by Jenika Snow
She didn’t have a choice, but she could make the best of it.
6
Marius pushed away the overgrown branches, held a firm grip on his knife, and was on alert. It had been several weeks of him trekking north, not coming across anything but a few infected he’d taken out swiftly.
He knew they were no longer human, knew that even if they could feel anything, which he highly doubted, he was putting them out of their misery.
The sun was going to set in the next hour or so, and he didn’t feel confident in setting up camp. What he needed to do was get to higher ground, maybe ascend to the mountains. But that logic would most likely put him farther away from supplies, if there were any to be found.
There might be lakes higher up, ones with fish.
His stomach clenched at the thought. He was now surviving off crackers and the little water he had left, and if he didn’t find some substantial food soon, he didn’t know how much longer he could last.
For the next forty-five minutes, he climbed higher and higher, going over rocky terrain before it smoothed out and became softer with fallen leaves, patches of flora, and the trees surrounding him.
Sweat covered him, and he kept adjusting his bag on his back. The sound of a twig snapping in the distance had him stopping, holding his breath, and turning to survey the land. The trees were thick, blocking out a lot around him, but he listened, trying to hear anything out of the ordinary.
There might be animals scurrying about, but he didn’t take any chances. Reaching to the small of his back, he pulled out the handgun he tucked there and kept scanning the area.
The animals didn’t seem to be affected by the infection, for whatever reason, but that was good news for the healthy. That meant they could still hunt and find food in the wild.
When he didn’t see or hear anything, he turned back around and started moving up the mountain again. The air was getting thinner, and with the exertion he was putting out, it made breathing hard. And then the land leveled out, the trees thinned, and he was walking comfortably.
For another twenty minutes, he trekked through the forest. It was then, as he reached a cleared-out valley, that he saw a large farmhouse.
Fencing was all the way around it, thick wire fencing that would do well at keeping out the infected. He could also see from this angle a pond in the back, possibly stocked with fish, or so he hoped, trying to stay optimistic. A small greenhouse was close to the house, and there was even what looked like a coop and stable, but he didn’t see any animals within them.
He held his breath as he saw a woman walking toward the greenhouse. She had long, black hair, and as the wind picked up, it blew the strands around her shoulders. It had been a long fucking time since he’d seen a woman. Just as he went to step over a fallen log, the sound of something running toward him from behind filled Marius’s head.
He turned just as something crashed into him, sending him to the ground. The air left him as his head cracked back and landed on a rock. Lights danced in front of his vision, and he groaned. The weight atop him was heavy, crushing him to the ground, but Marius couldn’t afford to be knocked out, couldn’t afford to be vulnerable.
He blinked to clear his vision and saw a man sitting on his chest, his beard having pieces of debris in it, his face filthy, and his eyes wild. He was searching Marius and then turned him to try to get his backpack off.
That’s when Marius snapped out of it and started fighting back. The guy was big, but Marius was bigger, even malnourished. He used all his strength to push the man off enough that Marius could stand and face him.
Marius breathed out, shook off the dizziness that assaulted him, and reached down to grab his knife that had fallen from his hand. He had lost his gun in the process of getting knocked down and wasn’t about to waste time trying to find it, not right now at least.
The man stood, his eyes still holding that frantic, crazed look, and came toward Marius. He attacked him again, grunting, trying to grab for his pack. Marius pushed him off.
“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.”
The man chuckled humorlessly. “This world is all about hurt anymore. You either learn to take what you need to survive, or you deserve to die.” And then the man came after him again. They fell to the ground, grappling for control, rolling around, and trying to gain supremacy. Marius didn’t want to hurt anyone unless it was life or death, but he knew this was one of those situations.
And just as he was about to protect himself with the knife, doing what he had to, the bearded man pulled back enough Marius saw he also held a blade. Before Marius could react, the guy stabbed Marius in the side. He howled in agony, his eyes watering instantly as pain consumed him.
Marius just reacted then. He lifted his arm and plunged his own blade in the asshole’s gut. The man grunted, fell back, and held onto his stomach. When he lifted his head and stared at Marius, all that reflected back was insanity. The bearded man turned and left, stumbling over the debris on the ground.
Marius rose, grimacing as pain slammed into him from the movement. He held onto his side and then looked down. Blood covered his hand. He lifted his shirt up, saw the three-inch knife wound, and knew that if he didn’t get it cleaned and stitched up, he’d bleed out. He was already losing too much blood.
Stumbling forward and out of the woods, he walked into the clearing, his head feeling dizzy as he tried to focus. The woman stepped out of the greenhouse, a basket in her hands and her gaze on the ground.
He reached out, tried to open his mouth to tell her not to be afraid, that he needed help, but a wave of nausea and dizziness slammed into him harder than before. Marius stumbled forward, bracing his weight on one hand as he crashed to the ground. And as he lifted his head, trying to get her attention, he knew he’d probably die out here in this field.
7
The world doesn’t stop for anyone. It keeps spinning on its axis, the days turning into nights until it becomes one endless routine. Even if destruction is happening all around, the world is still there.
When civilization falls, the ones who dominated are now at the mercy of the elements, of fate. Once the highest tier was gone, nature took control again. The flora regained its rightful place, spreading out, taking over the land that was once populated with human life.
Maya wiped the sweat from her forehead. The sun was especially hot for an October day. She thought about how far she’d come, how much the world she once knew had changed, deteriorated.
She’d been here for a few months already and was acclimating well to being alone—well, as much as one could be used to that. The isolation, silence, and loneliness still ate away at her at times, even if she had Sherman to keep her company.
She held onto her basket tighter, the little woven one that held the herbs she just picked. Her basil was thriving, and although it was still on the warmer side, the weather ideal, she kept everything in her greenhouse once fall started.
Maya headed back to the main house, the two-story farmhouse that sat on three acres of wooded land. It was high in the mountains, away from civilization, from the small town below. She rarely ventured out anymore, relying on what she could grow, what she could get from the land, and the food she found stocked in the cellar.
Firewood was abundant to help keep her warm during the cold nights, and the well gave her fresh water. After the last few months of being alone, of relying on herself and seeing how she could survive, Maya felt confident in the way she lived.
She walked toward the house, a soft wind blowing. Leaves had already started falling, and the scent of autumn was thick in the air. She hadn’t seen a human in far longer than she could even remember, hadn’t seen an infected in longer than that. But that was good, because both the healthy and the infected could be dangerous to her.
Being this high up in the mountains, away from anything remotely reminding her of the world she once lived in, could have a person thinking the world wasn’t completely gone. She stayed up here, hopin
g, praying a cure would come for the infected. At least she was trying to stay positive, even if in her heart she knew the end was probably not going to have a happy outcome.
But depressing topics, ones that reminded her she was utterly alone in every sense of the word, and having no other human contact, having no one to speak with, hold, made Maya’s thoughts go to things like her family being gone, and that she could die at any moment.
She continued to make her way toward the house, the wind picking up again and the sun shining down. This high up, the air was cooler, and with fall already here and winter fast approaching, she was trying to make sure she was stocked up enough to survive the cold.
It would be a damn shame to have gone through all of that, lost everything, but make it here safely, only to die because she’d frozen or starved to death.
Maya pushed her hair off her shoulder, glanced around the property, and as she trailed her eyes back toward the house, something had her stopping midstride. Her heart starting pounding in her chest as she tried to make out what the dark form was on the ground.
It wasn’t moving, and she couldn’t tell if it was an infected or a healthy human trying to sneak up on the house, trying to be stealthy.
But as the seconds ticked by and there was still no movement, she started to realize it couldn’t be an infected. They would have been able to smell her, would have made noise because their frantic need to feed would have taken over.
Setting the basket on the ground slowly, she kept her eyes on the form but then started scanning the surrounding area, making sure no one was hiding in the woods. Everything seemed so still, so silent.
Grabbing the strap of her father’s shotgun she always had hanging over her back, she started moving toward the person, trying to keep close to the structure. She also had a knife strapped to her ankle and another to her thigh. She couldn’t be too careful.
The closer she got, the more the adrenaline pumped through her veins, giving her a boost of energy, making her ready to run or attack. She was close enough now she could see it wasn’t an infected on the ground, or at least it wasn’t one who had the signs of rotting.
But she was still cautious, still had her gun at the ready. Creeping closer, she heard Sherman inside barking. He probably sensed something was wrong, but Maya was glad she left him inside. She didn’t want anything happening to him. He was all she had left now.
And then she saw the blood that covered the man’s side, saw that his face was ashen and his breathing barely even noticeable. Going closer, she cleared her throat.
“If you make a move, I’ll shoot you, and believe me, I’m a decent shot.” The warning was for her as much as it was for him.
But the man didn’t move. His dark hair was longer, unkempt, and he was filthy from head to toe. He’d been on the road a long time; she could gauge as much. When he didn’t move at her warning, she went closer and then crouched beside him. Holding the gun out and pressing it to his head, she gave another warning, just in case.
“If you’re playing opossum, I suggest you cut the shit now or you’ll have a nice hole in your head.” She sounded and was acting far stronger than she really was, but she couldn’t be too careful in this fucked-up world. He didn’t move or even twitch, not even with the gun to his head. Keeping the barrel at his temple, she looked around and tried to see if there was anything in the woods.
Silence greeted her.
Maya was convinced enough he wasn’t playing dead, so she took the gun away from his head and looked down at his wound. She assumed she’d see a bite mark, but when she pulled the t-shirt up it was to see a large gash.
A knife wound.
This was fresh, because no way he would have been able to trek all the way up here from town with a wound like that.
Maya stood, aimed the gun at the woods, and started sweeping it back and forth, ready to shoot anything that came out. But as she stood there for long moments, barely breathing so she could hear, she had a feeling she was alone. Whoever had done this to him wasn’t here anymore, and the sooner she got back inside, the better.
Looking down at the stranger, she thought—for only a second—that she should just leave him here. She wasn’t a nurse or a doctor by any means but could patch up a few things, yet this man could be a rapist for all she knew, could have been bitten and infected.
The longer she stared at him, the more her compassion grew. She couldn’t just leave him, couldn’t go inside and let him die out here. At least if he died inside, she would have tried her best to help him and could have a clear conscience.
Slinging the gun across her back again, she reached under his arms and started dragging him to the house. He was heavy, a tall man, and getting him to the front door was a pain in the ass.
But when she was finally in the house, she took a step back, breathing hard, and looked down at him. He hadn’t so much as made a move or sound, and she feared he wouldn’t last much longer if she didn’t try to close and heal the laceration.
She’d try to help him, because to her, she didn’t have any other option.
8
The pain was what woke Marius up. It was searing, burning, took control of his entire body, and had him groaning. There was something tight on his side, something that was pulling every time he took a breath. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and everything in his body ached.
Slowly opening his eyes, Marius had to blink at the dim lighting. It was just a glow from a candle beside him, but it seemed so bright, as if he looked directly into the sun. Scanning around the room, he was confused as to where he was.
It was a bedroom, one that had a few pictures of flower silhouettes hanging on the wall and a chair pushed in the corner with a blanket over it.
He was confused and so damn tired and didn’t know where the hell he was. The low growl that came from in front of him had Marius rising up just enough that he could see the floor in front of the bedroom door.
An older black lab sat in front of the partially open door, his teeth bared, his focus on Marius. The pain in his body was there, but he gritted his teeth and pushed it away.
Then the door opened all the way, and Marius instantly went on alert.
“Easy or you’ll tear the stitches,” the woman said in a soft voice.
She had long, dark hair, and he instantly remembered seeing her. She’d been leaving a greenhouse, and he’d been just a few feet from a large farmhouse. But then he’d been attacked. Closing his eyes and breathing out, he tried to think of what happened after he’d been stabbed.
He opened his eyes and looked at her as she neared. She held a tray with medical supplies on it, but she wouldn’t keep eye contact with him. He didn’t know if she had the supplies stockpiled or if she found them when scavenging, but he was thankful nonetheless.
“And just so you know, if you try anything, my dog will rip your throat out, right after I shoot you.” She lifted a handgun he hadn’t noticed she held.
He nodded. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, but she had no reason to believe him. Times were hard for everyone, but being a woman was even more so. Men were desperate, willing to do anything they wanted to a helpless female. But this woman didn’t seem so helpless at all. She screamed strength yet was still compassionate enough to help a stranger in this fucked-up world.
She nodded but kept the gun close. He was glad, because he didn’t want her to feel threatened by him. It had been so long since he’d seen anyone willing to help, and even longer since he’d seen a woman.
The last woman he’d seen had been the fellow scientist who had gotten infected, and that had been months ago he killed her.
They stayed silent, and he watched as she set the tray on the bedside table. The dog stayed close to her and kept his gaze trained on Marius. He was loyal, and Marius had no doubts he’d rip his throat out if he felt Marius was a threat to the woman.
When she faced him again and looked right in his eyes, his heart stopped for a second. Her eyes were this vibrant green c
olor, and the longer he stared at her, took in the creaminess of her skin, the way her figure was visible through her clothing, had the male part of him, and the fact that he hadn’t seen a woman in far too long, rise up in him.
He felt heat move through him, that familiar twinge of arousal that had been lost for a long fucking time.
He should feel guilty he was so aroused by this woman who he didn’t even have a name to go with her face. But it was a natural, instant reaction, not one Marius particularly had gone for, and in all honesty, he was surprised he could even feel desire after getting stabbed.
Closing his eyes and breathing out, he remembered it all now with startling clarity. “The man who stabbed me ran off into the woods.” He opened his eyes and looked at her. “I wounded him, but he was insane enough that it looked like it didn’t affect him that much.”
She nodded. “So many people have gone off the deep end, and I only see it getting worse.”
She had a point. The end of the world, so to speak, changed people, and not always for the better.
“I’m glad to see you’re awake though,” she said as she focused on the tray of alcohol, gauzes, and ointment.
“How long have I been out?”
“Three days, but you’ve been in and out of it. Thank God, because during those times I was able to get you to drink some broth and water.”
Three fucking days? Shit.
“I honestly didn’t think you’d make it.” She held no emotion in her voice. It was more clinical, as if this was a job she was performing. “But I stitched up your wound, gave you some of the antibiotics I had on hand, which in all honesty helped in saving your life, and just waited to see if you’d wake.”
He looked down at his abdomen, pushed the sheet lower, and saw she had stitched him up. “You saved my life.” Looking back at her, he saw she was looking at him again. “Thank you. I almost lost hope in humanity.”