Road of Stars

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Road of Stars Page 8

by Ariel Bonin


  Suddenly, Lindsey realized there was a mirror right in front of them. She looked up and made eye contact with Andrew. He was wearing a cocky smile.

  "That's right, look at me. You are so beautiful," he said, pulling back one side of her long blonde hair to graze his lips along the length of her neck.

  Lindsey let out another moan, gasping for breath.

  "I've been dying to get you alone, to touch you, to fuck you… Tell me you've wanted that, too," he whispered against her ear, his hot breath sending shudders all the way to her toes. "Tell me, Linds."

  "Yes. Oh, God, yes," Lindsey whimpered, looking into his devastating eyes in the mirror, which had changed to a deep, dark blue. She felt heat everywhere, her climax close. His breath rushed out and tickled her ear every time he pushed into her. She could feel his hands tightening their grip on her hips as he drove into her again, harder this time. Lindsey closed her eyes and began her release.

  "Don't close your eyes. Look at me, baby. I want to watch you come."

  God, he's being so rough and controlling. I like it.

  Her eyes flashed open and made contact with his. She let out a final moan and felt her body start to relax, although it trembled slightly in the aftermath. She watched his face now; it contorted with pleasure as he thrust one final time before resting his tired body against hers. They stayed like that for a moment, catching their breath and savoring the closeness. Before she could pull up her shorts, Andrew lightly smacked one curved cheek. She let out a playful giggle and he gave her a big grin.

  After cleaning themselves up, Lindsey reached for the knob on the bathroom door, but Andrew grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her deeply, his movements far slower than before. Lindsey sighed into his mouth as she grasped a handful of his shirt. They parted ways and he gave her a sexy smirk—something she didn't see on him very often—followed by a wink.

  Chapter 9

  Lindsey opened her eyes to find Zoey sitting up in the bed while Andrew redressed her wound. She watched as the bandage was removed, exposing an angry purple-tinted bite mark. Zoey grimaced and diverted her eyes as her dad treated the affected area.

  "You're doin' great, honey," Andrew murmured, moving his hands with careful, dexterous ease. "Almost done."

  Zoey nodded, but sucked in a sharp breath as Andrew moved over the deepest part of the wound. She met Lindsey's piteous gaze as the woman pushed herself upright. Andrew glanced at her and smiled, quickly directing his concentration back to his current task.

  "How'd you sleep?" he asked.

  Well, after you fucked my brains out, pretty damn good.

  Deciding that that wasn't the most child-friendly answer, she said, "Great, actually."

  Andrew's smile widened. "Good. Having a real bed helped, huh?"

  Lindsey chuckled and slipped out from under the covers. "Certainly didn't hurt." She padded across the room to find Jacob sitting on top of a baby blanket. He noticed Lindsey and gave her a grin, complete with a string of drool. She lifted Jacob into her arms and walked back to sit on the edge of her bed. "Someone's teething."

  "That's what I was thinking," Andrew replied. Indicating Zoey, he said, "You were a terror every time you cut a tooth. Rash, fever—you had it all. Your mom—" Andrew stopped, regret clear in his sad eyes.

  "It's okay, Dad. You can talk about her..." Zoey said softly.

  From the side, Lindsey saw Andrew's jaw jump as he gritted his teeth. Struggling to finish his thought, he rasped out, "Your mother, she, uh, used to make these little ice pops for you. It got to be that you wouldn't take anything I tried to give you. You'd just fuss until she came home from work and handed it to you herself." One corner of Andrew's lips quirked into a faint smile as he stared into space, reminiscing.

  "It's too bad we can't freeze anything," Zoey mused. "I bet Jake would like one."

  Lindsey bounced the boy on her knee, feeling like she'd just intruded on a special family moment. Very rarely did Andrew mention Kelly, and this was the first time Lindsey had heard him talk about her with Zoey. Whenever the deceased woman was brought up, it was a reminder to Lindsey that this wasn't her life—these weren't her children and Andrew wasn't her husband. If the world hadn't ended, she would be leading a completely different life. Sometimes she wondered, was this where she belonged?

  Andrew's amused voice pulled Lindsey out of her thoughts. "He's not nearly as fussy as you were. Some teething rings will probably do him fine," he said, reaching a hand across the gap between the beds to stroke the infant's feather-soft hair. He looked over the top of Jacob's head and locked eyes with Lindsey. His affectionate gaze forced the very breath from her body.

  A knock at the door captured everyone's attention. Andrew got to his feet and walked across the room, checking the peephole before opening the weathered door. Caren and Robert stood on the other side, a small box of food in each of their arms.

  "Breakfast?" Caren asked.

  Still holding Jacob, Lindsey moved to stand next to Andrew. She heard Robert say, "Choose wisely—this is the last of it."

  "This is all the food we have left?" Lindsey asked in astonishment. She and Andrew traded a look of uneasiness. They'd been low on food before, but nothing like this. With the number of people they had in their group, this amount would only last them until tomorrow, maybe.

  For once, Lindsey missed the plain oatmeal.

  Thinking that it would be best to ration, she took only a granola bar. Andrew did the same, but took two for Zoey—if the girl was going to fight off any kind of infection, she'd need to keep her strength. They thanked the couple and went back into their room to get ready for the day.

  _____

  Around mid-day, the caravan stopped at another housing development. Until they found a significant amount of food, they would be making these stops quite frequently. Tyler calculated that they were somewhere north of Tuscaloosa. If they made good headway after this, there was a good chance they would make it to the Alabama-Florida border by the end of the following day.

  Andrew made sure Zoey and Jacob were all set in the car, and Caren and Robert agreed to keep an eye on them. With Lindsey beside him, he snagged Charlie and the threesome began searching houses on the first street. Nadie, Ana and Darius took the second, while Nicholas, Tyler and Kat started on the last.

  The first house they entered was a small one-story, but had large windows and brought in lots of light. After a quick search, they confirmed that it was also empty. The next house was more promising, containing four cans of expired soup and two boxes of stale cereal. It wasn't ideal, but better than nothing. At this point just about everything was expired. Simply too much time had passed.

  One of the last houses on their assigned street was a beautiful colonial with white siding and blue shutters. An attractive, sturdy porch stretched across the front, and a heavy wooden door welcomed them inside. Lindsey swept through the living room and Charlie moved toward the kitchen, so Andrew started on the upstairs. The familiar smell of decomposition hung in the air as he progressed toward the end of the hall. He checked each room thoroughly, but found no sign of anyone. When he reached the last door, the smell increased.

  With his knife in position, Andrew pushed open the last door. The scene before him was so shocking, he almost dropped his weapon. A young woman lay on the bed, a bullet hole in her temple. She'd been pregnant. The woman's belly protruded, but an ample amount of blood streaked the floral comforter. Her knees were still bent, and it was clear to Andrew that she'd been in labor. A small lump rested at her feet, covered by a blood-stained towel. He knew what—or who—was underneath and had no desire to see it.

  The last body was in an armchair in the corner. Sprawled out, the man held a handgun in his open palm. Brain matter decorated the soft blue walls, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

  Andrew had seen a lot, but he found the sight of this room absolutely horrifying. Putting the pieces together, he assumed that the woman and child had died during the birth, and the
father couldn't go on alone. Andrew could relate. This was what he was afraid of. What if he got Lindsey pregnant and she wasn't able to get the care she needed? What about Caren? She was already with child. What if she and the baby died? What would it do to Robert?

  With wide eyes, Andrew backed out of the room. His hands shook as he quietly shut the door. Taking a moment, he leaned against the wall in the hallway and attempted to quell the shuddering in his breaths. He squeezed his eyes shut, but all he could see was the bloody bedroom and its victims.

  Eventually he walked downstairs and approached Charlie. The other man was taking canned goods from the pantry and loading up his bag. Lindsey stood nearby, her gaze lingering over something on the outside of the refrigerator. Andrew knelt down next to Charlie and lowered his voice.

  "Whatever you do, do not let Lindsey go upstairs."

  Charlie's hand slowed as he reached for the next item. Picking up the pace again, he whispered, "That bad?"

  Andrew fixed his solemn cobalt eyes on Charlie and swallowed hard. With a nod, he said, "Yeah…"

  _____

  Lindsey stared at the photographs on the fridge with a mixture of sadness and nostalgia. She'd woken up that morning to discover that Mother Nature had paid her a visit, terminating all chances that she and Andrew had created something the night before. The pictures before her were another reminder of what she couldn't seem to have in her future: a man and woman with sunglasses and windblown hair smiled from the back of a boat, then the same woman held a hand over her rounded belly as she showed off a dramatic side view and, lastly, a sonogram boasted a peanut-sized baby.

  She wondered what had become of the couple and their unborn child. The house appeared to be abandoned. Did they find a way to survive? Where were they now?

  Turning away, Lindsey came face to face with Andrew. She hadn't even realized he was there. His watchful gaze briefly crossed over the pictures and settled on the floor.

  "Everything all right?" she asked as she noticed the light sheen of sweat on his pale face.

  Andrew's eyes couldn't quite meet hers as he cleared his throat. "Yeah, just, um…found a dead dog upstairs."

  "Oh," Lindsey breathed, "I'm sorry." She looked around the kitchen and didn't see any traces of a pet—no food dish, no chew toys. Glancing back at Andrew, she sighed. "This was the last house. Are we ready to go?"

  He nodded and forced a smile. "I think we got as much food as we're gonna get. Let's hope the others made out just as well."

  When they got back to the vehicles, Nicholas was also returning, his tree trunk arms carrying two abundant bags of food. He dropped the bags next to his vehicle and sauntered over to the rest of the group.

  "Ana and the others not back yet?" he asked.

  Caren shook her head. "Haven't seen 'em. Do you think they're okay?"

  Nicholas glanced down the middle street, his eyes squinting from the bright afternoon sun. "Should probably check it out—just in case. Don't need any more Iscariots takin' a bite out of our people. Charlie, you want to give me a hand?"

  As the rancher came forward, Nicholas gestured to Andrew.

  "There's a side street off the last road. You and Lindsey should go see what else you can find."

  Andrew frowned. "You sure we have time for that?"

  "We've only got about a week's worth of food here. We'll make time," Nicholas stated in his typical authoritative voice.

  Lindsey stared at the two men, a wordless conversation passing between them. Nicholas was right, but she didn't like the way he talked to Andrew sometimes. Andrew was a great leader. Nicholas needed to give him more credit, especially with his military background.

  Finally, Andrew ended the tense silence, his face neutral. "Come on, Linds."

  _____

  Only thirty minutes after leaving the development, they were blocked by a checkpoint from the beginning of the outbreak. Vines swallowed the scattered tanks, police cars, CDC vans and other assorted vehicles stretched across the entire span of road. A tangled disarray of civilian automobiles jammed the other side, solidifying the fact that they weren't going to get through.

  Andrew unbuckled his seatbelt and looked at Lindsey and Zoey. "I'm gonna talk to the others. Sit tight."

  Stillness enveloped the car upon Andrew's absence. Lindsey heard Zoey sigh and tip her head against the window with a dull thud.

  "How're you feeling?" she asked the girl with genuine interest.

  "Tired…bored," she mumbled in reply.

  Lindsey smiled. "I doubt your injury caused the last thing."

  "Well, sorta. I want to go out there and help you guys. Instead, I'm stuck here twiddling my thumbs," Zoey complained.

  "You're doing your job, which is to rest. Once you're completely healed, I promise you will be out there with the rest of us."

  Andrew returned to the car, Nadie trailing behind him. He opened the driver's side door, but didn't get in.

  "We need to make a detour. The directions are a little unclear and we're losing daylight, so I'm going to ride with Nicholas while we go over the map. Charlie's gonna lead—he thinks he knows the way—so just follow him. I'll honk if we need to make a different turn." Andrew gestured to the woman next to him. "Charlie said he'd feel better if Nadie rode with you for this stretch. That all right?"

  "I can drive if you want?" Nadie offered with a friendly smile.

  "No, that's okay. I'll drive. You just sit back and relax," Lindsey insisted as she climbed out of the passenger seat, leaving it open for Nadie.

  _____

  "It will be nice to go further south," Lindsey said. "We won't have to worry about finding extra resources to stay warm."

  "Do you remember that storm five or six years ago? The one where we all lost our power for six days?" Nadie asked.

  "Yes! That was my first year teaching. School was closed for the entire week. Jared was a PE teacher at the high school, so we got to spend the whole week together. I swear all we did was play rummy and eat Airheads," Lindsey said with a giggle. "What about you?"

  Nadie recounted with a smile, "My kids were in school at that point, so I stayed home to be with them. The weather outside was absolutely disgusting, but they insisted on going out every single day. We built an igloo that would make an Eskimo jealous."

  Lindsey laughed, turning her head to glance at the woman beside her—and that was when she saw it.

  Andrew was mid-sentence when, out of the blue, a large truck slammed into the right side of the black sedan as it passed through an intersection, sending pieces of metal and glass flying. The car was pushed sideways across the road until the mystery truck came to a complete stop. A few versions of "holy shit" resounded inside Nicholas's vehicle.

  Lindsey slowly opened her eyes, the weight of her lids making even that simple act a challenge. The deafening roar in her ears faded and she was suddenly aware of every noise around her—the tinkling of glass, Jacob crying and her own labored breaths. For some reason her face felt warm and sticky. She reached up to touch her temple and her hand came away bloody. Fighting the pain in her neck, she twisted just enough to look into the backseat.

  "Zoey?" she croaked out in a hoarse voice.

  "I'm okay," she whispered, barely audible over Jacob's cries as she massaged her neck with a weak hand. Various cuts littered her face, but nothing substantial.

  "What about Jake? Is he hurt?"

  Zoey grimaced as she turned her head toward Jacob. With a shaky hand, she reached out to comfort her brother. "I think he's just scared—he looks okay."

  Lindsey blew out a sigh of relief. She rotated in her seat, closing her eyes on a wave of pain. "Nadie? Are you all right?" When she got no answer, she glanced up. "Nadie?"

  The woman still didn't move. Panic constricted in Lindsey's chest, making it hard to breathe.

  "Nadie?" Reaching up a weak hand, Lindsey pressed her fingers to the unconscious woman's neck—and felt nothing.

  _____

  Andrew had to knock himself out
of his shocked stupor, but when he did he bolted from the truck, sprinting to the driver's side of the wrecked car. Glass crunched beneath his feet as he paused to check the backseat and saw that both of his children were conscious. He ripped open Lindsey's door, pulling her into his arms. A cut on her forehead was bleeding profusely, the bright red liquid coating the side of her face and neck. The most noticeable thing, though, was the fact that she was crying.

  "Lindsey! Are you all right?" he exclaimed, pulling a bandana from his back pocket and applying it to her wound.

  "I'm fine…the kids are, too," she answered, continuing to weep.

  Something about her statement tipped him off as to why she might be crying.

  "Nadie?" he breathed.

  Lindsey gave him the slightest shake of her head, her bottom lip quivering as more tears streamed down her cheeks. He looked past her into the car and saw Nadie's lifeless body slumped to the side.

  Charlie rushed past Andrew, moving to duck into the driver's seat since the passenger door was crushed.

  "Charlie! Wait!" Andrew shouted.

  Chapter 10

  Charlie ignored Andrew as he reached for Nadie. Her seatbelt was caught in the tangled mess that used to be the right side of the car. When the release wouldn't work, Charlie ripped out his knife and cut the silky material. Her limp body fell into him and, with a grunt, he pulled her from the car.

  Ana rushed up as Charlie gathered Nadie into his arms and knelt on the cracked pavement. He laid her out, his hand resting against her bloody cheek. Streams of crimson angled across her face, indicating to Andrew that she'd suffered a major blow to the right side of her head—something he'd seen many times when he was deployed overseas. Charlie tapped Nadie's cheek, but her eyes didn't open. Ana, also on the ground, grasped her sister's hand and began to sob.

 

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