The Dead Won't Die Read Free Page A

of device that clicked and beeped as she passed it over his body. She circled around him, moving the device over his chest and his arms and his legs. Sometimes, when she moved, the harsh glare of the overhead lights flooded into Jacob’s eyes and blinded him. Everything hurt. He turned his head and saw a bank of monitors and medical equipment, a lot of fluctuating numbers and rhythmic beeps.
    â€œBree, my chest hurts.”
    â€œWho’s Bree?” the girl said, putting down the device she’d been checking him with.
    Jacob blinked at her.
    After a moment his vision cleared enough that he could see the girl standing over him wasn’t Bree Carlton.
    She wasn’t even blond.
    Jacob couldn’t quite marshal his thoughts. He felt utterly lost and confused, unable, even, to separate the physical pain in his chest from the ceaseless roar of white noise sounding in his ears. But he did remember Bree, so pretty and smart. So young. The girl every able-bodied man back in Arbella fantasized about having.
    And yet, now, as he struggled to bring his thoughts into focus, all he could think of was the cruelty that had marked her final minutes back in the Slaver caravan run by Casey and his mother, Jane. Bree had been beaten and raped. She’d been driven mad with pain and shame. And in the end, she’d chosen to die in a hail of bullets rather than suffer another night of depravation. Had he been in her shoes, he only hoped he would have had enough backbone to die as she died.
    â€œWho’s Bree?” the pretty girl said again. “You’ve said her name just about every time you’ve woken up.”
    â€œJust a friend,” he said, his voice a whisper.
    â€œMy name is Megan,” the girl said. “I’m a nurse. I’ve been taking care of you these last few weeks.”
    â€œWeeks?”
    â€œYes,” she said. “Almost a month now, actually. You were hurt pretty badly. Two broken ribs—that’s the pain in your chest, by the way—a broken left arm, two broken fingers, and a pretty serious staph infection. Also, does your left knee still hurt?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYour left knee. You were shot in the leg.” Her brow furrowed a little, accentuating the little upturn at the tip of her nose. “You didn’t know that?”
    â€œNo,” Jacob said. He groaned and tried to roll over.
    â€œEasy,” Megan said. “Don’t move too fast. I imagine you have a pretty bad headache.”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œThat’s the fever and the infected wounds. You’re lucky Dr. Brooks found you when he did. Too much longer and the infection would have killed you. As it is, we’ll have you up and running in no time.”
    Jacob collapsed back on the bed, realizing for the first time that his hair was wet with sweat.
    â€œReally,” said Megan. “You’re safe now. We can fix all this.”
    â€œWhere am I?” he said.
    â€œYou’re in Temple,” she said. “In a hospital. Do you know about Temple?”
    Jacob groaned again. “That’s where Chelsea’s from. It’s Galveston on my maps.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Megan said. “Do you remember your friends you were with?”
    â€œKelly Banis and Chelsea Walker. Where are they?”
    â€œWell, Chelsea, I don’t know about. But Kelly Banis has been in here to see you almost every day for the past few weeks.”
    â€œWhere is she?”
    â€œI don’t know. She’ll probably be back sometime this afternoon. She usually comes in after lunch.”
    Another wave of pain hit him, and Jacob closed his eyes and braced against it.
    â€œStill hurting?” Megan said.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œI’ll up the painkillers. But you should expect more of that over the next week. After that, we should have you pretty much patched up.”
    Jacob nodded toward the device she’d been using on him.