Lover in Hell: A Post-Apocalyptic Paranormal Romance

by Dia Cole

  “Use your guns only as a last resort,” Mike ordered reaching the bay door we’d entered through.

  We all nodded, knowing all too well that loud sounds like gunfire drew Biters like flies to rotting flesh.

  If only I had a military-issued sound suppressor for my gun like Mike’s.

  The barrel attachment on his handgun was unlike any suppressor I’d ever seen. Instead of only slightly muffling the noise of his handgun, it nearly eliminated it.

  I eyed the suppressor covetously.

  Mike leaned down and started to lift the garage door. It hadn’t gone up more than an inch before bodies slammed into it from the other side.

  Where did all these Biters come from?

  Trish gulped. “We’re surrounded.”

  Jared made a panicked sound. “How are we going to get out?”

  Mike was quiet. Too quiet.

  A lump grew in my throat.

  Are we trapped in here?

  Trish grabbed my arm and nodded her head toward the Lamborghini. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  I shook my head. “Don’t be crazy. The car is in here for a reason. It won’t run.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” Trish sprinted to the vehicle.

  I turned to see if either Jared or Mike noticed Trish ducking inside the car but Jared’s attention was on the front of the garage and Mike was looking down at his hand radio.

  Realizing that Mike was going to call for help, the tension whooshed out of my body.

  Dominic and the rest of the soldiers at the safe house will get us out of here.

  I stroked Tango’s forehead. “Everything is going to be okay.”

  Mike looked at me, lines of strain pinching the corners of his mouth. “I’m out of range.”

  My stomach pitched and rolled.

  Well hell.

  A skeletal arm with rotting flesh hanging off it somehow managed to wriggle through the bottom of the bay door closest to us. The door started to rise.

  Without even thinking about it, I rushed forward and severed the limb with a downward thrust of my razor-sharp ax blade. The arm flopped around at our feet as the metal door began to buckle inward.

  How long until the Biters bust through?

  Even now the doors on the east side were starting to give under the pounding of the dead.

  Mike grabbed my arm and pulled me away. “Move toward the center,” he ordered, motioning Jared to follow us.

  Jared shook his head. “Look, there.” He pointed at a grease-stained door near a row of tools hanging on the wall. “Come on. We can get out this way.” He took off running.

  “No, Jared!” Mike shouted.

  Seeming not to hear the warning, Jared darted past the car lifts, grabbed the door handle, and turned it. The door flew open and a horde of zombies poured into the garage.

  My breath crystallized in my lungs as they staggered straight toward us.

  Most of the dead were in similar states of decay with putrid skin clinging to skeletal frames. Swarms of flies buzzed around their rotting faces as they lurched forward. The sound of their gnashing teeth filled the air while the pungent stench of wet decaying flesh had me gulping back the protein bar I’d had for breakfast.

  Mike cursed and pushed me behind him.

  Trish jumped out of the Lamborghini. “Jared!” she cried, her eyes wide with panic.

  Pinned behind the door, her brother futilely pushed against the onslaught of zombies.

  “Sit tight, Jared,” Mike shouted as he fired into the oncoming horde. “Right now you’re the safest person in the room.”

  Mike’s bullets took down an armless teenager in a Superman T-shirt and an elderly woman in a headscarf.

  The Biters didn’t look twice as they trampled over their fallen.

  “Stay behind me, Eden,” Mike ordered as he continued firing. Four more Biters dropped to the ground.

  It wasn’t enough.

  I swallowed hard. I hadn’t seen this many Biters since the day the world went to hell. Terror choked me as I remembered seeing a woman being devoured alive. I still heard her screams in my nightmares.

  I never want to go out like that.

  I plastered myself to Mike’s side. “What’s the plan?”

  “Stay alive,” he said, reloading.

  3

  Mike drew his second weapon. With a gun in each hand, he rotated his arms around firing in a half circle. He looked like some kind of action hero as he mowed down Biter after Biter. But just as soon as the front line of zombies fell, another group took their place.

  There are too many.

  Trish shouted something, but I couldn’t make out her words over the sound of clicking teeth. She darted back into the Lamborghini.

  A second later, the sound of an engine sputtered to life.

  Just as hope went off like a firework in my chest, the engine died.

  Damn it.

  Spooked by all the noise, Tango dug in his claws and did his best to turn my shirt into confetti.

  Breathing hard, I wrapped one arm across him to keep him secure.

  I’ll protect you, kitty boy.

  Several Biters escaped Mike’s deadly stream of bullets by coming at us from the side.

  I raised my ax. After so much practice with the weapon, it felt like an extension of my hand.

  A small man with a goatee framing his chattering teeth lunged.

  I swung the spike end of my weapon at the top of his skull.

  Metal met bone in a wet crunch.

  As if I’d flipped a switch, his body went lax. Gritting my teeth, I tore my ax free. Black blood sprayed in an arc covering the heavyset woman pushing her way toward us. Her intestines hung out of her stomach like slippery wet eels.

  Gross.

  Dodging her grasp, I slammed my ax into the top of her head. She collapsed, taking my weapon with her.

  “Move toward the car,” Mike said, firing over my shoulder.

  “Which one?” I gasped struggling to free my ax while holding on to the panicked feline.

  If I survive this, I’ll train to fight one-handed.

  “Leave the ax!” Mike shouted.

  No way. I love that weapon.

  I tugged harder.

  Mike cursed and snapped his hand around my wrist like a handcuff. He dragged me away. “I can’t fight if I’m worried about you.” He pulled me over to the BMW, opened the door, and shoved me inside.

  “Hey.” I landed akimbo on the back seat, the air whooshing out of my body.

  “Stay here.” Mike slammed the door closed.

  Damn it. He’s as bad as my sister, never letting me fight.

  I pulled myself up onto the seat.

  Tango yowled in protest and pushed his way out of my hoodie.

  I grabbed for him, but he swiped the top of my hand with inch-long razor-sharp claws.

  “Ouch, don’t scratch the person trying to save you!”

  My appeal fell on deaf ears. He jumped down to the floorboard and half wedged himself under the front passenger seat.

  I looked down at the thin line of blood welling up on the top of my hand.

  As if things weren’t shitty enough…

  Thunk.

  A Biter wearing a cop’s uniform slammed his face into the windshield. The goo from his decomposing skin left smears on the glass.

  I’ve always hated cops…

  Two more Biters joined the police officer. Their hands slapped at the windshield.

  My blood must be drawing them.

  I sucked on the wound hoping it would clot faster.

  The windshield cracked.

  My hands shook as I drew my gun.

  As soon as I fire, I’ll draw all the Biters here.

  Damned if I do. Damned if I don’t.

  A loud scream rang out.

  I glanced out the car window.

  Jared was still behind the door, but instead of trying to push it closed, he clung to the handle while a mass of Biters be
at and clawed at the front of it.

  The wood barrier won’t hold.

  Fingers of dread wrapped around my heart.

  “I got you, Jared,” Mike shouted from on top of the Porsche lifted high above the horde. He stomped on the hood making a loud banging noise. “Come over here you dead sons of bitches.”

  Jared’s attackers turned away from the door and staggered toward the Porsche. Following suit, the cop and his friends abandoned their assault on the windshield and joined the mass of dead clawing the air trying to reach Mike.

  Fear and anxiety spiked my blood.

  There have to be at least forty of those things.

  Mike called down to the horde looking like a rock star high above a bloodthirsty crowd. As the Biters clawed the air trying to reach him, he opened fire.

  Body after body hit the floor.

  As soon as he emptied his guns, he reloaded with astonishing speed and began firing again.

  It’s working. The horde’s thinning.

  At this rate, he’d mow through the rest of them in no time.

  I let out a shaky breath.

  We’re going to get out of here.

  I wiped my bloody hand on my hoodie and glared down at Tango. “When we get home I’m going to teach you some manne—”

  A bloodcurdling shriek blasted through the garage.

  What the…

  A chill skated down my spine as the Biters slowly cleared a path for a muscular blond man wearing blood-covered military fatigues.

  Hunter?

  The soldier bore a striking resemblance to one of the hulking members of Mike’s squad.

  As he stepped into the garage, I realized he was a few inches shy of Hunter’s nearly seven-foot height.

  He’s not one of ours. Who is he?

  Mike did a double take when he spied the soldier. He slipped on the hood of the Porsche.

  I dug my fingers into the leather seat willing him to right himself.

  He caught his balance and opened fire on the soldier.

  Inexplicably, the soldier twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding the bullets.

  I blinked in confusion.

  Biters can’t do that. They are slow and stupid and—

  The soldier unhinged his jaw and let out a guttural shriek that reverberated throughout the room.

  My blood ran cold.

  It’s the Howler.

  The creature sniffed the door.

  “Come and get me you soulless coward!” Mike shouted. His bullets sliced through the air, slamming into the creature’s back and head.

  Ignoring him, the Howler ripped the door from its hinges.

  Jared cowered back against the wall of tools. When the creature came at him, Jared swung his bowie knife.

  Dodging the weapon, the Howler grabbed Jared’s head and, with a horrendous tearing sound, ripped it off at the neck.

  Jared.

  I choked on my sob. The shy mechanic didn’t deserve this.

  The Howler tossed Jared’s head away as if it was a bowling ball. He shrieked again.

  As if he’d rung the dinner bell the remaining members of the horde staggered over and fell onto Jared’s headless body like starving animals.

  The Howler looked up at Mike and bared his teeth.

  All the fire hairs on my body rose. I’d never seen a zombie act like that before. The Howler hadn’t even eaten Jared. It was as if he’d killed the mechanic for sport.

  An engine roared to life followed by the shrill sound of tires squealing.

  As I watched in shock, the Lamborghini raced by, slamming into the Howler with enough impact to send him flying into a stack of tires.

  Go Trish.

  She opened the door and started to get out. Tears ran down her face, her shirt was torn and covered with blood.

  Was she attacked too?

  “Jared,” she cried, looking at the remains of her brother.

  Losing interest in their meal, the Biters stumbled to their feet. They began to stagger her way.

  Mike called down to Trish, “You and Eden get out of here.” He looked my way and motioned me to join Trish.

  He didn’t need to tell me twice. I grabbed the cat by the scruff and started opening the car door.

  Trish screamed.

  I jerked my head up and saw the Howler running toward Trish.

  My mouth fell open in shock.

  Impossible. Zombies didn’t regenerate from injuries. Did they?

  “Go, go, go!” Mike shouted at Trish. He reloaded again and opened fire on the Howler.

  Trish jumped back in the Lamborghini and peeled away. With a crash she took out one of the metal bay doors and zoomed off into the distance.

  At least one of us will make it out alive.

  Mike looked down at me. “Get to safety.” He pointed at the opening in the side of the garage.

  But what about him?

  Just then the Howler vaulted on top of the Porsche, its desert tactical boots crunching into the hood. It struck out at Mike and sent the sergeant flying to the concrete below.

  Heart in my throat, I willed him to be okay.

  Mike groaned and rolled to his feet.

  Thank Go—

  The Howler jumped down.

  Mike won’t survive that thing. I have to help him.

  I set the cat down on the seat and jumped out of the car. As I rushed over to where Mike fought the Howler, I nearly tripped over the tire iron on the ground.

  Cars and bullets didn’t seem to work on the Howler, maybe this will.

  I scooped up the long piece of metal and ran around the front of the BMW.

  The Howler had Mike by the throat. Mike’s head was twisted to the side at an impossible angle.

  Oh, no! I’m too late.

  I cried out in denial.

  He can’t be dead.

  Mike.

  God, no.

  Pain and fury burned away my fear. I ran at the creature and rammed the iron up into the back of its skull with all of my might. “Die, you undead freak!”

  Black blood ran down the tire iron, coating my hands.

  I released the slippery weapon and waited for the Howler to face-plant on the oil-stained concrete.

  It didn’t fall.

  Instead, it dropped Mike, and yanked the tire iron out of the back of its head.

  All the fine hairs on my body rose as it slowly spun around. I saw my death in its frosted gaze.

  Oh, shit.

  Backing up, I drew my gun and fired repeatedly. I might as well have been tossing pebbles at it. As soon as a bullet tore through its skull, the entry and exit wounds healed.

  Click. Click. Click.

  I was out of bullets. Fear paralyzed me.

  The creature let out an inhuman howl. Then it rushed forward, grabbed me by my arms, and flung me at the BMW.

  The back of my head hit the windshield with a crunch and everything went dark.

  4

  I woke to the sound of a gun being reloaded.

  Startled, I opened my eyes and stared up at an ivory silk canopy.

  Where am I?

  Ignoring my throbbing head, I sat up. Trying to blink away the dizziness, I looked around the palatial bedroom suite taking in the cream-and-gold sheets of the massive four-poster bed I was lying on. They perfectly matched the expensive-looking rug in the middle of the room. Over that hung a chandelier of all things.

  My gaze locked on the French doors that led out to a balcony on the other side of the room. The sheer drapes were tied back revealing the dark silhouette of a mountain against the darkening stormy sky.

  Nothing looked remotely familiar.

  My breathing turned jagged as I tried to remember how I got there. The last thing I remembered was the Howler.

  “Relax, you’re okay,” said a deep voice to my left. “We’re in a gated mansion near the foothills. We’ll hole up here for the night.”

  Mike.

  I turned my head and found him seated next to the bed on a wingback
chair that looked like it belonged in a museum. He was covered in blood, but very much alive. I let out the tense breath I’d been holding.

  Wait…how is he alive?

  “You were dead. Your neck broken.” My tone was accusatory as I scanned him looking for any sign of injury. There wasn’t one. In fact, there wasn’t a scratch on him.

  Did I imagine it?

  He set his gun down and looked over at me. “I was playing possum. When the Howler went after you, I grabbed the tire iron and rammed it all the way through his brain. That put him down for good.” His voice softened. “That was a crazy thing you did trying to save me. You should’ve run. Why didn’t you?”

  Because I couldn’t imagine a world without you in it.

  Deflecting his question, I said, “You were the one that saved my life. Thank you.”

  He cocked his head. “That makes seven times by my count.”

  “I’ll give you six. You can’t count that convenience store fiasco.”

  “Can too.”

  Smiling at our familiar argument, I shifted my gaze to the line of handguns on the nightstand. His weapons looked almost obscene laid out on the froufrou antique-looking piece.

  We have our guns. We’re both alive and the cat is…

  A wave of panic gripped me. “Wait. I left Tango in the car. I have to go back for him.”

  Mike gave me an incredulous look. “After what we just went through you’d want to go back for a cat?”

  I balled my blood-encrusted fists against the sheets. “I have to.”

  Please don’t let the Biters have eaten him.

  He shook his head. “Relax. I rescued the damn thing too. I put it in the bathroom.” He nodded at a closed door across from the bed. “I even gave it a can of tuna I found in the kitchen.”

  My mouth fell open. “You really did that?”

  The back of his neck reddened. “Yeah.”

  The man continues to surprise me.

  “That was sweet of you.” His kind gesture had me looking at him with new eyes.

  He’s thoughtful and gorgeous.

  Even the streaks of blood and grease on his face couldn’t detract from his movie-star good looks. If I wasn’t careful, I could be in serious danger of losing my heart to him.

  As if reading my mind, he cleared his throat. “Don’t get your hopes up. The cat is still not coming back to the safe house.” He interrupted me before I could argue. “How are you feeling?”