Mischa's body trembled like a seismic aftershock as she and Quinton tried to carry her father to safety. If they could move just a little faster, they could catch up with the group and outrun the attackers, but her leg muscles suffered from the added weight of another person.
"I can walk just fine," her father said.
"It's okay, Mr. Hues," Quinton said. "Just hang onto my shoulder until we get to those rocks. Mischa, I've got him."
Her father slid his arm off her shoulder and gave her hand a little squeeze. "It's going to be fine."
Mischa bit her lip and nodded, trying to ignore the scratches on his face and arms as well as his blood-soaked pant legs. They hadn't gotten to him before one of the attackers had knocked him down. Two others had been lumbering over to join him when Quinton took a swing at the first attacker's skull with a metal landing gear. Vita had scared off the other two with her scavenging knife.
Failing to soothe herself with her father's words, Mischa made it to the rocks with a hammering heart. Her father took laboured breaths once he sat down on the rocks. Mischa dug through her bag for a bottle of water for him. In the chaos of the rescue, they'd had to abandon his bag.
"I can't," Nate said. "You'll need this for the rest of the hike."
"We'll find other water, please." Her sweaty extended hand shook, making the bottle hard to hold on to. With a sigh, her father accepted the bottle and took a short drink.
Quinton and Vita stood close and whispered back and forth. The way their eyes kept scanning her father's body made Mischa's body tense. People had gone missing in the past weeks at Nouveau Depart, although everyone denied it, rumors circulated that the sick were being exiled or worse. She just got her dad back from Vegas. There was no way she would lose him again.
Vita rocked back and forth on her toes and stepped closer to Nate. "Mr. Hues, I know this is an awkward question, but did you get bit anywhere?"
"Vita!" Mischa exclaimed. "That's hardly important."
Quinton placed a hand on Mischa's shoulder, and a tear slipped down her cheek.
"It's a fair question, dear." Her father set down the water and lifted up his right pant leg, the bloodier of the two. A large red wound oozed semi-viscous fluid--alongside half a dozen other teeth imprints whose edges were crusted in blood--stood out on his pale skin.
Mischa's wobbly hand couldn't stay stable enough to cover her gaping mouth. More tears tumbled and Quinton's warm hand left her shoulder. He dug through his bag for an extra shirt and a bottle of water to douse her father's wound.
Vita's eyes combed the horizon. "I have a proposition for you all."
Mischa's eyes widened. "Can it wait?"
"No. You know what will happen if we bring your father back to Mr. M and the others. The same crap they pulled when that little girl vanished."
Vita's eyes shot farther down the dry creek. The Nouveau Depart group made more and more progress, but none had stopped to check on or wait for them.
"They're going east. We could go west."
Mischa's father let out a deep breath. "Back to the warehouse."
"Farther west. Vegas west."
"Absolutely not!" Mischa said, placing her hands on her hips. "It took them weeks to get there, and you expect my dad to be able to take a stupid bike like this?"
"Hear me out." Vita turned to Quinton and Nate. "You said they have technology, they do research, and they have medical facilities. We have no idea what happens after someone is bitten. They could be fine or it could get really ugly. I don't want to take the risk of hiding out in a building together to be bitten or worse, no offence Mr. Hues. That place in Vegas might be able to help him."
