by Emma Shortt
Chapter Eighteen
Luke watched the rain falling as he held Jackson in his arms on the mezzanine level of the restaurant. She slept now, at last. But not peacefully, never peacefully. She twitched and she fidgeted and sort of groaned in a silent kind of way.
He wondered what thoughts were chasing through her subconscious mind and then decided he didn’t want to know. His own nightmares were enough to make him shudder. He suspected that Jackson’s were a bit worse.
I stomped my own brother’s head in…
He frowned as he realized he hadn’t asked her before now about her family. He hadn’t wanted to, but then she’d never asked about his. Maybe family discussions were something most people who were still alive held onto for as long as possible? The last little bit of them. But then again maybe not. After all, he was ready to tell Jackson about his parents, so what that said about their relationship he did not know.
“I never got to my parents in time,” he whispered. “They were just…gone. The door was wide open, the windows smashed, and there was just nothing…”
She mumbled something and he held her a little closer, closing his eyes against the images of his parent’s home. Those images were replaced immediately by the haunting vision of Jackson standing at the top of that skyscraper, or her stomping her boot down on her brother’s neck.
“You’re so fucking brave,” he whispered. “I have no idea how you made it here.”
Her grip on his arm tightened and his chest with it. The minutes ticked by and he thought about everything, playing it all over in his mind. Him. Her. Their journey. He even found himself thinking about Tye and wondered if Jackson had been as elusive and independent with him, whether she had even told him her skyscraper story. Luke suspected not. It was the person she was… no, he amended, the person she had become.
In his mind’s eye he could easily imagine Jackson as she must have once been. Her long dark hair running down her back. Her body all curvy, a smile on her face as she served drinks and wrote down her orders. She’d told him how much she missed her iPod and he could see her striding along the street, the headphones in, oblivious to the world around her. It pained him to think she would never be oblivious to anything ever again. Neither of them would be.
She mumbled again in her sleep and he looked down to see a frown chase across her brow. Even in the darkness her skin was very pale, her lashes fanning across the dark smudges underneath her eyes, and her lips were settled into their customary frown. Yet, still, she was so pretty to him. Too pretty, maybe? It surprised Luke how much he felt for her already. They were so unlike each other, both of them having responded to this new world in such different ways. He knew that essentially he was the same person he had been two years ago. Sure he was tougher, maybe a little meaner, maybe even a little harder—but when it came right down to the nitty-gritty he was still Luke. Still the mechanic who missed his family and wished every single day that things were different. If Jackson’s idea of a world without zombies was real, he knew it wouldn’t take much for him to slip back into the person he’d once been. It would be like putting on an old coat, familiar and comfortable. No trouble at all.
But the more he considered it, the more he didn’t think it would be that way for Jackson. She was good at this life—odd though that might sound. Her skill at beheading the dead was a thing to behold. Nothing interfered with her actions, no emotions, no hesitation. She took the dead down one after the other and didn’t even pause. Of course, now he understood why.
The skyscraper. The acceptance.
The lack of food, the lack of warmth, none of it fazed her, not in the way it did him. This existence suited her and he wondered how much she’d had to change to make it that way, or whether the person he knew had been in the person that was her all along.
“Who are you, really, Jackson?” he whispered. “And why is it so important to me that I find out?”
She mumbled some more, shifted against him, and he would have held her a little closer, comforted her in her sleep, but a noise outside caught his attention and he paused. Slowly he swiveled his head and watched as four zombies, illuminated by the moon’s light, walked up the deserted street. Though maybe walked was the wrong way to describe it. It was more that they sort of stalked.
He checked his weapons slowly, carefully, and was relieved to find them exactly where they should be. Energy was coursing through him and he had to force himself to sit perfectly still.
They groaned as they moved, snapped at one another and bared their teeth. The rain didn’t seem to bother them at all, even though two of them were naked. Luke wondered if they even felt the cold, or whether that sensation was long since gone. It was an abstract wonder, though. In truth, he didn’t really care.
“They’re outside aren’t they?”
Her whispered words against him were soft on his skin and Luke sighed, craning his neck slightly as the zombies started to move out of view.
“How did you know?”
“I just did.”
“You haven’t slept for long.”
“I know, but now is the time to get moving. How many are there?”
“Four.”
“That’s four less on the road. Let’s move while we can.”
Luke frowned and eyed the disappearing zombies. Wondering what they were stalking, if anything. Who knew what the hell they were up to anymore? The bastards. What he did know was that Jackson had barely rested, that she was as tense as anything and he did not like it. He wanted her to rest some more. He wanted her to just take a whole day or a night or fucking something to escape from it. She wouldn’t though.
“Jack—”
“Andrew and Peter,” she whispered.
“Huh?
“I just dreamed about them,” she said with a sigh. “It all comes out in my dreams. The first zombie. My brothers. Those were their names. Andrew and Peter, and really in the end, I guess you could say, I killed them both.”
He shook his head instantly, and pulled her closer. “Jack, you didn’t.”
“I did,” she whispered, and he felt her tremble ever so slightly in his arms. “You wanted to know, so here it is. They went out to find supplies and only one came back. He was already infected. I had no choice but to kill him. I almost didn’t…I almost let him eat me…”
“He’d have killed you.”
“I know,” she sighed. “So I killed him instead, moral dilemma number one, and who knows what happened to Peter? I never found him.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said, even as he imagined how awful that moment must have been for her. He supposed, in a way, he should almost be grateful that his parents hadn’t been waiting for him, waiting to eat him. “He wasn’t your brother anymore.”
“I know that,” she whispered. “But all the hundreds I’ve killed? They were all someone’s brother, someone’s sister, someone’s kid. One after the other and after the other. I don’t even know how I do it, Luke. I was never tough before, but the moment Mandy is in my hand I just kill them. Nothing stops me.”
“We do what we have to.”
“And does that make it—”
The screeching noise that filled the air had only one obvious source and Jackson stopped speaking immediately. They were both instantly still and he relaxed his arms so that Jackson could lift Mandy, poised and ready without so much as a noise.
“The front door,” she whispered and he nodded.
“Quickly.”
Another screech and Jackson lifted herself off him carefully, her shadowed face settling into the familiar lines. He stood too, and swiveled around as quietly as possible, before leading the way forward and down the spiral staircase to their escape route. Another screech followed by the sounds of glass breaking and they both ran. The zombies were pushing the table out of the way, but now that the window was broken they would likely just climb through the gap, not caring if they broke their skin or bones while they were at it. He scowled, even as his heart pumped doub
le time.
How had they found them? Had they circled back around while Jackson was confessing her secrets? The questions clicked through his mind in a mere second and he tightened his grip on his ax.
“Quick, Luke,” Jackson hissed and he felt her bump against him.
A howl sounded, followed by another, and Luke gave up all pretensions of stealth. He kicked through the front door and ran straight out into the rain…and one of them. Clawed hands grabbed at his arm, teeth snapped, and Luke used his ax to simply bash rather than cut, catching the zombie hard on the face.
A screech, a howl, and the zombie reared back, allowing Luke to swing the ax properly. It embedded itself in the zombie’s chest, and remembering Jackson’s advice from the pool room, all those days ago, Luke pulled upward. His ax tore through the zombie’s chest and came out at the neck. From there it was easy to pull it free and swipe once more, removing the head. It rolled across the floor, the body hitting the wet street with a nasty squelching noise.
Luke turned quickly and spotted Jackson by a large Dumpster, two zombies were closing in on her and he ran forward, desperate to ensure she was okay.
“Get the car,” she shouted and he gaped. She thought he’d just leave her?
“No fucking way!”
“Then stay the hell back,” she shrieked. “Wait for the other one.”
Luke looked into the restaurant, because yes, of course, one had gone around the back to flush them out. It would arrive at any moment. He went to grab his gun, but then thought better of it. The moon’s light was dim and he could well end up hurting either Jackson or himself. There was no choice but to wait, but he wouldn’t do so while she fought off two, no matter what she said!
He moved forward, determined to help her, but the moment he did the zombies closed in on her and Luke watched in horror as she fell to her knees. He roared as he moved, and for a second he couldn’t understand what he was seeing, but the moment the now-damaged zombies hit the ground he realized. She’d sliced through them at the kneecaps, removing a leg a piece in one single, graceful arc.
She beheaded one before even looking in his direction, then took care of the other, and though really he should have been looking out for the other zombie, Luke couldn’t help but admire her moves. She was so efficient, so matter of fact, and so damn cute.
“Can you believe that,” she growled, pointing Mandy at one of the zombies.
They were both naked and Luke sort of shuddered as he noticed where she was pointing, a male, and he was dripping yellow pus from his dick.
Disgusting.
Another shriek behind them and Luke turned to see the final zombie, a female, charge out of the restaurant. She didn’t have the calculated look the others had. She was wild and crazed—a zombie model one, as in minus the smarts. She also went straight for Jackson.
“Think it through already,” he heard her say and Luke wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or the zombie, but he lifted his ax anyway and cleaved it straight through the back of the zombie’s head.
The skull cracked, brain oozed out, accompanied by a significant amount of pus, and the shriek turned into a dull scream. Luke flipped the ax in his hands so that the thick part was now directly above the cracked skull and bashed it once, then again, until the whole thing split like a melon.
Jackson shot him the biggest grin the moment the zombie gave its final twitch. Moral dilemmas or not when it came down to the fight, she was ruthless. They both were.
“Come on, Luke! Time to get the hell out of Dodge.”
She was grinning and running toward the car and Luke followed her, exhilaration at another battle survived making him almost high. The moment they were inside, both breathing heavy, Luke took a deep, steadying breath, and turned to Jackson. “You’re something to behold, Jack. You might not know how you manage it, but damn you do.”
“You’re not too bad yourself.” She grinned, and before he could think better of it, Luke leaned forward and deposited a kiss on her open lips.
Maybe it was the adrenaline? Maybe it was the thrill of the win, or maybe it was just her, but the moment their lips touched his chest expanded and a strange tingle ran down his spine. He lingered for just a second before pulling back and tucking a stray strand of spiky hair behind her ear.
“What was that for?” she whispered, but she was still grinning and his heart thumped some more.
“Because we’re bad-ass.”
Slowly she nodded, her smile widening, her beautiful eyes filled with something that made his entire body harden. “You damn right we are. Come on. Let’s go kill some more zombies.”
And so they did.
Chapter Nineteen
Several days later Jackson watched as, binoculars in hand, Luke looked down to the middle of the fire escape where she perched.
“How many?” she whispered.
“Do you really want me to answer that?” he mouthed back.
“Roundabout?”
Luke scowled and even from a distance Jackson could see the worry lines around his eyes crinkling.
“Put it this way, Jack,” he said. “We’re in the shit.”
Jackson watched as he poked his head over the wall again and let out a long, slow exhale. She knew from his position that he could see pretty much the whole area, and by the sound of things, aka the shrieks and groans, it was not a pretty sight.
She took a deep breath, flooding her body with oxygen and she felt her stomach rumble, almost like it was demanding calories for the fight it knew was coming.
“Yep, totally in the shit.”
“Scale of one to ten?” she whispered.
He turned and scowled. “Ten.”
Jackson sighed. Why the hell wasn’t she surprised? After traveling for days without any trouble beyond a couple of dead things, it was too good to last.
Of course a lack of action meant a lack of other kinds of action. No adrenaline meant no adrenaline-induced kisses. She shivered ever so slightly as she replayed their kiss. Part of her had been so tempted to initiate another. After all, he’d started the first and turnabout was fair play, right? But she knew it had to be organic, natural, and it was all about timing, and now was so not the time. Not for another kiss or even to be even thinking about it! Something had Luke worried, something bad, and Jackson was not surprised. Yep, too good to last.
“What’s the deal then?”
“I’m gonna come down and you take a look yourself. Be prepared.”
With some rather dexterous movements they swapped positions and Jackson, ignoring the feel of Luke’s body brushing against her, climbed up until she too could look though the binoculars—a handy scavenge from an Outdoor World shop—and see out across the area. The sight that greeted her was enough for any thoughts of further kisses to subside and panic to judder through every single cell of her body. Nervous energy joined it, creating a nasty combination that made her sway slightly on the ladder. Shit. She bit down on her lip and steadied herself before letting the shock of what she could see settle across her. Accept it and deal with it, she told herself. Only way.
A minute or so later, once the adrenaline peaked and held, and the fear—because despite what Luke thought, there was always fear—settled into its usual spot on her shoulders, heavy and painful, Jackson began to think. How many were there? Then she realized that it was hard to say. The press of flesh was immense. Mottled, elongated limbs pressed up against one another, teeth snapping, pus dripping, and howls sounding. She guessed more than a hundred but either way it didn’t really matter. It was a hundred too many.
They were spread out across the entire area as far as Jackson could see. In the doorways of the abandoned buildings, hanging from the lampposts, shrieking from atop cars. One in particular caught her eye, though she didn’t know why. It was a female zombie, probably a retiree when she had died. The image of her snarling face against the soft flowers of her smock jarred somehow and Jackson felt vomit rise.
Swallow it, she told hersel
f and her body complied.
Her gaze went to another waking dead. A teenager. She still had pink hair and bits of metal in her face. Piercings, of course, and Jackson’s heart went out to the girl she’d been. Another face, a young boy, then another, an elderly man… Mr. Jenkins flashed through her mind.
The sheer sight of so many boggled her mind. She’d seen nothing like it since the very early days. To see a pack, a fucking immense super-sized pack now, scared the shit—and then some—out of her. What the hell did it mean? Why were they banding together like that? What were they living on? It didn’t seem like they were eating each other.
She crawled back down the fire escape, her mind in a million different directions. A cloud of dust erupted under her and Luke’s feet and they both paused for a few moments. The groans continued to sound—though distant now—and the air had that same tangible feel to it. Danger. It was what had made Luke stop the car with a frown a few blocks back, before suggesting they scout the area out a little.
“You were bang on the money,” she whispered. “It’s almost like we can feel them.”
He stepped a little closer to her, so that there were bare inches between them. As always, Jackson found her gaze on eye level with his despairingly muscular chest, and swallowed carefully before raising her eyes to his.
“Houston, we have a problem,” he whispered and despite the fact that a horde of flesh eating beasts was just a few blocks away, Jackson smiled.
“We so do.”
He lifted a hand to indicate the direction he wanted them to go in and Jackson crept behind him until they made it back to the car. The panic subsided ever so slightly when they were inside. The illusion of safety, she thought. But then there almost was an element of it with Luke behind the wheel. She trusted him to drive right, not to take chances, and she could actually sleep as he traversed the country.
How odd.
Jackson swallowed carefully and eyed the man who sat next to her. She’d never really thought about it. How, when she was in the car with him, she did relax a little. She’d thought it was only when they were holed up somewhere, snuggled up together, but clearly that was not the case. What that said she didn’t know, but when he reached out to take her hand in his and give it a squeeze, she kind of thought that might have something to do with it.