Broken World | Novel | Angus

by Mary, Kate L.

  Before he stepped out of the bedroom, he called, “You decent?”

  “Yeah,” came the reply.

  Naya was curled up on the couch, smiling, her wet hair now down around her shoulders. Her arms were wrapped around her body, but it didn’t seem like she was cold. More like she was enjoying the fresh clothes as much as he was.

  “Brought you this,” he said, handing her one of the blankets.

  “Thanks.”

  She spread it over her lap while Angus settled into the chair and did the same with the blanket he’d brought for himself. The fire was really going now, the flames flickering through the house and lighting up more of the room. It was still pouring outside, and the crackling fire was barely audible over the thud of it hitting the roof. It was relaxing, though.

  Naya must have felt the same way, because she lay back and stretched out on the couch. She had a small smile on her face as she stared into the fire, her expression serene. For a few minutes, Angus watched her, marveling at how tough she was, but it wasn’t long before his eyes began to grow heavy. He didn’t even try to fight the exhaustion, and thanks to the crackling fire and the rhythmic thud of the rain hitting the roof, he was out in no time.

  Chapter Nine

  Raindrops pinged against the window and roof, echoing through the bedroom, but Angus barely noticed. He was too busy staring at Parv. She was naked and lying on her back, his own naked body hovering over hers. She ran her fingers down his chest, tracing one scar, then another, then she turned her attention to the one on his arm. The one from the day before. Already it was scabbed over and shrinking.

  “I can’t believe how fast it’s healing.”

  He frowned down at it, not wanting to talk about the damn bite when he had this beautiful, naked woman in his bed. Although even he had to admit it was strange how fast the bite was healing. He’d been bitten before—a lot of times—and it had hurt like hell for days, had taken weeks to heal completely. Not this time.

  “You think it’s because of what they did to you in the CDC?” Parv asked, her fingertip still tracing a circle around the newest scar.

  Angus tore his gaze from her body so he could focus on her face, not sure what she was referring to at first. “I ain’t exactly sure what you mean.”

  Parv’s finger froze in the middle of drawing a circle on his arm. “They injected you with all kinds of things, right?” She nodded to the bite. “Maybe that’s why you’re healing faster than usual.”

  It was a strange thought, but he had to admit it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. The bite was the first real injury he’d gotten since escaping the CDC, and he hadn’t healed this quickly before. Plus, he had no clue what they’d done to him in there. Twenty years he’d been locked up, and during that time they were always injecting him with new things. Different strains of the virus, vaccines they’d created, and only God knew what else. Sometimes the injections had done little, but other times it had felt like they were burning their way through his body. No matter what the doctors and scientists gave him, though, he’d always recovered.

  “Guess it’s possible,” he’d said but shrugged. “Not that I give a shit.”

  Parv had rolled her eyes. “You have to at least be curious.”

  “Right now,” he planted a kiss between her breasts, “I ain’t thinkin’ ’bout anything but you.”

  She’d threaded her fingers through his hair when he kissed her chest again, then again, making a trail down her body. His had hands followed, running over her curves, her dark skin soft under his fingertips, and she’d moaned when his lips moved to her inner thigh. First just a sound of pleasure, then his name.

  “Angus…”

  He jerked awake, blinking, his brain unfocused and confused, his gaze landing on the fireplace. The ping of raindrops hitting the roof echoed through the room, and suddenly he remembered where he was. The cabin.

  Angus looked around, his stiff neck protesting the movement. He was still in the chair and sore, and Naya was curled up on the couch. Sound asleep. The fire had died down while he was out, and the room had cooled off considerably. He needed to throw some logs on.

  It wasn’t until he dragged himself to his feet that he realized he was at full mast, and he almost laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up hard, and if he were being totally honest, he’d thought for sure he was too old for that—not that his body had obeyed the laws of nature or God since leaving the CDC.

  He didn’t savor the idea of Naya waking up and catching him with a boner the size of the Titanic, but even the embarrassment the situation would cause couldn’t stop Angus from replaying the dream as he tossed a few more logs on the fire. The feel of Parv’s skin under his hands was fresh in his mind, making his blood heat and his fingertips hum from the memory, and he closed his eyes, trying to hold on to the sensation.

  Too soon, though, it slipped away, evaporating like water on a hot day.

  He sighed as he dragged himself back to the chair and settled in once again, pulling the blanket up to his chin. Parv was still with him, more vivid than ever, but as he sat there, his gaze wandered to Naya, and other memories began clawing their way to the surface, begging for his attention.

  Glitter. His little girl.

  Angus had never thought he’d have kids, had never wanted to do that to the world, but having her had been a blessing and the only really good thing to come out of his time at the CDC. Her mom, Dr. Jane Helton, had slept with him for selfish and evil reasons, and he’d hated her for it at first. Hated that she’d callously given their daughter away the second she was born, that she’d allowed the experiments and ignored their child’s cries. She hadn’t even named the girl she’d given birth to, instead calling her Test Subject 06. That was how cold the woman had been when Angus first met her.

  Jane had come back to him, though. She’d crawled into his bed while he was sleeping, and God help him, he’d allowed it. He’d hated himself for the weakness, but Angus had been a prisoner and alone, and desperate for the feel of another person, so he’d given in. Not just once, either. Over and over again he’d allowed Jane into his bed, and eventually, so slowly he’d barely noticed it happening, their relationship had begun to change.

  They’d fallen in love.

  Neither of them had wanted it to happen, and it had defied all logic, but they’d been unable to put a stop to it. Why she even wanted him was something he’d never been able to figure out, but for his part, it had started out of a desperation to feel human. She’d done that for him and more.

  That was when they’d begun plotting their escape. Jane was going to get them out. Not just him, but Glitter, too, and then they would have a life outside the walls of the CDC. Together. A real family, and happy.

  It didn’t work, of course, and despite her best efforts, Jane had only managed to rescue Glitter before getting caught and thrown into a cell right across from Angus, and for the second time in his life, he’d been forced to watch the woman he loved die.

  Not for the last time, though. No, that would come much later…

  But that was something he couldn’t think about right now.

  Angus forced his thoughts to return to Glitter.

  He hadn’t been around when she was young, and by the time he’d gotten out of the CDC she hadn’t needed him. Not the way he would have liked, anyway. But they’d had eleven good years together. Eleven years when he’d had a person in his life who’d looked at him like no one else ever had before. Like he held the answers to the world’s biggest mysteries. Like he’d singlehandedly saved her, brought down the CDC, and destroyed the zombies—he’d done those things, but he’d required help. A lot of it.

  He and Glitter never had a normal father-daughter relationship. He’d never had to ground her, send her to her room, or admonish her for dating someone beneath her. The world had been too abnormal for those things, and they’d missed too much of each other’s lives to waste time on petty issues. Instead, they’d gotten to know
one another. They’d sat in the yard, and she’d ask questions about his life, about who he’d been before the world went to shit and how he’d become the kind of man who was willing to sacrifice his life for humanity. He hadn’t pulled any punches with her when he’d answered. Hadn’t sugarcoated his past or tried to make himself seem like less of an asshole. She’d heard the stories already, and even if she hadn’t, Angus had no issue claiming the mistakes he’d made. There had been a lot, but it had helped get him where he was, and he couldn’t help wondering if it had all been fate or destiny or something similar. All the struggle, all the pain, all the ups and downs had worked together, after all, had brought him to where he was and made him the man he was, and as crazy as it seemed, he’d been happy. Angus had his brother and a group of friends he’d gladly die for, a daughter, and a woman he loved with every inch of his being. It was more than he ever could have imagined for himself, more than he ever would have dared to hope for, and yet it was his. How could he not believe there was some bigger purpose to the things he’d endured?

  Glitter had listened to every word with a rapt attention he’d never experienced before, and he’d loved every moment of it. Loved every question she asked, loved that she never seemed to judge the person he’d been, loved that she never doubted he’d changed, and adored every time she’d touched him. A pat on the hand, her head on his shoulder, or a gentle hug that wasn’t the least bit hesitant despite how little they knew each other.

  Then she’d died.

  He hadn’t felt any real surprise when it happened. They’d lost so many others already, but he’d still felt like a part of him had been ripped away, and the years hadn’t softened the blow. Like a wave crashing over him, the memory of that day came back in a sudden swell. Angus put his hand to his chest when pain throbbed through him, trying to ease the ache even though it was useless. It had all been so stupid. So senseless and pointless. Not that there’d been much point to any of the deaths he’d witnessed—with the possible exception of all those assholes in the Monte Carlo and Star. This, though, had been one of the worst.

  They’d left the settlement a day before, heading out to scavenge for supplies. While they stole what they could from the supply shipments that left New Atlanta, hijacking every truck would have been selfish—there were people in other parts of the country who needed supplies as much as they had. Since the area surrounding their little settlement in Senoia had been picked clean for years, they were forced to go farther away when they needed things. They were good on food—they grew what they could and hunted and fished—but there were other necessities. Clothes and shoes, for example. More than thirty years had passed since the virus was released, and things were getting threadbare. Hand-me-downs had become rags, and the soles of shoes had worn thin. Finding replacements for those items was vital to their survival, and with the zombies gone, there was little risk in going out. The creatures that now roamed the Earth only came out at night, so as long as they were careful, there shouldn’t have been a problem.

  Or that was what they’d thought, anyway.

  Looking back, Angus couldn’t even remember why he’d given in when Glitter asked to go. He hadn’t wanted her to, he knew that, but he’d allowed it to happen anyway. Probably, he’d been afraid saying no would cause problems in their relationship. That she’d get mad at him, even. They’d never had a fight, and while he knew it was a normal part of parenting, the idea of having her angry at him for even one day had made him physically ill. And so, even though he’d hated the idea of her leaving the relative safety of Senoia, he’d agreed. They’d set off—Angus, Parv, Jim, Jada, and Glitter—traveling by bike since the creatures had killed off the horses the year before—each of them pulling an old baby trailer behind them.

  Unlike the rest of their group, his daughter had never seen the outside world. She’d spent ten years locked in the CDC, then eight more inside the walls of New Atlanta, hiding in plain sight while she worked at Dragon’s bar. The only parts of the country Glitter had seen were the forty or so miles between the city she’d been born in and the settlement they now called home, and she’d been enthralled by the crumbling remnants of the old world. Seeing the excitement on her face, the awe at little things he’d always taken for granted—like an old airport, for example—had pushed his worry away and helped him relax. Had convinced him that he’d made the right decision by letting her come.

  They’d traveled thirty or so miles that day, past towns Jim and his group had already picked clean, before taking shelter in an old house for the night. Angus remembered feeling almost serene as he stood watch. They were in a finished basement, the door barricaded so they were safe, and Parv had been curled up beside him, her head on his lap. He’d run his hand over her hair, staring at her tranquil face as the candlelight flickered over it. She was more open with him than anyone else, but there was still something guarded about her during the day. It had been that way since Trey died. But in sleep, she was soft. She was pushing fifty, but her face had still been relatively free of wrinkles, and the few lines—mostly at the corners of her eyes—that had taken up residence on her face vanished when she was asleep, making her look ten years younger.

  Angus remembered glancing up from her face and searching the room for his daughter. Glitter had been curled up on a couch, her eyes closed, her expression relaxed, and he’d been startled to realize how much she resembled a younger version of himself. He liked to think she had more of her mother in her, despite the fact that his daughter refused to acknowledge the woman’s part in her creation, but that night as he stared at her sleeping face, he could see himself. She was more attractive, more feminine, of course, but she still looked like him. Like a softer, sweeter version of the young man he’d once been. It was a startling and welcome revelation.

  They’d gotten moving shortly after the sun rose the next morning, gathering their things as they prepared for another long day. When Jim moved for the stairs, ready to remove the barricade they’d set up the night before, Glitter and Jada followed, but Parv and Angus had been too engrossed in each other. He couldn’t even remember what they’d been talking about, only that it had distracted him, and he’d been near the back of the group when they headed upstairs. Too far away to do anything. Too far away to save her.

  He was still on the stairs when Glitter screamed. She was out of sight, as was Jim, but Jada was in front of him, and the fear in her expression when she pulled her knife had been plainly visible. His own weapon was already out when the sweet scent filled his nostrils, and a second later the creature slammed into Jada, dragging her from sight.

  Angus had rushed to the top of the stairs but hadn’t left the doorway. It was instinct to put himself between Parv and any possible threat, plus he’d needed to get a look around. Needed to assess the situation and find Glitter before he ran headlong into danger. He’d told himself Jim was there. Tried to convince himself his daughter would be okay, that the other man was tough and strong and would protect her, but the blood streaked across the floor washed that certainty away.

  Glitter and Jim had been nowhere in sight.

  Angus looked to the right where he spotted Jada. She was on the ground, her hand pressed against her arm. Blood leaked from between her fingers and her eyes had been wide and terrified. Beside her, the creature was crouched, staring at Angus in a calculating way. He’d never seen one this close up other than the night Axl died, and it had been too dark to get a good look at the thing. The sight had shocked him.

  It was naked and hairless, and although he could tell it had once been a man, there was nothing but a smooth bulge where its genitalia should have been. Its eyes were milky yet focused when it tilted its head, studying him, and its skin was almost transparent, revealing black veins that seemed on the verge of breaking through. The zombie hybrid had opened its mouth and howled, and knowing it was about to charge, Angus had prepared himself for the impact.

  It hadn’t let him down.

  The creature had streaked across
the room, slamming into him and sending him flying. His body had slammed into the ground seconds later, the hybrid on top of him, and before Angus had been able to react, it had opened its mouth and sank its teeth into his shoulder, cutting through the thin fabric of his shirt. He’d groaned in pain but hadn’t bothered trying to fight the thing off. It wouldn’t kill him—that much he knew. Its purpose was to populate. To infect. To hunt and hunt and hunt until humans were as extinct as the dinosaurs that used to roam this planet.

  Instead of pushing the hybrid off him, Angus had allowed the creature to keep its teeth in his flesh. He’d lifted his knife, taken aim, and brought it down. The blade had sunk into the creature’s back, and its jaws opened, releasing Angus. Unfortunately, when that happened, the creature had also jerked away, and Angus lost his grip on the knife. He’d been on the floor, the zombie hybrid hovering over him. Its milky eyes focused as it opened its mouth and howled again. Blood coated its teeth and trickled down its chin and neck, and more dripped from the knife wound on its back, pooling on the floor. They’d already known that, unlike the zombies, these things were alive. The creature’s heart was still beating, and it could be killed just like a human, but the crazy thing was, as pissed as it acted at being stabbed, it didn’t seem to feel any pain.

  The creature was still staring at Angus, acting like it was trying to decide what to do with him—let him turn or rip his throat out—and it hadn’t noticed Parv sneak up behind it. When she grabbed the creature’s shoulder, it had only a split second to react before she slammed her blade into the back of its neck. It hadn’t been enough time.

  Angus watched its eyes widen in shock before going blank, then the thing had dropped to the ground. Motionless.

  Parv pulled first her knife free, then his, then she’d looked his way. There was sadness in her eyes, and it had been on the tip of his tongue to tell her he was okay when he remembered. Jada was bitten. But what about Jim? Glitter?