Zombie Queen

by Mary Martel

  “What, this?” wild man teases, holding the bag out to me.

  I step forward to take it, but he wrenches it back at the last second. Unfortunately, I know what’s inside this bag and am prepared to guard it with my life. He’s not ready for my grip to tighten, and we end up ripping the zipper apart, one end to the other. All of the nice, clean, almost brand new panties I’d grabbed at my house spill out onto the dirty floor. I clench my eyes shut and lean my head back as the barn goes silent.

  “Why do I always miss the fun stuff?” a new voice asks, walking in from outside.

  Perfect, just what I need. This newcomer is tall and has more defined, lean muscles, without all the bulk the guys already in here have. His long dark hair hangs down to his abs, swaying as he strides over. He’s got a bit of a lazy eye, but it doesn’t take anything away from the bright gray of the color. Nor his face. I don’t know if I’ve just been deprived of male contact for so long, or if I’m going into heat or something, but all of these guys are super hot. Even the ring through his septum is sexy, and that’s a first for me.

  “You miss out on the good stuff because you don’t know how to follow directions,” Dex says, clearing his throat first.

  The stranger shrugs him off before holding out a hand to me. “I’m Joseph.”

  For the first time since waking up in that other room, when I stand up to rub the skin around my wrists that are raw from the rope, I realize my hand had been bandaged. He’s nice enough to barely grip it as I introduce myself and Sam.

  The latter just grunts before opening his mouth to embarrass the piss out of me. “You risked your life for underwear?”

  I feel bad seeing as Graham is still working on his forehead, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him get away with it. “Mind your business, Farmer Ted. I didn’t risk my life for anything. Come to think of it…I’ve lived a very quiet existence for months now before any of you came along. So how about none of you worry yourselves about me or my panties, and we’ll get along just fine.”

  Shoving the nearly empty bag at the redhead in front of me, whose fault this is in the first place, I growl, “Hold this, wild man.”

  “Kemp.” He smirks, grasping the shoulder straps of the bag.

  I roll my eyes before bending down to gather as many of my panties off the floor as I can in one haul. Unfortunately, Joseph and smooth talker decide to help. The latter with his face turning pink.

  “What’s your name, soldier?” I tease, trying for distraction as we stuff all my intimates into wild man’s waiting arms.

  He looks anywhere but at me, making him all the more attractive. “Russell, but you can call me Russ.”

  "Well, Russ, now that you've handled my underwear, I think it would be pretty safe to ask if you'd show me where I'm going to be staying," I profess.

  Without glancing at the others, he gives a short inclination of his head before taking the lead out of the barn. I'd been hoping that I could get him alone to sponge for more information and see if these guys are actually legit, but Kemp and Joseph follow behind us.

  "Sorry I shoved you," I apologize, trying to play nice.

  He shrugs and smiles down at me. "No worries. I would've done the same thing if I were you."

  It's clear as day why he was the one to approach me in that alley. Not only does he have a certain charm to him no matter what words are pouring out of his mouth, but he's nice to look at too. One of the guys behind us clears their throat as I'm taking him in. I flick my eyes out towards the body of water in front of us when Russ catches me.

  Being caught checking him out puts a little nervous bubble in the pit of my stomach. I'll be leaving them just as soon as I can. No ties, no attachments. Best to keep that in mind and not let my hormones get the better of me.

  Instead of letting some ridiculous nonsense slip from my lips, I ask the first thing that pops into my head. “I could’ve imagined this, but I’m pretty sure there was a light on in the room I was in when I woke up.”

  He nods, but it’s Joseph that answers in excitement as he comes up to my other side and tosses an arm around my shoulders. I glare at him, but he wasn’t in the barn whenever I dished out the rules, and he starts talking before I can reprimand him for touching me, anyway. “This entire cabin has solar panels, so we have power, hot showers, the works.”

  Ignoring the way his hair tickles my skin as we walk, I ask, “How did you know about it?”

  But then the tickling brings something else front and foremost to mind and has me wheeling on all of them. “Hey! Where’s my jacket? And my sword?”

  “You didn’t make that one of the conditions,” Kemp states plainly.

  I turn on him so fast that he doesn’t even have time to react. “Neither is me not killing one of you, so unless you want to end up being one of the undead fuckfaces or losing your left testicle, I suggest you give me my shit back.”

  We’re already chest to chest, but he leans down until we’re on eye level to. “Maybe you should learn how to not act like a rabid little chihuahua who lost their favorite toy and ask nicely.”

  His breath fans out across my face, and I imagine this is one of those moments in the books I’ve read that leads to a passionate kiss. Don’t get me wrong, the thought of sinking my fingers into those auburn locks and jerking his lips to mine crosses my mind, but I really want my stuff. And I’m not backing down.

  Lucky for us both, we’re saved by Graham’s gentle voice. “Knock it off, Kemp. Your stuff is inside, waiting for you, Emerald. Noble wasn’t lying when he said we didn’t want anything from you. How’s your head feeling by the way? The guys said you took a pretty hard hit on the pavement.”

  My eyes narrow on Kemp as I reply, “I’m fine. Wouldn’t have hit my head if these jerkfaces weren’t chasing me.”

  “Would you mind me taking a look at it once we’re inside?” he asks, dismissing my words.

  I grind my teeth together, but a meaty hand belonging to the gorilla lands on Kemp’s shoulder, pulling him out of my face. With him at a safe distance now, I peer over at Graham. “If you think it’s necessary.”

  The smile that crosses his face is just as potent as Kemp’s abrasiveness moments ago. I’m going to have to be very careful around this crew, or I’ll be in serious danger when it comes time to leave.

  Emerald

  “How long have you been on your own?” Graham asks once we’re sitting in a room made up to look like a doctor’s office complete with the paper-covered bed and multiple first aid kits stacked against the wall.

  I hop up on the bed and wish I hadn’t when I put pressure on my bad ankle, and the pain from both it and my head decide to make a reappearance. They beat in tandem with my heart. Propping my elbows on my thighs, I lay my head down on my fists before replying, “How long have you been a doctor?”

  There’s a small huff as if he’s amused, and as I lift my eyes to him, I see a smile on his face. “Take turns? You first.”

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I answer, “A few months. When it first started, I was with an old teacher from my school. She saved my life.”

  “What happened?” he asks taking a seat in a chair across from me.

  I waggle a finger at him. “Nope. You only get one answer per turn.”

  He steeples his fingers across his stomach. “I’m not a doctor. I mean, I have a doctorate, but it’s in veterinary medicine.”

  A laugh bubbles from lips before I can stop it. It’s been so long since I’ve found real humor in anything, that once I get started, it’s hard to stop. Minutes and a pounding headache later, I finally get myself under control and have to wipe the tears from under my eyes. “You’re a vet. As in doctor of animals. Seems fitting, eh, considering that’s pretty much what humanity has become?”

  His grin displays a dimple on his left cheek that’s visible even through the dark scruff. Until today, I had no idea how much I loved dimples or tanned skin for that matter.

  “Where is your family originally
from?” I ask out of turn and curiosity.

  “Venezuela,” he replies easily, giving me a freebie. “What happened to your companion?”

  Sucking my bottom lip through my teeth, I deliberate on how to answer him before settling on the truth. “I killed her.”

  If I hadn’t been staring at him, I probably wouldn’t have noticed the small narrowing of his eyes as if he doesn’t believe me.

  “Before or after she became a zombie?” he pries.

  Returning his leap of faith, I admit, “Both.”

  When both of his eyebrows go up in query, I find myself drawn to explaining. “There were a few supplies at the…place we were. But they didn’t last very long with two people. She never said, but I know she felt obligated to take care of me. When the food started running out, she had to start going outside. The town used to be overrun with undead. Those thirty or so behind that fence in the alley where the others chased me was nothing compared to how many there were at first. Being freshly turned and all made them harder to kill, too. Neither of us had guns, which I’m grateful for now. All that does is attract more of them. She went out to get food and never came back. A couple days later, when I gained enough courage to poke my head outside, I found her. One of those fuckfaces had chewed her leg down to the bone, and part of her scalp was missing. And, well, you know how that story ends.”

  Somewhere in the middle of my story, his leg started bouncing. “What about your family?”

  A whoosh of breath leaves my lungs. “Dead. I went back to take care of them too, but in my hurry to get away from my sister who wanted to eat my face, I left the door open. I can only hope that someone has put them out of commission, so they can’t hurt anyone.”

  “I had a son,” he confesses out of nowhere. “Lived about five hours away from me in the city with his mom. For weeks, I begged her for them both to come stay with me until all this blew over. She kept making excuses as to why she couldn’t or simply wouldn’t. The last time I heard from her, reports were coming out of infection in the city. I drove down in my practice’s van and made it all the way to the outskirts before I was robbed at gunpoint. They took my van, all of my equipment, and unbelievably enough, my wallet. Humanity does have a way of showing its true colors in the midst of extinction. I went on foot the rest of the way. That’s how I came to know Kemp and Noble. They were trying to get out as I was trying to get in but agreed to stick with me to help me find my boy.”

  He pauses and looks away. “We made it, but was too late. I should’ve known better. She was a nurse and likely contracted the virus at the hospital where she worked then turned at home.”

  A tear slips down my cheek and soaks into my pants when it falls, and he winces, still not looking at me. “The three of us stuck together for that long, so we fought our way back out as a team. We’d been going for weeks, fighting and barely scraping by on food and water when we came across a little town, not too different than yours. They seem to be all over the place on this side of the state. Noble and Kemp wanted to stop at this school sitting on the border. It was obvious there were people inside. The fence surrounding the property was littered with the dead. I'm ashamed to say I let them face it alone. It was still too soon for me, you know. I couldn't face it if there were kids. Which there was, of course. Just the much older variety. It's where we found Joseph, Russ, and Dex. They'd holed up inside and were living off supplies from the cafeteria. We cleared out the zombies around the fence. That was the first night in weeks that the three of us got a decent meal and good night's sleep. Joseph's family owned a cabin up here on the lake, and he convinced us that it'd be a good place to stick around for a few weeks. Took us what felt like forever to make it up here on foot. Their cabin is across the water and was ok, but not ideal for long term. When we found this one completely void of life and filled with such amenities, it was as if we'd finally caught a break."

  What had started out as a friendly game of getting to know each other turned into a full-on aftermath story. Not that I'm complaining in any way, but it's just a lot to take in all at once. The thought of his little boy and the mother doesn't sit well in my stomach and even drags my soul down to dark places, thinking about how he must've felt. Parents are the one person in the world that are meant to love and take care of you. My heart breaks for them all, knowing what that little boy went through at the hands of a mother that so obviously loved him. Hell, I could've been there myself if I hadn't been smart enough to run.

  Trying to drag myself out of that dark pit of hell, I move on to the next item in my processing brain. "If you guys have been here for a while, how come we never ran into each other?"

  "On the road, we'd seen what people were willing to do to each other to survive," he answers, finally looking back to me. "We aren't and never want to be that way. Since there was a stockpile of canned goods in the basement, a spring-fed water source, and solar panels covering the roof, there was no need for us to. We could finally relax for a minute."

  I get it now. "You're getting low on supplies again?"

  "You could say that," he replies, wiping his hands down his thighs as he sits up. "We've got an abundant source of meat, but all the other stuff is starting to run out. Eventually, it'll all be gone anyways if the government can't get their shit together and fix this."

  My eyes narrow at the obvious nervousness. "When you say meat, you're not talking cannibalism right? Because I have to warn you, I won't taste very good."

  His laugh is loud, and it echoes around the room, bouncing out into the hall through the open door.

  "Peaches," Kemp’s voice says from the doorway.

  I lift my chin at him in contempt. "Excuse me?"

  That wicked corner of his lips tilts up. "I bet you taste like peaches."

  Vomit. If he is trying to get into my pants, he should know about my aversion to the disgusting slimy things. I know my nose bunches in distaste as I think about the last can I ate.

  His eyebrow goes up in question, but Graham saves me from snapping at him. "Is there something you needed, Kemp?"

  "Volunteered to come let you know that dinner will be on the table soon," he replies with a waggle of his eyebrows toward me that I try to ignore.

  "Thanks," Graham tells him. "We'll be there in a few."

  "Sorry about him," he says once Kemp leaves. "He doesn't really talk much about what happened before he met us, and I'm not sure if how he is now is a product of that, or if he's always been that way. Are you ready to tell me what hurts?"

  "Did you tell me your story to put me at ease, so I'd trust you?" I inquire.

  His smile is sad as he shakes his head. "No, I told you because I see the pain in you that I've harbored since leaving the city. Like attracting like and all that."

  There's something about him that makes me want to confess all of my secrets even if that doesn't make me very smart. For now, I'll just start with letting him fix me up. "My head hurts pretty bad. Anytime I move too fast for sure. It was a lot worse when I first got up, but I can still feel my heartbeat in my skull."

  He dips his head. "That's understandable and not uncommon with head injuries. Is there anything else that hurts? What about your hand?"

  I flex my fingers on the hand with the bandage. "It probably needs some antiseptic so that it doesn't get infected but should be fine. I tweaked my ankle on the sidewalk, and it still hurts pretty bad."

  Rolling my eyes at the ceiling, I admit, "It's the reason why I'm still here. It hurt to put pressure on it while I was running. I was just going to rest it for a second in the barn, but we see how that went."

  "Will you take your boot off for me?" he asks, strolling over to one of the first aid kits in the corner.

  Doing as he asks and unlacing my boot, I say, "It makes sense, you know. A vet surviving the invasion of the undead."

  "Hmm, why's that?" he replies, seemingly distracted with the items in front of him.

  "Well," I start, "you have all of this medical expertise that a doctor would, f
or one, and not stuck in the densely-populated hospital when shit starts going down. For two, I'd say you're used to having to make special shit out of nothing if there isn't the right thing to fix up the problem. Last but not least, three, your patients tend to bite, so you've got special training to protect yourself from it."

  This earns me another laugh from him, and I find myself praying to every romance novel god there is that he doesn't turn out to be a psycho. I could really see him growing on me in the future.

  He pulls out a rolling chair from beneath the desk against the wall and positions it in front of me before setting some wrap and gauze at my side. I allow him to pull my foot into his lap and start pressing on the tender skin around my ankle.

  "It sounds like you've given this a lot of thought," he implies.

  A hiss escapes me as his fingers find a sore spot. "There are more books out there on zombies than anyone ever realizes. I've spent the past couple months reading a lot of them."

  When I see the calculating expression cross his face, it makes me worry that I've said too much, but he doesn't pry. Instead, switching the topic back to my foot, he replies, "I think it's safe to say nothing is broken. You're tough, but even the strongest wouldn't have been able to hobble around on a broken ankle, let alone jump or run on it. I think it's just a really bad sprain. We're going to wrap it, and I want you to rest, keeping it elevated. Don't put your boot back on either. I don't have any crutches here, unfortunately, so we can help you get around."

  I scoff at that, "I don't need help to walk."

  He tips his head slightly. "Even if it helps you to heal faster, so you can leave when you're ready? This could take weeks or even months if you don't take it easy."

  Clenching my eyes shut, I let my head fall back on my shoulders. I know when I've been defeated and need to wave the little white flag. "Fine."

  Something I hadn't confided is how ticklish the bottom of my feet are, so when his fingers skim across the skin on the bottom, I jerk my leg back, fighting a giggle. A smile lights up his face, and he apologizes before more carefully wrapping a brown ace bandage around my foot and ankle. Once he's done, he reaches for my hand, and I give it over too. I wince when I get my first good look underneath the gauze as he removes it. There's a good three-inch slice that runs from my fingers to the bottom of my palm. Damn, I'm stupid. All of these careful precautions I've taken over the past couple months, and I do some nonsense like cut my own freaking hand open. Even if I would've been successful and gotten away from these men, there's no guarantee it wouldn't have become infected. Of all the outcomes that I can envision coming from this...I'd say this choice wasn't such a bad one after all. Well, as long as they don't try to eat me that is.