The Hollow Men (Book 1): Crave Read Online Free Page B

only one contemplating the worst. Despite her own fear, she reassured him with carefully deliberate exasperation in her voice, implying that Tom worried needlessly.
    “Tom, there are a lot of sicknesses in the world. You flew through Cambodia, not Thailand, and since I haven’t heard of it, it can’t be a world-ending plague that’s already reached our doorstep. Plus, if it’s bad as you say, I doubt you’d still be standing no matter how invincible your immune system seems to be.”
    And then she frantically researched everything known about the Thapp virus as she held vigil at Katie’s side. In spite of its rapid spread, it did seem too early for it to have found her daughter.
    Tom spelled Ridley while she ate some food and took a shower. Katie’s breathing became so weak that Tom had a difficult time detecting it. After each exhalation, her body paused for a few heart-stopping seconds. At each of these moments Katie fought for her life. Virus winning: breath halted, her head lolled, and her eyes rolled into the back of her skull. Katie winning: a tiny shudder, and she took in shallow sips of air.
    Ridley spent the night sitting on the floor beside Katie’s bed, her head resting close to Katie’s torso, monitoring each rise and fall of her chest. She picked at the cuticles on her fingers until they bled while she watched for telltale seizures that indicated the onset of the Thapp virus.
    Her rational mind reasoned that the chances of her daughter having that specific virus were a hundred-million to one. Her lips moved in a prayer-like chant, trying to convince herself there was no way her daughter contracted Thapp. After three in the morning, she stopped, knowing those extreme improbabilities were no consolation to the unfortunate hundred-millionth person.
    Tom checked on Katie throughout the night. An exhausted Ridley whispered reassurances to him in exchanges that had the tone of a heated argument rather than soothing confidence. She told him wearily to get over himself, that he couldn’t be the cause of every bad thing in the world.
    By morning, Katie’s fever had eased and her skin was less pale. Cautiously optimistic, the family discussed what to do about the game. Chase was torn, concerned about his sister but excited about playing in the championship. He felt guilty for wanting to go.
    Ridley had supported Chase’s love of football from his very first little league practice at the age of four—his thigh pads had been the same length as her hand. Now, she put her arms around her tall son and told him she would be with Katie every second, and everything would work out fine whether Chase stayed home or not.
    As if choreographed to help him accept the decision, Katie chose that moment to get up. They heard her fumbling steps to her bedroom door. They waited to see if she’d come downstairs to see them off and instead heard her say something hoarsely which sounded something like, “Good luck, big brother”, before she returned to bed.
    It made them all feel better to know she’d gotten up without help and had the strength to speak.
    One of Chase’s friends pulled up to drive him to the bus that would carry the team to the Dome. Even from the driveway, the harsh sound of Metallica’s “Master of Puppets” rang in Ridley’s ears. She hugged her son and said, “Good luck! Katie and I will be watching you on TV. You’ll be great!” and pushed him out the door.
    After Chase left, Tom had little choice other than to go. He threw a few snacks and some fan gear into his Escalade and went to say goodbye to Katie. She looked better, if still pale and weak, and slowly sipped some chicken broth while her dad sat at her bedside. “Get some rest,” he whispered, and kissed her on the forehead. He hesitated at the door, his forehead creased in worry and his lips puckered. He shook his head and pivoted to head downstairs and out the door.
    Ridley gave him a cheerful goodbye, radiating confidence and promising