by Unknown
The sound of their mournful cries filtered through the night, and he couldn’t help but shiver deep inside. In the distance, perhaps only a half-mile away, he saw several pairs of glowing orange points moving closer with jerky but determined intent. The monsters’ eyes.
He knew the horror of the creatures from being in their close proximity: the stench emanating from their destroyed bodies, the sight of the gray, rotting, sagging flesh, the horrible tone of their desperate moans.
He’d nearly been carried off by one of them. A female monster, he thought…though Luke wasn’t certain what had given him that impression. Something about the way she moved, or her hair?
And if a potty-mouthed woman with a bow and arrow hadn’t appeared from nowhere and nailed the creature with one of her weapons, he had no idea what would have become of him, because the zombies didn’t tear into blond people. They didn’t crack their skulls and devour their brains and flesh.
They carried them off…to somewhere.
“Come on,” he whispered, tugging Marisa behind him. “I left my pack over there.”
The old mailbox wasn’t far from the enclosure, and it was tucked in the shadows of an old building with a veed-in roof and ivy that covered what remained of its brick walls. But they would have to move from the protective darkness spilled by the large oak tree and the nearby barrier and dash into broad moonlight in order to get to the hiding place.
He kept a tight grip on her hand, still mentally berating himself for bringing her with him. But he couldn’t have left her behind for Ian Marck or Juniper to find. Yet he was damned sure it wasn’t any better an idea to have her outside the walls at night, with the zombies nearby.
Something fell from the oak as he gauged the distance they’d have to run—a piece of bark—and landed on his shoulder. Luke glanced up, peering into the cluster of leaves and branches outlined against the dark blue sky. The hair lifted on the back of his neck. Was something up there?
He couldn’t tell—there was no wind, yet the branches and leaves rustled lightly.
Just fecking great. It would be his damned luck if they got past Ian Marck and avoided the zombies—only to be mauled by a wild cat lurking in the tree.
And with that a possibility, he didn’t dare leave Marisa here in the shadow of the oak while he risked himself in the open. Damn.
“Come on,” he said again, and pulled her after him as he dashed toward half a rusted-out car. As they dove into hiding behind the vehicle, Luke heard a soft metallic clang. It sounded just like the noise the truck door made when they climbed through the last segment of the secret passage.
Feck. They’re on our trail. Adrenaline spiked through him, and he looked down at Marisa. She’d stilled, and her grip on his hand was tight as she turned back to see the place from where they’d emerged through the wall. But when she looked up at him from behind those sexy, nerdy glasses, her moonlit expression was remarkably calm.
“Maybe the gangas will get them,” she muttered, squeezing between Luke and the rusty car as she tried to peer around for a better view.
He gave a soft laugh and barely resisted pressing a good, solid kiss onto her soft lips. Later. The minute we’re out of this mess, he promised himself. “Let’s go. There.” He gestured to a random pile of rubble sprouting hairlike plugs of grass and a clump of daisies.
But just as they were about to ease out into a swash of moonlight, two figures burst from the secret passage.
“They’re out here somewhere,” Juniper said. “They have to be.”
Marck remained silent, but Luke saw the fury and determination in his stance, and then as he stalked out of the shadows to look around the area. Marisa was tense and silent next to him, having ducked back into the hiding place as soon as their pursuers came into view. She was squeezing his hand again, and Luke swore to himself. It was only a matter of moments before they were discovered.
What the hell was I thinking, bringing her out here?
All Ian Marck had to do was take another three more steps in their direction and boom! It was all over. Luke would be recognized and discovered, and Marisa with him—but wait.
“You’re my prisoner,” he breathed softly into her ear, praying the zombie groans—growing ever closer—would mask any hint of the low sound from Ian Marck’s sharp ears. “If they catch us, you’re here against your will. You’re my hostage.”
She tensed as if to argue, then her muscles relaxed and she gave a nod. All right then, at least she wouldn’t be accused along with him.
They crouched as low and close to the ground as possible, tucking against the rear wheel of the car as Marck and Juniper scanned the area. Neither of them were looking toward Luke and Marisa’s hiding place, and he began to hope they might have the chance to duck to a different shadow, further away…
“Ruuuthhhhh…rrrrruuuuttthhhhh…”
“Zombies are getting close,” Juniper said. “They can smell us.” He sounded worried. Luke liked that. Maybe the pussy would go back inside and they’d only have Ian to deal with. Maybe they’d both go back inside…although that was unlikely. Marck had his own unique way of dealing with the zombies.
“Or maybe they smell someone else. There’s someone else here that’s been drawing them,” Marck snapped, spinning back toward Luke and Marisa’s car. “Desmond’s in River Vale, or outside it, somewhere out here.”
The next thing Luke knew, Marck was stalking toward them, and he gripped Marisa tightly, waiting for the inevitable moment of discovery…wishing he had a weapon. Something.
One step…two steps…Marck’s shadow fell over the car and he was close enough Luke could feel the air stirring. Marisa wasn’t breathing; she was still as stone.
“Yo! Marck. Even an asshat like you can’t be that ass-crap clueless.”
A new voice—that of a female—drew the attention of everyone in the area.
Marck spun on his heel, the stony ground gritty under his foot. “What the—”
A figure—long and lean and definitely feminine—dropped from the oak tree and landed light as a cat on her two feet. She was holding a bow, and the arrows bounced in a quiver on her back. “You’re getting soft, Ian.”
“Zoë Kapoor,” he replied in cool tones. “Well look what the damned zombies dragged in.”
“Hardly,” said the woman as she stepped from the shadows into the light. “One more freaking step and you’re dead, asswipe,” she added, looking lazily at Juniper—who’d made the mistake of appearing ready to jump her. Now she had a nasty-looking arrow with a large point in her hand, and deliberately nocked it into place. Luke knew full well how capable she was of using the lethal spears to scramble the brains of any creature that might attack.
Because, against all odds and logic, here now stood the very same bad-tempered woman who’d saved Luke from a zombie attack two years ago. And she’d complained about it the whole time.
Well…at least now he knew her name.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Ian said.
But before Zoë could reply, the rrruuuthhhhh of the zombies was suddenly very close—horribly, startlingly close, and all at once, one of them tottered into view from behind a cluster of trees…only yards from Luke and Marisa. The monster was followed by three of his companions. Their orange eyes burned with need and desperation as they staggered closer, moaning for rrrruuuuuuttttthhhhhh.
Marisa’s breathing caught up to her, and she began to tremble. Luke curved an arm around her, shielding her with his body. They smell us. They know we’re here.
Juniper began to edge toward the protective fence, but Zoë and Marck merely looked at the monsters. “You or me, joker?” she asked finally, as the stench of rotting flesh came very close on a sudden waft of breeze. By now, Luke could see the outlines of the nearest creature’s hair, long and shaggy, and the sharp points of his overgrown fingernails.
For a moment he considered bolting out and taking his chances with Ian Marck.
“Go ahead,” said the bo
unty hunter to the archer. “I know how you like to show off.”
He’d hardly spoken when an arrow whizzed through the air, landing dead center in the nearest monster’s forehead. The once-human creature dropped to the ground with a thud that sent up a puff of dust, and the two coming up behind him couldn’t stop in time. In a horrible parody of a clown act, they stumbled, staggered, and finally tripped over their companion.
Not too smart—or coordinated—were those zombies.
It would take them some time to figure out how to pull to their feet, likely pulling each other down in the process. But the danger was not yet over, for once they managed to become upright, their fury and determination would be stoked hotter.
Marisa was still trembling, but now her eyes were wide and white as she gaped at Luke, and then back toward Zoë and her arrows.
But before the woman could loose a second spear, Ian Marck held up a light. It sent out sizzling red sparks, which had the zombies freezing in their struggles to stand. Their moans died away as if strangled into silence.
“Got a new toy, Ian?” asked Zoë. “I’ve only seen you with a purple light. You and your fuck-headed father.” When Marck didn’t deign to respond and merely held the light high enough that the zombies began to shield their eyes from it, she turned back to him. “There’s no one around here but me. I’m real damn sorry to disappoint you, joker.”
He gave a short laugh. “There was only that one kiss, Zoë, but I have to agree—it was a disappointment.”
“Yeah, right,” she snorted. “Dickwad. As if I’d let you put your shit-stained, murderous hands on me. You’re not my damned type.”
“Thank God for that.”
“I know your type, Ian. She has a bloody fucking crystal embedded in her skin, doesn’t she?”
Even from a distance, Luke saw how Ian stiffened as if caught utterly off guard…then immediately recovered. “In your immortal words: as if.”
“So you thought you were tracking Luke Desmond?” Hey. How did she know his name? “But it was really just my tight, perky ass you and your douchebag friend were sniffing around, looking for. Like I said, you’re getting soft. And slow.”
“I coulda swore it was two people I saw,” Juniper whined.
“Crap on a cross, where the hell’d you find this asswad?” Zoë said to Ian. “I ought to take him down for implying I’m big enough to pass for two.”
“For all I know, you were meeting someone here. Desmond, maybe?” said Marck.
“I could have been, I suppose. If you really think I’d be working with someone, instead of alone like I always have and always will…but even if I were, joker, whoever that fool was’d be long gone by now. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to take a nap or something—he’d’ve retrieved his pack and got his sorry, saggy ass the damn hell away from here.”
Luke blinked. Take a nap? Like an “NAP” nap? Retrieved his pack? Was that just a coincidence, or…
Then suddenly, irritated with himself, he realized she’d known he and Marisa were there all along. He’d seen her shadow in the oak tree…of course she’d seen them. Had probably even heard them, talking in the middle of the secret passage. How else would she know about the pack, and the NAP?
And why else would she be helping them?
Did she know the Waxnickis? Or was she just covering for them out of the goodness of her heart?
Luke stifled a snort. From what he’d seen and heard from the woman, that was doubtful. She was a real hard-ass. But whatever it was, she was giving him a pretty damn clear message.
“Besides,” Zoë continued, “last I heard, Desmond was in Berch Falls.”
Well, there we go. Considering that he’d never been near Berch Falls, that was just about as much of a confirmation Zoë Kapoor was on his side as he could get.
Marisa was poking him, and he looked down to find her face very close to his. “She’s distracting them,” she murmured ever so softly into his ear. The soft, warm puff of her words sent prickles over his shoulders, and her glasses bumped against his temple. “Let’s go.”
Sure enough, now that the zombies had been chased off by the red-sparked light, Zoë somehow redirected Marck and Juniper’s attention away from them. She was talking and waving her hands—every other word was a swear word—all the while edging along the wall away from Luke and Marisa’s hiding place.
He didn’t hesitate. With a tug of her hand, he indicated the direction and they slipped out of the shadow, taking care to keep their feet soft and silent on the dirt until they reached the grass that grew around the old mailbox. Marisa was panting a little—maybe from nerves, maybe from the fast, unexpected dash—but Luke was already digging out his pack from inside the overturned mailbox.
He held his breath, aware of Zoë’s crotchety voice doing its best to camouflage any sounds he might make when he eased open the old metal door open at the back of the mailbox. Fortunately, he’d already done it once today and knew that if he was slow and careful enough, he could push in the door with hardly a sound.
He released his breath when the opening was wide enough for Marisa to reach in and pull out his rucksack, and then slowly pulled the door back. Heart thudding, he flashed her a quick smile and squeezed her hand.
“Now what?” she murmured, again so very close that it felt as if her words caressed him. “Can’t go back the same way…”
He shook his head. “Let’s go in the main entrance.”
To his surprise and relief, she nodded. After a quick check to make sure Zoë and the others were otherwise distracted, and there was no sound or smell of zombies in the air, he gestured to a decrepit building. Marisa nodded again, clearly understanding his plan to make a large circuit out and away from this area of the enclosure in order to avoid being seen by the snoot.
It was a little risky, but not as risky as trying to go back in the way they’d come.
And so, step by step, moving from shadow to shadow, they made their way carefully around to the main entrance of River Vale.
Once there, Luke’s concern wasn’t about getting through the gates—they were there to keep out the zombies and wild animals, not people—but being seen and recognized by any other residents of River Vale.
If word got out to Ian Marck that Luke had been seen near or inside the walls, Zoë’s misdirection would be in vain…and Marisa would be considered an accomplice. Another wave of guilt crashed over him. He had risked not only himself but her with this mad plan, and for what reason? Just so he could see her again?
“I’ll go first.” She must have realized his hesitation as they made the last mad dash and paused behind the River Vale sign, for she added, “To make sure no one’s around.”
Luke had no choice but to agree, and just as she started to slip away, he pulled her back with a sharp tug…catching her in his arms. “Thank you,” he whispered, then found her mouth with his and gave her a quick, yet thorough—very thorough—kiss.
When he pulled away and saw shock behind her askew glasses, he swore silently. Too much? Too soon? Right…she certainly wouldn’t have expected her sister’s ex-fiancé to be kissing her every chance he got. Dammit.
Marisa pulled away and, with one last strange look, she stood and walked boldly up to the gate. It was closed, of course, but it was easy to open—for someone who wasn’t a zombie or a wild animal.
Luke waited as she opened the gate and stepped inside. The doorway closed. All was silent. And still.
Nothing.
As he waited for what seemed too long, he stewed with guilt and regret. Maybe she was still pissed off at him. Maybe she was just trying to get away from him and his manhandling…
No, no, that couldn’t be it. If she hadn’t wanted to be around him, hadn’t wanted to help, she could easily have just let him go on his own…
But the gate didn’t open.
And it didn’t open.
And all was silent, except, once more in the not-too-distant night came the eerie, terrible sound: “Rrrrruu
uuuttthhhhhh…”
CHAPTER 8
W hat in the hell had that been? That last, crazy, hot kiss?
Marisa’s heart was thudding and her knees were weak as she leaned against the inside of the wall.
Thank you, he’d murmured.
Of course he was grateful for her assistance—after all, without Marisa to show him the way, he would have been in a lot more trouble, and either zombie meat by now (although he was blond, so maybe they would have just carted him off), or in the unpleasant custody of Ian Marck.
Either way…he hadn’t needed to kiss the hell out of her—again—to thank her. Unless…no. Don’t be silly.
To emphasize the ridiculousness of the half-formed thought, she shook her head, bumping against the wall and knocking her glasses off. After bending to retrieve them, Marisa stood and looked around to make certain of her initial impression that no one was in the vicinity.
All was silent and still, except across the way she could see the colorful flicker of light from the movie…which was apparently still going. She wondered if the girl had finally been kissed.
I sure have.
Damn. Stop thinking about that. You’ve got other things to take care of.
Okay. No one was around. The movie was still going. The coast was clear.
Marisa opened the gate and stuck out her arm, making a sharp come on! gesture without even looking beyond the entrance.
A moment later, Luke’s strong, warm fingers closed around her hand and she pulled him inside the gate, then closed it. “Stay in the shadows,” she told him—probably needlessly, but whatever—and, releasing his hand, began to walk boldly toward the Shelby Library.
She’d already come up with a plan, and he was going to have to go along with it—whether he liked it or not.
Luke hugged the buildings, staying out of sight but following her as she hurried to her home. Surely Ian Marck and Juniper were still outside the gates, or at least if they weren’t they had come back inside through the secret passage and were on the other side of the town. The only worry she had was for the third bounty hunter—wherever he was.
