by Bianca D'Arc
“I like your sister. She seems like a gutsy woman.”
“Gutsy enough to become a county cop in the face of our dad’s disapproval,” he agreed. “I have to admit, even I wasn’t entirely comfortable with her choice of profession. I was raised to believe the man did the protecting and the woman did the nurturing.”
“Why can’t both sexes do both?” she challenged him. That was something he was coming to really enjoy about their exchanges. “After all, even in the most basic terms, the female is always involved in protecting the young as well as nurturing. And men have always been teachers of the next generation. That’s nurturing in my book.”
“Good point, but you don’t know my dad. He’s formidable and, in his little world, his daughter becoming a cop was a sacrilege. I like to think he’s come to terms with it by now, but I’m not sure. I know I had a rude awakening when I found out Sarah was part of the top-secret covert team I’d been invited to join. Hell, my little sister is the reason I got this gig.” He had to laugh. “It was a shocker.”
“I bet.” She looked amused at his expense but he didn’t really mind.
He opened the car door. Their intimate talk was over and it was time to go back to work. They worked well together over the next twenty minutes, quietly moving into the small, rustic cabin. He left her organizing their food supplies while he did a circuit of the woods surrounding their cabin before it got too dark to see.
They were well situated—on the border of the Bemkey estate’s lands and close to the lakeshore. The nearest cabins were somewhat visible through the trees but far enough away to give them a lot of privacy. The woods provided a natural screen that shielded their cabin from easy view of the others. It was the perfect setup to do some quiet surveillance of the estate next door.
When he was satisfied they were secure, he returned to their cabin. Donna was waiting for him on the small front porch.
“Is it okay to walk down to the lake? After all that driving, I need to stretch my legs.”
John thought about it, looking around. They were reasonably close to the lake. He could see the water’s edge through the trees from the cabin’s porch.
“It should be okay. Don’t venture too far into the woods, just in case. I haven’t gotten any reports of missing people in the area, but if Dr. Bemkey really is in residence and doing research here, you never know what could be hiding in the woods.”
She shivered, rubbing her arms. “I’ll stick to the lakeshore. I just want to walk a bit. I won’t be more than ten or fifteen minutes.”
“Fair enough.” John nodded at her as she passed him going down the stairs to the dirt path leading to the lake. “I’m going to check in with base and fire up the laptop.”
“See you in a little bit.” She waved over her shoulder as she headed toward the lake.
Sunset was just beginning over one side of the lake, casting a rosy glow over the water. It really was beautiful. John watched her progress out the front windows of the cabin as he puttered around inside. Every few minutes he looked out to see how she was doing. He couldn’t help it. He was protective of her. Maybe even a little overprotective. It was part of his nature and upbringing to protect women, even those who could take care of themselves.
She’d held up well so far. Even after the fiasco in San Francisco, she’d bounced back better than he’d expected. She realized she’d made the wrong move there and learned from her mistakes. He’d done a lot of stupid things as a young Marine and even on his first few ops for the agency. The critical thing was that she’d learned from the experience. He could work with that.
He made the call to their team leader, Commander Matt Sykes, at Fort Bragg. They talked for a few minutes about the setup in Tennessee and the situation at Fort Bragg, then ended the call with a promise to report immediately should anything change. John peered out the window to see Donna skipping stones on the mirrored surface of the calm lake. She was pretty good at it too.
Satisfied that she was okay, he powered up the laptop and settled by the front window to do more research into local police reports and newspapers. Missing persons reports would be a good start. They could be an indicator that Dr. Bemkey was up to her old tricks, but so far he hadn’t found anything suspicious.
Night fell in earnest while he worked. He heard a commotion and looked out the window to find Donna struggling with someone—or something—down by the lake. It had her by the arm, but even as he rose from his chair, she broke free using one of the martial arts moves he’d taught her. She ran. From the way the being pursued her with a disturbingly lurching gait, he assumed the worst.
The zombies had found them.
Chapter Two
John dove for the small locker that contained their weapons and the special toxic darts. Working fast, he unlocked the case, threw open the lid, and grabbed a pistol and two clips, loading the specially made handgun even as he ran for the door.
He was out in the woods before Donna had made it halfway to the cabin. The creature was about half that distance behind her. John passed her, firing on the run, being sure not to get too close. Even a scratch from that creature could mean his death.
“How many?” he asked when he realized Donna had stopped and stood just behind him, breathing hard.
“Just the one.” She gulped in air as he scanned the woods. “One minute I was watching the sunset, the next that guy was next to me. Moaning.” He saw her shiver out of the corner of his eye.
John walked backwards as the zombie kept coming at them through the woods.
“Keep an eye out behind us. I don’t want to get boxed in if there are more of them hiding in the trees.” He heard her gasp as she realized they were now alone in the darkening woods with at least one zombie on their trail. They both knew that where there was one, there very well could be more.
“I don’t see anything.” She was whispering, keeping pace with him as he walked backwards. He could feel her body heat against his back, though they touched only occasionally. She was facing forward, toward the cabin, watching their path while he followed, watching the zombie that continued to stalk them.
“He should be crumbling any minute if what they say is true.” He backed onto the porch as the zombie drew closer, following them right up to the cabin.
“They?”
“The guys back at Bragg. I got detailed briefings and simulations, but I’ve never faced one of these creatures in the flesh before. I wasn’t supposed to. They put me on research, remember?”
He grinned, glancing back to catch the dismay written all over her face. Damn. Maybe he shouldn’t have reminded her that he wasn’t the immune one on this team. He opened his mouth to say more, but the zombie chose that very moment to crumble in front of them.
It was a weird sort of end. He’d heard about it, of course, but nothing could really prepare a person for seeing a human being—or what had once been a human being—dissolve before his very eyes. The guy sort of imploded, starting at the sites where the darts had hit home, until all that was left was a small pile of rags and something that looked like slime.
He heard Donna gasp as the zombie became goo. After checking the woods visually a final time, he turned to her.
“Come here.” John tugged her shaking body into his arms. “It’s over now, sweetheart. You’re safe.” She clung to him, her slim fingers fisting in the fabric that covered his chest. He didn’t mind. She was shaking like a leaf. He needed to comfort her. It was an imperative in his soul.
His head dipped lower as he nuzzled her soft hair. She lifted her face to meet his gaze and he was lost. He had to taste her. That little teasing peck in the car had cost him deeply. He hadn’t stopped thinking about kissing her for real. Taking it deeper, learning her flavor, and what made her sigh in pleasure.
He lowered his head, capturing her lips with his. Yes. This was what he wanted. He pushed his tongue inward and she opened for him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She tasted of rising passion, a hint of re
sidual fear, and something that made him yearn for more. He’d never get enough of her.
But he couldn’t do this. Not really. His life was lived fast and loose. No strings. Ever.
This girl could be a major entanglement. She had complication written all over her. Still, she was sweet to kiss and fit in his arms like she’d been made to belong there.
It was okay to offer her comfort. If he got a rise in his Levi’s out of the deal, no harm done. He could help her forget the trauma of the last few minutes and taste the forbidden fruit of her luscious young body while he was at it. He wouldn’t let it go too far. A few kisses was all he’d allow. That’s all he could allow.
A few more minutes of her soft, yielding body against his. That’s all he could take. Then he’d let her go and never touch her again. It was better for her. Better for his peace of mind too. Donna was too young for him, too innocent. He’d seen too much of the seamy side of life. He’d done too much. Killed too many people. He was no good for her. Never would be.
He let her go by slow degrees, pulling his lips from hers with great difficulty. Damn, she was sweet. He could almost taste the innocence of her. It was a dangerous flavor. Nothing for him to mess with. He could only tarnish her beauty.
He looked down at her, taking a few moments to gaze into her eyes. It would be the last time he saw that glazed look on her face if he had any willpower at all.
“We’d better go inside, patch you up, and call the cavalry.” The change of subject worked. She looked down at herself and the deep scratches on her arm in dawning horror.
“Oh my God, John. You shouldn’t have touched me. I need to decontaminate everything.” She looked at him with wide, terrified eyes. “I bled all over you. Take off your shirt.”
“Now that’s what I like to hear.” He gave her a wink to lighten the mood as he unbuttoned his shirt. “I’ll strip for you anytime, baby.”
“Be serious. This could be really bad, John. Go inside and get the decon kit. It’s in the red bag. Don’t touch anything else. Just get that and come right back out. I’ll decontaminate you, then do the rest while you call for a real decontamination team.”
“Yeah.” He looked around at the remains. “I guess we’re going to need a decon team all our own if this is any indication.”
He loped into the cabin and spotted the red bag. He picked it up with two fingers and returned to the porch as ordered. It amused him, the way she’d taken charge. He knew she’d been trained in proper decontamination protocol. She had a science background, so he guessed the procedures hadn’t been too hard for her to pick up. He’d had a rudimentary course in the same stuff, but he wasn’t immune and he wasn’t part of a combat or decon team, so he hadn’t really paid much attention.
“Open the bag and spill the contents onto this chair.” She pointed to one of the plastic patio chairs that graced their tiny front porch. He did as she asked and stepped back as she decontaminated her hands first, using two of the wipes that had been supplied in abundance. She disposed of the specially prepared wipes, putting them in a neat pile to deal with later, then turned to him. “Some of my blood seeped through your shirt. Let me just wipe the area. Hold out your right arm, please.”
He did as ordered, trying not to laugh when she started at his ribs and worked her way upward. Few people in the world knew he was ticklish.
“Sorry. I know this is cold. It’s the alcohol base in the cleaning solution.” She looked up at him as she worked, touching his bare chest and arm with her delicate fingers. It was all he could do to not tug her back into his arms and finish what they’d started.
She was done before he lost total control, thank goodness.
“Could you start a fire in the fireplace? I need to burn these wipes when I’m done and your shirt. And my clothes.” She looked at her torn blouse with distaste as she stepped back, out of his personal space. “I can check the remains for I.D.,” she offered.
“Only if it won’t put you at risk, Donna.” He was adamant on that point.
She shrugged. “I’m immune. Hell, the first time, I woke up in a pile of goo. I don’t think the remains can hurt me. But I’ll be careful to decontaminate everything before I bring anything inside. Because this could really hurt you, John. Hurt as in kill you dead and turn you into one of them. I won’t let that happen if I can help it, so you follow my orders when it comes to decon, okay?”
He gave her a jaunty salute. “Yes, ma’am. I like it when you go all militant on me.”
She laughed, as he’d intended, and he left her on the porch while he got the fire going and called in the incident to their base. He kept one eye on her the whole time, wary in case there were more of the creatures out there. She’d done well tonight, but she’d gotten injured. He didn’t like that at all. The deep gouges in her arm pained him to look at, yet she carried on, doing her job and not complaining. She had more grit than he’d thought. She soldiered on when she had to, which was important. The more he got to know her, the more he found to admire in her character. Not only was she beautiful, she was smart and brave too.
John’s eyes almost bugged out of his head when she stripped down to her underwear right there on the porch. Her bra-and-panty set covered her reasonably well, but the sight of all that bare skin sent his pulse into overdrive. She was even more gorgeous than he’d imagined. Full breasts, a tiny waist, and the most delectable ass he’d ever seen. Damn. She’d been hiding that figure under loose clothing. He’d known she was fit, but her body was that of a goddess. At least to him. He’d always been an ass man and hers was about as perfect as it could get.
She carried the bundle of used wipes into the room, going straight to the fireplace. The blaze was going really well and she wasted no time placing the used white squares on the fire. They went up in little blazes of blue-green flame, powered by the alcohol and whatever other chemicals were in the wipes. He’d made sure the chimney was working properly, taking the smoke well away from them to dissipate harmlessly in the dark night sky.
The way he understood it, once the contagion was exposed to high temperature, of a fire in this case, the contagion came apart and could not reconstitute. It was rendered harmless. So burning was the method of choice for getting rid of anything that could possibly be contaminated.
Donna bent over, poking the fire, and John’s mouth watered at the view. She straightened and went back out onto the porch before he could make a total fool of himself. Then she came back with his shirt, dumping that onto the fire in small pieces.
“How did you rip that up?” he asked, curious. The shirt had been heavy cotton. He’d have had trouble ripping it. There’s no way she could have…unless there was more to this immunity thing than he’d been told.
“There was a small scissors in the decon kit. Thick cotton like this rips pretty easy once you get it started. See?” She held up a bit of the sleeve and tugged on a tear. The fabric made a soft ripping sound as it tore easily for her. “I figured it would be easier to burn this in small sections rather than dumping it all on at once. It could have smothered the fire.”
“Good thinking.” His mouth was as dry as a desert. Seeing her prance around in her undies had that effect. That effect, and others. He kept the couch between them so she wouldn’t see his rather blatant response to her near nudity.
“I found a wallet in the pocket of the man’s trousers.” Her words diverted his attention. “I took out his driver’s license and something called a ‘Frequent Fisher Card’ issued from this place. He’s a regular. It’s got stamps from the last three years, all around this time of year.” She headed back to the porch. “I’ll wipe the items down as a precaution, then you can have them.”
He went to the laptop computer he’d set up by the window. “What was the guy’s name?”
“Bill Wallace.” She carefully wiped each card and bill that had been in the wallet. He could see her through the open window as she paid strict attention to detail. Her science background was showing. “His busines
s cards say he was an assistant vice president for something called Praxis Air.”
John pulled up the man’s background information on the computer. “He looks clean as near as I can tell from a quick search,” he told her through the window screen. “Poor guy. Probably a bad case of wrong place, wrong time.”
“Everything is wet. Don’t you think that’s odd?” she asked, finishing up. She came back inside and deposited the now clean articles from the wallet on the small table next to the laptop. “It’s like the guy went swimming before he decided to hassle me.”
“I have no idea what it means. I just hope we won’t have a bunch of zombie fish menacing the lake.” He chuckled at his own joke.
“It doesn’t work that way, from what I’ve been told. It’s human-specific gene altering. It can’t cross species. They made sure of it when they designed it. Humans only.”
“Lucky us.”
“Well, in a way it is. Those zombie fish could cause quite a problem otherwise.” She went back out to the porch a final time and brought in the last pile of refuse. The man’s remains would stay on the porch until the cleanup team arrived the following day.
Donna squatted before the fire, sending the new stack of used wipes up in flames a few at a time. When she was finished with the used wipes, she took out a few fresh ones and did a final cleansing of her hands and arms, burning those as well.
John settled on the couch behind her, unable to stop himself from looking his fill. She glared at him over her shoulder as she worked.
“Stop staring at my ass,” she muttered in warning.
He had to laugh. “How can I help myself when you’re prancing around half naked? I’d have to be dead not to notice your smokin’ hot bod.”
A tingle went down her spine at his words. That hadn’t sounded like teasing. His words had been edged with frustration. Had she caused that?