Then she heard the driver’s door creak against its hinge. She dared not look. Above her, around her, there were soft sounds. Hands touching. Bodies bumping without force against the skin of the cruiser.
Dez held her breath.
They can’t see me down here. Not through the rain on the windows.
The thin hiss of fingernails on wet glass and dripping metal.
They can’t smell me. The rain stinks of earth and manure and ozone.
The vehicle rocked as someone … something entered it.
Please, God … they don’t know I’m here.
The rain was so loud. It drowned everything out. Dez willed it to drown her out. The air began to burn in her lungs.
JT … where are you?
Outside there was a whishing sound as another vehicle drove by, and then a change in sound as it slowed.
“Hey!” called a voice. “Are you … oh, Jesus Christ!”
The scream of tires. Turning, turning, burning as the water on the blacktop evaporated and the rubber smoked. A higher shriek as the tires found purchase, the roar of the engine as the car accelerated away.
Then nothing but the rain. So much. So heavy.
It fell and fell. A steady thunder on the roof and the rear windshield. Cold and wet breeze coming in through the open door.
But beneath the rain … nothing.
Dez had to let the breath out. It was a fireball behind her sternum.
She let it out open mouthed. Slow, forcing her throat open wide. No stricture, no sound. Exhale it all out. Hold. Wait. Inhale. Silent.
God … don’t let them hear me.
She waited for the dead-limp hands to start beating on the glass. She turned her head an inch and peered up, wanting to see and terrified to see the worm-white fingers poke through the grille.
Waited. Watched.
Dez breathed as silent as a ghost while she waited for the dead to come for her, to take her, to devour her.
She didn’t have her gun. Saunders had taken it. If they got to her, if they infected her, there was not going to be a way out. No exit strategy. No fast ride on the night train. She would die, and be consumed, and …
… God, please don’t let me be a monster.
God, please.
Please.
Please.
Mommy, please …
… Daddy …
Please …
The rain hammered down and the wind blew.