by Brant, Jason
And an axe.
She plucked it from the floor and inspected it. It wasn’t double-sided the way she preferred, but the lone blade appeared sharpened and ready to go. Rust covered most of the metal head, save for the edge, which gleamed as she rotated it around. It had a yellow handle with worn, black electrical tape wrapped around the bottom to increase grip. To her, it looked like a typical axe used for chopping firewood.
“What are you going to do with that?” Charlie asked. “Cut down a freaking tree?”
“I’m going to kick some Vladdie ass with it.” Cass let the handle slide through her hand until she gripped the middle of it. When they landed, she needed the weight of the axe centered so she could sprint for the truck.
One of the infected wailed from the front of the vehicle, so close Cass flinched in surprise. She watched as Lance faltered on the bed, his knees threatening to buckle. Eifort almost collapsed beside the truck.
The head of a beast appeared above the roof as the truck rocked under its weight.
As its lament died in its throat, Lance executed it.
Cass blew out the breath she didn’t know she’d held.
“Hold on!” Bill guided them onto the boat ramp without slowing down, the bottom of the vessel scraping along the cement as they slid out of the water. The metal construction squealed against the concrete.
Before they’d even stopped, Cass hopped off the side and sprinted the rest of the way up the ramp. Charlie hadn’t moved yet, her shoulders hunched, head low as if hiding behind the bow of the boat would protect her from the monsters bearing down on them.
A Vladdie lunged beside the truck, ducking underneath Lance’s fire. Bullets ricocheted by its feet as it slammed against the passenger side door, shifting the weight of the entire truck, almost lifting two tires off the ground. The back doors, which had stood open, snapped closed from the impact.
Lance nearly lost his footing from the swaying motion of the truck.
Someone inside the vehicle screamed as the Vladdie stood on its hind legs, reaching for the window.
The muscles in Cass’s legs strained as she dashed up the ramp. She’d kept herself in exceptional shape over the years, but sprinting uphill would gas anyone.
Lance regained his shooter’s stance, aiming over the roof of the truck at the Vladdie.
His gun clicked empty. He hollered, “Shit!” and flipped the rifle in his grip to bash at the beast with the stock.
Cass reached the rear of the truck, adjusted her grip on the axe, and pulled it back over her shoulder. The Vladdie reached in through the window. Whoever sat inside cried out in pain as the vampire raked its claws against their chest.
A battle cry escaped Cass’ lips as she swung the axe with every ounce of strength she could muster. The blade sank deep into the back of the Vladdie’s neck, wedging into the corded muscle and spinal cord.
The vampire collapsed to the pavement without making a sound, all the strength and life instantly drained from its massive body. Its momentum pulled Cass forward as she struggled to hold onto the handle of the trapped axe. The corpse came to rest in a jumble on its side, the handle jutting straight into the air.
Blood gouted from its neck as she put her foot on its shoulder and ripped the weapon free.
Cass stood over it for a second, taking in the fur and dried-out flesh covering its back and arms. “What the hell?”
A pain-ridden moan pulled Cass’s eyes from the disgusting sight of the vampire. She turned to see a teenage boy sitting in the front seat of the truck, his face pale and sweaty. His hands pressed against a torn t-shirt. He had deep furrows in the skin on his chest. Blood already soaked through his shirt.
“Sassy, get in the truck!” Bending, Lance shoved a hand through an open window in the back of the cab. “Greg, mag!”
Cass saw Greg sitting in the back, rummaging through something on the floor she couldn’t see. He slid a magazine into Lance’s hand before turning and catching Cass’ gaze. His expression fell, and he eyed the floor rather than greet her with a customary bro.
Something’s happened, Cass thought. Something terrible.
Grabbing the handle of the rear door beside Greg, she tore it open and peered inside. No one else was hiding on the floorboards. Lance, Megan, and Greg were all accounted for.
Adam was not.
Oh, God. She reached for Greg when another shriek, extremely close and pain-inducing, made her recoil and stare over the front of the truck again. Three more Vladdies closed in on them.
Lance worked a new magazine into his gun, then shot at them. “Move your ass,” he yelled at her between bursts of fire.
Charlie and Bill finally reached her, panting and panicked as they spotted the approaching vampires. Cass grabbed Bill’s bag from him and tossed it and her axe into the bed of the truck.
“Get in!” Cass shoved Charlie toward Greg as he slid to the other side of the bench seat. “Go, go!”
Bill didn’t need to be pushed, scrambling in after the teenage girl. All three squeezed into the backseat as Cass slammed the door closed and grabbed hold of the bed. She hauled herself over, scrambling to stand beside her husband.
“Get inside!” Lance shot one of the approaching vampires in the neck, sending it careening sideways into another Vladdie. They tripped each other, sprawling to the ground in a jumble of blood and limbs and mind-numbing laments.
“Not without you!” Cass cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted at Eifort. “Megan! Throw me the gun and get us the hell out of here!”
Eifort glanced over her shoulder, eyes rapidly inspecting the vehicle to make sure everyone was inside. She gave Cass a nod before standing and tossing the gun over the roof of the truck. Cass snagged it in midair, cutting her aim toward the beasts.
“Brandon?” Charlie cried from inside the cab. “Brandon?”
Cass didn’t hear the rest as she joined Lance in cutting down the final two Vladdies before them. That left only the group charging from the water’s edge. Husband and wife spun in unison, kneeling on the bed and sighting the onrushing monstrosities.
Megan hopped in behind the wheel, not bothering to close her door, and yanked the transmission into gear. Without another word, she floored the gas pedal. The truck lurched, jolting over the dead bodies of the Vladdies littering the pavement ahead. Both open doors slammed shut from the momentum.
Cass almost fell over, having to release one of her hands from the gun and grab hold of the side of the bed. They bounced over the bodies like they were speed bumps, each one lifting Lance and Cass off their knees, threatening to send them over the side of the truck.
Blood and shredded flesh sprayed the pavement as the tires spun across the dead and wounded.
The Vladdies from the shore stormed after them, closing the distance between them in a flash, bounding over their dead, crushed brethren. When the truck finally cleared the last of the bodies, they were able to gain traction.
A vampire exploded forward, thick legs uncoiling with immense power as it jumped the fifteen-foot gap between them with ease. It grabbed hold of the tailgate with both clawed hands, hauling itself half into the bed.
A fur-covered arm swiped at Cass, two talons slicing through her shirt and unzippering the skin on her shoulder. Pain and blood welled before Cass could even react to the blow. The beast swung the same arm back at her, the beefy hand connecting with her chest, sending her crashing to the bed.
Cass cracked her head off the metal floor. A black vignette encircled her vision, her body feeling loose and distant. The sounds of the battle hollowed and faded. Her grip on the gun loosened, the weapon bouncing away from her.
“No!” Lance reared back. Kicked the Vladdie square in the face.
Its head rocked backward, spittle arching through the air.
But it didn’t release its hold on the truck.
The vampire unhinged its jaw and roared.
Lance shot it through one of its empty eye sockets.
“Sassy!
” He dropped to a knee beside her, cradling the back of her head. “Talk to me.”
“Big bastard rung my bell.” Cass tried to sit up, failed, and gave it another go. With a grunt and a stab of pain at the base of her skull, she managed to rise to her hands and knees. The world swam around her.
“You’re bleeding.” Lance put his rifle down to press his hands against the gashes on her shoulder.
“Stop fussing, dumbass. I’m fine.” Cass blinked a few times as her vision refocused. Ignoring the throbbing in her skull, she gazed into her husband’s face. “I knew you were still alive.”
“It takes a lot more than a city full of vampires to take me out.” Lance gave her the same crooked grin she’d fallen in love with years ago. “A little problem like that couldn’t keep me from my lady.”
“Took you long enough to get here.” Cass grabbed the back of his head. Pulled him close. She breathed him in, sweat, stink, and all. “Now kiss me you fool, before something else happens.”
Lance did as he was told.
41
Brandon fought against the panic bubbling up in his throat as he peered, horrified, at the blood seeping from his chest. The demon had dug three trenches through his skin, the edges ragged and already swollen. He hadn’t felt any pain at first, the whole sensation of seeing and feeling the wound more like an out-of-body experience than anything else.
“It got me,” he managed to say as people climbed into the truck behind him.
Lance shouted instructions.
Gunfire continued.
Though he heard everything, Brandon barely processed what happened around him. Even as Megan climbed back into the truck and drove them away from the reservoir, he didn’t feel as if he were a part of the action anymore.
Until the pain kicked in.
Agony brought him back to the moment, clearing his mind and searing his nerve endings. He pressed both hands against his chest, attempting to stymie the crimson flow, but barely slowed it down. His shirt had already soaked through. The elastic band of his underwear did little to slow the stream as it drenched his legs and crotch.
“Brandon?” a small voice asked from behind him. “Brandon?!”
He vaguely recognized it, but his preoccupation with not bleeding to death kept him from paying too much attention. Warmth spread across the seat under him. He felt it running down his calves.
Hands grabbed the sides of his head, twisting his face to the left until he was staring into the backseat.
Charlie sat behind him, her big hazel eyes locked onto his. “You came for me!”
“I—”
She cut him off with a kiss.
Brandon continued talking through it for a second before his mind registered that the girl of his dreams had just kissed him. Her lips were warm and soft, gentle, yet eager.
Instead of kissing her back, he stiffened as he wondered if his breath stunk.
Or if he was bleeding on her.
She held the kiss for several seconds before releasing him to open her eyes. When she finally saw his oozing chest, she cried out. “You’re bleeding!”
Brandon wanted to tell her it was no big deal, to implore her to keep kissing him. Instead, he stammered a few half words and continued bleeding all over the place. If this was the end, then at least he’d finally kissed Charlie again. Kind of. He was more of a bystander in that moment, but still.
It had happened.
Some giant, handsome dude sat beside Charlie with a bag resting on his lap.
He had a rifle, but didn’t shoot out the window with it. Leaning closer, he inspected Brandon’s chest. “That doesn’t look too good, buddy.”
“Oh, that’s nothing.” Brandon glanced down at his wounds. He felt a little sleepy. “Just a few scratches.”
“Heads up!” Megan slammed the brakes and yanked the wheel, sending Brandon into the dash. He collapsed onto the floor in front of his seat, his chin clanging off his right knee. The clacking sound of his teeth slamming together resonated through his skull.
The agony that stretched across his chest woke him from his daze like a splash of icy water in the morning.
“Easy, bro,” Greg cried from the back. “You’re going to throw Lance and Cass off the back!”
“If I slow down, we’re all dead!” Megan gritted her teeth as the truck skidded onto a two-lane road. “Someone get pressure on the kid’s chest!”
Brandon was about to tell everyone he was fine when he saw how much blood covered his seat. Glancing at his clothes, he recoiled at how the red and pink stained everything.
No, he most definitely was not fine.
Charlie spilled onto the front seat, her small frame sliding over the console and twisting around until she faced him. Her hands stretched out, grabbing him under his armpits. “Come up here with me.”
“Okay,” he said with a doofy inflection in his voice.
He didn’t know if his brain was addled by the kiss, blood loss, or being tossed around the cabin like a ragdoll, but he definitely didn’t feel as if he were processing things correctly.
Reaching up, he grabbed hold of the seat and the dashboard, hauling himself off the floor with a grunt. He slid onto the seat beside Charlie, the blood there already cooling and squishing under his pants. Charlie got to her knees beside him, fumbling with the lever beside his chair.
The seat flopped back, bouncing off something behind them.
“Damn, bro,” Greg whimpered. “Watch my knees!”
“Sorry.” Charlie pulled the chair back to a steeper angle, taking the pressure off Greg.
Brandon stared up at her, taking in every detail he could. For months, he’d dreamt of this moment. Her beauty outshined even his brightest memory. Her fiery red hair, though oily and in need of a wash and a few hundred brushes, caught his attention as it always did. Strands of it hung in front of her porcelain skin.
She caught him staring at her.
“Glurb,” he said.
“Just relax, B.” Charlie grabbed a cloth the big man in the backseat handed her and pressed it against his chest. “I’ll take care of you.”
Glurb? Brandon thought. I could have said anything there, but all I came up with was freaking glurb?
What had he even tried to say?
He had no idea.
Their reunion hadn’t quite gone the way he’d intended.
In his wildest fantasies, he’d infiltrated the enemy camp like a thief in the night, stealing from shadow to shadow, prowling upon rooftops he’d ascended with his buttery-smooth parkour skills. He’d have smashed through a window, landing on the floor with an epic tuck and roll, finding Charlie tied up and held at gunpoint. After kicking the ass out of a handful of guards, he would have freed his love and swept her away.
They’d lived happily ever after at The Light, of course, playing video games and having lots of the s-e-x.
Instead, he was prone in the chair of a stolen pickup truck, bleeding all over himself with Charlie taking care of him.
Freaking glurb.
42
Lance attempted to tear the bottom of his t-shirt off, but failed miserably. Hulk Hogan always made it look so damned easy to rip shirts in half. Turned out fabric was incredibly tough, and the Hulkster possessed the strength of an ox… Or perhaps Lance couldn’t outmuscle a toddler.
He figured the truth probably sat somewhere in the middle.
Settling with taking his entire shirt off, he twisted it up and then tied it around Cass’ wounded shoulder. He cinched it tight, eliciting a grunt from his wife. The makeshift bandaging was much too large for the wound, but they didn’t have time for him to fashion something proper.
“How far ahead is everyone else?” Lance sat back against the wall of the bed, pulling his rifle across his lap.
Eifort had them hauling ass down a side road, hopefully heading for the highway. They’d pulled away from the pack of Vladdies chasing them from the reservoir, and they hadn’t seen another one for the past minute or two. Even t
hough the truck’s engine roared from Eifort running it hard, they could still hear the screams of the damned through the forest lining either side of the road.
“They left a few minutes before you picked us up. The way Megan is driving, we should catch up to them before too long.” Cass scooted to the front of the bed, leaning against the cab. Wind roared past them, making it hard to hear each other. The air had cooled as the night approached, making the back of the truck rather frigid.
Lance ignored the cold, watching as the wind blew Cass’ hair around.
Together, they’d spent the past few years trying to make a go of it in the shitty new world they found themselves in. They’d built a home, a family, a network of people they could trust. It had taken an enormous amount of hard work, blood, sweat, and tears. They’d survived while everyone else had perished.
And then they’d watched the entire thing crumble.
He’d almost lost her.
Almost lost his boy.
Now that he had her back, he intended to get their child, rally his friends, and start anew. Nothing would take his family from him again.
Nothing.
Lance peeked in through the rear window, spotted the teen girl straddling Brandon in the front seat. He did a double take before leaning forward to ensure he’d actually witnessed what it appeared to be.
The girl was indeed sitting across the kid’s lap.
Raising a hand, she moved to wipe the back of her wrist across her forehead.
Blood covered her hand.
“Oh no,” Lance said. “Something happened to the kid.”
“One of the Vladdies sliced his chest open.” Cass followed his gaze. “They were big cuts, but I don’t think they were deep enough to do any serious damage.”
“That’s a lot of blood.”
“Looks like Charlie is stopping it.”
“You mentioned her name on the radio.” Lance cocked an eyebrow at Cass. “Is that Brandon’s Charlie?”
“Wait, that’s Brandon?” Cass shook her head in surprise. “She told me about a boy she liked back at some place called The Light. That’s him?”
