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

The whispered word evaporated into the air before a cough ensued, and then his breathing turned shallow and disjointed.

“What do we do?” Jenna asked, tears threatening.

“It’s going to be okay. We’re doing everything we can.” The older woman went into medical mode, tallying the products in the bag and selecting a large bottle of antibiotics. She read the information and retrieved two capsules.

Jenna watched Emma prop Quentin’s head and prompt him to swallow the large pills. Then she brushed the lank hair off his forehead and fluffed his pillows, all the while chatting about how he’d be better soon.

Grabbing Jenna’s arm, she guided the younger woman out of the room.

“Off to bed with you.” Emma’s voice was motherly. “You must be exhausted and there is nothing more to do. We won’t know anything for at least twenty-four hours.”

“Let me sit with him.”

“You’ll just bother him.”

“I want to be with him. He shouldn’t be alone.”

“Quentin has not been alone. Someone is always with him.” Emma looked offended anyone might consider her care substandard. “Aiko volunteered first and is one of the most common visitors. Other than you and me, she’s been with him more than anyone else.”

“Seriously?” Anger leaked into the words. “She probably wants to be the first around to shoot him if he changes. Get some target practice in.”

“You most definitely need some sleep and to wake up with a different attitude.”

“I want to sit with him for a couple hours.”

“Fine, but don’t bother him. Let him sleep.”

“Thank you.” She gave the other woman a quick squeeze before returning to the room, settling comfortably on a chair next to the bed.

While he slept, she whispered all the details of what happened in Pittsfield. He did not stir and after a while she drifted into a doze.

Jackie woke her and Jenna hurried to her room. She washed, changed, and attempted to sleep but light filtered in from behind closed curtains and rest eluded her. After restless minutes, she was back in Quentin’s room, forcing Billy out and once again settled comfortably in the deeply cushioned chair.

“Jenna!”

The murky room made her wonder where the day had gone.

Had she dozed off for a long time? Why had no one come to relieve her? Where were they all?

Darkness snaked across the floor, slithering up the chair Jenna nestled in and capturing her in it. It overtook the bed too, inking its way across Quentin’s toes, his foot, and up his torso.

She reached out to save him, but couldn’t move, mired deep in the dark malevolence.

Quentin opened his eyes in fright and sat. “Please save me!” The blackness slid down his throat causing him to retch. He was dying and there was no way to help. The gags turned muffled and then stopped. The body on the bed lay rigid and unmoving.

Evil will find you, a voice screamed. Something wicked, this way comes.

Jenna shot out of the chair, panting and fully awake. The nightmares were back. She gazed at her hands to see if the evil had left a mark and then approached Quentin, fearing she had predicted his demise.

It couldn’t be true.

His shirt was soaked through with sweat, but he was breathing. She swiped at the stray hair hanging across his eyes.

“Hey, beautiful,” Quentin whispered. “You make a lot of noise when you sleep.”

“How are you?”

“Awful.” He managed a pained smile. “I’ll make it.” A raw, hacking cough claimed him.

“I must have fallen asleep for a while.” Jenna moved to the bed to give him some water. His cheeks were hot and damp. “You still have a fever.”

“You were sleeping when Emma came in and gave me a few aspirin and more horse pills. She says I’m doing better.”

“How long have I been in here?”

“A long time. I don’t mind. They tried to make me eat lunch and dinner so it must be evening.”

“I slept so long. I must go check on the horses. Will you be okay without me?”

“I’ll manage.” He cracked another small smile and yawned through dry, chapped lips. “I’m going to nap like you’ve been doing all afternoon.”

“I’ll check on you later.”

Quentin had already dozed off. She planted a kiss on his check and found Emma on her way out of the inn.

“How’s the patient?”

“I’m hopeful.” Emma said.

“Me too. He’s going to make it. I feel it in my bones.”

“Keep sending those positive mantras his way and he will.”

“If only positive thoughts worked all the time.”

Maybe she had enough positive thoughts to keep her nightmares at bay. It was just a bad dream, her subconscious crying out, nothing more.

She wandered out to the barn brooding about Caleb, which started her heart pounding and palms sweating.

What was she going to do with that situation? Not consider it. Find a distraction. Visit the horses. They’d help.

They’d thrived on the overgrown grass in the big paddock where they spent their days, but Jenna was already worrying about winter. There had to be a way to cut and store hay, and maybe she’d convince Caleb to go forage for some grain after their successful raid in Pittsfield. Exercising the drafts would be a bonus before tucking them into the safety of the barn for the night. She’d free lunge the horses outside. It would rid all of them of excess energy. When done, the treat of a shower waited.

Boy, did she need it! Not worth wasting water before going to play with ponies.

She might extend the five-minute limit to seven, the scalding water cleaning off both the anxieties of the raid and the pungent smell of equines. While she found the smell of horses an improvement over Streaker, other people didn’t share her fondness and she would soon reek with the powerful combination of the draft’s sweat and manure.

Working with the equines also meant missing the communal dinner, but for now she preferred to be alone. Even though the rumbling in her gut had started hours ago, anger over the group’s decision not to help Quentin left her not wanting to socialize. People