“Leave us be,” my dad called out to them, his gun raised. “Move on, and we won’t hurt you.”
A loud barking laugh came from a large man near the middle of the group. His teeth shone from between his pale blue lips, and I resisted the urge to throw up. I would never get over the sight of those animal-like teeth. “I don’t think that would be in our best interest,” he spoke, his voice filling the clearing. “We’ve traveled a long way, and we are so so very hungry.”
The girl next to him whined loudly, like an animal poised and ready to attack. The hairs on my arms stood up at the sound.
“Easy, Cara,” the man said. “We need to share amongst everyone in the group.”
“I’m so hungry,” she said, her voice like fingernails on a chalkboard. I glanced around me and saw that I wasn’t the only one affected by her. Her black eyes stared unwavering at us, her tongue peeking out to lick her dry lips. “Let me go.”
The man sighed as if bored. “If you must.” He flipped his hand lazily, and as one, they came barreling at us.
I shot the first man that came toward me, missing his head, catching him in the shoulder blade. He went down, but was already struggling to stand up by the time I raced to him. I aimed a kick at his head, and sent spiraling back. I ducked in time to miss the arms of the girl who had whined earlier. I punched her in the face, aiming the gun straight at her head. She went down with a thump, blood pooling around her head.
I had no time to think of that though before turning back to my original opponent. He had recovered and tackled me to the ground, his strength unbelievable. I struggled for a moment, my gun slipping out of my hand and sliding across the ground. His mouth came closer to me, his breath hot and smelling vaguely icy on my face. With his teeth bared, he moaned with pleasure.
“I can smell your blood,” he said, grazing his lips across my cheek. “It smells so good. Just one small bite, one teensy little bite. I promise I won’t kill you. I’m just so hungry.”
I leaned forward and head-butted him, sending him howling back in pain. I took that opportunity to swing up at him with my fists, catching him in the jaw. His whines became more pronounced, and I reached up and around him, stabbing my knife deep into the back of his neck. I watched as his black eyes went wide. I raised my eye shaking fingers to his neck, but I didn’t even know if they had a pulse. I pushed his body up as I dragged myself from underneath him.
“Zoey,” Ash said, rushing over and offering me a hand up. I took it, and he hoisted me up. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “Ash!” He spun around and immediately was caught, strong blue arms wrapped his chest pulling him away. I scrambled for my gun and aimed it at the Awakened. I hesitated; my arm was still shaky, and I didn’t want to hit Ash. “Let him go!” I shouted.
My dad heard my shout and turned around, his eyes set on us. He started making his way over but was immediately stopped by a small Awakened woman. She had launched herself at him, and he was quickly distracted, fighting her off. I looked at our three temporary companions, but they were all busy taking down the rest of the group.
“Let him go,” I repeated.
The man laughed. “Oh, sure, little girl. I’ll let him go. After I enjoy a little snack.” He proceeded to sink his teeth into Ash’s shoulder. Ash cried out, his hands scrambling at the arms that held him tight. He started dragging him away, and I lost it.
I ran forward, jumping on the back of the Awakened, my gun pressed to his neck. The man dropped Ash, his arms coming up to claw at my grip, and Ash rolled out of the way. I fired and he went down. I fell onto the floor, the breath knocked out of me.
“Are you okay?” Ash asked, again, falling to his knees next to me.
“I’m fine,” I said, sitting up and wincing. I looked around us and saw that the others had taken out the Awakened with ease. I watched as Memphis drove the butt of his gun at the head of the last one. I glanced around me, making sure there were none lurking in the shadows of the trees before turning back to Ash. “Let me see your shoulder.”
Ash shook his head. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” I said firmly. “Come here.”
He relented, failing to his knees next to me. I peeled back the torn fabric of his shirt, sticky with warm blood. I leaned forward and inspected the gash. “It’s deep but you’re not going to die. Unfortunately.” I smiled up at him, and he smiled back looking surprised. “You probably need stitches though. I’m not sure, but I think so.”
I pulled off the t-shirt I was wearing and pressed it against his shoulder. I was grateful that I was wearing layers and had thought to wear a tank top under the shirt I was wearing. Still the act of removing of an article of clothing in front of Ash made me feel incredibly self-conscious.
“Are you guys okay?” my dad said, crouching by us.
“He got bit,” I said, looking up at him. “I’m fine. I think I may need to sew him up though.” I lifted the shirt from Ash’s shoulder and showed my dad the wound.
He nodded. “Yeah, it’s deep. Let me grab the first aid.” He stood up and walked back over to the car, grabbing the first aid kit from underneath the passenger seat.
“Do you know how to stitch people up?” Ash asked warily, his face getting pale.
“Nope,” I said, taking the first aid kit from my dad. “But no better time than the present to learn.”
Ash winced but still had a smile on his face. “Well, if there’s anyone I’d trust to sew me up, it would be you.”
“Shut up, you,” I said, pulling him toward me so that his shoulder was rested on my lap. I found a needle and threat in the pack, and poured some water across his wound, cleaning it the best I could. “This is going to hurt.”
He took a deep breath, bracing himself as I sunk the needle into his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, tense.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized, feeling tears spring in the corners of my eyes. “I don’t want it to hurt.”
He laughed shakily. “It doesn’t hurt in the slightest. Come on now.” He winced again as I continued my precarious needlework. “Hey, Z?”
“Hmm?” I asked, concentrating on my work. The smell of smoke filled my nose, and I knew that the others were burning the bodies. I breathed out, doing everything I could to keep the Spaghetti-Os I’d eaten the night before in my stomach.
“Thank you,” he said. I looked up from his shoulder, into his face, surprised. “For saving my life.”
I was shocked. Ash had never said thank you, not sincerely, in the nine years I had known him. “Sure,” I said, returning back to my work.
“You were like a warrior out there,” Ash said, his head turned away from his shoulder. He was trying to remain steady, but I could read the pain in his eyes and in the furrowing of his brow. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
I shrugged. “Lots of years of karate and kickboxing and self-defense classes. I guess they finally came into use.”
“Well, you were incredible,” he said, inhaling sharply as I pulled the thread tight.
“She was beautiful.”
We both looked up and saw Liam standing over us. My cheeks went red, and I bent over Ash’s shoulder, finishing up the stitching and tying it off. I studied it for a moment. It was not a pretty job but it was adequate. He would definitely have a scar but at least he wouldn’t bleed to death.
Ash frowned, sitting up slowly. He nodded gratefully at me. “She shouldn’t have to fight like that,” he shot at Liam, “beautiful or not.”
“Thanks, Ash. Real smooth,” I said, holding my hands covered in blood out in front of me and wrinkling my nose. I grabbed the water I’d used on his wounds and poured it over my hands.
“That’s not what I meant, Z,” he said, exasperated. “I’m just saying…”
I wiped my hands on my bloody, and now completely useless, shirt. “We’re fighting for our lives and you still can’t remember to call me by my actual name.”
Ash started to retort but Liam cut in. “Sorry
to interrupt, but I just came over to say goodbye.”
“Say goodbye?” I echoed, confused.
He nodded. “We’re headed up to Michigan to check on my dad’s sister before making our way back down to Colorado, and your dad will be wanting to move on to Nebraska.”
I nodded, surprised at my odd attachment to Liam and at my disappointment in his departure. “Well, I wish you guys luck.” I held my hand out to him.
He ignored my hand, leaning forward to place a quick peck on my cheek, causing butterflies to rip through my stomach. Ash coughed loudly, but I ignored him. Liam pulled back, smiling that crooked smile. “You too, Zoey. I hope to see you at Sanctuary one day.”
A corner of my mouth twitched up in a smile. “Maybe.”
He walked away, heading toward his parents. They all exchanged words with my dad before shouldering their packs and heading back into the forest. I watched them with some trepidation. For a moment there, I had felt so alone. It had been nice to know we weren’t the only three left fighting for survival.
“What a charmer,” Ash scoffed as soon as they were gone. He leaned down to the ground, reaching for his gun. His face was pulled taught with pain, but he made no noise. I would have to remember to give him pain medicine later.
“You would know,” I said drily. I glanced over my shoulder at the pile of charred bodies, just a pile of body parts and ash. I shuddered; it made me sick. These were humans, people who had lived lives before the virus, before they had died. I didn’t know why they had awakened. I didn’t know if there was a purpose to them. But that didn’t matter. I felt a wave of remorse for them. They were beyond peace, beyond resting, and now were simply consumed by hunger and violence.
“Come on, Z, seriously? The guy is hitting on you in the middle of the zombie apocalypse! After his fiancée just died!” Ash said. “And he’s such a Southern gentleman, kissing you on the cheek.”
“Okay, one, it’s not the apocalypse. Two, so what if he kissed me?” I said, starting toward the car. “And three, I’m pretty sure I detect a bit of jealousy back there.”
Ash broke out in a grin, looking so much like his old self that I felt a pang go through me. “I don’t like anyone looking at my girl that way. You know I’m the only one for you.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “You’re irritating,” I said half-heartedly. “Let’s get out of here.”
After we had cleaned ourselves up and erased all signs that we had been there, we climbed back into the car and drove for a few hours. As the sun began to crawl higher, peeking through the heavy clouds, my dad pulled over and set up another practice. He set me up with bottles to work on my shooting while he sparred with Ash. He pointed out Ash’s weaknesses, especially after the fight we had just encountered.
I focused on the bottles, occasionally shooting them off the fence but more often missing them. Every time I missed, I cursed loudly. I was so involved in what I was doing that I didn’t hear my dad coming up to me until he was right next to me.
“You lack confidence,” he said, his hands planted firmly on his hips. He looked exhausted, but still determined. Though he had washed most of the blood off from the fight, he was still dirty, and there was a definite scruff growing on his chin. I glanced at Ash and noticed the same thing, surprisingly. It made them both look older.
“I think it’s more like a lack of aim,” I grumbled, raising my gun and shooting again. It sailed too much to the left, and I resisted the urge to throw my gun and just roundhouse kick the bottle off the stupid fence. That was something I knew I could do.
“Look, Zoey, you’re doing everything right, and yet you’re still not hitting what you aim for,” he pointed out. “You’re not confident in what you’re doing. You don’t trust your own abilities.”
“Right, okay,” I said. “I don’t trust myself.” When he didn’t move away, I spoke again, feeling exasperated. “Can you maybe not stand there and watch me? I can’t concentrate.”
He studied me for a moment before calling out to Ash. “Ash, why don’t you work on your shooting for a sec? I want to have a word with Zoey.”
Fantastic. I sighed, stepping out of the way.
Ash nodded, brushing against me as he took my place. A charge of electricity went zipping through me at the contact. Our eyes met for a second, and I temporarily lost my breath. He was worn, beaten from the past couple days on the road. His hair was a ruffled mess, there were dark purple bags under his blue eyes, and he had a shadow along his jawline, but he had never looked so tempting. I tore my gaze away from him and looked up to my dad.
“What? What is it?” I asked.
“Don’t ‘what’ me with that attitude,” he said. He led me away, enough from Ash that he could not eavesdrop. “I just wanted to talk to you. I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“I’m fine,” I said, automatically. “You don’t have to worry about me, Dad.”
He raised his eyebrow at me, looking so much like his old self that I nearly burst into tears. He was so young, only thirty-eight. He had only been twenty when I was born and the gray strands that were now in his hair worried me. “I always worry about you,” he said. “I just want to make sure you’re okay, as okay as anyone could possibly be. This isn’t easy.”
I shook my head. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
“I know you’re not thrilled with us heading to your mom’s. And I know you’re not thrilled with Ash coming along.”
I nudged him in the shoulder. “She is my mom after all. It’s just…that’s rough too.” I looked up at him. “I’d imagine it’s worse for you.”
He shrugged, but I could see the pain in his eyes. Despite them being separated and divorced for so long, I could see that my dad never really got over my mom. “It’s for your survival, Zoey. We’ll handle it as it comes.”
“Exactly,” I said. “We’ll be fine.”
“And Ash?” he asked, looking over my shoulder.
I looked back at Ash, who was standing legs shoulder width apart, aiming for the bottles. My heart slammed in my chest, and I sighed. “It’s not like I wanted him to die, Dad,” I retorted. “It’s just not easy to have your high school bully along with you, every moment of the day.”
His mouth quirked up a bit, and I resisted the urge to smile as well. He knew me better than anyone. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you…”
“About what?” I asked, wiping my sweaty hands all over my jeans. I would have to change when I got back to the car. I felt disgusting and dirty. I ran a hand through my hair and winced at how greasy and stringy it had gotten over the past few days.
He took a deep breath and blew it out, looking embarrassed for a moment. “I wanted to apologize.” I looked up from my thorough examination of my hair and narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re right. I’ve always treated Ash better than I should have.”
“Dad, it’s not that important,” I started to say, but he was already shaking his head.
“No, you were right. Ash was a bully, and I knew that he had sent you home crying, but I just liked the kid. I always thought he had a crush on you and couldn’t quite figure out what to do about it. But that was no excuse. I should have been behind my daughter.”
“It’s okay,” I said, secretly jumping for joy on the inside. Finally, after nine years, my dad was seeing. He was admitting. It shouldn’t have been that important now, but it was. My dad’s obvious affection for Ash despite his treatment of me had always bothered me.
“Thank you. It’s not, but thank you. I should have never taken Ash’s side when you guys were fighting. I should have taken you more seriously. I know you think I always wanted a boy, but really I just wanted you, Zoey. You’re the best kid a parent could ask for.”
“Aw, Dad,” I said teasing him, trying to hide the emotions that were building up in the back of my throat. “Come on, there’s no other person that I’d rather be with at the end of the world.”
“Well, I’m going to take care of you,” he promised, sliding
his hands into his pockets. He nodded toward Ash. “I know he’s been rough on you, but give him a chance. He’s changed. The virus, the Awakened, it’s changed him. And I’ve always thought he liked you.”
I dropped my gaze to the ground. “Ash doesn’t like me,” I insisted, but I didn’t feel so sure of that anymore. I sighed dramatically. “But I guess if we have to repopulate the earth together, there could be worse candidates.”
He groaned, but there was laughter in it. I grinned. “Please, really? Don’t talk about that kind of stuff with your old man. It’s weird.”
I laughed, and Ash glanced over at us, his eyebrows raised.
“Come on; let’s get out of here,” he said, grabbing my head with his arm in a headlock. “I love you, champ.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
IT WAS A DIFFERENT DREAM this time. I was in the brownstone, trapped in my bedroom. Bandit was at the door whining, begging to be let out. I could hear the whispers of the Awakened in the streets. I was wrapped in the blankets on my bed, in the fetal position. Bandit’s paws kept scratching at the door, and the whining grew loud and louder. I clapped my hands over my ears and whimpered. “No, Bandit. No.”
He barked loudly, and I jumped at the sound. A moment later, there was a loud pounding on my bedroom door, shaking it in its frame. The doorknob rattled, but it was locked. I didn’t remember locking it, and I remembered it was because my bedroom had never had a lock on the door. Bandit pranced nervously in place, barking at the door.
“Bandit,” I whispered, fear shooting through my veins like ice. “Bandit, come here.”
He ignored me, his ears perked up, alert and ready. He crouched lower, his haunches up, as he growled at whatever was on the other side of the door. He was always the most protective dog. The door continued to rattle, and I knew it was only moments before it was ripped from its hinges.
It went flying, smacking into Bandit. He whimpered but held his ground. He went sprinting to the three Awakened that had burst in the room. The first one grabbed Bandit like he weighed nothing and tossed him across the room. My dog’s body went slamming into the solid wall and fell to the floor with a thump. I screamed and screamed and screamed.
The Awakened Page 12
