New Title 1 (9 page)

“
That’s great, Lainie. Guess the antibiotics you gave him kicked in.” I smiled at her, glad for this bit of good news to balance the rest of the terrible day.

“
I should’ve been with you,” Daylon continued to rant.

“
Because
you
could’ve prevented this from happening?” Carl’s tone was dry. “You’re not God, Daylon, much as you’d like to be.” He stalked past the other man into the house.

I’d had enough talking, enough blame and guilt and accusation. If I didn’t get some peace and quiet soon, I was going to explode. Without another word, I walked toward Brian’s house where a hot shower waited to wash away my tension.

Although I’d only stayed there one night, already the place felt like home. I stripped off my bloody clothes and dumped them in trash can in the kitchen before going upstairs. I turned on the shower, took off my underwear and stepped beneath the steaming spray.

Closing my eyes, I turned my face up and let the water beat against my cheeks and eyelids. My muscles turned to melting candle wax and the knot of fear in my gut eased but my sorrow only increased. I’d lost traveling companions today, some of whom I hadn’t gotten to know well yet like the Marys, others I’d felt pretty close to. Still, I hadn’t allowed myself to care for any of them too deeply. After what had happened to Denny, I’d started keeping an emotional distance from the people I met. Life was too precarious these days to count on anyone being around for long.

Denny.
The playback of today’s horror show gave way to memories of my last boyfriend. We’d been dating a little before the zombies attacked. Nothing too serious. We met when I waited his table and he over-tipped me. We had some good times. He was the kind of arrogant male who attracted me like a mosquito to a bug light and usually zapped me in exactly the same way. Our relationship would’ve ended badly for me at some point. Instead, it ended bloodily for Denny.

When the zombies swept through Las Vegas, we were at a bar having a drink. I don’t think Denny would’ve come to find on me if we weren’t already there together. But as it was, we battled through the shit storm together, met Daylon and then headed into the desert.

It was natural that two men as testosterone-fueled as Denny and strong-willed as Daylon would butt heads. They argued over what direction to take. Daylon was concerned about running out of fuel in the middle of nowhere and wanted to follow a route where there’d be an occasional gas pump. I don’t think Denny really disagreed with him. He just didn’t want to be told what to do. As their hostility escalated, it looked like we were going to split and travel on our own. I didn’t want that. I wanted to stay with the group, but my opinion didn’t carry much weight with Denny and ultimately I would’ve gone where he led.

That’s when the attack happened. We were at a deserted gas station in the desert. A blood smear was all that was left of the attendant. In land so flat we should’ve been able to see danger coming, but it was dark and, just like in the field today, a couple of zombies came out of nowhere. They grabbed Denny and tore into him before he could even pull his weapon.

It was obviously too late to help Denny, who was spouting from a main artery, and more zombies were coming so Daylon shot Denny dead to save him pain. I fought waves of nausea as I climbed on the back of Daylon’s cycle and rode away leaving my dead boyfriend behind.

The next town we reached that had a motorcycle shop, Daylon helped me choose a bike that matched my size and taught me how to ride it. Since then I’d never allowed myself to dwell on Denny or what happened that night. But now, as I washed my body and rivulets of pink swirled down the drain, it wasn’t memories of today’s attack that bothered me. Instead I kept picturing Denny ripped apart. His screams as they dismembered him still haunted me. Even after I turned off the hot water and reached for a towel, I was shivering with cold that seemed to come from my very bones.

I dressed in a tank top and sweats then looked at the bed with the fancy quilt tumbled halfway to the floor, the sheets crumpled from last night’s sleep. Brian’s mom would’ve had a fit to see her guest room so messed up. I imagined the kind of wholesome, bread-baking, cake-decorating, PTA-attending mom she must’ve been and felt a pang of loss for a woman I’d never met. Part of me wanted to tumble into bed and sleep for hours. But it was early so I went downstairs instead.

Brian had already cleaned up in the other bathroom and sat on the living room couch, drinking amber liquid from a glass. His hair was still shower-damp. When I dropped down onto the couch beside him, I smelled shampoo and whiskey. He leaned forward and poured me a glass from the bottle on the coffee table. I drank it in a gulp. The ice chips inside me began to thaw as the alcohol hit.

“
Hungry?” he asked.

“
No.”

After that we had nothing else to say. A day like we’d been through, there weren’t words to describe and reliving the details of what had happened was too painful. It was too much effort to talk so we sat and drank and watched the patch of sunlight on the floor shift slightly as the sun progressed across the sky.

Some time later Brian got up and put music on a small ‘90’s style CD player. He sat down again and we listened. The guitarist was decent, the drummer better, but the lead vocalist was what really sold the songs. He growled and moaned and whispered and played the listeners as if they were his instrument. I closed my eyes and dozed a little.

I jerked awake when Brian lightly touched my arm. The homey smell of soup made my stomach grumble. I took the bowl and spoon he offered. The sunlight on the floor had disappeared, the houses across the street blocking its rays.

“
Want anything else?” Brian asked when I’d emptied my bowl.

“
No. I’m good. Thanks.” I looked at his drained face, the lines curving on either side of his mouth, the furrow between his brows. No guy in his twenties should look so old. “What about you? Is there something I can do for you?” For once I didn’t mean anything sexual by those words, but even so they hung in the air between us creating a subtext all their own.

“
I mean, can I give you a backrub or something,” I explained. “It was a hard day. I’m sure your muscles are in knots. I was going to be a massage therapist once. Even went to classes for awhile.”

He smiled and he didn’t look sixty anymore. “Thanks for the offer. But I’m sure you’re tired too. Maybe another time.” He rose. “I think I just want to crash now.”

“
Yeah. Me too.” I stood and my legs nearly buckled they were so wobbly. I was a little light-headed from drinking straight whiskey on an almost empty stomach and worn out from field labor and zombie dodging.

Brian caught my arm and supported me until I got my balance. And then that moment happened, the one full of possibility and hormones and anticipation. I tilted my face, ready for a kiss, but Brian let go of me and turned away. I was disappointed as I followed him upstairs. When a guy looks at a girl as if he’d like to devour her then rejects her, it’s confusing.

In the hallway, we paused before the two bedroom doors. We were the only ones in the house tonight and I could feel emptiness pushing in on me from all around.

“
I’m sorry about your friends,” Brian said. “You lost a lot of them today.”

“
You too. I’m sorry about that family.” Only one of the Wilkins son’s wives had survived the attack and she was a catatonic wreck.

“
I didn’t really know the Wilkins family, but thanks.”

We paused again, silence spinning around us like a spider’s web and binding us tight. The longer I stood in front of my bedroom door, the more certain I was that I couldn’t stand to go in there.

“
Look, Brian. I don’t want to be alone tonight. I can’t be alone,” I finally laid it out bluntly. “Do you mind if I sleep with you?”

After a heartbeat’s hesitation, he nodded. “Sure.”

He opened the door to his room and I followed him inside. A masculine funk of dirty clothes pervaded the room, but it was comforting—human.

Brian cracked the window to let in fresh air before going over to the bed and pulling back the covers. It was a wide enough bed for two, although the bed in his parents’ room would’ve been better. But I could understand him not wanting to sleep there. I made a last bathroom visit and by the time I returned, Brian was in bed, lying far over on one side.

I’ve gone to bed with a lot of guys in my life and never felt the sudden shyness I felt at that moment. I climbed in on the other side of the bed and gingerly lay down with my back to him. If this were a normal situation, we’d grab at each other, kissing until our lips were bruised then fucking until we passed out. That kind of physical connection I understood. This was unfamiliar territory. There was a restraint, a politeness, a gentleness about Brian that was beyond my scope. He didn’t seize and grasp and demand. Instead, he moved in behind me and slid a hand over my hip until his arm was around me.

His warmth at my back was reassuring and alive, another person breathing the same air I was breathing, his heart beating along with mine. As I realized nothing sexual was going to happen, I began to relax, lust receding from my body which had been flush with desire. I’d thought I needed a quick and furious release, but what I really wanted was rest and calm. I closed my eyes and let stillness fill me.

* * * * *

Chapter Seven

I really wanted to have sex with Ashleigh. Every cell in my body was clamoring for one thing—to get inside the girl. My cock was hard and heavy between our spooning bodies—Jesus, she must be able to feel it—and the hardest part was knowing I could have her if I wanted. She was hungry for it too. There was nothing wrong with two near strangers coming together after surviving a disaster, except I had a strong feeling it was the wrong thing to do right now. Ashleigh seemed too lost, fragile and needy, grasping at anything to feel better, and I didn’t want to be merely the handiest guy available.

Too proud
, my cock declared.
Stop thinking so much and fuck her for my sake.
I exhaled and stared at the back of Ashleigh’s head. Soft brown hair tickled my nose.
Not yet. Maybe another night but not this one.

But there might not be another night.
Death surrounded us. Literally. Before we’d left the jail today, I’d overheard Jim Lewis, our best sharpshooter, report to Barry Jenson that zombies were appearing all along the fence line. It seemed they were flocking from the surrounding countryside and wherever they’d been before that to try to reach the living meat inside the wall. I hadn’t mentioned this report to the others. Tomorrow would be soon enough for more bad news. Tonight we’d all earned a rest.

I closed my eyes, certain I wouldn’t be able to relax my jittery nerves or fall asleep with a girl in my arms. But when I opened them again it was morning. I’d slept hard and deep and apparently hadn’t moved all night because one of my arms was still slung over Ashleigh and the other, trapped between our bodies, was numb.

I lay a few moments longer savoring the sensation of a soft breast clutched in my hand and the slow rise and fall of Ashleigh’s chest as she breathed. I felt her beating heart and the incredible warmth of her body snuggled against mine. At last I let go and rolled over. Pins and needles shot up my arm as the blood returned to it.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang. I got out of bed and pulled on a pair of only slightly dirty jeans and a T-shirt then padded barefoot down to the front hall.

Fes waited on my doorstep. He pushed past me into the house and headed for the kitchen. “You got any coffee ready?”

“
I just woke up,” I answered, trailing after him.

He shot me a look, eyebrows raised. “Really? You never sleep in.”

“
What time is it?” I read the battery-powered digital clock on the counter. Ten thirty.

Fes started to prepare the coffeemaker, the one electronic luxury I’d kept. He measured grounds into the filter. “Were you up late? Why were you up late? Ashleigh! You boned her, didn’t you? I knew it.”

I took mugs from the cupboard. “No, I didn’t bone her.”

“
Why not? She’s hot. And she’s hot for you. I can tell. You guys were all alone here. Why didn’t you?”

“
In case you don’t remember, yesterday was kind of traumatic.” How could Fes act so cheerful this morning when he’d been a wreck yesterday afternoon?

“
Yeah. So what? All the more reason to fuck somebody’s brains out to relieve the stress. That’s what I did.”