Injected ((RLLY FUCKIN OLD))

Chapter Ten (Ky)

There is literally four sentences that can explain this situation right now:

I.  Am.  So.  Fucking.  Confused.

Okay, maybe that was five... But that really doesn't matter at the moment.

"Why is their previous victim following me on Instagram?!"  I shout a little.  Jacob shushes me.  I've noticed that he's kind of been acting bossy today.  With his 'tell me what you said to your own mom' and 'don't ever share your location on Instagram.'  I mean, I kind of get it but... Really?

"Well..." He answers, in slight panic, "she did get Injected and you are probably next on their list.  They kind of want to know where you're going."

"Should I block her?"  I ask.

"WELL OBVIOUSLY!"

The girl from yesterday glances at us, pulling her index finger to her lips.

"We should probably get going..."  Jacob says. 

I nod in agreement.

He turns off his phone screen, and I notice that he still hasn't requested to follow me on Instagram.  I probably just shouldn't ask.

I open the car door to the passenger's seat.  After making myself comfortable, I lean my head against the window.  The glass heats up, burning my forehead slightly.  I honestly don't mind it.  The warmth feels pretty good.

***

"Do you even know where we're going?" I ask.  It's been at least a two-hour drive.

"Yes and we're almost there," Jacob answers.

"Already?"

"I've decided that maybe we should start driving tomorrow, you know, to take a day off today.  Sound good to you?"

"It sounds better, actually," I answer.  It would be nice to take a break.  Maybe get a few more questions out of him.  Maybe to get to know him more.  Both would be suggested.

"That's great..."

I pause for a moment to take a deep breath, "so," I begin, wanting to start a normal conversation of any sort, "have you ever been to California before?"

"No, actually..." I'm surprised to hear that his answer sounds slightly friendly.  "This is my first time."

Okay.  Fine.  Maybe he wants to give me answers like he's a celebrity and make statements that could not drag any conversation of some sort.  I'll try to fix that. 

"That's cool," I say. "Do you come from Virginia then?"

"Shockingly, no.  I spent half of my childhood in Nevada."

His other half was probably focused on the Injected...

"So you weren't born there?"

"Nope.  I was born in Oregon.  Lived in Arizona after that."

"So you've spent a large segment of your life living around, like, the only state that I've been in and you haven't even set foot in California?"  I ask.

"Nope.  I think it's pretty crazy myself," he scratches the back of his neck and it kind of reminds me about the scab the the vaccine shot gave us.  It probably has nothing to do with them, though.  They are afraid of him after all...