by Siara Brandt
“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Dev whispered beside Bram. “You have to wonder where they’re coming from or where they’re going.”
It was a good question, one that they didn’t have an answer to. The undead just wandered aimlessly, without any rhyme or reason that they could tell. There was no way of knowing how or why they ended up where they did.
“Something’s in that shed,” Jonah said, nodding in the direction of the shed. “There’s four of ‘em surrounding it. We need to check it out. Somebody could be trapped in there. Could even be Kate and her boys.”
He was right. They had to check it out. But another hold up wasn’t good, Bram thought. He didn’t want to be out here another night. Night’s got downright creepy in the open.
They made their way down the hill and took out the zombies with military precision, with as little noise as possible. And miraculously, without alerting the ones gathered under the trees.
Jonah stopped and held up his hand as he approached the shed door. Something inside was making sounds that didn’t sound quite human.
It sounded almost like cat sounds, like a soft mewling.
Silently, Jonah mouthed, “On three.”
One . . . two . . . three.
The three men burst inside the open door and stopped dead in their tracks.
Dev muttered an oath.
Bram just stared.
They were men who had an edge. They were well-armed, well-fed and they had experience in warfare. They were more prepared than a lot of people. But they weren’t prepared for what was waiting for them in the shed.
“WE SHOULDN’T HAVE LEFT HER.”
Arlend looked at his son and said, “There was nothing we could have done.”
When Arlend had seen those zombies falling all over each other to get to Vayna, he had been too terrified to do anything. And when that lion had appeared, or what had looked like a lion . . .
“What else could we have done?” Arlend tried reasoning with his distraught son. “We’re alive.”
Ryland looked sharply at his father. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“At least it wasn’t the lion,” Arlend tried to console him. Maybe it wasn’t the best thing to bring up, but he didn’t know what else to say.
“What difference would it have made?” Ryland asked through his gritted teeth. Zombies or lions, they both meant horrible deaths.
Arlend had the good sense to bow his head. “She’s gone now. And we would have both been killed, too. They were all over her. It was quick,” he lied. He had no idea how she had really died. He hadn’t stayed around long enough to know. He just thought it was important to give Ryland some closure.
Ryland eyes were tightly closed. Just hearing it, just imagining it, was almost more than he could bear.
“No one could have survived that,” Arlend assured him quietly.
But Ryland was far from being consoled. For the first time since this had all started, he understood those people who had said they wished they were dead, too, that the grief and sorrow of losing loved ones was too painful, too much to bear. His mother had always had a fear of lions. And that had been no ordinary lion. What if she hadn’t been killed outright? What if it really had only gone after her? What if it was stalking her now? She could still be out there, hurt and afraid and alone. She might be calling his name, desperately trying to hide, waiting for him to come save her. The thought was so distressing to him that he buried his face in his hands and after a great sob, stayed that way for a long time.
He wasn’t convinced she was dead. He wasn’t sure about a lot of things. His father’s vision wasn’t as good as his was, especially in the dark. If Ryland hadn’t been able to see her in the darkness and the driving rain, how could his father have seen her so clearly? He must have been mistaken and only thought he saw her.
There was only one thing that kept him going and he didn’t tell his father what that was.
“She’s gone, Ryland.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” he said in a grief-stricken voice, trying hard to suppress his rising anger, anger that was there because his father seemed to accept her death so easily.
“Yes, I do. She was surrounded.”
“I’m going back.”
“What?” Arlend gasped outright as if he thought he hadn’t heard him right.
Go back? There was nothing but death back there.
But Arlend correctly read the look on his son’s face. “Ryland!” he said sharply. “I’m not going to let you do that.”
Arlend had a sinking feeling as he continued to look at the anguish on his son’s face. He had to do everything he could to talk him out of such a foolish decision. “We’ll- miss her,” he said. “But we’re alive. We need to stay that way. It’s what she would have wanted.”
“I shouldn’t have left her,” Ryland repeated in a voice scarcely above a whisper.
“There’s nothing you could have done.”
“There was plenty I could have done.”
“You’re not thinking clearly. We barely made it here in one piece. You can’t eat yourself up with guilt over something you had no control over. Do you think she would have wanted you to do that?
“If we would have stayed at the condo- ” Arlend tried reasoning with him again. “It was your mother’s idea to leave, and that’s what got her killed.”
“Don’t blame her for that. Not now,” Ryland said in a hoarse voice, a threatening voice, a voice Arlend had never heard before.
Realizing he might have gone too far, Arlend said, “I’m not going to let you go back there. It’s too dangerous.”
“She wouldn’t have left me,” was all Ryland had to say.
Arlend had nothing to say to that, no good argument, so he changed the subject. “We can’t stay here in the open like this. We need to find some kind of shelter for the night.”
Ryland agreed. An abandoned vehicle seemed to be their best bet, at least for a short term shelter. There were several of those around. They just had to find one that was unlocked. Or else they would have to break into it.
Arlend patted his pocket. Damn, he’d lost his cigarettes somewhere and, after all he’d been through, he needed a smoke badly.
Part of him was worried because Ryland wasn’t making eye contact with him now. Somewhere, deep inside him, Arlend knew he should feel some kind of guilt for what he’d done, leaving Vayna behind like that when she had been calling for him to help her. Maybe he should feel some remorse, but he didn’t. Guilt, in particular, was a messy emotion, one he had tried all his life to avoid. And the truth of it was that it had been him or her. He could have been the one torn apart by those ghouls. Or that lion. And why would his death have been preferable?
He made one last attempt to make Ryland see reason. “I’ll never make it back there.”
“I know,” Ryland murmured, still not looking at him.
“My feet are blistered now. I can’t go another step.”
“Yes.”
Ryland already knew that his father would never make it back there, even if he tried. But there was only one decision Ryland could live with, before they got any further away, before any more time passed.
After making sure his father was safe and had some food to eat, he pretended to go to sleep. Then he scratched off a note saying that he would be back as soon as he could. When daylight was just beginning to lighten the sky to a deep blue, he slipped off by himself into the semi-darkness and made his way back to the city.
He had to go back. He didn’t know what he would find when he did get back there. But he had to know. She wouldn’t have done any less for him.
Chapter 11
The smell of smoke woke Emma. Confused for a moment by her unfamiliar surroundings, she controlled her instinctive, initial reaction to jump out of bed when she did remember where she was. Instead, she stayed huddled in the blanket until she knew what was going on.
The man was sitting at the open win
dow looking out. There were ashes floating on the air outside, but whatever was on fire, he didn’t seem concerned.
Pretending to be asleep, she continued to study him. The early morning light gleamed on hair that was black as midnight. He was dressed almost entirely in black tactical gear. His pants had lots of pockets and were tucked into a pair of military boots.
The first impression she had was of the man’s raw masculinity. How could she not notice that with the man’s size and those wide shoulders and the dark beard stubble shadowing his cheeks and chin? There were several side arms resting in leather holsters on his thighs and hips. Other weapons were strapped to his boots.
Armed to the teeth, he looked imposing, threatening, lethal. Looking at him now, she realized she hadn’t stood a chance against him last night.
She almost jumped out of her skin when he asked, “You awake now?”
There was no point in pretending to be asleep now, so she pushed back the blanket and swung her legs to the edge of the bed.
She watched warily as he stretched his arms leisurely over his head and said, “That was one of the best night’s sleep I’ve had had in a long time. I needed it.”
When she didn’t answer, he turned his face and looked at her, his dark gray eyes sweeping her assessingly. “You must have had a good night’s sleep, too.”
“What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously.
“You snored your way through the worst of that storm last night.”
She stared back at him. How considerate of him to point that out.
“Are you saying that I kept you awake?”
“No, I was so tired I would have slept through a hurricane,” he answered her.
He turned back to the window, leaving her nothing to do but to stare silently at his broad, black back.
“It’s a good thing we stayed here last night. There must have been a dozen of those things out there last night. They’ve thinned out some.”
She made no comment about that, but asked, “What’s burning?”
“House down the street. I’ve been watching to make sure it doesn’t spread.”
Setting a coffee cup aside, he got up from his chair and walked across the room where he leaned over to look into the mirror hanging on the wall. He turned his face to one side to study a dark bruise on his jaw, one that she realized she might very well have put there.
Frowning critically at his reflection a moment longer, in a typically male gesture, he ran a hand across his unshaven jaw.
What next, Emma wondered. What was he going to do now?
Straightening from his brief assessment of the damage she’d done last night, Reyne winced inwardly at his rough appearance. He already knew he looked pretty rough. Rough enough to scare an already-frightened young lady, no matter how unaffected she was trying to act. And even though he might need a shave and a haircut, he hoped she realized that there were a lot worse men she could have run into. That she had survived the night unmolested should have proven that to her, but he wasn’t sure what she was thinking at the moment.
Without turning, he glanced at her reflection in the mirror, and said, “I made some coffee, and there’s some water in the sink and in the tub in the bathroom, if you want to wash up.”
How had he managed that feat? Emma wondered.
He answered the question in her eyes. “There’s usually still some water in the water heaters. We’re lucky. This house has two water heaters. Take your time,” he added. “Take a bath if you want to. I was about to go have another look around downstairs.”
He correctly read the look on her face. “The water’s clean. I already washed up downstairs.”
While his eyes followed her, she disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She was grateful to discover that there was indeed clean water in the sink and in the bathtub. How he had managed that without waking her up, she had no idea. She must have been more exhausted than she realized.
She leaned forward, assessing herself in the mirror as she began to take her hair down. It fell about her shoulders in a disorderly mass. It really needed to be cut so it wouldn’t be a hindrance, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to actually do it. Did she dare wash it? She stared at the closed door for a while. A bath did sound like heaven. It had been a long time since she’d been able to chance one.
She found some shampoo and conditioner and did a thorough lather and rinse of her hair. Then she wrapped it in a clean towel to dry. Half an hour later she emerged from the bathtub. And the bathroom.
The bedroom was empty, but the door was open. Had the man left? she wondered. It wouldn’t be the first time she had been left behind without so much as a good-bye.
“So what’s your plan?”
She jumped when she heard the man’s voice from the open doorway.
“My plan?” she echoed as he stepped back into the bedroom.
“You’re trying to get out of the city, right?”
She nodded a little uncertainly. She was more than a little leery about giving this man too much information.
“My plan was just to get to this house and rest for the night. Beyond that, I- ” she began vaguely. “I’m keeping my options open.”
“Uh huh. Well, there’s no doubt that in a world where the dead aren’t staying dead, things are constantly fluid. But in case you haven’t noticed, we’re not on top of the food chain anymore and I’ve already discovered that there’s no easy way out of the city. Not to mention that with no law enforcement to stop the bad guys from doing whatever they want anymore, things can turn bad in a moment when you’re least expecting it. That means you’d better have some kind of a plan.”
Oh, it was a dangerous world out there all right. And although he didn’t say it out loud, he was already starting to feel responsible for her, which was one more problem he didn’t need. But leaving someone behind had never felt right, no matter what part of the world he had been in. Helping civilians was part of what he had been trained to do. A zombie apocalypse hadn’t changed that.
He had survived enemy fire halfway around the world. Many times. He didn’t plan to die now that he was back in the States. He looked at her critically, realized he didn’t plan on letting her die, either. She was obviously on her own and she had been living hard for some time now. She had some survival skills, or she wouldn’t be alive. She was wisely dressed in clothing that would offer her some protection from bites. She was wearing arm and leg protectors made from UV foam. Some pretty ingenious designing on her part. It was lightweight and flexible.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked nervously.
“Honestly? You’re lucky to be alive. But without me I doubt you’re going to stay that way.”
Her gaze flew to his face. She watched him warily from beneath lashes that were impossibly long and black as soot as her whole body stiffened indignantly. “I’m a grown woman,” she began.
Yeah, he had noticed that.
“And for your information, I’ve been making my own decisions for a long time.”
“I don’t doubt that, honey,” he said with a shrug. “All I can say is that if you have a death wish, then by all means don’t accept my offer.”
She stared at him open-mouthed like he was a panther about to pounce. But he surprised her by asking, “When’s the last time you ate something?”
She didn’t answer him. She turned partially away and frowned. The truth was, it had been a while.
“I’ve got some food in my pack,” he said as he unzipped his backpack to reveal an assortment of foods that immediately made her mouth water. “Take whatever you want. You look like you could use it.”
The truth was, she was starving. There was no sense lying about it. This zombie apocalypse had put her on an unexpected crash diet and she’d lost a lot of weight. Hunger had been gnawing at her stomach for a long time. So with trembling fingers, she picked up a bag of granola and kept a watchful eye on him while she ate it.
It might
just be granola, but the food tasted better than anything she’d had in a very long time. She was not comfortable, however, with the fact that he had been the one to give it to her. He made her feel uncomfortable in some undefinable way. For one thing, she didn’t want to owe him, and she especially didn’t want him to think she couldn’t take care of herself, which made no sense at all.
She didn’t know what it was about the man that got under her skin. Maybe it was his attitude. It wasn’t exactly arrogance. She couldn’t call it that. And it wasn’t conceit, although he seemed very sure of himself. She admitted to herself that in another time, another place, she might have been attracted to him. He was very good looking. In fact, she’d never met a man who appealed to her on such a physical level. But none of that mattered anymore, she reminded herself. He could be the best looking man left in the world and it wouldn’t mean a thing.
Completely against her will, she found herself remembering the feel of his heavily-muscled arms and his broad chest as he’d held her against him last night. And when she recalled the uncompromising strength of his abs and his thighs, she felt confused, flushed and completely out of her element.
Thank goodness he was not looking at her at the moment. The morning light was blazing his face into profile, sharply defining the hard masculine lines of it and highlighting his black hair. But she realized that it was what she saw in his eyes that really put her guard up. There was a hard edge to the man. A look of hard-bitten experience. She would bet that he had done and seen more dangerous things than most men had even dreamed of even before this zombie apocalypse.
He turned to look at her, and, amazingly, as those dark gray eyes swept over her from head to toe, something hit her in the pit of her stomach, something that made her feel like she’d just dropped ten stories in a too-fast elevator.
“There are a lot of bad things out there,” he said evenly as his gaze held hers.
As if she didn’t already know that.
“About that offer- ” he began.
“I appreciate the food,” she interrupted him. “But I didn’t ask for your help. And I don’t need a bodyguard,” she added.