“Fine.” Galen held up his hands in supplication. “We’re doing it, but smartly.”
“What’s the plan?” I asked in a clipped tone. Every second we waited, the more Wesley suffered. I couldn’t stand it.
“You’re going to open the gate and then use your magic to clear a path to the storage building. You are not going inside.”
“Come up with a different plan.”
“No,” he growled. “I love you, but you’re not athletic. You are good with magic. You’ll keep the zombies away from me. I’ll get Wesley out and carry him back here. You’ll drop your magic and let us out.”
We didn’t have time to argue so I nodded. “Be careful,” I ordered.
I used my magic to unlock the gate. Galen, perched at the threshold, glanced over his shoulder at me. “Ready?”
“I’m ready.” I sucked in a breath, called to my magic, and was primed when he threw open the gate.
I tossed out a wave of magic and scattered the zombies backward, creating a clear path.
I sent a silent “I’m sorry” to my mother. She’d been blown back with the rest of them. My attention was on Galen as he raced to the building.
I was getting better at controlling my magic, but I was hardly an expert. Still, I maintained the path, throwing the zombies back twice more when Galen disappeared inside the building and then reappeared with Wesley over his shoulder.
I couldn’t see my grandfather’s face, but I saw his hand moving.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother was again on her feet. She was heading toward Galen and Wesley, as though singularly focused on her father.
I focused on keeping the pathway clear for Galen. He ran fast, his footing sure. I forced my mother back one more time before he burst through the gate to safety.
He dropped Wesley on the ground with little ceremony, ignoring my grandfather’s complaints, and pushed the gate closed. I locked it with my magic, and a split-second later a wave of zombies slammed into the gate from the other side.
Out of breath, Galen leaned over and rested his hands on his knees. “Well, that was fun,” he said.
“Fun,” Wesley sputtered. He was pale and looked frailer than I’d ever seen him, but he was alive … and angry. “How was that fun?”
I dropped to my knees and stared into his eyes. “I’ve never been so happy to hear somebody complaining in my entire life.” I threw my arms around him.
Resigned, maybe even a little confused, he patted my back. “I’m happy to see you too.”
16
SIXTEEN
We took Wesley to the hospital.
“I don’t want to go to the hospital.” He sat in the backseat of Galen’s truck, arms crossed, and glared at the neon lights that lit the way to Moonstone Bay’s only hospital.
Galen had left us outside the cemetery long enough to retrieve his truck. Despite his bluster, it was obvious Wesley couldn’t walk the few blocks to the hospital.
I refrained from asking the obvious questions until he’d been admitted to the hospital. He had an IV bag attached — something about electrolytes — and the nurse had drawn blood to run tests. Wesley had fought the whole process.
While we were waiting, I decided to distract him.
“Did you miss me?”
Wesley’s eyes moved from the door, where he was waiting for the doctor to appear, to me. “Should I have?”
I tried to keep my face impassive. “I think I’m miss-able.”
“Well, if you think so … .” Wesley rolled his eyes to the ceiling.
