Love Starts With Z

by Tera Shanley

  “You don’t sleep, Soren. You don’t dream because you don’t sleep enough to. There’s nothing wrong with you. Dreams aren’t being withheld because you don’t deserve them—it’s just your makeup.” Couldn’t she see how amazing she was? She was better than everyone but felt like less. It was a damned tragedy.

  “I slept when we were together. More than I ever have. I almost had a soul.” She stood abruptly as he tried to keep his heart from breaking into a million pathetic pieces. “I have to talk to General Moore. Tell him I’ll lead his troops.”

  “He should be leading them himself,” Kaegan said, pushing off the ground to follow her.

  “I think he has. But there’s no one to help him organize here. Feeding everyone, placing new recruits, protecting and dispersing supplies. I haven’t seen a single guard he seems to trust. He’s overwhelmed, just too stubborn to say it.”

  He plucked a long stem of grass and rolled it between his fingers. “When Colten and I were younger, we’d play war. Mr. McTavish, Colten’s dad, told us when he was a boy, they played cowboys and Indians. But we’d play fighters and Deads. We had wooden knives and sticks shaped like guns, and we spent hours imagining how each fight would go down. This…” he said, sneaking a look at her thoughtful expression. “This isn’t what I expected it to be like.”

  “It shouldn’t be like this at all. It feels thrown together, like everyone decided at the last moment, this migration we’ll fight. Maybe it’s because we came near the beginning, I don’t know. What I do know is that every fighter here will die if they remain separated, without leadership. I don’t want to do it, but I don’t want to fight every battle like we did today. The disease is winning.”

  Crickets and frogs and the first morning birds chirped away outside the gates. If he wasn’t drawn to her face, he would’ve missed the precious smile that flitted across her lips for just a moment. “Adrianna and I used to play fighters and Deads too. I was obviously…”

  “The Dead,” he finished, chuckling. He could just imagine her when she was ten. A beautiful little hellion, he bet.

  “When I was seven, I remember I’d started noticing the little girls in the colony carrying around dolls. Adrianna didn’t. She carried around a pocket knife, but the other girls had dolls their mothers had found or made for them. So when I talked to my mom about wanting one, she made this little doll that looked like a Dead because she thought it would help me to accept myself. And I didn’t want to be rude because, geez, the woman spent three weeks making this ugly little thing.”

  “What did it look like?”

  “Um—” she crinkled her nose “—it was sewn together with obvious black stitches over gray cloth, had scraggly yarn hair, and it had an X for one of the eyes. I named it Pickles. And when we’d go to the playground, she’d always make sure I had the doll so I wouldn’t feel left out when the other girls brought theirs. Except it freaked the other kids out.” She laughed, a tinkling sound that froze the air in his chest just so he could hear it better. “Adrianna gave a kid named Zane a bloody nose one time because he said Pickles was ugly.”

  “Of course she did.” As much as Adrianna could be a pain in the ass, she was probably the only other person on earth who understood his devotion to Soren. She knew her, really knew her, too. “Whatever happened to Pickles?”

  “I saw her in a box in the gun storage at the Denver colony when we were there. My mom is sentimental. She wouldn’t ever get rid of something like that.”

  “I can’t remember if my mom was sentimental or not. Sometimes I think I’ve just made up things about her because I’m afraid of admitting I’ve forgotten.”

  “Do you remember what she looked like?”

  “I try to think about her face, but it’s blurred with time. She had dark hair and a great smile. I dream about her from time to time, but when I wake up, I can’t remember her face. It guts me. See?” he said, shrugging off his vulnerability. “Dreams aren’t always puppies and kittens.”

  “Do you think Max is all right?”

  “Who’s Max?”

  “The dog that was following us before we boarded the train.”

  “I don’t know. Hopefully so. He was the one that led us to your trail the day you were taken.”

  “I like this,” she whispered in a rush. “I was afraid we’d never be able to talk again after—” She halted, tilted her chin up until she searched his eyes. A rim of moisture spilled over, and a single tear slipped down her alabaster cheek.

  He stilled his hand. If he touched the moisture there, she’d pull away again, and he couldn’t take it. “No matter what we are, Soren, I’m still here. I always will be. I’ve never been on a team like this. Whatever you want to call me, you’re family to me.” So much more, even. “The battles are going to be hard, and you’ll have more pressure on your shoulders. You’ll carry a bigger burden than the rest of us, so when you need something, ask. I’ll make sure it gets done.”

  The oath slipped from his lips so easily because he knew, if she ever had cause to ask something of him, it was because she still trusted him. He’d withheld information from her, hurt her with the way she’d found out, and he’d earn back her trust if it was the last thing he did on this earth. Consequences be damned, he’d go to hell and back for her.

  Deep oranges and grays stabbed the horizon by the time Soren went to General Moore outside his tent. He beckoned them in and lit a candle, the light illuminating the deep lines of fatigue on his face.

  Simply, she said, “I’ll lead them.”

  Relief flitted across his features before he stilled and replaced his stoic mask. “What do you need from me?”

  “I want to talk to my troops before we leave the gates this morning. They should have a choice about this.”

  “Done.”

  “She needs the snipers there too,” Kaegan said. “Hold them back with the rest so we can talk to them before they make their way to the towers.”

  A quick nod of his head, and an “anything else?” later, and they jogged back to the tent to make breakfast.

  “What happened to your arm?” he asked, pointing to the long cut down her bicep.

  “Colten nicked me yesterday when I got too close. It was my own fault. I’ve never fought in close quarter combat before.”

  He grunted and washed the cut with fresh water while she scrambled the eggs Moore had offered her. At least they were getting something out of her new job title. It wouldn’t benefit her, but the team could use the protein, and from the way she hummed under her breath as she stirred the yolks across the bottom of a cast iron skillet, that was more important to her.

  He woke the others, and they ate hastily before setting to the task of preparing weapons. Cleaning, rechecking, loading, filling clips, sharpening blades. Day two and the routine already seemed an integral part of the day. Or perhaps they were all a little superstitious. Yesterday they’d survived by the skin of their teeth. Do everything just the same, and maybe they’d make it to dinner tonight.

  Soren was quiet, her gaze faraway. The others didn’t know what had transpired in the night, but it was her place to tell them she was leading this Dead slaying party. Did she know how important she was? He didn’t want to reinforce it and remind her of the pressure. Something stirred within him though, watching this quiet woman serve her team breakfast, knowing what was to come. Something fiercely protective. She’d put on her warrior’s face, the one she wore yesterday, but he knew her heart. She was good to her very core.

  A bugle sounded near the back ramp gate. Soren shot him a look and kicked dirt over the fire. Lauren, Colten, and Adrianna followed behind, talking quietly, and he walked so close to Soren, he could feel the warmth from her arm. There was nothing in the world he wanted to do more right now than hold her hand, just for a moment. Just to squeeze it and let her know everything would be all right somehow.

  She didn’t seem to need the comfort though, her face a mask of detachment. She was already with her troops.

>   Men and woman filed from their tents and doused campfires, joined them in their path toward the row of trucks that would take them to battle. General Moore sat on the step of one of the eighteen wheelers and gave a two fingered wave when he saw Soren.

  Minutes ticked by as the troops gathered, some restless to fight, others battle hardened and weary. Faces blurred as the numbers grew. Moore talked to a group of seven men holding long range weapons and gestured for them to stand beside the ground soldiers.

  Adrianna and Lauren fist bumped over something she’d whispered into the girl’s ear, and Colten looked at the sky with a shit-eating grin. Kaegan didn’t even want to know. They stood with the others, Soren with her arms crossed and legs splayed.

  “Quiet,” Moore yelled.

  The noise of conversation died to a murmur, then to silence.

  “I know this is an unusual start to the day, and believe me, you will be at the Boneyard slaying Deads shortly. But things are going to be different around here. We’ve started losing more fighters, more life to those monsters, and we can’t keep going the way we are without losing this war completely. You are all here because you know what’s at stake. Because you know your sacrifices, the Dead lives you take, will make a difference in the future of the human race. Yesterday was the first day in weeks we brought home good numbers with minimal losses. Many of you saw her fight. Many fought beside her or heard rumors about Z.”

  “What’s going on?” Adrianna hissed.

  “I’ve chosen her to lead you into battle today,” Moore called over the growing noise.

  The troops erupted. Shouts echoed across the manmade island. Some agreed, most did not.

  Moore gestured Soren over, and she walked, chin up, to step onto the truck. Holding the metal railing, she leaned forward.

  Kaegan let out an ear-splitting whistle and moved to stand beside her. She was fierce, frightening almost in the way she watched the troops like a predator perched for the kill. Her hair was braided tightly on one side, the rest of her tresses flowing long and free and wild. Feathers and beads adorned her pale locks, and the tank top she’d changed into was dark and tight, exposing nothing but hard edges. Blades covered her, clanked with her movement. Her Uncle Jarren’s pistol sat her hip, a charm he’d seen her rest her hand on for comfort often.

  “You don’t know me,” she called in a voice steady and strong. “But if you choose to let me lead you, you will. It won’t be easy, and some of the things I’ll ask of you might seem strange, but trust me, I’ll keep us alive as long as I can.”

  “Why should we trust you?” a man called from the back. “You look like a Dead!”

  Without missing a beat, she called, “Which has given me an advantage. They don’t react to me like they want to hurt you. I’m human, with human parents, and the same drive to bring an end to the apocalypse as you. I’m not a Dead. I value human life, just the same as you. You’re free to fight on your own. I won’t force you to fight under me. You can go back to fighting and dying in twos and threes. But that won’t win this war. There’s safety in numbers just like between colonies. If we’re going to make a difference—if we’re going to demolish these numbers, we have to be intelligent about it. Thoughtful and mindful of the fighters next to us because they will keep us alive. Doing it on your own doesn’t work here. Not with this many.”

  A man in the front stepped forward. His eyes flashed as he turned to the crowd. “She’s right. I fought with her yesterday. I was surrounded, and she and her team came for me. What she says is true. The ones of you lucky enough to have survived the pandemonium of the last two weeks know. You’ve lost people, and it’s been a numbers problem. I’ll fight under her again.”

  “What do you need from us?” one of the snipers called.

  “I need your guns on the action around the main attack. Picking off Deads by the water isn’t going to help us. We need aerial support from you guys. Not too close to put us in danger, but we need every weapon we can get for protection. The longer each of us lives, the more of those Dead bastards we take down.”

  A couple of men clapped in the crowd. “Yes,” one called out.

  “You’re here because you know we’re making history.”

  More cheers.

  “You’re here because you’re honorable. Because you want to keep your families, your children safe from the monsters beating on the colony gates. Fight with me,” she said, neck straining with the truth of her words. “And let’s take this world back from those undead mother fuckers together!”

  The noise was deafening as troops raised weapons over their heads. How could they not believe in her? Kaegan couldn’t take his eyes from the honest set to her lips. She didn’t fit into the human world, but here she looked deadly, like she’d been forged to lead them. Jumping from the back of the truck, she opened the steel cages and clapped the passing soldiers on the back. Some stared on with empty looks, but more shook her hand, gripped her shoulders, smiled as if relieved they would no longer be alone in the fray.

  Her eyes locked on his, and she nodded. A small gesture, not meant for anyone else to see, but it brought warm relief where he’d felt cold after they’d imploded. They were in this together, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, it meant something.

  His blood hummed with battle readiness and adrenaline as he climbed into one of the trucks behind her. He gripped her waist and bent until his lips brushed her ear. “You did good.”

  The truck engines roared to life, fueled by God knew what, and jerked beneath them. Her hair lifted in the cool morning breeze, and he wanted to catch the silken threads.

  Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the bar to steady herself. “Tell me that after we make it through today.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “YOU DID GOOD,” Kaegan said, jumping the last rung of the tower ladder.

  Soren had secretly lived for those words every day for the past two weeks. He was showing signs of superstition, a quality she found quite endearing from a man who didn’t seem afraid of anything. Eyes on the marsh grass beneath her feet to hide her blush, she waited for him to shoulder the rifle he’d been sniping with.

  Joey Vedder, that dimwit, shot one of her soldiers right beside her. He’d been missing like crazy the last few days. Nerves or vision, she didn’t know which one was getting to him, but he had to go. She’d asked Kaegan to give him the boot and take over as soon as the miss had happened. Fatality was a part of the game, but not from the hands of their own team.

  Tomorrow, Joey Vedder was going to get a quick lesson on the finer points of being a ground soldier on the front lines.

  “How many did we lose today?” he asked.

  “Seven.” She wished he didn’t ask every day. Every life lost was a strike against her soul, and now, after losing so many, her heart was open, weeping blood she couldn’t staunch.

  “It would’ve been more without you.”

  She climbed the dune and stooped to tie the laces of her boot. Deads groaned behind them, but Moore had ordered a fence be erected to keep the Deads away from the body haulers per her request. They could escape down the beach at any time, but at least this way, they were encouraged to stay put at nights when the fighters were asleep in their tents. The migration would come to an end soon, and the monsters would move on. Before that happened, they had to off as many as possible.

  “We’re making headway, I can tell from the tower,” he said as he leaned against a scraggly tree brave enough to grow this close to the shore.

  The migration was coming to an end. They hadn’t made enough. “Rumor is we’re getting a shipment of shields in tomorrow.” Might be too late, but maybe not.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, that’s what Moore said. And more beef rations came over on the Crow as a reward for the numbers he gave the higher ups.”

  Her fingers wouldn’t work on the shoestrings, she was so exhausted, and Kaegan folded into the sand. “You need to take a day off,” he said, looping th
e strings tight. “You can’t keep going like this.”

  “It’s just from gripping the swords.”

  “That’s not it and you know it. Your muscles are sore, but you don’t feel it. You can’t take care of your body like the others can. Everyone gets a day off a week, but you haven’t taken a single one.”

  “Neither have you, or the team.”

  “Because we’ll keep going as long as you do.” He stood and brushed sand from his knee. “At least think about it.”

  The Deads would only hang around a few more days at most if the other migrations were anything to go by. Taking a day off wasn’t an option so close to the end. Not wanting to miss the last truck, she dragged her numb legs through the deep sand onto the trail. Adrianna lay under a palm tree while Lauren and Colten looked on beside her. They’d aged a hundred years in two weeks. Gaunt and tired looking, every day wore on their hearts. She could see the battles on the Boneyard killing them. They were killing her too.

  At the base, a medical tent had been erected in the unloading zone. As soon as the trucks had all crossed over a large, lowered ramp, the Deads that made it across were killed and the gates opened for the weary fighters. The line for the medical tent stretched on and on. Adrianna had a cut that needed stitches, but Soren would do it when they got to their tent so she wouldn’t have to wait in the sun.

  “Z,” soldiers said respectfully as she edged around them to beg some sutures from the busy nurses. She smiled—or she thought it was a smile, it might have been an exhausted grimace—and nodded her head. Some she clapped on the shoulder and asked about friends or loved ones she didn’t see beside them. Others wanted to talk about the day’s skirmishes, but she was tired and escaped the conversations as soon as was polite.

  Med pack in hand, she shuffled back to her tent. She must really look like a Dead now.

  The supply area was filling up with gifts from colonies all over. Whatever they’d heard about the Boneyard, they were coming together to lend their support. The Crow had become the main mode of warfare supply transportation, and shipments were made almost daily. Weapons, ammunition, clothes, medical supplies, food. Gone were the days they went hungry after a long day of fighting. And Moore always made sure she was fed on fresh meat when she returned. Had to keep his favorite weapon oiled and ready.