Apocalypsis 03 - Exodus by Elle Casey Read Free Book Online Page B

turning to come back, so I pushed off the tree and high-tailed it out of there. I forgot all about trying to be sneaky and quiet in the swamp. I didn’t sound like just one elephant, I sounded like ten of them, but I made it back in record time. As soon as I was in the hut, I yanked my moccasins off and threw them on the ground, dropping down onto the mattress and slapping my eyes shut. I tried to even-out my breathing and snore a little bit to be more convincing. It took several minutes for me to be able to calm my racing heart down, and by then Peter had reappeared.
    “That’s a fake snore,” he said from the other room.
    “Is not,” I said, keeping my eyes closed. “People are trying to sleep over here. Do you mind keeping the noise down?”
    “Next time I leave, I’m taking your shoes with me.”
    I reached my arm out blindly and pulled my moccasins into my side. “You’ll have to fight me for them.”
    Peter said nothing else and my mind raced. Should I say something? Should I ask him who that was? What were they arguing about? Is Peter sad or mad? I had a hundred questions, but I didn’t ask him any of them because I felt a little bit guilty about spying on him. I wasn’t sure if he knew what I had seen, but I decided it was better to wait and see what he said before I pushed him anymore. Peter was my friend and I didn’t want to blow it. Until now, I’d just kind of taken his companionship for granted; but now I was thinking that I could possibly do something stupid and ruin it for us. And I really, really didn’t want to do that.
    My mind spun with the possibilities of what I might have seen, but all it did was make me more tired. Eventually the humidity and the mind-dizzying speculation won out, and I feel into a deep afternoon sleep, still gripping my boots to me tightly. My last sensation was that of Peter coming over and dropping down onto the mattress beside me, jiggling my prone form in the process.
    ***
    Peter was very subdued at dinner. He refused to look at anything but Buster or his food. I tried to crack some jokes but they weren’t working.
    “What do you call a fake noodle?”
    Peter sighed. “I don’t know. What?”
    “An impasta.” I nudged him. “Get it? An impasta? That’s funny, right?”
    “Sure.” His response was without emotion of any kind.
    “Okay, how about this one: What happens when it rains cats and dogs?”
    “Can this be over now?”
    “No. Just answer me. What happens?”
    “I don’t know. You get wet with dogs? And cats?”
    I shoved him again. “No, silly. You step in poodles! Get it? Poodles?” I grabbed him and hugged him close. “Come on, Peter, that shit is funny. You know it is.”
    Buster got all excited over the hugging and started jumping up and down, trying to lick our faces.
    “Go away, poodle!” I said, laughing at my own little private joke. “Raining Busters! It was raining gang busters and now there are all these poodles all over the place! Ha! That’s funny!”
    Peter shook his head at me. “You’ve totally lost it, haven’t you?” He stood up to leave, still shaking his head, not even a ghost of a smile on his face.
    I just kept on grinning. “Be careful, Peter. There are poodles everywhere. Don’t step in one. Or on one.” I fell back laughing at that one. Buster took advantage of the situation and lick-attacked me, and I was too weak to fight him off. “Buster, quit, you mangey mutt. Ew, God, your breath is heinous. Get away.” I shoved him off me and tried to get up, but Buster had me down and he knew it. My one good arm was no use against his devious plan to bathe me in saliva until I vomited from the stench and disgustingness of it.
    Paci took mercy on me and stepped in. “Come here, you little turd. Leave that poor girl alone.” He grabbed Buster and picked him up, smart enough to keep him away from his face. He held out a hand to me. “Here. Let me help you up. You’re too vulnerable lying on the ground like