Dead Friends Series (Book 2): Dead Friends Running Read online

  Dead Friends

  Running

  Natalie Carlisle

  Dead Friends Running by Natalie Carlisle

  ©2017, Natalie Carlisle

  Tell-Tale Publishing Group, LLC

  Tucson, AZ 85737

  All rights reserved. No portion of this publication may be reproduced, stored in an electronic system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Natalie Carlisle. Brief quotations may be used in literary reviews.

  Printed in the United States of America

  1

  The cloth mask over my mouth was making my face itch.

  There must have been one stupid stitching out of place or something, because the left strap was irritating my cheek but not the right one. Also, I hated the way every time I took a breath, I felt like I was inhaling fabric.

  But what I hated most was having to wear the damn thing in the first place.

  Stupid. Hospital. Rules.

  The white gown and the latex-free gloves just added to the ridiculousness. But if Missy and I wanted to see Spencer, it’s the only way the doctors would let us in the room. Nothing said, “You’re going to be fine,” like walking into a hospital room dressed in a cheaper version of a biohazard suit, let me tell you.

  Spencer, bless him, pretended like he didn’t notice but I know it bothered him. It had to. It bothered me.

  Melissa and I waited impatiently for a free moment with him, but minutes turned into hours before that actually happened. My legs were starting to fall asleep about the time all our parents stepped out of the room. His parents went to talk privately to the doctor; my mom went to the cafeteria to grab more coffee with Mrs. Frink. It was her fifth cup already today.

  I was beginning to wonder if a person could overdose on caffeine, when Spencer said, “I’m going to okay,” not looking up from his blanket. He was sitting, leaning back against the stiff-looking hospital bed, small beads of sweat dripping down his pale face. IVs hung beside him, connecting to the outside of his hand and the inside crevice of his arm. A loud machine next to his pillow continuously played his heartbeat. An irregular heartbeat. An immediate contradiction to his words.

  I sat still, ignoring the tingling in my feet, staring at him. I didn’t have to turn my head to know Missy was staring at him with the same expression. All we’ve done is watch him with concern, it’s not like we could do much else.

  The two of us were released from physician’s care within twenty-four hours. We didn’t have any symptoms, but since we were also in Pennsylvania at the time of the outbreak, we had to endure our own series of tests and blood work to be certain. I’m assuming it was a simplified version of what Jason, Jacob and Kyle had to go through before being released from quarantine themselves. But whereas our results came back negative, Spencer’s came back positive and he’d been lying in the hospital bed since.

  “The doctor said the medications have a hundred percent recovery rate, it’s just going to take some time to kick in. That’s all,” he continued, beginning to pick at the IV in his skin.

  He didn’t say anything for a few seconds after that. I wasn’t sure if he was waiting for us to say something, or just taking a couple extra breaths. The anxious tremble in his fingers didn’t fill me with much confidence.

  “And honestly, I’m not even worried anymore,” he muttered, his hand pausing. “At first, yeah, obviously…” He looked up, his light, bloodshot eyes glancing toward us. “But not anymore.”

  A small, strained smile began to play at his lips. “To tell you the truth, I think I’m already starting to feel better. At this rate, I might even be out sooner than the doctors expected.”

  Missy suddenly jumped up from her seat, startling the both of us. “Oh cut the act, will ya,” she blurted, whipping the mask off her face and crumbling it in her hands. To hell with the rules was the message her blue eyes shown when I stared at her in disbelief.

  “You’re talking to us now, Spencer. Only us. The least you can do is be honest.”

  She was right, I thought. Why are we wearing this crap? We knew the virus didn’t spread like that. I quickly followed suit, taking my mask off too, (I only wanted to do that all damn day) as I turned my attention back to Spencer. Just the act of doing that made a huge difference in how I felt.

  He peered up at us, his eyes widening a fraction, both in surprise and relief. “That is what I’m being. I mean it guys. I am not worried.” The oxygen plug that hung from his nostrils must have slipped when he had moved his head, because he was adjusting it now.

  “Ohmigod, you’re such a horrible liar.” Missy walked to the waste basket next to his cot, tossing her mask into it. She ripped her gloves off next, an indignant expression on her face. “There is absolutely no way you are okay. You just found out you have a virus that is killing people, killing them,” she emphasized. “I’m not even the one sick, and I’m terrified.” One by one the gloves dropped into the trash.

  Spencer rolled his eyes, very obviously. “I’m okay, Miss, because the doctors said I am going to be okay. The medications work. There isn’t any reason to be scared. Everyone else that has been diagnosed and treated is fine, even Buck. And you know how bad he was. It’s just gonna take some time.” I couldn’t ignore the frustrated tone creeping into his voice. “You know this, so just stop ‘kay.”

  I’m pretty certain it wasn’t the recovery rate that was aggravating him, but that Missy felt the need to point out all his insecurities. Because whether he said he was fine or not, as his other best friend, I could easily tell he was lying too.

  Missy has never been one for subtleties, or knowing when to just shut up for that matter.

  “I know, but what the hell do doctors know anyway?” she said, throwing her hands up animatedly. I inwardly cringed. Ah, here we go. “I mean, it’s not like this has ever happened before. And they haven’t seen what this shit does to people. We have. I have. And I’m freaking out. For you. For us. What if it isn’t cured? What if you turn into one of them anyway? What if you die? What if the mosquitos start spreading everywhere and we all get infected and die? What if—”

  “Miss, stop,” Spencer groaned, dropping his head back against the pillow. “Just stop! I get it, you’re worried. I appreciate it. But you’re being ridiculous. You already heard what the doctor said yesterday. The virus hasn’t spread, it’s not possible. The infected mosquitos couldn’t possibly survive this far from Pennsylvania. I’m only sick because I’ve been sick. My body’s just been fighting it, building up antibodies and stuff.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling sharply. He didn’t reopen his eyes. “I’m actually very lucky, if you ask me.”

  For a moment, I let that sink in. Once again, realizing how lucky he truly was. Yesterday the doctors told us that Spencer must have been exposed to the blood at some point, but only a small amount of it, miniscule enough that it didn’t break down his immune system only attacked it, enabling his body a chance to fight it. That’s why for the last several weeks his symptoms have continued but not really worsened. Spencer admitted to experiencing different symptoms, but since he wasn’t getting any sicker, he figured he was just overdoing it and wearing himself out. It wasn’t until the nosebleed that he realized—we all realized—he was infected.

  Duke’s constant whimpering only further proved that.

  Funny it’s only been a few days, but I already missed that dog. Of course, I missed Jason more. Right now he was back at the motel with the twins, and I had no clue when I was going to see him next.

  I was officially grounde
d again. With good reason.

  “But Spence,” Missy persisted, not letting up. Of course not. “I don’t think you really—”

  I reached over, grabbing her arm. It was time to intervene. “Missy, it’s okay to be scared,” I countered, my hand wrinkling the flimsy fabric of her gown. “But just because you’re scared doesn’t mean he is. If he says he feels better, than we should be happy, not arguing with him about it.”

  “Thank you,” sighed Spencer, in such a relieved way it had me shifting my gaze toward him. His eyes were open again, and for the second time I saw his fear shadowed in their bluish depth.

  I ignored it. “Let’s talk about something else, okay? Like maybe how the hell we are going to get out of being grounded. I am not spending my last summer before college working and hanging with my folks all day.”

  Coming up with a change of subject was easy, ignoring the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach as I continued to look at Spencer, not so much.

  2

  Something I said, and I’m not even sure what, had Spencer actually laughing. Had us all laughing, but at the sound of the hospital door reopening, we quickly sobered.

  Luckily, it was only Mr. Reign, Spencer’s dad.

  But he did not look happy.

  With us.

  “Girls—” he scolded, almost instantly, only further proving it. “What do you think you are doing?” He was adjusting the strings of his mask around his ears as he walked into the room.

  Though his face was half covered, I could still see the disappointing glare in his blue-gray eyes as he stared at both of us. “You can’t be in here like that. You know the protocol. If you can’t abide by the hospital rules, you can’t be in here with him.”

  Missy snorted beside me. “But Mr. Reign, come on. This is ridiculous.”

  He continued to the empty chair, opposite of us, on the other side of his son’s bed. “I don’t make the rules.”

  “But it makes him uncomfortable,” she argued.

  He looked sideways to Spencer, apologetically. “I don’t want to wear this anymore than you two. But if wearing this gets me to be here with my son, then I’m going to wear it.” He patted Spencer on his blanketed foot. “And if you want to be here for him, you’ll put everything back on too.”

  She didn’t say anything but crossed her arms defiantly. I stared down at the crumbled mask in my own hands, mentally sighing. I didn’t want to be kicked out of the room which meant I only had one choice. Slowly, very slowly, I unwrinkled the cloth, bringing the material to my nose and mouth. I could practically feel my face itching again.

  The second I secured the strings around my ears, Missy blew out a breath in defeat. “Well, I’d put mine on,” she grumbled, looking annoyed that I succumbed to the asinine request. “But I kind of threw it all in the trash.”

  “It’s okay,” Spencer cut in, picking at his IV again.

  “No, it isn’t,” his dad countered, sternly. “Melissa, go to the lobby desk and ask for another one right now. And don’t come back into this room without it. Do you understand me?”

  A lengthy exhale followed. “Sure, whatever.” She stood up, pushing the chair loudly across the white and gray tiled floor. “I guess I will be right back then.”

  Mr. Reign shook his head. “I’m not trying to be the bad guy here, you know that.”

  Missy flipped her blonde hair behind her shoulders and turned toward the door. “All I know is that this whole thing sucks, all of it.” And with that said, she left the room.

  An awkward silence immediately started to follow. Spencer’s dad sighed, and slowly slumped down into the chair, looking like he actually felt like the bad guy.

  He didn’t say anything.

  Minutes passed without a word from either of them.

  I sat there uncomfortably, tempted to crack my knuckles, but I paused halfway in the process. The chair cushion under my butt felt as cozy as sitting on a cheap bicycle seat. What I really wanted to do was stand up, just to stretch, but I didn’t really have a reason to without looking like a weirdo.

  So I just continued to sit, briefly glancing back and forth between the two of them, waiting for someone other than me to speak again, as if that wasn’t weird.

  The fluorescent light above our heads made it easy to see all the fine lines around Mr. Reign’s light eyes and on his forehead. The gray in his dark, unkempt hair stood out more too, aging him at least ten years. But still, I could see the resemblance between father and son. They might not have had the same hair color, but they shared the same square jaw and high forehead. Also, I knew from memory, that they both had that charming, crooked smile.

  One I wish I was staring at right now.

  Think of something funny then, damn it, I prompted myself.

  I came up with nothing.

  After a few more minutes of silence—damn it, where was Missy?—I decided to just try and think of anything to say, didn’t matter what, when the phone on the table next to Spencer started ringing.

  He stared at it, surprised. “Who else knows I’m in the hospital besides you guys?”

  And just like that the silence was broken.

  “Grandma Reyer does,” his dad answered, glancing at the clock on the wall next to a dry-erase board with doctor scribble on it. “But she’s usually playing cards right now.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Spencer turned his face toward me, opening his mouth like he wanted to tell me something, as if it was suddenly okay to speak again.

  “That doesn’t mean ignore the call,” his father said in disbelief. “That means it could be important, answer it.”

  Rolling his eyes, Spencer grudgingly stretched for the receiver, bringing it to his ear, grimacing. “Hello?”

  I couldn’t help but think maybe one of us should have gotten it for him. He seemed more in pain leaning that way. At the person’s response, his entire demeanor changed and I began to wonder if I had just imagined it.

  “Oh. Hey, man. How’s it going? Oh, me, don’t worry about it. I’m gonna be fine. Bored out of my mind though…and did I mention, the hospital food sucks?” A very faint laugh. “Guess they don’t want their patients to enjoy their visits.” He chuckled again, slightly coughing with it. “Yeah, she’s here. She never leaves. Guess hanging out in quarantine with me is better than being home grounded. Yup. Mouth is here too.” His lips twitched again. “That nickname still cracks me up. Anyway, here she is, hold up…” He held out the phone to me. “Dee, it’s for you. It’s Jason.”

  Perplexed, I took the phone from him. At first I didn’t know who it was, but now that I did, I had no clue why he would be calling.

  “Hey what’s up?” I said, ignoring the warning glares I was immediately getting from Mr. Reign. My mom made it perfectly clear I was not allowed to talk on the phone, especially to Jason. I figured I had a minute tops before Spencer’s dad was going to make me hang up. “Just so you know, I still can’t really talk.”

  “I know,” he replied, without a hello back. “Sorry. I just didn’t know how else to reach you.”

  My brow instantly furrowed at the sound of his voice. Jason obviously wasn’t calling just to say he missed me.

  “I’m going to head back to Pennsylvania…only for a couple days…” he continued hesitantly. “Just figured I’d give you a heads up in case you try to get ahold of me and can’t. You know how the reception can be out there.”

  “O-Okay,” I mumbled, repositioning the phone to my ear, even more confused now. That was the last thing I expected him to say. Ever.

  After the whole virus outbreak, and his parents’ death, all Jason wanted to do was leave there, so what would make him want to go back?

  Did he forget something at Meg and Germaine’s house? Something they couldn’t mail? It seemed unlikely. Perhaps he was just going to visit them...but so soon, really? He and the twins only moved a couple weeks ago.

  And last I heard Jacob wasn’t coming back from Spain for a while so he wasn’t visiting him either.
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  So really, what the hell?

  “Dee, you still there?” Jason asked, his voice echoing in my ear with a little static. “I know I’m kind of just springing this on you.”

  “Ah, yeah, yeah, you are.” Spencer shot me a look, curious no doubt, and I just shrugged, shifting my gaze to a scuff on the floor by my left sneaker. “I don’t understand.”

  “I know you don’t,” Jason replied, apologetically. “But trust me, if this weren’t an emergency, I wouldn’t be going.”

  Emergency?

  The moment the words left his lips, I could tell Jason immediately regretted them. He didn’t want to tell me that.

  I realized he never meant to tell me why at all.

  My heart started beating faster. What wasn’t he telling me?

  “Jason—” I began, with all intentions of asking.

  He cut me off. “Don’t.”

  “What?” His bluntness surprised me.

  “Don’t say anything else. Not with Spencer there anyway. I mean it.”

  That made me instantly tense.

  “Act like everything is fine. Do you hear me? If I tell you, you have to act like everything is fine.”

  A knot the size of a marble was forming in the back of my throat.

  “Because I don’t know anything yet,” he added, almost in a ramble. “And that is why I wasn’t going to say anything. I don’t want you to freak if it’s not related.”

  The knot was the size of golf ball now.

  And my heart, forget it. Thank God, I didn’t have one of those monitors hooked up to me otherwise the nurses might think I was going into cardiac arrest or something.

  I cleared my throat the best I could and just happened to nonchalantly glance up at Mr. Reign. He started instantly tapping his wrist. Point taken. My time was up. “I got to go,” I sighed, looking away again. “You have about ten seconds…” To tell me.

  Jason exhaled into the phone, creating another bout of static. “Okay, this isn’t easy for me to say. I just got off the phone with Kyle about fifteen minutes ago. Dee, Buck is dead.”