Duality (The Hitchhiker Strain) by Kellie Sheridan Read Free Book Online

the same.
    We come close to a dozen other towns and even a few small cities as we drive but don’t bother stopping to search for supplies. We’re still in the heart of United Militia territory and there’s probably nothing left that they haven’t picked over. The wealth of America is now canned goods and an abundance of guns, and even those won’t last forever.
    “ Are we there yet?” I joke.
    “ Yup.” Dooley surprises me with his answer. It still looks like we’re in the middle of nowhere. “Five minutes out from our first stop, anyway. There’s a veterinary hospital near here that we’re supposed to check for antibiotics and a few other things.”
    Eduardo adds, “ We’ll grab those then get back on the road for another couple hours before dark. We might need to switch cars, depending on what the gas situation looks like, but there’s nothing to worry about. Everyone gets a good night’s sleep at whatever house looks easily defensible. Then first thing tomorrow morning, we’re in Kearney.”
    “ Sounds good,” I say. “Tell me what you need me to do and consider it done.”
     

Chapter 7 - Chelsea
     
    Somehow, I wake up. I really didn’t expect to.
    The fuzzy way my thoughts are moving through my mind tells me I must have been hit with a tranquilizer rather than a bullet —but the idea seems absurd.
    When I begin taking in my surroundings, things make even l ess sense. I’m in the back of a van, my face turned up to the metallic ceiling. I shift slightly and catch sight of another unconscious body beside mine. Dead or alive, I can’t tell. Smells deadish, but that doesn’t mean much anymore.
    My hands and feet are bound and my head is so foggy that I barely know who I am, but I’m alive. I can feel my pulse everywhere as my body struggles to stay conscious. Everything hurts. My lungs, my skin, my arm especially—everything.
    Even if the sad-looking boy didn ’t put a bullet through my brain, I’m not sure I’ll survive much longer. The beast is lurking in the back of my mind, prodding me to get away from our captors. If nothing else, we should be allowed to die on our own terms.
    I use my limited energy to strain against t he ropes that bind me, but either my captor is smarter than I gave him credit for or I’m even weaker than I thought. I grunt in frustration as the rough fibers dig into my skin, drawing the attention of whoever is sitting in the passenger’s seat—not the boy, but a woman who watches me with cold, clinical eyes. Without saying a word, she reaches back, awkwardly hanging over the side of her seat, and injects something into my neck. I try and snap my teeth, but there’s a gag sitting snugly in my mouth.
    Too qui ckly, I feel my body dropping away all over again.
     
     
    I ’m jolted awake again when the sliding van door opens, letting daylight stream directly into my eyes. A man I don’t recognize steps into my field of vision, blocking most of the light, but my eyes are still burning and I can’t make him out. He’s joined by another.
    This time, two sets of hands lift me into the air. One by the feet and another from under my arms. Everything I am struggles against their grip, but they never falter. Out of the co rner of my vision, I can see the sad-eyed boy stepping out of his car. He looks up and sees me right as I’m carried into an elevator. The thought of working electricity is enough to clear all other thoughts from my mind. I didn’t expect to ever feel the now unfamiliar hum of electricity again.
    More than anything, I want to put the pieces together and figure out what ’s happening to me, but nothing here makes sense. Nothing. This is a lot of trouble to go through to kill someone. Too much. It’s a kill-or-be-killed world now, and there’s no time for anything but survival.
    No risks. No compassion. No hatred. No fear.
    Who would take the time to plan something like this—capturing the infected, binding them, transporting them. Why?
    I should be