Apocalipstick (Hell in a Handbag Book 1) by Lisa Acerbo (best motivational books for students .TXT) 📕

for twenty people. They must have already decided we were evil or dead, or both.”

“They believed they were helping.”

“I doubt it.” His fist tapped his thigh. “Everyone worked in panic mode. Act first, think later. At the camps, we learned about Stephen’s Flu, named for patient zero.

Jenna nodded. “Everything happened so fast.”

“After the virus started mutating, they shortened the name to S1, S2, S3. The government got to S11 before the whole thing imploded and Streakers arrived.”

“What happened to the people you were with?”

“I was separated from my friends. It’s worse when you’re alone. I’m sure you relate. The round-up was supposedly for our safety, and they said we could leave, but it was a lie. We were prisoners, but my family had all died, and I had no one else and didn’t have an option.”

She stopped packing, placing a hand on his arm. “What happened in the camp?”

She’d never asked about his story. She was a shit.

“They moved me to a laboratory in a military base where scientists worked to find a cure. Everyone there’d begun to mutate, but not into Streakers. The New Race had been born, and the scientists tested, poked, and prodded us. I was essentially a lab rat.”

She didn’t want to believe it, but history told her people would do anything to survive. “I’m sorry.”

“The New Race can’t abide the light because our skin developed a severe sensitivity to it, like an allergy. Hives, blisters, and dangerous burns when forced into direct sunlight, something Streakers don’t care about in the slightest. One of the first tests the lab conducted after I got there was to make us sit in the sun and see how long before we fried.”

Jenna furrowed her brow. “It can’t be true.”

“Painful and true, but we heal if not out for too long. We tend to be stronger and healthier. This was helpful, especially when the disease started to consume the military base. One night, all the captives decided to escape.”

“How’d you do it?”

“We could outrun the guards, and if they tried to stop us, well . . .” The words to his story fell apart. “We did what we had to do.”

Jenna tried to lighten the mood. “You don’t fall into a coma in the day?”

Caleb’s mouth opened and closed. “What? Like a vampire?”

“Joking.”

He remained stoic. “No, but our senses are sharper at night. It’s easier to hunt. We eat food like everyone else, but hunting . . . I can’t explain it. The warm blood of prey you’ve vanquished is a rush of energy like you’ve never experienced.”

Jenna’s head tilted. Too much information.

She took a deep breath to control the shudder that attempted to escape. “Like a high?”

“It’s hard to explain. You know we mostly hunt deer and animals in the woods. Their blood keeps us healthy and alive, more so than any other food. There’s a thirst for it.”

Worrisome. What did he mean by a thirst for it?

She was about to ask when a whistle blew, informing the group time was running short to get packed and leave.

The puzzle remained unsolved for now. Rumors existed about clans of the New Race who were worse than Streakers. Stories of attacks and feeding off humans emerged from the shadows like urban legends around the campfire.

“Do you believe the gossip about the New Race collecting humans and enslaving them for a source of food?”

“It’s possible,” Caleb replied. “Anything is possible these days.” His hand topped hers. A cold shiver cascaded along her arm.

Having finished packing, they went to the water barrel for a quick drink and then separated to help load all the gear into the vehicles. Their caravan, a random assortment of ten trucks and cars, lined the road by the entrance, ready to move. While ragtag in appearance, all bore armor or improvements. What the vehicles lacked in looks, they made up for in strength. The group’s trip would last five to six hours using the back roads, which usually had fewer car wrecks to maneuver around.

Jenna found it hard to hide her desire to leave this shithole of a Streaker infested town.

7

Darkness had conquered the landscape by the time Jenna jumped into the passenger side of the last vehicle in line, a Jeep Grand Cherokee. Someone of the New Race would drive, and humans would sit shotgun. She needed peace and wanted time to contemplate.

Victor, a happy, chatty New Racer in his mid-forties, usually drove the Jeep. Despite moody Italian looks, he always found something positive to say, and she’d have to do little more than murmur approval.

Jenna’s mouth dropped open. The thud of her heart and her palms turning hot and damp, indicated Caleb’s arrival instead. She wiped her hands against her pants, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He saw everything.

A lopsided smirk greeted her before he settled into the vehicle and adjusted the mirrors. Long, lean legs stretched under the dash. The seat moved backward to accommodate his bulk.

“Is it okay if I drive the Jeep tonight? Victor wanted something a little roomier.”

“Whatever.”

This is going to be a long night. She tugged the end of her ponytail.

Quentin emerged from the darkness. “Any extra room in the jeep?”

“Yes,” she said.

“The back’s full of supplies,” Caleb contradicted.

“We could probably move them.” Her brows dropped into a V.

“No time.” Caleb glanced at the line of car headlights. “Aiko needs a copilot.”

“Cool, man.” Quentin gave a wave before strolling through the line of cars in search of an empty seat.

This sounds like a set-up.

Jenna eyed the half-empty seat behind her. “We could fit him in the back.”

“True, but Aiko needs company too.” He winked before the Jeep sputtered to life and put it in gear, sliding into the line of cars. Streetlights, uncommon in the area anyway, hadn’t been functional in years. Caleb focused on the road ahead, his strong jaw set.

The hum of the engine against the midnight black landscape created an eerie void. Time passed in a slow drip. She slid away to stare out the side window, hands resting