by Emma Shortt
He felt her orgasm. Felt her muscles clenched around him, begging him to drive deeper. With one last thrust he did, coming, too. The amazing orgasm blocked everything but the feel of his body finally shooting into her, all the anger and stress pumping out, singeing his brain with endorphins.
For one perfect moment nothing existed in Luke’s mind but the pleasure Jackson gave him, and the pleasure he gave her. They held on to one another, their breathing ragged, their hearts beating a steady tattoo in perfect unison.
And then it was over…and they looked into each other’s eyes, and they laughed.
Chapter Twenty-two
“So planning to have your way with me every night, are you?” Luke asked.
From her position on the passenger seat, with her legs draped over him, the morning sun lighting up the barn, Jackson smiled. “Probably.”
“You’ll wear me out.”
“Of course I will.”
He smiled too. They both did. Their smiles egged each other on, and it was ridiculous but Jackson felt happy. Happy! An emotion she’d long since relegated to the scrap heap. Maybe it was due to the orgasm? It had been pretty incredible, and with it, Jackson had felt months of tension drain from her shoulders—not completely of course, but the amount of drainage was good. All due to the endorphins. Something she’d been sadly lacking for so long.
“I’m on top next time,” he said. “I am the man after all. I should get some control over things.”
The smile creased his face, and his very blue eyes twinkled. Jackson thought for the millionth time how she’d have totally dated him pre-dead people. If she’d served him a drink, or saw him in Macy’s she’d have done something. A hello, a smile, maybe he’d have offered her his number or taken hers. And they’d have dated, and then who knew what?
It pained her for a moment to think that Luke would never meet the woman she once was. Would never get to see what had been some of her best qualities. He’d gotten Jackson the independent bad-ass, not Jackson the smiling, carefree girl. The world did indeed suck at times.
“You let me have so little control over everything else.”
“You think?” she asked.
“I think…” He paused, his smile dying, to be replaced with something else. Something intense and Jackson found herself holding her breath. “I think I’m very lucky to have met you, Jack. That the way you make me feel is something pretty damn special. More so than before the zombies, because it is so unexpected now.”
Jackson sucked in a shocked breath. She hadn’t expected that. She’d expected them to tease and laugh with each other, not to talk about their feelings, but then hadn’t Luke been unexpected from the very beginning?
She shifted a little, not sure how she felt about the whole “bare all-athon.” It was way outside of her comfort zone and she didn’t quite know what to say.
“I—”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly, as if, as always, he’d read her mind. “I’m not asking for a declaration here, babe. But time is so often…not short…but unknown, I guess. And if something were to happen to me, I want you to know that this past month has really been something.”
“Nothing will happen to you.” The very thought was enough for Jackson’s heart to clench in on itself and panic to wind its way up her spine. She couldn’t imagine the journey without Luke. Not now. Not when they were so close. It had been a mere blink in time, yet she felt like they’d spent months together. That they’d been watching each other’s backs forever. More than that though, she knew that the chances of getting to safety without him were slim, and even more than that, she didn’t want to. Going it alone now was not even an option. The reality of it scared her but it was there all the same.
Can’t give away any independence… But even as the thought formed Jackson knew it was too late. She had given a little just yesterday when the zombie pulled her to the ground, but she’d gotten a lot back, hadn’t she?
“Nothing is allowed to happen to you,” she said slowly, forcing her mind around the thought of losing Luke like she had Tye, and though it made her feel awful for thinking it, she knew losing Luke would hurt much more. Tye had been her friend. He’d often annoyed the hell out of her but she had cared for him and had grieved for his loss. Wondered still where he might be. The way she felt about Luke was something else entirely. Jackson knew she wouldn’t be able to put him in the same compartment as the other companions she’d lost.
“We’re both going to get to Laredo. Safe and well.”
“We will,” he agreed.
“Well then. Don’t say things like that,” she chided.
“Jack—”
“It has been special to me too,” she said quickly. The words leaving her before she could even think to hold them back. Because Luke was right. Who really knew how much time they had? They could both be eaten today, or both be dead, properly dead, before tomorrow. Now, more than ever, was not a time to play games or to act coy. Now was the time to be honest. To put aside all the previous conditioning, simply accept the feelings, and then share them.
“I’ve felt more normal with you than I have with anyone,” she continued, blurting the words out. “Even though we’re not safe at all and the world’s a complete fuckup. But it’s not about proximity of the dead, or likelihood of being eaten. It’s just you. You make me feel like I’m the old me, at times, even though I’m not at all… Am I even making any sense?”
Luke nodded. “No. But yes. A contradiction, Jack. Which is what you are. One huge contradiction. The woman and the bad-ass. If I had weeks and weeks more, I don’t think I’d ever quite figure you out.”
“I like you a lot, Luke,” she said. “That’s all you need to figure.”
And he laughed before answering her in a solemn sort of voice. “I like you a lot, too, Jack.”
The happiness expanded then, until Jackson was sure it inhabited very pore of her being. She shook and shivered, shocked by it. The desire to be at the camp now, to have attained their goal assailed her, and she reached out to run a finger along Luke’s jaw line.
“My mom used to teach ballet classes,” she said softly. “She tried to teach me but I failed so bad. I could never get my head around the moves. She’d take me with her every single week, and even though I was so awful, she kept me there. In the end my dad had to have a quiet word with her and suggest that perhaps ballet was not my thing.”
“Jack,” Luke breathed. “You don’t have to—”
“I found out later,” she continued, taking a deep breath, “that she didn’t care I was so awful. She took me because she wanted there to be something we could share. My brothers went to kickboxing with my dad, they were awesome, and so she wanted this to be our thing.”
“And was it?” Luke asked.
Jackson smiled. “No. But that did not stop my mom. She was determined! She took me to God knows how many other classes, one after the other. We finally found one we both liked, and really, when you think about it, I have her to thank that I’m still alive.”
“What was it? The class?”
“Akido. I may have only spent a year or so doing it, I may have been a kid, but I think perhaps those moves came back to me when I most needed them. Almost like my mom was there protecting me. She died long before all of this, both my parents did.”
“She sounds like a remarkable woman,” Luke said.
“She’d still be alive,” Jackson whispered. “There’s no doubt in my mind about that. And she would have done whatever was necessary to find safety. She would not have stopped until she found a way to make everything right again.”
He reached out and took her hand, planting a little kiss on the palm. “You’re like her then.”
“I was always more like my dad…like my brothers…you have no idea how much I miss them all.” Her voice cracked on the last word and Jackson clamped her lips shut.
“I know how hard it was for you to tell me that,” Luke said. “But as time goes on it will be easier
. I promise, Jack, much easier.”
“It never gets easier.”
“That was because you weren’t with me before.”
“Is that right?”
He kissed her palm again and Jackson shivered. “We fit. We work. We would have even if the world didn’t end.”
“I want to get to safety,” she whispered. “I want us to be able to lie on a bed somewhere and sleep at the same time and know that we don’t have to keep watch. I want us to walk out and about, holding hands, not guns. I mean, obviously I will keep watch because that would just be stupid, and I’d have Mandy still, but…”
He nodded slowly, interrupting her babbling.
“I get what you mean. Though you’ve never struck me as a hand-holding kinda girl.”
“A time or two.”
“Then that’s the first thing we’ll do when we get there.”
“And if we don’t?” she asked, all seriousness now. “If the south is as overrun as up north? If there’s no camp in Laredo? There’s no safety but in our minds? What then, Luke? What will we do?”
It was the first time she’d asked him that question, the first time she’s suggested that it might not all be as she wanted. But Luke did not mention that. He simply nodded slowly, ruffled her hair, and smiled.
“Then we’ll have each other,” he said moving forward for another kiss, maybe more, “and Jack, there’s no doubt you’d look fucking fantastic with a tan.”
Chapter Twenty-three
The little girl sat on the edge of the sidewalk, the place where the lawn of the house behind her was starting to overtake. She was dressed in a dirty white dress, with dirty white bows at the end of her braids, and held a patchwork doll under her arm.
Her head was lowered, her face shadowed, and she was perfectly still.
Luke slowed the car to a halt but kept it running. The sound of the motor ticking over the only noise beyond their rapid breathing. Finally, it was Jackson who broke the silence, her words soft and halting.
“Why is she so still?”
“I’m not sure,” Luke said, trying and failing to understand the sight in front of him. He swept the area carefully, taking in everything he could see. But the quiet, residential streets, baking in the afternoon sun, gave nothing away. A chill crawled down his spine all the same. It would be impossible to say how much was wrong with this situation beyond a lot.
Jackson shifted in her seat. “I thought for a moment there…”
“What?”
The little girl sat, unmoving, a mere fifty feet in front of them. Only the very slight breeze ruffled the lace of her dress.
She shifted again. “She almost looks normal.”
“You know she can’t be human,” he said softly. “Not after this long.”
An arm moved, the one holding the doll. The barest of a twitch but they saw it all the same. Luke waited, expecting more, but the arm remained in place.
“I’ve never seen a zombie so still,” Jackson whispered. “Especially not a child one. She can hear us, smell us. Her instinct alone should have her attacking.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know, but…”
“What?” Luke prompted.
“That dress looks weird,” Jackson said.
“Weird how?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. But after near on two years it should be much dirtier, ragged, but it’s not. I mean, how many naked zombies have we seen? And those braids, they look like they’ve just been done.”
“The dress has mud all over it.”
“But the patches without mud look clean. Like it’s fresh on but she got it messy. And she’s holding a doll, Luke. How many zombies have you ever seen holding dolls?”
“Meaning?”
“Either she’s only recently turned, or she’s still human.”
Luke sucked in a shocked breath. His mind instantly rejected what Jackson hinted at. “What you’re suggesting is impossible! Completely fucked-up.”
“A horde was impossible two weeks ago.”
He scanned the street again, his gaze going from building to building. He felt antsy and oddly panicked. He hadn’t wanted to come down this way in the first place, but it was, once again, the quickest route. They were just a few hours or so from Laredo, a few more miles. Surely nothing could stop them now?
Famous last words he thought and clenched the wheel tighter.
“Jackson,” he began, “there is no way in hell that girl is still human, and if she was, whoever is looking after her sure as hell wouldn’t let her play outside like a free meal.”
“It’s hotter here. The zombies might not come out.”
And it was hot. Luke agreed with that. The further south they traveled, the higher the temperature, especially this close to the border. They’d dispensed with their sweaters a while back and the sight of Jackson in only a vest was enough to put a smile on his face as they drove the long road south. It was enough to make him smile at night as well. As he held her. As they pleasured one another. Finding time, even in the horror, to love. But the waking dead, well, they were hungry and the heat would not be enough of a deterrent.
“They’d come,” he argued. “They’ll take the heat if it means food. Sure they’ll be slower and easier to kill, but still, slower hardly matters when there’s twenty odd of them.”
Jackson turned in her seat, squinting out at the small, still child. “So she must be one of them, then.” She didn’t sound convinced. “There’s no other explanation.”
“So we should go.”
“No. First we should check. If only to understand how she looks so pristine. Why those braids haven’t unraveled.”
Luke sighed at the resolve in her voice but said, “She’ll just try to kill us.”
“I know.”
“And then we’ll have to sever her head.”
Jackson sucked in a shocked breath, loud enough for him to hear, and jerked to look at him. “You’re seriously not suggesting we behead her? She’s just a child.”
“We have no choice, not if she tries to take a chunk out of us. You know that.”
“Yes…but…it’s just a kid.”
“I…” Luke paused, unsure how to continue. He’d had to take down more than one small zombie in his time, and though it had torn him up after, he’d had no choice. Logically he knew they were zombies, that they thought only of eating him, but he could also see where Jackson’s protest came from. The girl in front of them still looked like a child. The first instinct was to protect. Only she wasn’t really a child at all, and it would be stupid to forget that.
“She’s a zombie,” he said finally. “She’s no longer a child.”
“I know that,” Jackson said. “I don’t want to behead her though—call me a wimp if you will—but it feels wrong. I’ll sink Mandy through as many zombies as I can, but not children.”
Luke shook his head at the differences he once again saw in Jackson’s personality. Like her hands, soft and supple, yet deadly, she was now showing him something else. She had killed hundreds of the waking dead without so much as a murmur. He had watched mesmerized as she swung Mandy through limb after limb, but now, because this one still wore the skin of a child, she hesitated. He wanted to rally at her for being weak, but he knew deep down that it was not weakness. It was compassion, something she had buckets of underneath her hard exterior. “You realize that makes no sense.”
“Promise me, Luke.”
Luke gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the soft inflection of her voice. He was often helpless against it and she knew it, damn it!
“Fine, we won’t kill her. But we need to leave.”
“After we check,” she insisted. “Something feels off and it’ll bug me until I find out what. The dress, the hair, the doll…” She paused. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“You planning on asking her those questions yourself? As she tries to eat you?”
“I just want to look. Something isn’t right, Luke.
Please. Don’t make me beg or threaten.”
He growled. “Holy hell, Jack, we’re a few hours at most from the end goal. We don’t need this now. If something is wrong here, I don’t want us to get in the middle of it. Looking isn’t going to give you any answers.”
“Please, Luke,” she asked again, laying a gentle hand on his, and with that he was helpless to say no. She was so in sync with him! Their physical relationship only added to the mental one that was already well established. He had a nasty suspicion that she’d have been able to wrap him firmly around her finger in the prezombie world. Hell, he was barely hanging on now.
“Okay,” he said, “we’ll drive past slowly. As soon as we confirm she’s a zombie, we’ll gun it and go. Just in case.”
“We won’t behead her?”
“No.”
“Okay then.”
Slowly he pressed down on the gas, edging forward carefully. He intended to give the girl a wide berth, use the other lane. That way when she turned, snarled and came after them, he could get them away without breaking his promise to Jackson.
“Luke, wait…”
He eased off the gas and opened his mouth to say something but didn’t need to. It was obvious what was happening. As slowly as he’d pressed on the accelerator the girl rose. Her movements were smooth, not jerky, and as she stood, her dress fluttered around her knees.
“Oh my God,” Jackson breathed.
The child’s legs were tanned, ending in frilly white socks and black patent-leather shoes. Bit of mud clung to the lace, to her dress, her hair, but Jackson had been right. Underneath all that dirt there were no weeping wounds, no blood splatters—she looked like a normal little girl. She was a normal little girl.
For a moment Luke had no idea what to do. A human girl, alone, on a deserted street… How could it be?
“It’s a trap,” he whispered, knowing somehow that the words were true the moment he said them. “It can’t be anything else.”
The girl lifted her head then and her eyes found them. Bright blue eyes, in a muddy little face. No. Terrified blue eyes, in a human face. Tears tracked down her eyes, she shook her head, and then the little girl ran.
