Chapter Fourteen

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Chapter Fourteen (Alexander)

"Achoo!"

"I thought vampires didn't get sick." Mark said with a smirk as he bit into a Twizzler, ripping it in half with his teeth, grimacing as one caught on his fang and he tried to use his tongue to flick it off. I frowned, rubbing my nose about to say something about an irritation, but Amber spoke first.

"You know, they believe that in Japan, if you sneeze, someone's talking about you." She pointed out with a smile before sipping at her McDonalds drink, her legs crossed under the marble table we were sitting at outside. I averted my eyes, sipping the blood I'd slipped into my McDonalds cup. I glanced at Storm, who sipped his blood in a thermos silently, ignoring all of us as if doing that would make all our problems go away.

He was still angry and I didn't blame him.

"So, where are we anyway?" Mark asked, leaning over by Amber to look at the map that we had spread out on the table. The only lights came from the gas station slash McDonalds we'd stopped at about midnight. Amber leaned over to scan the map.

"We're here on this dot," She answered, placing her thumb on the map as she popped a french fry dipped in blood into her mouth, "It's not even a town. Just a rest stop, really. We're about half an hour away from Red Field."

"Speaking of red," Mark said, shaking his empty bag of Twizzlers, "Can we buy more of these?"

"Those aren't even healthy for you." Storm scolded, taking the bag and tossing it into a nearby garbage can. Mark rested his elbows on the table, his head in his hands as he pouted.

"It doesn't matter anymore, right? I'm a v... Uh, well, you know. Come on, please? Just one more bag and I'll stop asking for the rest of the trip." He promised, clasping his hands together under his chin. I was surprised to see Storm buckle down, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a five dollar bill that he handed to Mark.

Not wanting him to go alone, I followed at his heels as we entered the gas station and Mark went straight for the Twizzlers, only to pause and grab a small bag of Reese's Pieces. I raised an eyebrow, leaning on the shelf beside the candy to watch him search for more.

"You know, just because we can't get sick and die doesn't mean you can binge like that." I warned as he picked up a Hershey bar. Mark nibbled his lower lip before glancing up at me.

"It distracts me from wanting blood." He admitted. I blinked, lowering my arms and pushing off the shelf to look at him curiously.

"It does?" I asked. Mark nodded.

"And I don't want to use up what little we have, so I rather eat myself into a diabetic coma that'll probably only last like, two minutes." He replied brightly. I stared at him, surprised. I never thought I'd see Mark look so... alive. Before when he'd been human, he seemed almost... Well, literally dead, but also metaphorically. He was a zombie, stocking up on drugs and pot and enough cigarettes that I'm surprised he didn't end up with lung cancer.

"Well, if it helps, then go ahead." I said, admitting defeat. Mark smiled at me, but his smile melted and he dropped the candy to the floor. I frowned in concern.

"Mark?" I demanded. He grabbed onto the shelf and almost hit the floor, but I caught him under the arms as he panted hard for breath, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth.

"Everything all right over there?" The owner asked cautiously from behind the counter.

"He's just feeling sick. Where's your bathroom?" I asked. He pointed to a door in the back and I managed to help Mark to the bathroom where he slumped to his knees, gripping the sides of his head tightly, curling up into a tight ball on the floor. I shut the door and locked it, whirling around to drop to my knees beside him.

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