Daisy and the Dead
Page 9
Ten feet wasn’t very far in the grand scheme of things, but it hurt like a motherfucker when I landed, a sharp pain shooting through my ankles. Juan helped me to my feet and we waited for Elijah. I tested my limbs while we waited, making sure I hadn’t broken anything.
Elijah reached the edge of the roof and swung his legs over. Oh my god. He was going to jump! I opened my mouth to protest, but he was already on his way down. He landed on the ground with a loud thud that made my eyes water in sympathy. Juan and I helped him to his feet and he moaned, leaning heavily on me for support.
“Now we need to get to the barn, if it hasn’t burned down,” Juan said as we creeped forward.
“What’s in the barn?”
“Hopefully the getaway car.”
We reached the edge of the building and I peered around the corner. Slaughtered animals were everywhere I and gasped as a zombie feasted on a fallen horse.
“The barn’s still up. I don’t see any humans.”
That was all they needed to know.
Juan must have seen through my act because he said, “I’ll go first.”
He pushed past me and cursed.
I let Elijah use me as a crutch and he said, “That bad, huh?”
I nodded. Together we followed Juan toward the barn.
“Where is everyone?”
I didn’t want to jinx us, but come on… where in the hell was everyone?
“They’ve taken everything they could so there isn’t a reason to stick around to see the dead invade,” Juan said.
Juan opened the barn door and relief spread throughout my body when I saw Elijah’s black car sitting there, intact.
“Key’s on the beam,” Elijah said as he climbed into the backseat.
I knew he was about to pass out again. I closed the door behind him and got in the passenger’s side while Juan got the key. He patted the beam and then his face lit up with joy. He held the key up and rushed over to the car. The engine started and Juan peeled out from the barn, hitting a zombie as we left.
I kept my pistol in my lap, unable to relax. We had two gates to get through and many miles to travel before I’d feel safe. Juan patted my knee.
“You did good tonight.”
I smiled. “You did, too. I had no idea you were such a badass.”
He grinned. “I learned from the best.”
I looked back at Elijah. “Is he going to be okay?”
“I hope so. What about you? How’s your wound?”
I looked down and saw blood on my shirt. I touched my shoulder, wincing. “I think the bullet went through.”
“We’ll check it out later. Just put pressure on it.”
We were silent as we drove through the first gate. It was wide open and zombies were already roaming around which meant the other gate was probably open, too.
“Think any of the people in the houses lived?”
Juan shrugged. “Maybe, if they were lucky.”
Several of the houses were on fire, which was probably drawing the hordes inward.
“Who was the leader of the other property? Was he killed tonight?”
“I doubt it. He’s a smart man. He wouldn’t jeopardize his own life unless his men weren’t successful.”
“And was this a success?”
Juan pointed to a burning house. “You tell me.”
We came up to the last gate and Juan cursed. It was locked, which was strange.
“I’ll open it. Pull the car forward and I’ll hop in. Be ready for anything.”
Juan got out of the car before I could object. It would make more sense for me to open it. He went to the large gate and lifted the first beam. I slid over to the driver’s seat and waited. The second beam was stuck and he used his fist to knock it loose. It finally gave and he tossed it to the side before giving me a thumbs-up.
The gate opened on its own and I cried out. Juan saw the look on my face and turned at the same time a zombie reached out and bit his arm, blood gushing everywhere. Juan shoved it away, but another one was right behind it. As the gate opened my heart dropped even more. The biggest horde I’d ever seen came toward us and Juan met my gaze one last time before being overcome by the dead.
I gripped the steering wheel and pressed the gas pedal. There were so many that I didn’t know if the car could make it though. Bodies smashed against the hood as I drove. I swear to god I’d never heard so many teeth snapping together. And the smell… I gagged and floored the pedal. Bile rose up my throat and I fought the urge to vomit.
I could see a clearing ahead that was free of zombies. I drove toward it, using it as a beacon of hope. Elijah moaned from the backseat and I reached back, trying to assure him. But how could I when the car jerked from driving over the dead?
Finally the tires left flesh behind and met the smooth pavement. Tears fell down my cheeks as I drove. I’d lost two good friends tonight and I still wasn’t sure Elijah would make it. I couldn’t bear to think about what would happen if he didn’t. All I could do was drive and hope.
19
I’m not sure how long I drove, but finally exhaustion took over my body. Elijah still hadn’t woken up and I was getting worried. I pulled over and locked the doors before climbing into the backseat. It was tight squeeze, but I managed to snuggle up against Elijah without hurting his injured arm. And then blessed sleep took over.
I slept hard with no dreams, waking once to check on Elijah before falling back into a dark world of sleep. My body was worn out and my mind was willing to give in to the escape.
A loud scraping sound woke me up and I jumped, seeing a zombie’s face pressed against the window. Judging by the sunlight filtering in it was midmorning. I looked down and found Elijah staring up at me.
“Hi.”
I smiled at him. “Hi.”
“How long was I out?”
“Long enough.”
I moved so he could sit up and he winced with pain. He looked down at his bare chest.
“I remember Juan helping. Did he-”
“No.” I swallowed. “There was a huge horde at the hospital.”
He nodded and then said, “But we’re here and alive. That’s what matters.”
Inhaling, I smiled. “Yes, that’s what matters.”
“And now we head toward Texas.”
I hated to even ask. “And if there’s nothing there?”
He pulled me against his chest, holding me close. I closed my eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
“Then we keep moving until we find a new home. As long as we’re together everything will be fine.”
We both knew that things might not be easy, but he was right. As long as we had each other then we’d find a way to survive. I caressed his cheek before kissing him.
“Thank you, Elijah.”
He smiled that heart-dropping smile at me as color returned to his face.
“For what?”
“For saving me.”
He kissed me back. “You’ve got it all wrong, Daisy. You saved me. I was dead inside, but you changed everything.”
We stayed cuddled in each other’s arms for a bit longer before moving to the front seat. Elijah held my hand as I started the car.
“Ready for this?”
I kissed his knuckles. “I’m ready for anything as long as you’re here.”
THE END
Also By Sarah Bale:
Virgin Wars
The Contender (Wrestling Diaries #1)
The Rematch (Wrestling Diaries #2)
The Main Event (Wrestling Diaries #3)
Website
Get exclusive news about upcoming books, appearances, and more at www.SarahBale.com
Bonus Chapters
Read the first three chapters of Virgin Wars.
Virgin Wars
20
“They are going to kill me,” I muttered as I maneuvered my car through traffic.
Thursday night meant pizza night and I headed across town to meet my three best f
riends at our favorite pizza place. I hated running late, which is something that rarely happened unless I was on deadline. And boy, was I on deadline. Luckily I found an open spot and parked without having to walk several blocks to the restaurant.
Inside, I slid into the booth and noticed my friend, Amy Murphy, pushed her salad around the plate with a disgusted look on her face. Uh oh. She must be on another diet, but I thought better than to mention my observation. No telling what made her decide she needed to lose weight this time.
She glanced at me. “About time you showed up, Stacie.”
“Sorry guys,” I apologized.
“Why are you so late?” Jeremiah asked as he slid a drink toward me.
Jeremiah Foster held the spot as my oldest and dearest friend and I loved him to death. Too bad he was gay. Otherwise we might have ended up getting married right out of high school and have a house full of dark haired babies by now. Sometimes the thought made me laugh. And sometimes the idea made me really sad… sadder than it should.
“I had to turn in my edits. This is the last round before the book comes out and I needed to get the love scene just right.”
And for some reason that stupid love scene was giving me more hell than any other scene in the book.
Lori, who sat next to Jeremiah, broke into my thoughts and said, “I can relate with the deadline. I messed up big time.”
“Uh oh. Did you procrastinate again?”
A journalist, Lori wrote for our local newspaper as well as any freelance gigs she could pick up. Unfortunately she had a bad habit of waiting until the last minute to work on her projects, which often landed her in trouble with her editors.
“Yeah. It’s the bull-riding piece. It’s just been hard to write it because of all the memories it brings up about Daddy.”
Knowing both Lori and Amy’s past with their father I could see how writing about the rodeo might be hard but she needed to put her feelings aside and do her job. The newspaper would only give her so many chances before they got tired of her last minute style and find someone else.
Amy asked, “Does Mom know you’re writing the article? You should tell her if she doesn’t.”
Older by fifteen months, Amy often felt the need to lord those months over Lori and boss her younger sister around.
Lori shook her head. “No, you know how she would react. She still changes the TV if a rodeo commercial comes on.”
And since we lived in Oklahoma the rodeo came to town a lot…
“What are you going to do about the article?” I asked.
“My editor wants me to interview one of the bull riders. He’s ranked number two or something like that, but everyone thinks he’s going to win the grand prize. I did see a picture of him, though. He’s hot. V-card worthy hot.”
I held back a laugh. She’d been on a kick lately, rating guys on a scale of “hell no” to “V-card worthy”, which meant she might give them a shot at her still present virginity. Lori talked a big game, but I wondered if she would follow through if given the chance.
Jeremiah asked, “And how does the waiter over there rate?”
We all turned to look at the same time and Jeremiah groaned.
“Girls, have I taught you nothing?” He said with a shake of his head.
“He’s all right. Definitely do-able, but not my first choice,” Lori said.
Amy disagreed, as they often did when it came to men, and said, “You’re nuts. He’s hot!”
“Gay.” I chimed in. “He’s too perfect to be straight. Plus, I think he’s cute, which automatically means he’s gay, married, or a douche bag.”
I had the worst luck ever when it came to the opposite sex.
“Stacie’s right, he’s gay, or at least according to my dating app. I just wanted to get your official V-rating,” Jeremiah said with a grin. Then he said, “Back to your article. When is it due? I hope you’re not sitting with us when you should be writing.”
“My editor wants to see a first draft by tomorrow.”
Everyone groaned and Jeremiah slid out of the booth.
“Girl, get out of here.”
Lori rolled her eyes as she grabbed her jacket and stood. “I’ll see you guys later.”
We watched as she walked away with her shoulders slumped. Oh yeah - she had her work cut out for her on this one.
After Lori left, Amy sighed. “I don’t know why she waits until the last minute! She’s always done that.”
Lori and I worked together briefly one summer so I knew this was a true statement. Even back then she’d wait until the last moment to do anything assigned to her, to the point that I would help cover for her. Her procrastination felt maddening a times.
Jeremiah picked up a slice of pizza and said, “Well, I have some news, too. Treadmill asked me out on a date.”
Jeremiah never called his dates by their real names. He said using the nicknames made him feel safe. I felt like withholding their names became his own way of protecting his heart. Sometimes this method backfired on him because he became too guarded and didn’t give people very many chances.
But I couldn’t exactly say anything since I had my own issues when it came to the opposite sex.
“That’s exciting. Where are y’all going?” I asked.
“A fitness expo.”
I stared at him in awkward silence and finally said, “Uh, that’s cool.”
Another thing about Jeremiah – his interests always mirrored those of the people he dated. When he dated Lumberjack he liked to go camping. Twelve Gauge brought on an interest in gun shows. And don’t even get me started on the time he dated the gynecologist. The traumatic aftermath was still too much to remember.
He must have sensed my thoughts because he said defensively, “It’s not like that this time. This time it’s different.”
As it always was…
Amy smiled. “I’m sure it is.” Then she said to me, “I saw another billboard with your book ad on it. I almost stopped to take a picture so I could text it you.”
Always the peacemaker in the group, Amy knew how to smooth issues so things could get back to normal. And none of us liked change so her mollifying skills were perfect.
“I can’t believe how quickly they got the ads out there.” I said with a grin.
I still got excited as hell to see my books being advertised in such a big way.
“Well, what’s new with you?” I asked Amy.
This question was more of a formality since we talked on the phone or through texting several times a week when we weren’t hanging out, but asking became apart of our ritual. And so we answered.
“I’m just trying to make sure everything is ready for the opening in November. I still haven’t got the Chef with the catering company to confirm, so I may need your help with that.”
“Are you still nervous?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I feel like this could make or break me. I’m so lucky that people are even interested in what I’m doing and I know it’s partly because of the two of you.”
Right before the holiday season Amy’s art gallery would be reopening to the public featuring a well-known artist’s sculptures as well as her own pieces. Truly talented, each of her paintings told a different story.
Jeremiah reached across the table and held her hand. “Doll, this is all you. All we did was tell people about it.”
“Thanks.”
Her tone suggested she didn’t believe him, but she would after the opening. People would be lining up to buy her art. Heck, I even had my eyes on one of her pieces. I wouldn’t tell her, though, because she’d try to give the painting to me and I wanted to make sure she was paid for it.
Turning to me, she asked, “Are we still going to Dallas in two weeks?”
I nodded and she squealed. One of our favorite things to do as a group was to travel to Dallas for the weekend. We loved going to the “Big D” mostly because we discovered a source of entertainment that most definitely couldn’t be found in our own city. And
I loved every last sinful moment spent there.
“Is that smart, considering the deadline?” Jeremiah questioned, which momentarily brought me down to earth.
I stuck out my tongue and said, “Talk to me after your date with Treadmill.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Ouch, you got me.”
Depending on how his outing went, he just might join us on the trip. If that were the case then he’d be singing an entirely different tune. I kind of hoped he came with us. We all tended to laugh more when he was around.
Wednesdays were my loneliest days. I know it sounded crazy to have a day that seemed lonely, but I did. The world rushed by in a blur, except for me. Luckily my favorite writing spot wasn’t busy and I found my own personal haven.
Carrying my coffee to my table near the window, I sat down. Sunlight bathed the area in morning warmth. Hazelnut drifted into the air and I inhaled deeply. This was bliss.
Since my deadline loomed over my head, the employees at the cafe had seen me around a lot and had my drink ready to go when I entered the building. In about two hours they’d bring me another beverage made to my liking. It was a perk of my job.
Opening my laptop I resisted the urge to click on my Internet browser. Advanced copies of my book were now in the hands of reviewers. This meant there was potentially comments about my book out there somewhere. And a writer knew to never read the comments.
A lesson learned the hard way I eventually had to stop reading reviews. I’d never please everyone. Though most of the reviews and comments were good, the bad ones could set my world into a tailspin. Not only did they hurt my feelings, but they also made me question myself. And I didn’t have time for that.
Plus, the people on my marketing team watched out for me. They would let me know if a reviewer’s comments were something I truly needed to worry about. So far there hadn’t been anything to be concerned over.