by Dia Cole
Last Night in Hell
Dia Cole
Contents
Summary
1. Sophie
2. Sophie
3. Tore
4. Sophie
5. Jack
6. Sophie
7. Xander
8. Sophie
Afterword
About the Author
Books By Dia Cole
Excerpt from Claiming Her Mates: Book One
Summary
1. Havana
Thank you
Last Night in Hell
All rights reserved.
Published by Black Diamond Press LLC.
Copyright © 2019
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction, electronic sharing, or other unauthorized use of this book is prohibited without the express written permission of the publisher.
Edited by Anne-Marie Rutella
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-946975-16-4
Summary
A night she’ll never forget…
Sophie planned for missing guests and a venue change, but never in her wildest dreams did she foresee the apocalypse happening just days before her wedding. Thankfully, her best men and a dangerous former hitman keep her safe.
Then the unthinkable happens…
Now, innocent Sophie has only hours to live and a decision to make. Will she stay true to her long-lost groom or let her sexy companions give her the wedding night of her dreams?
1
Sophie
“We shouldn’t be here,” I whisper to the spiky-haired guy in the tattered Megadeth T-shirt. “We’re only supposed to check the street, do a head count of the dead, and report back. No scavenging, remember?” My voice seems to reverberate off the empty shelves of the convenience store.
Kevin lets out a noncommittal grunt and steps over an overturned rack. His movements send dust motes dancing into the musty air.
I grit my teeth in frustration. “There could be Biters in here.” I tighten my fingers around the twirling baton in my hands. The razor-sharp knives I’ve attached to each end of the baton turned the old trinket from my majorette days into a lightweight double-bladed spear—perfect for putting down the dead.
Kevin rolls his eyes. “Chill, Sophie. There are no zombies in here.”
He’s right. If there were Biters in here they would’ve attacked us already. I let out the deep breath I’m holding and loosen my death grip on the baton. “There’s no food in here either,” I grumble, looking up at the poster-sized photos of ice cream cones, hot dogs, and candy bars hanging from the water-stained ceiling tiles.
My stomach rumbles reminding me that I haven’t eaten since this time yesterday. The idea of stumbling across a bag of chips missed by the last group of survivors to loot this place keeps me following Kevin down the aisle.
“There’s more to life than food.” Kevin grabs a box off the ground and chucks it at my face.
Somehow I manage to catch it without dropping my baton. It’s a jumbo box of condoms. “Really, Kevin?”
“Why don’t we have a quickie?” Kevin wags his bushy eyebrows suggestively.
As if. I barely resist the temptation to stab him with the baton. “Fuck off.”
“Come on. What are you waiting for? I can pop that cherry of yours, right here, right now.”
My face heats. I can’t believe he knows I’m a virgin. But then again he’s my fiancé’s best friend. He probably knows everything, including the fact that I’ve tried dozens of times to seduce Logan, but each time he pushes me away. Logan is the one who wants to wait until we're married.
I skim my free hand over the engagement ring I’m wearing on a chain around my neck. Sadly, the princess cut solitaire hasn’t fit on my finger for a long time.
Kevin openly leers at the tiny bit of cleavage my navy V-neck sweater shows. “You look good enough to eat.”
I twirl the baton in annoyance. “You know Jack and Xander would kick your ass if they could hear you right now.” Our two childhood friends have always been very protective of me. They, along with Kevin, had rushed to my side when the Z-virus first started turning people into monsters.
Kevin snorts. “That’s just cause they are both dying to screw you. Probably at the same time, you know those motherfuckers are freaky as shit.”
What? The idea that the two gorgeous guys have any romantic interest in me rocks my world. I hide my surprise by stuffing the box of condoms in my backpack. Although I won’t use them, I can barter or trade them for something.
“Come on, Sophie,” Kevin pleads. “Give me a chance to rock your world.”
“I’m engaged to Logan, remember?”
His smirk evaporates. Grief flashes in his hazel eyes. Suddenly, he looks much more like the freckle-faced kid who used to tug on my ponytail when we were kids. “You know Logan is dead, right?”
My heart skips a beat. Emotions I usually keep on lockdown, threaten to drown me. I shake my head, denying his words. “No. Logan is out here somewhere. We’ll find him.” Kevin and the other guys think he’s dead because he didn’t meet up with us at my apartment all those months ago, but there has to be another explanation. Logan could’ve been helping other people battle the dead, or been trying to find his mom, or he could’ve gotten trapped somewhere, or…
Or he could be dead.
I shut my eyes and clench my fist around my ring. The sharp bite of the diamond into the soft flesh of my palm centers me. Logan’s alive and I’m going to find him. I let out a deep breath, open my eyes, and fix Kevin with a look of determination. “I’m not giving up hope.”
Kevin offers me a sad smile and clamps his hand on my shoulder. “Then I won’t either. Forgive my crass words, my lady.” He bows low, making me laugh. When he straightens, his gaze locks on something over my shoulder. “Fucking A! I knew there was treasure here!” He points to a lone carton of cigarettes resting high on a shelf behind the cash register. “Look! That could be the last carton in all Saguaro Valley.”
I shake my head. “Haven’t you given that nasty habit up?” Probably the only good thing to come from the apocalypse is it forced people to give up their addictions. Cigarettes, liquor, and pills had been the first things to vanish from store shelves and people’s homes in the early days of the outbreak.
“I’d die for a cigarette right now.” Kevin rushes over to the counter, clambers on top of it, and tries to grab the carton. The tips of his fingers brush against the side of it.
“Kevin! Seriously, you’re going to hurt yourself. Get down.”
“Just a little more.” He stretches his arms.
Behind the counter, a few feet from the register, is an empty wheelchair and a shaking life-size cardboard cutout of a NASCAR driver holding an energy drink in his hand.
The shaking cardboard snares my attention. Why is it moving?
It takes me half a second to realize the danger my friend is in. Oh, shit! We never looked behind the counter. Fear climbs the back of my throat. Not wanting to startle Kevin, I say, “Kevin, get away from there,” as calmly as I can manage.
“Give me a second. I almost have it.” Kevin rises on the balls of his sneakers.
The cardboard cutout crashes on its side as if a gust of wind hit it.
“What’s that?” Kevin shouts. He twists around and loses his footing. As if in slow motion, I watch him pinwheel his arms in the air and fall back behind the counter—taking the wheelchair down with him. A heartbeat later,
Kevin lets out a bloodcurdling shriek.
“Kevin!” I rush to the counter.
He’s on his back trying to fight off a badly decomposed, one-legged zombie. The creature’s jaws are buried in his throat. Blood is everywhere.
Shock freezes me in place. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.
Kevin’s eyes are wild with panic and pain. He gurgles my name.
I have to help. Shoving away my terror, I bound over the counter and kick the zombie off my friend.
Kevin lets out a scream as the creature takes out a chunk of his throat.
The Biter, still wearing a plastic nametag on a lanyard around its neck, clicks its blood-covered teeth together and reaches for Kevin again.
Oh no you don’t! I stab my baton straight through its diseased white eyes.
With its brain incapacitated, the creature goes lax.
I fall to my knees over Kevin. His eyes are closed and his skin is pale. There’s so much blood. I can’t see how bad the damage is. Fighting back hysteria, I desperately try to recall my first aid training. Have to stop the blood loss.
My breath comes in shallow gasps as I tear off the sweater I’m wearing. It leaves me in my bra, but I don’t care about the cold. All that matters is Kevin.
I quickly press my sweater against his neck and hold it there. Anguish tightens like a noose around my throat. I don’t know what else to do. It’s not as if I can save Kevin at this point. Even if the blood loss doesn’t kill him, he’s been infected. The Z-virus will kill him and reanimate him as a zombie in twenty-four hours. He’s as good as dead.
“Why did you have to go after the cigarettes?” I ask him, my voice cracking. “Why don’t you ever listen to me?”
His eyelids flutter.
“Kevin!”
The spark of hope inside me dies the moment Kevin’s eyes open. His milky white orbs lock on my face at the same time he turns his head and snaps his jaws around my right forearm.
“Aah!” Too shocked to even feel pain, I punch the creature formerly known as Kevin repeatedly with my left hand trying to free my arm.
He clamps his teeth down harder.
“Noooo!” I beat at his head. When that does nothing, I reach my free hand toward the head of the one-legged zombie. As soon as my fingers register the cool metal of my baton, I wrap my hand around it and yank it out of the desiccated skull. Then I swing it down on top of Kevin’s head. The sharp tip of the knife slides straight through his skull with a sickening crunch.
Kevin goes motionless.
Trembling, I shake his jaws off me. Then, cradling my arm against my chest, I collapse onto the bloody linoleum next to the two corpses. Hot tears blur my vision as I inspect my arm. The sliver of hope I have that his teeth didn’t break the skin goes up in smoke once I see the damage. Oh, no. I’m infected.
Sadness and shock give way to rage. “Goddamn you!” I scream at Kevin’s body. But it isn’t his fault. I’m the dumbass that didn’t anticipate him dying and reanimating so quickly.
Overwhelmed with emotion, I clench my engagement ring in my hand. It’s wet with blood. I furiously wipe it until it sparkles like it did when Logan first got down on one knee and presented it to me. Then I let out a hysterical sob.
It’s over now. I’ll never find Logan. I’ll never look into Logan’s charcoal eyes or run my hands through his soft brown hair. I’ll never give him a hard time about wearing sandals and shorts in the winter and he’ll never nag at me to lighten up. There never will be a wedding and we’ll never have the amazing wedding night he promised.
Burying my head in my hands I give myself over to the grief and heartbreak that comes with knowing my life is over.
2
Sophie
Outside the corner office window, dark rain clouds smother the fading sun. “Figures,” I mumble as I toast to my last sunset anyway. Four stories below, a dead man shambles down Main Street dragging his left arm behind him. Somehow he manages to avoid the overturned cars and debris in the weed-choked road.
Will I wander around like him when I’m a zombie?
I take a gulp of sherry from the miniature bottle I found inside the rustic oak desk ages ago. The sickly sweet liquid makes me gag and cough so hard I nearly fall off the squeaky leather office chair. I quickly glance at the floor-to-ceiling glass wall that separates my living space from the main office. Thankfully, I had the presence of mind to close the vertical blinds so none of the other survivors see me with my contraband.
Tore had expressly forbidden anyone from drinking alcohol. “Drinking makes you stupid, and stupid makes you dead,” he’d repeatedly told us in his gruff no-nonsense voice.
Just thinking of the handsome leader of our survivor group makes my chest tighten with a mixture of emotions I don’t want to examine. Trying to push him out of my mind, I look down at the letters resting on the top of the desk. The letter I just finished is for my mom, not that she’ll ever see it.
If I could only turn back time, I would have driven with her to pick up Nana in Phoenix instead of staying in Saguaro Valley to work out the finishing touches of my wedding. How was I supposed to know that the canine flu vaccine would turn everyone into zombies?
In truth, I don’t know if Mom, Nana, or Logan are alive. The last time I saw my mom was the night before she left for Phoenix and the last time I saw Logan was the morning before his bachelor party months ago.
Logan had looked so handsome that day. His mink-brown hair was slightly tousled in that I-just-got-out-of-bed way, and he’d worn a rumpled T-shirt from some indie band I’d never heard of.
“I promise to be on my best behavior tonight,” he’d said giving me a dimpled smile.
“You don’t have to,” I’d said lowering my voice so the other patrons in the coffee shop wouldn’t overhear us.
His eyes widened in shock. “What are you saying?”
“It’s your bachelor party.” I’d fiddled with my paper napkin afraid to meet his gaze. “You should cut loose.”
“Cut loose?” He sounded slightly horrified.
“Would it be so wrong if we each had one night where we…um, experimented a little?” My cheeks felt as if they were on fire, but I wasn’t going to take back my words. Logan and I were about to commit to each other for the rest of our lives. He, like me, had to be curious about what intimacy would be like with other people. Like Xander and Jack, my wicked inner voice whispered. I wasn’t talking about having sex, but maybe playing around a little…
“Are you having second thoughts about marrying me?” he asked softly.
Maybe. I looked down at my engagement ring. It’d been Sophie and Logan since seventh grade when he’d asked me to the school dance by shooting a paper airplane note at my head. I loved him, but I didn’t understand why he was in such a hurry to get married. We hadn’t finished college or even saved enough money for a place of our own. We were going to have to shack up with his freaky mother, a woman I barely tolerated on the best of days.
“Sophie?” He reached across the small table and cupped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You love me, right?”
Once snared in those familiar gray eyes, my mind blanked and I forgot all about my reservations. “Forget what I said. It’s a terrible idea. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re missing out.”
He smiled. “Missing out? Never. I’m crazy in love with you, woman.” Then he pulled me in for a deep kiss and that had been the end of that conversation. It’d also apparently been the last kiss I’d ever have.
Goodbye, Logan. I rest my hand on Logan’s letter. It sits on top of my notes to Jack and Xander. My heart throbs as their handsome faces flash in my mind. I’ll forever be grateful to them and Kevin for coming to protect me when the outbreak first hit.
Ah, Kevin. Regret claws at me. Maybe if I’d been quicker to warn him, he’d still be alive. Anguish clogs my throat as I rub the bite wound hidden under a bandage and my sweatshirt sleeve. It’s not fair. We’re way too young to
die.
Tore’s gruff voice plays in my mind. “Life’s not fucking fair, angel. Remember death’s always waiting around the corner.”
I forgot that and now I’ll pay the price. Taking a shuddering breath, I move my hand from the letters to the loaded pistol sitting in the middle of the desk. Now that I’ve written my goodbyes, it’s time to die.
I slowly place the cold barrel of the gun in my mouth. Ignoring the bitter taste of metal and gun oil, I put my finger on the trigger. Wait. It would be incredibly shitty of me to make the other survivors deal with my dead body and infected blood. I need to go somewhere else to kill myself.
Releasing the breath I’m holding, I stand and stuff the gun into the waistband of my cleanest pair of jeans. It’s a bit ridiculous that I’ve taken the time to give myself a sponge bath and change out of my bloodstained clothes. But since I’m about to meet my maker and all, it probably doesn’t hurt to look my best.
I give one last look around the small office and open the door.
Tore stands on the other side his beefy fist raised in the air as if he’d been about to knock.
My skin grows warm as the tall, muscular, olive-skinned man stares down at me. Can he tell I’m infected? “What’s up?”
“I want to be sure you’re okay. I’m sorry about you losing your friend today.” As he speaks, a lock of chestnut hair falls over his heavy brows. My hands itch to stroke it back, but I wouldn’t dare touch him. No one touches Tore.
“Um…thanks.”
“The others have gone up to the roof. They're having a memorial for Kevin.” He motions above us. “You should go.”
So that’s why it’s so quiet in the office. I peer around Tore’s huge bicep and see that the rows of cubicles behind him are empty. Jack and Xander are probably up there with the others. I’m such a chickenshit for writing them a note instead of saying goodbye in person, but I don't think I can handle their pain along with mine. “Thanks. I’ll pass.”