Waking Up Dead eodl-1

by Emma Shortt

  Pete’s words rung in his ears—we head straight back out—competing with the things Jackson had told him. How badly she had wanted to find safety. The fact she had walked for years on the slim chance that there might be something more. And yet as the minutes ticked by, as he thought about Pete’s words and Jackson’s behavior the whole time he’d known her, his certainty that she was somewhere in camp began to wane.

  Images filled his head as he walked past another trio of houses. Images he’d never really even considered before. The rubbing of the blade’s wooden hilt over and over again—probably she didn’t even know she was doing it most the time. It was obsessive. Like the actions of someone with OCD in the old world. The emotionless look in her eyes as she cut through zombie flesh. Luke had never seen her scared or even angry when she had beheaded them. Sure, beforehand, maybe even afterward, but during? No. She locked it all away and just did what she had to do. And the lack of sleep—four hours a day, at most. Surely no one could live on such little rest forever, not without some sort of effect?

  She’s good at this life. Why hadn’t he realized that before?

  “Sorry, didn’t see you there…oh…”

  Luke turned the corner to see a tall, skinny, gray-haired dude dodge out of his way, a pile of papers in his hands, a pen hanging out of his mouth.

  Dr. Sebastian in the flesh.

  “Not a problem,” he told the doctor, his jaw practically grinding. Keep calm. “I’m Luke, by the way.”

  “Ah,” Sebastian said, pushing the pen into the front pocket of his shirt. It was such a geek gesture that Luke wanted to roll his eyes. The guy was like a fucking walking cliché. The gray hair, the abstract air to him. Really he only needed a pair of glasses to be the epitome of a man of science. “Yes, Luke. Of course. It’s good to meet you.”

  He held out a hand, which Luke took. The other man had a firm grip and Luke raised an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn’t expected that.

  “I’m glad I’ve bumped into you, actually,” Luke said and Sebastian dropped his hand.

  “If it’s a medical issue, you’re better going to Layla,” Sebastian said, taking a step back. “She’s a fully qualified nurse, and I only deal with our major injuries.”

  Luke shook his head. He was fit and even the hole on his stomach was beginning to turn a dull pink now, the skin stretched taut across where the wound used to be. Jackson had taken the stitches out for him two weeks ago. She’d done a poor, poor job of it, but Luke had not complained. He never did when she had her hands on him.

  “Not a medical issue,” he said. “I’m just wondering. Someone mentioned you were with Jackson earlier and I wanted to know where she is.”

  Sebastian shifted and moved the papers he was holding from hand to hand. “Last I saw she was heading for the main house.”

  “I checked there.”

  “Oh, well I headed back to my room after,” Sebastian said, finally settling on which hand to hold them in. “So I don’t know. She’s probably here somewhere, though. It’s not like there’s anywhere else for her to go is there?” He ended on a laugh and Luke’s eyes widened as he took in the doctor’s feeble attempt for a joke.

  “Right…”

  “Maybe check your room again?” Sebastian suggested. “She’s probably waiting for you there.”

  “Will do.”

  The doctor nodded, muttered something unintelligible, and strode off in the opposite direction to the way he’d been going. Luke shook his head and let the other man go, before turning and heading back to their room. Hoping to God Jackson had actually returned.

  As angry and worried as he was, when Luke approached their room he opened the door slowly so Jackson wouldn’t be startled. Relief—pure, unadulterated relief—filled him as Jackson turned from where she’d been unlacing her boots and shot him a smile. It seemed both happy and relieved—and maybe a little bit guilty. He couldn’t help but notice she’d reached out for her machete too.

  “Hey,” she said, “you all done?”

  A million thoughts hit Luke then—each wavering for prominence. Pete’s words of warning. Her flushed face and sparkling eyes. He closed the door and leaned against the closet, taking a deep breath as he did so. She was back, that was the main thing, safe and well. The rest could wait for just a fucking moment.

  “Where have you been?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm, but realized almost immediately that actually the words sounded the demand all by themselves. They hardly needed a tone to make them worse.

  She frowned and tilted her head. “Finding something to do, of course. It took way longer than I thought. I’m so sorry I’m late. I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “I did worry though,” he said. “I thought we were going to meet at midday? I came to find you, but you were nowhere to be found.” He knew he sounded ridiculous. Like some sort of possessive idiot, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

  “Oh, well. I got kinda busy,” she said, kicking one unlaced boot off before making a start on the other. “It took longer than I thought it would. I’m sorry, Luke.”

  “I’ve been looking everywhere. I was worried about you.”

  She frowned and shifted. “Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. You know I’d never do that on purpose.”

  “You did though, Jack,” he said. “I’ve been fucking panicking.” Deep breath. Don’t get worked up.

  “About what?” she asked. “What did you think would happen?”

  He growled, his anger increasing with her words. Had it really not occurred to her that he’d be concerned? That after their weeks together he’d want to make sure she was okay? Ah but you left her this morning, his mind whispered, you went first. He told it to shut the fuck up.

  “Luke?” she prompted. “Do you think there’s something off about the camp? Are they planning to feed us to the zombies?”

  He started and shook his head. “No. Of course not. It’s fine. Everyone’s good. But Christ, Jack, I checked everywhere. We live in the world of the dead. Many things could’ve happened. I surely don’t need to list them for you because it all kind of starts and ends in one. Zombie.”

  “You keep telling me we’re safe here,” she said slowly. “And you encouraged me to go out and about and find something to do.”

  “Yes…” Fuck. She was totally twisting his words and Luke scowled, his mind a whirr of confusion, before latching onto the only thing he really had to complain about. “I thought we were going to meet at midday?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Like I said, I am sorry. I tried to get back here in time but it was just madness. But I’m here now.”

  She stepped forward, her movements accentuating the sway of her hips and Luke groaned inwardly. Now was not the time for this. He wanted to know what the hell she’d been up to!

  “Jack—”

  “I’ll tell you about it later, okay? For now, how about you put your arms around me?”

  Luke rubbed a hand through his hair and tried to hold onto the anger. Jackson had to realize that she had to consider him, just as he’d resolved to consider her. “We need to talk first,” he insisted. “About what happened today. About what you were up to.”

  She shook her head. “No, we don’t. Not yet.”

  “But what have you been doing? Why were you so late? What did you find to do?”

  She closed the distance between them, tilting her head to look into his eyes.

  “Later. I need this right now, Luke. Take me in your arms, please.”

  How could he possibly refuse that? With a sigh, Luke reached forward and pulled her the last foot or so to him. She was so slight that his arms completely enveloped her.

  “I need to know.”

  “After,” she said.

  “You’ll tell me,” he insisted and she nodded.

  That was all he was going to get right now. It would have to do. Luke pushed all the other thoughts from his mind, concentrating instead on the feel of Jackson’s lips as soon as his touc
hed hers.

  Soft. Always so soft. He moved against them, holding them within his own. Jackson moaned slightly and his tongue lightly brushed against hers—just the way he knew she liked it. Jackson responded by tugging at the hem of his tee, and he allowed her to lift it up, pulling apart only so she could push it over his head. He did the same to hers, before dragging her vest off until they were both naked from the waist up.

  “I want you, Luke,” she whispered and his whole body thrummed in anticipation even as he called himself all sorts of a fool for falling for her wiles. But she tied him in knots. Had done since he’d seen her purple panties running down the street.

  “Immediately.”

  He lifted her, she wrapped her legs around him, and he carried her to the bed, where he gently deposited her. She reached for the button of her jeans, undoing them in one quick movement and he mirrored her actions. Eyes fixed on one another they each removed the last of their clothing until nothing remained between them.

  “I dreamed about this,” Luke said, kneeling in front of her.

  “Us?” she asked.

  “Yes, but this exactly. Seeing you on a bed, spread out before me. Nothing to worry about, nothing to hurry for.”

  She smiled and held out a hand. “It’s not the first time we’ve christened this bed, babe.”

  “I know,” he agreed. “But last night was fast and frantic. We were both desperate weren’t we?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Besides it seems like days ago,” he added. “The hours pass far too quickly when nothing is jumping out from the shadows.”

  “The shadows are still here.”

  “Not right now.”

  “No, maybe not.”

  “And it’s the first time without Mandy under the pillow,” he whispered, wondering even to himself why that seemed important.

  Her eyes flicked to the weapon and she frowned ever so slightly. “Just this once, Luke, because I worried you, I promise to leave it there and not to even think about it.”

  “Just you and me, Jack,” he said. “Let it just be about us. Not about the dead or the world. Just let me love you.”

  She shivered beneath him. He could actually see her pale skin move and Luke’s heart thumped harder than it ever had before. Both before the end of the world and after. I know what this is…

  “Come here then,” she whispered. “Just us. I promise. Just me and my Luke.”

  Yes, he knew what it was. It was clear and obvious to him now. Why the hell else had he been so frantic for her? So worried about Pete’s words. So worried full fucking stop. He loved Jackson. The kind of love that a man waits for. The kind of love that nothing can ever really put a stop to. Not even a horde of zombies or the end of the goddamn world.

  But even as he leaned forward and kissed the smile from her perfect lips, turning it instead into a sigh of pleasure, he knew something else. Though he knew it through and through, from the tips of his toes to the ends of his hair, Jackson did not.

  …

  After two years of what had to be the closest to hell a person could ever get, the only peace Jackson had ever found was in Luke’s arms, and she needed it now more than ever. Because today she’d found out that the struggle and the pain and all the other stuff was not at an end, not even close.

  It was just beginning.

  She sighed as Luke’s lips left hers and pressed against her neck—one of her most sensitive areas. Closing her eyes tightly, Jackson pushed away the thought of Two-h-ee, concentrating instead on the way Luke’s touch made her feel. Because what else could make her forget, even if only for a little bit? Nothing but Luke, of course, only he had the ability to make the worries recede.

  Guilt battled with the pleasure. The guilt of leaving him to worry and wonder. Jackson resolved never to do so again. Luke would always know where she was from here on in. Not because she was obligated to, or because Luke demanded it, but because it was the right thing to do. Because he deserved that from her, that and so much more.

  “I love the taste of you,” Luke whispered. “Even when we were running for our lives and showering was—how shall I put it?—infrequent, you tasted so good.”

  “What do I taste like?” she wondered.

  “Like Jackson.”

  His lips fired her nerve endings. One slight touch against her neck and the most delicious shivers made their languid way along her collarbone and down through her belly. And then he moved, kissing another spot and this time the shivers zipped around her neck down her spine, centering right at the bottom and radiating out. How could she describe them? Like the kisses were actually inside, under her skin, but superfast, running and racing and sizzling. Jackson sighed and lifted a hand to hold onto the back of Luke’s head. His hair ran through her fingers, soft and silky.

  “Luke,” she said. “Let me feel you against me.”

  His breath fanned against the cool spots he’d just kissed and he laughed softly. “I’ll crush you, you’re so skinny.”

  “I want to feel you,” she insisted.

  “How is it you can make me do whatever you want?” he asked.

  “Can I?”

  “I think so. If you tried.”

  “Then do this.”

  He lowered himself, proving his point, until his whole body covered her, holding his weight on his elbows. Jackson sighed as his skin touched hers. Chest hair brushing against her nipples, his muscled arms against her sides, holding her in place. Then too she could feel the length of him between her legs and she smiled, because soon she would feel him inside of her and it would feel like nothing else in the entire world could. It would brush away all the worries about Sebastian and his crazy, amazing, plans for just a little while—plans that she had a nasty suspicion she was inexorably linked to. Because how could she walk away? The questions that had plagued her for the past two years could be answered now. Sebastian could answer them and she was too damn curious not to let him.

  She was trapped.

  By him.

  By herself.

  Worse, by the zombies still.

  “So pretty,” Luke breathed. “I could spend hours just looking at you.”

  Jackson sighed, letting Luke’s words carry away the thoughts of Seb and the dead and anything else. “You’d get bored.”

  “Never.”

  He moved his lips to her ear, pressing little feathery kisses, and she moaned, practically melting into the fucking bed. “No, no, no,” she said. “Not the ear.”

  But he did, licking his way up and down the lobe until Jackson had to press her thighs around him, holding him in place, shifting beneath him, wanting, needing more.

  He tugged on the end of her lobe and she pulled her head to the side. The sensations were too exquisite. They made her feel frantic inside, almost unbearable. A gentle hand brought her back to center and Luke took her mouth. His lips completely wrapping up her own, devouring everything she had to give. His tongue danced in and she chased it back into his own mouth, he doing the same, over and over until they were both panting. And then with one slight movement, one difference in the angle, he slipped into her. Jackson gasped and arched her hips, wrapping her arms tightly around him, reveling in the feel of him on top of her, in her, around her.

  She was completely consumed in Luke and she loved it.

  He drew out before moving oh so slowly back in. Jackson tightened her thighs and moved with him. Together in and out, back and forth. His length worked her, pulling along her nerves and making her entire body clench.

  “Jackson,” he groaned. “I…”

  The inner kisses started to chase through her body all over again but this time they were far more intense. Sizzling up her spine and scorching along her thighs. Burning her entire body and she moaned, before realizing Luke was speaking.

  “What is it, Luke? What?”

  He shook his head, making other parts shake and moved again. “Nothing…”

  She kissed the nothing away from his lips. Tiny kisses that
ran across the flesh and along his jawline. She threaded her hands in his hair before moving down to his back. Slight scars raised under her fingers and Jackson trailed along them, caressing them.

  He groaned again as she settled each hand over his lower back, pushing him into her, positioning him just as she liked. Over and over, again and again they moved, and Jackson forgot what she meant or even what he meant, it was all lost in the fire, all consumed by the scorch, and throughout she didn’t look at Mandy.

  Not even once.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  She might have been sleeping. Luke wasn’t sure. On the off chance that she actually was, he crept out of bed slowly, trying to remain as quiet as possible. He paused for just a moment at the foot of the bed, he kinda couldn’t help himself, and looked down at her tousled form. Her short, spiky hair framed her delicate face. It was slightly damp and he imagined how it would look falling in waves down her back. Beautiful, no doubt. But that was the old Jackson. This was the new, and this Jackson was his. The spiky hair was beautiful in its own way.

  He padded across the room, the peace he felt after their lovemaking warring with his previous worries and Luke sighed. Not now. Just leave me for a little bit, damn you.

  It was startlingly bright out and he pushed the curtain aside to look around. A few people walked back and forth but all looked fairly calm. Nothing was amiss. Whatever had allowed that zombie to get in seemed to have been dealt with. He hoped so, at least. Jackson would not begin to relax until she felt marginally safe. Though whether the camp was going to be safe enough for her, he didn’t know.

  Where was she? What was she doing? Why do I get the feeling that I don’t want to know? The thoughts assailed him and Luke gritted his teeth as he opened the bathroom door. He used the toilet—one that actually flushed—washed his hands, and then ran some water over his face. It was icy cold and that was welcome. The heat at this time of day was particularly brutal and he could understand why the rest of the camp paused and why both he and Jackson had been slick with sweat by the time they had finished.