Carrion (The Bren Watts Diaries #1)

Chapter 128

BREN

Everything hurts; my body, my legs, my arms. I couldn't speak, and even when I tried, it was suffocating, a big lump welling inside my lungs, unable to break free. In and out, I slipped between being awake and asleep. The next thing I knew, water lapped on my cheeks and ears, the rustle of the wind against the trees, and the occasional hum and drum of planes and gunfire, muffled by some distance.

I opened my eyes a crack, blurry yet bright. Half of my head was throbbing, my muscles numbed. Someone had dragged me out of the river and into the muddy shores, a man panting and grunting beside me. It took me a moment to recognize Logan hunched over, both hands on my chest, his lips inches away from mine. A relieved smile washed over him, heard Indy barking next, his fur matted and wet, but he looked okay.

I stirred, realized now why my chest was burning. Logan did a piss-poor job at administering CPR, and I thought he cracked some of my ribs. It hurt to breathe. But something exploded up to my throat, and I didn't have a choice but to turn to the side and spit out mud and river water, coughing and heaving through clenched teeth.

"You're awake!" Logan said. "Thank God, you're awake! You scared me half to death!"

Indy barked as if agreeing with him.

I lay there for a moment, staring at the sky clogged with black smoke, ashes falling onto my face. I looked around the riverbank, filled with the debris of steel, wood, odd furniture... and bodies. Hundreds of them, sprawled in tangled messes of loose cables, jagged metal, and thick mud, shirts ripped and tattered against the cool wind, their faces caked with dried blood. From the horizon, Harrisburg was in flames and half of the bridge was gone. Makeshift cables, beams, and decking held what was left. I could see the tiny dots of vehicles and people moving across the mangled ruins.

I turned my head to the right, toward downstream. Alfie came into view, trudging across the muddy bank several feet away, carrying a metal pipe. He strode toward two vectors trapped beneath a slab of rebar. Alfie raised the pipe and slammed the back of the vector's head, and hit him over a second time. He did the same for the other.

Closer to the embankment, Edgar leaned against an overturned Humvee, half of its body buried under the mud. Next to him, Nico checked on his wound, tying a clean cloth around Edgar's wounded leg. Edgar sputtered a curse I couldn't make out.

Edgar slammed his fist on the ground. "Not so tight!"

"Quit being such a baby," Nico said.

"Nico! Give me the rest of the first aid. Bren's awake!" Logan said.

Nico nodded and extended his hand through the Humvee's broken window, and took out a plastic red box. He patted Edgar on the shoulder before he jogged over to our end of the river and handed Logan the box.

Logan turned to me. "Stay there, Bren. Don't get up. We're going to move you out without hurting you as much, okay?"

"Looks bad, man," Alfie said, coming over toward us. "We're going to move him quickly. We're too exposed, and we don't know who's infected among these bodies."

"One at a time, Alfie," Logan said, annoyed.

I followed where Logan was looking at, confused why I was some fragile, expensive glass they're afraid to break. That was a mistake. I looked down. And there, lodged at the side of my belly, was a piece of wood about the size of my index, middle, and ring fingers together, sticking out of my gut.

My eyes widened. "The fuck...?"

I didn't know if it was from shock or from the dread of seeing my open flesh, but no scream escaped my lips.