“Whatever.” Nick rolled his eyes, turning so he could look out the window.
“Anyway, I’m not American, obviously. I’m English. My real name is Liam. But, please, continue to call me Henry. I don’t go by Liam, for more reasons than I want to discuss at the moment. I’m a Special Forces agent for the English government. Check that…I was an agent.” He was purposely leaving out some information, and I went with it.
“Perfect. A secret agent.”
I walked over to Nick and got between him and the window. I grabbed him by the shirt collar to get his attention. “You will shut the fuck up, and you will listen to Henry, or I will lock you outside and let the undeads have their merry way with you. Got it?” Nick rolled his eyes and nodded, but he wasn’t amused. “Tell me you understand.” I then looked around the room. “I want everyone here to understand. You aren’t going to go all batshit crazy on any of us. We’re all going to work together. We’re taking this on together. If anyone wants out, go now...without supplies.” Nick cleared his throat. I’m not sure if he believed my threat, but no one moved an inch. I had a feeling they would stay, knowing that we had weapons.
“Uh...I’m sorry, Henry. You’re in charge and I will follow your orders...humbly,” Nick grumbled, and everyone else agreed.
“Thank you.” I let go of him and went back to stand next to Henry.
“I owe you one, love. Anyway, this is a man-made, rapidly spreading virus that was somehow released into your country. All it needed was one host, and boom…it’s a bloody epidemic.” Claire shuddered. “I’m not going to stand here and apologize for all that has happened. We have to move forward and live in the now. If you are here, plan on staying here for the duration. We’re a team and I’m in charge. I will do my best to keep you safe, as you will do your best to keep yourselves safe.”
Nate got up and headed toward the door. “Uh…I didn’t sign up for this so I think I…”
Before Nate could finish his thought, Henry aggressively jumped toward him and got in his face. Angry Henry had returned. “You will sit the fuck down and listen! You’re stuck with us now. Elaina gave you your chance to leave. No one, not even me, signed up for this motherfucking bullshit.” I went and pulled Henry back before he made Nate piss himself.
“Right. Okay, okay. I’m sitting. Geez, you brute.” Nate readjusted his ill-fitting shirt.
“Sophie, another agent, is on her way and will be here in a few hours. She will also have a vehicle and an arsenal of weapons. You will respect her and follow her direction, as she will be second-in-command.”
I really hoped Roger’s behavior hadn’t rubbed off on him. I wasn’t sure if his behavior was for show, or if he was really bonkers. Claire raised her hand, tentatively, like she was in grade school. “Yes, Claire.”
“I have a question. Is there a cure?”
Henry sighed and looked down. “No. I’m afraid not.”
“Then what do we do?” Claire sounded like she was ready for revenge. I looked over at Henry.
“We fight it,” Henry said.
“Fight it?” Claire questioned.
“Yes.”
“Like what we did earlier? Kill people?”
“They aren’t people once they are exposed to the virus.”
“Do they die when they are exposed? We haven’t seen anyone turn yet.”
“I have,” Nick spoke up. “Jenna lost a lot of blood after she was bit by my father. Then she passed out…or died, I guess. I don’t know. I couldn’t wake her. I held her for a bit, then started to leave to find help. I got about twenty feet away when I heard some sort of moaning growl.” He took a deep breath. “She started to sit up. I ran to her and her eyes were this…this lifeless, putrid gray. I went to grab her and she lunged at me, mouth open.”
Everyone was fixated on Nick, still staring out the window while he told us what he saw.
Claire asked, “What was the time frame?”
Henry cleared his throat, getting our attention. “The change usually happens anywhere from five to fifteen minutes. There isn’t much time between bite, suspended animation, then reanimation. It truly depends on the wound. Plus, it’s very aggressive.”
“And you know all of this because…?” Nate seemed to be questioning Henry’s knowledge.
“Let’s just say I’m experienced with the change.” I almost got the feeling he wasn’t telling us something. Henry clapped his hands together before anyone else could interrupt him. “Alright. Well…the only thing left is weapons.”
He walked to the trunk and pulled out his keys. He opened it and started to display his arsenal of weapons. There was everything from small guns to shotguns, double-sided axes to different types of rifles.
Henry pulled out the shotgun that he had used earlier in the day. “This is a twelve gauge, pump-action Remington. It’s high-powered, has a decent recoil, and holds six plus one rounds.” He checked to make sure the shotgun was empty. “I’ll show you how to load it when we need it. You’ll need to find a wide stance and pump.” He put himself in a wide stance and showed us how to pump it. “Take aim quickly, and pull the trigger.” He raised the gun and pulled the trigger. Click. “You will need to pump before each shot.”
Then Henry grabbed a rifle. It was scary looking and he smiled when he picked it up. He was in his element. “This beauty is one of my favorites. It’s an H&K, and it has the ability to shoot seven hundred and fifty rounds per minute. If you hold down the trigger, you’ll blow through ammo. I ask that no one uses this unless you are experienced. I’d rather not spend my entire cache of ammo in one outing. It will only be used when we need high volume.”
Henry pulled out another rifle. Again, with a smile. I didn’t understand his joy over the weapons. “This is a sniper rifle. An AWS. It’s good for picking off the buggers at a distance. About three hundred meters. I have two of these. Again, I ask you to refrain from using this unless you have experience.”
Lastly, he pulled out several identical handguns. “These Sigs are what we will be using for the most part. They conceal nicely.” He turned around and lifted the back of his shirt. His Sig was neatly tucked into the back of his pants. “This is what I normally carry, and what I had at our wedding.”
Wait, normally carry? How did I miss that he had been carrying a gun?
He continued, “I have twenty round clips for each one of them. I do not have an unlimited supply of bullets, though. Until we can hit up a sporting goods store to grab more, we need to conserve as much as possible. That’s why we have these.” He picked up a couple of axes and knives.
“Those will make them dead dead?” asked Nate.
“You have to make sure you damage their brains with these. It will make the undeads true dead.”
“True dead?” Holy shit, not again.
“Yes, true dead,” Henry growled.
“I’ll take that gun, thank you.” Nate reached over to grab the shotgun. Henry reached out and grabbed his wrist with such speed, it amazed me. Nate whimpered in pain. I have a feeling if he squeezed his wrist any harder it would have snapped.
“You do not touch these unless I hand you one.”
“You just said we will get weapons.” Nate was really pissed.
“I will hand out what I think you can handle. And you, Mr. Fabulous, will not be able to handle that shotgun. It has a major kick. Got it?”
“How do you know what I can or cannot handle?” Nate snapped.
I sighed. I wish people would just shut the fuck up. I exhaled, at great length, in annoyance.
“I’m highly trained in weaponry. You just have to trust that I know what I’m doing.” He handed Nate a handgun. “You can start with this and, if I have time, I will train you all on the other ones.”
“Gee, thanks.” Nate shrunk back into the couch with his new, unwanted toy.
Henry glared at him. “Like I said, conserve. It’s late. Everyone try to get some rest. Sophie should be here in a couple of hours. Do not open the door for
her. Come and get me, and I will let her in.” Everyone nodded. “Now, Elaina and I are going to get some rest, and I suggest you do the same.” Henry turned and walked toward the bedroom.
Nick sarcastically saluted him.
“Nick, quit your shit.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Then give me your Sig and take a fucking hike.” I pointed at the door. Nick swallowed hard. I held out my hand, waiting.
“I’m only staying so I can protect you.”
“I can take care of myself, and if I can’t, Henry will.”
Nick looked defeated. “You don’t need me then.” He dropped his Sig in my hand and started for the door.
“Wait!” Claire yelled, and jumped up out of her seat. “Nick, don’t go. She may not need you to protect her, but she needs you here. You two could be the last of your family.” Her words grew quieter as she realized what she was saying. “Besides, I need you. I have no one to watch over me.”
I thought, Really, Claire? I do believe that Henry said, not that long ago, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to either one of us. I rolled my eyes.
“Right.” He looked down at his feet. “I’ll only stay if she wants me to then.” I was wondering if he was still processing what Claire said, or if he ignored it on purpose. I guess that was my cue to apologize, like a good sister.
“Please stay. I’m sorry. You’re my brother and I do love you.” Nick walked over and gave me a short, but tight, squeeze. He started reaching in his pocket and pulled out a quarter to determine who was sleeping on the couch.
“Call it, Nate,” he said, as he flipped the coin in the air.
“Tails, of course.” Nate smirked.
Nick showed me the quarter. “Darn. It’s heads.” He shrugged. It was tails. Nick was just trying to have some sort of control over something.
“Okay. Since all the sleeping arrangements have been made, I am going to bed. Don’t forget what Henry said.” Claire got up, and we both headed back. She put her arm around me and smiled.
“Make sure you get some sleep.” She winked at me. “Does Henry have any ear plugs I can borrow?”
I blushed. “I’m pretty sure we won’t be doing anything like that.”
We said goodnight to each other, and I headed to the bedroom, where Henry waited for me.
***
Henry closed the bedroom door, leaving the room lit only by the moonlight. As soon as he locked it, he jumped me. I didn’t care who he was. I still loved that man. His kisses made me feel excited and my nerves tingled from head to toe.
He pulled off his shirt and I ran my hands down his familiar, cool body. I knew he desperately wanted me. His breath caught in his throat as I ran my hands around the taut part of his jeans, where his thickness was demanding to make an appearance.
He peeled off my shirt and, in one move, unhooked my bra and threw it to the side. He picked me up and carried me to the bed. We dropped down together and he possessively pinned me down, rocking his hips into mine.
He rasped, “Let’s continue where we left off earlier.” He dove into my mouth, taking complete control. His strong, cool hands ran over my breasts, pausing for a moment. He released my mouth and took up shop at my swollen pink pretties. I moaned as his hands trailed down my abdomen. I took this opportunity to unbutton his jeans. Then, suddenly, he yanked my pants off.
“Henry...,” I whispered in his ear while he kissed my neck. I wrapped my hand around his thickness, and he groaned while I slowly stroked him.
He was panting as he looked me in the eyes. “I need you,” he growled, “right now.” He kicked off his pants. I wrapped my legs around his hips, giving him greater access. He sunk himself into my begging, slick core. I tried hard not to make a sound, but he felt so good in me…stretching me, filling me.
He groaned when I sunk my teeth into his shoulder. He began his usual assault, pounding himself into me. I rose faster than normal. He put his hand over my mouth to contain my sounds when I cried out and fiercely pulsated around him.
I loved his method. He knew exactly how to please me, but then he would slow down to make it delectable, one slow stroke at a time. He knew it drove me crazy, and always had great hopes of forcing me over the edge more than once. He wanted to hear me beg him.
“Henry...”
“Hmm...?” he groaned as he slowly pulled out. His eyes danced in the darkness.
“Please, Henry.”
“Please what, my love? Tell me what you want.” His accent made me buckle.
“More. I want more of you.”
“More?”
“Yes. Please.” He pulled out and flipped me over. I made myself as taut as I could as he slammed back into me. He moaned so loud, I was afraid someone would hear.
“Shit,” he said, as he paused. He groaned as I kept myself as tight as possible. He began his assault again. Deeper and harder he went. I gasped as he pounded against my inner limits. I felt like he was getting some of his aggression out on me, but I loved every second of it. His breathing changed.
I knew he was close and I clamped down on him. I could picture his face: biting his lower lip, his eyes rolling back, his jaw slack. He looked so goddamn sexy when he’d come.
“Oh, god, Elaina... fuuuuuck.” His ragged breath broke with a deep moan. I felt his juice spurt into me. He rested his forehead between my shoulder blades for a second to catch his breath.
After he pulled out, he fell on to the bed next to me. He pulled me into him, spooning me, and held me as he fell asleep. His soft snore tickled my ear. That should have been our first time together as husband and wife, but it wasn’t.
Minutes after he fell asleep, his mumbling began. He mumbled a lot in his sleep. Sometimes, he would cry out in pain. After our discussion, I had a feeling what he had nightmares about. It had to be about his beatings. He would never tell me what the nightmare was about when he woke up screaming. It made me pause, thinking about the abuse he endured throughout his life. I don’t even want to know how many times he was beaten. He had some scarring on his chest, arms, wrists, ankles, and back. Now I knew where they all came from.
I thought back to the first time I experienced his night terrors.
-November 2012-
We had only been together for a couple weeks, and Henry was twitching and mumbling in his sleep. Why could he never have a peaceful slumber? His breathing was ragged, and he let out painful moans. I rolled over and he was in a fetal position, holding on so tight that it looked like he was trying to hold himself together. His face was contorted in pain. I had to help him.
I stroked his hair and softly said his name, trying not to jar him awake. “Henry…” I stroked his cheek. He was in a cold sweat and shaking all over. “Henry…”
Then he let out this bloodcurdling scream. I jumped off the bed, as he launched himself from the bed, slammed into the wall, and cowered in the corner.
“Henry…” With hesitation, I walked toward him.
“Get away from me!” His face was frozen in fear, and his voice sounded funny. He had an accent.
“Henry, it’s me. Elaina. It’s okay.” I held out my hands and got down on the floor in front of him. “What’s wrong, lover?” His breathing was still ragged. “Talk to me.” I moved closer, being careful not to startle him. His pupils had taken over his eyes. There was only a hint of green around them.
“Get away from me!” He screamed in what sounded like a British accent.
“Henry, I’m not going to hurt you. Look at me.” I reached out and touched his face. He flinched. “Henry…” I cupped his cheek in my hand, and his face began to soften. “Are you okay?” His breathing slowed down and became more controlled. His eyes started to turn back to emerald, while they darted around the room, trying to get his bearings.
“Elaina? What…?” He looked around.
“I think you had a night terror, or bad dream. Are you alright now?”
“Yeah, I think so.” He began to stand up.
; “Henry, what’s going on? You’re scaring me. You were talking in a British accent.”
-October 2014-
Oh, my god. The British accent. I just thought it was some sort of weird dream state he was in at the time, but now it all clicked.
I began to cry about everything he endured throughout his life. It made my whole being ache, picturing him getting beaten to near death. I had to stop myself before I had a complete mental breakdown.
I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my father in the sights of my Sig. I tossed and turned, rocking Henry’s insomnia for a change. I stared out the window…thinking, contemplating. I hoped I didn’t disturb Henry because he didn’t look like he was resting too peacefully, but at least someone was getting some sleep.
As he continued to mumble, I kept thinking about where we should have been at that moment. We should have been on the beach, enjoying each other as husband and wife. What I wouldn’t give to turn back time. A knock on the bedroom door brought me back to the ever-growing, agonizing reality again.
“Elaina. Elaina, are you awake?” Claire. I hopped up and pulled on a t-shirt and pants. I opened the door and there she stood, looking like a mess. “I can’t sleep,” she whispered.
“Me, either.” I looked down at my feet and frowned. I looked back at Henry, who was still sleeping, and stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me. Claire wrapped her arms around me and started to cry.
“I can’t do this. I can’t. How am I supposed to get through this? Marc meant so much to me. I counted on him to keep me sane.”
“Hon, I don’t know. I wish I had the answers that you need to hear.” I stood there in the cool darkness and held her. The only thing that I could do was be there for her. “Let’s go in here.” I flicked the light switch on, forgetting the power was out, and we sat on the guest room bed in silence. We didn’t know what to say to one another.
“Has he told you all that he knows?” she asked. I sighed. I started to get antsy so I decided pacing would be better than sitting. Normally, I didn’t hide stuff from Claire, but I promised Henry I wouldn’t talk about his training and past life. “Elaina, you know more, don’t you?”
Broken Dreams Page 13
