“You think it’s funny you depleted me so much, I couldn’t think straight?” he demanded playfully.
Her laughter spilled out like a waterfall, light and refreshing. “Or walk straight, apparently,” she threw over her shoulder as she fixed her own jeans.
His grin only widened. He loved that this feisty women submitted to him in bed and gave as good as she got out of bed. “I just hope I don’t slip in the shower.”
New peals of laughter came from her.
“You could always join me?” he said with a raised eyebrow as she looked back at him.
“I could,” she replied, her voice breathy.
He fixed his clothing, grinning like a fool, feeling almost human for the first time since… In spite of the deep pit in his heart he figured would never go away—and really, it shouldn’t—he could find contentment with her.
How long would they be safe there?
Chapter Seventeen
Is it odd to find happiness and contentment in the midst of such horrors? I believed not. I believed that it was how the human race continued on, part of our defense mechanism for the survival of the human race.
Maybe it explained the extreme level of my feelings for her, this, surviving a death moment together. The thankfulness of being alive. Maybe. Whatever it was, I planned to hold on tight to it. Otherwise, the darkness, the putrid, oily blight on my soul would take over. Win.
I have to do whatever I could to prevent that. Not only for me, but for my son. For Karla and Rachel.
But, maybe these times of contentment, these highs, made the lows worse. Maybe, keeping my feelings open to Karla made things worse for me in the long run.
No, it kept me human. Kept me from despair. And I needed every edge I could get to defeat despair, because the worst hadn’t even happened yet.
Karla
How in the world did he do that? He’d just given her three major orgasms. Not little, oh good at least I got to come orgasms, but tell the world, romance book orgasms, and yet, he could turn her on with the arch of his brow.
To busy herself and hide the embarrassment that her body had turned into a lustful inferno which couldn’t be satisfied for five minutes, she rubbed the haunches of the horse nearest her. “I really should give them a good rubdown. They’ve been in so many places. Why don’t you go in and check on Jack and Rachel. I’ll be fine for a bit.”
“Unless that’s your nice way of saying you want to be alone, I’ll call him instead. Service seems to be good, and if he’s kissing on his girlfriend, I don’t want to embarrass him.”
“No, it wasn’t a hint. I just really want to spend a little extra time with my horses. They like being rubbed down, and this barn is fully equipped. I saw a tack room near a door over there. Probably used by the foreman when this place was a working ranch.”
“How do you know it was a working ranch?” She heard the skepticism in his voice, but didn’t get offended.
“The house and barns are far enough away from each other for the smell not to get to the house, but close enough to take care of the animals without adding extra time. And, as we came in, I saw an old foundation on what may or may not be adjacent property, and would bet it was an old ranch hand place. There is rich meadowland, with a stream running through it, and another smaller creek. Would be a natural place for one. Then there’s this barn. You don’t build something this size for weddings. You build smaller, and more open. Look at this old growth beam. I bet it’s original, off this very property. It’s been well maintained and modernized, but it’s still old.”
His eyes bore holes through her, he looked at her so intently.
“What,” she said, testily. “I’m not a freak.”
“No, you’re wonderful. That’s amazing. I didn’t realize you knew so much about things like that.”
Now she felt heat staining her cheeks. “Architecture is a hobby of mine. Since I love horses, I tend to gravitate to sites and magazines which talk about the designs of barns, old and new.” And again with the babbling.
As if he’d read her thoughts, he grinned and pulled out his cell phone. She moved to the tack room and dug up two brushes, as well as some extra oats she found in the back. She’d bet it cost a pretty penny to stable the horses here for the guests.
“Okay, fine. Glad the television’s working. We’ll see you in half hour or so, I’d guess. Love you.”
“How’d he sound?” she asked as soon as he hung up.
“Tired, relieved, and distracted.”
“Then it’s a good thing you stayed with me. Here,” she said and handed him a brush. “When we’re done, we’ll give them both a bit of oats.”
The next few minutes were spent in companionable silence as they brushed down her horses. She started on the foreleg of her mare, Thunder, and felt something sticky. Concerned, she went to the water main and wet down a rag. When she returned, she bent over and began gently washing the area. Thunder jerked back a little, but didn’t resist the cleaning. However, the more she cleaned the more worried she got.
“Seb,” she said, trying to keep the fear which had started to claw its way into her mind out of her voice. “Can you go to my horse trailer and tell me what you find? See if there’s anything sharp or whatnot that Thunder could have hurt herself on.”
Seb came over to the stall where she now sat on the small stool she’d taken in earlier. “What is it?”
“Look.” Karla couldn’t voice her fears in the superstitious idea it would make them come true.
Seb bent closer and started to reach for the leg and run his hand down. Karla saw it for the classic move it was in horsemen everywhere to check for heat, or bumps, or whatever. She grabbed his hand forcefully. He jerked his face toward her questioningly.
“Don’t touch it,” she said quietly.
The concern flickered in his eyes before he looked back down and saw what she’d cleaned off. Four vertical scratches. Not huge, although they raked down the foreleg. But it was the ripped piece of flesh out of the lower leg that had caused the real fear. And for her to stop cleaning.
Something had bit her horse. Karla wept silently as she moved Thunder to a new stall as far away from Lightning as she could. Maybe it wasn’t too late for her gelding, although Lightning would have to be checked as well. She’d saved a long time to earn enough money for a horse. She’d started before she’d been out of high school. While all her friends wanted a car, she wanted a horse. A good horse.
Not a hack with no fire. Something strong, beautiful, and full of life.
After what had felt like forever to her young self, she’d found the two from an older couple who were trying to find good homes. They’d listened to her “ooh” and “ah” over Lightning, then showed her Thunder. Thunder and she bonded instantly, and she knew that whatever it took, she’d be buying the mare.
She’d been afraid to ask how much for both horses because she wanted and had to have both. Lightning and Thunder had bonded to her. Gripping her courage in both hands, she’d swallowed hard and asked, “How much for both of these horses?”
The couple had looked at each other and at his wife’s nod, the man had said the most beautiful words she’d heard in her life. “Thunder is yours, for free. She was our daughter’s horse before she died and isn’t for sale. We’ve been waiting for the right person.”
Karla had stuck her face in Thunder’s mane and cried. At twenty-two, finished with college and with a good job, she’d cried. They’d politely ignored her until she could speak again, then they’d agreed on a price for Lightning.
She’d arranged for the boarding place to get her horses, and worked a second job until she had enough money for a double trailer. Thunder’s bond with her had grown, and they’d been a good team on and off the trails. Parade ribbons, trophies, and lots and lots of loving hands at fairs as kids wanted to touch the horses. Thunder and Lightning had both been rare horses that hadn’t been skittish of all the people. In fact, they’d basked in it and pranced for th
e crowds.
A shuddering breath wracked her body as the tears continued to stream down her cheeks. She couldn’t lose her horses, she just couldn’t.
“Karla,” Seb shouted. “Bring your gun.”
“I’m coming,” she called and took out her forty-five as she ran to the horse trailer. Seb stood, his knife out, facing a squirrel standing on its hind legs and growling, as if it were a dog.
What in the hell?
“It must have gotten in at Rimrock Retreat,” he said calmly. “The horses would have freaked back at camp if something had been in there, and we would have noticed. Not so much when...”
She agreed with his assessment, but so what? The damage was done. She blew the squirrel’s head off with one shot. “Get the hose and clean out the trailer,” she said dully.
Water. Her horses had pulled her into water, and they’d dunked their heads into the water trough. It was all she could think of to do. She went inside the barn and washed down the stalls and soaked her horses with it, paying particular attention to the legs and any wounds she saw. Afterward, she rummaged around until she found some antiseptic spray and sprayed the wounds.
The tears dried up when she saw Lightning also had bites on him. Her heart turned to stone, and she just kept moving, doing what she could, but with little hope left. Seb came in about the same time she’d started putting the antiseptic on the horses.
“I’ve cleaned out the whole trailer. Put the straw in a pile and burned it while I washed the metal.”
“Doesn’t matter now.”
“What? Why?”
“I’ll have no horses to put in it. Look.” With a flick of her wrist in the general direction of Lightning, she continued to bandage up Thunder’s legs. She’d care for the horses until the last, for what they once were to her, for the good times they had together. No way would she give up all hope until she had to.
After the horses were both bandaged, Seb took her hand and brought her inside. And though she’d fought against leaving the horses, he’d insisted. “We don’t know what’ll happen. They’re not prey animals, but horses are battle animals. We will check on them in the morning. I’m not risking you as well.”
Her heart snapped another fraction as she heeded his words. She hadn’t thought back to horses’ general use for most of their existence. “God, I hate this,” she said. Unfortunately, instead of the pragmatic “this is bad” tone she tried to convey, her voice cracked and tears spilled again. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually this weak.”
“Oh, honey,” Seb said and wrapped her in his arms.
Why the hell did he have to go and be so nice? Now she sobbed. He made soothing noises and slid one hand down her hair, and let her cry. Her nose filled up with snot and her head pounded. Those horses meant everything to her. Dreams, life, her ability to get what she wanted. Love and friendship.
The tears and wracking sobs came out harder. Seb didn’t say anything, just continued to hold her. Finally, she stepped back and looked for something to wipe her nose with. “I’m sorry,” she said, though it came out all garbled.
“It’s okay.” Apparently, he spoke hysterical woman. “I know how much those horses mean to you. You’ve got pictures of them at your desk, and nearly every vacation you’ve taken since I’ve known you has revolved around them.”
“Oh.” What could she say? “Thanks for noticing,” seemed hardly appropriate, yet she was grateful. And it endeared him to her even more that he noticed that her horses were a big part of her life. As if she needed more reasons to be obsessed. “We have to tell them,” she finally said.
“I know.” But he didn’t move.
“Let’s go in and see how they are. Maybe it can wait ‘til morning.”
He mumbled an agreement that to her sounded like relief, and she completely understood. The teens hadn’t had long in their haven, and now they had to be told that the problem was at their door?
Damn it all to hell. When would it end?
Chapter Eighteen
The horses. Oh God, the horses. Everything hurt from the emotional pain just watching Karla go through this.
It had never occurred to me that horses could become zombies. Really, it should have. I mean, horses are mammals, like cats, dogs, people. But I hadn’t gotten used to the idea of a virus that crossed all breeding rules—from human to animal and back.
Raw fear welled up inside of me, threatening to make me weep uncontrollably for my son, for the future he wouldn’t have. But more, there was the real fear that we’d brought a dangerous animal with us to this haven of safety.
I still have nightmares of what the horse looked like when the virus spread. That night I saw the true courage of the woman whom I consider my mate. In this time of survival, I forgot about her age and only saw her for the remarkable woman she was.
I thought Karla would break, and I guess in a way she did. But she held it together when we went back into the house. Much better than I did.
And I’m still stalling.
Writing the next bit is too hard, and I just can’t stop feeling the pain. It’s too fresh, too new, too raw.
So many lives lost. Does anyone ever know the true death toll? How many homeless and unaccounted for? How many lost in other countries?
The horses. Jack and Rachel. I—
I’m sorry.
It’s smudged from my tears. I can’t write it again, though.
I just can’t.
Sebastian
He held her tightly, having no words for the pain, especially so close on losing Ruff. He struggled to find hope within himself, to give it to her, but he could only hold her as she sobbed.
She quieted a lot quicker than he would have thought, but still, they remained together, comforting each other for a few more minutes.
Hand in hand, they went to go inside, but then he had the worst idea…
“What if some of the infected blood got on us, despite your using gloves when fixing them up? We need to wash off with the hoses. I have extra shoes in my truck. Plus, we haven’t brought our things in.”
The pallor of her face became even worse. He wished he didn’t have to say these things, that he could pretend they were fine.
In silence, they both went to their respective cars, and stripped down. He put his clothes in a pile and lit them on fire, drizzling a small amount of gas on them. Karla added hers as well. After all their clothing and shoes began to burn, they moved off a ways and sprayed each other with a hose—and fuck if the cold wasn’t welcome, for about thirty seconds. Then he hated it. They grabbed a towel from their bags and dried off. Then those were added to the fire pile.
They’d have to find a better way to deal with things so they didn’t lose all their clothing. He made a mental note to make something to put clothes in from the outside which they could carry to the laundry. After they were clean, they dressed and went inside, hand in hand, though still not saying much.
As if choreographed, they walked over to the large flat screen. The eleven o’clock news had just started.
“Our top story remains the strange virus which causes people to kill and eat each other. Authorities have released an official report of the cities that have been identified as having the virus. Those places have been put on quarantine, and no one is allowed in or out. The National Guard and Army are standing by. Scientists are frantically searching for a cure. They’ve been given until noon tomorrow. Otherwise, sources in the military say these cities will be permanently secured by any means necessary.
“Americans all over are protesting, as some have revealed this could mean torching or bombing, but many have put down their picket signs as online videos like this one have hit the Internet. The footage we are about to show contains violence, gore, and disturbing images. This is not intended for young viewers, or those with weak constitutions.”
Chapter Nineteen
The news…
In horror, we watched. I’d wanted to know. Wanted to see, to learn. But the knowing didn’
t help us. It didn’t give me peace of mind.
It didn’t give any of us peace of mind.
Regardless of what that television newscaster said, I couldn’t hide this from the kids. I admit, I again possessed the wish to protect the teens, to cover their eyes while the worst blared across the large flat screen in the living room. To tell them to go to their rooms so they didn’t see the atrocities on the television.
To give them some of their childhood back.
But all this…
Never the same.
I had always understood on an intellectual level that war torn countries suffered emotionally, mentally, and physically from having such a violent state of existence be their norm. I had understood, intellectually, that it made sense to be severely impacted, that it was a horrible experience for them to have to go through, that the kids especially held a lifetime of pain from it. Understood and was grateful for the chance to raise my son in relative safety.
Now I understood on a deep, personal level what all that meant.
How did I learn and help them through this? Help Karla? Help myself?
Karla stared at the flat screen, a deadening numbness in her heart. One which had started to become her new norm. The newscast, after the brief warning, cut to a video. Groups of people milled about in a park somewhere, but instead of picnics and lemonade and soda and volleyball or whatever, the people were eating each other. Men and women, gnawing on arms and bones. Licking their fingers, then growling a little and eating more of the body they had. Kids were screaming and running—the ones not being eaten or doing the eating.
Blood flowed freely. Body parts strewn on the ground in mangled bits which people alternately stepped on or picked up like a drumstick.
Her gut twisted into knots. How… Why… God, help them all. All those children. And worse, they weren’t all wild and growling. They weren’t all easily identified as monsters on the screen. It could be any barbeque in the park. Some were laughing, others were talking loudly. A few kids ran around giggling, chewing on fingers or other unidentifiable things. Karla didn’t want to identify them.
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