Far Series | Book 2 | Far From Safe

by Mary, Kate L.

  “I’m an only child, too,” Devon said.

  Our eyes met, and he smiled.

  I paused before responding, waiting to see if Miller would jump in, but he remained quiet and focused on the task of filling our cart. At least he was helping out. That was something.

  “It made vacations kind of boring,” I continued. “I used to see these big families playing together on the beach or at zoos and get so jealous because it was usually just my parents and me. When I got older, though, I started taking a friend with me everywhere we went, and that helped.”

  My mind wandered to Mindy, my best friend since the age of seven. While I’d headed for warmer weather once I’d graduated, she’d stayed in Ohio and attended Kent State University. We’d still hung out on breaks and over the summer, but I hadn’t seen her in months, and weeks had gone by since the last time we talked. Thinking she was probably dead, that I’d never again hear her burst out laughing over something stupid, was like a knife to my gut.

  “You okay?” Devon asked, elbowing me.

  “Yeah. Just thinking about my friend…” I let the words trail off because I couldn’t bring myself to actually say what I’d been thinking.

  Devon gave me a sympathetic smile.

  “We never went on family vacations,” Miller said, “so we definitely weren’t the family you would have been looking at enviously.”

  His words shocked me speechless.

  It had never occurred to me that there might have been families who didn’t go on vacation. I’d known not everyone had parents who could afford to fly to Florida several times a year, but I’d thought people would at least drive places. Or go camping. I didn’t see the draw of sleeping on the ground in the cold or heat, but a lot of other people liked that kind of thing.

  “We didn’t either,” Devon said.

  “Oh,” I said, feeling suddenly stupid and sheltered and much more naïve than I wanted to admit.

  “My grandma did her best, but she wasn’t young, and she didn’t have a lot of money. My parents had life insurance, but she’d put that into an account for me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, automatically reaching out to touch his arm.

  His skin was warm against mine, and when our eyes met, the air between us sizzled.

  Miller must have sensed it, because he swore under his breath and started pushing his cart—a little too violently. “Let’s finish this so we can get out of here. The place smells like shit.”

  I dropped my hand and Devon grinned.

  “Come on,” he said, following Miller with his own cart.

  We hit a couple more aisles before reaching the paper goods, and I was more than a little disappointed to find the toilet paper shelves totally bare. Not even a single roll.

  “Someone was hoarding toilet paper,” I said, frowning at the empty shelf in front of me.

  “Crazy assholes. Of all the stupid shit to hoard, why toilet paper?” Miller grumbled.

  Devon let out a half-snort, half-laugh. “Well, at least we know the zombies stumbling down the street have clean asses.”

  “I wasn’t really thinking about their asses before,” I said with a groan, “but now I am.”

  Devon laughed again, this time louder, and I smiled up at him.

  We’d pretty much hit the end of the road, since the last section was nothing but refrigerators. I wasn’t sure how long the power had been out, but there was no way the milk and other dairy products would still be good, and I had no desire to see the cheese all green and moldy. I shuddered at the thought.

  There was one section I wanted to hit up before we joined the others, though.

  “Real fast,” I said, pushing my cart past the two men and turning the corner.

  The sickeningly sweet smell of rotting milk permeated the air, and I had to make a concentrated effort not to think about it when I breathed. Even inhaling through my mouth, some of the stench seemed to invade my nostrils. I could imagine the jugs of milk lined up in the refrigerators, the plastic swollen from the rancid liquid. At least it was too dark to see it. That was one good thing about the lack of electricity.

  I stopped in front of what I’d come for, moving the beam of my flashlight over the items in front of me. Candy. Gummies and chocolate and peppermints and a dozen other types, all waiting for someone to snatch them up. I was partial to dark chocolate myself, but since I’d come here with other people in mind, I grabbed a few packages of Hershey bars and tossed them into the car.

  “Chocolate?” Miller said from behind me. “Are you serious?”

  I didn’t bother looking his way. “It’s not for me.”

  When we’d first met Randall, he’d been on a mission to get chocolate for Lexi, but just in case Mike preferred something fruity, I threw some Starbursts into the cart. Then, since we didn’t have to pay and I didn’t know when we’d have the chance to go out again, I grabbed a few other things at random. Milk Duds, Sweet Tarts, gummy worms, and more chocolate—including some dark for me. Then I turned to face the guys.

  Miller still looked utterly perturbed, but Devon was smiling.

  He grabbed a big bag of Reese Pieces and put them in the car with the others. “My favorite.”

  “Good choice,” I said, returning his smile. Still hoping to get Miller to warm up to us, I turned to him. “What about you? Don’t you have a favorite?”

  He blinked like he hadn’t expected anyone to address him, but after a second, he moved. I watched him walk a few steps, shining his light on the candy before stopping so he could grab something. When he tossed a bag of Twizzlers into the cart, I smiled.

  “I wouldn’t have even thought to grab those.” I kept the smile on my face, hoping he would see it as a peace offering. Anything to make life more pleasant.

  “Ready to go now?” he asked, but there was less malice in his voice than before.

  I’d just nodded when something squeaked behind me.

  A low moan followed, and I spun around. A zombie was stumbling our way. Behind it were a set of double doors that must have led into a stockroom. They were on hinges, so they only had to be pushed open, and they were still swinging a little, telling me that was where the creature had been hiding.

  “Shit,” Miller said, swiping his bat up off the cart. “I knew we shouldn’t have fooled around with the fucking candy.”

  “Relax,” Devon replied, his voice level and unconcerned. “It’s only one.”

  He had a bat as well, and he stepped forward to meet the zombie as it stumbled toward us. This one had been a woman, and she wasn’t small. About a head taller than me, she had to outweigh me by more than a hundred and fifty pounds. She wore a red polo shirt with the store emblem on it, as well as a nametag, which announced to everyone that her name had been Maria. Why she’d been at work when she died was a mystery we’d never solve, and one that didn’t really matter. Whoever Maria had been, she was now a zombie who wanted to eat us, and that was pretty much all we needed to know about her.

  Devon swung the bat when he reached the dead woman. It slammed into her skull, sending her stumbling back, but she didn’t fall, and she didn’t stop. I’d known before this moment that trying to bash a zombie’s head in wouldn’t be easy, but watching Devon have to hit her not once, not twice, but three times, made me acutely aware of just how hard it was going to be for me. He was fit. He’d worked out constantly and had been into things like rock climbing and other outdoor activities, while I hadn’t lifted a weight in my life.

  There was no way I could ever rely on a bat.

  By the time the creature was on the floor and unmoving, Devon was panting.

  “Shit,” he said between breaths. “That was a hell of a lot harder than I’d thought it would be.”

  “I agree,” I said.

  He looked up, his mouth pulling into a frown like he was thinking the same things I’d just been. “We need more knives.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “Can we go now?” Miller snapped.


  Devon sighed and turned away from the zombie. “Yeah, Miller, we can go.”

  We pushed our carts back to the main aisle then headed toward the bobbing lights in the distance, finally finding Lisa and Kiaya in the middle of loading jugs of water onto the bottom racks of their carts.

  “I think we’re almost done here,” Lisa said.

  “Us, too,” I replied.

  Devon moved to where they were and grabbed a case of bottled water so he could shove it under his own cart, while I stepped back and eyed mine, trying to figure out how to cram more onto it. The air mattresses could be moved around a little to give me space.

  I knelt and shoved two of the boxes back, then tried to cram the third one on top of them. The box was a little too fat, but I was sure if I put enough effort into it, I’d be able to make it work. I wiggled and shoved and maneuvered and had just gained some ground when Miller swore.

  A moan followed. Then another.

  My head snapped up, my hand frozen in the middle of my task, and my stomach dropped at the sight in front of me. Four. There were four zombies headed our way. Where the hell had they come from? Had they been in the store this whole time and just now found us, or had they wandered in through the open front doors?

  “Rowan.” Devon grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet, shoving me behind him. “Back.”

  I stumbled a little but managed to maintain my balance, then pulled my knife.

  Devon and Miller stood between the zombies and Lisa, Kiaya, and me. It was strange to see the corporal preparing to square off against the dead since he’d rarely put himself in danger, but I had a feeling it had more to do with him wanting to get out of here with his hide intact than being a hero. He had his bat up and ready to swing like he was up to the plate during the last game of the World Series, while beside him Devon took a step forward, his bat up but his stance a lot less rigid.

  Lisa and Kiaya were as ready to help out, as I was, but I didn’t move right away. Instead, I took a moment to size up the situation. Four zombies and five of us, so the odds were in our favor, but it didn’t do anyone any good to underestimate the situation. One false move and they could get their teeth into you, and then where would we be? We could be okay like Hank, or we could end up like Charlie, the poor bastard from the Western Motel. He’d been bitten and turned only hours later, killing his roommate and several others.

  Devon swung his bat at the head of the first zombie, a smallish former woman wearing a tattered pair of pink pajamas, and she went down. The blow didn’t kill her for good, but the second one he delivered did. Beside him, Miller did the same to the next zombie, but the guy was tall, and the corporal’s bat made impact with the creature’s chin, not his skull. A sickening crack followed, and I looked away from the sight of the thing’s jaw hanging much lower than it was supposed to.

  I moved forward as Miller swung a second time, ready to help out, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kiaya and Lisa do the same. My heart was pounding as fast as it had when I was little and a neighbor’s dog had chased me. I’d been scared to death, thinking the thing wanted to take a bite out of me, but when he’d pounced and managed to get me down, all he’d done was lick my face. The zombies wouldn’t play as nice.

  Miller was still struggling with the tall zombie when I reached him. He’d managed to get in a couple good hits, but he didn’t have the power Devon did, and the zombie was still on his feet. The quick instruction Devon had given me yesterday came back. Disable the thing first. Just like when Devon had his arms around me from behind. That was the way to go.

  I didn’t have a bat, so I called out, “Hit his leg, Miller. Break it, and he’ll go down.”

  The corporal shot me a quick look, his eyes wide with terror, before refocusing his attention. This time when he swung, the bat slammed into the zombie’s knee. The crack was audible, and the creature went down. He reached out as he fell, though, somehow managing to get hold of Miller. The corporal jerked away before the zombie could drag him down, and a snap followed. Something pinged against the floor, but I didn’t see what it was because I was too focused on the dead man in front of me. He was down now, his leg bent at a sickening angle. He was still trying to get up, but I didn’t give him the opportunity to get to his feet. I jumped on him, my knees landing on his chest, and slammed my knife into his eye socket.

  I’d thought watching the blade squish into his milky eye was the most disgusting moment of my life, but I’d been very wrong, because pulling it free was ten times more disturbing. Black goo, more foul-smelling than the stink of rotting meat, gushed from the orifice, splattering my hand, and my stomach convulsed. Even worse was the hole my knife had left in his face. He was rotting but still looked mostly human at this point, and the gaping, black cavity seemed to stare at me accusingly.

  I had to swallow down bile when I looked away.

  That was when my gaze landed on something shiny. Realizing what it was, I rolled off the dead zombie and picked it up, staring down at it. It was an Army dog tag. The zombie most have ripped it off Miller.

  A scrape against the floor to my left drew my attention to the skirmish still happening around me, and I shoved the little piece of metal in my pocket. I was on my feet a few seconds later, rushing to where Devon stood struggling with a zombie. Two were still up, but Lisa, Kiaya, and Miller seemed to have the other one under control. Devon, however, had lost his bat at some point. He glanced to where it lay on the floor more than two feet from him as he struggled to keep the zombie back.

  I scooped it up and charged toward them, the bat up and ready. Just as I was about to swing, though, Devon tripped over something on the floor and stumbled back, slamming into the shelf. Bottles of flavored, carbonated water fell to the floor. One burst open, spraying my legs with the cool liquid, while a second ended up under my foot. It gave under my weight, exploding just like the other one had, but not before sending me off balance. I fell forward, bat still in hand, and slammed into Devon and the zombie. All three of us ended up on the floor.

  “Shit,” Devon muttered.

  I was half on top of him, so I rolled to the right, trying to get away. The cut on my back screamed in protest, but I ignored it, instead focusing on what I had to do to survive this. The bat was beside me, and I grabbed for it again, ready to pass it his way, but before I could, a bang echoed through the air, and the head of the zombie Devon had been struggling with exploded.

  I sat back, gasping, and looked to where Lisa, Kiaya, and Miller stood, expecting one of them to be holding a gun. None of them were, though, and they were all staring past me toward the end of the aisle.

  Footsteps pounded against the floor, and I twisted. Four men were headed our way. They were all armed with handguns and even a few semi-automatic type weapons, and the one at the front of the group had a gun that brought images of Rick Grimes from The Walking Dead to mind. It was up, but thankfully didn’t seem to be aimed at anyone in particular.

  “Everyone okay?” said a deep male voice.

  Devon pushed the dead zombie off him and sat up, and I scrambled to his side, wanting to make sure he was okay. He’d been showered with black goo but seemed to be in one piece.

  “You’re all right?” I asked instead of answering the other man’s question.

  Devon nodded. “Yeah. Nothing injured but my pride.”

  “Can you please be serious?”

  “Rowan?” said a familiar male voice.

  My back stiffened, and I turned to face the newcomers just as someone pushed their way to the front. Flashlights had been set on carts and shelves to illuminate the area, but the shadows were deep, and I couldn’t see his face. Not that I needed to. Even if I couldn’t make out his broad shoulders, I would have known who it was. I would have recognized Doug’s voice anywhere.

  He stepped closer, moving into the light, and his face came into view. Knowing who I’d see hadn’t prepared me, though, and I jerked like someone had just jumped out of a closet and yelled boo.

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nbsp; “Rowan,” he said again, kneeling in front of me.

  He looked the same as I remembered, but different, too. Taller than Devon, but just as fit, his thick jacket couldn’t conceal his muscled biceps. His dark hair was messy and longer than it had been, and while his brown eyes looked exactly as I remembered, something about them had changed as well. The expression, for one. It was serious. Too serious to be the guy I’d dated for nearly a year.

  Devon looked from Doug to me. “You two know each other?”

  “Doug,” I managed to get out. “We went to high school together.”

  “I can’t believe it’s you. I didn’t think anyone I knew had survived.” Doug hadn’t looked away from me, and my face warmed under his intense scrutiny. “You’re okay? What about your family?”

  I had to swallow so I could talk. “Dead.”

  His face fell. “My parents, too. I’m sorry, Rowan.”

  The news was sadder than it should have been, considering I wasn’t really surprised. His dad had been my French teacher, and I’d always liked him. Even after Doug and I broke up.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it.

  Doug nodded twice, then out of nowhere, he threw his arms around me, crushing me in a hug. “Damn, it’s good to see you.”

  I was caught so off guard that I found myself hugging him back even though I’d never wanted to see him again, let alone talk to him and let him touch me. We hadn’t spoken since he dumped me, and I’d been okay with that, and while so much had changed and a lot of things I used to think were so important now seemed silly, my bitterness over how he’d treated me hadn’t faded. And it didn’t seem silly at all.

  After a hug that went on longer than necessary, Doug pulled away, but he didn’t release me. Instead, he held on to me as he stood, pulling me with him. Devon followed our lead, watching us with a frown on his face and confusion flashing in his blue eyes.

  “Yo,” someone said from behind Doug.

  We all turned to face his group, and I used the opportunity to extract myself from my ex’s grasp and move closer to Devon.