"You're not living in the best of conditions yourself." Windows said it lightly, trying to change the depressing tone.

"Kid, this is a Best Western compared to what those poor b.a.s.t.a.r.ds on the Line have to go through. In here I'm protected from the weather and I'm safe. It's because of my privileged status." The old man spoke the last two words with heavy sarcasm.

Windows saw the opportunity and took it. "Privileged status? Who are you to warrant that?"

The old man lowered his head. "I'm n.o.body important."

"Don't say that. We're all important."

"Not in this place. The only ones who matter are Price and his gang. And even they live or die on his whim. The rest of us are just toys to be used for their amus.e.m.e.nt. You know that better than I do."

The humiliating memories came back to her and Widows winced.

The old man noticed the grimace. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"That's okay. It's true." She reached out and gave his wrist a gentle, rea.s.suring squeeze. "Will you tell me your name?"

The old man shook his head.

"Don't worry about it." Windows released his wrist and stood to leave. When she approached the sliding door, the old man called to her.

"Kid, will you take some friendly advice from a n.o.body?"

"Of course."

"You're strong-willed with a good heart. That's a deadly combination around here. Trust me, I know. I've been here from the beginning and seen a lot of people like you wind up on the Line. Or worse."

"You're telling me to change my att.i.tude?"

"h.e.l.l, no. I'd hate to see them break you. I'm warning you to be careful who you trust. Most people around here would gladly feed you to the deaders for an extra ration of food or one night of not being raped."

That's for d.a.m.n sure, Windows thought as she recalled how Debra had arranged for her to be Meat's new play toy so she could get a break. "Does that include you?"

"No. I'm the only person around here who has nothing to gain or lose." Again a slight smile. "You're learning though. And I wouldn't blame you if you stopped treating me kindly."

"You don't have to worry about that." Windows lifted the door and stepped out. Before she closed it, she stuck her head back into the unit. "I'll see you in the morning."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

Natalie sat on the edge of Bethany's bed, stroking the unconscious woman's hair. When her hand brushed across the woman's forehead, she could feel the heat emanating from Bethany's skin. The fever had started late in the afternoon and became progressively worse. Natalie had been sitting with her for several hours, praying it would break. With each pa.s.sing hour, the fever brought with it the realization that everything they had gone through these past two weeks had been a complete failure. Bethany was turning into a rotter, which meant the vaccine had failed.

A light knock sounded behind her and Natalie saw Ari standing in the doorway.

"How's she doing?" Ari asked.

"She's turning."

Ari's mood brightened. "You mean she's getting better?"

"No. I mean she's turning into a rotter."

"Oh." Natalie could feel the enthusiasm drain out of Ari. The young woman entered the room and crossed over to the bed. "She's not turning into one of them. She's going into septic shock."

"What's that?"

"She has a staph infection that can't be treated because we don't have antibiotics." Ari gestured for Natalie to move so she could sit beside Bethany. Ari slipped on a pair of rubber gloves, reached over, and carefully peeled away the adhesive tape holding the blood-soaked bandage to Bethany's cheek. "That's one thing we never considered with the vaccine. While we're no longer in danger of turning, the threat of infection is now much greater. G.o.d only knows what diseases are in a rotter's mouth."

Ari removed the bandage. Yellowish-green pus mixed with the dried blood around the bite marks. The skin was red and inflamed. Ari sighed. "She's going septic We'll survive the initial bite to die a more painful death from a staph infection."

"How painful?"

"The infection has already entered her bloodstream, which is why she's feverish. The blood will spread the infection to her organs, which will eventually fail." Ari poured rubbing alcohol onto a sterile gauze and used it to wipe away the pus and blood around the wound. Even while unconscious, Bethany moaned and moved her head to one side. Ari placed a hand on the opposite side of Bethany's head, pushed it back, and continued to dab. "In the end, she's going to suffer a lot more pain than if she just turned into one of those things."

Natalie hovered over the two women, feeling powerless. "How do you know all this? Were you a nurse?"

"I wanted to be. I couldn't afford nursing school, so I volunteered in a hospital to gain experience while I saved up for cla.s.ses. Mich.e.l.le, one of the floor nurses, appreciated my enthusiasm and mentored me. We were on duty together the night of the outbreak. Mich.e.l.le died when one of the victims turned on the ER table and ripped a chunk out of her throat. I guess this is my way of paying back all she did for me."

"She'd be proud of you." Ari placed fresh gauze over Bethany's wound and taped it into place.

"Is there anything you can do for her?"

"Without antibiotics, no. All we have are over-the-counter pain relievers, so we can't even make her comfortable in her final days. And believe me, she's going to suffer a lot over the next few days." An uncomfortable silence followed while Ari finished taping the gauze to Bethany's face.

"Is there anything we can do to stop her suffering?" asked Natalie.

"Yes." Ari stood up. She dropped the soiled gauze into a plastic bag, removed her rubber gloves, and dropped them into it as well. "You're not going to agree with it."

"How?"

"We can put her down gently."

"You mean kill her?"

"I mean euthanize her. Unfortunately, we have no way of doing it humanely. We don't have morphine or prescription pain killers, so there's no way to put Bethany to sleep."

"So the only way to stop her from suffering is to let her go?"

Ari's lips tightened. "Yes."

Natalie didn't even want to consider the possibility. "There's no way I could do that to Bethany."

"I wouldn't want to have to make the decision, either. Just so long as you realize that one way or another, Bethany is not going to make it. How much she suffers is up to you."

Ari exited the room, pausing just long enough to give Natalie a rea.s.suring pat on the shoulder. Natalie sat back down on the edge of the bed and began stroking Bethany's hair again, struggling with the decision about what would be best for her friend.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.

A soft hand against Windows' shoulder brought her out of her slumber. At first, she didn't realize someone was trying to wake her because of the deep sleep she had been in, the result of not having to satisfy Meat the night before. The nudging continued until Windows stirred and groaned.

"Miss Windows, are you awake?"

"I am now." She rolled over. Cindy knelt beside her. "What's up?"

"Can you help me? Something happened to my mother."

Windows sat up and threw off the folds of the sleeping bag. "What happened?"

"Something bad."

When Windows got up, Cindy took her hand. She led Windows out of the container unit and toward the far end of the compound near the kitchen. The first rays of sunlight streaked across the eastern horizon. Everyone was still inside, either sleeping off their drunken binges from the night before or, in the case of the women, resting up after another night of abuse. Cindy maneuvered through the landscape without concern, either oblivious in her youth to the dangers it posed, or showing an incredible ability to adapt.

They reached the end of the compound. Cindy turned the corner at the end of the row of storage units and pointed ahead of her without saying a word.

Windows let go of Cindy's hand and covered her mouth, stifling a scream.

Debra dangled from one of the light fixtures bolted into the top of the perimeter wall. One end of a rope was anch.o.r.ed to the fixture, the other end forming a noose around Debra's neck. A wooden stool lay overturned by her feet.