The light streaming in through the windows faded long enough for me to get a good look around, and I realized Kellan was right. There was another group outside, in the parking lot, and they were attacking us. I wasn’t sure who to root for, though. If Andrew won, Kellan was dead, but we knew nothing about this other group. They might not care that I was immune. They might put a bullet in both our heads without even batting an eye.
Our chance!
Only a little bit ago I’d been thinking about what might need to happen to get us out of this. A distraction. That was what I needed, and this was it.
“They’re distracted,” I said, realizing this could be our opportunity. “We need to go, now!”
I started moving before he could respond, holding his arm between my hands, pulling him with me. The dark hall stood before us, and even though I had no idea where it went or what we would face, I knew we stood a better chance in the darkness of the building than we did with either of these groups. It was an office building, but if we were lucky, we might be able to find something we could use to defend ourselves. Scissors, maybe. I could use them to cut the zip ties, and then as a weapon if necessary. Yes. It could work. It had to!
We charged into the dark hall, reaching a turn less than twenty feet from the lobby, where I stopped. Darkness stretched out in front of us, seemingly never-ending. With no flashlight, I would have to feel my way through. I only prayed there were no zombies lurking in the shadows.
Kellan leaned against the wall at my side, panting. “What now?”
“We need to find something to cut these zip ties.” I reached for him, finding his hand in the darkness and pulling him to me. “Here, hold on to my belt loop. Don’t let go.”
Kellan’s fingers slipped through the loop and tightened.
“You have me?” I asked, even though I could feel him behind me, his heat was that intense.
“Yeah.”
“Hold on, okay? Don’t let go.”
“I’ve got you,” Kellan said.
I moved, running my bound hands along the wall as I took slow, measured steps. The noise behind us still echoed through the building, but in front of us there was only silence. Still, my heart pounded harder with each step, and I did my best to stay as quiet as possible, not wanting to draw out anything that might be lurking in the darkness.
When I reached a doorway, I paused and ran my hand over it until I located the knob. The metal was cold against my skin when I tried to turn it, probably because I was sweating, but it didn’t budge, so I left it behind and kept moving.
I reached another door and repeated the process, only to be let down again. Over and over I tried the doors lining the hall, but not until the seventh one was I rewarded for my efforts when the knob turned and the door swung open, and I hurried inside, pulling Kellan with me.
Carefully, I shut the door behind us, making sure it made as little sound as possible. Wherever we were, the room was silent, and when I inhaled, the only scent that filled my nostrils was dust and dirt.
“It’s clear, I think,” I said, whispering even though no one was around.
Now that the door was shut, even the noise from the lobby was muffled, but not gone entirely. They were still fighting, and the longer the battle stretched out, the more time we would have.
I reached behind me and urged Kellan’s fingers from my belt loop. “Sit down. Rest while I look around.”
“Just for a minute,” he said, and his clothes rustled in the darkness as he lowered himself to the ground. “Then I’ll help.”
The fact that he didn’t argue told me how horrible he was feeling.
“Don’t make a sound. I’m going to try to find scissors.”
I had no idea what kind of office this used to be, but I figured there had to be a reception desk of some kind, and odds were, there would be scissors either on it, or in one of the drawers. At least I hoped so.
I moved deeper into the office, my hands out in front of me. My heart was pounding, thudding in my ears and drowning out every other sound as I took small steps forward. When my hands made contact with something solid, I stopped and felt around, trying to get my bearing. It was a counter of some kind, so I followed it, holding on as I moved to the side, and then around the back. Once there, I felt around again, first over the surface, where I knocked over a cup filled with pens. My heart jumped as I fingered them, hoping to find a pair of scissors mixed in with the various writing utensils, but I came up empty handed.
It was okay. There were still drawers. I would find scissors in a drawer.
I knelt and felt around again, pulling on handles when I found them, searching the darkness by feel alone. They had to have scissors or something else sharp. They had to.
I hit the jackpot in drawer number three when my skin brushed against cold metal, and I wrapped my fingers around it, wanting to cry out in triumph when the sharp point pressed against my palm.
Now I just had to get back to Kellan.
It was easier than I’d thought it would be to retrace my steps, and I could feel the heat radiating off his body when I knelt in front of him. It made my heart pound faster, reminded me that getting away from Andrew was only the first step. I needed to find antibiotics, needed to make sure Kellan got better, and then we would have to make our way back to Oklahoma.
“Kellan,” I whispered as I reached for him, finding his chest first. “Hold up your hands. I have scissors.”
He did, and I grappled with them in the dark for a moment. I didn’t want to accidentally cut him. It only took a moment to get a feel for the situation, then I slid the scissors through the plastic binding his wrists and cut, and the zip tie fell away.
“Now me,” I said, passing the scissors into his hand.
He said nothing as he took them, and only a moment passed before I was free as well.
Without a word, he passed the scissors back and let out a breath as he sank back against the wall. “I can’t run any more, Regan. I don’t have any energy left.”
“You have to,” I said. “We can’t stay here or they’ll find us eventually. We have to go. We have to get out of this building.”
“I can’t.”
I opened my mouth to argue but was cut off by the sound of footsteps charging down the hall.
I turned toward the door even though I couldn’t see it, my heart racing. Until now, I hadn’t noticed that sounds had died away, but they had, and now someone was in the hall, probably looking for us.
The lock! Why the hell hadn’t I thought to lock the door when we came in? Because I’d been too worried about Kellan, too focused on finding scissors so I could free our hands and possibly have a weapon, and now it was too late. They were on their way. Who, I wasn’t sure, but there would be more than one of them, and they would be armed.
A sliver of light cut through the darkness, shining in from under the door, and I tensed. We were trapped, but whatever happened, I wasn’t going down without a fight.
I got to my feet, holding the scissors in my hand like a knife, and put myself between Kellan and the door. My heart thudded, and I held my breath, waiting. The sound of male voices echoed through the silence seconds before the doorknob rattled and turned.
It was shoved open, and light flooded the room, momentarily blinding me, but after only a second, the beam moved down, and I was able to get a look at the people in front of me. Four figures, but not all men—it wasn’t Andrew’s group. There was a woman with them. That was a good sign, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think that just because she had breasts I could trust her.
“Don’t come closer.” I held the scissors up, ignoring the way my hand trembled. “We weren’t with those other people, and we have nothing for you to take. We just want to be left alone.”
The man at the front of the group stepped forward, and his face came into view. He was in his late-twenties, possibly pushing thirty, and startlingly attractive, with pale blue eyes and dark hair, and a square jaw that was dotted with a few days’
stubble.
“We’re not going to hurt you.” He had the flashlight in one hand, which he kept pointed to the floor, but he raised the other to show he wasn’t armed. “We’re here to help.”
“We don’t need help,” I lied. “We just need to be left alone.”
He took another step, moving his hand as he did, slowly, like he was trying to show me he wasn’t going for a weapon. It still made my heart thump harder.
“It’s okay. We’re like you.” He pushed the sleeve of his shirt up until it was above his bicep, then moved the flashlight to illuminate his skin. Or, more accurately, the crescent scar on his arm. “We’re immune, too, and we’re here to help.”
To be continued…
Acknowledgments
Revisiting the city of Altus was fun, if not somewhat challenging this time around. I’d planned on putting this book out much earlier, but family and personal responsibilities forced me to put it off for a little bit. Not just once, but twice. To say I’m relieved to finally have it done is an understatement! I hope it’s worth the wait.
A very big thank you goes to Jan Strohecker for being my first reader and giving me a big dose of honesty. During the writing of this book, I had a lot going on, and the first draft was definitely not my best work. Thanks to Jan, I was able to read it again (and immediately see that she was right), and fix the issues with plot and characters. Not only that, but while chatting with her about the series, she was able to give me some great ideas for the next book. Thank you so much, Jan, for not only reading it once, but twice, for your invaluable input, your proofreading, your ideas, and most of all, your time. I truly appreciate it!
Just like before, the places I wrote about are real and actually exist in Altus, OK. When we lived there, my husband was a C-17 instructor pilot, and I’ve been inside one of the planes on multiple occasions, so not only did I want to make sure they played a part in this story, but also I thought one would be a fantastic place for a group to live.
Thank you also to Laura Johnsen, Carey Monroe, and Mary Jones for being early readers. I really wanted to get some readers who have been to the area to give the novel a once-over before publication, and all three of these ladies have either lived in or still live in Altus, which was perfect! Thanks also to Courtnee McGrew, Karen Atkinson, and Tina Young for reading through in search of typos. Your enthusiasm is amazing!
I also want to give a shout out to Lori Whitwam, my wonderful editor, and Amber Garcia, whose PR skills know no limits. Thanks for working with me and being so amazing at everything you do!
Another big thank you has to go to Dean Samed at NeoStock Photos for the stock photos. It’s so hard to find stock images with women holding weapons where they aren’t dressed sexy, or even worse, completely naked. I found this group thanks to the suggestions of some really amazingly supportive Indie authors, and it’s been a huge help. Not just for the stock images, but for the Photoshop tutorials. I love designing my own covers not just because it’s cheaper, but because it’s fun, and thanks to NeoStock, my skills are getting so much better!
Last but not least, my family. While I loved writing this book, it was a struggle in the beginning because I kept comparing it to Broken World and wondering how the fans would react. My husband, as always, was helpful and encouraging, while my kids did their best to stay out of my way so I could finish by my deadline. Thanks for being so supportive!
The Sweetest Torment
Book Three in The Oklahoma Wastelands Series
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Bonus Content
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Acknowledgments
Published by Twisted Press, LLC, an independently owned company.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Kate L. Mary
Cover Art by Kate L. Mary
Edited by Lori Whitwam
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Prologue
Nine Years Ago
“Run, Regan!” Kellan shouted. “Run and don’t look back!”
He was ahead of me, charging down the street, not waiting or even looking to see if I was behind him. I pumped my legs harder, trying to catch up, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t. He was older and faster and stronger. He was everything I wasn’t.
My feet pounded against the road, but I couldn’t hear my own footsteps over the moans. Those things were right behind us. So close their stink filled my nostrils with every breath I sucked in. They were after us. They wanted to bite us. To eat us. They weren’t alive, but they were still hungry. Desperate.
They were zombies.
A sob burst out of me, shaking my body, and tears filled my eyes, blurring the world in front of me. I tried to wipe them away as I ran, but it was no use. More tears followed, and they kept coming, harder and faster until catching my breath was impossible. Hiccupped sobs came next, making me gasp in panic as I tried to fill my lungs, tried to stay calm. Tried to stay focused. It didn’t work.
Then my toe caught on something—a crack in the road, maybe—and my body pitched forward. I reached for Kellan as I fell, knowing he was too far ahead and it was no use, but trying to find him anyway.
This was it. This was how I died.
“Kellan!” I screamed just before my body slammed into the hard pavement.
I rolled, my bare legs scraping against the road, my elbows and knees grinding against pebbles and other debris. Twice my body rotated before I came to a painful stop. When I did, I tried to push myself up. Tried to make my arms and legs obey. It was no use. I scrambled forward a few steps only to tumble down again, exhausted and shaky and too hurt to move.
Five feet in front of me, Kellan skittered to a stop and turned, gasping for breath. His bronzed cheeks had reddened from exertion, and his dark hair was plastered to his face with sweat. I waited for him to come back, but he just stood there, staring first at me and then at the zombies barreling toward us. They were so close. Ten feet, maybe less. They were coming. They were going to get me.
“Please,” I gasped, holding my hand out as I struggled to get up.
He swore and shook his head once before running to me. It took less than ten seconds for him to reach me, and he grasped my hand and pulled me to my feet.
“Run!” he screamed, taking off again, keeping hold of my hand as he did.
I struggled to keep up. My entire body throbbed, my lungs burned, my head was pounding from the heat and lack of water. It felt like I hadn’t had a drink in a week even though I knew it had only been a little over a day, and every move, every breath, every tiny gesture took effort.
We ran a little farther before I stumbled again, but this time I was able to stay on my feet thanks to Kellan’s support. He cursed and pulled me to the right, off the road toward a house. It was a sprawling one-story brick home with a matching four-foot w
all cutting across the yard. The thing was only four feet high, but it was sturdy and would be more than enough to keep the dead out. Assuming we could get over it.
Kellan rushed to a black wrought iron gate, slamming his shoulder against it, but the thing didn’t budge.
“Up!” he yelled, nodding to the brick wall.
He released my hand, and I looked over my shoulder. The zombies were closer now. Close enough that I could see their milky eyes, vacant and yet somehow focused at the same time.
I wanted to cry again, but I forced the tears down. Kellan had run to the fence and was already pulling himself up with ease. He waited at the top, his hand out, motioning for me to take it.
“Now, Regan! Take my hand.”
I did, and he tugged, straining to pull me up. My free hand was on the wall, my arms straining to drag my weight up as my feet struggled to find purchase on the brick. My hand slipped from Kellan’s, and I fell, my backside landing on the ground with a painful thud that vibrated through me, forming new bruises on top of the ones I already had. But there was no time to lick my wounds. I had to move. I had to get up. Now.
I pushed myself to my feet and threw my body forward, grabbing Kellan’s hand once again, knowing there was no room for error this time. Either I made it to the top of the fence, or I was dead.
The Oklahoma Wastelands Series Box Set | Books 1-3 Page 56
