Apocalypse Assassins: The Complete Series

by D. Laine

  The biggest disadvantage of walking through the mountains was the unfavorable weather. The trifecta of a North American fall, high elevations, and an atmosphere full of ash made it astonishingly cold. The thick winter coats and sturdy hiking boots we each salvaged from an abandoned home last week had come in handy.

  That was the last house we had seen, and the last time I slept on something besides cold, hard ground. As the orange halo that filtered through the thick curtain of ash crept closer to the horizon, signaling the approach of another bitter night, I worried that we were in store for yet another restless attempt at sleep.

  Assuming we lived to see nightfall.

  “Anyone see that?” Dylan, the other half of that whirlwind romance, called from his position near the head of the group.

  I tensed instantly. My finger flexed over the trigger of the gun in my hand as I scanned the shadows that hid amongst the falling ash for movement. Tags moved fast. I had learned that the hard way when my infected parents attacked us and nearly killed Dylan. I had been reminded of it often enough since then to know I will never forget.

  “What is it, Dylan?” Jake Walker asked from over my shoulder. His heavy boots bumped into mine from the back, and I resisted the urge to pull away from him. He was my twin brother, after all. Even if I had just met him two weeks ago, he was technically my blood.

  I assumed he wouldn’t always feel like a stranger to me. For now, he was merely a travel companion, and someone who knew how to shoot a gun into a mob of hungry monsters with deadly precision.

  “Looks like a house,” Dylan responded.

  Jake urged me forward until we were both standing alongside Dylan and my friend David Banks. One was dark and dangerous from head to toe, with enough firepower and sharp steel on his body to give any tag or vessel we encountered pause. The other held the weapon in his hand with visible unease as he shifted to stand by my side.

  David’s crash course in shooting a gun two weeks ago had gone about as well as I expected. Though he carried a handgun, his weapon of choice was the long-blade dagger strapped to his hip—okay for self-defense in the event that a tag got through the firepower laid down by the rest of us. Hadn’t happened yet. Hopefully it never happened.

  Giving David’s cold fingers a friendly squeeze, I peered in the direction Dylan indicated. A large, box-shaped shadow loomed not far away. We were probably standing in the owner’s backyard. The problem was we couldn’t clearly see more than ten feet in front of us when the ash fell at its heaviest. Sometimes we got lucky and could see a little farther. Shadows like this were always a mystery until we got close enough.

  “Let’s scope it out,” Jake suggested. “It’s going to be dark soon.”

  “Darker,” I muttered.

  As if walking through the ash during the day wasn’t difficult enough, night was exceptionally tricky. We had learned early on not to risk moving with next-to-zero visibility.

  That night, I had killed my first tag.

  I was exceptionally cautious, always fearful of the demon-created monsters, as I fell in line behind Jake and David. They led the way toward the house-shaped shadow. Dylan settled in behind me, but I didn’t acknowledge him.

  In stark contrast to the fiery start of our short-lived fling, I was prone to giving him the cold shoulder now. Whatever had started between us was fractured by the mountain of lies he had told me since his sudden appearance in my life last month. I got why he had lied to me. That was what he did—what he had to do in his line of work as an assassin of the things that go bump in the night.

  What bothered me was that I didn’t know which Dylan I had gotten to know over those exciting few weeks. Had he been genuine? Or had he used me to get close to Kyle Davenport—my ex, who happened to have been a vessel capable of hosting a demon? Had the feelings I thought Dylan developed for me been a ruse? Or had they been as real as mine?

  With so much uncertainty between us now, I insisted on keeping my distance from him. At least until I figured out a resolution to the flood of internal conflicts floating around in my head. Besides, resolving my issues with Dylan definitely wasn’t as big of a priority as survival at the moment.

  I whipped around at the sound of a low snorting noise to my right. Dylan nearly took me out with nothing more than his own body weight. In the process of steadying me, he dropped two guns on the ground.

  “You alright?” he asked me.

  “What was that?” My gaze fixed on the shadow I could now see moving nearby. Like a ghost wandering between walls, it disappeared before materializing again. Closer.

  “Calm down, Tiger.” Dylan sounded like he was holding back a laugh, and I equally wanted to smack him and hug him—because if he was laughing, I had nothing to worry about. With gentle pressure, he forced my gun-yielding arm to my side. “It’s just a horse.”

  “A horse? How do you know that?” I gaped at his back as he left my side and wandered in the direction of the moving shadow.

  The darkness swallowed him up, and I was all alone. I followed tentatively, my finger flexing over the trigger of my gun, until the large animal materialized in front of me. I watched as Dylan brushed a hand over its ash-covered snout.

  “He’s going to die in there,” Dylan murmured.

  He drifted away as I stepped up to the fence separating me from the animal. Its wide, pleading eyes followed me.

  “Hey, boy,” I cooed. “You sure do have a lot of ash on you. Or are you a girl? I can’t tell.”

  I shook the horse’s mane, dispersing a thick cloud of gray powder. The animal’s snout nudged my arm as if encouraging me to continue. I used both hands to wipe the ash from its long neck. I took special care in clearing the thick black soot from its face. For a brief moment, I forgot my own fears and worries.

  I jumped when a loud clattering noise sounded nearby. Backing away from the horse, I reached for my weapon.

  “Dylan?”

  “This way,” he called, directing me toward him in the blanketing darkness. “Bring the horse with you.”

  Another voice sliced through the wall of suffocating ash—Jake. “Are the two of you about done over there?”

  I looked around frantically. I couldn’t see either of them, or David. Just the horse, snorting softly over my shoulder. I followed the sound of Dylan’s voice as he answered Jake.

  “Just waiting for Thea.”

  “You let her out of your sight?” Jake sounded closer. And pissed.

  “Nah, man. I see her.”

  He had to be lying, because I didn’t see anybody. But my ears told me I was getting closer. Then he appeared in front of me, sporting a broad grin as if the chaos that surrounded us didn’t faze him one bit.

  “There you are. You had me worried for a minute,” he whispered.

  My mouth dropped open to ask what he was doing. Then I saw the answer with my own eyes. Behind him, a metallic gate had been swung open. The horse galloped through the opening like he glimpsed a finish line somewhere in the distance.

  “Uh, guys,” Jake grunted. “Why did I almost get run over by a horse?”

  Dylan’s grin broadened, but he didn’t answer Jake. To me, he said, “He’ll have a chance in the wild.”

  “Think he’ll make it?”

  All signs of amusement vanished from Dylan’s face. His eyes held mine. “It might be a little tricky at first, but I think it will work out in the end.”

  Dylan had this clever way of lacing an ordinary conversation with double meanings. He was doing it now.

  My spine stiffened as I returned his gaze. “He has a long way to go to get out of this shit.”

  Dylan’s lips twitched. “At least he ran in the right direction. He’s off to a good start.”

  I huffed and peered over Dylan’s shoulder as if I could see the horse galloping away. “He’s still running blind.”

  “Nah.” Dylan finally smiled that brilliant, flirty, lopsided smile that tripped up my feeble heart. “He can see what’s directly in front of him.
That’s all that matters.”

  I had no reply to that, and by the size of his smile, Dylan knew it. Fortunately, Jake and David broke up the hidden-meanings exchange between us before I let those ornery eyes and delicious-looking lips affect me more than they already had.

  “You two planning to join us, or are you going to hang out here all night?” Jake stopped several paces behind Dylan, and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “I can see the house. It doesn’t look like anybody’s home.”

  “Then let’s go.” I gave Dylan a wide berth as I stepped around him.

  Brushing past Jake, I fell into step beside David. The two seasoned assassins followed closely behind us—close enough that I could hear them whispering to each other, but far enough that I couldn’t make out the details of their exchange.

  Something about me, I was sure of that. I had caught them whispering about me like a couple of middle school girls a few times now. I didn’t think Jake was all that thrilled about what had happened between Dylan and me, but he hadn’t made any forbidding demands either.

  At times, I wished he would pull his twin brother card, if only to give me more time to figure out my unresolved issues with Dylan.

  Nights were the hardest—when I was cold and tired and in need of a solid body to keep me warm and safe. Though he had kept a respectable distance so far, Dylan found ways to let me know he was there. Patient. Always waiting. With another bitter evening quickly approaching, I felt myself weakening to the possibility of seeking him out. Especially after he pulled that double-meanings bullshit that almost made me swoon.

  Almost. My stubborn pride had historically won out every other time my vulnerability tangled with Dylan’s presence. This time would be no different.

  My resolve only strengthened when I realized tonight would not be as bad as most. Stepping inside the abandoned house, I sucked in a breath of clean air. With growing optimism, I took in the unobstructed view of a sprawling living room with a large, fluffy couch. Along one wall, a wide stone mantle rose above a large fireplace. The high ceiling rose all the way to the second story of the house. A balcony overlooked the room from above. Just visible through a doorway in the adjacent wall was a kitchen.

  “Think they have food?” David asked from behind me. He practically licked his lips at the thought.

  I shouldered my backpack off and wiped at the ash that had gathered on my coat, tossing it to the floor in the entryway like I had just come inside from playing in the snow. “I don’t know, but I volunteer to go find out.”

  “Take your gun with you,” Jake told me. “Gather anything edible. Dylan, David, and I will secure the house for the night.”

  This had become our routine—the rare times we had found a decent shelter with doors and windows. Tags could just as easily hide in sheds and empty garages as we could, and we never knew when we might encounter a vessel. Though we had yet to be surprised by either once we were settled for the evening, we were always cautious of unwanted visitors.

  I kept my coat on as I wandered toward the kitchen. While not as cold as it was outside, the house still held a chill. It felt empty and reeked of abandonment. My senses told me we were alone, but I kept my finger on the trigger as I entered the kitchen.

  My shoulders slumped when I saw the condition it had been left in. Stale potato chips and empty cereal boxes littered the counters. Peering into one of the open cabinets, I confirmed that most of its contents had already been raided. Whoever lived here had left in a hurry, with as much food as they could take.

  Along the back wall, a wide window rose above the sink. Whatever impressive view the owners once had was now blocked by the thick ash falling outside. To the right, a sliding glass door led to a deck covered in the gray muck. I approached the door cautiously, trapping the air in my lungs when I reached out to tug on the handle.

  My breath rushed out when the lock held. Reassured I wouldn’t be blindsided by any vessels or tags, I turned to survey the rest of the kitchen for something to scavenge. My gaze landed on a dark figure looming a few steps away. My hand flew to my chest and I nearly jumped out of my boots.

  “Shit, Dylan,” I heaved. “You forget I have a gun? Don’t creep up on me like that unless you want to get shot.”

  “Just making sure you’re alright in here,” he responded. “I assume that door is locked?”

  “Yes, it’s locked.”

  He gawked at the broad window with squinted eyes. “No blinds to pull?”

  “When you have a view like the one they used to have, why would you want to block it out?”

  “Good point.” He turned to sweep a gaze over the mess left on the counters. “Find anything to eat?”

  “Haven’t had a chance to look yet.”

  Dylan shrugged off my tart tone. I wordlessly brushed by him to open a door I assumed led to a pantry. Ideally, a fully stocked pantry.

  “I’m giving you two minutes.” Dylan backed away, a smirk audible in his voice.

  I peered over my shoulder as he ducked through the doorway. “For what?” I called after him.

  His head popped back into the room briefly. “To feed me.”

  “You’re such an ass,” I scoffed.

  He shrugged before turning away. With two long blades crisscrossed over his back and a double-barrel shotgun in his hand, he had the whole intimidation thing down. And that was only the weapons I could see. I knew more were hidden on his body under the thick coat. He was fierce, but I refused to back down from him. Or follow orders.

  “I’m insufferable when I’m hungry,” he called over his shoulder. The hint of amusement in his voice made me shake my head.

  He was such an enigma. But he had a point. I was hungry, too.

  Once Dylan was gone, I raided the kitchen with nothing but food on my mind. By the time I finished checking the pantry and all the cabinets, I had collected two cans of chicken noodle soup, one family-sized can of chili, some chocolate bars, half a loaf of questionable bread, a handful of rubbery potato chips, and half a box of stale cereal.

  Once again, cold canned food topped the list of our limited menu. Unfortunately, I was used to eating it by now. But this time, we had the added luxury of using an actual can opener to get our food—as opposed to a sharp knife that may or may not have been once used to kill someone or something—and bowls and spoons to eat it with.

  When I left the kitchen, carrying the spread into the main room to share with the others, my senses sprang to life, cluing me in to the welcome surprise that awaited me.

  The smell hit me first. Then the sound of popping wood. I stepped into a wall of heat that warmed my chilled face. My gaze swung toward the far side of the room as Jake added a log to the fireplace.

  “You’re kidding me,” I muttered.

  His smile was infectious when he looked up to find me tiptoeing toward the fire, as if I feared any sudden movements might scare it away. “We get to live extravagantly tonight.”

  “Nice.” I set the smorgasbord of food onto the large round table in the center of the room and shrugged out of my coat. I carefully draped it over the back of a nearby chair—close enough to grab quickly in an emergency. My gun stayed with me, as always.

  “Anything good in the kitchen?” Jake wondered.

  “Looks like the owners raided it before they left,” I explained as Jake bent down to inspect what I found.

  “At least we can heat the soup and chili this time.” He plucked up the can opener with a grin. “We need to take this with us.”

  “Maybe the bowls, too,” I suggested. “If we have room to fit them in our bags.”

  He nodded enthusiastically as he punctured the can of chili. “Funny how the little things like can openers and silverware can make you so happy now.”

  I stared at the back of his head while he poured the chili into a bowl. His words were so close to my earlier thoughts that I struggled to form a response. Not to mention, this was probably the most Jake and I had spoken to each other since we left the shelter
. We were truly alone for the first time in weeks.

  So many things remained unspoken between us. So many things needed to be discussed. I had so many questions, and he held many of the answers. But I wasn’t ready yet.

  I shifted my feet, suddenly fearful that he might use this opportunity to open the box of worms I had sealed up tightly then shoved under the hypothetical bed to be ignored for as long as possible.

  Anticipation gripped my shoulders when his mouth opened to speak.

  “They didn’t happen to leave behind any bottled water, did they?”

  The question wasn’t what I expected, or feared. Though easy to answer, my brain was too scrambled by anxiety to form a reply. I hesitated long enough that Jake turned to look at me.

  His brow furrowed with concern. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I shook my head rapidly to clear all thoughts of deep, meaningful, heart-to-heart conversations yet to come. “Umm, no. There wasn’t any water.”

  “Think again.”

  I looked up at the sound of Dylan’s voice as he and David emerged from the back of the house. They each carried buckets in their hands, and shared matching grins.

  “What do you mean by that?” I wondered.

  “That this place is about as close to a five-star resort as we’re going to get.”

  I still had no idea what Dylan was talking about.

  “What did you find?” Jake asked.

  David lifted the bucket in his hand, splashing a bit of water onto the floor, while Dylan answered, “They have a well.”

  It finally hit me. “Clean water,” I murmured. It seemed too good to be true—though I could see it with my own eyes.

  “Enough water for each of us to drink our fill and wash up with.” Dylan handed the dripping buckets to Jake, who then placed them near the fire.

  Warm food and water—two luxuries I had always taken for granted.

  “There’s some fruity smelling soap in the bathroom back there.” I glanced away from the flickering flames warming the evening’s surprise treats to find Dylan’s eyes on me. “Smelled like coconut,” he added quietly, just for my ears.