Plague Saint

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Hellfire

Marcus was faster than Winter. By the time she staggered into the church, he'd found the prep room. She made her way to the open door and stumbled in.

He was searching the wrong shelf. Tables and chairs were overturned behind him, and nearly every drawer was open.

"What the hell did you follow me here for?" Marcus pulled a box off the shelf and, when he didn't find what he was looking for, tossed it to the ground. "I was starting to think you were smart."

"I could say the same about you. I really thought you'd know what I'd done by this morning."

"You mean besides stealing the cure I made?" Marcus tried another box. He was getting closer to the right shelf.

"I'm also surprised you wouldn't save more cure for yourself."

"I'll admit I miscalculated in a few aspects. Is that what you wanted to hear?" Marcus threw aside the next box with far more force. The glasses inside shattered.

His desperation made it clear that he was sicker than Winter had dared to hope when she first saw him. "I took a fair amount to the hospital. You could try there, assuming word hasn't spread far enough for them to want to kill you."

Marcus whirled around. "You came here to taunt me? To watch me die?" Still, he couldn't stop his eyes from flickering to the door behind Winter. He had to be seriously considering the hospital. "This is beyond saving lives, Winter. Wanting to kill me?"

"As long as you live, you're a threat to Devil's Pass."

"If you were really as good and noble as you thought, would you be so eager to see me die in front of you?" Marcus gestured toward her with his dagger.

"You really don't have time for this," Winter told him. "Are you going to fight me for the cure here and hope you find it before you're weak enough for me to kill you, or will you give the hospital a try?"

"Giving you more time to put a stop to my carefully laid out plans?" Marcus chuckled weakly. "For an idiot, you have gotten pretty lucky."

Just end this now. Winter raised her sword and flew at Marcus.

He ducked and shot past her. Within moments he was out the door. Gone.

"Not even going to fight me?" Winter yelled. No response. Her ragged breathing was the only sound in the room. She'd worked hard to mask any signs of weakness, but now she had to admit her body was beginning to fail her. Damn it, she didn't have time for this.

She grabbed a box to her right and pushed it to the floor. More glass shattered. Winter stalked to the next shelf and grabbed the box hiding the cure. She threw that to the ground too. Then she shoved the cure in her bag. Her fingers grazed another bottle, the bottle of cure she'd set aside for herself.

Winter didn't want to believe she was getting sick, but it would be stupid not to take precautions. She should have taken the cure before leaving the factory. Her trembling fingers removed the cap and she chugged the clear liquid inside.

Ugh. The taste wasn't the worst thing she'd had, but it burned her throat and made her eyes water. Winter wiped her mouth with her arm, tossed the empty bottle to the floor, and left the prep room.

Now to reunite with River and Phoebe and end this.

Winter casually swung the sword as she walked the hall. When her hands tired of that, she slashed at the walls.

Time to end this.

Doors to the chapel approached on her left.

End this.