Page 155 of Blood Lovers

But anyway. The real reason I don’t kick Ryet into the ditch and drive away is because I’m not sure he would die. I’m not sure he hasn’t passed that point of no return. In other words, I’m afraid he’ll come hunt me down. And he could do it now. Easily, I think. And I would have nowhere to run. I would have no one to protect me.

So I don’t kick him out. I just let him drink the bag of blood and pull back onto the road, thinking about heading south.

I eat junk food from gas stations and fill up the tank using a credit card that I find in the glove box, a business Platinum American Express card made out of some kind of metal with a corporation’s name on the bottom that I can’t pronounce because it’s just a collection of letters that aren’t a word. XILMX.

Zilamax? Who knows. Don’t care.

I know every transaction is traceable, but I don’t care about that either. There is no way we don’t get caught. No way at all. Right now I’m counting on the slim chance that Ryet will stabilize and… I don’t know. Save me, I guess. Put it all right.

It’s dumb. I’m his food.

I use the bathroom at the gas stations too and clean up a little. I do what I can to make myself feel normal in the five minutes I give myself to leave Ryet alone in the truck.

We ran out of blood bags a couple days ago so now, every few hours, I have to pull over somewhere and let him feed on me. And every time I do this, I hate him a little bit more.

But even if I could’ve kicked him out and left him behind back in the mountains, I know for sure I can’t do it now.

He’s changing. Right in front of me.

He goes long stretches of hours making no sound at all. And then he’ll start whimpering, then growling, and that’s how I know to stop.

I don’t want him to wake up. I will do anything to not see those eyes again. So I feed him until he’s full, and quiet, and I can talk myself into thinking I’m safe, and then I just keep driving. Going nowhere in particular. Just… driving.

On day eight I break down and buy a phone and data plan with the credit card. Then I book us an Airbnb for a night because I need a shower and a place to put Ryet while I shop for new clothes because this is all so gross, I’m starting to reconsider Lucia’s plan to kill myself so I can kill him too, and I’m still not sure I could do it.

That’s not even true. I know I can’t do it. Because I’m a fucking coward and I want to live. I settle for the new clothes and a shower.

We stay just the one night.

Then I help Ryet stagger his way into the truck, and I just… keep… driving.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE – RYET

Heaven. For Now.

I wake up latched on to Syrsee’s neck, sucking down her blood like it’s a fucking milkshake. But then, suddenly, I’m full. I push off her and sit up in my seat, looking around, confused. And very angry, for some reason. “Where the fuck are we?”

Syrsee puts the truck in drive and pulls back onto the highway. “I dunno. Arizona, I think. But I haven’t been paying attention to the signs for a while now, so who the hell knows.”

She’s angry too.

I look at her for a moment, staring at her. She’s wearing a black tank top and her hair is blowing around her face from the AC blasting out of the vents. She doesn’t look at me. She just keeps driving.

Fuck it. I turn away and stare out the window. Red mountains and plateaus in the distance and dirt in every direction. I close my eyes and let out a long breath as the hot desert sun beats down on my face.

It feels good.

Suddenly, Syrsee slams on the brakes so hard, I go flying forward, apparently not wearing a seatbelt. The only reason I don’t go right through the windshield is because I brace both hands on the dash.

When we come to a jerking stop, I turn my head slowly to look at her, then growl, in a very nasty voice, “What the fuck, Syrsee?”

She doesn’t look at me. Just throws the truck in reverse and starts backing up at high speed.

I look behind us, panicked that we’re going to slam into an oncoming car, but there’s no one there. The entire highway is deserted.

She brakes again. And again, I’m jerked around. I’m just about to yell at her when she flings her door open, gets out of the truck, and walks over to the right shoulder to stare up at a sign.

I squint my eyes, trying to read the sign. But there’s a glare on it from the sun. So I get out and walk over to her. She’s breathing hard, like she’s about to blow up or something.