Far Series (Book 1): Far From Home

by Mary, Kate L.

  I registered movement seconds before something slammed into Kyle’s head and he went flying. The phone was on the floor, the beam of light pointing up toward Kiaya, who stood over me with a ceramic lamp in her hand and her shoulders heaving.

  I sucked in a breath, trying to collect my thoughts and figure out what to do next. There wasn’t enough time, though. Kyle was up in seconds, on his hands and knees and pulling himself toward me, growling.

  “Hit him again!” I screamed.

  Kiaya obeyed, swinging the lamp around and down and slamming it into his head while I pulled myself to my feet. I was trembling from head to toe but unsure if I was actually hurt. I couldn’t register anything other than the lamp as it made contact with Kyle’s skull a third time. It shattered, sending shards of turquoise ceramic raining down and destroying the only weapon we had.

  I spun in a circle, trying to find something else we could use to defend ourselves, but there was nothing. Kiaya had grabbed the only lamp, and the chairs in the room were on the other side of Kyle. The television was bolted to the wall, and everything else was too big or too useless.

  Kyle lunged again just as something banged against the door. I shoved Kiaya back on instinct, falling to the ground a second time when the zombie that had been Kyle slammed into me. A sharp pain in my lower back made me scream, but I couldn’t focus on it because I was too busy trying to hold Kyle off.

  “Kiaya!” I screamed just as the door opened in a burst of splintering wood.

  Someone rushed in, grabbing Kyle and pulling him off me and throwing him to the floor, and it only took a second to recognize Devon. He still had hold of Kyle and was slamming him down, his skull banging against the floor over and over again. A sickening crack sounded the third time he did it, but he didn’t let up, not until Kyle had stopped moving and a puddle of gray matter and blood that looked black in the limited light had collected under his head.

  Devon stepped back, gasping for breath as he stared down at the thing he’d just killed, then he turned to us. “Are you okay?”

  “I—” I swallowed. “I think so.”

  I started to stand, but gasped when a sharp pain stabbed me in the back. I reached behind me, brushing my fingers against my lower back, and winced. They were stained red when I pulled my hand away.

  “Let me see,” Kiaya said, urging me to turn.

  She lifted my shirt as Devon knelt in front of me, waiting.

  “Looks like a shard from the lamp,” Kiaya said. “There’s a lot of blood.”

  Devon held out his hand. “Let’s go outside. I can look at it there.”

  I took his outstretched hand, allowing him to help me up, and together we stepped over Kyle’s body.

  Outside, Devon led me to the pool where he urged me to sit on one of the lounge chairs before kneeling behind me. Kiaya sat at my side, her expression shaken and worried, and put a gentle hand on my knee as she waited for Devon to speak.

  “Looks like it’s still in there,” he said from behind me. “I’ll have to clean it and try to patch you up as best as I can.”

  “Are you qualified to do that?” Kiaya asked.

  “Not really,” he said. “I’m a cop, so I’ve taken basic first aid courses. That’s it. It’s not like I’m a doctor or anything.”

  “It’s more than I can do,” Kiaya said.

  “You can siphon gas.” I winced when Devon dabbed at the cut.

  Kiaya gave me a shaky smile. “In theory.”

  “Well, it’s more than I can do,” I muttered, feeling suddenly useless.

  Devon stood. “We’ll get back to this gas siphoning thing in a minute. First, I’m going to run to the main office and look for a first aid kit.”

  I half stood but stopped myself when pain throbbed through me. “You think that’s a good idea? I mean, what if there are more of them?”

  “More of who?” Devon asked. “More crazy assholes? I think I can take them. Muscle, remember?” He lifted his arm and flexed his impressive bicep, shooting me a halfhearted wink. “Plus, I’m a cop. I’m trained to take care of assholes.”

  “No,” Kiaya said. “More zombies.”

  Devon’s smile disappeared, but he didn’t lower his arm. “What?”

  “That wasn’t just a guy you killed,” I said. “It was a zombie.”

  “Shut up.” He let out a nervous laugh, his eyes flicking between Kiaya and me. “You can’t be serious.”

  “He was dead,” Kiaya said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I watched him die two days ago.”

  When Devon looked at me again, I nodded. “It’s true.”

  He finally dropped his arm as he shifted his gaze, focusing on the motel room we’d just fled, his expression still doubtful. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” I snapped. “Why would we lie about something so ridiculous at a time like this?”

  I blew out a breath, both from frustration and because my back was throbbing. It seemed like every interaction I had with this guy irritated me more than the last one, and this was no exception. Sure, I got why he was having a difficult time accepting that he’d just killed a zombie, but had he not smelled the rot in the room? It had been pretty pungent.

  Devon swallowed, his focus still on the motel, but not just the one room. He was studying everything. The parking lot, the closed doors to other rooms, the cars surrounding us. All the places where people had died. Where their bodies still sat because there was no one to collect them.

  “We’re surrounded,” I whispered as realization dawned on me.

  Kiaya’s back straightened as she, too, began looking around. I thought of all the people I’d seen the first day we got here and how there had been fewer and fewer each day even though the parking lot hadn’t emptied out. Like Kyle, they’d come here and died, and like Kyle, they would probably come back. When? Almost two days had passed between his last breath and when he attacked us, but was that how long it took for everyone to turn? Would they all turn? It was impossible to know because this whole scenario was ridiculous and crazy. Bodies couldn’t reanimate. They just couldn’t.

  “We need weapons,” Devon said, finally turning his gaze back to us. “Guns. Hell, even knives would be better.”

  “You said you were a cop,” Kiaya pointed out. “Aren’t you armed?”

  “I’m from Ohio. I was on vacation. I didn’t bring my fucking gun with me.”

  Devon spun around, sweeping one of the metal chairs up and slamming it against the ground a second later. The bang echoed through the air, making my heart beat harder. I scanned the motel, expecting to see a horde bearing down on us, but there was nothing. Why?

  “They’re trapped,” I said, looking from Devon—who was once again slamming the chair down—to Kiaya. “Most people died inside. In motel rooms, in their cars, or in houses. They’re trapped just like Kyle would have been if we hadn’t gone back to the room.”

  Devon slammed the chair down a third time, and it broke apart, metal pieces raining down on the cement with multiple clangs that echoed through the motel courtyard. Despite what I’d just said, I found myself looking around, waiting for undead creatures to come running. The parking lot was still empty.

  Devon scooped up one of the legs and held it like a club, turning to face us.

  “That’s a good point,” Kiaya said.

  “Which means we just have to avoid letting any of them out,” Devon added.

  “Right,” I said.

  I stood, wincing from the throbbing pain in my back.

  Kiaya was up a second later, her hand pressed against my still bleeding back. “You need to take it easy.”

  “I need to get the hell out of here,” I muttered.

  “She’s right.” Devon was at my side now. “I need to get the glass out and patch you up. You’re bleeding like crazy.”

  “It hurts like crazy,” I said, tears suddenly stinging at the back of my eyes.

  It wasn’t from the pain. It was the stress
and uncertainty, the feeling of being trapped, and the overwhelming urge to get home and see my mom.

  “We’ll get you something for that, too,” he said.

  Devon pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a sculpted chest and abs that would make Channing Tatum envious—assuming he was alive, which was doubtful. A hiss of pain broke out of me when he pressed it against my back, but he didn’t apologize. He wasn’t even paying attention to me because he was too busy surveying the area.

  “I think the office is our best bet.” His focus turned to Kiaya. “Hold this against the cut and follow me. I’ll go in first and make sure there’s nothing dangerous. Once it’s clear, you can come in. Hopefully, there’s a first aid kit, and we can do something about this. If not, I’m going to have to make a run to the pharmacy down to the street.”

  “We got some things yesterday,” Kiaya said, looking at me for confirmation.

  “Not much. All they had at the gas station was rubbing alcohol and Band-Aids.”

  Devon shook his head. “The rubbing alcohol will come in handy, but I’m going to need some tweezers so I can get the glass out.”

  Just thinking about it made my back throb.

  Devon grabbed the chair leg and headed for the gate, motioning for us to follow. I did, with Kiaya glued to my side, pressing Devon’s shirt against my throbbing back every step of the way. It was strange that the shirtless god in front of me didn’t serve as a distraction from the pain, but I couldn’t keep my eyes on him for more than two seconds because I was too busy scanning the parking lot for any sign of movement. It was as empty and quiet as it had been the day before, but I still found it impossible to stay calm. They were out there, and I knew it.

  “You think that person from yesterday was one?” Kiaya asked, breaking the silence when we were halfway across the parking lot. “The guy who threw himself against the window, I mean.”

  I thought about the barely visible figure that had banged against the window when we passed and shuddered. “Probably.”

  “I’m glad he couldn’t get out.”

  “Me, too.” My gaze focused on the interior of a car as we passed it, or more accurately, on the person in the back seat. Dead and unmoving, and probably getting ready to turn into a zombie. “I’m glad none of them can get out.”

  Devon paused when he reached the office, his hand poised above the doorknob as he peered in through the window. I couldn’t see much from my position behind him, but what I could see was more of the same. Darkness and nothing moving.

  “Looks clear,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll go in and make sure. Stay here until I come back.”

  He started to pull the door open, but I stopped him by reaching out, putting my hand on his arm. “What if you need help?”

  His lips twitched when he looked back at me. “Believe me, there will never be a time when I need your help,” he said, throwing my words from the night before back in my face.

  My cheeks got hot, but before I could respond, his smile had disappeared, and he was once again focused on the motel office.

  “I’ll be right back.” Then he shoved the door open and darted inside.

  “What was that all about?” Kiaya asked.

  “He has a knight in shining armor complex,” I said, not looking her way, too focused on watching Devon tiptoe through the lobby. “I set him straight last night. Told him I didn’t need a big, strong man to save me. Unfortunately, today proved the opposite.”

  “You did a good job holding your own,” Kiaya said. “It’s not your fault we weren’t exactly prepared for a zombie attack.”

  She had a point, but I still felt like a moron for throwing those words in Devon’s face only twelve hours before he ended up saving my ass.

  Only a few minutes passed before he returned, and he was more relaxed when he shoved the door open. “It’s clear.”

  I stepped inside when he motioned us forward, Kiaya following me, and inhaled. “I could have told you that after one whiff.”

  “I wasn’t willing to take any chances.” He waved to the small lobby where a couple stiff couches were set up. “Sit down and I’ll grab the first aid kit.”

  “He sure is bossy,” Kiaya said, just loud enough that I could hear.

  “And a major pain in the ass,” I added.

  Every move made my back throb, but lowering myself to the couch was the worst. It was like the glass was cutting me over and over again, and now that the adrenaline from my fight with Kyle had totally worn off and we were safe for the moment, I was having a difficult time thinking about anything else.

  Devon came back holding a black metal box with a big red cross on the front and took a seat on the coffee table in front of me. He didn’t look at me when he opened the lid, saying, “Turn around so I can get a look at it.”

  I obeyed despite how much his tone irked me. He needed to learn to ask, not order.

  “Kiaya, I’m going to need you to hold a light up so I can see what I’m doing.”

  “Got it,” she said.

  I looked over my shoulder to find him wiping a small pair of tweezers with an alcohol pad, and my stomach flipped. Seeing the cut was impossible thanks to its location, but I could see Devon’s shirt. It was on the floor at his feet, balled up and covered in enough blood to make my head spin.

  I looked away.

  “This is going to hurt,” Devon said only a few minutes later. His hand touched my back, urging me to bend forward a little. “Ready?”

  I sank my teeth into my lower lip and nodded.

  A sharp pain stabbed me in the back, and I jerked, barely biting back a yelp of pain.

  “Try to hold still,” he said. “Kiaya, move the light a little higher. Right there. Perfect.”

  More pain followed, throbbing through me, and this time I couldn’t hold back my wail. It took everything in me to force myself to stay still as he dug in the cut, trying to find the shard. I had to dig my nails into my palms, had to tense every muscle in my body. It seemed to go on and on, and soon drops of sweat had beaded on my forehead.

  “Almost got it,” Devon said.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, biting back whimpers.

  “There.” A second later, he pulled it free.

  I dropped forward, allowing all the tension to leave my body, and sucked in a deep breath.

  “It’s okay,” Kiaya said, her words gentle and soothing.

  “You did a good job,” Devon told me. “I’m almost done. I just need to clean it and bandage it. I wish I could stitch it up, but it doesn’t look like that’s an option right now.”

  I let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Thank God, because I don’t know if I would be able to stay conscious.”

  “You did good.” This time his voice was lower, his face just behind mine so his warm breath brushed the back of my neck, raising the hair and making my face heat up.

  I looked over my shoulder, but he was already focused on cleaning my cut. The alcohol stung, but it was nothing compared to having Devon dig the shard from my body, so I barely reacted. Plus, I was focused on him, studying his intent expression as he patched me up and trying to understand who he was. The cocky guy who’d flexed for me when we first met was gone, pushed away by someone serious and resourceful. Someone capable.

  Once he’d cleaned it, Devon tossed the alcohol wipe aside and pulled a piece of gauze and some medical tape from the first aid kit. When he was finished, he looked up, his gaze meeting mine.

  “Good as new.” He gave me a reassuring smile. “Well, not really. I’m sure you’ll have a nasty scar since we couldn’t get you to an emergency room, but there are worse things in this world.”

  “Like being the walking dead,” I replied.

  “Yeah,” he said, his smile disappearing. “Like that.”

  For a moment, we stared at each other in silence. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I was still mulling him over, trying to decide what to do next. Sneaking out of here under his nose was no longer an option, but I
wasn’t quite ready to give in and trust him. Even if he had come to our rescue, killed a zombie, put himself between us and possible danger to search for a first aid kit, and patched me up.

  Okay, all those things made him pretty badass and most likely trustworthy, but still…

  Kiaya cleared her throat, and I blinked, tearing my gaze from Devon. She lifted her eyebrows but said nothing. Neither did I, because I still didn’t know what to do about this.

  “You mentioned siphoning gas,” Devon said as he started cleaning up the first aid supplies.

  “Yeah.” Kiaya shrugged, and when I still said nothing, cleared her throat. “I haven’t tried it yet, but it’s basic physics, so assuming we can find some older cars with gas still in them, it shouldn’t be too hard. We got a couple gas cans and a hose at the gas station yesterday, so now all we have to do is try it out.”

  Devon studied her for a moment before his lips twitched and pulled up into a smile. “Basic physics, huh?”

  “Yeah…”

  She looked at me, but I shrugged.

  “I don’t know any criminals who would have described it that way, so I’m assuming you’re applying hard-earned knowledge to survival and not speaking from experience.”

  “Do I look like a criminal?” Kiaya shot back, some of her fire breaking free.

  “No.” Devon looked her up and down, his grin widening. “Not at all.”

  She relaxed. “Good.”

  He stood, the first aid kit in one hand, and motioned toward the door with the other. “The sooner we give it a shot, the sooner we’ll know if it really is basic physics.”

  “We?” I asked, unable to stay quiet.

  Devon’s smile faded. “Yeah. We. You have to be thinking the same thing I am. We could team up. Watch each other’s backs. It would be safer and easier. We’d get you home sooner.”

  I eyed him, considering it, as well as the warning Angus James had given me, and I couldn’t help thinking that traveling with a man—especially one so capable—would be to our benefit. As much as I didn’t believe I needed a knight in shining armor. I wasn’t totally sold on Devon, but the truth was I didn’t have to like him, I only had to trust him. So far, he hadn’t done anything that made him seem untrustworthy. The opposite, really. He’d saved our asses and patched me up.