Edge of Humanity: Book 2 in the Saving Humanity Series

CHAPTER 8

Exhaustion settled over Caleb as he relaxed further into the mattress. Every inch of his body fired with pain brought about—no doubt—by the doctor's examination. He had been feeling slightly better until the doctor started poking him. He grimaced. If he thought it was safe, he would ask for some painkillers, but he had to keep his senses sharp. The thought made him chuckle inwardly. What did it matter if his senses were sharp, he couldn't move to do anything. Painkillers might make it so he didn't care if he moved. Well, assuming he could move at all. He hadn't exactly walked into this place on his own. His grimace deepened. The sooner he recovered, the sooner he could get away.

He turned his head to look at Southern Boy and Bandana Girl, who still stood next to his bed. "You should go ask the guy if I can have something for the pain."

Southern Boy shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. "I'm glad to see you're finally taking your health seriously. More than likely, you'll be able to have some Tylenol for that concussion of yours, but the doc is a touch busy at the moment." He glanced across the room, then back at Caleb. "I'll ask him in a bit. I'm Venger, by the way, and this is True." He nodded toward the girl.

Caleb rolled his eyes and inhaled an irritated breath. The last thing he wanted was to get chummy with these people. The less everyone knew about each other, the better. "I would say it's nice to meet you, but since you put me in this position, I'm not sure we can be friends."

Venger shrugged. "Fair enough. I'm sure it makes no difference to reiterate it was an accident."

Caleb cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. "Not really."

"I've got some things to take care of. True, do you mind keeping our guest company?"

"Not at all."

"Thanks. I'll be back to check on you later." He nodded at Caleb, unfolded his arms, and walked off.

Caleb couldn't tell if Venger really had stuff to take care of or if he just didn't like confrontation. He assumed it was the latter. Even in the van when the conversation got a little heated, Venger turned away. Caleb didn't care. The less interaction they had, the better.

Caleb watched him pause at the crowd around Samuel. He rose up onto his toes to look over the group, but it must have been to no avail because, after a few moments, he continued on his way. Disappointment settled over Caleb. He probably wasn't getting any Tylenol any time soon.

True rolled a stool next to the bed and took a seat. Caleb directed his attention to her. This close, he saw the thin layer of dust covering her from head to toe. She didn't look much older than he was. Faint lines were etched at the corners of her eyes; telltale signs she had seen her share of zombies. Caleb was sure her bandana covered lines on her forehead. Faint freckles ran across her nose and onto her cheeks. She definitely had a charm about her. It wasn't the same charm Jan had, but Caleb didn't feel threatened in her presence—although he didn't exactly feel comfortable either. If the situation of how they met had been different, Caleb would probably go out of his way to get to know her better. But, as it was, he needed to keep his distance. Her shoulders slumped as she turned side to side on the rotating stool.

"I don't need a babysitter. Thanks to you, I'm not going anywhere."

Caleb didn't see the point in being friendly or kind. He was upset he was in this position, even more upset than he had been in Samuel's possession. At least with Samuel, Caleb knew what to expect. He knew at some point in time, the opportunity would present itself for him to escape. Now, everything had been shot to hell. He was in terrible shape—and pain—and he had no idea where he was.

Neither does anyone else. You can disappear. The plan remains the same. Be patient. Be smart. Move when you can.

"Is that your real name? True? And what about him? Venger seems a bit odd for a given name." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He didn't want—or need—to know anything about these people.