More than Survival (A Zombie Apocalypse Love Story Book 1)

by Kate L. Mary

  “Lucy?” I took one step toward her.

  When her head jerked up, her eyes were big and round and shimmered with tears, but she nodded. “I killed them. I’ve killed the dead before, but never a man. I’ve never had to. But they were going to kill me. No. Worse. They came up here to do other things.” She blinked. “I think they were talking about my uncle.”

  “What did they say?” I asked, walking toward her with my hands held out in front of me. I didn’t know why, but it felt like the least threatening pose and I didn’t want her to be frightened. I didn’t want her to think I was like those men.

  She swallowed. “Nothing specific, just something about an old man. Like they knew Seamus lived up here and that I was with him. But I know my uncle never told anyone I was here. He wouldn’t have done that.”

  When I was standing in front of her I ease the knife out of her hand. She let me, barely noticing, and her gaze moved back to the men at her feet. The second one had stopped moving and his skin had lost all color. I wasn’t surprised, but at the same time, I was. She had fought off two grown men by herself.

  “They probably just figured it out,” I said, not wanting her to think that her uncle would have betrayed her or put her in danger. “He brought stuff back for you, right?” She nodded. “So they probably just noticed.”

  “You’re right,” she mumbled. “You’re right.”

  “Lucy?” I said again. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” The word came out like a sigh. “I am. I shouldn’t be after taking two lives, but I can only feel relief. It was them or me, and Seamus always told me that I couldn’t let anyone get the jump on me. I had to shoot first. Metaphorically, of course.”

  I wanted to hug her, to tell her how impressed I was with her, but even though she said she was okay, I was afraid she was in shock and I wanted to get her back to the cabin and warmed up just in case.

  “You did a good job.” I motioned for her to step over the bodies. “Let’s get the deer and get home.”

  She only nodded in response.

  Butchering the deer and getting the meat packed up for storage took hours, but it gave me time to think. The second I heard Lucy scream I’d assumed the worse—Lisa all over again—but this woman wasn’t Lisa. She was nothing like Lisa. She was strong and independent and capable and a million other things. She’d taken out two grown men before I’d even had a chance to get there, and she hadn’t even gotten a scratch on her in the process. It was unbelievable.

  Suddenly, it occurred to me that being with her wouldn’t be adding a weight to my shoulders. It would be the opposite. We had only been together for a few days, but from the very first day we’d worked as a team, each of us doing our part to make sure things got done. It had been an easy transition. Effortless even.

  When I dragged myself back inside I was beat, but I was also anxious to talk to Lucy. I wanted to know what had happened and make sure she was holding up okay. I’d killed men, too many to keep track of, and the first time had felt like a dream. No, a nightmare. A very bad nightmare that was impossible to wake up from.

  There was more to it, though. Since the first moment I’d laid eyes on her in the snow, I’d been fighting this growing attraction. Even when she had kissed me, I’d pushed her away. I’d been scared. Scared that I’d get a repeat of what had happened with Lisa. Now that I knew her better though, I realize that wasn’t the case. Maybe this thing with Lucy could work out after all. Maybe I could actually start over and be happy.

  She wasn’t in the kitchen or in the living room, so I headed for the bedrooms. I kept my steps light though, not wanting to scare her. The house was quiet, and it entered my mind that she might be napping, but when I got closer to her room what sounded like a gasp of pain penetrated her closed door.

  After the events of the day my imagination went wild. Someone else had found the cabin, I was sure of it, and Lucy was in trouble. She needed me, but I knew I had to keep my movements slow and quiet. I couldn’t let the intruders know I was coming to her rescue.

  The hinges didn’t creek when I pushed the door open, and the second I laid eyes on her I froze. Lucy’s back was to me and she had no idea I was behind her, and she was totally naked. Her auburn hair was piled on top of her head, a couple loose waves cascading down around her bare shoulders. Her skin was smooth and pale, her hips round and perfect. On the floor in front of her sat a basin of water, and I stood frozen in place as she knelt in front of it and dipped her washcloth in. She rang it out, then ran it down her neck and over her chest, her eyes closed like she was enjoying it. The side of her breast was visible, her nipple pebbled from the cold air. Logically, I knew I should walk away, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything but stare in awe.

  I don’t know how long I stood in the doorway, but eventually my brain focused enough that I was able to back away. I shut the door softly, praying that she wouldn’t hear anything, and then headed to my own room, feeling like an ass and a pervert, but unable to get how she looked out of my head.

  Lucy was still in her room when I came out. I’d managed to take the edge off my desire, but not by much, and I knew it wouldn’t last long. The image of her naked body was tattooed on my brain, a permanent reminder that would keep me awake for many nights to come.

  When she finally came out of the bedroom, wearing her pajamas and smiling shyly, I felt like the biggest asshole in the world. Every step she took had me picturing how she looked without clothes on. The roundness of her ass, the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts. It was torture being so close to her but not being allowed to strip her down and see it all again.

  “Thank you for butchering the deer.” She slid into the big overstuffed chair and pulled her legs up to her chest. “I can do it, but it makes me a bit sick to my stomach. I appreciate the help.”

  “You’re welcome.” I swallowed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Good.” She nodded twice. “I know I should probably be more shaken up than I am, but I’m not. I don’t feel bad.”

  “You shouldn’t feel bad.”

  “Good,” she said again. “Sawyer, do you think my uncle could be alive?”

  I exhaled when the image of her breasts flashed through my eyes. “I don’t know, Lucy. I wish I could go down the mountain right now and check it out, but with the snow as deep as it is, it’s going to be impossible. We’ll have to wait until spring.”

  “Can he last that long?” she whispered.

  The conversation should have been like a bucket of cold water, but it wasn’t, and I had to force my brain to focus. “If they’re keeping him alive now, chances are they have a reason.”

  I didn’t want to say that the reason could be her, but the thought had entered my head. If they wanted something from Seamus she would be good leverage. The question was: Did Seamus have something they would want? I couldn’t imagine anything more valuable than food these days, unless you counted women. Which some men did.

  Lucy lapsed into silence, staring at the fire, and I found myself watching her, thinking about the last thought that had gone through my head. Assuming someone was keeping her uncle captive, could she possibly be the reason? It was probable, but only if someone had seen her. Life down there was rough, and a lot of people had given up. A woman like Lucy was rare: beautiful and flawless. If word had somehow gotten around that she was up here, it wouldn’t have surprised me to find out that men were going to great lengths to find her.

  “Has anyone ever come up the mountain to visit you?” I asked.

  Lucy tore her gaze away from the fire and looked at me. “No. I told you, until I met you, I hadn’t spoken to anyone but my uncle.”

  “And he doesn’t have any friends down there?”

  Lucy shrugged, but then she froze. “Maybe. I mean, he has contacts. He left me very specific instructions about who I should deal with if for some reason I had to go down there. He also told me that I was to dress like a boy.” She flushed. “He said not to let them know I was girl
if I could avoid it.”

  “Good advice,” I mumbled thoughtfully. “Who did your uncle say you should deal with?”

  She pressed her lips together. “Someone named Mick who deals in grain. He said that if I went down, I should only deal with Mick and to tell him that I was with Seamus. Apparently, this guy was supposed to be able to get me everything I needed.”

  Mick. I knew the guy, nice but I loudmouth. If Seamus had a deal with him, that meant Mick probably knew Lucy was up here. Maybe he hadn’t met her personally, but it was possible that just him spilling the beans about a secluded girl in the mountains would have set some of those guys off.

  “We just need to keep an eye out,” I said, not wanting to scare her. “Just in case anyone else pops up.”

  Lucy’s brow furrowed but she nodded. I could tell her mind was still on her uncle, and even though I wanted to broach the subject of the kiss we’d shared, I let it go. There was too much going on right now to worry about that. We’d get to it.

  Chapter 12

  LUCY

  Sawyer and I fell into a routine. He made breakfast and then we did our chores before spending the rest of the day curled up in front of the fire. We’d talk, play games, read, or just sit in silence. It was nice and comfortable, and as the days grew shorter and the snow got deeper, I found myself thinking more and more about the man I was living with as something other than a friend.

  He was exactly like a hero from one of my novels. At first I’d thought it was a childish idea, but the more I got to know him, the more I realized it wasn’t. Sawyer was everything a man should be—respectful and kind, funny and serious, sexy—and even though I now knew that I didn’t need a man, I was still attracted to him.

  The more time I spent with him, the greater the longing became. The one kiss we’d shared was so long ago now that it felt like a dream, but I thought about it often. During the day when we talked, staring at his lips as they moved. At night when I was lying in bed, desperately trying to sleep. It seemed to be on my mind more and more as the days passed, haunting me.

  There were even times when I was sure Sawyer felt it too. His eyes would follow me as I crossed the room or I’d look up from my book and find him watching me. We never talked about it, just like we never spoke about what would happen once the snow melted, and he kept his promises. He didn’t touch me and he didn’t walk around half naked, but still, just being in a room with him was torture at times.

  It was late December when I finally admitted to myself that I didn’t want him to leave. Yes, I had realized that I didn’t need a man, but it finally occurred to me that it was okay to want one. It was normal and right for me to want someone at my side, and the more I thought about it the more I realized that Sawyer fit the role perfectly. We complimented each other, made every day easier for each other, and most of all, turning our backs on it now would be idiotic.

  We still had a couple months of snow in front of us, but eventually it would warm up and I wasn’t sure if Sawyer would want to leave when that happened. He’d told me that he would go to town to look for Seamus, but I wasn’t sure what would happen if we found my uncle alive. If he came back here, would Sawyer take that to mean there was no room for him in my life? Was there room for him in my life if Seamus returned? There were only two rooms, so where would my uncle’s return put Sawyer? In my bed?

  This wasn’t his home, and as much as he liked my cabin, I couldn’t help thinking about how he’d told me he’d been working on his own place. Would he be willing to give it up, or was this place just a pit stop until winter passed?

  The ache in my heart grew until it was sharp and painful. I didn’t like thinking Sawyer was just using my cabin until he could get home.

  I thought it through as I pulled my uncle’s shirt out of the washbasin and twisted the fabric between my hands, wringing out as much water as I could before taking it to the line. In the beginning it had been weird to see Sawyer in my uncle’s clothes, but I’d gotten used to it by now. I’d taken in some of the pants, and even though the shirts were a bit large, it wasn’t a bad fit. Still, sometimes I’d see Sawyer out of the corner of my eye and think it was my uncle walking into the room. Usually when the truth hit me, the ache was sharp and painful.

  I went back to the kitchen and picked up the final item of clothing. It was the sweater I’d been wearing when Sawyer found me. The hole the stick had made was about two inches wide and the wool surrounding it was stained from the blood. Suddenly, the hopelessness I’d felt out there in the snow came back with so much force that it took my breath away. What would I have done if Sawyer hadn’t found me out there?

  I thought back to a few years ago when Seamus had been sick. I was maybe fourteen at the time, and he’d come down with an illness so violent he’d barely been able to get out of bed for two days straight. Everything had been left up to me, plus the added task of taking care of him. It had been a long two days, and after Seamus had gotten over it he’d mused over the fact that I’d saved his life. Without me here, he wouldn’t have been able to eat or feed the animals. The firewood would have gone unattended, as well as the fire, and he could have frozen to death. It had been the dead of winter, after all. He would have been in deep trouble.

  It taught us a valuable lesson: you need a partner in this world if you want to live.

  The door swung open and a gust of wind swept inside, making the jars lined up above the sink rattle together. Sawyer stepped inside, stomping his boots so the snow would fall off. His arms were so full of wood that he couldn’t shut the door, so I rushed over to help.

  He was too bundled up to speak. A scarf wrapped around his head, covering everything but his eyes. Blue eyes so clear and beautiful that when he looked at me, my heart clenched.

  Sawyer dropped the wood on the pile then ripped the scarf off. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were bright red, and his hands were probably colder than ice. I hurried to get some hot tea for him.

  “It’s bad out there,” he said from behind me.

  “How are the animals?”

  “Hanging in there.”

  Sawyer stripped off his coat while I held the mug for him, waiting patiently. His gloves came next, then his boots. When he was done he walked toward me. I held the mug out and his eyebrows moved up in surprise, disappearing under the strands of hair that hung over his forehead. I wanted to run my fingers through them, to push them away so he could see better. So I could see him better.

  “For me?”

  “Of course. I want to make sure you’re comfortable here,” I said, choosing my words carefully. Trying not to say anything that might indicate this was a temporary stop for him. “If you hadn’t found me that day, I probably would have died, and I’m so grateful.”

  Sawyer took the mug, but he didn’t smile. His eyes studied me as he sipped the hot liquid. “You saved my life too, you know.”

  “What?” I shook my head. “How?”

  “I was lost, Lucy. I’m not sure if I’ve even told you that, but I was. If I hadn’t heard you scream, I probably would have died out there too.”

  My heart jumped, thinking about Sawyer wandering around in the forest until he finally froze to death.

  “I guess it’s a good thing I got hurt,” I whispered.

  Sawyer’s mouth twitched, but his expression remained oddly serious as he stared down at me. “I guess so.” His gaze moved to my lips briefly before flitting away. “I smell like a barn, I’m going to get changed.”

  The heat from his body swept over me on his way by, and I felt my heart tremble. All my earlier thoughts came back and I found myself wanting to stop him. To beg him to stay here with me even after the snow melted, even if we found my uncle alive. I wanted to tell him he could share my bed, not just then but now. Every night for the rest of my life.

  “Sawyer—” The words died on my lips when he turned to face me. “Do you—Do you want me to bring you some water so you can take a bath?”

  He grinned. “That sounds a
mazing.”

  I already had a pot heating on the stove, so all I had to do was pour it into the washbasin. My hands were trembling when I carried it through the house, so much that water sloshed out of the basin and splattered across my shirt. I barely noticed it though, I was still thinking about Sawyer and what I could do or say to make him stay with me.

  My brain was so focused on other things that when I reached Sawyer’s room I didn’t even consider knocking. I turned the knob and pushed the door open with my foot. It swung wide, slamming into the wall and causing Sawyer to spin around to face me.

  He was only wearing boxers, which he just so happened to be in the middle of pulling down before I barged into his room. They were low, so low that very little was left to the imagination. My face heated up and I stumbled back just as he jerked the boxers up. I stuttered, trying to apologize but not being able to get even a single coherent word out. The water in the basin sloshed out, soaking me even more as I backed away. The front of my shirt was drenched and sticking to me like a second set of skin.

  “Lucy,” Sawyer called when I spun around, spilling even more water.

  “I’m sorry! Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”

  I hurried out, taking the basin with me. I couldn’t breathe. My face was hot and oddly enough it had spread to my body. The image of Sawyer somehow mashed together with the images I’d seen in my uncle’s magazine all those weeks ago, and suddenly a barrage of pictures were flipping through my head.

  By the time I’d made it out to the living room my shirt was drenched and there was almost no water left in the basin.