Wanted: Dead or Undead (Zombie West)

by Angela Scott

  "I don't want to have to kill you," she said, breaking the silence. "I really don't. I know how much Wen and the kids need you. Caroline, too. I think you should go back to them. Just pack up your things and leave before I change my mind."

  "I'm not leaving without you."

  She straightened her arms at his response and tipped her head to the side, eyeing him. "I'm not going anywhere with you. I've made that perfectly clear."

  Trace inched himself closer to her, slow and cautious, while she kept her pistol trained on him. Her instincts told her to shoot, but her heart refused to pull the trigger. An internal tug-o-war pressed down upon her and left her vulnerable, despite the gun in her hand.

  He came close enough to touch her, but instead he pressed his chest into the barrel, throwing her off guard. Point blank range. He held her captive with his gaze. It was unfair. She knew it and he knew it.

  "Please," she whispered. "Just go. Don't do this."

  "I'm not leaving here without you."

  "Don't." She shook her head.

  "Either you come back with me, or you put a bullet in me right now."

  "I can't let you turn me in—"

  "I'm not turning you over to anyone."

  "But," she faltered. "What about the posters?"

  He reached forward with his gloved hand and wiped away the tears that slipped down her cheeks. "You want the truth?"

  She nodded as more tears began to well and flow.

  Trace ran his thumb over her jaw line before dropping his arm to the side. He became more serious, and despite the emotional crack in her facade, she steadied herself and kept the gun pushed against his chest.

  "The first time I officially met you wasn't by accident," he said. "Neither was the second."

  She tensed under the weight of his words, though they didn't surprise her. The desert plains were simply too big to run into the same person twice by coincidence.

  "I tracked you from Sundance with every intention of handing you over to the next federal marshal I found." He didn't blink, and neither did Red. "I intended to cash in the reward on your head and then continue doing what I'd always done—not taking much from the world, and not adding much to it either. Just existing for the sake of existence. That was the plan. And honestly, I didn't really think much beyond that." He shrugged. "Hell, I didn't even know anything beyond that existed."

  "You could've done it." The words fell from her lips uncontained. "Back in that crazy town with the doctor. You and Wen could've been done with me then. So why didn't you? Why drag this out, lead me on? More money? Is that it?"

  "No—"

  "I saw the second poster, Cowboy." He flinched. "I know John raised the bounty. But I can tell you right now, he's not a rich man. Just a farm doctor who gets paid in chickens and eggs. He doesn't have that kind of money. I doubt you would've even seen a penny of it—"

  "I don't want the money," he said, cutting her off. "For the last time, that's not why I'm here. Not now. Not for quite some time."

  Her stomach twisted in on itself as a painful ache grew inside her. "Then why are you here?" It came out in a whisper.

  "I think you already know. It's the exact same reason why you haven't shot me already."

  She relaxed her hand and her finger fell away from the trigger.

  In that instant of hesitation, Trace grabbed the pistol and tossed it to a safe distance. He cupped her upper arms before she could move away and pulled her against him, chest to chest. She held her breath, not yet willing to give in, even as he placed his forehead against hers.

  She closed her eyes and swallowed. "Then why keep them?" She unconsciously slipped her hands around his waist. "The posters."

  Trace tipped her chin up so their lips nearly touched, and wove his fingers through the hair at the base of her neck, drawing her closer still. "Because of your name."

  "My name?"

  "You wouldn't tell me your name. The posters did." He held her face just inches from his own. "Elisabeth, I'm not going anywhere. Not without you. Shoot me in both legs if you must, but I'm telling you right now, I'll find a way to crawl after you."

  Chapter 30 – Dangerous

  Red closed her eyes and tears trickled down her cheeks.

  "I love you," he said. "Maybe it didn't start out that way, but that's why I'm here now, and why I'm not leaving without you."

  She wanted to hear it, needed to hear it, but now leaving would be even more painful. To stay in his arms and feel his breath on her skin would've been the easy thing to do, but it also would've been wrong.

  She angled her head away from him. "It's not safe for you to be with me."

  "Don't I know it." He dragged his thumb along her cheek, her eyes, and her lips.

  She looked up into his smiling face and knew he didn't understand the gravity of her words. "No, I'm dangerous. In here." She slipped her hand across her chest and pressed it against her beating heart. "I feel it, and... I think it's getting worse."

  His smile faded. "What do you mean? How are you dangerous?"

  There it was, the question she'd been avoiding.

  "What's going on, Red? Talk to me." He held her at arm's length and searched her face for answers.

  She lowered her eyes, unable to meet his gaze, unable to imagine speaking the words.

  "Just tell me what's going on. Let me help."

  She shook her head. "You can't."

  "At least let me try."

  "It's not something you can change or fix. It's me. It's done. I'm one of them and there's nothing anyone can do about it. I've become like the walkers."

  "Whoa." He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "Wait a minute, what are you talking about?"

  She swallowed. "The zombies, Trace. Can't you see it? I'm just like them." Saying the words made it feel more vile and, worst of all, concrete.

  Trace pulled her close and placed his palm against her chest. "I can feel your breath. I can feel your heart beating beneath my hand. The undead can't do either of those things."

  She pulled away from him and rose to her feet. He'd tethered his horse to a tree several yards away, but as she approached, the animal began to kick at the snow and pull against the rope in an attempt to free itself. Even though she expected the horse to behave that way, it hurt to see it played out. She didn't go any closer, not wanting to distress the horse any more than she already had.

  "So why does every animal react this way to me now?"

  Red turned around and waited for him to reply, but he didn't. His eyes danced from her to the horse and back again.

  "Do you want to know how I killed them all? It was actually quite easy." A chill ran up the length of her back and she shivered. "I walked right into the middle of them. They brushed their rotting limbs against me as though I wasn't even there. I was within inches of them and they did nothing."

  Trace stood and closed the distance between them. He took both her hands in his and led her away from the agitated horse. "You're telling me you walked among them and they didn't do anything?"

  She nodded, hesitant. "I killed them, but I had no reason to. None at all. They didn't attack me. They didn't even notice me."

  He pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest. "You're not like them, Elisabeth. You wouldn't be holding me like this if you were."

  She pressed her face into his jacket and sobbed. Her shoulders quaked and trembled, and he held her tight.

  "Your heart beats. Your mind thinks. Your soul feels." He kissed the top of her head. "If you were like them, you'd be trying to eat me right now."

  She tried to pull away from him, but he tightened his hold.

  "Whatever change occurred to make the walkers believe you aren't worth eating is more remarkable than you can imagine. I don't know how it happened, but Elisabeth"—he lifted her chin and looked into her eyes—"you have the ability to do something no one else can do. And that's pretty damn impressive."

  "I don't want this. I don't even know if I
can control it. Because, I feel it." She pointed toward her chest, to the spot where the monster lived. "I can feel it inside, pushing me to do things I don't want to do. If I stay, I might hurt you."

  "You won't."

  "Trace, you don't know that."

  "Yes I do. I know you. You're not like the undead, no matter what you may think."

  "But I also know I'm not like you, or Caroline, or Wen either. I'm different."

  Trace released his breath with a slight chuckle. "From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that was true."

  "I'm serious."

  "I am, too." He wrapped his hands around her waist, pulled her body against his, and bent his mouth next to her ear. "I'm not leaving you. I can't do it. So don't bother asking me to."

  "You're making a mistake—"

  "This is not a mistake. Nothing has ever felt more right in my life."

  His hand flattened against her back and she folded into him, inhaling his scent. "What if you're wrong?"

  "I'm not."

  "How can you be certain?"

  "Nothing is certain. That's the way life is, and what makes each day interesting." He cupped her face again. "I don't know what tomorrow's gonna bring, or the day after that. But right now, I'm asking you, Elisabeth Story Monroe, to choose me. I promise you that as long as we're together, everything else will work itself out."

  "I want to believe you, but—"

  "No. No buts. Just believe."

  Trace kissed her forehead, then released her and took a step back. He held his hand outstretched, leaving her with a decision to make.

  She didn't know if she could control the monster that lived inside her. It was so new, so foreign, and the idea of hurting the people she loved terrified her. Her mind whirled with indecision. No matter what choice she made, she'd hurt someone either way.

  "It would be easier if you let me go."

  "No, it wouldn't." He kept his hand stretched out between them. "It wouldn't be easy at all, and you know that."

  She stood motionless. To take a step forward would require more bravery, more trust, than she could muster.

  "Come on, Red." He lowered his arm just a little. "I can't do this without you, and I know you don't want to do this on your own—not when you have me. Just take my hand."

  Red squeezed her eyes closed. Her heart begged her to take his hand, hold onto it, and never let go. She wanted to trust him, but how could she do that when she didn't even trust herself?

  "I don't know what to do," she whispered.

  "You sure about that?"

  A hint of mockery met her ears, and she opened her eyes, desperate to understand how he could be so certain, when she felt as though she might implode.

  He stood dangerously close to her, their chests nearly touching and their breath tangled up together. The space that had separated them just moments before no longer existed.

  Trace smiled as he squeezed her hand. He hadn't moved an inch.

  The only footprints in the snow belonged to her.

  ~~~THE END~~~

  About the Author

  I hear voices. Tiny fictional people sit on my shoulders and whisper their stories in my ear. Instead of medicating myself, I decided to pick up a pen, write down everything those voices tell me, and turn it into a book. I'm not crazy, I'm an author.

  For the most part, I write contemporary Young Adult novels. However, through a writing exercise that spiraled out of control, I found myself writing about zombies terrorizing the Wild Wild West—and loving it. My zombies don't sparkle, and they definitely don't cuddle. At least, I wouldn't suggest it.

  I live on the benches of the beautiful Wasatch Mountains with two lovely children, one teenager, and a very patient husband. I graduated from Utah State University with a B.A. degree in English, not because of my love for the written word, but because it was the only major that didn't require math. I can't spell, and grammar is my arch nemesis. But they gave me the degree, and there are no take-backs.

  As a child, I never sucked on a pacifier; I chewed on a pencil. I've been writing for that long. For the past few years, I've pursued it professionally, forged relationships with other like-minded individuals, and determined to make a career out of it.

  You can find me at my website (http://www.WhimsyWritingAndReading.weebly.com), where I blog obsessively about my writing process and post updates on my current works. I'm also on Twitter (@whimsywriting) and Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/AngelaScottWriter), but be forewarned—I tweet and post more than a normal person.

  Coming Soon

  This Upper YA/Women's Fiction adventure, a sequel to the critically-acclaimed Desert Rice, is coming from Evolved Publishing on January 15, 2013.

  ~~~~~

  Bodies have a canny way of finding Samantha Jean Haggert—the first, the dead body of her mama; the second, a naked man in the middle of the Arizona desert. For Sam, dealing with one dead body in her lifetime was more than unfair. Two is downright cruel.

  Seven years after running from West Virginia, Sam's now a young woman of nineteen, trying to put the pieces of her life together with the help of her family—Jacob, Boone, and Laura. But the naked man in the desert spirals her world out of control, resurrecting past hurts and revealing old secrets. It also pits against one another the two men who vie for her heart: Carson, her friend, her first kiss, and the one man who knows everything about her past and loves her despite it; and Turner, the stranger who knows nothing, but who excites and frustrates her all at once.

  When bad choices made as a child lead to more bad choices as a young adult, Sam finds herself at a crossroads, forced to face her demons head-on if she plans to have any future at all—with Carson, with Turner, or with anyone. But fixing the wrongs of the past takes time, and learning to forgive one's self is damn near impossible.

  Visit old friends in this harrowing sequel to Desert Rice, in which award-winning author Angela Scott brings back the characters so many readers have loved.

  Also from Angela Scott

  SURVIVOR ROUNDUP

  Book 2 of the Zombie West Series

  This Young Adult Romantic Zombie Western, a sequel to the award-winning Wanted: Dead or Undead, is now available at Amazon.

  ~~~~~

  Red always knew she would have to face the man who nearly destroyed her. She just didn’t figure it would happen so soon....

  With the plague sweeping across the nation, destroying many and turning others into walking corpses, survivors head West in search of a chosen land, a place designed to keep the infected out, while sealing survivors inside. In theory, the idea seems the only way to keep humanity alive. In practice, it doesn’t matter whether a person is on the inside or the out—there is no humanity.

  ...And even though John Gatherum hunted her down and instigated their reunion, Red’s no longer the passive girl he once manipulated. This time, she has a hidden agenda of her own.

  Kill him. Save her family. Save herself.

  ~~~~~

  SPECIAL PREVIEW: Chapter 1 – Spring Thaw

  Moans and agitated cries intensified with the rising of the new sun. The walking dead grew more active as the day warmed their bones and thawed their warped brains. It had become so commonplace over the past several months, like the crowing of a rooster at dawn, that Red hardly noticed the difference—until the scratching and digging at the walls became more chaotic, more desperate.

  "Something's wrong." She untangled herself from Trace's arms, waking him in the process, and climbed from bed. "Do you hear it? They're louder today."

  Trace pushed himself into an upright position, and cocked his head to the side. "You're right. Something's up." He tossed back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

  As he scrambled for his boots, Red yanked her shawl off a nearby chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Get Wen and find out what's going on. I'll check on the kids."

  She opened the door and nearly stumbled into the man she had just mentioned. Wen's hand hung in th
e air as if about to knock.

  "I was just coming to get you." Trace grabbed the rifle propped against the footboard. "Guess you heard it, too. We need to climb the towers and see what the ruckus is about."

  Wen made no motion that indicated he heard Trace one way or the other. He didn't even lower his close-fisted hand, but kept it raised. His dark eyes were wide and flicked from Red to Trace and back again. An ashen color coated his natural olive skin.

  "What is it?" Red asked. "What's going on?"

  Wen shook his head and swallowed. "It's Caroline. The baby... it's time."

  Red's hands fell heavy to her sides, releasing her hold on the shawl. "Are you sure?"

  "The pain is getting worse."

  She took two steps back, away from Wen, and cast her eyes at Trace. They all knew the baby would be born early spring, yet no one had discussed a plan for its birth.

  "She wants you." Wen pointed at Red.

  Dozens of nails continued to rake against the fort walls, filling the silence as both men looked to her. Red's hands trembled and she hid them away. The undead she could handle; birth terrified her.

  "Why me?"

  Trace shrugged. "Hell, Red, you're a girl. She's a girl. You probably know better than us how these things work."

  "No, I don't." She once again tightened her hold on her shawl and pulled it closer. "Being a girl doesn't mean I know anything about delivering babies." Blood. There's bound to be lots of it.

  "Please, Red—"

  "I can't." She squeezed her eyes shut. I just... can't."

  "Why are you doing this?" Wen stepped toward her.

  Without opening her eyes, but feeling his presence, she moved back.

  "Caroline needs you!"

  "Come on, Red," Trace said. "You've killed hundreds of walkers all on your own. Delivering a baby will be nothing."

  Red's eyes flew open and she locked her gaze on him. "If you think it's so easy then you do it!"

  "Whoa! Wait a minute." He held his hands out in front of him. "You know it's different for a man. Guys shouldn't be anywhere... near there. It's not our place."