Daisy and the Dead (Book 4): Elijah and the New World
Page 13
I raise an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m tired?”
“You were dragging back there.”
“No. I wasn’t.”
He smirks. “You were.”
“Whatever. Can you just leave? Go give someone else a pep talk.”
He grins like he thinks what I’ve said is funny or something.
“Seriously. Go.”
He squats so we’re eye to eye. I hate that I notice how his camouflage pants are tight over his muscular thighs. And how his shirt is as equally as tight over his chest and arms. And how the green shirt brings out little flecks of the same color in his mostly brown eyes.
“Is this attitude because it’s our anniversary?”
“Our what?” My voice echoes and some of the guys give me a look before resuming to their conversations.
He grins. “Our anniversary. You know, from when I stopped that biter from eating you.”
My stomach drops. He’s – oh god. He’s right! How could I have forgotten? That must be why I was thinking about my stupid wedding gown.
His dark eyes soften a bit and I hate him even more for showing me sympathy. I need him to be an asshole. It’s the only way this is bearable.
“I just assumed that’s why-”
I cut him off. “Seriously, just go.”
His expression changes and I’ve finally pissed him off.
He nods. “About time to head out.”
I want to scream ‘head out to where?’, but I don’t. I’m not sure he’ll answer and it’ll only make the others glare at me even more. Sighing, I grab my pack and slip my shoulders through the straps.
In the beginning, I’d take the pack off each day and have massive blisters on my shoulder blades. I am fairly fit, but there’s a difference between being tone and being apocalypse fit. That was probably the worst part. That and watching my fiancé turn into a biter at our wedding.
I fall in line with the guys, trying not to let my thoughts wander. That’s how people die these days. Because memories can be killer. But I can’t stop the onslaught that’s happening.
I still remember it like it was yesterday. I finally got my hideous wedding dress zipped up. I didn’t remember it being so tight. I wouldn’t put it past Steve’s mom to order a smaller size just because she can. My best friend simply shakes her head as she looks at me.
“Don’t say it.”
Skeeter shrugs. “I’m not going to. Because you already know. It’s fucking horrible.”
We stare at my reflection. Her dress is at least decent. Since Steve’s mom wouldn’t pay for it, Skeeter got to wear her own dress that’s a beautiful shade of blue. My dress, on the other hand, still looks awful. Skeeter pokes one of the slightly yellow fluffy sleeves.
“You must really love Steve.”
We both giggle and I feel better.
“I do.”
She gives me a serious look and my stomach drops. I know she’s been wanting to talk to me, but I’ve been avoiding her for this very reason.
“I know I gave you shit for staying with him after he cheated on you, but I want you to know I hope the two of you are happy.”
I nod my head once. What else can I say? After the incident, as I like to call it, things were tense between Steve and me. I wasn’t sure I would marry him, but he begged until I gave in.
I finally say, “Thanks.”
There’s a knock on the door and Steve’s mom says, “It’s almost time. The new preacher finally showed up.”
“I’m ready,” I call out.
When she’s gone, Skeeter asks, “New preacher?”
“The other one got sick.”
She nods. “Probably has the bug going around.”
I reply, “That’s what I said, too. Steve was bummed when we found out last night. I guess the preacher was the same one who baptized him.”
“Bummer.”
I didn’t care who married us. I just wanted this wedding to be over. Of course, I didn’t voice my thoughts to Steve. He would just freak out. Wonder what his preacher would think if he knew Steve cheated on me?
The door opens and we are ushered from the room. Since I don’t have family, both sides of the church are filled with Steve’s family and friends. Skeeter walks down the aisle first. I grit my teeth together when I see that the runner on the floor is a burnt orange, the color of Steve’s mom’s favorite football team. She’s standing at the head of the church, next to Steve, and gives me a sweet smile.
Bitch! She knew I wanted the colors to be pastels. My teeth ache from gritting and I’m not even halfway down the aisle yet. Finally, I reach Steve’s side. He takes my hand into his very clammy one. In my heels I’m a good foot taller than he is. He’ll have something to say about my height later, but I’ll have words of my own.
The preacher steps up to the podium. Dude is like a hundred years old! Not even kidding. He reminds me of the priest in The Princess Bride, which is my favorite movie. Skeeter snorts next to me and I know she’s thinking the same thing.
The ceremony begins. Steve’s hands shake and more sweat drips off him and onto me. I gaze at him out of the corner of my eye. His skin is ashy and he’s sweating bullets.
“You okay?” I murmur.
His mom leans forward, cutting her eyes at me. Steve meets my gaze and I gasp. His eyes are bloodshot, red vessels everywhere.
“Steve?”
He whispers, “I don’t feel so hot.”
I’m about to say he should sit down when the doors to the church burst open. A woman wearing a white dress sets her sight on Steve and comes toward us. I know right away who it is.
“You mother fucker!” She screams. “What did you give me?”
There are audible gasps throughout the room. I don’t say anything. Instead, I drop Steve’s hand.
“Honey,” he whines. “What are you doing here?”
She reaches us. Shit. She looks as bad as he does. There’s a second where I fear whatever they have is contagious.
“You fucked me, got me sick, and now you’re actually going to marry this bitch?”
More gasps. This time Skeeter steps forward, ready to protect me, whether it be with fists or words.
The preacher asks, “Would you like to take a moment to discuss this privately?”
He’s looking at Steve’s mom, who shakes her head.
Steve says to the woman, “I didn’t give you anything. I told you it’s that bug that’s going around.”
“Like I’m going to believe that. We shoot up together, fuck, and now I’m sick.”
He darts his eyes to his mom and then to me. I must admit I’m surprised at the drug bit. I never saw any indication of this, but I’m starting to think I don’t know the man standing next to me.
Steve takes a step toward the woman. “You should leave. We can talk about this later.”
“We can talk about this now, you son of a-”
The woman’s face pales and then she collapses. I stare at her, not knowing what to do. I’m not much of a believer in God, but this has me wondering if someone is trying to tell me this wedding is a bad idea.
Steve’s mom shrieks, “Steve, take care of this problem. Right now.”
As I’m sure Steve has done his entire life when his mom barks out an order, he bends, ready to help his mistress. The thought makes me cringe. Mistresses sound so classy when you read about them. Kept Women. Women of leisure. All that. What you don’t picture is someone that looks like they’re on meth wearing a wedding dress that probably cost more than the piece of shit you have on.
Steve bends to check on the woman. At the same time, the church is filled with buzzing and the chirping of cell phones.
Skeeter’s bra dings and she lifts her phone. “Shit. There’s a warning about the virus. They’re saying we need to stay inside.”
More phone chirps, some with the emergency broadcasting tone.
Someone from the back of the church yells out, “The Civil Authority has issued a contagious disease warning for
the entire state! Travel is restricted. They say to avoid contact with people with fevers, sweating, confusion, and erratic behavior.”
I glance down at Steve and his mistress. Uh. Yeah. That basically describes the two of them.
Skeeter says to me, “Nikki, we should get out of here. It sounds like things are pretty bad out there.”
Steve glances up. “You can’t seriously be thinking of leaving. We’re at our wedding for Christ’s sake!”
“And you can’t seriously think I’m going to marry you after your mistress, the woman you cheated on me with, just showed up to our wedding.”
His mouth gapes, reminding me of a fish. He’s about to say something when the woman groans. It’s the freakiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. It’s like the life is leaving her body in one loud exhale of breath.
Steve’s mom bends to get a better look. “Is she oka-”
Her words turn into screams as the woman sits up and latched onto Steve’s mom’s neck, ripping the flesh away. Blood sprays into the air and covers my dress. Thankfully, it doesn’t get on my face.
Skeeter pulls me away just as the woman sits up.
Steve gasps. “Honey! I thought you were dead!”
I stare at him as people scream and leave the church. This bitch just ripped his mom’s neck out and he’s glad she’s okay? What. The. Fuck.
The woman stands on shaky legs. Her eyes are milky white and she’s snapping her teeth like she’s ready to sink them into more flesh. Skeeter tugs my arm again.
“Nikki, let’s get out of here.”
I’m about to agree when the woman lunges for us. I manage to jump out of the way, but she grabs ahold of one of my ruffled sleeves, ripping it. I struggle to get away, but this bitch is scary strong. Skeeter pushes the woman, who falls against Steve. They fall to the ground and he cries out once.
Someone screams. “God save us! There’s another one.”
Steve’s mom is now rising to her feet. Blood oozes from her neck, down her dress. She sniffs the air and then attacks the poor preacher. He goes down as the rest of the guests flee. I think I hear ambulances outside, but it might be wishful thinking.
Skeeter cries out, “Nikki!”
I turn as Steve lunges at me. He, too, has become one of the monsters. I try shoving him away, but he’s too strong. I push his chest, looking frantically for something to hit him with. Skeeter screams as the mistress attacks her. There’s nothing I can do to help her because Steve is coming at me again.
He stares at me and I know the man I once knew isn’t there anymore. My arms ache as I hold him back. If they give in, I’m dead.
“Close your eyes,” a deep voice yells from the back of the church.
I don’t want to do it. What if Steve gets a burst of energy and I don’t see it?
“Fucking listen to me!”
Something in his tone snaps me into action. I close my eyes as a gun fires. Something wet and sticky sprays my face. A sob works its way up my throat, but I refuse to open my mouth. There are three more shots and then nothing.
Something cool touches my face and I cringe.
“I’ve got you. Hold on.” He wipes my face. “There.”
I don’t realize I’m crying until his thumb brushes a tear away. Slowly, I open my eyes and try not to gasp. The man before me is fucking stunning. Tall, muscles for days, dark hair, and dimples that appear as he smiles down at me. And then he has to ruin it by fucking talking.
“If you’re done being dramatic, there are others I need to help. Come on.”
He takes me by the hand, pulling me from the altar. I glance over my shoulder and see Steve’s lifeless body. And then I see Skeeter.
“Wait! My friend – she’s hurt.”
He shakes his head. “She’s as good as dead. We don’t have time.”
I dig my heels into the carpet. “I’m not leavi-”
With a heavy sigh, he lifts his gun and points it at Skeeter. She’s gone a moment later. I don’t even hear the gun go off. I think I’ve gone into shock. This man, no- monster, tosses me over his shoulder and we leave the church.
Outside, it’s like stepping into a nightmare. People run everywhere. Gunshots ring out in the air. And then there’s those things, just like Steve became. One gets close to us, reaching out. I let out a half-moan half-scream. The man holding me turns, and kills it with a knife.
“Can you walk?”
I nod, but realize he can’t see me. “Yes.”
My voice doesn’t crack, which I’m glad for. I get the feeling this guy hates emotional people. He puts me on my feet and aims his gun at one of the monsters.
“Why are your shooting them?”
He glances at me like I’m crazy. “Because they’re fucking zombies!”
You hear the word in movies all the time, or even on the news when people started doing bath salts. But to hear it in real life is just… almost too much to handle. Zombies? Like really? How can he be sure?
I must have voiced that last thought because he says, “Because they are zombies. Look at them!” He shoves me back as one comes close. “Haven’t you watched the news recently?”
I don’t like his tone. I don’t tell him that no, I haven’t watched the news because I’ve been too busy with planning my wedding. Instead, I watch him take down an older man with milky white eyes. The only thing out of place with him is the black ooze coming from the corner of his mouth. Oh, and he smells. Like super bad.
There was a dead mouse in the vent of my car one time. There wasn’t anything the mechanic could do to get it out, so I had to wait for it to decompose. Every time I got into my car and turned the A/C on I would be blasted with the scent of death. That’s what this old guy smells like, only way worse. So, maybe this gun-toting man knows something I don’t.
He grabs my wrist and pulls me behind him as we run. More people are on the streets. Some are in cars and I can see this is getting out of hand very fast.
“Where are we going?”
He glances at me. “Somewhere safe.”
I should have told him to let me go. I should have gone back to the church to see if anyone was still there. I should have done anything but let him drag me along. But I didn’t. And now I’m stuck with him.
That’s when I made Rule 1: Listen to your gut.
Available Winter 2018/ early 2019
Also by Sarah Bale:
Virgin Wars
Wedding Wars
The Contender (Wrestling Diaries #1)
The Rematch (Wrestling Diaries #2)
The Main Event (Wrestling Diaries #3)
Daisy and the Dead (Book #1)
Elijah and the Living (Book #2)
Daisy and the Lost Souls (Book #3)
Elijah and the New World (Book #4)
Nikki’s Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse (Doomsday Dave Book #1)
Hard for the Money (A Bangers Book #1)
Hard Lessons (A Bangers Book #2)
Hard to Handle (A Bangers Book #3)
Sexting St. Nick- A Happy Ending Holiday Novella
Seducing Jack Frost- A Happy Ending Holiday Novella
Tasting Sugar Plum- A Happy Ending Holiday Novella
Ruled by Pain (Goddess Unveiled Book #1)
Ruled by Power (Goddess Unveiled Book #2)
Ruled by Pleasure (Goddess Unveiled Book #3)
Anthologies featuring stories by Sarah:
Gone with the Dead
Lone Star Zombie-Con – An anthology of Horror and Hope
About the Author
Sarah Bale's family always knew she was destined to write romances when they saw the elaborate stories she created for her Barbie dolls. At fifteen she penned her first book, which will never see the light of day if she has any say.
When Sarah isn't writing she enjoys spending time with her family and friends and also planning what she’d do in a zombie apocalypse. She resides in Oklahoma and doesn't plan on leaving any time soon.
You can find her at:
www.SarahBale.com
Twitter: @Sarah_OKC