by K. M. Raya
“Shit,” whispers Wyatt, cocking his weapon. “We’re spotted, It’s now or never.”
“Hey! Who the fuck are you?!” comes the voice again. Following his shout, I hear the sounds of doors opening and footsteps pounding the pavement, coming closer and closer. Men rush out and around the buildings, and Dante opens fire.
I drop to the dirt, immediately firing my pistol into the oncoming group of trapper men who flood the parking lot. There’s yelling and cursing and the spray of bullets flying. From the corner of my eye I see the girls run into the open, providing cover so we can move.
I take out four men in succession, each one of them with a head or gut shot before moving onto the next. We need to get to that building before Mac removes her. If he knows we’re here, it might just expedite her death. We’ve already fucked this up. We weren't careful enough, and now the time for games is over.
I make eye contact with Wyatt and sprint towards the building while the girls cover me. Bodies litter the ground and I have to leap over them. There’s only about a dozen trappers, but in the darkness it might as well be twenty or thirty. Still, I have one, singular focus. Wyatt and I keep running, hands fumbling in our pockets as we pull the bombs from them, struggling at first, but we can’t do this delicately. This is extremely stupid, but it’s probably Helana’s only chance… I just hope she’s not sitting anywhere near the wall.
“Now!” I shout at the guys, but Dante’s too busy grappling with a man on the asphalt to help. The girls are handling their own and it looks like there are only four men left alive, unless there are more inside. Still, I don’t see any sign of Mac. That can’t mean anything good.
“Wyatt, now!” Lighting a fast, I hurl the pipe bomb towards the wall and it explodes in a cloud of rock and dust, and Wyatt does the same with a similar result. Still, it’s not enough to bring the wall down.
I’m pulling the next bomb out of my pocket, when I hear possibly the worst, most absolutely chilling sound I’ve ever heard. A woman’s wailing scream coming from the other side of the wall. The sound is so loud that I scream too, unable to contain the fury coursing through me. I have no idea what’s happening to her in there, but I need this wall gone, right fucking now.
I lob another pipe bomb and this time, the explosion takes out the corner of the wall, creating a rough hole the size of a small car. Dante runs up, covered head to toe in another man’s blood, but he doesn’t hesitate to add to the chaos. His bomb explodes against it, and finally, the brick and cement come crumbling down. Dust billows, but I can barely make out the shapes inside.
When it clears, my eyes widen and a scream is trapped in my throat at what I find there. “Helana, no!” Wyatt screams in crazed desperation. Inside, a chainlink kennel fence has been toppled, and there, kneeling on the cement floor is Helana with that fucking pistol pointed towards the ceiling, but only inches from side of her face. She’s staring at the ceiling with wide eyes, and when I follow her gaze, I feel my whole body lock up and my heart drop to my toes. I feel like puking.
There’s a bullet hole in the concrete just above her head, and her fingers shake around the pistol. “Helana…” I start to say, but a zom crashes into the side of me, knocking me into a wall. I’m running on autopilot by now, so I turn, stabbing the fucker through its head while the guys take out the others in quick succession. All the while I move closer to my girl. She lowers her chin, frightened, wild eyes locked on me as if she can’t even comprehend the fact that I’m here. Then, she looks down at the smoking gun in her hands and jerks violently, letting it clatter to the ground. Helana scrambles back, feet dragging across the floor until her back hits the wall.
“We gotta get her out of here, man,” Dante shouts just as the last of the zoms falls dead at his feet. His eyes turn to Hell and soften, but he looks at her like he’s terrified for her, and frankly so am I. I know what that pistol means to her. I know what she tried to do, and I know she wouldn’t have done it if she thought she had any other option.
I scoop her up in my arms, and she’s light as a feather. I whisper in her ear that I’ve got her, and that she’s safe now. Over and over again I run my lips over her hair as tears run over my cheeks. But from behind me, a door slams open, and when I turn, a man with a gas mask and that fucking cowboy hat stares back with his pistol drawn and pointed right at Helana.
Fury rolls through me, and I pass Helana to Wyatt. He takes her, but he still tries to call out to me before I turn away. I ignore my friend, knowing he’ll do what needs to be done and get her back to the car, but I need to take care of this fucker. Mac shoots once and it goes wide. Wyatt leaps out of the way, turning around and rushing off into the dark with Helana in his arms. Dante looks like he’s torn. “Just go!” I shout at him.
Mac’s gun is aimed at me now, and a slow smirk spreads to my lips when I see the slight tremor in his hands. I don’t say a word as I walk towards him slowly. This fucker tried to hurt the woman that means the world to me. He tried to take away the one good thing in my life for fucking sport. He’s a menace, a vile insect that needs to be squished once and for all. He backs up, shoulders under that white blazer hitting the wall and I smile wider. All his men are dead and it's just the two of us.
Three paces away and he pulls the trigger again. I can’t help but wince, but to my surprise the blast never comes. Empty. Fucker brought an empty chamber to a gunfight. Cocky asshole. His watery eyes widen as I smirk. He’s shaking and cowering into a corner like a child. A wet spot forms on the front of his white pants and disgust curdles my stomach.
I turn on my heel then, heading towards the opening we blasted in the wall, my back to Mac, knowing he won’t do a damn thing. I hear him loose a long breath, but as I reach the edge of the room, I reach in my pocket and pull out my last pipe bomb. Lighting it, I don’t even look behind me as I toss it over my shoulder.
The explosion that follows is fucking satisfying.
Chapter ☣ 29
Hell
Tears are streaming down my face as we shoot down the streets of this small town, away from the burning pile of rubble we left behind. My shoulder burns, and my mind is spinning, but Alex has yet to loosen his strong arms.
We’re in the back seat, and he’s wrapped around me like a human shield. My shoulder has stopped bleeding, having clotted back when I was trapped in that kennel, but I know I need to tend to it immediately before it gets infected. Still, I can’t focus on much of anything right now. Alex’s arms feel too damn good, so I find myself burrowing my face into his chest. Internally, I’m cringing. I know he hates me, and probably doesn’t want me touching him, much less cuddling him, but I need it.
I need to feel his presence all around me. It warms the cold that has spread through my limbs. I can still feel the phantom chill of that barrel beneath my chin. My finger still twitches as if resting on that trigger once more. The feel of that bullet grazing my hair as my head jerked to the side from that blast to the wall has me wanting to puke. I was only a breath away from snuffing it all out in a single moment. If they hadn’t burst through that wall, I would have done it right. Shame washes over me. I feel like a coward. I could have tried to fight my way through that small horde, but fear overtook me. I was so fucking afraid of being torn apart alive that I was willing to commit suicide… willing to commit the ultimate sin against myself.
My whole body is suddenly wracked with shivers and shakes. It’s uncontrollable, and I can hardly breathe. I think it’s called shock or something. Back in the military, I’d seen it happen to men more times than I can count. It usually happened the first time you ever took a human life. Everyone goes into the military thinking they’re some big, tough man who can Rambo their way through a battlefield, but the moment their bullet takes a life, it’s like everything suddenly becomes real. I’ve seen grown men on the ground, shaking and crying until their buddies had to physically carry them away from the front lines.
That’s how I feel right now. Adrenaline crashes ove
r me in waves, and my body can’t seem to contain it. Sobs flow out of me for the first time in years. It’s been so pent up that it comes out uncontrollably violent. I’m soaking Alex’s shirt, and I’m surprised he isn’t pushing me away. My hands clutch his shirt, twisting the fabric in my fingers, when I feel hands sifting through my hair. Fingers run along my scalp repeatedly, and an arm tightens me further into his chest. Shock ripples through me. Is Alex… comforting me?
“Shhh,” he whispers, warm breath brushing over my hair. “You’re safe now, baby…”
My heart beats wildly, thumping away like I just ran a marathon. Did Alex just call me baby? Alex… who hates my guts, who blames me for everything, and who’s asked me to leave time and time again. He’s caressing me softly, brushing his hands through my tangles and calming me down. It works, too. Much to my surprise. His soft, deep voice evens out my breathing and calms my shaking limbs. He’s still murmuring, but I can no longer make out his words. My eyes grow impossibly heavy as I drift off to sleep.
☣
Water sloshes down my body, red rivulets trailing over my pale skin until swirling down the drain, leaving me raw and bare.
The wound in my shoulder pulses, but it feels amazing to clean it out and wash away the grime. My forehead is pressed up against the tiled wall, and I stare down at my feet, trying to take in deep breaths of steamy air. My long hair falls limp over my shoulders, once again a bright white blonde instead of caked in matted, brown blood and dirt. I feel loads cleaner, but for some reason I can’t bring myself to leave this shower. Once I leave, I’ll have to face it all again. Once again it’ll all be real.
They saw me. I shudder violently, on the cusp of another sob. They saw me there on my knees with that gun beneath my chin. Alex, Wyatt and Dante saw my shame and my cowardice as that bullet hit the ceiling instead of my skull. What will they think of me now that they know? Embarrassment fills me, and my chest burns along with my cheeks. My fingers dig into the tile before I make a fist and slam it against the wall, the noise reverberating through the locker room.
The others probably can’t hear it, because they’re reinforcing the entrance that the trappers blew open. The front glass doors had been shattered, but the secondary doors remained intact. Right now, they’re hanging a massive tarp over the front entrance, sealing it up so that none of the noxious fog can leak through. I should be helping them. But I’m not. I’m here in this shower for going on forty-five minutes, wallowing in my own self pity.
I feel like a fucking failure, and I know it’s childish. After all I’ve lived through and how many hordes me and my girls have grappled with… this one hit differently. This one felt like the last. The last of everything. And I thought I was ready for it. I was so wrong. You’ll never be ready for the end. No matter how much you psych yourself out and come to terms with it. When you’re down to the wire, you get desperate.
There’s a loud bang that fills the locker room. My whole body tenses, but I don’t bother to turn the water off. I just stand here with my head bowed against the wall. Heavy boot steps sound over the concrete. I already know who it is. I’ve been expecting him for a while now. My whole entire being is on high alert, though from the outside I probably seem pretty vacant. But as he gets closer to the shower, it’s like my soul comes alive and I hate that he has that power over me. Yet still, the shame that fills me to the brim is all consuming.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask, my voice echoing through the silence. I can feel his eyes on my back, and for some reason I’m unashamed of my own nakedness or my scars on display.
He’s silent for a few moments, and for a second I wonder if he’s going to talk at all, or he just wants to unnerve me even more. It wouldn’t surprise me. It’s what he’s good at. I’ve never met someone who irks me the way he does. But he speaks, and his voice is gruff and filled with something unidentifiable. “You know what,” he says.
“If you’ve come to gloat, you can save your breath. I already feel like shit enough for one day.”
He steps closer to the open shower stall. Any closer and he’ll be inside with me. “That’s not why I’m here, and I think you know that. We need to talk.”
Breathing in deeply, I take my time letting out that breath, the action is harder than it should be. Everything is tight and wound up, my neck hurts and my shoulder wound stings. “What’s there to talk about? Haven’t we said it all already?” Rolling my shoulders, I blink through the water cascading over my eyes. “I can’t do this with you right now, Alex.”
“Then don’t,” he says quietly. “Just tell me why you did it and I’ll leave you alone.” My whole body locks up, and my heart stutters. I keep quiet, unable to answer. “Helana, tell me. Why did you take that bullet for me?”
Still, I can’t find the words I need. Why did I take that bullet for him? Why? The reasons aren’t so black and white. Why did I run faster than I’ve ever run in my life when I saw that gun aimed at Alex? Why did my brain shut off everything else around me? And why did I not hesitate to fling myself in front of his body? And when the bullet sank in, why had I only felt relief?
“I need to know,” he grits. His voice shakes, and if I didn’t know better, he sounds on the verge of tears. But I do know better. That’s not the Alex I know at all. “I need to know why you would sacrifice yourself for me. Are you stupid, is that it?” he asks. His words aren’t meant to offend me, though… not this time. “Because I can’t think of a single reason you would put yourself in danger like that. Not for me, when I’ve been nothing by a dick to you since we met.” His voice is getting louder, and I can’t tell if it’s in anger, frustration or… passion. Maybe all three. “Look at me right the fuck now and tell me why!”
Whipping around, my long hair flies over my shoulder, slapping my back as waves of water run over my face, mixing with my tears so that Alex can’t see. His eyes are blazing brighter than I’ve ever seen them, and he’s utterly soaked to the bone. Fully dressed, water plasters his clothing to his skin, and his black hair drips on his shoulders as he stares me down. I don’t know how I didn’t realize he’d stepped inside the shower with me, but here he is. Inches away from my naked flesh.
Goosebumps race over my body, fire igniting in my thighs as my nipples pucker. Water drips off of his full, wide lips that are currently stretched into a grim line. The plains of his muscular chest are all too visible, and I can almost pick out every hard line of his body through the soaked fabric. His chest heaves, and despite the steam swirling all around us, I can still smell his campfire scent. It invades my every sense, and fills me with aching longing.
“You know why…” I whisper. He can probably barely hear me over the spray of the water. “Do you have to make me say it? Are you that much of an asshole?” His ice blue eyes blaze as they run over my face, seemingly unable to focus on one thing at a time. “I saved you because I had no other choice,” I finally admit, biting the bullet and just being honest for once. “When I thought you were going to die, everything else just faded away. It’s like I couldn't control it, Alex.” My chest heaves and words clog in my throat.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I care about you, you fucking jerk! I care about you more than I should after the way you treated me. You… with your stupid face and those dumb eyes and those ridiculous lips… I hate your hair and your glares and I especially hate the way you see right through me and don’t give a single shit. I hate that I feel like this about you of all people, like I can't breathe without you here. I hate that you look at me like you can’t stand me, and I hate knowing that eventually, I’ll have to leave you behind.”
His eyes widen, and his jaw goes slack, but I keep going, unable to stop now that I’m on a roll. “I must be the dumbest fucking woman in the world, but I can’t help the way I feel. If I had to do it all over again, I’d jump in front of a hundred bullets. I’d do it for you…”
His lips
crash into mine as his big hands wrap around the sides of my face, squeezing me there between his hot palms. My back hits the wall hard, knocking the air out me. He bites and he sucks and he licks until I’m opening up to him, allowing him to press into me. His hands move in a frenzy, tracing down the sides of my neck, my breasts, my hips… He moves like he doesn’t know where to touch first.
I can’t get enough of him. The rough scratch of his clothing makes me moan as my nipples harden even more. Every inch of my skin is on fire. One of his hands holds my waist, while the other reaches back up, palm skimming my bare stomach. He moans into my mouth when his fingers reach my nipple and his palm fills with soft flesh. I can feel his hardness through his thick pants. It must be painful for him, but he presses into me, pushing me into the wall while he devours my lips. I can barely breathe, but I don’t care. He tastes so good I can barely stand it. I’m shaking all over and every time his hips thrust forward, sharp waves of heat flood my core.
He rips his lips from mine, eyes blazing as they bounce between my swollen lips and my eyes. I’m captivated by the utter worship I see staring back at me. The urgency, the openness. I don’t recognize this Alex. This man is so full of passion that it bleeds out of his pores. He’s looking at me like I mean something to him. Like I’ve always meant something to him, and I hope to God I’m not the only one who feels this way.
His hand leaves my breast and his fingers come up to lace in my wet hair. “Don’t you ever do something like that again,” he demands before kissing me again swiftly and hard enough to sting. “Don’t you do that to me again, Helana.” His hand palms my chin, holding my face in place. Water falls between us as we both heave in breath after heavy breath. “Promise me…”
“I can’t promise that,” I pant, hips moving up and down, needing to feel him between my legs. “I…”
