Raven's Hell (4 page)

The
vending machines proved pretty much useless as the glass was busted out and
everything taken from the inside of it. But she moved toward the back, saw that
a few bags of chips and even one chocolate bar were behind it, and sent a
silent thanks to whoever was helping her right now find this stuff.

After
she got what she needed she headed out of the clothing store and went into a
few other ones, collecting what she could carry, and finally stopping at the
lone grocery store in this town. It was much bigger than the other buildings
she had gone into, and compared to the chain businesses in Denver it looked
more like a convenience store at a gas station. Grass and weeds were starting
to make their way through the numerous cracks in the pavement right in front of
the doors. There were a few busted and partially dismembered cars in the
distance, but she didn’t see any movement. The sun was especially bright today,
but it was still cold as hell. She lifted her arm and blocked the light as she
stared at one of the cars. The glare off the windshield proved to block out
anything that was inside. But if an infected were laying low in a hibernated
state in there, it would have seen her and come staggering out.

The
frigid wind picked up, and the scent of winter in the air slammed into Rebecca.
She pulled the coat around her tighter, adjusted her bag and tote on her
shoulders, and headed forward. The front window was broken in one spot, and the
dirty and foggy looking glass spoke of age and death. Rebecca gritted her teeth
at the cold weather that was coming on way too fast, and moved inside after she
once again make sure it was safe. After she was done here she’d head back to
the warehouse and bunker down for a very cold night.

****

Collin
sat back and stared at the woman moving to each store in town. He was currently
sitting in one of the beaten down cars that was close to the grocery store she
just entered. He could see her moving around in there, and although he was
tempted to go to her, Collin didn’t want to scare her. He had seen how shifty
she had been just scanning the area, and although that was smart, if he made
himself known she’d probably kill him on principle alone because of his gender.

Collin
stared through the broken window of the store and saw her picking up some cans,
and then shoving them in her bag. Staying put was pretty fucking hard. Never in
his life had he had to wait for anything he wanted, but for this woman, one
that was surprisingly alone and alive, he made sure to take his time. She had
long dark hair, and it looked like it might reach down to her ass, but she had
it in a ratty looking ponytail. He couldn’t see the color of her eyes, or her
shape due to the layers upon layers of clothes she had on, but he had noticed
the wicked looking blade she held. It was like something out of the show
Oz
, except this one was at least ten
inches in length, and looked like it would fuck an asshole up.

Like
an asshole with only one thing on his mind, he grew hard at the images that
played through his mind. They were ones that didn’t have the bulky clothes
covering her body from him, or the dirt and grime that covered them both. They
were pictures in his head of them hot and sweaty, alone in this world, but
fucking so hard and fast that it was like their last day on earth.

“Damn,”
he gritted out, adjusted his dick, and knew that he wasn’t going to let her go,
not when the obsessive side of him had risen up at the first sight of her.

She
would be his.

Chapter Four

Rebecca
walked fully inside and stared at the shelves. Most of the things were
scattered along the floor. The lighting hung by a cord from the center of the
ceiling, and the florescent bulbs were in shattered remains on the ground. Some
of the shelves were turned over, empty boxes of food littered the ground, but
there were some bent cans with missing labels amidst the rubble. Moving over to
the cans she picked them up, tried to tell what might be inside due to the
labels
gone,
and said fuck it. If it was edible it
didn’t matter what it was. She moved over to a rack that had once held packages
of those little snack-sized bags of chips, and grabbed a few that were on the
ground. They were nothing but crushed up crumbs now, but she was fine with
that, too. A bottle of water was what she spotted next, along with some hard
candy, cough drops, and even a few partially open Slim Jim sticks. She shoved
all she could find in her pack, because these days, there wasn’t anything
edible that she didn’t like. She didn’t have a choice, not if she wanted to
survive. She snagged up one melted and partially opened chocolate bar and even
a travel-sized bottle of cheap vodka and placed them in her bag. Beggars
couldn’t be choosers.

She
saw a comb and mirror across the floor by a cardboard cutout of one of the
popular teen heartthrobs before all of this happened. But the cutout was now
leaning to the side, faded from the light that had gotten to it, covered in
dirt and grime from the weather, and the smile on his face looked sad now.
Picking up the mirror and comb, she stared at her reflection, at the dirt that
covered her face, the bags under her green eyes, and the way she had changed so
much. How many young girls had come to this very spot before the contamination,
taken a look at the pop star staring back at them with his perfect smile, and
looked at themselves in the little colorful mirrors like Rebecca was doing
right now?

Sighing
heavily from exhaustion and wear, she took a few of the combs and mirrors and
put them in the tote. And then as she turned over everything in the store,
searched high and low, she found one small toothbrush sitting on a rusted out
shelf. A single roll of toilet paper was also a few feet away, rolled under a
pile of smashed boxes, and the top layer covered in God knew what. She was
going back to her loft with more things than she thought she’d find, and it all
sounded like nirvana at the moment. She could open one of these cans, heat up
the contents with the few matches she had found, and enjoy a warm meal. She
hadn’t known how good she had it until the little things in life were now a
rarity.

A
sound behind her had Rebecca spinning around and staring at a young woman. Well,
she wasn’t a woman any longer, but a corpse with long stringy blonde hair,
lifeless, pale, almost white eyes, and dark coagulated blood seeping from every
visible opening in her body. She wore a pair of pants, ones that were tatters
on her thin, skeletal body, and a tank top that showed the flesh hanging from
her bones. She had been dead for a while given the state of her decomposition.
The fact she was slowly shuffling toward Rebecca with her arms outstretched and
her mouth opened wide, told her that she was also starving. She was weak, and
although she’d have enough strength to still go after fresh meat, this corpse
was more of an easy target. Ones that had eaten more recently were still slow
as hell, but they also had a little bit of strength in them if they caught a
person.

She
held her knife tightly in her hand, set her bags down so they didn’t have her
faltering in bringing this thing down, and waited for it to come closer. It
tried to walk through one of the clear shelving at first, and when that didn’t
work and it finally fell to the side it tripped forward. Righting itself and
reaching out to Rebecca again, it made this nasty sound, and finally lunged at
her. Rebecca fell backward, tripping over one of the end caps, and landing on
her ass. The woman corpse was on Rebecca seconds later. Rebecca struggled to
get her arm free as the coat sleeve was hooked on a piece of metal shelving.
Black goo slipped from the zombie’s mouth and landed on Rebecca’s coat, and
then she finally heard the rip of her jacket tearing free of its prison of
metal. She brought the knife up, and plunged it right in the woman’s eye. The
body immediately slumped forward, and she scrambled away, trying to get away
from the stench of death that the corpse emitted. Rebecca’s stomach churned
painfully, and she turned away and threw up. She might be able to kill these
bastards, that she was usually hardened, but that didn’t mean there weren’t
times, especially when she went head-to-head with these things, that it didn’t
affect her.

****

One
of the infected moved slowly past the vehicle he sat in, but Collin didn’t
move, and the zombie didn’t notice him. He stared at the grocery store again,
his bag beside him and filled with a bunch of shit he had grabbed from the
various little shops in this town, and then he noticed a corpse move into the
store … right where his woman was. Yes, she was
his
; she just didn’t know it yet.

He
stiffened as he watched the contaminated creature go further into the building,
but couldn’t see the woman any longer. She was too far into the store for him
to see her clearly through the broken glass. Grabbing his bag and knife from
the passenger seat, he climbed out of the car and slung his backpack over his
shoulder. He silently, stealthily, moved across the street, through the parking
lot, and stopped when he reached the front of the building. He moved closer to
the front doors, making sure the corpse was alone, and when he stepped inside
it was to see the woman had already taken out the infected. The body was a gruesome
mess of black blood and flesh on the ground, and his woman was in the corner
staring at it all.

Collin
had to admit that he was stunned and appreciative that this woman had taken out
one of the infected. The sick, demented, and twisted part of him even got
aroused over the fact she could handle herself. He sheathed his knife and moved
closer. The glass under his boots crunched, and she looked at him, her hand
shaking as she held the knife high in the air.

“I
am not afraid to kill you, so back the fuck off.” Her voice shook, and she now
held the knife’s handle with both hands. “I mean it. Don’t come any closer.
Just turn around and leave.”

Collin
lifted his hands, showing her that he wouldn’t harm her. “I’m not going to hurt
you,” he said softly. “If I wanted to harm you I could have done it ten times
over by now.” He hoped she could see that if he really wanted to attack her he
could have done it before she even realized he was there. “I’m not a savage
toward women.”

She
didn’t move, didn’t respond, and still held the knife toward him. But she
wasn’t screaming for him to leave, wasn’t getting crazy with that fucking
shank, and so at least that was a more positive note.

“Listen,
I saw you in trouble, or thought you were at least, and so I came to help.” He
said in a neutral tone. The truth was Collin didn’t speak in a soft, coaxing
manner, and sure as hell didn’t try to woo a woman into liking him. He was a
bastard on all accounts, bad to his soul, and took whatever he wanted. He had
done that with Sparrow all those months back, had planned on having her for
himself
because he needed a woman in his life. This life was
hard enough without having to be alone and not have a female to warm his bed
and pleasure him. He could be gentle with her when the time came for it, offer
her comfort and protection, and in return she’d be his. No one else would touch
her, look at her, or even fucking think about taking her from him. She would be
tied to him until the day he died, and this little female would come to realize
that even if he had to throw her over his shoulder and go all
caveman
on her ass.

He
held his hands out in surrender so she knew he didn’t mean her any harm. “The
last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

She
opened her mouth, but before any words came out her eyes widened and Collin
heard the crunching of glass behind him. He ducked just as he felt the whoosh
of air move over his head. He instantly took note that there were two men
standing in the entryway of the store, and one right beside him with a long knife.
He grabbed the blade from where it was tucked at the small of his back, and
working on instinct alone he sliced out, cutting right through the asshole’s
faded, holey jeans, and cutting right into his leg. The man howled out, fell to
a knee, and then the other two came forward. Collin wasn’t about to have this
shit, wasn’t about to lose this woman when he had just found her. He would kill
every last bastard to ensure that.

He
stabbed the asshole that was on the ground, brought the knife right across his
neck and opened his jugular. Blood sprayed out in a great arch of red, and the
gurgling sound of him choking on his own blood brought Collin back to the
underground in New York. He stood, charged forward toward the man that was
standing closest to him, and tried to slice the asshole, too. But then he heard
a scream from his woman. When he grabbed the man around the neck and spun him
around he saw the woman n the corner, her knife held high and her hands
shaking. The fucker that was advancing on her had this sick, sadistic smile on
his face.

“Kill
him if he touches you,” Collin shouted, and the woman looked at him with wide,
frightened eyes. She was afraid, but not because of
this
particular situation. She was afraid because obviously she had
been
in
a situation like this before:
men coming after her and looking to hurt her in unspeakable ways.

Rage
burned brightly inside of him, and he saw red. He was a very bad man, but what
he had never done, what he would
never
do, was hurt a woman. These pricks wanted Collin dead to do just that, to take
something from her that wasn’t willingly given. Even if Collin hadn’t claimed
this woman—even if she didn’t know it yet—he wasn’t about to let anyone hurt
her. He sliced the throat of the other man, and then it was just him and the
motherfucker that was facing his woman. He turned and faced Collin, saw his two
friends dead and bleeding out on the ground, and bared his rotting and yellowed
teeth at him.