We had only made it another hour before there was banging on the back window.
"Stop," John said, annoyed that Grant had kept driving even though there was no way he didn't hear the banging.
The brakes squealed as we stopped. John got out and I followed, not wanting him to face this alone. I had snuck my Beretta to the training class, knowing I'd have to hand over any guns they would give me.
Cassandra was apparently going into convulsions in the bed of the truck. Colt was standing up beside her, his hands interlaced on the top of his head as he freaked out.
"Oh my god, oh my god," he repeated over and over again.
"Get out of there!" John commanded.
Colt looked over at John, the words not sinking in.
"Somebody help her!" Colt screamed as she started to flail even harder.
I could hear the sound of a bone cracking as Cassandra lurched into the side of the bed. This is why you normally had to move everything out of the way of seizing people.
"Colt, get out of there," I hissed.
I planted a foot on the tailgate only to have John yank me back.
"Like hell you're goin' back there," John said angrily.
"The stupid idiot isn't getting out," I pointed to the shocked brother.
John went to the side and made a grab at Colt, "You need to get out of there now!"
Colt jerked away from John's hand. Cassandra stopped convulsing, settling into an eerie calm. Colt let out a few choppy breaths and leaned down to her.
"Cass," he laid a hand on her forehead.
"Don't touch her!" I commanded as I peered into the bed.
Cassandra's left arm was at an odd angle, the shoulder way out of its socket. She appeared to be still except for the rapid movement behind her eyelids.
"Son, you need to-," John's words were cut off as Cassandra reared up.
Her teeth sunk into the side of Colt's face and his scream pierced the air like a siren. Grant jumped out of the truck, his handgun squeezed in his meaty fist. He didn't say anything as he shoved John out of the way.
Cassandra's corpse continued to grope at Colt and he screamed, too shocked to move away. He was using one hand to push her away and the other was clasped to the side of his face that was now bleeding profusely. Red squirted from between his fingers and ran down his arm like a leak in an aquarium.
Grant aimed and shot Cassandra through the side of the head, her body flopping to the side. Colt stopped screaming, but remained in place staring at his fallen sister. When Grant raised his gun again, John grabbed his arm.
"Hey, hey, hey," John said, fighting against Grant. "You can't just shoot him, he's still alive!"
Grant shoved John off, "Not for long he ain't. He'll turn just like the girl."
"How do you know that for sure?" John said, placing himself between Colt and Grant.
"'Cause everyone whose attacked by those things, turns."
John's eyes flashed to mine and I shook my head, praying that John wouldn't tell the Sergeant about my scratches. After what happened last time, I wouldn't be volunteering that information.
"You a scientist now?" John said back to Grant, his anger rising.
Grant's jaw popped out. Like a snake, Grant shot forward and grabbed John by his collar throwing him to the ground. He lifted his handgun quickly and shot the grieving brother in cold blood. Colt's body fell forward, landing on top of his sister's.
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