Love at the End of Days

by Tera Shanley

  “Better find it quick. We’ve got more company.”

  It was then that she heard it. The groaning of countless Deads coming in fast. Stiff, dried grass whispered under their clumsy footfalls as she scoured the ground for her handgun. Her panicked fingers fell over rocks and stumps, sticks, and brush but still couldn’t find the weapon. There. Lurching for it, she pulled it up in one swift motion toward the crashing noise. “I thought you said there weren’t as many of them in the cold.”

  Finn stood stiff and waiting as she took her position at his back. Confusion flashed through his eyes as he scanned the woods. “I was wrong.”

  “What do we do?”

  He tilted his head and looked up at the trees and cursed. “Too old, we can’t reach the bottom limbs. Head for the ATV.”

  He didn’t have to tell her twice. She was high-knee scrambling before he even got the entire sentence out.

  “There they are,” Finn whispered. “Turn it on, and put it in first gear while I pick them off.”

  Shot after careful shot fired and served as a soundtrack to her internal panic when the engine only gave a whine as she twisted the key. Again, she turned it. “Finn?”

  “Keep trying. She takes a tender touch is all. She’ll start up.”

  Over and over she turned it to nothing, and the moaning got louder. Finally, the engine roared to life but there wasn’t time to escape what was coming for them, and Finn was in trouble. She pulled up her Glock and steadied her breathing. Shot, aim, shot, aim, shot, aim, until her clip clicked with an echoing, empty sound. Finn had already switched weapons but the running corpses just kept coming. Closer and closer they pushed until the darkness was filled with nightmares.

  A scream sat in her throat, readied to be of use in her last moments of life. Finn sprinted for the ATV and grabbed the bars around her waist. “Clear a path!” he yelled.

  She pulled her rifle around front and leaned to the side to give him room to see where he was driving them, and she picked them off in the harsh illumination of the headlights. It was a good plan until they came to a cluster of monsters. Finn pulled off into the woods and hit the gas so hard her stomach lurched. Deads ran clumsily after them, and any in front, she took a shot at. Some she missed on account of the jerky terrain, but most fell on the spot. Her arms shook from the adrenaline, and a piece of her that she wouldn’t give a voice wanted to sob. Finn checked his position and turned the four-wheeler north. The moaning sounded farther off, but it never disappeared completely, and that feeling of being hunted clung to her like a second, suffocating skin. There were no words here. Just a hope that they’d make it to the Dead Run River gates before the monsters did. Hopefully Finn could find his way in the dark, even after they’d got turned around in the woods. All she could do was trust him.

  The ATV bumped and bounced across the uneven ground, but Finn never let off the gas. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was spooked too. The lights of their ride illuminated the wooden posts of the gate, but they were too far to one side. He rocketed down the fence line until they came to the entrance.

  Two guards filed out of the opening, and the leader, a squat man with a ready scowl, said, “Bite check.”

  Finn pulled off his shirt and hopped off the back before tugging at the fly of his pants.

  “Bite check?” She’d had one when she first came through colony gates, but it was done in private and by a female guard.

  “Vanessa, take your clothes off.”

  “What? No, thanks. Hard pass.”

  “Nobody gets in the gate without us making sure they aren’t going to turn Dead on us. Clothes off!” barked the guard.

  “All of them?”

  Finn leveled her a look of impatience and snarled, “There are a whole lot of Deads headed our way. Can you not hear them? If you don’t want to be zombie chow, I’d suggest you take your friggin’ clothes off.”

  Good enough for her. She stripped faster than a lady-of-the-night named Cinnamon. She didn’t even care about the smirk from the guard and definitely didn’t bother to dress herself before she went sprinting for the opening gates. Finn at least had his pants back on before he pulled the four-wheeler through and the gates thudded closed.

  After hobbling into her clothes, she collapsed onto the trail and stared at the twinkling stars as she waited for her breathing to slow. She was different now. Down to her bones, she was a different person than the one who’d left these gates an hour before. Her arm hurt like hellfire, and she may very well never catch her breath again, but she’d thought she was a goner. A slow smile crooked her lips.

  The stout guard stood over her. “Did you kill your first Dead out there, little lady?”

  “No,” Finn said. “She killed her first thirty.”

  The guard just stared at him like he was waiting for the punch line as Finn pulled her to her feet. His chuckle matched hers. She was downright giddy under the drunken adrenaline crash that left her woozier than the bathtub wine she’d chugged. He pulled her into a rough hug and slapped her on the back so hard she nearly lost her breath all over again, but she didn’t mind. They’d lived.

  The clawing at the gate was a stark reminder of what could’ve been, but tonight, they were alive, and she’d helped keep them that way. Victory.

  “I owe you an apology, Summers. That wasn’t…” Finn seemed to struggle for words as he eased away from her. “Deads don’t usually act like that this time of year.” He cast a dark look at the gate that stood between them and the horde. “I really thought you’d only get a shot at one or two.” He gripped her shoulder and shook her gently, then smiled. “You did good. I think you’ve earned a day off of PT. Get some rest, and we’ll leave first thing Sunday morning.”

  Finn’s approval suddenly meant a lot more than she’d expected it to. It had sat in her craw when he’d rejected her as a candidate for the supply run, but now he was okay with it.

  She gave a little salute. “Yes, sir,” she said with a saucy grin and turned for home.

  Something about the near-death experience exhausted her. She wouldn’t have a problem in the world with falling asleep now in the safety of her little cabin room.

  In the morning, she’d probably wonder if she’d dreamed this.

  Chapter Five

  VANESSA MEANDERED UP THE TRAIL toward the showers. She’d slept until noon, and anyone without the day off was busy at their job assignment. She’d passed only two people by the time she reached the six wooden stalls in the clearing. Only one pair of legs graced the men’s side, and she had her choice of showers on the women’s. Hanging her shower bag on the faucet and hitting the tap, she hung her clean clothes across the stall door and waited for the water to warm to steaming. One quick temperature check later, and she was stripping out of her pajamas and carefully unwrapping her hastily bandaged arm.

  So tired was she after the Dead hunt, she’d washed the cut as best she could in the washbasin and performed a quick wrap job on it. Without pain meds, she’d woken up several times during her slumber when she’d lain on it wrong, or when the uncomfortable throbbing pulled her from sleep. If it got infected, she was definitely going to shoot Finn in the leg or maybe the arm.

  The water turned brown under her as she washed dried blood from the wound, and when the rivers swirling around the drain turned clear again, she leaned her forehead against the shower wall and absorbed every drop of warm water she could. Who knew when the next hot shower would be.

  With a towel tightly wrapped around her body, she wrung out the long tresses of her blond hair until water didn’t pour from it anymore. No way did the thought of pulling the rough, thermal sweater over the freshly washed and unbandaged cut on her arm sound appealing. Maybe she could get away with escaping to her room in just a towel. It was cold, but a faster pace would warm her enough until she got to the heat of her room.

  Peeking around the stall, not a soul was in a sight. With her shower bag and a wad of clothing, both clean and dirty, in hand, she sl
id her boots onto her moist feet and bolted for the safety of the trees.

  “Vanessa?”

  She skidded to a stop and hunched into herself. Slowly, she turned.

  “I thought that was you,” Sean said with an amused grin.

  He wore a tight, black cotton shirt over dark cargo pants, and little drops of water clung to the ends of his short hair. His face had been shaven clean, emphasizing every sharp angle of his face. The slant of his eyes was downright cat-like when he was smirking like that.

  She cleared her throat. “I heard you vouched for me.”

  His dancing eyes dropped to her towel, held stubbornly in place by her clenched fist, and then to her untied and floppy boots. His appraisal stopped at her arm, and a deep frown furrowed his brow. “What happened?” he asked, running a towel over his hair.

  Dead Run River wasn’t an overwhelming size, and rumors ran rampant. Idle gossip spoke of Sean’s epically stubborn protectiveness, to the point of fault for the man. And the stubborn pull of his narrowed eyes to the wound said he was only playing at patience. Treading carefully was a solid plan when it came to pacifying a predator.

  She smirked. “I fell.”

  His approach was unwavering and slow, like he was trying not to startle her into fleeing. Smart man. When he stood directly in front of her in that unnerving way of his, he brushed a light finger in a line down the uninjured part of her arm, tracing but not touching the slice on her arm.

  “Did Finn do this?” The intensity of the blue in his eyes swirled like the Bering Sea in the middle of a hurricane.

  She nodded carefully. This was it. He’d freak out and ream Finn and ruin the experience completely.

  A slow smile curved his sensuous lips. “Did you kill a Dead?”

  Okay, or maybe his protectiveness was only reserved for people in his inner circle. The relief sent a flutter into her throat, and she huffed a laugh. “I’m a Dead-slaying virgin no longer.”

  “He wouldn’t have taken you hunting if he didn’t have faith you could manage it, you know.”

  “I’m beginning to see that. His methods kind of sucked though.”

  “Come on. I’ll take you down to Doc so he can check that out. We need that taken care of before the supply run tomorrow.” He led her down the path without a backward glance. “It wasn’t his method.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He graced her with a wry smile over his shoulder. “It was my method.”

  A tiny gasp escaped her. “You were the one who cut Finn?”

  “I trained him, but I needed to know he’d be good under pressure if I was going to take him as a personal guard for Adrianna and myself. Most colony leaders have enemies—people hungry for that power for the wrong reasons, and I was no different. I needed someone I could trust.”

  “Right, stab your friends to test their loyalty. Got it. Finn said you’re coming on the supply run. If it’s to keep an eye on me, don’t bother. I’ll be fine without a babysitter.”

  “I haven’t decided if I’m leading it yet or not. Finn doesn’t think I should. I haven’t gone on one in six months. He probably thought I had retired, and it would’ve made his job much easier.”

  “Retired? You’re twenty-eight, not eighty.”

  His shoulders rose as he inhaled deeply and released it. “Things are different when you have a kid to think about.”

  “It’s settled then. You stay here, and we’ll be back with the supplies shortly.”

  He hopped the medical office stairs by twos and held the door open for her. Clasping the towel even tighter, she took a seat on the table Sean pointed to.

  “Hey, Doc, you in here?” Sean called.

  Dr. Mackey stuck his head out of a lab room in the back. “What’s happened?” he asked with a frown.

  “It’s not me. It’s her.” He gestured to Vanessa, and she fidgeted under Dr. Mackey’s scrutiny.

  “Nasty looking cut you got there. Do I need to worry about where you got a knife wound this big?”

  She shrugged noncommittally. Doc didn’t have to know about her near-death experience any more than Sean did.

  With stitches, fresh bandages, a bitter drink that most definitely dulled the edges of the pain, and strict instructions on keeping the injury clean, she left the office with Sean trailing her. “Well, it’s been real, and it’s been fun, but it hasn’t been real fun. See you on the flip side, Sean.”

  “All right, I can take the hint. You’re trying to shake me.”

  “Yep. Later.”

  He stood on the porch of the medical cabin as she scurried up the trail with her shower supplies. Braving a glance back only once, her heart hammered as Sean watched her leave with an unfathomable expression on his face. Thoughtful and serious—maybe even calculating. The look scared her, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why. She turned back around and double-timed it up the trail to her cabin.

  Sean was a dangerous man. That was for certain. Honorable, a good friend and father, but those devilishly good looks were the perfect disguise. Men like him made broken promises and left women like her to pick up the pieces. It was a lucky break she was leaving him behind in the morning because she’d be damned if she would trust her heart with another man again.

  Sean watched her leave with an odd sensation in his gut. The instincts to go with her and to run away in the opposite direction warred with each other and made it hard to stay in place. For a year, he had scarcely noticed her, and now she was everywhere, filling him with something he couldn’t explain. Something scary.

  With an explosive sigh, he sunk into the rocking chair on the medical office porch. She’d looked good sashaying off in her little towel that simultaneously left too little and too much to the imagination. He’d had to stop himself several times from touching the ends of her damp hair while Doc stitched her up. What was wrong with him? Was his heart so desperate to find relief from Laney that it would latch onto the first good-looking woman who halfway pissed him off? Finn was right. Vanessa was nothing like Aria. And she sure as hell wouldn’t be any good for him.

  The guilt over his late wife hit him in the gut, like it always did when he thought of another woman. She’d died almost four years ago, but he’d only just mustered the courage to put her down last year. How weak he’d been to let her go all that time as a monster.

  “I’m scared,” were her last words, and he buried his face in his hands as the pain from that memory washed over him.

  Laney had been right to run from him. He wasn’t right for anyone. He did two things well: good fathering and good leadership. Caring for a woman in a way she deserved was simply beyond his abilities. He’d spare Vanessa the pain and stay away from her. The supply run would have to make do without him.

  Mel needed his answer, so he stood and headed for her cabin at the top of the colony.

  After a firm rap at her door, she called, “Come in.”

  Mel was sitting down to lunch in her formal dining room with a dainty napkin laid in her lap. “I thought you would be coming by.” She pushed a shallow stack of paperwork closer toward the edge of the table.

  Even months after deciding there was nothing romantic with Mel, it still felt strange stepping into her home. It was impossible to know where he stood with her. If Mel didn’t want to be read, she was proficient at keeping her thoughts and opinions deeply guarded. She could hate him for all he knew, but she’d still be a mask of politeness for the rest of their days.

  She motioned for him to take a seat beside her, and he cleared his throat. “I’m out on the supply run. I can recommend a replacement though.”

  She tilted her chin. “Why the change of heart?”

  “It wasn’t really a change of heart, Mel. I came in here to vouch for Vanessa yesterday. I didn’t think you were going to ask me to lead the team.”

  “I have my reasons for doing so.”

  “Which are?”

  She pursed her lips and dropped her gaze to the paperwork. “Doc needs
a med run. It’s the focus of this mission, and I need someone I can trust to get the job done right out there.”

  Sean fingered through the five sheets of paper. “I don’t even recognize most of the things he needs. How are we supposed to track all of this down?”

  “You’ll be taking one of Dr. Mackey’s assistants to aid you in finding what you need.”

  He jerked his gaze to hers. “We can’t bring a civilian on a supply run, Mel. You know that. The last time we did that, half the team was eaten by the third day trying to protect the helpless bugger. We’re already on a steep learning curve with Vanessa—”

  “I thought you said she was ready.”

  “She is, but she’s still green.”

  “She’s not green anymore.”

  “And what do you mean by that? I heard about Finn’s little test last night. Killing one Dead doesn’t make her experienced. Surely you know that.”

  “Killing one Dead, no. Killing thirty or so gives her enough experience to retract her ‘novice’ label.”

  Gripping his hands under the table, he leaned forward. “What do you mean thirty?”

  “The Deads’ movements around here have shifted. It seems they aren’t as affected by the cold as they have been in past years. Finn miscalculated how many would be roaming the woods last night, and they had to fight their way out of a horde. Vanessa was a warrior.”

  Stark pride warred with gut-searing anger that she was ever placed in such an uncontrolled environment for her first kill.

  “Sean,” Mel said softly. “We need you on this one. Who can you name that will get the civilian back alive with everything we need for vaccine dispersion? Dr. Mackey is so close to having the medicine ready to administer, but we’re at a standstill until we get these supplies. Every day, people are dying, and we are on the cusp of preventing some of them. We can’t help the ones who are eaten, but a single bite? They won’t be a threat anymore. Just a scar and a story for the grandkids.”

  Sean sighed, long and slow. “I quit doing supply runs because Adrianna is old enough to ask me not to go.”