Bloody Sunrise: A Zombie Apocalypse Romance

by Gwendolyn Harper

  Caitlin nodded, smiling as she felt her eyes prick with tears. “Yeah.”

  Booker claimed her mouth, kissing her as if she’d pardoned him.

  Maybe in some way she had.

  Breaking apart just a fraction, Booker mumbled against her bottom lip, “I love you too, Cae. Fuck, do I love you.”

  Rising and sinking back down, she picked up where she left off, only this time she wanted him to fall with her. Was starved for him, hungry to feel his release, to see the bliss in his face.

  “C’mon, Jack,” she urged, cupping his jaw. “You took care of me, now it’s your turn.”

  The strain in his neck gave him away. He wouldn’t last much longer.

  Grabbing a handful of her ass, Booker bucked under her, skin slapping against skin.

  “Caitlin,” he groaned, burying his face in her hair as she stayed leaning over him.

  Her walls fluttered, and she gasped sharply, coming right along with him.

  Utterly spent, she collapsed on his chest, hair tangled around her face. Booker stroked up and down her back, pulse thundering as he came down from his high.

  They were quiet for a long time, dwelling in each other. Caitlin’s eyelids drooped but before she could roll off him to settle in for sleep, Booker kissed the top of her head.

  “Ya know… I think if the world were different, this is the part where I’d ask you to marry me.”

  Caitlin’s smile threatened to crack her face in half. Sitting up enough to see his face, she stared down at him.

  “I think if the world were different, this is the part where I’d say yes.”

  Booker grinned. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she echoed.

  Brushing a lock of hair off her forehead, he said, “What about all that stuff you said about needin’ to know how someone voted, and if they put their dishes in the sink?”

  Still a smart ass, even when he was being romantic.

  “It’s like you said,” she murmured. “When you know, you know.”

  He watched her a moment, overwhelmed by her sincerity.

  “The world might’ve ended, darlin’, but I am damn lucky to have found you.”

  She didn’t argue. She felt just as lucky.

  ***

  Caitlin stirred awake, voice cracking on a moan.

  “Oo-ohh, Jack--!”

  In the morning light streaming in through the curtains she could see him.

  Comforter tossed back, her legs spread wide, dark head of hair settled between her thighs.

  She was half way to coming before she was even awake. And now that she was…

  “Jesus Christ, Jack,” she gasped, fisting his hair.

  Booker hummed against her, vibrations perfect on her clit. She struggled not to thrust up into his mouth, and he must’ve sensed it as one strong arm snaked around to pin her hips to the mattress.

  Panting, she arched her back, grip still tight on his locks.

  Booker ate at her like she was his favorite meal.

  “Oh… Oh…” Her thighs shook, right heel digging into his back, as she barreled towards orgasm. “I—”

  Her voice cut out in a rasp as she came, bowing off the bed. As she floated back down she could feel him groaning against her, practically drinking her in.

  When he finally lifted up, he waited until her eyes opened before grinning at her.

  “Mornin’, songbird.”

  Swallowing to catch her breath, she smiled weakly. “Good morning indeed.”

  “Liked that huh?”

  Caitlin laughed, stroking his hair. “You really have to ask?”

  “Nah, just like hearin’ it.” Kissing the crease of her hip and the tender flesh of her inner thigh, Booker stayed where he was, either too relaxed to move or hoping to eat her out again.

  She hoped it was the latter.

  “Is this something I can expect on a regular basis then, or…?”

  He chuckled, and she felt it in her legs. “Any morning I’m able, you better believe it.”

  Caitlin moaned, dropping her head back against the pillows, and Booker laughed again.

  “Gotta keep the almost-future-missus-Booker happy,” he said against her low belly, kissing her until she was pink from stubble burn.

  “Awfully presumptuous of you to think I’d take your name.”

  He cocked his head to look at her and for a moment she was worried she’d offended him. But then she saw the wheels turning and he smiled.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” he said, leaning his chin on her hip bone. “You’re not a Booker. You’re a Meadows, through and through.”

  “Besides, yelling ‘Booker’ when I’m annoyed won’t have the same effect if it’s also my name.”

  He laughed, breath ghosting over her. “Plannin’ on bein’ annoyed often?”

  “I’m certainly not now…”

  He dragged his lips to the top of her thigh, licking as he went. “Good.”

  Caitlin was right. He’d been waiting.

  By the time he was done, she was spread eagle and limp, panting like she’d run a marathon.

  “Yeah, okay,” she said, catching her breath. “I’m a happy future-missus.”

  Getting ready that morning was leisurely, with lots of stolen moments, pausing with clothes pulled half on to kiss. Hands on warm skin. Nuzzling into each other’s hair, neck, the sharp curve of shoulder blades.

  She’d finally buttoned her jeans when she asked, “So, does almost-future-missus kinda mean I’m already your missus?”

  Bent over to lace up his boots, Booker looked at her. “Whaddya mean?”

  “Well, we’ll never be able to actually get married,” she said, adjusting her borrowed shirt. “Not unless courthouses miraculously survived the apocalypse.”

  He chuckled. “Nah, I don’t suppose they did.”

  “So… Does the promise of commitment kind of already insinuate a commitment’s been made?”

  “This seems like a very complicated discussion to have before breakfast.”

  “Booker, I’m serious.”

  “And there’s the reason you ain’t takin’ my name.”

  She rolled the sleeves of her tee shirt, smirking at him. He smiled and stood up, crossing the short distance to pull her closer.

  “Let’s put it this way,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “It’s you and me. For as long as you can stand me, and for as long as I’ve got air in my lungs.”

  “Why do you automatically assume I’m going to dump you out of irritation?”

  “Dunno, just seems likely.”

  She stared up at him, shaking her head. After a moment she wrapped her arm around his neck, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

  “It’s you and me, Jack. Wherever we go, we go together.”

  Pressing his forehead to hers, he whispered, “You and me. Together.”

  It was the closest to vows they’d ever get.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Caitlin did her best with the available canned goods, but she definitely wouldn’t win any awards for the Vienna sausage and bean combination.

  Walking into the kitchen, Nicole beamed at her.

  “Good morning,” she sing-songed, playfully tapping the side of Caitlin’s neck.

  Booker…

  “Morning,” Caitlin said, covering the hickey and blushing vibrant pink. “Sleep okay?”

  “I think I passed out before I was even on the pillow,” she said. “Did you get any sleep?”

  Caitlin’s blush deepened. “Some, yeah.”

  She could feel Nicole grinning at her.

  “Stop that,” she laughed. “I feel like I’m in high school all over again.”

  “Or junior year when you were with that bio major.”

  “Oh God,” Caitlin groaned. “I’ll never live that down.”

  “Nope,” Nicole laughed.

  Booker’s boots announced his approach up the stairs. “Smells good in here,” he called, opening the cellar door.

  Nicol
e laughed quietly while filling her water glass and Caitlin shot her the harshest glare she could, trying not to dissolve into giggles herself.

  Booker stopped where he was. “What? I get something on me?”

  Caitlin shook her head. “No, it wasn’t…” She paused, trying to stifle herself. “Breakfast is ready.”

  Stepping over to the sink to wash his hands, he caught Nicole’s choked laugh and grinned, completely oblivious.

  “Y’all makin’ fun of me?”

  “Not at all,” Nicole told him. “Just ragging on Caitlin a little.”

  “I can’t believe I don’t get a clean slate even after the world ends.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, Booker flashed a smile. “Y’gonna tell me what—”

  “No,” she cut in. “And Nicole won’t either.”

  Turning, Nicole whispered to him, “I’ll tell you later. It’s a pretty funny story.”

  She clapped her hand on his shoulder and Booker hissed in pain as she pulled back.

  “What the…” Nicole looked from her stained palm to Booker’s shoulder. “Booker you’re bleeding.”

  He dried his hands, grimacing. “Yeah, got caught on something downstairs,” he said, tugging at his shirt. “Didn’t hurt that bad…”

  Turning off the heat on the stove, Caitlin went over to him. “Let me see.”

  He tried to wave her off, but she forced him around, lifting his shirt. A three-inch gash followed the curve of his shoulder, ending just above his tattoo.

  “Jack, this looks deep,” she said, gingerly pressing the skin around the cut.

  “Nah, I’m alright.”

  “You at least need a bandage over it.”

  “Cae—”

  “Nicole, tell him.”

  Booker furrowed his brow at the other woman. “You’re a doctor?”

  “I’m the PhD,” she said. “My husband is the MD, but I’ve seen my fair share of injuries.”

  For the briefest moment, her despair was clear in her eyes, and Caitlin hurt for her best friend. Nicole didn’t even know where Scott was, which Ark camp he was in, or if he’d even made it to one. She was clinging to hope and hope alone.

  Nicole stepped over to inspect Booker’s back. “You definitely need to treat that,” she said. “Do we have a first aid kit in the Jeep?”

  “Yeah, under the passenger seat,” Caitlin told her.

  Nicole was already halfway to the door.

  Tugging his shirt back down, Booker turned. “You’re making a fuss over nothin’.”

  “You’re welcome, Booker.”

  She smirked, and he leaned in to kiss her, but stopped when he saw Nicole running back into the kitchen.

  “Geeks,” she whispered harshly. “A whole herd.”

  Rushing to the front door, Booker peeked out from between the blinds. “Shit.”

  Caitlin was right behind him, staring down the stretch of road.

  Her stomach dropped to her feet.

  Just over the crest of the hill, they came in droves. Mangled, rotting bodies stumbling and knocking into each other. All moving in one direction, with one mind.

  The horizon darkened with an ocean of zombies.

  “Oh god,” she gasped. “There must be…”

  “Hundreds,” Booker finished. Guiding her away from the window, he said, “Make sure all the blinds are closed, all the doors are barricaded.”

  Nicole was already shoving a chair under the handle of the back door. They worked in near silence, even when lifting heavy furniture to push in front of the front door. Booker grabbed his rifle and a box of ammo while Caitlin fit the revolver into the waistband of her jeans.

  “We have to hide,” Nicole whispered.

  “Where?” Caitlin glanced to Booker who was stealing another look out the front window. “Jack?”

  He pointed to the cellar door. “Down there,” he said. “Less chance of ‘em smellin’ us.”

  Pushing Nicole towards the basement, Caitlin ran over to Booker, grabbing him by the hand. “C’mon,” she said, dragging him with her. There was no way in hell she’d let him stay up there alone.

  With quick, light steps, they filed into the dark, damp cellar and shut the door behind them. Booker barred the entrance with a spare piece of wood he’d found. It wasn’t much but it would at least slow a Geek down.

  The only light came from a grime covered rectangular window a foot above their heads. From what Caitlin could tell it was street facing, probably just to the side of the porch.

  They heard them moments before the shadows drifted by.

  Dozens upon dozens upon dozens of footsteps. Sluggish scrapes of rubber on concrete, uneven gaits, muffled groans of the perpetually hungry.

  Nicole stood in the center of the room, frozen as she stared up at the window.

  They were trapped.

  Booker approached her steadily, not wanting to spook her. Gently, he touched her arm and winced when she jerked. Blinking, Nicole came out of her terror and looked up at his dimly lit face.

  “Over here,” he whispered, barely audible.

  He helped Nicole down to the floor next to Caitlin, making sure they were both comfortable before sitting on her other side.

  Glancing over at him, Caitlin took Booker’s hand, threading their fingers together.

  All they could do was wait.

  Together.

  ***

  The trudging migration of undead bodies seemed endless.

  At times they all slowed, as if waiting or perhaps even resting, if zombies needed that sort of thing.

  Booker had been right. There were hundreds of them, all herding together, following the road, the landscape, to a destination no one knew.

  The three of them stayed completely silent, huddled there in the dark.

  Day turned to evening and still the Geeks kept shuffling by.

  Nicole’s stomach growled, and Caitlin wished she’d thought to bring the food down with them.

  But the hunger was nothing compared to the chill from the damp cellar floor. After only a few hours they started shivering, but no one moved for fear of drawing attention to themselves.

  Silent and still. That was how they’d survive this.

  The last of the sunlight had disappeared by the time the footsteps had faded, groans drifting on the night air.

  They still waited another hour before attempting to leave the basement.

  In the eerie quiet, they all held their breath, listening for movement.

  Nothing.

  Booker took the lead, clearing the house room by room; despite there not being a single broken window or shoved open door.

  He wasn’t going to take any chances.

  When the house was deemed safe again, they all exhaled fully.

  Nicole swayed on her feet and Caitlin held onto her, helping her over to the recliner.

  “You need to eat something,” she told her.

  “So do you,” Nicole said.

  “You first.” Caitlin smiled as she started for the kitchen.

  The stuff she’d made for breakfast had congealed in the pan and looked about as appetizing as garbage. Sniffing it, she decided it was still edible, and reheated it quickly. Caitlin made sure Nicole got the biggest portion.

  “You’re still shiverin’,” Booker said, coming up behind her.

  “I’ll warm up eventually.” Glancing over her shoulder, she added, “Have you ever seen a herd that big?”

  “Nah, never.” He shook his head.

  “It was like a whole city’s worth,” she muttered, scraping the food into three dishes.

  It only took them a moment of reflection before they were looking up at each other, eyes wide.

  The township Booker had broken into for the Jeep.

  He’d busted through the fence on his way out…

  “Don’t think about it,” Caitlin told him, grabbing his arm. “It’s not on you.”

  His jaw clenched tightly. “Cae…”

  “No, Jack.” Her
fingers dug into his forearm. “You can’t start taking responsibility for every Geek on the planet. You’ll get crushed under that weight.”

  He was quiet for a while before saying, “Could’ve been smarter about it.”

  “Could’ve done a lot of things,” she said, searching for utensils. “You know what I care about?” She locked eyes with him. “You came back.”

  He stared at her and she felt the exact moment he decided to believe her, to let go of the guilt. His gaze softened, and the corner of his mouth curved.

  I’d do it all again for you.

  I’d never leave you.

  You and me, together.

  They all ate in relative quiet, too exhausted to carry a conversation. Turns out the stress of waiting Geeks out was just as tiring as fighting them off.

  That night they all camped downstairs in the living room, comforted by proximity.

  Booker still took first watch, and Caitlin was never woken up to take over for him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next two days were spent fortifying their temporary home in case it needed to become more permanent. Safety measures were taken for each entrance. Downstairs windows were boarded up to prevent Geeks from smashing inside. Caitlin devised a latch and rope mechanism for both the front and back doors, so they could be barricaded quickly with just the yank of a cord. And the bodies of the Geeks they’d killed were left to add their repulsive stench to their wards.

  They turned the farmhouse into a fortress.

  The perfect place to get their bearings. To debate their future. To plan.

  Caitlin first noticed something was wrong when Booker reached for a can on a high shelf and halted stiffly.

  It was only for a second or two, and he shook it off, but she couldn’t deny the pit that formed in her stomach.

  That night, when he’d playfully hauled her close, she’d instinctively grabbed his shoulders and Booker grunted in pain, flinching away from her.

  “Jack?”

  Then she remembered. They’d never cleaned his wound. They’d been stuck in that filthy basement for a whole day, praying the Geeks wouldn’t notice them, and had completely forgotten his cut.

  “Let me see it,” she ordered, already pulling his shirt up.

  “Cae, don’t—”

  “Would you stop fighting me, and just take your shirt off?”