“I think we can all agree that you’re the lucky one,” Kellan called from where he stood a few feet away, dutifully watching his line for any sign of a bite.
Blake laughed. “Can’t deny that.”
It was the first time since he and Emma split up that I could see some of the old Blake. His smile reached his eyes, and his laugh was as carefree as it had been in the early years, before the fighting between him and Emma got bad. It was nice, seeing him on the way to being happy again, and it had me thinking about the vision I’d had of an alternate future where Kellan and I had gotten married and had kids.
Some of that could still happen, I realized. Marriage wasn’t necessarily a thing of the past—a piece of paper wasn’t essential to commit yourself to someone—and who said we couldn’t have kids? We could have children and a life, and we could build something real, and our kids wouldn’t be alone. There were Emma and Cade, and now Blake and Christine. Then there was Becky and Thomas, and who knew what other couples would pop up one day.
Kellan reeled in his line and moved closer to where I stood, watching Blake and Christine, my smile practically cutting my face in half.
“What are you grinning about?” Kellan asked after a moment.
I shrugged, and as usual, my cheeks warmed. “Nothing.”
“Something has your brain working.” He looked toward the others, who were laughing as they tried to free a fish from their line so it could join the others we’d caught in the cooler. “Is it them?”
“And us.”
“You’re not going to suggest we become swingers, are you? Because I’m not going to lie, I’m not interested in sleeping with anyone but you.”
I snorted and gave him a playful shove. “No, gross. Blake is like a brother.”
“Okay, good.” Kellan let out a laugh that shook his shoulders. “What, then?”
“I was just thinking about the future and what it might be like.”
He looked from Blake to me like he was trying to decipher my meaning. “You lost me.”
“Don’t you ever think about what comes next? I mean—”
I looked to where my fishing line disappeared in the water, suddenly nervous about bringing this up. We’d never talked about the future for real, not like this, and bringing up kids… Was it too soon? We’d been together for less than two months, but it was Kellan and me. We weren’t the same as Blake and Christine. They’d just met. I’d known Kellan forever.
“Regan,” he said when I didn’t speak again, “tell me what you’re thinking.”
I ventured a look up and found his intense brown eyes focused on me. “Do you want kids?”
He blinked, and his expression was unreadable when he said, “That wasn’t what I expected you to say at all.”
“I mean—” Heat rushed to my face, and I shook my head. “Forget it. It’s stupid.”
I started to turn away, but he grabbed my arm with his free hand. “It’s not stupid, it’s just not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?” I couldn’t look at him, so I once again focused on the water.
“I thought you were going to ask if I wanted to get married.”
My head jerked up. “You thought I was going to propose to you?”
“No.” He chuckled again. “I just thought you were thinking about the two of us getting married.”
I gnawed on my lip, trying to figure out what he was thinking, but he was impossible to get a read on. “It seems kind of silly now, doesn’t it?”
“Not to me.” Kellan only had one free hand since the other one was holding a fishing rod, but he used it to grab one of my belt loops and pull me closer to him. “I plan on marrying you, Regan. I’ve planned on marrying you since I was fourteen years old.”
This time when heat flooded my cheeks, it was because his mouth had closed over mine.
20
It had to be getting close to dinnertime when we packed up the fishing gear and headed back to the car. We were laughing and relaxed, even Kellan, who carried the cooler stuffed with fish—something everyone back in the shelter would be thrilled to see. The brush tickled my legs even through my pants as we walked, reminding me of our last hike—the day we’d rescued Harper from Andrew’s men—and how adamant Kellan had been afterward about scouring my body for ticks.
“We’ll have to do another tick check when we get home,” I said, shooting him a wink.
“Oh, I know.” His dimples deepened, and his brown eyes flashed with the mischievous look I knew so well. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”
“What have I told you two about keeping it PG-13?” Blake grumbled.
“Hey,” Kellan said, trying to sound innocent and failing miserably, “I’m just looking out for her health. Ticks are serious.”
At Blake’s side, Christine laughed and elbowed him lightly. “He has a point. I might need some help later, if you’re available.”
Blake cleared his throat as he pulled his hat lower. “I’ll have to see if I can clear up my schedule.”
I snorted. “I’m sure you’re just swamped.”
The brim of his hat cast a shadow across his face, but it couldn’t hide his smile.
We reached the car and loaded up, putting the fishing gear in the trunk but the cooler in the back. Christine and Blake were going to have to get up close and personal on the ride home, but something told me they weren’t going to care. They hadn’t been overly touchy-feely during the day, but the sidelong glances said it all. There would be lots of touching later.
Kellan had just slammed the trunk when footsteps scraped against the ground, and on instinct, I pulled my gun as I turned toward the sound. Beside me, Kellan did the same, and even though they were behind me and I couldn’t see them, I had no doubt that Christine and Blake were as ready as we were.
There was a figure in the distance, a good twenty feet off. Not a zombie, but a man. He was walking toward us—alone, as far as I could tell—heading down the road from who knew where, but I couldn’t imagine where he was coming from or where he’d been since there wasn’t much out this way. Plus, he wasn’t exactly put together.
His gray hair was long and scraggily, knotted in places and matted like it hadn’t been washed in months. His beard, too, was long, reaching the middle of his chest, and streaked in brown—it was hard to tell if it was dirt or dried blood, but whatever it was, it was thick and had been there for a while. Under the layer of dust, his skin was burnt, blistered in places and peeling away, especially on his scalp, which was visible through the thin fibers still clinging to his head. He looked like he’d been traveling under the hot sun for months—or longer.
Kellan stepped in front of me, his gun out and ready, and unlike the other times he’d shielded me from zombies, I didn’t try to talk him out of it.
“You okay?” he called out hesitantly.
Behind me, Blake whispered to Christine, “Stay back.”
“Hello?” Kellan called when there was no response.
The man kept moving, barely lifting his feet when he walked, the bottoms of his worn boots scraping against the pavement and making a scratching sound that seemed louder than a gunshot amidst the silence surrounding us.
“What the hell?” Blake muttered.
“I don’t know.” Kellan took a step toward the man. “Sir, are you okay?”
“Okay,” the man repeated in a raspy voice. “Okay.”
He was still a good five feet away from us when he stopped and crouched, reminding me of an animal on alert. His knees were wide apart, and his right hand rested on the ground between them, keeping him balanced, while his other hand went to his beard. He pulled at it until wisps of wiry hair broke free and dropped to the ground, all the while staring at us with bloodshot eyes that could only be described as feral. They crackled, and his pupils dilated until the gray irises were barely visible.
“Do you understand me?” Kellan took a hesitant step.
His gun was out, as was mine, but neither
of us had them up. Blake, too, was armed, but not in a defensive stance, and behind him, Christine looked more confused than scared. I understood, because despite the wild look in the man’s eyes, he didn’t seem like a threat. He was too small, too malnourished, too bony to be a danger to anyone except possibly himself.
“He’s out of his mind,” Blake murmured behind me.
At his words, the man tilted his head the way animals did when they were studying you, and the hair on my scalp prickled.
There was something very wrong with this man.
“Kellan,” I said, reaching for him, “maybe you should stay back.”
He ignored me and took another step. “Are you hurt? Is there something we can do to help you?”
The man bared his teeth seconds before making a move, and when he jumped, Kellan was only three feet away. It caught him off guard, and his gun was still down when the man’s body slammed into his. They went down, the man on top of Kellan when they hit the ground, almost like he really was a wild animal. I let out a scream, and behind me Blake swore, and Christine gasped. I had my gun up, but Kellan and the man were struggling, moving around too much, and the bright rays from the sun were blinding, making getting a good shot impossible. I could hit Kellan.
“Shit,” Kellan muttered.
In no time, he managed to gain the upper hand and flipped the man over so he was now on the ground and Kellan was on top. Relief washed over me, but this thing—whatever it was—wasn’t over yet. The crazy man was on his back, being held down, but he was still thrashing. He was also growling like a zombie or an animal, or even a crazy person. That was what he was, I realized. He was mad. Out of his mind. Insane from the sun or starvation, or something else.
“Stop fighting,” Kellan grunted as he tried to subdue the man. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m just trying to help.”
The man growled again, and his head snapped up, and I watched in helpless horror as his teeth sank into Kellan’s forearm.
He let out a howl of pain and ripped his arm from the man’s jaws. His face and beard were covered in dark red blood, mixing with the brown already streaked through the wiry hair. Kellan had stumbled back, away from the man, and held his arm against his chest, his brown eyes wide with shock as blood dripped onto the sandy ground.
It all happened so fast—in the blink of an eye—but at the same time seemed to be happening in slow motion, so by the time I moved, I wasn’t sure if a second or an hour had passed.
“Kellan!” I rushed forward, my free hand reaching for him while the other held my gun. “Are you okay? Blake, help!”
Behind me Blake said, “Son of a bitch.”
Before either of us could reach him, the man was on the move, pushing himself up and lunging once again. He didn’t make it far before Kellan’s fist made contact with the crazy guy’s nose, sending him flying back. The crunch of breaking bone was loud, but the guy seemed impervious to pain. He was up again in a second, growling as he moved for Kellan, snapping his teeth like he was trying to get another bite out of him.
Kellan stumbled farther back, giving me a clear shot, but I hesitated, unsure if killing him was necessary. He was crazy, he’d taken a bite out of Kellan, but did that mean putting a bullet in his head was justified? How dangerous was he, really?
I was still trying to decide what to do when the man turned on me. He was crawling, scrambling to get to his feet, growling like a wild dog, but he only made it a foot before a gunshot rang through the air. My entire body jerked like I was the one who’d been shot, and in front of me, the man dropped to the ground.
“Holy shit,” Blake said.
Behind the now lifeless man, Kellan stood with his gun still raised and his eyes focused on the motionless body. His shoulders heaved as blood ran down his arm and dripped onto the ground. It was the sight of the blood that finally snapped me out of it.
“Kellan!” I rushed to his side and urged the gun from his hand. “Let me see it.”
He swore under his breath when I touched the bite. “Bastard. I didn’t think he was a threat.”
“Neither did I,” I said as I studied the wound.
“Man, he got you good,” Blake said, coming up beside me.
The bite was on Kellan’s forearm and it was deep, as deep as my own bite had been. Thankfully, the man had just been crazy and not—
A chill shot down my spine, and I looked up, my gaze moving from Kellan to Blake. “You don’t think he was infected, do you?”
“What?” Blake asked.
Kellan shook his head. “No. He was just nuts.”
“But, I mean—” I stammered over my words because my heart was pounding harder than it had even when the man lunged. “There are so many strains now. Maybe he was infected. Maybe he just hadn’t died yet. It’s possible, right?”
“Look at him, Regan.” Kellan nodded to the body. “He wasn’t.”
“He talked to us,” Blake piped in. “He didn’t have any of the other symptoms. He was just out of his mind.”
I tried to cling to their words, but the bite on Kellan’s arm was too fresh and the fear clawing at me too huge.
I looked back to where Christine stood, staring at us with wide, unblinking eyes.
“He wasn’t infected,” she said, as if knowing I was looking for reassurance. “He was just nuts.”
It didn’t help.
Kellan, on the other hand, didn’t act the least bit concerned. If anything, he just looked pissed off as he ripped his shirt over his head. “Help me tie this around the bite.”
I obeyed, taking the shirt and wrapping it around his arm while Blake went to check on Christine. She probably needed it even if she wasn’t the one who’d been attacked. She acted like she was in shock.
“We can’t do stupid stuff like this again,” I told Kellan. “Got it? Just because we decided we need to open ourselves to the world more, doesn’t mean we take stupid risks.”
“You’re preaching to the choir.” Kellan winced when I wrapped the shirt around his arm, tying it as best as I could. “Shit, that hurts.”
I gave him a crooked smile. “You’re preaching to the choir.”
Kellan ran his thumb over the bite on my arm. “It’s healed pretty nicely.”
“Thankfully.” My gaze moved to the man, and when the fear hit me again, I threw my arms around Kellan. “Don’t scare me like that again.”
“I won’t,” he said against the side of my head. “I promise.”
When the shelter came into view, Kellan slowed the sedan and let out a low whistle. For the first time in weeks, a decent size horde had gathered outside the fence. There weren’t as many as there were right after the new people moved into the shelter, but it was still more than we’d been seeing lately.
“What the hell?” I said.
“I thought we were over this,” Kellan muttered.
“We’re not going to be able to get that gate open without resistance,” Blake said from the back.
He was right. There were at least fourteen zombies and just four of us—and Kellan wasn’t exactly at his best right now. The second one of us got out of the car, the zombies would be on us. Already, a handful were staggering our way, the goats and other animals forgotten.
Realizing he was drawing them toward us, Kellan killed the engine.
“What do we do?” I asked, keeping my voice low since the windows were open.
In the driver’s seat, Kellan was rolling his window up, leaving only a crack. With as hot as it was and no air conditioner, we couldn’t shut it completely, not that the dead couldn’t get to us through my window. It had broken in the open position years ago, and now more than ever I found myself wishing I could roll it up.
“We’re going to have to fight,” Kellan said, answering my question.
He was nuts.
I turned to face him, feeling like my eyes were about to pop out of my head. “The four of us against all those zombies?”
“Nope.” Kellan nodded to the shelt
er and I turned to find the door open and our friends spilling out.
Cade and Bill led the way, but Ernie and Diane were right behind them, followed by Emma and Scott, as well as a few others. They were all armed and ready, all heading for the gate.
Kellan put his hand through the small crack he’d left when he rolled up his window and gave our friends a thumbs up.
“Get ready,” he said, pulling his knife.
I let out a deep breath as I slid my own weapon from its resting place on my hip.
The fence rattled when our friends slammed their hands and knives against it, drawing the attention of the dead who’d started heading our way. My open window made me utterly exposed, and seeing the zombies head back was a relief.
We watched from the car, holding our breath and not moving while the people inside the fence got to work on the horde, stabbing them through the chain link. This was the first time I’d seen our normal routine from the outside, and it struck me how slow the process was as I watched Emma beat her palm against the fence and call out to the dead, trying to grab their attention.
Whether it was the four of us in the car or the bodies littering the ground, or even the fact that these zombies were infected with a newer strain, giving them the ability to process thought better, most of the dead weren’t taking the bait. They were keeping their distance, standing at least six feet from the fence, growling and pacing, but refusing to get too close.
“It’s not working this time,” Kellan muttered.
I said nothing but watched as the group inside the fence gave up and moved to the gate.
“You ready?” Blake asked, and I didn’t respond because I instinctively knew he was talking to Christine.
“I’m good,” she responded.
I turned to face Kellan. “How’s that arm?”
“Hurts like hell, but it isn’t anything that’s going to stop me from kicking some zombie ass.”
Blake slapped him on the shoulder. “Good man.”
“Just be careful,” I said. “If you think you can’t handle it, ask for help. Got it?”
“I promise,” he said, his tone solemn.
The Oklahoma Wastelands Series Box Set | Books 1-3 Page 47