Sweat
Part 2

Author's Note: And here we are at part two. I won't take too much of your time, just wanted to thank KJay99, Introextrovert, and I Wear the Crown for the reviews, and for everyone who stopped by for a read. I'm glad that I've caught your interest, and I hope I continue to do so. This is a bit of a shorter chapter, but still important to the story. Please, let me know what you thought. Comments, concerns, what you liked, what needed improving. I appreciate every bit of insight and critique that I can get!

(Start)

The highway seemed to stretch on and on. To either side of her was desolation. It had always been that way: a red barren land, dusty, dried and cracked. But now the sight of the dessert road seemed more of a pointed image; a proper description of the world, and her heart.

The trip to Univille took longer now than it did in the good days. But Claudia knew it was because H.G drove there slowly. Her fellow British agent always said it was to be cautious, because one could never be certain of who was driving recklessly these days. But Claudia knew better. Dessert roads were never busy places, especially in little nowhere places like their corner of South Dakota. And after the outbreak it was even truer. The highway was always empty. The only scenery they saw between town and the Warehouse was a white minivan that had broken down on the side of the road three months ago. And they had already passed that. No, Claudia knew that H.G drove slowly because she was in no rush to get to Univille. Claudia was not inclined to argue.

Huddled in the front passenger seat, the young girl leaned her head against the door frame, enjoying the breeze from the open window that helped to cool her head. It would be another 15 minutes before they got to Univille at least, so she closed her eyes and tried to get some rest. Sleeping was always difficult and she rarely got much of it. But car rides always seemed to ease her coughing, so she took the opportunity every chance she could.

Claudia hated this: always being sick. She hated always being hot and too sweaty. She hated that her muscles always ached and her bones always creaked. She hated that she could almost never stop coughing, and that it was so damn hard to ever get a full breath. She hated always being tired and as weak as a wet noodle. She hated the loneliness. Most of all, she hated the black pit of grief that was continually rotting in her chest. She would completely hate life if it weren't for H.G being there, always keeping her moving forward. H.G was her partner, her caretaker, her light in the dark and only source of hope. She didn't know how H.G managed to keep it all together, but she was grateful beyond words that she did.

As much as she tried not to think about the past, she could never shake the memories. They were there every resting and waking moment, following her, torturing her. As she closed her eyes one came trotting forward even now, unwanted and painful.

She remembered getting out of bed that morning. She wasn't sick then – at least not physically sick – just tired and constantly worried. She remembered noting how silent the house was before she even took her shower. From the moment she had opened her eyes, something felt … off. She snacked on crackers while drying off from the shower and getting dressed. She had too much to do and would worry about breakfast (or lunch) later. Her friends needed her. As she stepped out of her room and into the hallway of the Bed & Breakfast, she could hear the sound of someone coughing. Someone was always coughing. But judging from the gruffness, she guessed it was Artie.

It was a miracle that they were able to get Artie to a hospital quick enough to patch up the dagger wound. It seemed like taking that stab pulled Artie's mind back together and everyone was beyond relieved about that. But upon returning home he quickly got sick. Everyone got sick. The entire world got sick. But Artie seemed to be fairing especially bad. Even before the outbreak he always seemed to be catching colds. And it had been two days now since he had gotten out of bed. Claudia was worried about him. But then, she was worried about everyone, constantly.

Claudia remembered thinking that she wanted to check on Artie first, but that she would need H.G's help. Even sick, the old bear was still a two-man (or in this case, a two-woman) job. So she headed down the hall to Myka's room.

Claudia thought then as she thinks now that it was a bitter-sweet affair with Myka and H.G. It wasn't until the world has turned upside down and slid into chaos that the two finally realized their feelings for one another. And even though H.G helped out with everyone, she stayed with Myka. Claudia was the only one who even knew that they had romantic feelings for each other. H.G only ever talked about it with her, and not very often at that. Myka – as far as Claudia knew – didn't talk about it at all. Everyone else just assumed that they shared the room to save space, which made perfect sense. With Artie being sick, he stayed at the B&B so that he could be better looked after, instead of alone in his quarters at the Warehouse. That took up the remaining spare room they had. When Joshua (the pain of thinking about her big brother was almost too much to deal with) flew in to South Dakota to make sure Claudia was okay, they shared a room. So while the lack of space was a true enough reason to share Myka's room, Claudia knew it was because H.G wanted to spend every possible moment with Myka.

It was cramped but they were trying their best to make it work. Today, like any other day, there was plenty of work to be done. So she was a little surprised to see Myka's door slightly ajar. And the quiet of the house suddenly closed in around her. Claudia remembered a distinct feeling of dread setting in the pit of her stomach as she stared at the oak-brown door. But she steeled her nerves and pushed past what surely must have been some irrational and unnameable fear.

She stepped forward and pushed open the door.

"Hey H.G, are you …," she paused, "... awake?" Then quickly, all too quickly, it her. The room was chilled and quiet, with a thin layer of dust setting on the window sill. Myka was lying in bed on her back. H.G sat in bed on her knees, her hair in a ponytail to keep most of it out of her eyes. In both of the Englishwoman's hands was one of Myka's hands. And Myka was still, her eyes closed. She looked like she was sleeping. H.G was just as still, not a single muscle moving. The morning sun was beginning to come through the window across from the bed. The golden light reflected off Helena's face, making the tears streaming down her cheeks and chin sparkle like crystals.

Claudia was frozen, unmoving for a long time. H.G did not move for longer.

(To Be Continued ...)