Love Starts With Z

by Tera Shanley

  “I’m a hybrid. My parents are human, but I have second generation immunity.”

  “Do you have any superpowers?” a blond haired boy of sixteen or so asked from behind Bossman.

  “Would you consider sarcasm a superpower?”

  “No,” he answered seriously.

  “Then no.” So it was a lie, but they didn’t need to know any of her cards.

  “She’s lying,” Tattoo Face snarled. “She’s had fight training. Nearly gutted me when I took her.”

  “Everyone alive has had fight training,” she said blandly. “I wouldn’t consider something so common a superpower. And I’m pretty sure anyone would try to gut someone who was attempting to kidnap them.”

  “Shut your smart mouth.”

  “Why do you wear feathers in your hair?” the boy asked.

  “Michael,” Bossman warned.

  “Can I open my smart mouth to answer?” she asked Tattoo Face.

  He only scowled so she said, “Because I like the way they look.”

  Good lord, her head ached something fierce. And if she could feel it, she probably looked like she’d been trampled by a horse.

  “Where were you and your team headed?” Bossman asked.

  “Mexico. We heard the weather is lovely this time of year.”

  Bossman spat on the floorboards and narrowed his eyes. “You’re joining the war, ain’t you? Hippy dippy idiots think you’re going to change the world by offing a few walkers. Well I’ve got news for you. There are way too many of them and too few meat bags. You’ll only feed the horde and keep them alive longer.”

  She shrugged. “Noted. Can I go now?”

  His dark eyebrows shot up as he laughed. “Go? Dead, you ain’t goin’ nowhere. ’Cept maybe the bottom of a shallow grave. Old Troy here would’ve shot you down in the woods, but I was curious about what one of our boys told me yesterday. Said some team of fighters had a pet Dead with them, and that the Dead was giving the humans orders. Imagine my surprise when I heard this. I mean, humans bowing down to Deads.” He grinned at Tattoo Face Troy. “Now ain’t that the damndest thing? But rules is rules, and we have a strict no Dead left behind policy. Why did you think Castle Rock was so empty of zombies?” He thumped himself on the chest and beamed. “That’s our territory, just like the woods you was campin’ in was ours too.”

  “It didn’t have a sign.”

  “Oh, it did, you just missed them. We had graffiti painted across the whole dadgummed city. Coffee?”

  He stood and sauntered over to a French press, poured dark, pungent liquid into a dirty looking tin cup and offered it.

  Why did she get the feeling that telling him she only ate raw meat would shave minutes off her already short lifespan? “I can’t hold the cup. My hands are tied.”

  “Duh,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. She got the feeling he was much more intelligent than he was putting on, and it made him seem more dangerous somehow. “Here, let me.” He leaned forward until the cup was within an inch of her lips. His hand was so close, if she could only bite him. He didn’t smell vaccinated. Just a nip from her would be enough to turn him in minutes, but the man kept his hand just far enough away to make her hesitate, as if he expected it. His eyes swam with triumph as she sipped the scorching liquid that tasted like burned bark and dirt. Hell, maybe it was. Gulping it down and praying it would stay put until he wasn’t looking, she gave him a stiff smile and said, “Thank you.”

  His eyes were hard and humorless as he said, “My pleasure. We’ll be executing you at dusk. My boys have been working so hard and deserve a break, so I think we’ll make a little party out of it, what do you think, Troy?”

  “I think they’d love that, sir.”

  “Good. Let’s get our creative minds into the think tank and come up with some fun ways for her to die, shall we? Meanwhile, you sit tight and let us know if there is anything we can get you.” He stood and strode to the door. “You’re our guest, after all.”

  Troy followed and the door slammed, taking the wind right out of the room. She bit back a curse as the coffee she’d ingested made its way back up, coloring the floor beside her.

  “I don’t like that stuff none either,” Michael admitted from his seat on a crude wooden bed across the room. “You want some water instead?”

  “Please, can you untie me so I can hold the glass myself?”

  “Mmm, I don’t think my uncle would be too happy with me if I did that. I’ll just have to feed it to you like he did. If you got away, he’d kill me and spit on my carcass.”

  “But he’s your uncle. Why would he do that?”

  “He’s got a colony to run, and he didn’t get to where he is by letting people cross him.”

  “Please,” she pleaded. “I have a family. A man is waiting for me back where I come from. Please, just let me go.” The boy seemed soft, and this was the only chance she’d get to bargain for her life, so there it was. Everything was laid out for him. All he had to do was cut her loose, and she could do the rest. Yes, she’d happily take out the entire colony if it meant she could see the people she loved again, but Michael likely wouldn’t want to hear that.

  “You’re a tricky one,” he said with a grin. “But Deads don’t love people. You might think you do, but it’s not the same feeling as humans have about other humans.”

  “I am human!”

  “Then why do you look like a Dead?” He walked crisply over to a canteen and poured water into a cup, then allowed her a drink. “You ain’t a human any more than I’m a Dead. Best you accept that, or your fate tonight is going to be mighty confusing for you.”

  The boy hummed to himself as he put away the cup, and she searched the tiny room for anything she could use as a weapon.

  Dusk. She had until dusk to find a blade. All she needed was one blade, and she could wreak havoc on this colony. If she was going to die tonight, she didn’t want to do it tied like an animal in some sick death game one of Bossman’s psychopaths had concocted.

  She wanted to go down fighting.

  Chapter Twenty

  THE SINKING SUN cast lengthening shadows across the floor. They reached for Soren, and an irrational fear seized her that when the shadows touched her feet, her time would be up.

  So far she’d only managed to fight the ties that bound her hands enough to do damage, and now the entire room smelled strongly of iron. Swallowing the whimper that scratched its way through her chest, she wiped the emotion from her face as the door handle turned.

  “Do you hear that noise?” Bossman asked as he entered.

  A clank, clank of metal resonated through the open window, and she nodded.

  “They are hammering two stakes about a body’s width apart, and the echo you’re hearing is from the manacles dangling from them. I wouldn’t want you to be unprepared when you see where you’ll die. It seems our boys have been very frustrated by the amount of hunting they’ve had to do with all these Deads migrating through our territory, and they’ve been planning all day for your demise. We’re popping popcorn as we speak for the festivities. You should consider this an honor. No other Dead’s death has been revered so much in the history of the apocalypse. Are you ready?”

  No, she was not freaking ready to die for show. Time was up. He approached with one corner of his thin lips turned up in a smile that she’d only seen on Mark. Hands down, this was the worst twenty-four-hour block of time ever.

  Limply, she contorted her face until she hoped he would read defeat, and as she rocked back, she kicked her legs out, battering his chest, which sent him sprawling.

  Good thing she wouldn’t feel this. Grunting, she pulled her tied wrists underneath her bottom, and squirmed until they were in front of her.

  Bossman roared and untangled himself from the table of clutter he’d blasted into and charged.

  Weaponless, she turned and jumped out the window.

  And right at that moment, she realized the room she’d been locked in all day was in a damned t
ree. A tree! Panicking, she flung her hands out and hooked the zip tie onto a sturdy wooden peg on a crude wraparound porch. Panting, she looked down. From here it was a good thirty foot drop between her dangling feet and the unforgiving ground. The colony didn’t have gates, from what she could see, but they didn’t need them. Almost every building had been constructed in the canopy, and Deads couldn’t climb.

  Boom! An explosion rocked the tree, loosening the peg. She yelped as the warm air brushed her skin and stared in confusion at the blazing building on the edge of the grove.

  “What the hell?” she breathed.

  “Find out who set that fire,” Bossman barked at a trio of guards on the ground. He turned a frosty glare to her. “I have something to take care of here.” His boots made a hollow sound against the porch.

  Arms shaking, she grunted and tried to haul herself higher to lessen the strain on her fatiguing muscles.

  “Looks like you got yourself in a little spot, Dead. Pity the boys will have to miss their fun.”

  They won’t have to miss their death game, Bossman, she mouthed.

  “What’s that?” he asked, leaning closer.

  “They’ll have Deads to play with after all,” she whispered, then used every last ounce of upper body strength she possessed to pull herself up and kiss his mouth.

  The peg gave under the strain, and she watched his face transform with the recognition of what she’d done to him as she fell to the earth. Her death would come, and she wouldn’t fight the inevitable, so she swam in his fear filled eyes as he wiped a hand across his mouth. Her final revenge was bittersweet. She’d enjoy it, but not for long.

  Closing her eyes, she waited for impact, and it came sooner than she’d expected. Except she flew sideways into the tree and grasped a branch out of instinct. When her body stopped pummeling the rough bark, she opened her eyes. Colten’s furious face was inches from hers.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Saving you, obviously. You couldn’t wait five freaking minutes, could you? You just had to jump out of the damned tree.”

  “Where’s Kaegan?”

  A pepper of gunfire trailed down the tree, shooting shards of bark at them as the bullets barely missed. Another louder shot rang out, and the gunfire stopped. Probably because the man holding the weapon had dropped like a sack of stones.

  Kaegan sat atop a ridge with a long range rifle, lining up his next shot.

  “He’s a better shot than me, and I’m better at climbing trees so I had to play rescuer. Should we kiss now?”

  “Stop messing around, you asshat,” Adrianna called from below. She and Lauren were sprinting from the direction the fire was raging.

  “Right.” Colten leaned against the trunk he’d tucked into and pulled his machete. In one swift stroke, the zip tie was cut and fell to the forest floor below. Soren reached for a lower branch just as a bullet ricocheted off where she was about to put her hand.

  Another shot rang out, deep and short, signifying Kaegan had hit something. Soren grabbed the branch and flung herself downward, and Colten followed closely, weaving in and out and letting gravity rush them.

  Panic spurred her faster, and when she reached the last branch, she jumped to the ground and rolled to ease the impact. Colten almost landed on top of her, and before she was even on her feet, he was dragging her toward the woods.

  Four armed guards were sprinting after them, and Colten turned long enough to down two with his Berretta. A knife whizzed past her face, and the thunk of a body hitting dirt sounded behind her. Adrianna stood ahead of them with a look of fierce concentration, and another deep boom made her cover her ears in shock. Pushing her legs faster, she climbed the hill behind the others, clawing at dirt and rock and propelling herself upward until her legs burned with exhaustion.

  “Don’t stop,” Kaegan ordered. “Just keep going.” He let off two more shots, then hoisted himself up and ran beside her.

  The next hour was consumed by ducking low branches and watching for uneven terrain to keep the pace. Kaegan favored his ankle but didn’t slow until they were miles away. He grabbed her shoulder and held her still. “Quiet,” he panted.

  Her chest rose and fell so fast she thought she’d pass out if she denied her body oxygen by quieting her breathing, but she stilled her feet and hoped that’s what he meant. Colten had doubled over, and Lauren retched behind a tree. Adrianna pulled her arms over her head like that would help her catch her breath, and every single one of them dripped with perspiration.

  “I don’t hear ’em,” Colten said between gasps.

  “I think we lost them, but we’ll have to be careful,” Kaegan rasped.

  Soren gripped his shirt in her clenched fist. “You came for me.”

  He moved from side to side, like a racehorse asked to stop running too soon. His eyes never left her, but his head shook slowly. “I can’t…” His lips pursed to a thin line at odds with his normally relaxed features, and his dark eyebrows drew down, brightening the intense color of his eyes. He was beautiful and terrifying, all at once.

  “Soren,” Colten said low. “Let him go.”

  Kaegan brushed past her and strode away. With a confused glance over her shoulder, Adrianna followed, then Lauren.

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  With a pitying look, Colten turned and jogged to catch up.

  Had she done something wrong? She hadn’t asked them to come after her, wouldn’t have ever put them in danger like that, so what? The woods suddenly felt stark and lonely, and she dug the toes of her boots into the dirt between ferns and bolted after them.

  Kaegan wouldn’t talk to her, wouldn’t even look at her in the hours that followed. They hiked long into the night, and every passing mile brought silence to spur her agony. Hungry and exhausted, a chill crept into her bones and she couldn’t seem to warm up. And just as she thought her legs would lock and refuse to take another step, Colten jerked his head and pointed his flashlight at an old cabin.

  “Anyone here?” he called. “We’re looking for shelter. Tell us the cabin is occupied, and we’ll move on, no trouble.”

  Nothing stirred, and the frogs screamed on.

  “Thank God,” Adrianna muttered. “I can’t feel my legs.”

  The door was locked, but all of the panes of glass had been broken, so Kaegan reached in. The snick of the lock was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard.

  A quick sweep of the house revealed they were alone, and when the door was locked behind them, Soren nearly collapsed on the dusty couch. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, Adrianna and Kaegan stood over her.

  “You need to eat,” Adrianna said.

  “Eat what? I’m too tired to hunt right now. What I need to do is sleep.”

  “You’ve been asleep for two hours,” Kaegan said quietly. “Colten found a couple of ducks in the pond behind the house.” Indeed, a limp mallard hung from his outstretched hand.

  Eyes on the stitching of the worn blue couch, Kaegan dropped it in her lap and turned for the door. “When you’re done eating, come outside, and I’ll stitch you up.”

  Stitch her up? He shut the back door a little too firmly behind him, and she shot Adrianna a questioning glance.

  Swirling her hand in the vicinity of Soren’s head, Adrianna said, “You need like twenty of them, Sor. Your face looks like a crime scene.”

  Ah, the gash on her head, compliments of Tattoo Face Troy.

  When her stomach was satisfied, and her face washed clean with canteen water, she stalled at the fire Lauren stoked in the stone hearth. Kaegan was angry, and a wise woman didn’t storm a battlefield confused. Nothing in her wanted to endure his wrath right now. She was raw and so tired her bones didn’t want to work, and hurt, if she was completely honest. Kaegan’s aloofness stung, and quite frankly, she didn’t want to do what he said until he started making sense. Determined to tell him just that, she stomped out the door, threw it open, and froze.

  Kaegan l
eaned against the dilapidated porch railing, arms flexed in the moonlight, and the muzzle hung from his left hand, bumping the wooden posts in the breeze.

  The implications cut her worse than any ever knife could.

  Closing the door gently behind her, she stood beside him and watched the full moon’s reflection on the rippling waters of the pond.

  “I saw you,” Kaegan said low, his voice cracking on the last word. “Why did you kiss that man?”

  Baffled, she studied his tense profile. A muscle twitched in his clenched jaw, and she fought the urge to touch it, to soothe it away.

  “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

  He turned so fast she jumped. Gripping both sides of her face in an unbreakable grip, desperation tainted his gaze as he studied her for something she couldn’t fathom. “Tell me he wasn’t your first kiss. Tell me you didn’t give away what was mine to some guy you didn’t know.”

  God, she wanted to cry for their loss. “Kaegan,” she murmured, rubbing her hands down his forearm and resting them on his knuckles.

  He gripped her hair and leaned forward until his forehead rested on hers. “Tell me it wasn’t.”

  “I killed him.” Her whisper was ragged and laced with tears. “I hated him for what he was going to do to me, and he wasn’t vaccinated. I could smell that he wasn’t. I was going to die, but I wanted to take him with me, so I kissed him to murder him.”

  A desperate sound came from deep within his chest, and he pulled her against him. “I can’t do this. I had all these ideas about how easy this would be when I found the right person, and it’s not like what I thought at all. You’ll have to do things that hurt me to survive. It won’t stop. People will try to kill you, and if I can’t get to you, I’ll have to watch you fight for your life, and it guts me, Soren. Watching you come flying out of that window, watching you fall, seeing you get peppered with gunfire and running for your life, and if I missed, just one hair off on my aim, you’d be gone forever. I don’t think I can do this. I can’t go to war with you.” He dropped to his knees, pressed his head against her stomach and gripped her legs. “I’m not strong enough to lose you.”