The Virus Within: The Road Ahead (Book 1 - SERIES COMPLETED!)

Chapter 23

The stars along the eastern skyline began fading, and I turned my attention to the earliest hints of the sunrise. Even with my sunglasses, I wouldn't be able to watch it for long. The brilliant sunrises and sunsets I had enjoyed as a human were too painfully bright to look at now. It was one of the things I truly missed about being human.

My stronger nighttime instincts slowly abated with the coming morning, trying to urge me to take shelter from the sun as they always did. The desire for darkness made me restless, although I continued watching the sky get lighter.

Eventually, I had to look away. I put more wood on the coals to build it up for cooking. With a frown at the tiny bucket by the fire, I jumped off the roof and went into the store. There had to be something better around. After a bit of searching, I found a couple of collapsible buckets that were bigger and could also be flattened for easier transport.

I grabbed them and left one by the ladder. Taking the second one with me, I went in search of water. My nose led me to the cleanest source nearby, although I had no intention of telling anyone that their water was coming from a rain barrel below a house's downspout. Their other options, like the algae-covered pond, were less appealing.

As I carried the water back, an invisible ripple passed through my body as the edge of the sun peeked above the horizon, forcing my instincts to their lower daytime levels.

Ignoring how my instincts reacted to the sun's presence, I climbed up the ladder. I poured the water into a pot before placing it beside the fire to heat for our non-morning people. I didn't bother adding the iodine tablets since we were saving those in case we needed more water and didn't have time to boil it.

The rest of the water remained in the bucket, which I placed by the fire as a hint that it still needed to be boiled. As I sat back down, I avoided looking at the eastern sky where some wispy clouds were glowing a vibrant orange.

It wasn't too much longer before yawns and the rustling of sleeping bags disturbed the pristine morning. Shortly after, the first yawning people began exiting the tents.

I stifled a sigh as Liz climbed onto my lap. I still couldn't figure out why the child had decided my lap was better than Marissa's, although the woman was currently pouring herself a cup of coffee. I had to admit I had grown so accustomed to the faint burning in my throat that I barely noticed it anymore.

Liz pointed. "Look at the pretty sunrise."

I nodded without looking. "Yes, it's very pretty."

She looked up at me and furrowed her eyebrows. "You didn't even look."

Her tone was faintly accusing. I was torn between mild amusement at her accusation and irritation because I couldn't look at it. I wished I could. I didn't dare try to explain my light sensitivity with our five new guests present. My sunglasses were a fairly easy target, and in the daytime, I was dependent on them.

Liz pointed again. "It's changing to pink! Look!"

The unwitting demand made my instincts stir, and I overruled them with a heavy sigh. Closing my eyes tightly, I turned my head toward the sunrise. Even with my closed eyes and the sunglasses, it was uncomfortably bright, almost painfully so.

After just a few seconds, I looked back down at the child and opened my eyes. Liz smiled up at me, unaware that my eyes had been closed behind my concealing sunglasses. I noticed that Nina was watching me with a curious and somewhat incredulous expression. Daniel looked surprised, although no one else seemed to think anything of me watching the sunrise.

"I love sunrises," Liz said happily, gazing at the pretty colors.

"Each one is special," I agreed, "and no two are alike."