by Rose Francis
He had even started thinking about her past with his best friend, and he had to try to suppress his rage over the thought of her being with him.
He wished that there was a way he could erase every man from her past, but for now, the only way he could think to do it, was to take her over and over again.
“What are you doing to me?” he said as he spilled his seed yet again. He hadn’t bothered to take her advice about getting condoms. “Why can’t I get enough of you?”
“Good,” she spat, almost snarling in satisfaction.
“Good?” he replied, before climbing on top of her again to begin the seduction process once more.
Her vicious, triumphant look disappeared quickly.
As her body started opening to him and she was again begging him to take her, Steven realized that his power was lost somewhere between leaving her body as he was about to explode, and ejaculating on the ground beside them. That he couldn’t release himself in her seemed to be the only power she had left, and she seemed to know it and relish it; she had practically been smirking the last time he wasted his seed.
He had to own her, take her faster, harder, more…
“You didn’t pull out this time,” he heard her say in a worried voice, sometime after his hearing returned and stars behind his eyes faded to black.
“I don’t care,” he said, meaning it.
He snacked on the new brand of fear emanating from her.
*
“Oh god—will you give me a break?” Serena said as he climbed on top of her again, just a few hours later.
“Not until I own you. Completely. Not until I know you’re mine.”
“But what do you want from me?” she cried, the quality of her voice making him pause and examine her.
To his horror, he noticed that her beautiful face was streaked with iridescent tears.
His heart fell, and his sexual desire was trumped by the desire to stop those streams of despair, and mostly, stop that look of helplessness in her eyes. It was what he thought he had been gunning for, but the thought that she was hurting in some way—that she was despairing for any reason—was twisting his heart in a way he hadn’t felt in ages.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Stop torturing me, please…haven’t you had enough? What more do you want? What more can I give you?”
“I want you to have my child,” he heard leave his mouth, yet he almost didn’t recognize his own voice.
Her face looked as shocked as he felt.
“What?” she asked in a whisper, and he thought it was himself questioning himself for a moment.
“That’s what I want,” he said, affirming it to himself.
“It makes no sense,” she said in a wondrous tone, shaking her head.
It makes perfect sense, he thought. The way his body responded to her—it was completely biological, a need that he hadn’t known he possessed, a secret desire that had only now made its way to the surface. Isn’t it what every man wanted and was programmed to do? To replicate, procreate, duplicate?
So many of their kind had died anyway, and so fast. If they survived, they would probably be partially responsible for repopulating their country…
“Have you completely lost your mind? Did you eat some shady mushrooms lately?”
“I want you to swell with my child, Serena. I want to see you grow with my baby inside of you. I want you to give this to me.”
“But why me? Why now? This is so crazy…”
“I don’t know why, but I know that that’s what my body has been going for. Especially considering the last few times…I couldn’t stop myself. You’re probably pregnant now.”
He almost didn’t see the slight transformation in her face as he surprised himself again—his heart soaring in a way he didn’t think it was capable of. What was this? Why did his pounding organ feel like it would lift right out of his chest in joy at the thought of her right now, carrying his seed?
He closed his eyes and took in a breath to try to ground himself.
Then he caressed her cheek, brushing it with his thumb.
He wanted to say so much to her, but he had no words for what was going through him.
He kissed her forehead instead.
Thoughts kept assaulting him, but he continued to push them away, wanting to focus on soothing her. The only thought that succeeded in getting through was the one whispering that he never wanted to see her cry again.
CHAPTER TEN: SURRENDER
Serena realized, as Steven kissed her tears away, that she was broken. For all the times she had patted herself on the back for keeping her heart safe in dangerous situations, Steven had finally managed to rip it out of her.
Although she had no defense against his seductions, she had been able to emotionally resist the effect of being physically disarmed over and over—to push aside the feeling of helplessness and vulnerability that came with being at his mercy once the act was over. She had been able to fight off his capture of her heart all the time he had been abusing his power to seduce her.
But the tenderness he was now showing finally did her in.
He whispered soothing words, all while touching her and handling her as if he loved her. Every soft kiss he planted, and every gentle caress he made felt like what she tried to resist feeling for him, and the mere possibility of him feeling such a way made a dam burst inside of her, and there was no going back.
She didn’t want him to know how she felt, but she wasn’t sure how she could hide it from him now.
Would he see it in her eyes? Would he see the difference between the day he told her to come with him to safety, and today, after making her come with him in ecstasy, over and over?
She knew that her desire for him was the culprit. The fear she began to feel at that first look of longing from him years ago was because of how much she realized she wanted him back. Completely.
Had she not been attracted to him in return, her anger and disgust would have kept her safe when he came for her and tried to seduce her. And if he had succeeded, despite her initially not wanting him back, her desire for revenge would have kept her going as she waited for the opportunity to make him pay for tricking her body into giving up the goods to him, despite her heart not being in it.
But since she was thirsty for everything he was giving her—every which way, as rough or easy, and as many times as he wanted to give it—she was helpless, and surrendering to him completely had only been a matter of time.
Even now, as he made love to her again, part of her satisfaction came from relief—the relief of finally having him without having to worry about loyalty or duty. The relief of satiating a too-long suppressed need.
“Give it to me,” she heard him say suddenly, as he continued thrusting into her. “Give me your heart.”
Serena felt her heart lifting to his request. She wanted to say no, but her throat choked back the lie.
She closed her eyes tightly, as if that would help her resist him.
“Why?” she managed to whisper.
“I want you to stay with me,” he said softly, his voice sounding squeezed. Then it lowered to a barely audible whisper: “I love you.”
The words made her open her eyes, and when she saw him lean toward her for a kiss, she let him kiss her, her heart firmly in the palm of his hand.
*
It was time.
Steven knew that he would never be ready to let Serena go, but he had taken too many risks. The longer she was out there with him, the higher the chances were that he would slip up and lose her forever, one way or another. He could risk it no longer.
He finally felt, to some degree, satiated, but he knew that she would haunt him—the sight, smell, and taste of her—from then on. Serena had gotten under his skin long ago, and she had gone on to burrow into his heart.
He loved her, and he had to do everything in his power to save her—which meant that he had to finally turn the APC back around and head in the right direction.
&n
bsp; In less than four hours she would be out of his grasp, and the pain of the realization rocked him to the core.
He would have to go back out into the world and continue fighting for his country, all while fighting off thoughts of her—distracting thoughts that would, no doubt, jeopardize his safety. One split second of daydreaming—of indulging in a beautiful memory—could end his life, and he now looked forward to the other possibilities life held with a fervor he hadn’t felt since graduating high school.
A life with Serena—that’s what he wanted more than anything, and all the kids that came with it.
All this time, he had figured he would find a way to get over her once they went their separate ways as he’d had to do with pretty much every relationship throughout his life, but when she finally let him kiss her, an explosion went off inside of him—and her—as the feel of her supple lips and warm, inviting mouth and probing tongue overwhelmed him.
The thing that he had been gunning for, she gave to him willingly, happily, and deliciously. And all he wanted was more.
He didn’t think that it was possible to desire her more than he had, but every time he thought his desire for her had reached its peak, it tripled, and he needed to find a new way to claim her. He felt a need for her almost like oxygen, and he wondered if he was past relief. Would he ever get enough of Serena Moss?
She had never taken his best friend’s last name, but maybe someday, she’d take his.
*
Serena squinted at the bright lights suddenly assaulting her, and she couldn’t tell who had grabbed her out of the back of the APC. Armed bodies surrounded her and the vehicle, and she couldn’t make out any faces, the light almost blinding her.
She was rushed along and tried to find Steven’s body among the silhouettes of others. Surely he was right behind her or somewhere close by?
As the terrain shifted and she realized that she was now inside of a building of sorts, the lights changed, and her eyes slowly adjusted to them, but the flurry of bodies still made it hard to see—some with surgical masks, others in military gear.
She still saw no sign of Steven and her heartbeat quickened further.
As she was whisked away for what she assumed was a routine check, she remembered Steven’s desire to impregnate her, and she wondered if the doctors would be able to tell if he had succeeded.
Her hand instinctively went to her stomach.
“Do you know this survivor, Steve?” she heard a female voice say. “Is she anything to you?”
Serena’s heart raced and she whipped her head around to visually locate Steven, and she saw him standing casually by the open doorway, his eyes intently on her. His mouth held a slight smile.
She felt a rush of emotion pass through her at the sight of him, and she wanted nothing more than to embrace him, but she knew that she had to stay in place while the doctors did their work.
“That’s my woman,” Steven said as he headed toward her, and Serena noticed several eyebrows in the room raise. “And she’s everything to me. So you guys better take care of her while I’m gone—I’m coming back for her.” He paused about a foot away from her. “You hear that, Serena?” Then he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Give us a second, Em,” he said to the main person who had been checking her out.
‘Em’ stood a few feet back, and was barely out of the way before Steven was kissing her hungrily, as if he had no shame, no care in the world, and wasn’t aware of all the pairs of eyes now staring at them.
Serena accepted his mouth on hers greedily.
When he pulled away, he said, “I will do everything in my power to come back to you.”
A wave of deja vu hit Serena, and fear rocked her.
“Do you really have to go?” she asked, holding on to his hands.
“You know I have to—I’m one of few who can safely take the Morphs down while combing for survivors, and I already told you why.”
Serena hung her head, still not wanting to accept it. Stop being selfish, she told herself. Think of all those people out there who…
“There’s something else I guess you should know before I head back out there,” he said, and the look in his eye had changed.
Serena’s heart felt like it had stopped.
“I’m no longer a carrier,” he began, “not since the first and only ten minutes of being infected.” Then his voice lowered to a whisper as he brought his mouth to her ear: “I am Patient Zero,” he said, and then backed away to let Em continue her work.
Serena knew her mouth was hanging open.
How dare he leave her like that? What did he mean? She had so many questions!
As she started working her mouth to ask them, a brawny, dark-headed guy in military gear said, “Steve, let’s go,” and before she knew it, Steven had been whisked away to who knew where.
But before he disappeared from her sight, Serena caught a look on his face—a look of such love and anguish—before his expression melted into a brilliant, reassuring smile, that she knew in her gut it wasn’t an ending for them at all; it was merely the beginning.
PART TWO
A
TALE
OF
TWO
ZOMBIES
CHAPTER ELEVEN: STRUGGLE
Dehydration, Derek thought at first, as the headache slammed into him, making him close his eyes and hold his fingertips to his temple as if they could draw out the pain. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a drink of water, so he figured that was the reason why his head was being ambushed by such a sensation. He needed to find somewhere with water fast, and with the last car he had picked up having run out of gas, he was in a bit of a quandary—especially here at the edge of California, where the next gas station was over thirty miles away.
Or had water been the problem in the first place?
Derek remembered coming across a bottle half-filled with water, and he was so thirsty, he didn’t care whose lips had been on it before.
The pain in his head distracted him long enough that he forgot all about the tears and rips in his arm.
Aha! Now he remembered—he’d had to fight off a diseased man recently. The man was unarmed, and Derek felt quite confident in his military training, and the skills he had picked up from dabbling in MMA, plus the muscles he had bulked up from workouts and powders.
He had been able to fight the man off, ending up with barely a scratch, and he had given the man a knife through the head for his trouble.
But wasn’t that a problem also? Getting scratched? Even having the blood of the infected squirting into your eye?
Derek couldn’t think properly—the searing pain in his head was getting the better of him. He felt an irresistible urge to find some shade somewhere, anywhere where the light wasn’t so bright, and where it wasn’t so warm.
Surely he would come across some kind of store or something soon. In the absence of one, he had no doubt that he would run into another abandoned car sooner or later—maybe he could lie in there for a bit. And maybe the previous owners happened to have a blanket in the backseat or trunk that he could throw over his head and block the light with.
*
It returned with a vengeance, and Derek now remembered it happening before: the burning urge to rip the top of someone’s head open and get at their brains, or perhaps tear apart their abdomen and gorge on their intestines. To somehow get to the pulsing human parts and the rich iron within.
The hunger seized him, like nothing he had ever felt before—not even when he felt like he would die of thirst, and needed to drink something, anything.
He would quench himself now, anyway—on blood.
*
A body lay near him, freshly ripped open.
Derek wondered how he had gotten to the woman lying near him—most of the healthy knew better than to be visible at night.
He also realized that somehow, in some part of his brain, he was accepting what he had become, however temporarily.
It had happene
d enough times that Derek could no longer deny it.
Soon, he remembered fighting off his first exposure. Then his second. Then his third.
He realized that he never got sicker; he only felt his temperature raise, and then ten or so minutes later, his temperature went back to normal, and the horrible images and all-consuming desire subsided. Except it was never actually ten minutes—not according to his watch. It always felt like it, but he lost a few days in between. Besides, the damage he had done to some of the bodies—he doubted he could do it in just ten minutes. But then again, who knew? Those moments were lost to his memory.
He wondered how many people he had eaten. How many had escaped his grasp with or without a scratch? How many people had he taken down and turned into the diseased?
Derek checked his watch.
Yup, he had lost two days again. And he was still terribly thirsty.
He needed to be more careful—another bite and who knew if he would recover again? What if he ran into a new strain? He couldn’t keep taking his natural resistance for granted.
Plus, just as he had sniffed out and cornered this woman somehow, he could fall victim to smarter, predatory diseased segments who could sniff beyond his temporary infection and recognize the fresh meat within. That was possible, right? He didn’t really know. And because of that, he needed to plan better, and shield himself somehow should night catch him again.
He had to make sure he had somewhere to go—somewhere safe to wait out the night hours as if he were a regular person at risk.
He didn’t know how far away he was from where he knew would be a safe haven, but he knew that he could make it—as long as he kept water with him, and shelter near.
He found himself wondering where his brother was at this very moment. Steven was no doubt showing off somewhere, playing the hero. Probably taking down the diseased and saving the healthy like some character from a superhero movie.
“You think you’re God’s gift, don’t you?” he had asked Steven once. It felt like so long ago, but it was just within the past two years, when they happened to both be on vacation the same time, and they had stayed in San Diego instead of flying off to some exotic place—Jamaica, or Hawaii—for fun.