by Ariel Bonin
Andrew held back a grin. At this point Charlie's rifle and motorcycle were one in the same—the man just wasn't himself without either.
"So how's this going to work?" Robert piped up.
"Nicholas, Kat, Tyler and Ana can stay in the Ford's cab. Charlie will be on his bike. Lindsey can drive the car with Caren and the kids. Robert and I will sit in the truck bed. The weather's gettin' warmer—the ride shouldn't be too bad." Andrew glanced away and took in the hatchback once again. "Charlie, why don't you go ahead with the others to get your motorcycle? Lindsey and I will get started on the car," he proposed, earning an odd stare from the woman.
As Charlie nodded, Nicholas motioned to Robert. "Come on, help me round up Tyler and Kat and we'll get this thing done."
Ana swung herself up into the truck bed, followed by Charlie. The man leaned over and produced a small bag of tools. He handed them over the side to Andrew and then took a seat next to the dark-haired woman. Robert passed by a moment later as Tyler, Kat and Nicholas mounted the steps into the cab. With one last glance, they were gone.
_____
Lindsey marched after Andrew across the stifling parking lot. Apparently he hadn't been kidding when he'd made the comment about it getting warmer. Out in the direct sunlight, heat radiated off the faded tar and made it harder to breathe. Heaving out an annoyed sigh, she made sure it was loud enough for him to hear. He'd kind of been a jerk this morning and hadn't said a word to her since. Now he wanted her to help him fix a car? What the hell was that about? She'd chalk the whole thing up to him waking up on the wrong side of the bed, so to speak, but still…
Andrew circled the abandoned car and opened the driver's side door. He reached in to pull a latch, popping the hood. Lindsey remained by the left headlight as he propped it open.
Finally, she said, "You and I both know that I'm clueless when it comes to cars. Why the hell did you ask me to stay?"
Andrew set the bag of tools aside and turned to face her. "I owe you an apology."
She was well aware of the sincerity that emanated from his cerulean gaze and felt her heart melt slightly.
"I woke up from a bad dream and lashed out at you. I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve that."
Lindsey instantly regretted having been so pissy toward him. It was just a miscommunication, a misunderstanding. She'd had problems with that sort of thing even before the dead rose. There was one time in particular that always lingered in her memory. During her first years in college, she'd worked in retail. The boss was always in a bad mood and snapped at the employees on a regular basis. Lindsey wasn't one to allow repeated verbal abuse, so one day she fought back. The other woman had crumpled into tears and proceeded to tell a stunned Lindsey that her husband was leaving her for another woman and her young children blamed her for the divorce. It was all she could do to get out of bed every day. From then on, Lindsey made a conscious effort to give a small amount of leeway to each person who gave her grief—because you never knew what was truly going on in someone's life.
She wished she'd had the same patience with Andrew today. Truth be told, she was tired. So fucking tired. Of everything. The constant struggle to find food and shelter while avoiding people who wanted to eat you was physically draining, and the loss of loved ones was emotionally crushing. Her tolerance level seemed to have no end, but some part of her knew she was close to topping out.
"I forgive you," she said, "and I'm sorry."
Andrew scoffed. "For what? You didn't do anything."
"I don't know. For not being very understanding?" she asked with a shrug.
His mouth curved into a smile as he took the two steps to bring himself directly before her. They wrapped their arms around each other in a romantic embrace, Lindsey feeling his hard body through her t-shirt. His heat and masculine scent made her hormones go crazy and before she knew it, her hands were grasping the material at his back while her mouth angled over his. Andrew returned the kiss with equal longing as he touched her waist and moved his hand to her chest. The thin material of her bra allowed him to feel the soft weight of her breast in his palm. Lindsey moaned into his mouth, biting at his bottom lip. Andrew's tongue stroked hers to the same rhythm as his thumb, which was bringing her nipple to a hard peak.
Somewhere along the way, they began backing up toward the door to the backseat. As he ravaged her mouth with his own, he reached for the handle. The fog of desire in Lindsey's head was making it hard for her to think. There was something in the back of her mind alerting her as to why they couldn't do this. Suddenly, she remembered.
"Andrew, wait." She pulled back, their chests rising and falling from labored breaths. "We can't right now," she mumbled with regret.
He shook his head. "Why?"
Lindsey looked anywhere but into his eyes as warmth flooded her face. "I'm, uh…"
A rush of air expelled between Andrew's lips, causing her to meet his startled gaze. "Are- are you…?"
Her eyes widened. "Pregnant?" She let out an amused laugh as his brow furrowed. "No! I'm on my period."
Lindsey's simple, yet embarrassing, answer made him relax in an instant, a relieved grin spreading across his face. "As much as I want that to be true one of these days, today would not be ideal."
"I know, baby," she responded, caressing his bearded cheek with a gentle hand.
Andrew let out a slow breath and briefly closed his eyes under her touch. Leaning in, he kissed her once more. It was unhurried, deep, and Lindsey felt his love all the way to her toes.
When she and Andrew reluctantly separated, they shared a warm smile and then he returned to his spot under the hood. Lindsey got that odd feeling like someone was watching her and glanced up at the steeple. Caren sat perched on the edge, a rifle resting across her lap. She gave the blonde a brazen smile and wiggled her eyebrows as she lightly fanned herself.
Shaking her head, Lindsey fought to hold back a playful smirk and, with the roll of her eyes, turned around to help Andrew.
Later that day, after the other group members returned from their salvage mission, they packed up the vehicles and hit the road. Somewhere along the way, Andrew saw Lindsey and Caren gesture at him through the front windshield of the hatchback. He directed his gaze to an upcoming sign and saw the words: Welcome to Florida - The Sunshine State. He glanced back at the two women and watched them do a silly dance in their seats. He and Robert chuckled at the ridiculous sight. A moment later, the young redhead looked at Andrew.
"We're pretty lucky to have them. Don't ya think?"
Andrew sighed with content and said over the roar of the truck, "Yeah, we are."
_____
Bands of pink and purple stretched across the sky as they began to lose the last light of day. Andrew and Robert were keeping their eyes peeled for a suitable place to stay overnight when the truck unexpectedly made a sputtering noise and lurched to a stop. Exchanging an uneasy glance, the two men stood up. As they climbed down, Nicholas exited the cab and stood by the side of the truck. He knelt on the ground and peered at the large gas tank. The distinct smell of fuel wafted up from the pavement.
"Son of a bitch!" he exploded, hanging his head in exasperation.
"What happened?" Kat asked.
"We've been leaking gas. Not sure how or why, but we're out…" Nicholas stated.
"And we've been running on empty for a while now," Lindsey added, the seriousness of the situation starting to set in.
Caren appeared nervous as she asked, "What do we do now?"
"There's only one thing to do: get more fuel," Andrew answered. Hoping that he wouldn't be met with resistance, he said, "We'll split up—Lindsey and I will take two gas cans this way, Charlie and Ana can take two that way, and Nicholas and Kat can search down that side road. Caren, would you be willing to watch the kids? Robert and Tyler can keep watch until we get back. If any of you run into a problem, just fire a single shot. We'll get to you as quick as we can."
Everyone seemed to agree on the plan because no one spoke out against it, so
Andrew began walking to retrieve his two red plastic containers. Zoey was hot on his heels, saying, "I want to go with you. I can help. Please, Dad?"
Knowing he'd said no for far too long, Andrew stopped to look at her. With an unenthusiastic nod, he replied, "All right, fine. You can come with us."
_____
Lindsey stared down the ever-darkening road, watching the shadows deepen. Loose gravel crunched under the three pairs of boots. Rustling noises in the bushes and sharp echoes of snapping twigs had them on high alert, but nothing presented itself to them. Andrew carried one empty gas can, and Zoey the other. Lindsey gripped her Glock, desperately hoping she wouldn't need an occasion to use it. The impending nightfall made her more uncomfortable than usual. A full moon was rising into the sky, so she was thankful for that at least.
Andrew happened upon a mailbox, lying dented in the dirt. A grown-in driveway led away from it and a house was visible at the end. The moon reflected dimly off a dirty car in the front yard. Signaling with the turn of his head, Andrew started down the even darker path. They stuck close together. The last think they needed was to mistake the other for a turner. They reached the car and were relieved to find that it was an older model, therefore it would be easier to siphon any remaining fuel from it. Andrew stood aside, allowing Zoey to act out the knowledge he had imparted on her. She opened the lid, removed the gas cap and threaded in the tubing. Once she had it positioned correctly, she drew in on the end of the tube, creating the suction needed to pull the gas from the tank. Dark liquid snaked thru the clear plastic and into the first awaiting can.
Before they could get started on the second container, the flow stopped—the tank was dry. With a proud pat on his daughter's back, Andrew capped it off.
"Should we search the house?" Lindsey proposed.
Andrew shook his head. "No. Our mission is fuel. We shouldn't be out here any longer than we need to be." And with that, they headed back down the driveway.
_____
All traces of the sun were gone now, replaced by a glow from the full moon. A cool breeze moved through, disturbing the surrounding bushes, making it even harder to listen for lurking threats. Two more garages had been searched, but lacked vehicles. A van on the side of the road was empty—stripped clean inside and out. Andrew's uncomfortable feelings toward this situation grew with every passing minute. It wasn't common for them to travel after dark, especially on foot. We have one full can of gas, he thought, maybe we should just turn around.
"Hey, there's a driveway up here," Zoey said with a pointed finger. "I think I see a car."
The girl began to put some distance between them, and Andrew hissed, "Wait. Don't get too far ahead of us."
Zoey slowed down to wait for Lindsey and Andrew, but fidgeted impatiently, tapping the hollow canister against her leg. When the two adults caught up, she whirled around to lead them down the rocky path. Andrew could hear quick breaths escaping from between Lindsey's lips as darkness threatened to swallow them.
Finally the narrow driveway opened to a moonlit yard, though it actually resembled a field with its acres of tall grass. There was no garage off the one-story house, but a car port instead. Underneath the listing structure was a rusty Toyota Tacoma. Andrew decided to take the initiative this time and immediately went to work siphoning what fuel he could. A sufficient amount of liquid poured into the plastic container, stopping just before the second-to-last line. Satisfied and ready to get back, Andrew screwed on the cap.
"Let's go," he said, keeping his eyes sharp on the surrounding woods as they approached the road once again.
The three survivors had only gone about twenty yards when they heard a particularly loud crunch from among the trees. They froze in place, heads turning in all directions. It sounded like it came from the left side, but Andrew couldn't be positive. Regardless, he moved to set down his gas can and reached for the Beretta on his hip.
The cold barrel of a Ruger pistol pressed to his temple. "Get those hands up," a husky voice warned from next to Andrew's ear.
Lindsey lifted her weapon, but the click of another handgun echoed in the night air, coming to rest against the back of her head. With a frustrated sigh, she raised her hands and the man snatched her Glock and tucked it into his waistband. At the mercy of these strangers, Lindsey glanced at Andrew and saw a rough-looking man with stringy black hair holding him at gunpoint.
Shit. This is not going to end well.
Her head cautiously swiveled in the other direction and watched another man lock his arm around Zoey's chest. The girl stared at her with wide, panicky eyes.
Definitely not going to end well…
"I see you have our shit," the black-haired man said as he reached down to lift the canister filled with fuel.
"We found that in an abandoned car," Andrew explained, his voice simmering with barely-contained anger and fear. "It's ours."
The man clicked his tongue and further nudged the gun barrel into Andrew's temple. Andrew gritted his teeth and stared angrily at the ground. Zoey made a frightened noise from nearby, catching her father's attention. Andrew raised his eyes and tried to move toward his daughter.
"Take your hands off her!" he demanded as the man held him back.
"This road belongs to us, so if you found something here, it's ours," the stranger said, revealing a row of discolored teeth.
"Okay, fine, take it," Andrew muttered. "Just let us go."
The man laughed as he glanced at each of his group members. "Do you really think we're the type to just let people go?"
The other men chuckled along knowingly with their leader, sending chills throughout Lindsey's entire core.
Andrew's tone grew more guttural with every word he spoke. "I took the fuel. It was my idea. You can let them go. It doesn't have to be like this."
The leader smiled and patted Andrew on the back, squeezing his shoulder. "You're a naïve son of a bitch. An optimist—but dumb as shit."
At that remark, he was pushed to the ground and rewarded with a kick in the gut. As he recoiled in pain, another man stepped forward and swung his foot into Andrew's head like it was a football waiting for the punt. Blood sprayed across the dirt, his consciousness in limbo. He needed to help Zoey and Lindsey. He needed to protect them. How was he supposed to do that when he couldn't even protect himself?
That was his final thought before another blow turned his world black.
As Zoey was dragged toward the woods, Lindsey spun toward her attacker, who was one step ahead, hitting her soundly across the face. She tried to lunge at him, but a second man grabbed her from behind, restraining any further movement. The first man cracked the butt of his handgun over her brow, which caused her vision to go dark for a moment. She sagged in the man's arms, inadvertently allowing the other man to start undoing her belt. Eventually, she came to on the ground. She was positioned on her back, unable to move her hands from where they were being held down above her head. She kicked her legs at the man kneeling before her. He punched her once more, splitting her lip. She cried out at the painful sensation and briefly thought back to her fight at The Factory.
This experience was far worse.
Salty tears dampened her cheeks as her shirt and bra were ripped open. She wanted so badly to cover herself, but could do nothing. A male shout nearby redirected her attention, but when she spotted Andrew on the ground not far from her, she saw that he wasn't moving.
Oh, God…
She was brought back to her current predicament when her attacker tried to tug down her pants.
"No!" she growled, struggling with every ounce of strength in her adrenaline-charged body. Another punch drew a sob from deep within her chest as the men jerked her onto her stomach. The distinct sound of a belt buckle and unzipped fly resonated in her ears. He wrenched down her loose jeans and pressed a large hand over her head, pushing her face into the gravel on the side of the road. The open wounds on her face stung as dirt ground itself in, creating a mess of blood, snot and tears—
and in that moment all she could think about was giving up.
A splash of warmth enveloped Lindsey's partially exposed back, dripping down her sides. The weight was lifted from her wrists and, as she attempted to blink the wet dust from her eyes, she saw Zoey's dainty boots pass by. The man who'd been seconds from raping Lindsey looked on in astonishment as Zoey swung her knife into the side of his neck. She jerked it out, arterial blood shooting from the wound.
With the ease of a trained assassin operating on autopilot, she dropped her knife and snatched the dying man's handgun. After cocking it, she dispelled a round into the head of the group's leader and another into her father's attacker. Their bodies flopped to the ground, a faint wisp of smoke rising from the gun barrel. She stared at their motionless forms and then watched as her father regained consciousness to gape at her in disbelief at the scene around him. Zoey's original aggressor lay at the wood's edge, a sharp stick protruding from his eye socket.
Shaking with adrenaline, Lindsey whirled around and dove onto her dead attacker. In a flash, she had the discarded knife and buried it so deep into his chest that the handle was the only thing that stopped her. She stuck him again, sobs tearing from her throat as she became spattered in crimson.
Unaware of approaching headlights, Lindsey took out as much of her pent-up aggression as she possibly could on the corpse under her. Wearily, Andrew reached for the woman, somehow getting her to release the blade. He tried to pull her into his arms, but she slapped at his chest in a reflexive move of self-defense. He saw that her face was a mess and her front bare, and he wished he could've killed the bastards himself. His dark mood intensified even further as he watched her struggle to pull up her pants.
Helping her in the only way he could, he fought the pain in his ribs as he eased off his bomber jacket, slipped her trembling arms into the sleeves, and zipped up the front. It was then that she fell apart. Gut-wrenching cries shook her whole body as she finally let Andrew rock her gently on the ground. He stroked her blood-matted hair and looked across the road at his daughter. Ana was comforting the shell-shocked girl and Andrew couldn't have been more thankful. He wished there were two of himself in that moment. He desperately needed to be there for Zoey, but Lindsey was almost inconsolable—he couldn't just leave her like this.