Demon Ember (Resurrection Chronicles Book 1)

by M. J. Haag

  He tilted his head at me.

  “I didn’t kill you. Boobs. No penis.”

  “You didn’t kill me because I’m a girl?”

  “Yes.”

  I swallowed hard and blinked against the sudden sting in my eyes. Would he now start doing more than looking and groping?

  “What are you going to do?” My voice warbled.

  He blinked back at me. “Keep you safe. Take you home.”

  Too afraid to hope and too afraid to be anything but more afraid, I sniffled.

  “Mya, clean.”

  “I can’t with you watching me,” I said, desperate for him to leave and let me just think for a minute.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because it makes me uncomfortable.”

  He bent down and picked up the shower curtain and rod and handed it to me. Sacrificing my cover, I reached for it. He pulled back a little bit, his gaze inspecting my bits again.

  “Please just let me have the shower curtain.”

  He grunted and gave it over. I quickly put the tension rod back in place, knowing Drav wasn’t leaving.

  “No touching the curtain,” I said, staring at the white material blocking me from his view.

  “Clean, Mya.” He said it like an order.

  “Fine.” I exhaled shakily and stepped into the spray.

  Paranoia still held me in its grip. I felt certain I would somehow become infected. So I kept my eyes and mouth closed as I soaped and rinsed. Then I began to worry that Drav might try to watch me while my eyes were closed. Because of that, I took the fastest shower of my life.

  When I turned off the water, Drav spoke up from the other side of the curtain.

  “Mya, no. Let me shower.”

  His increasing spurts of sensible speech continued to surprise me. Who learned that fast?

  “I’ll turn the shower back on for you. But, you need to leave now so I can get a towel and dry off.”

  I waited behind the curtain, listening. The door opened followed by a soft sound that I thought might be it closing. It was hard to tell since I didn’t know in what condition he’d left the door. I hadn’t even thought to look at the damage after he’d ripped away the shower curtain.

  I hesitated a few moments, then hearing nothing, I peeked out.

  Drav stood by the bathroom closet with a hand towel in one hand and a folded bath towel in the other. When he heard the curtain, he turned toward me and held both up.

  The pieces of material in his hands barely registered as I stared at his now very naked bottom half.

  “Towel?” he asked.

  I couldn’t help but look. Yes, he’d waved his goods around when we’d first met, but I’d been scared beyond imagination. I still felt jumpy and freaked out, but I also started to believe him. He acted like he’d never seen a girl before. He’d killed any infected or hound that came near me for the past two days, and he’d admitted he wanted to keep me safe. On top of all of that, he did help me get home.

  His eyes still seemed weird to me. Also, the ease in which he killed really worried me. And, his semi-erection didn’t ease my fears about what might yet happen if I continued in his company. But, for now, it seemed like I’d gotten my wish. I was safe.

  “Yeah, those are towels. We use the bigger ones to dry our bodies. The smaller one is for drying our hands when we wash them in the sink.”

  He grunted and brought the bigger towel to me. Keeping the curtain between us, I reached for it. This time, he didn’t tease me by keeping it out of my reach.

  With the towel in hand, I ducked back behind the curtain and quickly dried off. The big towel adequately covered my torso so I could step out without exposing myself.

  Drav hadn’t moved, which made my exit a little cozy. He took the opportunity to lean in to sniff me.

  “Why do you do that? Smell me, I mean. Do I smell bad? Good? Please don’t say you think of chicken when you smell me.”

  “You smell good. Not Drav.” He didn’t lean back to speak, so his words, close to my ear, made me shiver.

  “I smell different than you?” I asked, trying to ignore how very uncomfortable he was making me.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s probably the soap,” I said.

  I turned my back to him, pulled open the curtain, and reached for one of the bottles on the shower caddy. Drav’s hand slid up along my leg.

  “Hey,” I said, quickly spinning around holding the bottle. “No touching.”

  “Why no touching?”

  “Because it makes me uncomfortable.”

  “What not makes Mya uncomfortable?”

  “At this point in my life, everything is making me uncomfortable,” I said, giving him a flat look.

  “Towel uncomfortable?” The sly way he said it, and the slight upward curve on his mouth, made me snort.

  “Nice try, buddy. The towel is staying on, and you’re keeping your hands to yourself. Now, do you want me to explain how to use this stuff or not.”

  “Explain.”

  I quickly went over turning the water on and off and how to wash and rinse—along with a caution not to let soap get in his eyes—and suggested he remove his bandages.

  “Mya clean it.”

  “Nope, not this time. The shower will clean it.”

  He grunted then tore off the bandages without a wince. The wound already appeared well on its way to being healed.

  Lacking any hint of modesty, he lifted his leg high and stepped into the shower. Swallowing hard at the well-endowed sight of him, I turned away to grab my bag and leave the bathroom. The sound of the curtain closing and the shower starting assured me that he now believed I wouldn’t run. And, I wouldn’t. A considerable number of zombie infested miles still separated me from the cabin. I had the smarts to know that sticking with Drav increased my chances of seeing my family alive.

  Holding the towel tightly around my body, I made my way down the hall to my room. Even with all the lights on, the house felt eerie in its silence. Usually, Ryan had music playing or a TV show on, and the washer or drier would be running non-stop. I couldn’t help but smile a little at the memory. It always amazed Mom how much laundry four people could produce.

  In my room, I hurried to dig through my drawers for fresh clothes. Although Drav had set aside his curiosity about our physical differences just now, I knew it would resurface if he finished his shower before I managed to dress. Dropping the towel, I put on fresh underwear and a clean bra. It almost made me feel human again.

  I tugged on a pair of jeans and a tank-top before digging in my closet for an old hoodie. Walking here had been chilly, and it would only grow more so as the days passed. The hoodie I found had enough substance to it to keep me warm. I put it on, glad to get the mass of wet hair off my back.

  After towel drying my hair, I searched the top of my dresser for a hair-tie. I scraped my fingers through the wet strands and wrapped my long, thick hair into a tight bun on the back of my head.

  Glancing around the room, I tried to decide what more I needed in my bag. The thought of the blood splatter so close to my lips made me shudder. Soaps and washcloths were a must.

  “Mya,” Drav bellowed.

  I poked my head into the hallway. Drav stood just outside the bathroom door, dripping wet from his shower. His long black hair, the only thing covering him, hung loosely over his chest almost to his bellybutton.

  When he saw me, rage lit his eyes. He stormed toward me while stringing together a bunch of words and noises I couldn’t understand.

  “Whoa, what? Drav, what’s wrong?”

  He clutched his hair, then touched my head. I frowned, confused and just a bit afraid.

  “You don’t like my hair up? You had yours up.”

  “Where hair, Mya?”

  He was having a fit over my hair?

  “I tied it back.”

  His hand gripped my shoulder, and he spun me around. I felt a tug on my bun. A moment later, my wet hair came tumbling down. He combed his
fingers through the strands and pulled them away from my neck. A glance back confirmed he was once again smelling my hair. A contented rumble sounded from his chest.

  Okay, time to stop whatever was happening.

  “Please let go of my hair and go put some pants on. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

  Drav let out a quiet growl, clearly agitated that I stopped him mid-sniff, but he released my hair and left the room. I exhaled slowly, releasing any lingering anxiety. The things that set him off would probably never make sense to me.

  Focusing on my bag, I considered what we would need. It all depended on how long we’d be gone and how we’d be traveling. The cabin was a little over an hour away, roughly, by car. However, taking a vehicle seemed out of the question, given what Drav had done to the truck. Plus, the noise of the engine would draw too much attention from the infected. That left walking, which would take forever, especially since Drav would only allow us to walk at night. I tried doing the math in my head, using a five mile an hour estimate, and guessed it would take at least three nights of walking, minimum. More if we ran into trouble. So, I needed to pack light. I couldn’t be weighed down if I needed to run.

  I added three more pair of underwear and socks to what I already had packed, then left my bag on my bed while I went to my parents’ room to see what would fit Drav. He joined me a moment later. This time with pants on.

  “Go ahead and try those shirts on,” I said, pointing to the shirts I’d laid out on the bed. I turned back to the closet to start searching for more options.

  Behind me I heard the sound of fabric rustling, and I glanced at Drav in the mirror.

  Drav tried to pull the first t-shirt over his head, but the material got stuck by his ears. I hurried to him and helped tug the shirt the rest of the way down. It circled his neck snuggly, but he didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he continued to attempt squeezing into what I’d given him. A stitch ripped.

  “Hold up. You can ditch that one.”

  I started to help yank the tight fabric over his head, but he wrapped his hands around the neckline and ripped the top down the middle. I stared at the two pieces. He’d just ripped the shirt I had given my dad after I finished my freshman year at OU.

  “Oooh-kay, try this one.” I handed him an oversized flannel shirt.

  Drav manage to tug the shirt on, but the sleeves were tight around the biceps. One good flex and he’d be sleeveless.

  “Hang on. Let me go grab some of my brother’s stuff.” Ryan took after our dad but often bought a size too big to use when working out.

  I rifled through Ryan’s things, looking for his workout clothes. The athletic shorts would probably work if Drav needed something beside his sturdy pants. I tugged out a couple of longer navy t-shirts and a pair of loose black shorts.

  With my new finds bundled in my arms, I went to my room for scissors so I could cut into the neckline. Drav walked in before I finished.

  “Got more shirts for you to try.”

  I held up one of the t-shirts. He pulled it over his head. While the neckline was looser, thanks to the cut I’d made, the rest of the shirt molded to him like a second skin once he got his arms through the sleeves.

  “A bit snug but it will do. Let’s find a bag and we can head out.”

  “Head out?”

  “We have to go to my grandfather’s cabin. North of here.”

  I tucked his extra clothes into the bag with my stuff then went to the bathroom for the washcloth and soap. I was very tempted to take the toilet paper, just in case, but knew I didn’t have much room left. Two travel packs of tissues were the next best thing.

  Drav watched me from the doorway as I set everything on the bathroom counter and opened a vanity drawer. Before looking in my bedroom mirror, I hadn’t realized how disgusting I’d gotten. Now that I knew what to expect while traveling with Drav, I pulled three bands from my stash of hair ties.

  I raked my fingers through my hair to throw it up in a messy bun. Drav grabbed my wrist gently and stopped the movements.

  “Come.” He nudged me out of the bathroom back to my room where he tried steering me to the bed.

  “No, Drav. We still have plenty of night left. We have to go, not sleep.” Finding my family already gone had been a huge disappointment. The longer we stayed, the longer it would take us to find them, and the less chance I had of finding them healthy.

  When I turned to go back to the bathroom, he picked me up and sat me down on the bed. I glared up at him.

  “Stay. Mya hair.” He tugged at his strands then gently did the same to mine.

  “Are you telling me I can’t go outside with a wet head? Because, that’s dumb.”

  “No. Mya hair. Stay.”

  He sat beside me and combed his fingers through my hair.

  “We don't have time for this,” I said, growing frustrated with his apparent hair fetish.

  I moved to stand, but his hand caught my thigh and I sat back down with an “oof.”

  “Hair,” he said, sharply.

  He leaned in to smell it again, but before I could complain some more, his fingers delved into my hair. With quick, sure movements, he created three sections, gently parting the strands. I sighed and resigned myself to allowing him to play with my hair for a few minutes, hoping it would be enough time to get it out of his system.

  A couple of times, he found knots, which he slowly worked through. I focused on the mirror on the other side of the room and watched as he fashioned three French braids, two on the sides and one on the top of my head. When he finished, I had three braids tied together in the back. I looked stunningly badass, and his skill at braiding amazed me. The hair style would keep my hair much cleaner.

  I twisted on the bed and patted his knee.

  “Thank you.”

  I left before he could respond.

  In the bathroom, I grabbed the items I had planned to take. From there, I went to the kitchen and filled two reusable water bottles. I was checking the cabinets for light-weight portable food when Drav joined me. He’d braided his hair much like mine.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked.

  “Are you?”

  “I suppose we should eat before we head out.”

  I pulled out a can of pineapple chunks, popped the top open, and set it in front of Drav before turning back to the cupboards. We had a ton of canned food, but that would be too heavy.

  “Mya.”

  “Hmm.”

  Drav captured me by the shoulders and led me back to the table.

  “Mya, hungry. Eat.”

  He didn’t give me much of a choice. Sitting, I stuffed a chunk of pineapple in my mouth then attempted to stand again. He pushed me back into my seat and tried to feed me another piece. He didn’t relent and started to growl in frustration when I kept trying to get up and pack. I eventually gave in and ate the food he offered.

  Once we finished with our small meal, he helped me pack some granola bars and trail mix. I lifted my bag, judging the weight of it. Manageable. Sliding it onto my back, I looked around the kitchen one last time.

  The waning moon, still high in the sky, confirmed we had plenty of night remaining. But, leaving proved harder than I’d thought. A quiet part of my mind, because I had refused to acknowledge it, reared its ugly head.

  What if this was the last time I saw home?

  I shook my head. My family was my home, not the house or objects inside of it. None of that stuff mattered. Well, besides our cat. However, considering his reaction to Drav, he couldn’t come with us. I placed his bag of food out on the floor with the top open. He would have to self-feed, but I knew he would be okay until we could come back and get him.

  Drav went outside first and beckoned me forward. I set the direction, heading northwest toward my family’s cabin.

  Thirteen

  Once we left the last of the city lights and infected behind us, Drav walked beside me. We didn’t talk. Noise carried too far in the dark. Even the soft brush of our passing
through the dried grass worried me. However, Drav didn’t seem as tense now that we’d abandoned the city. He walked with fluid ease, taking slower steps so I didn’t have to jog to keep up as we traveled the countryside.

  Before the hellhounds invaded, we would have seen headlights on the roads we crossed or heard the distant hum of engines on the highway we passed. Instead, there was silence. Not even the chirp of crickets or chatter of small animals could be heard. The silence was the one unsettling, continuous reminder of just how much the world had changed. So, I focused on the slight sound of our passing until something distracted me.

  In the trees to our right, I saw a dot of light. White, not red. It disappeared, but I kept my eye on the spot and saw the light again a few feet later. A distant yard light to a house nestled in the trees. I wondered if the people who lived there had escaped the notice of the hounds and the infected. I hoped so. If they could survive this close to the city, my family had an even better chance at our cabin.

  Drav grabbed my arm without warning, jerking me to a stop. The aggressive way he angled himself in front of me and growled had my pulse spiking. I froze and peered ahead, trying to see what had provoked him. However, beyond the shadowy shapes of trees, shrubs, and grass, I couldn’t see a damn thing. I moved closer to Drav and wished for my flashlight. I should have walked with it in my hand instead of stuffing it in my bag.

  Drav growled again. From the darkness came a faint, answering growl. Something was definitely out there.

  Slowly, Drav straightened and said something. It wasn’t English, just a bunch of garbled nonsense to me. However, the same sounds came back from the dark. Another shadow man.

  “Crap.”

  Drav loosened his hold on my arm and looked at me. Gently, he ran his fingers over the area he’d grabbed.

  “I’m sorry, Mya. Arm fall off?” he questioned quietly.

  I almost told him it wouldn’t but reconsidered as I thought of the easy strength he’d used to pull the heads from all the infected bodies.