Zombie Queen

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Zombie Queen Page 19

by Mary Martel

“Question,” Joseph quips, coming up to my side with his hand raised like he’s in school. Which he might as well be. I’m pretty sure we all just got schooled.

  “No,” Sam spits out, “she didn’t mean it like that, fucking pervert.”

  Both Joseph and Kemp snicker as Em’s eyes whip toward him, and his drop to the floor in apology.

  In the silence that follows, I know I need to step up and be the leader, but I find my voice lodged in the back of my throat, refusing to work. Then she steps up to the plate yet again.

  Those beautiful blue green eyes lock onto mine as she demands, “So, let’s take a vote. Who’s in?”

  I don’t have to look around to know that Russ and Dex are close with their hands raised with the rest of us. Who in their right mind would turn this girl away? Not just sexually either. She could probably hand all of us our asses with or without those blades strapped to her back. The last hand in the air is Sam’s, but she gives him time to make the choice before asking, “Anyone out?”

  A stiff nod later, she removes her hand from Kemp’s mouth and rubs it against her jeans like he licked her. Wouldn’t put it past the savage.

  “Now that we’ve got that out of the way,” she says, crossing her arms to mirror the pose I’ve fallen back into naturally. “We’ve got to discuss the real problem.”

  “Which is?” Russ asks.

  “The little fact of me seeing what I think was smoke across the lake,” she says, dropping a bomb almost bigger than the other one.

  Everyone starts speaking at once and she holds up a hand right before I can make the move myself. Never in my existence did I think I’d find a woman so much like myself sexy as hell. Yet as that tiny palm gets shoved in our faces, I can’t help but think of her claiming all of us moments ago, leaving none of us old men behind. My two heads are at war with each other until I can focus on which is more important right this second.

  Emerald describes her journey in detail from the moment she stepped foot out of the house, and I must say I’m pretty proud of her. Not everyone would have the thoughtfulness or balls really to sit for that long in wait, not knowing if there were enemies close or not. Another sting of pride hits me in the gut, and I have to control the urge to grin at her like a weirdo.

  After her admission, they all turn to me for our next move. I almost selfishly, and recklessly, want to say fuck what could be over there while we focus on staying safe on our side. The only problem with that is if we’re not careful, we’ll bring trouble right to our doorstep. Better safe than sorry, I decide to lay out a plan to go check it out. I can only hope I’m making the right call.

  Emerald

  With the enormous size of the lake, Noble told us it’d be best if we wait ‘til morning to go searching in the woods. I can’t say I disagree with that decision. Living this life of luxury away from the stench of town, it’s easy to forget that there are other things that hunt us along with dangerous people. One of the fuckfaces, or five, could sneak up on us in the dark and that’d be all she wrote. Let’s just say, I’m a lot happier as I sip at a cup of coffee, watching the first rays of sunlight trying to peek through the clouds the next morning. At least we’ll have a good visual in the woods around us.

  Perched on top of the rail with my legs dangling over the side and swords strapped to my back, I drink my mug of go-go juice, enjoying the peace and quiet. Last night, the guys had agreed to turning the generator off as a precaution. Since there are no perishables in the fridge or any other dire reason to keep it on other than hot showers, it’s not like it’ll hurt anything. The beast is buried in the basement surrounded by walls of concrete, so it doesn’t make that much noise, but in the silence of the morning, the quiet hum it normally emits is noticeable.

  Closing my eyes, it’d be easy to forget where I am. With nothing other than the sounds of nature filling my ears, it’d be easy enough to imagine a normal life just camping out in the wilderness with friends. Or even being by myself back in town. Soggy dirt and lake water scent in replacement of the rotten stench left over by the dead, of course.

  I definitely don’t miss that smell. Taking another swallow from my fast emptying mug, I admit to myself that there isn’t much that I do miss from that stage in my life. It’s being labeled as such because I won’t be going back to it. Now that I’ve felt what it’s like to not be so alone all the time and having someone else watch my back, I don’t want to run away from it. Especially, mainly, after my announcement last night and not a single one of them declining my proposal. It’s a little untraditional and my mother would likely spit fire were she here, but life is fucking short these days. I’m going to take what I want while sinning seven ways to Sunday. Who’s left to judge me for it anyway? When the only romance I’ve ever had in my life comes from the books I’ve read, I might be more than a little desperate to live out a fantasy or two, and if these guys are willing…why the hell not take advantage of what they’re offering?

  A pair of hands land on my shoulders and gives a squeeze or two. If the screen door hadn’t revealed their arrival out onto the porch, my coffee’s low reserved remains might’ve ended up in my lap.

  “You’re fired up and ready to go, aren’t you?” Dex asks in a low murmur that floats around us, breaking out goose bumps on my arms.

  You have no idea. He’s talking about the mission, Emerald. Get your head out of the gutter, you dirty bitch, and answer him before he thinks you’ve gone stupid.

  “Possibly,” I reply quickly, trying to cut off the rambling in my brain. “It’s peaceful, and I just wanted to enjoy it before I have to go chop heads off.”

  He snorts softly, and his hands fall away. Casting a quick glance over my shoulder shows he hasn’t moved from his position at my back. The top part of his hoodie is pulled over that spiky blonde hair and partially hiding a small smile. I get the feeling he’s either waiting for something or has something on his mind. I spin on the banister, setting my cup down and locking my feet around the rails running up from the floor so I don’t fall off backward.

  Dex simply stares before asking, “Did you mean what you said last night?”

  There’s no doubt as to what he means. Even if we had discussed five other subjects, I’d know what he’s referring to because it’s where my mind has been most of the morning too. Though, now that I’m at face level with him, it’s hard to have the courage to profess all of it again. My voice is lodged in my throat almost to the point of choking me, or that could be my heart that’s beating a heavy thump as though it’s trying to escape.

  Managing a nod instead, my chin lifts as he steps between my knees, stretching them further apart. He braces a hand on each side of my hips and leans so close I can smell the minty scent of his toothpaste still on his breath as it brushes across my skin. My thighs threaten to clench around his hips as I breathe him in.

  He presses in close until our chests are flush against each other, then says, “You were wrong that first night out here on the swing as much as yesterday. There’s no way anyone could mistake you for an only option, even if it wasn’t the end of the world. You’re smart enough to survive on your own. Brave enough to square up with a gang of armed men and dangerous enough to kick all of their asses. Pretty enough to knock us off our feet in case those swords don’t work. And confident enough to take on the task of having more than one of us vying for your attention. You may be the only woman in this house, but you aren’t just an option.”

  There’s probably more to his speech, but I don’t let him get it out. Wrapping one hand behind his back and sinking the other into the hair at the base of his skull, I pull him closer at the same time I yank his face down to mine. Our lips touch with a tingle that I feel all the way down to my toes. As his mouth opens, I mirror it, allowing his tongue to sweep inside. His kiss is nothing like the wild man’s. It’s not pressured or rushed. It’s as though Dex wants to take his time, letting us grow accustomed to the feel of each other.

  The first brush of his tongue is a touc
h that’s barely there before he swoops back craving more. Tiny butterflies make my stomach feel funny. Especially as I think about how easy it would’ve been to have Dex as my first kiss before the rise of the dead. He’s so sweet it’d give someone a toothache, and my mother would’ve loved him, Amy too.

  I want to dive deeper and lose myself in him for a few moments longer because that’s likely all we have before we’re interrupted. Shouldn’t have even let that thought drift across my mind.

  A throat clears over by the door, and Noble’s rumbling voice makes it clear just how long he’s been standing there as he mutters, “And here I was thinking Russ was our smooth talker.”

  “That’s because he is.” Dex smiles without taking his gaze off me.

  My heart does a pitter patter in my chest as I think about the quiet man in front of me reserving such speeches for this. Then my eyes find Noble. He’s still standing by the door in his usual pose of arms across his chest, but there’s a softness to his smile that wasn’t there before last night. I’m going to enjoy peeling back those layers as much as I love pissing off the wild man and can’t wait to get started. Too bad we’ve got a job to do today.

  As though he’s reading my thoughts, loud enough for his voice to travel back through the open door, Noble announces, “Time to move, people.”

  Joseph

  When Noble devised his plan of action last night and said we’d be splitting up into teams, I never thought I’d actually be included. It’s common that I’m left at home to “guard the perimeter” and Grandma. They might as well be waving a flag that says Joseph is a baby that can’t take care of himself. So, when he said that Graham would be staying home this time, I don’t care to show off the pep in my step this morning. Guilt tries to eat me alive because part of the reason might be because Grandma is getting so bad off that the doc needs to stay and watch over her.

  It’s strange how fast her condition changes. One second, she’s just fine, laughing it up with Emerald and hounding us about treating her right. The next, she’s struggling to take a breath through her overtaxed lungs. We’ve talked long and hard about her next step, and though she’s ready, I’m not sure that I am.

  My mom was my best friend. We’d lived on Souix tribe land until right around the time I became a teenager. Then, for whatever reason, she’d packed us up and moved us two states away. It wasn’t long before my grandma followed us. Apparently, as poor as she liked to live, it’s only because she’d been hoarding a stash of cash that was big enough to buy her this house on the lake. Too bad my mom didn’t approve of the school systems here. Otherwise, I might’ve met Emerald sooner.

  We moved to the city, and life was grand until that fateful day Mom tried to save a kid on the street from our neighbor. He’d turned around and took a hunk of meat right out of her shoulder. She died and turned so fast that I hadn’t even had a chance to cry over her loss. I did the first thing that came to mind, the one thing she told me to do if shit got bad. Run. All of our shit was already packed and in the car, but I didn’t know how to drive at that point. What I did know was that I’d placed first in every cross-country competition I’d competed in. I went to the one and only place that I could think of. School.

  There weren’t any teachers and a only a few of us students, but there was a surplus of freshly turned zombies. I ran straight into Russ and Dex. We’d cleaned house with a few other kids and turned the school into our home. It’s crazy because not even the week before, none of us were friends, circles never mingling in the least. Then there we were fighting to survive and watching each other’s backs. It wasn’t an ideal location considering how much we used to bitch about having to attend the damn place, but there was food, the doors sealed tight with a double layer of protection with chains, and sleep was actually good. Even if our mattresses were nothing more than clothes and shit from the lost and found. Two couches in the teacher’s lounge were good for sleeping, too, but there were only two of them. We’d made out a schedule, so we could all share.

  After a while, along came Kemp, Noble, and Graham. I wasn’t necessarily thrilled about leaving the school, but Dex and Russ outvoted me. Plus, I was the only one who knew the way to my grandma’s house here on the lake. It was a long shot, but according to Noble and the others, it was worth it. He was right about needing to put as much distance between us and the city as possible. Only several people had stayed behind when we loaded up packs and left.

  It’s those thoughts that have words spilling from my lips long after Noble demanded silence as we make our way through the woods. “Know what I miss?”

  The big man grunts softly, trying to remind me to keep quiet. It doesn’t work, of course. Therein might lie one of the biggest reasons I’m never allowed to go on group missions. Shit. Dex almost died on the last one because of me. That is the only thing that stops the next words from flowing from my lips. We wouldn’t dramatically die were something to happen to Noble, but I damn sure would miss the big man.

  In lieu of that, I seal my lips and focus my attention on the scenery instead. Normally bursting to the brim with noises of birds and small insects, it’s easy enough to ping on the fact that there’s absolute silence surrounding us. Nervousness sits high in my stomach, threatening to make me sick. I’m such a wuss when it comes to zombies. I think I’d rather face off against that stupid gang than them. Sometimes those childhood nightmares never seem to go away like they should. Another reason I was grateful for Noble delaying this until today. If we had gone out last night, I would’ve been torn between trying to hide my fear of the dark, on top of zombies, and volunteering to stay back. Trying to save face in front of the badass chick that Emerald is would’ve landed me right in the dark woods.

  After the third time of irritatingly pushing my hair out of my face, I begin to wish I would’ve asked Em for a hair tie or something. Whenever one of the strands catches the sun just right, my mind plays tricks on me, telling me there’s something moving in my peripheral, and my hand tightens around the baseball bat hanging loosely at my side. Guns would make me feel loads safer out here, but unfortunately, they’d draw too much attention. Noble’s got one tucked into his rear waistband, which he doesn’t plan on using unless it’s an emergency situation. The crowbar clenched in his left fist is his primary weapon. Hopefully neither of us will need to use them.

  His plan is to have us all coming in at different angles on the spot Em saw the smoke yesterday. Dex, Russ, and Sam are heading off the opposite side, leaving Emerald and Kemp to follow in our tracks. There’s a small feeling of safety knowing they’re on our trail, so I hope the other three can manage by themselves.

  We walk for hours, judging by the sun’s position now hanging high over our heads. Leaves crackle beneath our shoes, sounding louder than usual. It’s warm enough to make beads of sweat pop out on Noble’s bald head. Poor guy is built like a mountain, and that shiny head of his must get hot in the summer.

  I snort, the sound echoing around us. Noble’s eyes whip to mine, narrowing with warning before widening with surprise. His heavy hand lands on my shoulder half a second before I’m thrown to the side, barely catching myself before I face plant into a tree.

  By the time I’m able to turn back around, Noble’s back is in the dirt with a gun pointed in his face. The crowbar lies useless in his hands and his own gun stuck between a rock and a hard place at his back. With no hesitation, I grip my bat two-handed, ready to swing at that wrist holding the big man hostage. Just as I lift my arm, something pegs me in the back of the head. My eyes close on instinct from the pain, and I’m pretty sure I black out for a few seconds.

  The next thing I know, I’m waking up face down in dirt and leaves beside Noble. Groaning, I roll to my back, finding two strangers standing over us, both armed with weapons and furious frowns.

  “What are you doing out here?” the blond asks, his ice blue eyes shooting daggers into us. Between the two of them, his appearance makes him seem like the nicer one. Faded blue-jeans, plaid
button-up shirt, and chin-length blond hair, he looks quite the lumberjack hippie. I truly hope we make it out of this, so Em and I can have a good laugh at this dude. If it weren’t for the eyes and the gun in our faces, I’d say he’d be more likely to force us to do yoga than shoot us.

  His friend, on the other hand, looks meaner than a caged tiger forced to jump through fire hoops. The sides of his head are shaved down to the skin, leaving a flopping strip of dark hair like an overgrown mohawk. The blue of his eyes is darker than the lumberjack hippie’s too, but his expression doesn’t make me feel like he’s going to get enjoyment out of killing us. He’s got big gauges in his earlobes and a piercing in his left eyebrow. Not to mention the tattoos flowing down both arms under the rolled-up sleeves of his black Henley. We could’ve been friends before all this. He just looks like my kind of person.

  Too bad.

  This must be their version of good cop bad cop. I watched plenty of this shit in the movies. It’ll be the tiger that shoots first. I’d bet on it.

  Noble interrupts the thoughts racing through my mind. “That’s what we’re here to ask you. No need for violence.”

  “Look around you, dickhead,” hippie growls, his voice dropping an octave. “There’s nothing but violence if you want to stay alive, and I want to do just that.” Cocking the lever back on the pistol, he adds, “So, tell me what you’re doing here and who the fuck sent you, or you’ll be eating this bullet for your last meal.”

  “Or you will,” a voice like a terrifying avenging angel says at their backs as a sword gets pressed to the side of his neck. Even if I couldn’t see the outline of Kemp behind the man in front of me, I’d still know he’s got a crossbow bolt aimed at the back of the dude’s head.

  Sounding as furious as Emerald, our red-haired friend states, “Drop your weapons and let’s have a chat, yeah?”

 

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