Roamers (Book 2): Fear. Loss. Survival. Hope.

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Roamers (Book 2): Fear. Loss. Survival. Hope. Page 17

by Viper, Velveteen


  “Just follow me,” he whispered.

  Travis studied the interior and noticed a tannoy microphone on the reception desk.

  “I don’t s’pose you’ve still got your old phone?”

  “No, I got rid of that years ago.”

  “Damn. We need a distraction to draw them away from the library.”

  Scanning the ceiling, he took note of the old sprinkler system and quickly led Scarlett to the basement.

  “I’ve seen this movie. There’s a reason I’ve done what I can to avoid basements since the world ended.”

  “Here,” Travis said, ignoring her nervous humour. He stopped in front of the sprinkler controls and smiled. “Wanna do somethin’ either really smart or really stupid and not find out which until it’s too late?”

  Scarlett giggled at him, “With you? Of course.”

  “We won’t have a lot of time once I pull this lever. It should set off the alarm and attract all those Roamers. Then, we can drive the long way ‘round to the library.”

  “Is that even going to work?”

  “It’s a water gong. The water goin’ through the system triggers the alarm. These old systems have their own water tank. If there’s plenty of water in there, this thing’ll go off all night. Wait in the car.”

  Scarlett left and Travis gave her a minute before forcing the test lever on. Water clanged through the old pipes, knocking loudly each time it hit a bend. A few seconds later, Travis ran for the car as the alarm sounded.

  Scarlett had already turned the vehicle around, and the Roamers were on the move. Once Travis was in, she sped off to find another route to the library. Successfully dodging the dead, she pulled into a small carpark at the front of the building.

  A ramp led from the carpark to the entrance, with black, metal railings running the length. The brickwork was painted white, and a black and white sign above the door read, Morven Library. The Glass door was shattered on the ground, and the shards cracked underfoot as Scarlett and Travis entered with their weapons drawn and their holdalls on their backs. Scarlett investigated the circular reception desk while Travis checked the café for stragglers. Once satisfied that they were alone, they began their hunt for knowledge.

  “Non-fiction is upstairs,” Scarlett observed, reading signs overhead.

  The pair made their way up the wooden steps, leading to a balcony and a room filled with shelves of non-fiction literature. Travis noticed a vending machine on the balcony level and stared into it like a sugar deprived child. He laid his crossbow on the ground, put a hand on either side of the machine and shook it violently. The snacks and drinks inside moved, but nothing fell.

  “Son of a bitch,” Travis scolded.

  Scarlett laughed at his juvenile lack of patience and put a hand on his arm, gently pulling him away.

  “You want a snack?” she smirked.

  “I want a damn soda.”

  Scarlett took a step back before promptly kicking the glass with as much force as she could. The glass cracked, and Scarlett continued until it gave way, making the contents accessible. Travis wasted no time in grabbing four cans of sugary cola, shoving them into his holdall.

  The library was bigger than it looked from the outside, and the room they were in boasted a large, ornate fireplace at one end.

  They split up; Scarlett searched for medical and homeopathic books. One contained recipes for painkillers and antibiotics. Travis was on the lookout for books related to farming or allotment keeping.

  Flicking through pages containing images of food; some of which he’d not seen for years, Travis’ stomach started to grumble. He remembered the food in his bag and couldn’t wait to stuff it in his face and wash it down with his soda. He found a book on antiquated farming equipment and shoved it in his bag, confident that he and others at Homeside had the skill required to build some.

  “You done?” he asked when Scarlett approached.

  “I think so. Considering the journey was pretty painless, I’d be happy to come back for more, but there’s definitely enough here to keep Kate busy for a while.”

  “It’ll be dark soon. We could stay here for tonight.”

  Scarlett smirked at him, “I’d like that.”

  “Me too,” he smiled back. “Why don’t you set up the tent and I’ll grab some kindlin’ for the fire? Then we can eat.”

  * * *

  Travis threw books into the fireplace while Scarlett laid out the blankets. The two-man tent looked remarkably out of place assembled on the black and white granite tiles. Their pile of acquired books was already split between the two holdalls, and the pair were fully aware that they could – and probably should – be heading back to Homeside. Neither wanted to. Not yet.

  Travis toed off his boots and sat down next to Scarlett with an exhausted grunt, holding a can of cola. He popped it open and listened to the effervescing of the liquid.

  “Well, it’s still fizzy,” he shrugged, putting his nose to the can’s opening. “Still smells good, too.”

  Scarlett watched him lift the can to his lips and take a large swig. He immediately spat it into a mess tin.

  “How does it taste?” Scarlett laughed.

  “Like a Roamer’s right testicle on a hot day,” he said, grabbing for his canteen. “That was a fuckin’ terrible idea.”

  “That’s very specific, and thanks for that imagery,” she said, disgusted.

  “Well, you asked.”

  Travis stretched his legs out and leant back on his elbows, raising his eyebrows at Scarlett, who was still snickering at his misfortune.

  The warmth and glow from the fireplace felt homely and old-worldly. The crackling of the flames was accompanied by the constant ringing from the alarm a few buildings down, but even the relentless brrriiing made them happy, knowing that they would be left alone.

  “Alright,” Travis said, dragging his rucksack closer, “we’ve got dry, cold chicken, overripe tamaters, or the world’s weirdest lookin’ carrots.” Scarlett smiled admiringly at him as he studied the deformed vegetables. “What?”

  She responded by leaning closer and kissing him between words, “I… really… really… love… you.”

  “I love you too,” he rumbled.

  Before he could say anymore, or inform Scarlett that he was famished and could still taste the hideous soda, her lips connected with his again. He sat up, dropped the bag of carrots and opened his mouth to her. Scarlett kissed him fervently and he rested a hand on her face, cradling her jaw with his palm. Without pulling away, Scarlett raised herself up and swung one leg over his lap. She began spreading kisses along his jawline, trailing down to his Adams apple.

  “So, you ain’t hungry then?” he chuckled, still eyeing the food.

  “Not for anything you’ve got in that bag. I can eat dry chicken and weird carrots in front of everyone back at Homeside any time I like… I can’t do this,” she smirked, slipping her shirt down her arms, and then helping Travis to do the same. She ran her fingers up and down his torso.

  “Oh my god, you are fuckin’ insatiable.”

  “I missed out on you for eight months, you can be certain that I’m going to make up for it at every opportunity. And I can’t stop thinking about what an incredible team we are. We are badass.”

  “Mm, we sure are,” Travis agreed, his attention finally on her, ogling her chest. He gave in to her, running his hands up and down her back. “Those really are lovely barnyard-boppers.”

  Scarlett sniggered against his mouth and Travis gripped her backside, lifting her while he shifted onto his knees. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he lowered her to the ground.

  When Travis yanked Scarlett’s jeans off, he wondered how he hadn’t noticed her unbuttoning his own. He didn’t give it too much thought, instead shaking them off and turning his attention to her breasts.

  Scarlett tangled her fingers in his hair and arched her back. Her skin prickled under his touch, and the feel of his hot breath provoked a quiet sigh.


  Travis felt her reach between them, guiding him into her. He ground into her like a delicious, deep massage and Scarlett released a primal groan in his ear.

  “Oh, fuck,” Travis growled, spurred on by the sounds she made. He held still for a moment to kiss her, again and again, hard, and then soft, and then hard once more.

  Their silhouettes moved slowly in the orange glow; and Scarlett dug her fingers into his buttocks to pull him closer. Travis grunted in her ear and began to move faster. One at a time, he took her hands and held them level with her shoulders, interlocking their fingers, just like the first time.

  Scarlett’s body temperature rose to meet their tempo and they writhed and moaned, and she filled her nostrils with his scent. His stubble scratched her neck, cheek and face. Travis savoured her warmth. Her body exuded heat, permeating through to his bones. He relished her fingers laced with his own, and she gripped his hands with each thrust.

  Stroke by stroke, moment by incredible moment, Scarlett slowly crawled up the climatic mountain until a tidal wave of pleasure consumed her body. She convulsed beneath him, but he kept the same perfect pace, driving her gradually over the pinnacle and, just as slowly, she crawled on her metaphorical hands and knees down the other side until her climax had subsided and she was left a quivering, entirely satisfied mess.

  Before long, Travis stopped; a long, gravelly sigh pouring from his lips and into Scarlett’s ear, culminating in a whispered, “fuck.” He slumped on top of her, leaving gentle kisses on her collarbone.

  They lay tangled in pleasure, bodies tense and straining against each other. As they slowly relaxed, tremors ran through Scarlett’s body and she quivered below him. He withdrew and shifted up to kiss her.

  “I think I could probably manage some dry chicken now,” Scarlett joked.

  “Fuck, I’m gonna need a minute,” he groaned.

  She wrapped her arms around him and whispered, “I hear you.”

  * * *

  Scarlett’s peaceful slumber was abruptly ended by Travis shaking her awake.

  “Scar, wake up.” His voice was hushed, but frantic. She slid her eyes open to stare directly into his. He immediately put a finger to his lips.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “We’ve gotta go, right now.”

  Scarlett sat up and listened. And then, she noticed. The blissful crackling of the fire and irritating ringing from the alarm had stopped. All she could hear now, apart from their breathing, was the raspy vocalisations of Roamers.

  She knew they were close. She could hear their ungainly steps, smell their putrid flesh, and she could see shadows through the fabric of the tent.

  Without a word, they reached for their weapons. Scarlett slipped into her boots while Travis peered through the mesh vents for a way out. There wasn’t one.

  He took hold of an empty mess tin and began unzipping their polyester prison. His movements were slow and considered, and Scarlett held her breath as he flung the mess tin as far away from them as he could.

  They watched each other as they waited for the cadavers to follow the distraction. Some slid past the tent walls, bumping into each other, trying to reach the sound.

  Scarlett strapped her thigh bag to her leg, and clutched her weapon belt in one hand and an axe in the other, while Travis readied his hunting knife. They knew that any sighted Roamers would see right through Travis’ diversion, so they had to move fast.

  Their hands were forced when a shambler fell onto the tent. It quickly collapsed on them and Travis yanked Scarlett out behind him as he made a break for freedom. Immediately faced with a seeing corpse, Travis pierced its skull before it grabbed for him.

  Scarlett swung upwards with her axe, sending another creature’s head flying backwards. She heard its neck snap with the force, and she and Travis were sure to leave with what they came for; each slinging a holdall over their shoulders and running for the stairs.

  The bags were cumbersome and heavy and, combined with Scarlett’s weakness from her rude awakening, she had to slow down.

  “Scar, let’s go!”

  She dropped the holdall to the ground and kicked it down the stairs. It tumbled and flipped, landing with a thud at the bottom. She began running again as a Roamer grabbed for her shoulder. Scarlett brushed it off and sprinted down the staircase after Travis.

  Travis grasped at Scarlett’s holdall, throwing it over his other shoulder, while bodies tumbled down the staircase after them.

  Unable to wait any longer, Scarlett grabbed her pistol. She fired at two Roamers directly behind her before they got to their feet, but Travis’ panicked, “Fuck!” made her spin around.

  Apparently, there were some stragglers that had failed to keep up with the slightly fresher Roamers, and Scarlett and Travis were stuck between them.

  All they could do was go back on themselves. Travis dropped both holdalls and they vaulted over the circular reception desk. Scarlett handed Travis her other pistol and delved her hand into her thigh bag for spare clips.

  “There’s only two each,” she panted.

  Travis stood and tried to estimate how many Roamers they had to contend with.

  “That’s enough for now,” he said, crouching beside her. “We can take out the runners first, and deal with the slow ones by hand if we need to.”

  That’s exactly what they did; back to back behind their circular shield, they revolved on the spot, picking off the sighted and running cadavers first. The remainder of their ammo was used to make a path toward their belongings and the door.

  They managed to grab everything between them and burst out the door. Once back in the car, Scarlett turned the key in the ignition and sped off toward Homeside.

  * * *

  “Well, you guys look like you had a rough time,” Piper said. She was sitting at a kitchen table with her arms folded. Travis dropped their appropriated books down in front of her proudly. “Okay, so you did good,” she smiled.

  “I told you, I’m better with Scarlett.”

  “Certainly seems that way. I’m glad you got some time together, even if it was risky. And, thank you both. These books will be invaluable to Homeside once all this shit with Grey is over.”

  “No problem.”

  “Oh, and Travis, when you get the chance, could you have a look at the couch for me? I think one of the wooden beams is cracked.”

  “Uh, sure,” he blushed.

  “Thanks, T.” Travis turned to leave. “And don’t forget that this is an old house… paper-thin walls,” she giggled.

  Travis left with a red face, shaking his head.

  In the cabin, Scarlett was lying diagonally on the double bed. She’d showered and put Hope and James to bed. Travis let himself in and observed her. She was wearing one of his shirts. Her legs were crossed and the radio rested on her stomach.

  When Travis closed the door, Scarlett looked in his direction and smiled. That scene, in that moment allowed Travis to pretend that he was leading a normal life. The dim lights either side of the bed, illuminating Scarlett and his sleeping children, gave the illusion that he’d gone back in time and met Scarlett before the turn.

  All too soon, that illusion was shattered by the crackling from the radio, followed by Grey’s voice.

  “Are you there?”

  “I’m here, Ethan,” Scarlett replied.

  “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m okay. I can’t wait to get out of this place.”

  While Scarlett did her best to sound demure and scared, yet comforted by Grey, Travis silently toed off his boots. He slid his jacket to the floor and crawled up the bed, resting his head on Scarlett’s abdomen. Her free hand made its way to the back of his head. Travis cuddled into her, and she stroked his hair.

  “I’ll get you out of there, McKenzie,” Grey said stoically. “But I don’t want to make plans on here. They could be listening.”

  “I understand. I’ve snuck out before, but I can’t go too far. Once they realise I’m gone, they s
end someone to find me.”

  “Alright, here’s what I want you to do--”

  Before Grey could reveal his plan, Scarlett switched off the radio. Travis looked up at her expectantly.

  “I don’t want to hear any of his orders right now,” she explained.

  “It’s good that he wants to meet. You should set it up tomorrow.”

  “No. I’ve got other plans for tomorrow.”

  Travis lifted his head and crawled up to be level with her face.

  “What plans are those?” he asked.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Newhill,” Scarlett said. “We’ve got friends there. Good fighters.”

  She’d ambushed Piper at the breakfast table, eager to take advantage of her grogginess.

  “Have you got your own personal little army that we don’t know about, Scarlett?” Vaughan chuckled.

  Scarlett smiled and rolled her eyes, “Something like that.”

  “So, how long will you both be gone?” Piper asked, a little perturbed that two of her best fighters were leaving again at such a tumultuous time. “You barely made it back from Morven.”

  “Only a day,” Travis replied. “Two at the most. It depends on what we come across. It took me a lot longer than that, but I had a few brushes along the way.”

  “I feel a little uneasy about James going with you,” Kate said.

  “He’ll be fine,” Scarlett smiled. “Hope could do with an uninterrupted night’s sleep, and James seems to be permanently attached to a boob anyway.”

  “I’ll make up a first aid kit for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Piper folded the map and handed it to Travis, “Well, I’m not going to pretend that I’m okay with losing both of you again for what could be a couple of days. Morven was different; closer… but if these people are as much of an asset as you claim them to be, then I guess it’ll be worth it. I’ll have Bill sort out some food and water for you.”

  “Thanks, Piper,” Travis rumbled.

  * * *

  “Are we there yet?” Scarlett said playfully.

  “Don’t fuckin’ start,” Travis sniggered.

  Scarlett opened the glove box and began rifling through a collection of CDs inside.

 

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