Blood and Water (Sample)

Chapter 2: Three in the Morning

Maia cried herself to sleep that night. Jay couldn't sleep at all.

He gave Maia his bed and lay down on the couch. He tossed and turned for two hours before giving up and going into the kitchen. After feeding Samson, he poured himself a glass of water. It tasted like metal.

Jay needed sleep. He hadn't slept in ages. Wasn't sleep supposed to strengthen your immune system? Not that it mattered. He was already sick.

Now, so was Maia. What were they going to do?

Jay had spent the past few weeks looking for a cure. It was like Maia said—there was no help in London. He wondered if they would've been safer if they'd stayed in Chicago. He couldn't spend time dwelling on the what ifs. It had been Maia's decision to move to London and his to follow her. The virus was everywhere, and it had spread fast. Perhaps they never would have been able to avoid it.

Jay needed to tell his sister he was sick, too. Every time he thought about it, he felt like throwing up—and not because of the virus. Maia thought he was immune. He worked with contaminated people and hadn't gotten sick—but that was before the virus hit London. Once it touched the island, no one was safe. It had taken a while to get to Jay, but the minute he sneezed, it was over. If he went to the doctor, he'd be quarantined. They'd separate him from everyone he loved, and they wouldn't be able to see him anymore. Even if he died, they wouldn't get

to see the body—every sick person ended up cremated, after all. He couldn't risk it. There was no way they were going to take him away from Maia. They were all each other had. He refused to lose her, too.

At three in the morning, he called his friend Sean. Of course, there was no answer. Sean was fast asleep.

He didn't know Jay was sick, either. Jay was too afraid to tell Sean—he wanted to keep his friend around, even though there was a chance Sean would catch the virus. He avoided Sean as much as he could, but he didn't have the courage to sever the connection.

If anything happened to Sean, he'd never forgive himself.

Unable to reach Sean, Jay called Melanie McCartney, Sean's girlfriend. He'd been the one to introduce them. Sean's eyes had lit up when he shook Melanie's hand. They'd been inseparable since. Jay had known Melanie since moving to London. He adored her. It helped that he loved Sean, too. Whenever the three of them hung out, Jay was never a third wheel. They were a trio.

Melanie picked up on the third ring, voice thick with sleep. "What's wrong?"

"Why do you think something's wrong?" Jay asked. "The last time you called this late, Samson was choking."

Jay looked over at the cat. Still eating. "I just need somebody to talk to."

"I'll be over in ten. Could you put the kettle on?"

Jay smiled. "No problem."

He could always count on Melanie to cheer him up. She was the only other person who knew he was sick. He hadn't wanted her to know, but she'd walked in on him vomiting the previous week, and that was that. She knew.

The only good thing was that she didn't treat him differently. If anything, she spent more time around him than she had before, even knowing she could catch the virus. She cared that much about him.

Jay picked up the electric kettle and turned on the faucet.

As he set the kettle in the sink, a sharp pain knifed his ribs. He clutched at his sides and doubled over, swearing. The pain was new. His vision darkened.

What was happening to him?

He sank to his knees on the hard tile. Whatever was going on, it was terrifying. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down his face. He was in agony. It was one thing to know the pain was coming, but it had come out of nowhere. His parents had been in so much pain. Was this what it had been like in the end? Had it gotten worse for them?