SINCE THE DEAD ROSE

MAYA RILEY

Thanks to Stacey Brutger for watching zombie movies with me on that rainy day in Vermont. This is all your fault.

Since The Dead Rose: Song of the Dead book 1 © 2024 by Jessica Campagna / Maya Riley

This is a work of fiction and is for mature audiences only. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced in, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any mechanical, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

Cover Design by Jessica Campagna

1

GRIFFIN

The decaying heart of the city has never been forgiving, even less so since the dead rose two hundred and sixty-five days ago. I’ve been keeping track.

Since then, it’s been the same old story. The dead rise, three friends find each other after going through terrors that they won’t speak of, and—the sound of smacking gum has me turning around and eyeing down the two dicks I call my best friends. Max catches my glare and grins at me before continuing to loudly chew his gum.

“Are you trying to attract the dead?”

A gleam shines in his eyes and I realize how stupid my question was, knowing him. “How much more fun would that be? Fighting our way through a horde of rotters in the heart of the city. We’ll end up in history books.”

“Hate to break it to you, but history books aren’t a thing anymore. No one’s around to update them, anyway,” William whispers from the shadows, making Max pout.

It didn’t take long after the dead rose before people realized they’re attracted to sound and repelled by fire. Which is why so many towns, cities, buildings, and forests burned to the ground. Survivors tried to herd all the rotters into one place to rid the world of them. Unfortunately, they could never retain control of the fires. Amateurs.

This city is one of the few still standing. Well, the buildings are. Mostly.

Cities like this are the most dangerous. They’re crawling with more rotters than could be manageable. If someone were to get the attention of even one of them, it would turn into a tidal wave of decaying, writhing bodies with snapping teeth, desperate to feed on flesh and spread the virus. Therefore, most places like these have remained untouched the last two-hundred-something days. It’s best left that way. Leave the rotters here to rot.

In the beginning, there were games. People competed to see who could gather the most supplies without getting bit. Those people aren’t around anymore. Well, some are, but as rotters themselves. Max’s only regret is that he didn’t get a chance to play.

“You’re insane,” I mumble.

Max grins, showing the gum firmly clenched between his teeth at the side of his mouth. “Thanks for the compliment.”

I hold out my knife; the tip pointing toward him in a faux threat, though I’m serious. “Don’t get us killed.”

William, looking annoyed at Max’s newest antics, elbows him in the ribs to get him to react. Max fake pouts, then swallows the gum and holds his arm out in front of us for me to go ahead. “Age before beauty.” Keeping my mouth shut, I face forward again and continue leading the way through the shattered streets. My eyes never stop scanning for threats. There are rotters all over the place. They’re standing still, lying on the ground, or snacking on a bird that made the mistake of landing here. As long as we’re quiet, they won’t sense us.

Metal clangs behind me and I turn around to scowl at Max, but it’s William who’s staring at the can on the ground by his foot, a panicked expression on his face.

“Get inside,” I order through gritted teeth. Max looks disappointed that we’re not using this opportunity for a playground with the dead, and that scares me. He wasn’t this reckless before the dead rose. I’m actually surprised he’s survived this long, but someone with the weapons skills that he has won’t be easy to kill. Good thing, because I only have these two people left in the world who I can trust with my life. Even if one of them is a little unhinged and gets under my skin.

We get inside the mall that’s the object of our scavenging mission and take the stairs to the second floor. There’s never anything on the ground level of buildings anymore. The higher up we go, the better our chance is of finding something useful. Maybe food, maybe clothing, hell, maybe even a damn book to help pass the time.

The groans from the rotters disappear the farther away we get. “Our time here is limited now that we’ve gotten their attention.” I keep my voice low as my two friends practically strain to hear me. “We need to find whatever is useful and get the hell out.”

“Sweeeeeet,” Max whisper-yells before breaking the lock on a glass case that contains various weapons, shattering the case. “My bad.”

A low moan sounds from behind him and I move forward but he winks at me, pulls a morning star from the pile of broken glass, and swings it around, landing the spiked ball at the end of it right through the skull of the dead man about to grab him. The rotter drops to the ground, officially dead now, and Max yanks the weapon from his skull with a sickening pop.

Max raises the morning star into the air to inspect it, though we really can’t see much in this dim light. “That was epic. I think I’m going to call you Debbie.”

“If I hear one more sound, I’ll take off your head myself,” I warn him.

He pushes his shoulders back in a challenge, but before he can do much else, music—actual music that I haven’t heard in months—blares through the air. I nearly fall back from the shock of it. I think I’d even forgotten what actual music used to sound like. It’s loud, blaring, with a strong beat and a woman singing.

Max holds up his hands with his newly acquired weapon. “Wasn’t me.”

William is already out of the little shop. He only stops long enough to kill the nearest rotter on his way to the railing that overlooks the center of the mall. I’m a step behind, and I have to blink a few times at the sight I see when I reach the railing and look down below.

This mall is large, several stories high. It used to be bustling with life less than a year ago—I assume, like most shopping areas in most cities were—but the building careened downhill when the dead rose. It didn’t turn to ash in a fire like most others, but the walls crumbled from cars, weapons, even the occasional grenade. News stations covered the chaos and carnage before they all went under.

Weeds and vines grow through the cracks in the tiles and along the walls. Mystery substances coat a lot of visible surfaces. Even with all of that, I still never expected to see a car parked in the center of the wide open lower level. Lights shining, music blaring through the rolled down windows and open car doors, and a woman dancing away from the commotion. Her long brown hair swirls around in the air as she spins, her hips swaying, dancing to the music and killing any rotter that gets too close with a long spear. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

The music is a stark contrast to the surrounding desolation. She moves with a grace and ferocity that has Max gripping the railing with one hand, and his pants with the other, a star-struck grin on his face. She shoves the spear through the skull of another rotter and pulls it free before spinning twice on her heels again and continuing her death dance. I know little about dance moves, but I think she even does one of those fancy pirouette things I used to see in movies back when movies existed. Her movements are almost…joyful.

She’s pretty. She’s skilled. She’s going to get us all killed.

“What a woman,” Max breathes out, leaning farther out.

William grabs the back of Max’s jacket to hold him back. “Down, boy. Falling for her doesn’t need to be literal.”

I barely pay attention to them, my gaze fixed on the woman and her dance with death.

“Can we keep her?” Max asks, his voice almost giddy.

“We need to stop her.” I grip the railing so tightly that the metal creaks.

A rotter reaches the car and bangs on the hood, setting off the panic setting. The lights go crazy and the woman’s dancing turns even more joyful. I need to put an end to this. If she wants to get herself killed, then she should do it when there isn’t anyone else around wanting to stay alive.

I turn and head for the stairs, flying down them so fast that I’m not sure if my feet even touch the steps. I know better than to go running down there like this, but I can’t stand by and watch someone else get senselessly killed. There are enough deaths staining my hands already.

Letting that thought fuel me, I spot the girl and come to a halt. My blood boils at her carelessness. I don’t understand how she could be this reckless, attracting so many rotters only to dance with them? She acts like this is a freaking end of the world ball. She’s more insane than Max. It’s impressive, confusing, and annoying as fuck.

“Well, are we going to let her fight them all on her own?” William asks when he catches up to me. He slams his knife through the skull of a rotter coming up on our right, while I’m still preoccupied with the new brown-haired bane of my existence.

“Looks like she’s having a party. I want to join.” Max twirls his new morning star around and slams it into the head of another rotter. They’re now all pouring in through the doors. If we don’t hurry, nobody is getting out of here alive.

Knowing they’ll follow my lead, I run forward and start taking out the rotters closest to me. I’ve had two hundred and sixty-five days of practice, but it pisses me off that I’m having to do this. This wasn’t part of my plan for the day.

The girl hasn’t noticed us yet, but we’re running out of time. There’s no way the four of us will clear this area easily with how quickly the rotters keep stumbling in. We need to destroy the source.

When I get to the car, I take out the rotters near the driver’s side door before killing the engine and ripping the key out of the ignition. The girl’s head turns so sharply that it catches me off guard, but not nearly as much as her soft amber eyes that widen when she sees me. Her wild hair flies freely around her face. It’s a hazard. Does this woman know nothing about survival?

I stand tall and straighten my spine, ready for whatever kind of confrontation we’re about to have, which will have to wait because rotters are still stumbling toward us from all directions. She’s made an absolute mess of our lives tonight.

She’s still too far away, but with her gaze locked on me, she doesn’t see the threat behind her getting closer. I can’t get to her in time.

“Behind you!” I shout out a warning, but it’s too late. The rotter falls against her, knocking her to the ground. Her spear flies across the ground. She doesn’t get up.

Max gets to her first. He swings his new morning star to connect with the rotter’s skull before it can bite her. I’m running forward, ignoring the rotters that are now following me after my outburst, and fall to my knees next to her. My fingers press against her neck, and I sigh with relief when I feel a steady pulse. A few drops of blood trickle down the side of her face from a cut on her temple, but she seems otherwise unhurt, only knocked unconscious. That’s okay, we can deal with that later.

“New game,” Max says, swinging the morning star through the air before connecting it with another rotter. He sweeps his shoulder-length dark hair to the side of his face, smearing blood along his cheek. “You play the prince who stays with the sleeping beauty, and Willie and I will be the dragons protecting her.”

“It’s William,” William grinds out through his clenched teeth. “And two humans against hundreds of dead aren’t the odds I want to play with.”

Max heaves a high. “Fine. I’ll just have to throw sleeping beauty over my shoulder and play both prince and dragon.”

“We’re not fighting,” I say, and Max places a hand over his heart like I’ve offended him. Ignoring him, I scoop the woman into my arms and hold her close to my chest while I stand. “We’re getting out of here. And for the love of the living, be quiet,” I whisper-yell before taking off toward our car.

Remaining silent while dodging rotters that are still pouring in from the commotion, I dart around them when they turn toward me, dart below their outstretched hands, and veer away from their snapping teeth. I remain quick on my feet, completing the most deadly obstacle course I’ve ever attempted.

If we move fast enough, we might put enough distance between us that the rotters in the city lose interest. It’s a short half-mile sprint, but our silence and distance finally gets the rotters off our backs. They go back to milling about, waiting for another dumbass to draw their attention. I look down at the unconscious girl in my arms and feel a mixture of rage and pity. What could have been so bad that she thought this was the only way out? Or was she merely having fun, like Max would have been if I hadn’t been there?

Whatever her reasoning, she’ll need to pay for what happened. All the supplies we lost out on, not to mention nearly losing our lives to save hers, a maniac stranger with a death wish.

2

EMILY

My head pounds with the force of something fierce. I scrunch my eyes together and try to remember what happened. I remember brick walls, wooden floorboards, and a low fire. Holding Zoey’s hand and promising her I’ll find her medicine and return. Finding a shopping center that should’ve been untouched enough by survivors due to the drastically increasing amount of rotters, that I should’ve had a chance at finding what I needed. A man turning off the music and putting all of us at risk.

My eyes pop open, but I’m met with pure darkness. I reach out and feel a felt interior beneath me and around me, and a cool metal above me. I’m boxed in.

There’s a jolt and then I’m thrown to the side. Low murmurs come through one wall. The roar of an engine as we pick up speed. I’m in the freaking trunk of a car.

Everything comes rushing back to me. How I was drawing the rotters all to one location so I could have a free run of the shopping center, but then some dipshit ruined that. I was so stunned to see him standing by my car staring at me that something—or someone—must’ve knocked me out. Judging by the murmuring voices, there are at least two of them. Maybe more.

I roam my hand over myself. My clothes are intact. My knife is…no, it’s not here. Neither is my spear. I could’ve dropped them when I passed out. I reach down to my boot and feel inside, but the one I hid there is also gone. So is the backpack I had. Panic surges through me and I paw at my chest, subsiding only when my fingers feel the circular shape of the compass I keep on me. I pull it out from beneath my shirt and I think I’m looking down at it, but it’s too dark to see. At least it’s still there. They didn’t take that, too.

Turning to face the direction of the murmured voices, I pound on the wall as hard as I can and scream. The voices cease and only the low hum of the engine can be heard. I scream and shout. “Let me out of here or I’ll kill you all!”

Okay, probably not the best way to smooth things over with my captors, but I’m angry and scared.

Fear runs through me as a chill settles over my skin. They could have killed me, even left me for dead among the rotters, but they went through the trouble of stripping me of my weapons and supplies and bringing me with them to wherever it is they’re going. That last part scares me more than being left behind and unconscious. I have better odds against the dead than I do against the living. This new world has brought about the worst in people. I’ve met many who I never want to cross paths with again. Whoever is on the other side of this wall I’m banging on has added themselves to that list.

“Let me out of here.” I shift myself around so I can kick. There’s usually a latch that folds the middle of the seat down to reveal the trunk to the rest of the car. Maybe if I can kick it hard enough from this side, it’ll come undone and free me. Then I can take out my captors. I don’t know how, with no weapons, but I’m sure as hell not going down without a fight.

There’s a chuckle followed by a low, soft timbre. “Careful, sleeping beauty. Don’t want you to hurt yourself. We’re not in an area that we’ll be able to stop and help you if so.”

The car speeds up, and we run over a big bump. And then another. There’s a chorus of moans. No, those aren’t bumps. They’re straight up running over rotters.

“Your screaming has gotten us a bit of an audience, so be a doll and stay quiet for a little while longer. We’re almost there.”

My heart hammers in my chest. Where is there, exactly? I give one last powerful kick before letting my head fall back in defeat. If they die, then I’ll never get out of this trunk. I’d much rather die fighting than to starve to death in a box.

Resigning, I flip my body over and crouch as much as the space allows me to, and wait. I refuse to die here. I’ll kill every single one of these people who took me, weapons or not. There are people counting on me to return with the supplies I promised I would get.

The car rumbles to a stop.

Doors open and close.

Leaves crunch beneath footsteps that are getting closer.

My heart pounds.

The world feels so still that for a moment I’m not sure if I’m still breathing.

Someone messes with something on the other side and then daylight nearly blinds me. It was the early morning hours last I remembered, so I’m not sure how many hours I’ve been out. Is it still the same day?

Not wasting any time, I leap from the trunk and sail through the air with all the grace of a drunk seagull before landing crouched in the dirt. I throw my leg out at the same time I spin around, kicking out and knocking someone to the ground beside me. Success.

When I get up to run, he wraps his hands around my ankle and I fall face first into the dirt, slamming my nose and chin onto the ground.

“You’re hurting her more than the rotters would have,” a gentle voice says before a man matching the voice crouches down in front of me. He has blond hair pulled back into a bun, exposing a kind face. His pale blue eyes study my face when he reaches out to touch my chin. I wince, and he sighs. “I apologize for my friend here. He’s doesn’t make the best first impression.” He glances off to the side, then back at me. “Neither of them do.”

I swat his hand away from my face and am dragged along the dirt before being flipped over onto my back. I suddenly regret changing from jean pants to jean shorts before leaving home. I thought it would make it easier to run around in, but the tiny sharp rocks in the dirt seem to have transformed into piranhas.

Hands plant themselves on either side of my head. The sun disappears when a large man hovers over me. The empty gray eyes that were the last thing I saw before waking up in the trunk of a car. The dark gray shirt stretching over a muscled torso belonging to the man who turned off my music. I hate him. I hate everything about him.

“Are you going to behave?”

“Depends on what you’re going to do with me. At least give me my weapons back before you try to kill me.”

His brows furrow. I want to cut off those brows. They’re stupid brows. “What are you talking about? We saved you.”

“Saved me?” I scoff. “You nearly got me killed, then you drag me out to the middle of nowhere, strip me of my weapons, and pin me down.”

His features harden, and the lines around his eyes deepen. “You nearly got us killed, pulling a stunt like that.”

“You’re delusional.”

“You’re reckless.”

“Can I play with her yet?” We both look to the side to see a third man crouching down, his elbows resting on his knees while he twirls a dagger with the pointy end in the dirt. His side-swept jet black hair looks like it hasn’t been combed since before the dead rose. It’s sticking up in random directions, but it’s the grin on his face that sends a shiver running through me. Until my gaze shoots back to the dagger.

“Hey, that’s my dagger.” I reach out for it, but he pulls it out of my reach.

“Tsk tsk. Boss man says I have to keep this safe from you.”

“That’s not what I said, Max.” The man above me scowls but then looks down at me. His gaze flicks to my compass before looking back at my eyes. “I want answers from you, but first we need to set up camp, and you’re helping.”

“I don’t want to.”

“If you want Mr. Pointy back, you will,” Max taunts.

“You named my dagger?”

“Of course I did. He’s a beaut. He’s seen a lot of action, too, but he’s gotten dull, so I’ll sharpen him for you first.”

“That’s because you’re grinding it against the dirt, you dumbass.”

He holds his free hand against his chest, feigning hurt. “I’m offended. But I’ll forgive you, don’t worry. We’ll become best friends, like Mr. Pointy is with Debbie.”

I can’t even begin to think of a response to that.

The man above me disappears and the blond man steps up, holding a hand out to me, which I hesitantly grab. He pulls me to my feet. Not rough, like the gray-eyed asshole would have, but gently. He even steadies me on my feet before pulling his hands away. “Don’t worry about them. We won’t hurt you.”

“What makes you think I won’t hurt you?”

One corner of his mouth tilts up into a half smile. “You probably will, but we’re not the ones who’ll make the first strike.”

I wipe sweat from my brow with the back of my hand and feel something odd. My fingers trace the foreign object up to my temple. I think it’s a Band-Aid, but why?

“You hit your head when you fell,” William says, answering my unspoken question.

“I’ve fallen a lot since meeting you.”

A sad but kind smile graces his lips. “I mean the first time, when you realized we were there. When we got to the car, I fixed up your head before he set you in the trunk.”

“He put a hurt, bleeding, unconscious girl in the trunk. Doesn’t seem like a wise choice.”

“I agree.” He pounds another stake into the ground, and I look around me at the campsite. It started off as a clearing but now has two tents set up and bare spots in a circle around them that Max cleared the grass out of to make a fire in each. The man in question throws a smirk at me over his shoulder before disappearing into the tree line to collect more wood. I’ve only been held captive by these men for half a day, but something about him both fascinates me and terrifies me at the same time.

“There should still be another bag in the car with the third tent. Want to grab that, Em?” William asks, smoothing a strand of sweaty blond hair back along his head and standing up. He’s been the kindest to me. He was even the first one to ask me for my name. Yet the surly one who seems to be the leader here, I still don’t know his. Not that I plan to stick around long enough to find out.

“Sure.” I turn to head back toward the car and dig around in the backseat for the bag with the tent. When I tug it toward me, it knocks against another bag that isn’t closed all the way, so the contents spill out. Cans of beans, vegetables, fruits, pieces of carved wood, and more spill out all over the place. But it’s the Ziploc bag with bottles of medication that catches my attention and I dig through it without a second thought, then toss them down in frustration when they’re not anything I need.

I left my little safe community with the promise to return with the medicine needed to help Zoey. It’s been near impossible to find since all the typical places have already been picked through in the last two hundred and sixty-five days that the world changed, but I haven’t given up hope.

Shoving the fallen contents back into the bag they fell out of and then reaching for the tent bag, I raise my head and look around. Everyone is busy setting up camp. They’re all focused on their tasks. Nobody is paying attention to me. I don’t know where I am or how far we’d driven, especially since I was unconscious for part of it. Not to mention locked away the whole time.

I look over the seat and see the key still in the ignition. Light beams down from the sky and I’m pretty sure I can hear angels singing. I can’t help the smile on my face. I also can’t believe they were dumb enough to leave the key in the ignition when they have a hostage. It’s almost as if they expect me to do it. If I was a better person, then I wouldn’t, but today I’m not. I have people relying on me for their survival, so before I can go over the pros and cons, I climb between the seats until I’m in the driver’s seat and turn the engine.

A thrill shoots through me when I feel the rumble of the car coming to life and I put it into drive. I should dump their supplies out first, otherwise I’ll be stealing it.

On second thought, they owe me.

Slamming my foot against the gas, I run over a bump in the ground and then gasp when Max runs out in front of the car. I actually believe he’s crazy enough to let himself get run over. Instead of stopping, I press down harder on the gas, and then my door flies open before the car can move faster. A pair of hands pull me out of the car right as Max jumps up onto the hood.

My back slams against the side of the car and the angry leader guys’ face gets close to mine, his hands fisted in the front of my shirt, holding me in place. His expression and the way he pushes against me tell me he’s pissed, but his empty gray eyes tell a different story which catches my focus. This isn’t the first time he’s been this close, but it’s the first time I notice the scar running down the side of his left cheek. It happened some time ago so it’s healed, but looks recent enough to have happened after the world changed. Curious, and without thinking, I raise my hand and run one fingertip down the length of it, feeling the raised ridges beneath my skin.

His eyes narrow, not leaving my face. “What are you doing?”

“This looks like it hurt once upon a time. Do you still feel it?” I tear my gaze away from the scar and meet his that’s watching me with curiosity and a slight annoyance.

“Only when I sleep.”

“That’s when I feel my scars, too,” I whisper.

He tugs my hand away from his face and I expect him to drop my hand, but I feel a cool metal band clasp around my wrist instead. Looking down, I gasp when I see that I’m now handcuffed to him. “What are you doing?”

“I save your life and you repay me by stealing my car and destroying my food.”

“What destroyed food? I put it all back in the bag,” I argue.

He motions with his head toward the ground a few feet away and I see the contents of a few busted cans spilling out over the ground. Oh, so that’s what I ran over.

“Oops.”

“You can repay it by helping us replace it. Luckily, that wasn’t everything we have.”

“So I’m just going to be handcuffed to you for…”

“Until I see fit. Now come on, we have another tent to finish setting up.” He reaches inside the car for the tent bag and then tugs me behind him as he leads the way back to the clearing. William stands in the middle of the campsite, watching us with his arms crossed over his broad chest, a look of interest on his face. He probably got a fun show of my failed escape.

“This is ridiculous,” I mumble.

Max falls into stride beside me, twirling around his morning star on his other side with a grin on his face and a few strands of his pitch black hair framing his vibrant green eyes. “Next time you try for something fun like that, give me a heads up, will ya? I want to see if I can fly all the way over the car next time.”

“You’re insane,” I say, but that only makes him grin wider.

“Collect enough firewood yet?” The surly one asks, and Max slinks off with a disappointed sigh.

Setting up a tent while handcuffed to someone is a level of difficulty I never want to experience again. This is ridiculous. Absolute insanity. Once the task is finished, I raise my wrist that’s connected to his and wait.

“Waiting for something?”

“I did what you asked, so now can you let me out of this thing?”

“Nope.” He tugs on the short chain between us, forcing me to follow him inside the tent. He busies himself by setting up a sleeping bag with blankets and pillows. I’m really just along for the ride at this point.

“Can we go into town so I can replace your precious cans and get out of this thing?” I try again.

“Nope.”

I yank on the cuffs connecting us, forcing him to look at me. “Is there anything I can do to get out of this for the night? At least hide the car keys from me so I can’t escape. It’s not my fault you left them in the ignition.”

“Like that’ll stop you. So far, the only thing I’ve seen from you is putting yourself in danger. You’re now stuck with me for your own safety.” He goes back to laying blankets down.

My own safety? That catches me off guard. I don’t even know how to respond to that. Surely he can’t be that concerned over a complete stranger. I’m certainly not that concerned about them.

“Think that’ll be enough blankets for you, princess?”

“I have a name.”

He shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He walks out of the tent, forcing me to follow behind him. What is that even supposed to mean?

“Do I not get my own tent?”

He laughs and shakes his head as though I’ve said the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “Absolutely not.”

“So I’m staying chained to you the entire night?”

“Now you’re catching on.”

Holding up my free hand in the air, I make a motion like I’m strangling him. I doubt I could get my hand all the way around his neck. I’ll figure out another way to get out of this mess while he’s sleeping.

The sun is lowering toward to the horizon by the time we’ve sat down in front of the fire. Max made it a pretty pleasant area and I’m impressed. There are four large logs in a square surrounding the fire in one of the small holes he’d dug in the ground, and he stacked a nice little pile of wood to last us at least a few days. He also dug smaller holes that make up a circle around the campsite, each with their own little wood pile next to them, to keep the rotters at bay. So far, the only thing effective against them, other than a knife through the skull or decapitation, is fire.

We used to do the same thing back in my community until it backfired on us. The fires repelled the dead but attracted people, and not all the living that are left are good. Many of the living are even more dangerous than the dead. However, none of the living has confused me more than the three in front of me.

3

WILLIAM

Emily sits on the log next to Griffin, who’s pretending like she doesn’t exist. I’m sure that if she had a choice, she would choose the log farthest away from him. But he had to go and give her a metal bracelet. He’s concerned that she’s a danger to herself, but I think it might all be a misunderstanding. She has far too much fight in her to give up like that, and she’s too smart for her mind to be gone.

I haven’t done much since the dead rose. I practically became a lawn ornament after Griffin found me and gave me a reason to fight. That’s all I needed, was a reason, even a small one. I wonder what her reason is.

She stares into the fire, deep in thought. She’s so lost in her head that she doesn’t notice me walking toward her, or the bowl of stew I hand out to her. It makes me curious to know what’s going on in her head. Even more than that. I need to know. It’s a strange feeling that I’m not used to, not with anyone outside of my two friends.

I sit down next to her on the log, which is becoming fairly crowded now, spurring her from her thoughts. She startles and looks at me like she forgot there was anyone else around, and when I hold out the bowl of stew to her, she looks down at it with guilt. “I didn’t expect to get anything tonight. I destroyed some of your food, after all, and that’s not easily replaceable.”

“Did you do it on purpose?” I ask. She shakes her head. I thrust the bowl into her hands, forcing her to take it. Then I hold out a plastic camping spoon. “You didn’t intentionally harm us, so we won’t intentionally harm you.”

She takes the spoon from me in surprise and whispers, “Thank you.” Then she gulps it down so fast that I hand her mine next. “I can’t eat yours. You need food, too.”

“I ate mine already, this is only what was left over.” It’s a lie, but she clearly needs it more than I do. Besides, it’s not like we don’t still have more food. We may not be rolling in an endless supply, but we always have something. I’ll find something else to eat later.

She finishes my bowl of stew and then sets it down on the ground with the first one. The motion causes a tug on the handcuffs, so Griffin looks over at her for the first time tonight, and I take the opportunity to help her out some.

“My name’s William. What’s yours?”

She looks at me quizzically. We exchanged names earlier, but when I nod toward the man beside her, she catches on and plays my game. “Emily.”

“Nice to meet you, Emily. The one over there inspecting his new toy,” I nod toward Max sitting on the ground against the log on the other side of the fire and playing with the morning star, “is Max. The guy you’re chained to is Griffin.”

She gives me a small smile. Griffin hasn’t made her feel welcome in the least, and that irks me. This is the first time since the dead rose that we’ve had a stranger stay with us. We should have been more welcoming, whether or not it’s against their will. Instead, all we’ve done is treat her in a way that makes her want to run, and I don’t like that. We shouldn’t have to lose all of our humanity in order to survive. It’s clear that she isn’t interested in hurting us. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere safe,” Griffin answers, and Emily rolls her eyes. Then he catches my glare over her head and clears his throat. “About a couple hundred miles from where we picked you up, give or take.”

The blood drains from her face so fast that it nearly turns translucent in the firelight. I scoot an inch closer to her. “Is there something, or someone, back there that we took you from?”

The look in her amber eyes tells me I’ve hit the nail on the head. “Who is it?” She leans forward with her elbows resting on her thighs, wringing her fingers together. I reach out a hand and cover hers. “A family member? A boyfriend?”

She takes a few more moments to answer, and when she does, her voice is low. “A friend. She’s sick.”

“How sick?” I ask, leaning in closer.

“She really needs this medicine.”

“So that’s a no on the boyfriend front, then?” Max plops down on the ground in front of her, a grin on his face. He moves the empty bowls to the side. I’m not the violent type when it comes to my friends, but I have the urge to punch him in this moment.

A strained laugh is her response. “The last guy who tried to be my boyfriend ended up only doing it to use me. Took all the supplies and left the gate open, letting the place flood with rotters. That was almost sixty-nine days ago.”

“That’s a fun number,” Max says darkly, but he’s void of all humor.

“No, wait…which day is it? The dead rose⁠—”

“Two hundred and sixty-five days ago,” Griffin says, his words sharp enough to cut stone.

“Sixty-seven days ago, then.”

Griffin’s body tenses on the other side of hers, and I can see the muscles in his forearm flex when he makes a fist. He glances at her with incredulity, as do I. Griffin is the only person I’ve known to keep track of the days like that. Her doing that too wars with the information that someone was so cruel to her, something that we understand more than I wish we did.

This kind of information is something that’ll make us set the world on fire for a girl we don’t even know. It hits us harder than she may ever understand. I can feel the fire melting into lava deep inside of me with the need to find this person and rid the world of his presence. An anger I didn’t realize I have erupts inside of me, but I force it down. She doesn’t need anyone else blowing up at her right now. Griffin is more than enough. So I squeeze her hand, and she turns her amber eyes on me. “I’m sorry that someone did that to you, Emily. I don’t know you, but I can guarantee you didn’t deserve that.”

A soft smile crosses her face. It’s faint, but this time it’s genuine. “Thank you.”

“Is that why you tried to off yourself?” Max asks in his eloquent way.

Emily’s eyes widen. “I—what? No, I didn’t try to do that. Why would you think such a thing?”

“Then what the fuck were you doing drawing in a city full of rotters like that? In case you missed it two hundred and sixty days ago, when it was mentioned, they’re attracted to sound. Loud noises. Music.”

“I’m well aware of that, you stubborn asshole,” Emily fires back with her hands in the air, forcing Griffin on balance. “Which is exactly why I did that. I was drawing them all into that mall so I could have free rein to search the city without issue.”

Griffin’s jaw drops. It’s rare I see him speechless. It makes me want to shout at him I was right, but I’m not that kind of asshole. “Told you so.” Okay, so maybe I am.

Max scoots his ass across the dirt to get closer to her. He has the grin he gets when he’s up to no good. “I knew it. My girl’s a genius.”

“Your girl?” Emily snaps at him.

“Yes. I call dibs.”

“When?” I ask.

“Right now.” He grabs onto Emily’s calves, massaging the muscles and looking up at her.

I reach down to grab the bowls and then toss them at Max, forcing him to let go of her and catch them. “Clean up.”

Emily watches me with surprise. The order is out of character for me, but I know Max. He was hit far more deeply than Griffin and I were, and I know that look in his eyes more than I know myself. He wants blood, whether the blood is innocent, dead, or alive. It doesn’t matter; he wants to spill it. The story she gave us about someone betraying her like that isn’t something that any of us are going to forget, but it’s even worse for Max. Giving him something to do is the best thing for him right now, though I can guarantee he won’t rest until he hunts down this guy. Just another name to add to his revenge list.

“The food was good. Thank you for it,” Emily says.

“You’re very welcome. When was the last time you ate?”

Her eyes lift to the corner while she thinks. “Couple days, probably. I left with a bag full of food, but it wasn’t long before people who thought they deserved it more than me caught me.”

Her thumb pushes against the handcuff and I lift her hand so the metal cuff slides down her arm barely enough to expose the small burn mark on her wrist. “They did this to you?” She nods and I place a kiss on the wound. When I lift my head, I see Griffin glaring at me. The look he has makes me want to kiss her right on the mouth just to see how angry I can make him, but I won’t play with her like that. She deserves more than three broken men playing games with her. “We have a first aid kit that should still have something useful in it. I can grab it for you.”

“Don’t waste it on me. That would be pointless. It’s basically healed over already. It still itches a little is all and the cuff doesn’t help.” Her eyes narrow at the mention of the cuffs.

I chuckle. “While I can’t take that off of you without taking out Griffin in the process, I can apologize that it’s on there in the first place. I found it a few weeks ago when we scavenged an old prison. Thought it could come in use.”

“Well, it’s getting its use, alright. But seriously though, I can’t stay here for long. I need to find that medicine and get back to my friend.”

“Where is your friend?”

Her lips purse together, and she looks down at the dirt.

“Right. Well, since I can’t promise we’ll get you back to your friend, since I don’t know where she’s at, I can promise to try my best to help you find this medicine. The pharmacies in the city got wiped out early on, but we have a few other locations we plan to hit up. Maybe there’ll be something in one of those that could help.”

Her gaze shoots up to me, filled with hope. My chest swells. “You mean it?”

I hold up my hand in a scout’s honor, even though I was never a scout. “I promise to do my best.”

She wraps one arm around me in the tightest hug she can manage. She tries to wrap her other arm around me, but Griffin won’t budge. I return her hug, splaying my hands along her back. “Thank you,” she whispers into my ear. “That means more than you could know.”

I rub my palm in a circle on her back. “It’s the least we could do after kidnapping you, right?”

She slides out of my grip and I instantly miss her warmth, even though we’re sitting by the fire. She glances up at Griffin to see what he has to say about this, but he turns away, avoiding having to respond. He’s likely angry that I promised her something without consulting him first, but he put us all in this position. The least I can do is help her out as much as I can. So I stand up and go get the first aid kit.

4

EMILY

The silence is deafening.

I’m handcuffed to a man who sleeps so soundly that I can’t tell if he’s even asleep. If he is, then he sleeps like the dead.

Scratch that. The dead don’t sleep anymore. Someone needs to create a new saying. I will be that someone. He sleeps like the…living? Well, that doesn’t work either. Screw it. Someone else can be that someone.

The fingers of my free hand tap on the ground at my side. The fabric of the sleeping bag I’m laying on makes such a faint noise when I tap that it almost sounds like thunder in the dead of the night. Even crickets have disappeared. There are crickets back at my colony. There are even some cats, which are nice, but I wish we had dogs. I’m sure they would make the best sidekicks right now, like in the movies. Although with my luck I’d get a dog who would pee himself and hide behind a tree instead of fight, but still, I would protect that pupper with all I had without hesitation. I hope there are still dogs left in this world.

I switch to tapping the side of my leg instead. It’s been hours since we all separated into tents for the night. I fought them at every turn, too, especially when the asshole wouldn’t uncuff me to go to the bathroom. He made me squat behind a tree while he stood behind me—back-to-back, at least—and relieved himself. When he made a joke about how we could bond by holding hands, I yanked my arm and he fell to the damp dirt with his pants sliding down his hips. I thought it was hilarious. That’s when I found out we have different types of humor.

Stilling my fingers, I look over at my captor. The man I’m handcuffed to. The man who put me into the trunk of his car to “save my life”, when any seat inside of the car would have been perfectly fine. The man who doesn’t twitch or make a sound when he sleeps. I’ll never understand people who could fall asleep the moment their head touches the pillow. Or the ground, whatever.

Turning my body, I slowly lift myself up so I’m hovering over him, hands on either side of his torso, and slide my free hand into his pocket. My movements are agonizingly slow in order to keep the handcuffs from clinking together. To my relief, he doesn’t move. He’s definitely asleep. He’s also hard as a rock, holy crap, wrong direction. I freeze. He twitches. Oh no, abort. I slide my hand out.

Now let’s try this again without unintentionally feeling up my captor. I move to his other pocket, careful to avoid brushing against him again.

My fingers slide against a small piece of metal and elation fills me. I’m about to close my fingers around it when a hand wraps around my wrist and pulls it out of the pocket. My eyes lift to see the empty gray eyes of Griffin, wide open and staring straight at me with a look of mixed disappointment.

“You don’t give up, do you?” His voice is raspy and still filled with sleep.

“Never.”

He lets go of my wrist and reaches into his pocket, pulls out the key, and tosses it to the far end of the tent so it’s out of reach. Now I would have to drag his entire body along with me. Anger replaces the panic and I stare daggers down at him. Too bad I don’t have any real daggers. These metaphorical ones don’t have the same effect.

“Asshole.”

“Troublemaker.”

“I have a name.”

“So do I, princess.” He pulls me down so I’m flat against his chest and then closes his eyes. He’s still hard as a rock. How does he sleep with this thing?

“I’m not a princess.”

“Good, because I’m not a king,” he whispers moments before his breathing evens out.

I slide down to the side and flop to the ground beside him, back to where I started. His arm around me is loose and doesn’t hold me back. I lay there on my side for a moment, facing him and studying his features. His stupid features. His stupid short, dark brown hair. His stupid face with the scar running down his left cheek. And the stupid way he makes me wonder how he got that scar, when I wouldn’t give a second thought about it to anyone else.

Holding in a groan of frustration, I decide I’ve waited long enough. Watching his face for the slightest change that shows he’s waking up, I reach my free hand down to my cuffed one, bite my lip, and pop my thumb out of place. I swallow down my cry even when my eyes water. Sliding out of the cuff, I lower it to the ground, careful to not make the metal clank together. I taste blood and realize I bit my lip a little too hard. At least the sting on my lip helps dull the pain in my hand a little. Not much, but a little. Bright side and all that.

I reign in my excitement at my newfound freedom when I climb out of the tent and then tiptoe across the grass. The air is silent. Everything is still so quiet. The others must still be sound asleep in their own tents. It baffles me how they can all sleep so calmly like this when danger lurks around every turn, regardless of all the fires surrounding them, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not my problem. I’m free.

Stopping at the edge of the little campsite, I look back at the tents. They’ll wake up in the morning and realize I’ve slipped away, but by then I should be far enough away that they can’t find me.

Griffin hid the key to the car after my failed escape, so I’ll need to travel on foot until I come by a vehicle I can drive. I haven’t learned how to hot-wire, but I’ve found that many people have left their keys inside their abandoned cars. Then I’ll figure out where exactly I am and start heading back to where I left off. I’ll be a day or two behind, but at least I won’t have to waste any more time on this ridiculousness.

With a relieved sigh and a grin on my lips, I turn and run for my freedom. Too bad my freedom feels like a brick wall.

I stagger backward, and something grabs my arms to keep me from falling. I don’t know when these guys erected a brick wall with tentacles at the edge of this campsite, but a warning would have been nice.

My vision clears—as does my head, and that nonsense about tentacles—and all the excitement I had moments ago fades when the face comes into view. I rub my sore nose and my bleary eyes, then blink up at the grinning face again.

Yup, it’s a face. Not a brick wall. What a disappointment.

The man leans forward until the faint light from the nearest campfire illuminates his long dark hair falling over the shoulders of his lithe form, as wild and untamed as his grin when he looks down at me.

He reaches out and wipes a drop of blood from my lips, his eyes sparkling when he sucks the red liquid off his thumb. “Sleeping beauty awakes.”

Shit.

5

MAX

Well, well, well. This sleepless night has turned out to be more fruitful than I could have predicted. The fear in this fascinating woman’s eyes is at war with the glee I feel at having found her in the middle of her grand escape. How fun it is to be the one to thwart such a feat.

“Seems you’ve slipped your security detail. What’d you do, feel around in his pants until you found the key?” My eyes roam down her body and to her wrists, specifically the wrist that’s no longer wearing a metal bracelet, and they widen with pride.

Releasing my hands from her arms, I grab her wrist with a gentleness that seems to surprise her—which offends me, honestly, because I can be damn gentle when I want to be—and lift it up to get a better look in the starlight.

My grin widens when I see the dislocated thumb. It’s beautiful, all mangled like that. A work of art, really. “You must’ve been so eager to get away that you didn’t bother fixing this first. Not to worry, I can do that for you.” She tugs her hand back, but I tighten my grip around her wrist—causing her to wince in pain—and run my tongue along my lower lip. “You may sneak away from Griffin with ease, but you can’t escape me, no matter how hard you try. Not when I’ve got my claws in you, love.”

“Please, don’t hurt me.”

Her plea excites me. But I won’t hurt her. Unless she wants me to, of course. I’d even let her choose the weapon. I’m a gentleman like that.

Lifting her hand to my lips, I place a chaste kiss on her injured thumb before shoving it back into place. She lets out a scream, which I silence by shoving her face against my chest. It’s only when she whimpers, that I remember she’d hurt her nose there only hours ago when Griffin made her slam into the ground during her first escape. That’s fine, though. If her nose is broken, then I’ll fix that, too.

Moans soar toward us, low and far enough away that we have plenty of time to prepare for their welcome. I wonder if I should wake up Griffin and William to come play with us. They’ll probably ruin the fun, like Griffin did last night when he ruined her dance with the dead. If I knew where Griffin hid the car key, I’d even play music for her. Well, we have William, at least. If he’s up for a little performance, that is. Something he hasn’t done in a long time.

Realizing that I’m probably suffocating her, I pull her back and look at her face and sigh. Nope, no broken nose to fix. Shame.

“Well, love, looks like we have a choice. We can either add more wood to the fire, or we can fight the rotters together. I’ll even wake up William to play music if you want to dance while doing it.”

Panic blankets her face and I tilt my head to one side, wondering where the fearless woman went to. I don’t like that she’s been replaced with such a panic-stricken girl. I want my fearless back.

“Aha.” I snap my fingers when the realization hits. She can’t fight off rotters with her bare hands. That’s what the problem is. If she could, then I’d marry her on the spot. We’d have a bloodbath of a wedding. An entire section filled with the heads of the dead who brought us together. Their entrails would be tossed like flower petals. We’d end the celebration with music and a massacre. It’d be glorious. Too bad she doesn’t look like there’s even a chance of her being into that. No worries, I can be quite convincing.

She whimpers and tries to pull away, but I hold on tighter. The rotters get closer. I can hear them behind me, dragging their rotting corpses across the grass toward us. The fires have died low enough that they won’t keep them all at bay any longer. What a beautiful night this is going to be.

When I don’t let her go, she screams. It’s such a beautiful scream, too, one that I could listen to all night long. Until she screams out for Griffin and William. That shatters the fantasy, but I guess it wouldn’t be fair if they didn’t get to play, too.

With a chuckle, I place a knife in her hand. “This here is one of my favorite knives. I even sharpened her after you went to bed, so she should treat you well.”

Her fingers wrap around the knife as though it was made for her. She looks up at me with amber eyes full of confusion and awe. “What makes you think I won’t stab you with it?”

My grin widens. This woman, she really knows how to sweet talk a fella. “Well, fearless. I didn’t realize you were into that kinda foreplay. But first, show me what you’ve got, and then we can circle back around to that.” With a chuckle, I wink and then spin her around, pushing her toward the growing horde of rotters.

A tent unzips behind me and there’s a scramble near our main fire pit at the same time she yelps. Perfect, now we can all watch her in action together. Man, I really wish I had some popcorn. I make a mental note to pick some up the next time I get a chance.

Emily wastes no time jumping into the fight. Not that she has much of a choice when a half-rotted dead man grabs her shoulder. For a split second there I wonder if everyone is right and I really am too crazy to think clearly, but then she moves into action, slashing and stabbing, pushing that worry of mine back.

She works wonderfully with the knife. Blood, flesh, and guts soar through the air. I let out a howl into the dead of the night—pun intended. Griffin curses at me when he flies by, jumping in to fight alongside Emily against the growing horde, while William throws more wood onto the dying fires. After stoking three of the firepits back to life, he creates a makeshift torch and jumps in front of Emily, holding the flaming torch out to keep the rotters away from her while she destroys a more manageable number of them—like one at a time, much less enjoyable.

Deciding they can’t have all the fun at this party that I created, I unlatch my new morning star from my back and start swinging. Debbie wants to get drunk on carnage, so I give her all I can. I cackle like a madman. Well…like myself, really.

With all four of us fighting together, it doesn’t take long for us to eliminate all the rotters. It’s a bummer, though, because we never got that music playing. Griffin did curse to a nice rhythm, but it’s not the same.

Emily is pulling her knife from the skull of the last rotter when I step up behind her and spin her around. Wrapping my hand around her wrist, which is so small in comparison, I stop her motion, the tip of the knife less than an inch from the bridge of my nose. With the usual grin on my face, I bring my face in close to hers, causing the tip of the knife to press against my chest, almost close enough to put a hole in my shirt. “My little fighter.”

She pushes against me with her free hand, but I don’t budge. “I’m not your anything.”

“No, but you will be. Not everyone can fight with my favorite knife the way you can, and I intend to see more of it.”

Griffin’s hand lands on my shoulder, and I glance back at him. The empty handcuff still hangs from his wrist. He looks angry. I love it when he’s angry. That means there might be more death and fun to be had. “Did you uncuff her?”

I smirk. “Sleeping beauty here dislocated her thumb and escaped while you slept soundly. Since you clearly can’t hold on to her even while handcuffed, I’m going to have to do it myself until you learn how to keep a better eye on your toys.”

Shrugging his hand off my shoulder, I drag Emily over to the fire that’s still burning brightly in front of the tents thanks to good ‘ole Willie. I sit down on the ground with my back against the log where she ate her dinner—and Willie’s, what an appetite—and pull her down in front of me, settling her in between my legs.

“I’m not a toy, you dipshit.”

Laying Debbie on the ground beside us, I chuckle lightly into Emily’s ear, enjoying seeing her shiver beneath my breath. “If that’s true, then why do I have so much fun playing with you?”

She raises the knife, but I wrap my arms around her like a steel band so she can’t move. “Let me go.”

“No can do, pet. I’ll let you hold on to that knife, but you should get some sleep because we’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“I’m not tired.”

“‘Course you are. After all you’ve been through, you’ll be out in no time. And I’ll still be here until you wake up in my arms, keeping you warm and the monsters at bay. And by monsters, I’m also referring to my friends.”

William sits on the ground on the other side of the fire across from us with his back against the log. He settles in, arms crossed, watching us. “And I’ll be right here in case you try something stupid like that again.”

“She won’t escape this time,” I assure him.

“Wasn’t talking about her.” His gaze bores into mine and I clench my jaw, knowing damn well what he’s talking about. We’ve all made mistakes here. I’m tempted to remind him of his, but Emily lays her head back against my shoulder in defeat.

She’s so soft when her body relaxes against mine. I stare down at her, surprised. I expected another fight from her. In fact, I hoped to get one. To see how far she can push herself, and then I’d push her past that. But this simple display of giving in, of feeling her body relax in my arms, is a feeling I can’t comprehend. No one’s ever relaxed near me this quickly before. Everyone else I’ve tried to befriend has run away screaming. I’ve never understood why.

Griffin holds out the handcuffs, but when I scowl at him and shake my head, he tosses them down on top of a nearby bag, nods to William, and then disappears inside of his tent. I wish William would sleep inside of his own tent for once, too, but I guess that’s not going to happen.

I tilt my head down to whisper in Emily’s ear. “Sleep, pet. You’ve got the craziest motherfuckers alive watching over you. I won’t let the dead in until you wake.”

“That’s supposed to relax me?” Her eyes are open, watching William through the flames. I don’t like it. I want her attention on me.

“Of course it is. Breakfast can be a serving of rotter with a side of waffles.”

“I like waffles.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll have Willie Boy over there figure out how to get the ingredients to make them for you one day.”

“I won’t be here long enough for that.” Her eyes flutter closed and I rest my chin on top of her head. She must be exhausted. I wonder if she would be this trusting in my arms if she was wide awake.

“You underestimate Griffin’s willingness to keep others safe. He thinks you’re worth protecting, and that’ll keep you here longer than stealing a car and destroying food ever will. But I hope you never stop trying to escape, because I do quite enjoy the chase.”

I can’t make out her mumbled reply before her body goes lax in my arms and her breathing evens out, but I’d like to think she promised to never give up the chase. Maybe it’s only me, but I find it so thrilling. I can’t wait to see what she comes up with next.

My back aches from sitting in the same position for so long, but I don’t dare move in case I wake her. She’s going to need her strength for the day ahead, because Griffin won’t be the only one not letting her out of his sight. Unlike him, I don’t need handcuffs to keep her in my grasp.

With the moon shining down on us in between the breaks in the clouds, I can see more of Emily. I’m shamelessly watching her while she sleeps. I have now memorized her outline in the dark, and every single curve of her body down to the length of the smallest eyelash, and the shadow it makes on her cheek when the moon shines down. It provides a different light than the fire in front of us, and I’m pretty sure that by the time the sun rises, I’ll know her better than she knows herself.

Her fingers dangle loosely around the knife handle, and I suspect I might not get it back. I could easily take it from her if I wanted to, but I find it thrilling that it’s now in her possession. It starts to slip from her fingers and I touch the tip to push it back until it’s snug in her grip. A single bead of blood drips from the tip of my finger and I wipe it gently against her arm so that my blood is now smeared into her skin. Yup, I did a magnificent job sharpening that yesterday.

She groans in her sleep and her head rubs against my shoulder. Is my pet having a bad dream? I hope I’m the star of the show.

I reposition my arms so they’re securely around her again. Her body shifts and I let out a groan of my own when I go rock hard. Oh, this isn’t good. This isn’t convenient at all.

She shifts again, and it worsens. My lips brush against her hair. “Careful, pet. Keep moving like that and we’re going to have another problem here.”

Her head tilts up so my lips brush against her forehead. Willie did a decent job bandaging her up before we were overrun with rotters. That’s something I’ll never admit it to him, of course. I press a gentle kiss, knowing there’s a wound beneath and wondering if it’s the kind of head injury where I shouldn’t be letting her sleep. I’m tempted to rustle her awake just in case, but I’m struggling to even move, which is so unlike me.

She scrunches up her face and shifts her body in my lap once again. If she keeps this up, she’s going to have a more dangerous monster on her hands than all the dead in the world, and that’s not a path she’s going to want to travel down. That’s not a path anyone would ever want to travel down. She’s probably not aware, since I tend to come off as a big ‘ole puppy dog and all, but I’m actually a little messed up. I blame my brother for that, but that’s not a story she’s going to want to hear. Although if she’s lucky, she’ll take me out long before she can get close enough to me to hear that story.

Tilting my head down so my mouth is close to her ear, I whisper again. “Don’t worry, pet, fight those monsters in your dreams. I’ll be right there beside you.”

She lets out one more whimper and then settles down into my arms again. Good, she’s finally going to stay in place. I don’t know what would’ve happened if she’d kept wiggling around like that.

I hold her still while I reposition myself, clenching my teeth together when pain shoots through my lower back at having been in this position for so long, but I don’t want to move any more than I have to. There are still a few more hours until sunrise. A few more hours to watch her sleep, chase away her nightmares, and study every single visible inch of her. Because when she wakes up, I’m going to light another fire within her and watch it burn.

6

EMILY

The smell is awful. It’s the most foul thing I’ve ever smelled in my life, and I’ve survived nearly a year of the dead walking the earth. I miss my little colony and the safety it provides, but most importantly, I miss never having to smell so many rotting corpses in such close proximity.

It’s too much, and I end up vomiting. Unfortunately, it’s right on top of the rotter that I’m dragging over to add to the growing pile. That’s extra disgusting. Well, at least I won’t have to do any extra cleanup for it. Bright side and all that.

After waking up and forcing Max to let go of me with the promise that I’ll at least wait until after breakfast before trying to stab him with the knife he gave me—much to his disappointment, having to wait—the smell was so overpowering that I nearly threw up in his lap. It made it impossible to even think about breakfast, so we all went straight to work on tearing down the campsite and now we’re piling all the dead rotters together to burn them before driving away. I don’t know why we can’t leave them here like this, but William prefers to burn them. He says it’s a way to cleanse the earth by having a few less of them rotting around. So here I am, dragging dead bodies across the ground while simultaneously throwing up on them. But with the lack of food, it’s mostly water. I regret making that promise with Max. Stabbing him would have been so much more fun. It’s probably not too late, though. He’s the reason I’m still here. Therefore, I dislike almost as much as Griffin right now.

The man occupying my current thoughts grins at me from the other side of the pile that I finally reach. His grin is so wide, it almost reaches his vibrant green eyes. His dark hair is still wild and untamed, much like the man himself. I imagine pulling the knife from the belt holster William loaned me and throwing it through the air right at his stupid face, but my aim isn’t good enough for that yet. Although I bet he wouldn’t mind being a target practice for me. I think nothing is off the table for that man. I want to make him mad, but now I’m thinking that’s not possible.

Max tosses another body onto the pile and waggles his eyebrows at me. “Nothing I like more than a good party. Let’s do it again tonight.”

“Draw rotters in like that again and you’ll be joining them,” Griffin threatens when he heaves a torso on top of the pile right before William throws the legs on top. I turn my head and dry heave.

William is by my side in an instant, holding my hair back for me. Once I’m done, he pulls the hair tie off of my wrist and gently pulls my hair back. It’s still tangled, but he does his best to smooth my hair back before wrapping my hair up in a ponytail.

“She’s got nothing left to throw up. Speaking of which, Willie, I promised her you’d make her waffles sometime,” Max helpfully states.

“It’s William. Does she even like waffles?”

“Who wouldn’t like waffles?”

“How are you talking about food at a time like this?” I dry heave again.

“Gotta keep our appetite up. Doesn’t burning, rotting flesh make you hungry?” Max asks. “Or maybe it’s the killing. Well, they were already dead, so killing the dead. Regardless, we can’t forget about the waffles.”

William rolls his eyes and touches my arm. “Come on, let’s get you away from here. We’re almost done. Max can finish up. I’m sure this mess is mostly his fault, anyway.”

“I take pride in that,” Max calls after us while William leads me to the car.

“Don’t even think about trying anything. I still have the key,” Griffin adds before walking away to join Max in collecting the last few rotters.

I rest my forearms on the trunk of the car and drop my head down, struggling to breathe. The odor is far too great. We’ll have to drive for a while before it goes away. It’s in my clothes, in my hair, in every particle of the surrounding air. Two hundred and sixty-six days in this rotter apocalypse and I still haven’t gotten used to the stench.

A rough hand rubs gentle circles against my back while I fight to keep the nausea at bay. It’s a nice feeling, and I think it might even be working. It’s weird to have someone else try to take care of me. I’m always the one who winds up taking care of everyone else. That’s how I landed myself on this mission in the first place; I’m responsible for so many lives. It gets exhausting sometimes. The weight of the world presses down on my shoulders. At least when I’m outside the colony, it seems to lift a little.

Air struggles to go in and out of my lungs.

Zoey is counting on me, and if I fail, then there might be no one able to take my place. Sure, there are plenty of people to go out and scavenge, but none as dedicated as I am. They would probably try the same areas we’ve scavenged and go back into the colony with their palms facing up and say they tried.

“Emily, breathe. I know it’s hard right now, but you need to breathe.” William’s voice is low, strong, and calm. I do as he says and force air into my lungs, no matter how rancid the air is. He doesn’t stop rubbing circles into my back, even when footsteps approach. He speaks to someone over his shoulder. “Start the fire and let’s get out of here.”

“Move, I need to open the trunk.”

“I’m not going back in there,” I bit out to Griffin. The nerve of him. I would even choose to ride on top of the car rather than in the trunk. I ought to stab him with Max’s knife for even suggesting it.

“Actually, I was going to put the rest of the gear in there, but putting you in there instead isn’t a bad idea,” Griffin says thoughtfully.

“Fuck you.”

“Wait, is that a threat or a promise?” Max adds, reaching for the box of matches that Griffin holds out. When I don’t respond, he shrugs his shoulders and runs over to start the fire.

Shaking my head, I push myself away from the trunk and walk around the car before lowering myself into the passenger’s seat. I’m riding in first class today. Maybe I should put Griffin in the trunk, see how he likes it.

Max has the fire roaring in a matter of moments and comes running back to the car to join us, but I do my best to ignore him. All of them.

I pull out hand sanitizer from my pocket when the doors open and shut as everyone joins me inside the car. After squirting some into my palm, I’m sliding it back into my pocket when Griffin snatches it from me. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

Griffin raises an eyebrow. “Wiping off the dead blood and guts from my hands, like you.” He squirts some into his hand before passing it to the guys in the back. My mouth hangs open, then he reaches out, places a single finger beneath my chin, and closes my mouth without a word.

“Whoever taught you manners did a horrible job. Ever heard of asking?”

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Max utters with excitement before grabbing the little bottle from William, who I’m assuming slaps him because of the sound of skin hitting skin that happens right after.

Griffin glares at me, and I stare him down. Neither of us moves until the little bottle appears in the air between us. Griffin takes it and hands it to me before turning to face forward and starting the engine.

A mistake was made last night. I shouldn’t have dislocated my thumb in order to escape. I should have dislocated his thumb instead, and then his dick.

Oh well. Next time.

“It’s empty.” I shake the little bottle. There wasn’t a lot in there to begin with, and it was my last bottle. I would have shared it with them if he’d asked, but it’s the way he took it without asking that annoys me. Although everything that Griffin does annoys me. The way he breathes annoys me.

The sound of sharpening metal reaches my ears, and when I look back, sure enough, Max is sharpening a dagger. I don’t know where he keeps them all. Every time I turn around, he’s playing with something new, sharp, and pointy.

“Do you have to do that in the car?” William asks.

“Gotta have these babies ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

“Just don’t cut me.”

“What better way would there be to test the sharpness?” Max winks at me. I shake my head and turn around while they continue to bicker. It gives me an idea, though. If I can get one or two of them on my side, it could help my chances of escape. Maybe even tear them apart long enough for me to slip out unnoticed. Not while we’re driving, of course. Jumping out of a moving car might get me noticed. And hurt.

“Where are we going?” I ask, trying to be nice. Make conversation. Be a team player. I’m so going to rock this.

“Why do you want to know so badly?”

“Really? You kidnap me, put me in the trunk of your car, won’t let me leave, and then get suspicious when I ask where we’re going?” My voice rises with each sentence and I have to remind myself that I’m trying to be nice. Get him to trust me. This is going to be harder than I thought.

Griffin clears his throat. “Fair enough.”

That’s all he says. Clearly, he has no intention of ever telling me where we are, so I turn my attention to the world outside the window and keep my eye out for any signs that could give me a clue.

Eventually, I pull out my compass that I keep tucked inside of my shirt where it hangs around my neck. We’re moving south. That means when I get away from them, I’ll need to head north. Then I can figure the rest out from there. As long as we also headed south yesterday. I feel better having some sort of plan.

Griffin breaks the silence after a while. “You’re wrong.”

Then nothing. Only that one statement.

I scoff. “Care to elaborate?”

“My mother taught me manners, and she did a fine good job.”

“Yeah? Where is she now? Because I have some feedback for her.”

He tightens his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles whiten. “Six feet beneath the earth in the backyard of the family’s Virginia home, along with my father, brother, and sister. Took me seventeen hours and two shovels.”

Oh. Shit. I should offer him comfort. Tell him how much I can relate because it happened to me. Instead, my brain is stuck on one detail. “What happened to the first shovel?”

“Didn’t kill my dad enough before I started digging. He came at me right as I finished the hole and pulled myself up, so I threw the shovel. Severed his spinal cord and he fell down into the hole along with the shovel. I wasn’t about to crawl back down to retrieve it, so I stole the neighbor’s shovel to fill in the hole. It’s not like they were using it anymore. They were on vacation when the virus spread.”

“Guess they went on a permanent vacation,” I mutter, and Max laughs from the backseat. At least someone thinks I’m funny. Back at my colony, people would have criticized me for making a joke at a time like this. But not here.

I reach over and rest my hand on his leg, giving his thigh a gentle squeeze. His death grip on the steering wheel loosens. “I’m sorry, Griffin. I lost my family in the outbreak too, only I didn’t have to be the one to put them down. Law enforcement took care of that, back in the early hours when they still existed, before the world gave up.”

“How did they do it?”

I watch him, but he continues watching the road ahead, lost in his own mind. “I came home from college a week early to surprise them, my dad and little brother. Walked through the door to find them standing in the livingroom. Fitting name for that room, considering they were dead.”

He lowers one hand down to cover mine and gives it a squeeze.

“At that point, I knew a virus was spreading, but I knew nothing about the later stages of it. Didn’t understand what was going on until the sirens sounded and they went crazy and attacked me. I probably would’ve joined them if the neighbor hadn’t been a cop who had just had to deal with his own family.” I look out the window. Trees fly by as we soar down the highway. I’m not sure why I’m telling all of this to him. He’s an asshole who doesn’t deserve my story. I want to get him to trust me, not spill my guts out to him. I need a new plan, pronto.

“We lasted a couple days together, after the dead rose. I went out to get supplies and came back to a house full of rotters. My sister…she didn’t know. She did something on accident that drew them.”

“I’m sorry you went through that, Griffin.”

He looks at me, and for the first time, I feel like he’s really looking at me. It only lasts a moment before he watches the road again. “I’m sorry you went through that, too, Emily.”

Max’s face appears between our seats. “Are you two good now? Kissed and made up and all that?”

On reflex, I punch him. Then I remember I need him on my side so I can escape, and I immediately regret it. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

William laughs and nudges Max’s leg with his own. “That’s what you get.”

Max howls with pain…no, wait, that’s laughter. I can’t believe he’s laughing. He lowers his hands from his face and leans forward with his elbows resting above his knees with a grin on his face and a drop of red above his upper lip. “Nice hit. Maybe you don’t need that knife after all.”

“It’s mine now, I’m keeping it,” I say, hovering my hand over the knife attached to my belt. They never gave me back my own weapons, so I’ll keep any of theirs I can get my hands on.

He chuckles and wipes the blood away with the back of his hand. “For real though, you’ve got quite the aim.”

“And you’ve got a voice. Your howl was loud enough to wake the dead, and now they’re coming for us.” William points out the window.

“Not for long.” Griffin presses harder on the gas and we sail down the highway, dodging most of the rotters and running over a few. We pass by a large green sign, but I don’t notice it until it’s already passing by and too blurry to make out. “Still trying to figure out where we’re going, princess?”

“Why won’t you tell me?” I bite back, thumping back against my seat and crossing my arms.

“It’s more fun this way.”

“We need to work on your definition of fun.”

Everyone is silent over the next short stretch of time. I’m dozing off in my seat when Griffin’s voice turns concerning.

“What’s this?” Griffin reduces his speed and leans forward. Curious, I lean forward too.

“Dregs.” William spits out the word like a curse.

“Are you kidding me? For two hundred and sixty-six days, I managed to avoid the plague on the apocalypse, but after one day with you, you drive me straight to them.” I turn to face him with my back against the door. “Don’t tell me you’re one of them.”

“We’re not with them, princess.”

“Stop calling me princess.”

“Don’t worry, pet.”

“Stop calling me pet,” I snap at Max next.

“We’ve got your back, Emily. I promise.”

I meet William’s gaze. “Thank you.”

“What, no snappy comeback for him?” Griffin asks, his body stiff. He’s looking all around. Following his gaze, I can see why. There are dregs stationed all over. Most of them are in camouflage to blend in, some hanging out at the tops of telephone poles, and a few of them standing on the ground and on top of cars that are blocking the highway. The line of cars stretches out far enough that trying to go around would be fruitless, especially since they’ve already spotted us.

“He’s the only one capable of remembering my name.”

“I remember your name,” Griffin whispers.

“Right now, all I want you to remember is how to turn this car around.”

“Too late. Once we’re spotted, there’s no point in turning around. They’ll chase us down. These scum of the earth rose when the world fell and took advantage of everyone’s vulnerability. They’ll chase down and kill everyone who runs from them, and if you’re lucky, the only thing they’ll take is all your supplies. If you’re not lucky, they take your life, too.”

“I know what dregs are, dumbass.”

“Just making sure. You said you haven’t run into them yet.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know what they are.”

As he pulls the car closer to our impending doom, Griffin gives me the most serious look I’ve ever seen. Even more serious than when he slapped handcuffs on me. “Whatever happens, don’t get out of this car.”

Right, like that’s going to fucking happen.

7

GRIFFIN

Dregs. The scum of the earth. When the dead rose, so did they. People who are thrilled there are no consequences for hurting others and taking what they want. Some of them work solo while others band together in groups, and this group looks like a pretty big one. Laying traps in the road for the sorry souls who can’t defend themselves against a group their size. We’re screwed.

My palms sweat as my mind races for a way out of this mess. Ideally, we’ll all get out unscathed, and if we’re lucky, they won’t take anything more than our food. We can always find more food. It’s gotten harder to do as time went on and survivors scavenged everywhere they could, but we’ll make it work. As long as we can get out of this alive.

“William, pull down the middle of the seat so Emily can crawl through into the trunk.”

“Fuck that. I’m never getting in the trunk again. You get in the trunk.”

I knew she wouldn’t go for it. I should have stuffed her in there when we left the campsite. Tied her up and not let her out until we arrived at wherever it is we’re going. She kept asking about where we’re headed, but truth be told, I don’t know. There was no way we could stay in that clearing anymore, not with the smell. I should’ve tied her up and thrown her in the trunk last night the moment I realized she was no longer in the tent. Hindsight is a real bitch.

We get closer to the line of cars, and most of the dregs have their hands on their guns, ready to point and shoot. We are far too outnumbered here. The last time we ran into some dregs…well, it didn’t go well. And this time there’s more at stake.

“I mean it, Emily. Keep your head down and stay in the fucking car. All of you.” I put the car into park and get out, then lock the door before slamming it shut. I raise my hands in the air and step forward.

Car doors open and shut behind me and I clench my jaw, knowing that someone got out. I don’t know if it’s William or Max; I don’t dare take my eyes off of the dregs to look back and see. But I’m going to fucking kill them both if they get us killed. My ghost will revive them just so I can kill them myself.

“We don’t want any harm. Please, let us pass.”

“What’s it going to cost ya?” The man directly in front of me speaks, and I assume he’s the leader. He’s got the best posture of them all and the most lax stance. He’s the only one without his hand on a gun, trusting his couple dozen men to have his back. Not to mention he’s wearing a fucking suit. He doesn’t do the dirty work around here.

“We have food. We’ll give you as much as you want.”

The man chews on something. Maybe it’s gum, I don’t know, but he chews and then purses his lips as he thinks over my offer. I try to think of what else we might have to offer. We can give them tents, though our three tents won’t be nearly enough to house a group this size, and we’ll be left even more vulnerable in the night. So that’s pretty useless to them. We have plenty of weapons, but Max will give his life before giving up any of those. “We’ll take your food.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. This isn’t as bad as I feared. These are reasonable men, after all.

“And the girl.”

My back stiffens. I knew I should have forced her into the trunk. He probably saw her through the windshield. Why didn’t I at least put the damn visor down? “You can have the food and our tents.”

“And the girl.”

“Our food, tents, and the car.”

“And the girl.”

“That’s not an option.”

The man lifts his chin to someone behind me, and I freeze. No, absolutely not. She didn’t. She wouldn’t.

I turn my head slowly to look over my shoulder and see her standing there, with her amber eyes wide. Strands of her long dark hair have fallen loose from her ponytail and are fluttering in the slight breeze. She looks as scared as she did last night when I saw Max push her toward the horde of rotters. I wanted to kill Max when he did that, but right now, I’m going to need to kill a couple dozen dregs, plus my friends for letting her out of the car.

A part of me wonders why. She’s caused us nothing but trouble since the moment I laid my eyes on her. Still, I couldn’t live with myself if I agreed to it. I’m not that kind of man, and I made a personal vow to never become a dreg of humanity.

I immediately take stock of our situation. I’ve already identified all the exposed dregs, the weapons they carry, and the rounds of ammo attached to their bodies. It’s safe to guess there are more hidden in that line of cars. Regardless, we’re substantially outnumbered and utterly fucked. I look at Max and whisper, “You got the ball?”

His brows furrow. “Dude, this isn’t the time for soccer.”

Anger flows through me at the idiocy. I know he has that grenade. My eyes roam down his body to see if I can spot it, but he’s a one-man army and packs his weapons well so they’re not visible. He could have a rocket launcher on his body and no one could tell.

I turn back to the dreg man in the suit, knowing it’s useless but needing to buy myself some time to think. I make my voice light even though my blood is boiling. “Thanks anyway, but we’ll just head back the other way.”

The man shakes his head. “Afraid I can’t allow that. We’re taking the girl.”

The fight breaks out before I think of a plan. We’re already diving behind two cars, me and Emily behind our car, and Max and William behind another, when the bullets fly. Regardless of the bullets, our bigger problem is that we’re surrounded. Not a problem for Max, who’s already taken out the dregs high above in the telephone poles. I missed how he did it because he doesn’t have a fucking gun.

We sit here and let them waste their ammo. I hold a small blade between my thumb and forefinger and wait for the opening. The moment the firing stops, I use the reflection in a nearby car as my guide and fling my arm out, sending the throwing star sailing through the air and slicing the throat of three of the dregs along the way. Max lets out a whistle of appreciation and says something about the arcs of the blood spray, but I barely pay him much attention.

“Alright boys, you ready for a fight?” When three voices respond, my attention snaps behind me to Emily and I give her a dead serious look. “Get underneath the car if you won’t get inside of it.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll stuff you inside the trunk myself, and if I get shot doing it, then there might be no one to let you out.”

“Why are you so adamant about me staying out of danger? You don’t even know me. I can fight. I can help, I’m more useful than you think. And who knows, I might be the one saving your ass. You need me, Griffin.”

“I won’t let anyone die when I can stop it.”

She tightens her grip around the knife that Max gave her last night, and I feel a pang of guilt at having stripped her of her weapons. “Huh. I’ve never had my own personal bodyguard. I don’t know what kind of martyr shit you’re trying to do, but right now you’re the one who’s the damsel in distress.” She throws the knife, and it goes sailing by my head.

I wrap my hand around her throat and press her head against the bottom of the trunk of the car before leaning in closer. I can feel her breath on my lips before I speak. “You’re going to need better aim if you’re trying to kill me.”

She smiles and her voice comes out as a rasp, even though I’m not cutting off her airway. “Look behind you, dumbass.”

I look behind me and see a dreg on the ground. The knife sticking out of his throat is responsible for the growing pool of blood around his head.

“We can both throw. Guess we have something in common after all. What a shame. Now if you’ll let me go, I’d like to retrieve that, seeing as it’s the only weapon you guys will let me have.”

I don’t let her go. Not yet, anyway. I look at her again and hesitate for only a moment before I pull a dagger from one holster on my waistband and hand it to her, along with the second knife I took off of her the night I first saw her. I’ve been so focused on protecting her, I let my guard down. That’s something that never happens. I owe her more than this right now. “Don’t use it to stab me in the back.”

She grabs them both. “Don’t hand me over to the dregs.”

“Deal.”

Music blasts from the car that Max and William are—were—hiding behind, and Max howls into the air with glee. “Dance for us, pet.”

“He’s got issues,” she breathes out.

“You have no idea.”

Moans soar through the air as rotters in the area make their way toward us. They drag their bodies across the ground and limp from the tree lines. A dreg shouts out in anger. “What is your fucking problem? You’ve drawn every rotter in the area.”

Emily and I stand up and join in the fight. We slash and stab at our attackers, and take the guns from the fallen and use them to take out their friends. It’s a bloodbath.

Max spins around, swinging his morning star with one hand and a knife in the other. He’s got blood on his teeth due to the fact he can’t stop grinning during his killing spree. Headlights illuminate him from behind and music blasts through the air. He’s having the time of his life.

A few rotters join the party, forcing the dregs to fight them off instead of us. At least it makes things easier on our account. “Get in the car,” I holler at Emily, Max, and William, but Emily ignores me. Her focus is on the car ahead. “What are you doing?”

“Is that a dog in there? You don’t even have the windows cracked, its gotta be a million degrees in there.” She approaches the car, but the dreg leader jumps in front of her and slashes his knife through the air, which she narrowly avoids by jumping back.

Max is the first to reach her. He breaks a window on the car and the dog jumps out, still barking.

The dreg in the suit looks like an apple with how red his face is turning from anger. “Either kill them or shut up, you mutt.” When the dog does nothing but bark, he kicks the dog.

“That’s it.” Emily charges forward and shoves her dagger into the dreg’s gut, blood spilling out onto his light gray suit. He shoves the dagger in deeper, twisting and turning it until he falls to the ground, dead. Then she drops to her knees and faces the dog with a smile on her face. “Come here, boy. I won’t hurt you.” She holds out her hand, her full focus on a stranger’s dog while war wages behind her back.

“We’re not safe yet, Emily, get in the damn car,” I call out to her, grunting when I kill another dreg who’s trying to get to her. I drop him to the ground and run the rest of the short distance to her, grabbing onto her arm right when she scoops up the massive dog in her arms. I drag them both back to the car, shielding her as best as I can while Max and William cover us.

William helps her into the passenger seat, which she somehow fits in there with this enormous dog still in her lap, and I jump into the driver’s seat. Slamming the car into drive, we peel out, running over the dead and injured dregs on the way. I drive the length of the parked cars until I’m able to get around them, and then Max throws something out the window. He cackles when the grenade explodes.

“You couldn’t have done that sooner?” I ask.

“We were in too close quarters. Didn’t want to hurt pet, here.”

“I’m not your pet,” Emily shoots back.

“Appears you’ve got one of your own now,” William adds. “That looks like a Belgian Malinois. They’re known for their intelligence, loyalty, and ability to handle stressful situations.”

“Hopefully, he won’t have to handle a situation more stressful than the one I just saved him from. Is that right, Buddy?”

“You’ve named it already?” I swerve to avoid a rotter that’s dragging its decaying body toward the music that’s still blasting from the car far behind us.

“It is a he, and his collar says Buddy, so yes, he already has a name.” Buddy licks her face, and she laughs and throws her arms around him in a hug. She’s so tiny, she practically disappears beneath that dog in her lap like that.

“This is ridiculous. We’re picking up strays now.” Emily glares at me, but I don’t retract my words. I don’t regret her saving the dog, and truth be told, if she hadn’t been there, I would have saved the dog myself. I’m just…I don’t know. Everything she does puts us all—including her—in even more danger. I’m supposed to rein it in. I should make her stop doing it. But truth be told, fighting for survival has never been this exciting before.

Thumping sounds out from behind us and I look in the rearview mirror, but there’s nothing back there. No one is following us. The thumping sounds again and I grind my teeth together. “Is there someone in the trunk?”

Max’s smile brightens my rearview mirror. “Willie boy here⁠—”

“It’s William⁠—”

“—found out that one of the dregs was a doctor. White coat and everything. Figured he might know something about the medical supplies our Emily here is looking for. So I helped him into the trunk to hitch a ride with us because I’m considerate like that.”

Emily’s eyes widen with excitement. Mine narrow with frustration. Max’s beam with pride. “Waddaya say, captain? Can we keep him?”

I blow out a sigh of defeat. This is getting ridiculous.

William lets out a strained laugh. “Come on. What’s one more hostage?”

8

EMILY

Islam the knife into the ground. “Well, I was aiming for the dirt, but your foot got in the way.”

The doctor probably can’t hear me through his screaming. What a baby. Sure, I stabbed my knife straight through the middle of his foot and now it’s leaking blood, but this seems a little excessive.

William appears from behind him and presses the palm of his hand against the doctor’s mouth. “Careful. You’re going to draw rotters with all this racket.”

“Tell him that. He’s the one making all the noise, not me.”

“I’m sure he’s also the one who stabbed his own foot.”

I shrug. “Could’ve been.”

He shakes his head and removes his hand when the doctor’s screams turn into whimpers. “There’s a stream nearby if you want to take a break to grab a drink and get cleaned up.”

“I’ll do that after I break this man.”

“Breaking men is your specialty, little girl?” The doctor spits out blood and a tooth. Ew, how unsanitary? I mean, I know his foot is bleeding, and that’s my fault, but come on, have some class.

“Only the ones who do me wrong.”

“What did I ever do to you?”

“You’re withholding information that could save a friend of mine. That’s why you’re here. Have you not been listening to anything I’ve been saying?” I hold my arms out to either side in exasperation, the knife dangling between my fingertips. Blood drips down the blade since I yanked it out of him. The nerve of this man.

“Even if I tell you the location, there’s no way you’ll even make it to the front door. There are a lot of us and they’ll kill you on sight. Hate to break it to you, but your friend’s a goner.”

I stab the knife straight through his thigh and to the other side, scraping the blade against the dirt he sits on. William slaps his hand over his mouth again to quell his screams. Pressing the knife down until the hilt is bruising his thigh, I dig my fingernails into the bruised flesh of his other thigh, and lean in. “That’s the thing about you and me, doc. You see, I’ll do whatever it takes to save one of my people. But you? You were taken from the middle of your people and not one of them cared enough to stop us, or even follow. They let you go because they only cared about themselves. I’ll make it back to my friend, but nobody is coming for you, dead man.” I twist the knife and he arches his back so his body is practically hovering. He can’t go too far with his hands tied behind his back, but I swear he’s practically levitating.

William watches me the whole time, and when the man’s screams get too loud to shut off by covering his mouth, he places his other hand over the man’s throat, basically strangling him in order to silence him.

Max walks over, and I worry he’s going to ruin my fun. Either that, or turn it up a notch. There’s never telling with him. “Get anything out of him yet?”

“Nope.” I apply more of my weight onto the knife and I think he blacks out for a moment. He needs to stay awake. “William, stop strangling him.”

“I did. This is all you, Emily.”

“Oh, come on.” I pull the knife from his leg, but I slip in the spilled blood at my feet. When I regain my balance, I realize that I’ve sliced open half of his thigh. “Whoops.”

The doctor is unconscious, so William wraps an old cloth around his leg to quell the bleeding.

“Jesus fuck, you’re going to kill the guy before you even get anything of value out of him.” Max kneels down in front of the man and inspects him. “I’m impressed. I’m also disappointed I missed the show. Was she amazing, Willie?”

“William,” William says in a bored tone.

“Not on purpose,” I protest. “He’s just…he’s too easy to kill. It’s not fair.”

Max chuckles and runs his tongue along his top row of teeth. “I love your determination, but if you’re going to kill a man, you need to do it with intent. You’re the worst with torture I’ve ever seen. Take a break and let me take over. I’ll even give you lessons on the next one.”

“But I’m getting so close.”

“No, she’s not,” William says, betraying me. I’ll make him pay for that. I don’t know how. Maybe I’ll feed his food to Buddy.

“Traitor.”

“Awful torturer,” William says with a smirk.

Max inspects the hostage, lifting his eyelids and feeling his pulse before sitting back on his heels in front of him. “Have you ever tortured anyone before?”

I shrug. “Can’t say that I have.”

“That’s extra impressive, then. Most people in your position would’ve run away at the first accidental blood spilled. I’m going to have to bring in more hostages for you to practice on. It’s an art that I believe you could master.”

“Unless it’s for a good reason, I’ll have to say no thank you.” I scrunch up my nose at the thought of hurting someone for practice like that. However, if they deserved it, then it would be a different story.

Max shrugs. “Suit yourself. But for this time, let me take care of it for you.”

“Why?” I ask, curious why someone would go through so much trouble for me. I’ve only known him for a day, but this seems out of character for him. There must be something I’m missing.

He unhooks a dagger from his belt and the morning star from his back. “Because this might be business for you, but it’s playtime for me, and Debbie wants to taste fresh blood.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Debbie?”

He kisses the morning star, which is oddly clean and shiny after the brutal battle we just went through. “She’s a beaut. Now get out of here and let me play. I promise I won’t let you down, pet.”

“I’m not—you know what, fine. I’m not getting anywhere with him anyway, and I could use some puppy love. Where’s Buddy?”

“Sitting by the fire watching your every move,” Max says, turning to face the still-unconscious doctor with a growing smirk. “Although I think that dog’s blind in one eye.”

My anger and frustration diminish when I sit down with Buddy. His eyes are the first I inspect, and Max is right. Buddy’s right eye is missing the actual eye. It’s scarred over, but he doesn’t let it stop him from turning his head around and seeing everything he can. I hope that dreg didn’t do this to him. If so, then I want to go back there and stab his body a few more times until it’s mush.

Putting my anger at the assumption out of my mind, I rub my hands down his body and pause when my fingers run over a bandage on his front leg.

“I looked him over for wounds as best as I could. He has a sore on his leg and a bruise on his side that’s probably from being kicked, otherwise he’s healthy as can be.” William crouches to the ground beside us and gently pats Buddy’s side. “I also cleaned him up for her. It’s how we found out about his eyes.”

“You poor thing.” Rubbing Buddy’s ears, I kiss the top of his head and then his nose, then laugh when he licks my nose in response. I look down at the bowls of beans and water that are still untouched. “You’re not hungry? Did they feed you before we took you?”

“Doubt it. He’s likely too stressed to eat right now. A new environment, new people, and he has no idea what’s going on,” William says.

I grab a bean from the bowl and pop it in my mouth, making sounds of enjoyment while I chew and swallow it. “Delicious.”

Buddy lowers his head to sniff at the food and then takes a bite himself. And then another. Then he chows down faster than a horde of rotters demolishing a human.

“Maybe he just wanted some dinner company. It’s more fun eating with other people, isn’t it, Buddy?” When he’s done, I rub his ears and kiss his head while he licks every last taste from his mouth. His tail wags in agreement. “Five star dining for you.”

“We’ll need to make another food run soon,” William says. Then he shakes his head. “I’m not complaining about the dog eating. We’d need more food anyway, and we can always hunt, but with any luck, we’ll come across some real dog food.”

“Have you found any before?” I ask.

“Once. Max tried some and said it was delicious. We also hadn’t eaten in four days. Griffin and I ate the cans of stew we’d found instead.”

“That Max is a strange one,” I say.

“He’s been through a lot. We all have, but his experience broke him a little more than ours did.”

“He wasn’t always like this?”

William shakes his head. “We were best friends before this all happened. He was always outgoing, but not quite like this. When the virus swept the earth and the dead rose, it took a couple of weeks before we all found each other. By the time we had, we were pretty broken and only had one another to rely on. His story isn’t mine to tell, but we give him a break. Even if we act like we want to kill each other.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“He’s a good one to have around. If you’re lucky enough for him to consider you worth protecting, then you’re stuck with him for life. He’s one of the two most loyal men I’ve ever met.”

“Griffin is the second,” I guess.

“Yup. They’ll do anything to protect each other. Max just has more fun.”

Leaves crunch under footsteps and I look behind me to see Max walking toward us, twirling the dagger between his fingers in one hand and holding his bloodied morning star over his shoulder with the other. His face is splashed with streaks of blood, but it’s the grin that has me excited. The pride and confidence he exudes has me giving him my full attention.

“Good news, pet. I’ve got the location.”

Shooting to my feet, I gather my belongings. Then I realize I don’t have any belongings other than the dirty clothes on my back and the weapons attached to me—which aren’t even mine to begin with—so I run my hand over Buddy’s head and look around. “Griffin has the car keys. We can leave right now. Don’t need to worry about camp. We can be there and back in no time.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow your roll. We’re not going anywhere yet.” Max hooks the morning star to his back. There’s even blood on his clothes, which only stands out on his all-black attire due to how wet and slick it still is.

“The more stand around doing nothing, the more time that gets wasted.”

“You’re worried about wasting time? I can think of a few ways to make sure that doesn’t happen.” He waggles his eyebrows at me and I roll my eyes. This isn’t the time for fun and games.

Griffin returns to the campsite, freshly clean from the stream, with water dripping from the ends of his short, dark brown hair. His six-foot two-inch muscular build nearly blocks out the sun when he walks up, eyes zeroing in on Max with a sigh. “You killed him.”

Max grins with pride. “Got what I needed, so I had a little extra fun.”

“Thought you said you had to take over so I wouldn’t kill him.”

“Because you were going to kill him by accident before getting anything useful. This way, I got everything we’d need, and there was no reason to keep him around. He would’ve been a nuisance, eating our food and bleeding out everywhere. He even had the gall to pee on my shoe. Dregs have no manners, I swear.”

“Great. Now tell me where the hideout is and I’ll get going.”

Griffin raises an eyebrow. “You’re not going anywhere on your own.”

“Why? Because I’m still your hostage?”

“No, because we stick together so that no one ends up hurt. Or dead.”

“Why does my life matter to you? I’m your captive. I never wanted to be part of your little group.”

Griffin’s empty gray eyes somehow look even more empty. “I won’t be responsible for your death.”

“Great. I can be responsible for my own death then.”

“We’re not going in without a plan, Emily. Now sit back down while I figure something out.” Griffin doesn’t wait for a response before storming to his tent, and I, being the stubborn asshole that I love to be, can’t drop this. Maybe this is why I have so few friends.

“My friend’s life doesn’t work on your timeline.”

“And our lives don’t work on yours,” Griffin says without turning around. “We can’t just waltz into a dreg’s hideout and ask for their stuff over a cup of tea. They’ll kill us on the spot and they’ll take you, like they already tried to do. We’ll get there, but I won’t risk our lives, and that includes yours.”

“My life isn’t yours to risk. I will not sit around while my friend gets even sicker, when I’m able to do something about it. You might not care about another human life, but I do.”

He whirls around, his empty gray eyes now full of anger. I must’ve hit a tough spot. Good, then I’ll keep punching him there. “If that’s what you really think, then that’s fine. You can go out there on your own. Fight an entire hideout full of dregs on your own. You can wind up tortured and murdered or worse, if that’s what you really want. Might as well just feed yourself to rotters instead. It’ll be a more pleasant way to go.”

“Fighting a thousand rotters is easier than trying to reason anything with you. Fighting a thousand dregs is easier than getting through your thick skull and dull personality.”

His hand raises into the air and I ready my stance and lift my chin, preparing for a fight. He has brute strength, but I’m a biter if it comes down to it. But instead of swinging like I expect, his fingers curl into a fist and he snarls. He actually snarls. I didn’t know men could snarl in real life. Then he spins around and punches the tree that was rudely rooted in the ground too close to him.

I don’t speak. Not because I’m speechless; I can brighten up this argument with a colorful vocabulary. But because I’m too angry. Zoey is counting on me and I’m letting her down because of this overgrown baby with control issues.

Griffin turns around and disappears into the tent without another word, pulling the tent flap closed with so much force that it rips about an inch. Max does a long, slow whistle before walking away to what I’m assuming is cleaning up what’s left of the doctor.

William throws another log on the fire and then rummages through the measly supply of food that we have left. “Don’t take it too personally, Em. He gets like that sometimes.”

“That’s not normal. Are we even safe here with him?”

William’s head pops up from the bag, his blue eyes pale and warm. “I know things aren’t the easiest for you right now, and this isn’t the most ideal situation. But there aren’t many people out there who care about your safety and your mission as much as him.”

I scoff. “He’s a menace.”

“William!” Griffin calls from inside the tent.

I jump at the outburst, wondering if he heard me talking. My lips curl up into a smile. Good, I hope so.

“Be right back.” William gives me one last longing look before disappearing into the tent that Griffin tore through. I’m about to see if I can sweet talk Max into giving me some sort of information, but then he walks over looking more bloodied up than ever. He gives me a wink before disappearing into the tent next.

Even when they lower their voices, but I can still make out the growl that belongs to Griffin. I tiptoe to the tent as quiet as I can be and listen in. I can’t make out everything they’re saying, but I can make out one thing. “West.”

I hold in a gasp. The location is somewhere to the west.

As if on instinct, my fingers curl around the compass hanging from my neck and beneath my shirt, and I walk backward until I’m standing next to Buddy. If I’m going to do this, it needs to be now. Griffin doesn’t have Zoey’s best interest in mind, despite what William said. After that outburst, I don’t trust Griffin enough to wait around for him to get his head out of his ass and formulate a plan. Especially if he’s not going to let me in on the plan.

With none of them paying any attention to me, I motion for Buddy to follow. We start walking with my compass as our guide.

The sun is high in the sky. It’s bright, and it’s hot. Sweat rolls down my back and I regret not taking some water. We haven’t gotten very far, still pretty much in the broad area where we set up the campground, but this is going to be miserable. It wasn’t nearly this hot sitting beside the fire with water and tree coverage.

Movement in the trees has me stopping in my tracks, and Buddy presses against my leg with a low growl. I grab my knife and hold it ready, waiting for a rotter to appear. When the figure emerges from the treeline, I groan with disappointment. I’d much rather it be a rotter.

“What do you want?” I whisper-shout.

“You won’t make it far on foot, especially since you don’t even know where you’re going. What plan do you have?”

“I know it’s to the west. You didn’t keep your voices down like you thought. I’ll find it faster on my own than I will by waiting for you guys to tell me where it’s at.” I wait for him to argue, to talk me out of it, but his response surprises me more than his appearance.

“What about when you get there?”

“I think best on my feet.”

“No plan?”

“You mean other than sneaking in, getting it, and then sneaking out? We already kill them all, anyway.”

“Yeah, I better go with you. But,” he holds up a finger that’s still bloody, “I won’t tell you where it’s at. I’ll merely keep you company.”

“Did you at least bring water?”

His lips curve into a grin, and he holds out a bottle of water. I take it and gulp down two-thirds of the bottle before I kneel and drip a thin stream in front of Buddy. He laps at it until the bottle is empty.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me then.” Max takes the bottle back with pride. I shouldn’t have emptied it so soon. Maybe Griffin is right and I won’t survive out here on my own. That’s something I’ll never confess.

Feeling like I have no choice but to accept the offer, I continue walking with him by my side. I’m following my compass west, but I’d like to believe that if I head off course that he’ll correct it. Though that’s probably nothing more than wishful thinking. Maybe I could sweeten the deal by telling him I’ll let him kill every single dreg all on his own. He’d like that.

After about another thirty feet, Max stops, grabs me, and spins me around to face him. Buddy growls and Max smiles down at him. “What an excellent guard dog he is to you already.”

I struggle against his grasp, but he holds me in place. “Why are you here?”

“Griffin would kill me if he knew I saw you walk away and didn’t go after you. Well, I might wind up killing him instead, but he’d sure as hell put up a good fight. He’s a little trooper.”

“Not like he’d care. He yelled at me to go on my own and get myself killed, if you recall. Not the words of someone who would worry about my safety.”

“He might surprise you.”

He’s basically repeating what William had said. I can’t believe it until I see it and I’m tired of all the dancing-around-the-subject that they’re doing. I can’t hang onto hope that these strangers will go to such great lengths to help save someone they’ll never meet. I’ve already been let down by people I trusted. I can’t go around relying on people I’ve met only a day ago.

“Why did you grab me?”

He shrugs. “Idunno. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

His green eyes are almost vibrant as they roam across my face, taking in every detail. I shiver under his gaze and his grin widens. “If you’re trying to stop me from finding that place, then it’s not going to work. I’ll even let you kill every single dreg all on your own.”

“You will?” His eyes sparkle. I knew he’d like that. But when I try to pull away again, he still holds on.

“Max.” Buddy growls and butts his head against Max’s leg until he finally lets go of me with a laugh.

That was weird, even for Max. Every time I wonder what he’s thinking, I remind myself that the inside of his mind is likely more scary than the physical world right now. But it’s not enough to stop me from being curious.

We continue on in silence. This is a waste of time and energy. He has the information I need. He can’t be perfectly content watching me go in the wrong direction. Or maybe he is. These guys have been messing with my head since I met them. “Why won’t you let me walk away? Why won’t you guys just let me go home?”

His head tilts to the side. “You really want to know?”

“Yes,” I say with exasperation. “I know you like the chase, but this is getting ridiculous.”

He grabs me again, turning me to face him, his eyes turning fierce even when his ink black hair falls into his face. I don’t understand why he needs to do this in order to talk to me right now. We don’t need to be in each other’s arms every time we have a damn conversation. “The chase is one thing, but actually leaving is entirely different. Because the last time someone walked away from me, it was to leave me for dead, and I don’t quite favor that feeling. Not back then, and not now.”

Tension melts out of me, and my heart hurts for him. Being abandoned is an internal wound that isn’t easy to heal. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

His normally bright, playful eyes turn haunted. “I’m not, because it shows the real people in my life, so if you want to leave, then you can leave, but don’t pretend to care. Because leaving after you convince me you care is the worst thing you could do.”

His words catch me off guard, and I’m not sure if we’re talking about the same thing. He doesn’t understand. My problem is that I care too much. That’s what put everyone at risk back in the colony. Because I cared about someone I shouldn’t have. “Max, it’s not that I don’t care. In case you missed it, I’m not walking away from you; I’m walking with you. Sure, you didn’t give me a choice, and you keep stopping us on this walk, but I’m not leaving you; I’m only trying to help my friend, because I’m the only one who will.” I pull myself from his grasp and before I can think too much on this random weird conversation, I trip over something in the grass and fall face forward. A cold, clammy hand wraps around my ankle. Oh, hell no.

Sitting up, I slice the hand straight off at the same time Max slams the morning star into the skull and Buddy sinks his teeth into the rotter’s calf and tugs until it tears in two. I shake the hand free from my ankle and when it falls to the ground, lifeless; I laugh. I can’t help it. A big belly laugh that I haven’t had in a long time rolls through me and I have to really work to clench my teeth together to keep from making too much noise.

Max grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet before wrapping me in his arms. I bury my face against his chest while I try to stop laughing so much. Only now do I realize how broad his chest is on his lithe form. I almost fit perfectly against him, with his arms wrapping around me. When my laughter dies down, he lifts one arm and twirls me around in the sunlight streaming through the trees like something ethereal.

“You’re a puzzle more complicated than a Rubik’s cube. You’re not nearly as normal as you try to be. You’re a bit fucked up.” He stops twirling me and holds me close, his striking and intense, vibrant green eyes burning into mine with every word. “Maybe not as much as I am, but you’re not like any other girl before or after this apocalypse. You care about your people as much as I care about mine.”

“Zoey means as much to me and Griffin and William mean to you.”

His hand raises up, and he rubs my cheek with his knuckles. “That’s exactly why we’re going to do everything in our power to help you both.”

Griffin’s voice carries out to us, calling our names. Max looks in the direction we came from before looking back at me with a smirk.

“Well, pet, what do you think? Stumble around and cross your fingers that you can find what you need, or wait for a safer plan, then go in there with three guys who’d rather fight their way into a dreg’s hideout than see you get hurt trying on your own?”

“I have a feeling you enjoy the fight more than you should.”

“You’re not wrong. Nothing makes me more giddy than a good bloodbath. If you’re a good girl, I might even let you play with Debbie someday.”

“To be clear, that’s your morning star, right? Not someone else you have locked in the trunk?”

His grin widens, and he laughs as though I’ve said something hysterical. “Nah, pet, the trunk is only for you.”

Griffin’s call comes out again, more worried this time, and I make my choice. I pull away from Max and the intensity in his gaze. Grabbing his hand, I smile back at him when his fingers clasp around mine and then I lead us back toward camp, my head swimming with confusion.

9

WILLIAM

I’m almost done washing off in the stream when I hear someone approaching. Turning around, a little thrill goes through me when I see it’s Emily. She hasn’t noticed me yet, still pushing her way through the foliage with Buddy leading the way. I almost laugh when I realize that he’s leading her down the most difficult path. Instead, I bite my lip to hold in the laugh and watch them approach. I take advantage of these few moments before she notices me.

Her long, tanned legs show she spends a lot of time in the sun. I’m surprised that she prefers to wear shorts. Even if they are cooler in the summer heat, they provide little protection. She’s already got some marks on her legs from fighting the foliage to get down to the stream. I make a mental note to find her a decent pair of pants. Pants and waffles. My list is growing.

She reaches the edge of the water and sees me standing in the stream. Her amber eyes widen when they start at my face and then make their way down my body, which is bare of everything but a pair of boxers. Water drips down my chest since I finished cleaning off moments before I saw her, and my head tilts to the side, wondering if that look I see in her eyes means she’s interested in what she sees. She hasn’t looked at me like that until now. No one has, actually, in a very long time. I looked at her once, that first night by the fire. She didn’t see because it was dark, but when she told me about helping her friend, I began looking at her completely differently. Then I forced myself to stop until now. I got a peek into her heart, which is much softer than the hardened exterior she holds up like a trophy. We’ve seen many pretty girls since the dead rose, but none who’ve had a heart worth protecting. She doesn’t even realize it.

When she catches me watching her watch me, she diverts her gaze. “Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was down here. I figured I’d finally come clean up. Max says I’m disgusting.”

I scoff at that and make a mental note to talk to Max about his word choice. “You’re not disgusting, Emily. He might be, though.” She smiles at that. “Now, if you really want to see disgusting, you should’ve seen what he did to the doctor. He left me to clean up the mess, and believe me, it’s best left to your imagination.”

“That’s why you’re back here washing up?” She sets her knives down on the ground and hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts. “I would’ve never guessed with how good you look.” Her eyes widen when she realizes what she said. “I mean, with how wet you are. Clean, you’re clean.”

I run a hand through my hair, sending droplets of water flying off in all directions. A metallic taste runs into my mouth when I bite my lip so hard to hold in the laugh that I draw blood. “Whatever you say, Emily.”

She shakes her head and slides her shorts down, dropping them to the ground in a heap next to her socks and shoes. Dirt coats her legs, but it’s what’s around her ankle that catches my attention and my body goes rigid.

“What’s that?”

“Uh…my bare legs?”

I motion to the marks around her ankle. “The scratches.”

“Oh, that. I didn’t notice a rotter lying on the ground until it grabbed me. I tripped. It grabbed my ankle, I fell, chopped off the hand while Max smashed the skull and Buddy tore into what was left of the calf muscle.” She shrugs like it’s nothing, but it’s not nothing. If the scratches are deep enough…

“Come here.” My command is pointless since I’m already wading through the water toward her.

“It’s not that bad. I didn’t even realize I was scratched.”

“That’s the problem. You won’t always notice.” I push away the darkness that creeps at the edges of my mind. I can’t think about those memories right now. Not here. I can’t go back to that place. Then something she said echoes in my head and I ask a single question. “Max was there?”

She huffs out annoyance. “Yeah, he came to follow me when I went looking for the dreg’s hideout.”

“You went out on your own? We were all going to go together. Was it because of Griffin?”

“Well…yeah. I’m not a very good team player.” She looks away when shame creeps across her face. “People don’t help me. Not because I don’t want them to, but because no one ever has before. I’ve been in situations…I’ve just…I’ve been on my own. Even when surrounded by others, I still had to fight on my own. Zoey’s the only one who’s ever been there.”

Heat courses through my body. I can’t imagine a situation where someone, anyone, could ignore Emily when she needed help. My hand clenches into a fist at my side, and I have to work to uncurl my fingers. “I understand it’s probably difficult to believe us when we say we’ll help you. But it’s true, Em. We work as a team, and you’re part of that team now.”

Her eyes sparkle and she averts her gaze so I won’t see them water. Then she clears her throat and goes back to when she left. “He wouldn’t give me any information, only keep me company. I didn’t need company, though. I needed the information.”

“Yeah, he can be an asshole like that.” If she keeps talking, then maybe everything will be alright. Maybe she won’t be infected. Maybe the scratches aren’t deep enough to pass along the virus. As long as she keeps talking. “Tell me more about what happened.”

She steps into the cool water and I’m only a foot away from her now when she slips on a slick stone. I leap forward and catch her, my arms wrapping around her tiny waist and one of her arms draping around my broad shoulders. I hold her like this for a moment too long before helping her regain her footing. Once she’s standing again, I don’t let her go. I hold on to her hands and walk backward, helping her wade into the stream until she’s no longer on the slippery rocks.

I still hold on to her when she sits down on a large rock, the water coming up only a couple of inches on her. “I’m sorry we’re not telling you where the location is. We wanted to make sure you didn’t run off on your own. Clearly that’s not working.” I smirk.

“Well, I know it’s somewhere to the west.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Eavesdropping, were you?”

“Of course.”

Chuckling, I kneel before her, then lift her foot out of the water and into my lap. My fingers run across the rough scratches on her skin, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. “They’re not deep. You’re lucky.”

“I didn’t even think of checking. I didn’t feel the scratch, only when the hand grabbed me.”

“You should always check. The virus doesn’t transfer only by being bit. If a scratch is deep enough…” I shake my head. “Please check next time. If it happens and it’s caught quick enough, then we can do something about it.”

“Like cut off my leg?”

“If it comes to that, yes. I’d rather have you alive with one leg than dead with two.”

“How can you be sure that would work?”

My voice turns cold when the memories wash over me. The screaming. The crying. The blood. “I’ve seen it.”

“Is that person still alive?”

“One thing about cutting off a limb is that you have to cauterize the wound in time. Not every situation allows easy access to perform that.”

Her gaze is on me. I can feel it. It’s heavy, and it’s burrowing into the top of my head and trying to reach my soul. I clench my jaw but keep my grip on her gentle and hope that she doesn’t ask more questions that I don’t want to answer.

With gentle fingers, I splash some water on her skin and clean the area around the scratches. The area I clean grows bigger as more dirt falls away, and I don’t think I would mind cleaning her up myself if she wants to stay seated.

“I’m really glad you’re not infected,” I say with a whisper, then look up at her and grin. “Because then I’d have to explain to Griffin why I killed you, and he won’t take that well.”

She laughs and pulls her foot back. “Can you still tell him that? I’d like to hide in the bushes or something and see his reaction for myself.”

“Absolutely not. That’s not something we joke about here.”

“You literally just now joked about it,” she points out.

“Doesn’t count.” Buddy plops down on the bank at the edge of the water and watches us. “I’ve noticed the dog has been staying close to you since we brought him here.”

“We have a lot in common. He was rescued from his captors, but I’m still stuck with mine.”

“We’re not your captors.” I stand up.

“You won’t let me leave.”

“It’s more than that.” I move so that I’m standing behind her and then kneel and run my fingers through her hair. Well, I try to, but they’re knotted with dirt. “Have you been rolling around in the mud with Buddy?”

“How else do you bond with a new dog?”

My fingers still in her tangled hair. “Really?”

She laughs. “No. I’ve been fighting for my life for the last few days and I don’t have a brush. That makes for a messy combination.”

“Well, I don’t have a brush, but I might be able to help you with something. Stay here.” I wade over to the bank and grab a bottle from the little pile of supplies I left there, then return to her. “I’d say. Tilt your head back.”

She does as I ask until she’s lying with her back against the rock and her head in my lap. I dip her hair in the water. There’s more dirt and grime in it than I realized, but I do my best to get as much of it out as I can. She rests her elbows on the large rock behind her and looks up at me, watching while I work. I try to not get lost in the curious amber eyes looking up at me. Not that she has much else to look at right now.

My fingers snag on a chain around her neck. Pulling gently, I follow it down to a compass resting over her chest. I’ve seen her fidgeting with it since the day we took her, but I feel it’s more than an accessory. “What’s this?”

“A compass.”

I chuckle. “I know that, Em.”

She sighs. “It was my dad’s. We went camping a lot when I was growing up, so he took it everywhere. Then I took it off of him after he became a rotter. Didn’t think he’d be needing it anymore.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you had to go through hard times, too, William.”

We remain in silence, sitting in the water while I do my best to untangle the knots in her hair. Still, I want to know more about her. There has to be more than the sad stories she’s shared about her current life. “So what’s your story?”

“Mine?”

“Who were you before the apocalypse?”

Her question catches me off guard. This isn’t a normal topic of conversation anymore. Nobody we’ve ever run into has cared about something like that. All anyone cares about now is do you have any food, and are you alive or rotting? “I was a software engineer. Computers were my life, day in and day out. Thought it would be the job to set me up for life. Turns out there’s not much use for a computer guy nowadays. Go figure.”

“Have to say I agree with you. No use for a computer guy in this day and age.” Her words make me pause, but then I’m surprised at what she says next. “Too bad you’re wrong.”

Curious, I meet her gaze. “How so?”

“You have skills that are used all the time. After you kidding me? I haven’t been here for very long and even I’ve noticed it.”

“Please, enlighten me.” I tug her hair playfully.

She holds her hands in the air and counts on her fingers. “Problem solving, systematic thinking and planning, resource management—which I saw you doing and I’m pretty sure we’d be out of food if it weren’t for you. Adaptability—hello, what’s more urgent to adapt to than the end of the world? Teamwork and communication—you’re the least of an asshole here. Critical thinking—if we’re ever in a position where we need a computer guy, boom, there you are. Not to mention⁠—”

“Okay, I see your point.” Heat rises up my neck and I don’t know how I’ll react if she keeps going on. I haven’t felt this seen in…well, I haven’t been counting the days like Griffin has, but it’s been a really long time. These are things I never considered, skills I didn’t realize I have, let alone use. I guess my job in my previous life set me up for the apocalypse better than I thought.

“Oh please, I’m just getting started.”

“You think you can turn any bad thing into a good thing?”

“Try me.”

“Before the dead rose, my hobby was music. I played guitar and harmonica. I still have the harmonica, but I can’t play it.”

“Why can’t you play it?”

I raise an eyebrow at her genuine confusion. “Music attracts rotters. Well, being too loud does. Even talking like this, there are probably dead dragging their corpses our way right now.”

“Doesn’t mean you should stop. It’s the best way to attract them all to one location, freeing up other areas for you to get to.”

“That’s what you were doing when we found you. We thought you were insane.”

She laughs. “I mean, don’t write that off yet. We’re barely getting to know each other.”

“Good point. So what about you?”

“What do you mean, what about me? I’m not done fluffing your ego.” She smiles wide and I let out a laugh and get back to washing her hair. This time, I squirt some of the shampoo into my palm first. It smells like strawberries.

“Who were you before the dead rose?”

“A botanist. That was my job and my hobby. Both of which are pretty pointless now, too.”

I snort. “Do I need to list everything to prove you wrong?”

“No. But I have a strong understanding of planting seasons.” She goes quiet and even though she’s looking up, she’s no longer seeing me.

“What’s going through your mind, Emily?”

“People used to be so nice before the dead rose. Well, not everyone. But there weren’t many people who were dreg-like until it happened. Like, that’s who they really were deep inside and now they no longer have to hide. That’s my take on it, anyway.”

“I’ve thought about that, too. I think I’ve run into more cruel people than kind.”

“Is that why you three keep to yourselves instead of joining a colony?”

“One reason.”

“Do you wonder if the world could ever go back to how it was?”

Stalling my movements, I push her up into a seated position. Her hair was clean a while ago, but I couldn’t stop, not until now. And now the wet strands fall down her back and over her shoulders, soaking her pale green t-shirt. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. It’s stupid, but sometimes I dream about there being a cure. Do you think that’s stupid?”

Shaking my head, I run my fingers through her wet hair. “I don’t think that’s stupid at all. I don’t know how the world could recover if it happened. This is quite a thing to bounce back from. It’s changed people, and I don’t just mean the virus.”

A mosquito lands on her nose and she swats at it, but it flies away so all she does is smack herself in the face. “Ow.” She holds both of her hands to her nose when her eyes water.

I chuckle and turn her toward me. “Here, let me see.”

“No.”

“Then I’ll just hold you until you feel better.” I pull her against my chest and wrap my arms around her. She’s so small compared to me, but still she fits perfectly.

“I can’t believe I did that.”

“You’re fine. I saw nothing, so there are no witnesses. What is it you did?”

“Liar.”

I chuckle again, but then Buddy is standing over her, sniffing her from head to foot. I’m not ready to let her go, but the dog is worrying, so she’s forced to remove her hands and show Buddy that she’s okay. There’s a small red mark on her face, but she’s otherwise okay.

“See, Buddy? I’m fine.” She moves away from me and finishes washing up the rest of her body. I get out of the water and start drying off, giving her some privacy.

Once I’m dressed, she’s still not done. She’s moved to a spot that’s a little deeper and I believe it’s to get a little more hidden, so I move away. But I can’t leave her. I don’t want to. She could slip and fall and get hurt, and we’ll all be too far away to know. So I sit at the base of a tree where she can’t see me. I can’t see her either, but I could hear her if she calls out. I pull out my harmonica, but I don’t play it. I only look at it. There was a rotter close enough to camp to grab her, so there could be more out there, and the last thing I want to do is attract them. But for the first time since the dead rose, I want to play music again.

10

EMILY

The glare I give Griffin is unreal. “We’re not leaving Buddy in the car.”

“If we roll the windows down, he should be fine.”

“How about we leave you in the car and bring Buddy instead? He’d be much less of a nuisance.”

Griffin closes his eyes and rubs at his temple, something he’s been doing a lot lately. “This was his first home. Do you think he won’t try to return to them?”

“You must’ve missed the way they treated him. They freaking kicked him, Griffin. Maybe I should kick you and then you can judge for yourself.”

He breathes out a sigh, a sign that he’s given up. Smart man. “Fine, we’ll bring the dog.”

I have to refrain from pumping my fist into the air. I’ve been wearing him down. It’s been a day and a half since Max got the information out of the dreg doctor. It took the rest of that day for Griffin to cool down enough to be around me without William stepping in between us, and then all of yesterday for him to finalize a plan enough to share it with me.

The plan is a pretty good one, but I’m not telling him that. His head is already big enough.

If the doctor was right, there should be dregs patrolling the outside, but only a few of them. We’ll take them down and take their clothes. We’ll have to hide them somewhere, otherwise a pile of naked men would be sure to get some attention.

Max was hellbent on killing them on the spot after what they put us through a couple of days ago, but Griffin is adamant that knocking them unconscious will be enough. He doesn’t want to draw any extra attention to us. It’s going to be hard enough blending in as it is, and the chance that someone will recognize that we don’t belong there is pretty high. So I’m curious to see how this plays out. My vote is on Max. Griffin is stubborn, but Max is unstoppable. Griffin can only reel him in so much. If he wants to feed his personified weapon, then there won’t be any stopping him.

I, personally, don’t care either way as long as we get that insulin.

We get out of the car and the first thing Buddy does is stand by my side. I give Griffin a triumphant grin, but he shakes his head and looks away. Proving him wrong gives me a thrill. I wonder what I can prove him wrong on next.

Griffin leads the way, and William follows. Then me and Buddy, and Max behind us. We parked in a thick of trees big enough to fit the car and hide it. We can’t even see the hideout yet. It’s going to be a short walk, but I can feel the excitement radiating through me.

We don’t have any information other than where the hideout is located, and I hope the doctor was telling the truth because we can’t exactly go back and ask him again. I really hope he was telling the truth about the insulin. If we get inside and find the medical room and it turns out to be empty, I…well, I don’t know what I would do. I only hope that it’s there. Zoey is counting on me.

When a building with a few people scattered around it carrying guns comes into view, I steel my spine. Max leans in from behind and whispers in my ear. “Don’t get any brave ideas, pet.”

I elbow him away. I’m grateful that I’m not alone in this and that these guys will go through this hell with me, but I’m tired of being treated like I’m fragile. Well, it’s more the smugness they have about it. All that masculine energy they like to throw around, claiming they’re invincible, and so am I if I’m with them. I guess I can’t fault them for that. They don’t recognize that I’ve already endured enough damage to prevent me from ever becoming fragile.

This is something I’d set out to do on my own, after all. I’ve been on solo scavenging missions for so long that I haven’t exactly built teamwork skills. I don’t even care about proving myself. All I want is that medicine. And to not die while getting it, that’s sort of an important goal of mine. At least that’s one goal the four of us can agree on.

We hide behind two cars, Max and I behind one, while Griffin and William are behind the other. We’re only a few feet away from the first dreg. I look around, trying to see if we can sneak by unnoticed. I see Griffin doing the same thing from behind the second car a few feet away, and when our eyes meet, we agree that it’s not possible. We’ll need a diversion.

“I got this.” Max slides around the back of the car we’re hiding behind and shoves a dagger through the kidney of the nearest dreg, then lowers him to the ground without a sound. He strips him down, slipping into his pants and jacket that are clearly too big for him, but I like the idea. Then he repeats the process with the second closest dreg who isn’t paying any attention, but this time he brings the pants and jacket back behind the car. “Hold out your arms and turn around.”

“Did you really need to kill them?”

He thinks about it for a moment and then shrugs. “Dunno. Now turn around.”

Raising an eyebrow, I do as he says. He places the jacket on me but then looks at the pants with a frown. “What is it?”

“There’s no way you can wear these. You’re too tiny.” He tosses the pants into the mud behind him and rubs his chin while he thinks.

“Hey, I could’ve used those,” William whispers from the other car.

“You two can pick out your own kills. I’m only treating the lady.”

I roll my eyes, but then he snaps his fingers.

“What was that?” someone calls out. Dammit, he got the attention of another one.

Max’s eyes widen, as does his grin, and he holds a finger to his lips before peering around the back of the car. Footsteps approach, and when they get close enough, he goes in for the kill. He’s so fast that even though I knew it was coming, I almost miss it.

He appears behind the car again and grabs all of my hair together before stuffing it into a beanie and pulling it down. He beams down at me. “There, that should do it.”

Max kisses my cheek before looking around the car again. William is putting on the clothes of the third dreg that Max killed, which he’s rolling his eyes at, while Griffin lowers a fourth dreg to the ground before stripping his clothes. He and William push the four bodies beneath the cars.

“This one’s still alive,” Griffin says, hauling him inside of the car instead. He glares at Max and then at the three bodies he’s kicking beneath the car.

“She needs the pants, even if they’re too big,” William says.

“She’ll trip in them,” Max says.

“And you think walking around in those shorts is a better idea?”

Max thinks it over. “Hmmm, you might have a point. Come on pet, we’re not done playing dress up.”

“What are you—” before I can finish the question, Max is taking a knife to the pants he’d tossed, slashing them up a bit before handing them to me. They still have some mud on them, but I’ve worn worse.

He waits patiently while I step into them, and grins when he sees the surprised look on my face that they’re the right length this time. They’re still huge, but he pulls on some of the slashed pieces and ties them together so they’ll stay in place. “Much better.”

“Let’s go, princess.” Griffin motions for us to follow.

“I’m not a damn princess,” I grumble, but I take my spot behind William and follow anyway.

We make our way through the hideout undetected. Dregs nod at us as they pass, and I have to keep myself from jumping out of my skin every time one of them looks at me. William reaches his hand back and laces his fingers with mine. It’s oddly comforting, and it helps.

“Don’t worry, pet, we won’t let anything happen to you. You’ve got the trio surrounding you,” Max says, resting his hand on my shoulder while we walk. Releasing the death grip I had on my knife, I take calming breaths. I never thought I would feel this safe and comforted by being with these men, when all they’ve done until now was stress me out. Still, I would also feel a lot safer if we weren’t in a dreg hideout, but right now I’m really glad they’re here. There’s no way I would’ve gotten in undetected if I was on my own. Damn Griffin always being right.

Griffin keeps looking back at me and each time he does, his eyes linger either on William’s hand in mine or Max’s hand on my shoulder for a moment before looking forward again. Buddy is by my side, and a wall is on my other. My free hand rubs the top of his head now and then. I’m realizing how ridiculous I was when I tried to run away and find this place on my own.

We check every room as we pass. Most of them are empty or have dregs sleeping in bed. One door I open is a restroom and I lock eyes with a man at a urinal. I would’ve rather faced a horde of rotters. Griffin shuts that door pretty quickly.

Another dead end door.

And another.

Max’s idea to blend in works perfectly. The building used as the hideout is dark inside, due to a lot of lightbulbs that are burned out. I don’t know how they’re running power here, but they are. It seems to be a better setup than my colony has. I wonder if we have time to figure that out before we leave.

Men walk by without paying us even a single glance, and I have to keep myself from gagging on the body odor. I know that it’s the apocalypse, but that doesn’t mean we always need to smell like it.

A few women walk by, too. Their eyes remain downcast while they follow the men leading them. I stare at the back of Griffin’s head. He didn’t try making me stay in the car a couple of days ago because he’s an asshole. He really tried to help. That realization annoys me even more, and if I let him know, then he’ll become even more insufferable.

I’m growing anxious. We’ve checked behind a lot of doors, and so far nothing that could hold medical supplies. I pick at my nails and William reaches back and grabs my hand again, forcing me to stop. His warmth radiates through me. How are these guys not freaking out like I am?

A door opens in front of us and a man walks out, talking into a walkie-talkie. “Front entrance, respond that you understand. I need an update.”

William’s hand slides out of mine when he leaves us. He claps a hand on the man’s shoulder and plasters a smile to his face. “Hey, I’ve been looking for you. I was told to come find you to see where you wanted me.”

The man looks at William through slitted eyes. “Who are you, again?”

“George, remember?” William shakes his head. “Those guys were right about you. Your memory is going. We’ve met three times already.”

The man’s face turns a light shade of red. “Who said that? I never—fine,” he lets out a sigh. “George, right, I remember now. Why don’t you go find out what’s happening at the front entrance? I have something else to take care of.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can count on me.”

He turns away but then stops and looks back at William again, and then at the three of us who are standing there waiting for him. I press my back against the wall. Why didn’t we keep moving? We’re going to blow it.

“Who are all of you?” The man brings the walkie up to his mouth but William spins him around and pushes him through the door he’d come out of, before following in himself.

There’s a grunt and something heavy falls to the floor. William reemerges with a spot of blood splattered on his chin. I pull my hand into the sleeve of my jacket and step up to him, reaching up to wipe off the blood. He gives me a soft smile. “I had to do it.”

“I know,” I whisper.

“Willie-boy having all the fun,” Max grumbles.

“It’s William,” he responds in a bored tone.

Laughter rings out from a room up ahead where a door is ajar. We pass by, peeking inside, but see only a group of dregs sitting at a table and playing cards. I’m passing by it next, then I catch part of their conversation. One of them talks about how he left his family to die in order to save himself, then he laughs as though it’s the greatest punchline to a joke.

Before I can finish my thought, wondering how someone could be so cruel, something brushes against me and I look behind me to see Max striding into the room. I tug on William’s hand, who gets Griffin’s attention, but it’s already too late. Max walks up to the dregs with a chilling grin, then pulls his morning star from his back and swings it around. They never stood a chance. It happened so fast.

Light shines down from the skylight above and Max tilts his head back, so the light illuminates the fresh blood that’s splattered across his chin and jacket, still shiny and wet. His tongue runs along his bottom teeth and he lets out a laugh before putting his head upright and meeting my gaze. His grin widens even more when he sees me, and he strides back to my side and licks my cheek. I let out a squeal and use my oversized jacket sleeve to wipe it off, hoping that he didn’t just get blood all over my face.

“Relax, pet. Let’s keep going.”

“Are you alright?” I ask. It was an instant bloodbath, and no one stopped it. Not that we had any time to do anything about it. I look at the other two, but Griffin is already walking forward again. I know Max is on a level all his own, but this isn’t normal. Yet they act as though it is.

“I’m perfectly fine. What a beautiful day for a massacre.” He flips the lock on the inside of the door before closing it. “There. Now they can stay preserved like that until someone breaks down the door.”

“Or has a key,” I point out.

“Quiet, you two. Stop walking around and talking about all the guys we’ve been killing here.” William chastises us, then nods at another dreg who turns a corner and walks past us without sparing us a glance.

“We need to hurry. Take opposite sides of the hall, but no less than two people together. Max, you’re with me.” Griffin turns into a room a couple more doors down and Max takes the one next to him, disobeying his order without guilt. William walks into a room across from them and motions for me to follow before heading through, but I look through the door of the next room and have to swallow a squeal. I walk into that one instead.

Endless shelves of medical supplies fill the room. The first thing I do is head straight for the fridge and throw open the doors. I don’t have time to look inside before the door slams shut in my face and a man with a scowl is staring back at me. My fingers barely avoid getting caught in the door before I jump back with surprise. I didn’t realize there was already someone in this room.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“I—I…um, I was looking for some medicine.”

“Why?”

When I stumble for an answer, he spits on the ground and wraps his hands around my throat, pushing me until I’m bent backward over a table. Buddy barks and bites his leg, but then sails across the floor when he kicks him away. The man rips off my hat and when my long brown hair tumbles out; he calls out for his friends through his walkie.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves an intruder. We’re going to have fun with you.”

“Can’t…breathe…” My words come out as a rasp with the air leaving my lungs. I scratch at his arms, but he only laughs. His laugh cuts short when a knife lodges into his eye socket and he lets go, air filling my lungs while his screams fill the air.

Griffin lunges in front of me and pulls the man’s head around, snapping his neck before getting into a knife fight with the other two who came to the dead man’s aid. One of them stabs Griffin, who stumbles back against the fridge and falls to his knees, but he reaches up and stabs one man straight through the groin. Griffin pulls him down and slices his throat to silence him before doing the same to the last one.

I’m choking on the sudden rush of air, but I crawl toward him. “Griffin,” I rasp and move until I’m kneeling in front of him.

Griffin reaches out and touches my face, his gaze dropping to my throat. “Are you okay?”

I cough and then swallow hard, trying to soothe my throat. “I’m fine, thanks to you.” Buddy comes crawling over and licks my face. I burry my face in his short fur before kissing the top of his head and pulling away. I’m relieved that he doesn’t flinch when I press my hand against where he was kicked. “Thanks, Buddy.”

“You shouldn’t have come in here alone. We move in teams. I told you that. Why did everyone split up?” His voice turns angry. “Every single one of you split up.”

“I know. How hurt are you?”

He hisses through his teeth when he tries to move. “I’ll be fine once I get up.” His hand falls to his thigh where blood seeps through his pants. His eyes droop, but only for a moment before they open and stay focused on me. “Now, do you believe me when I say I’m only trying to help you?”

“That’s what you’re worried about right now? Being right?”

“Hey, I could’ve died trying to my point across.”

“You’re a fool.” I reach for his belt buckle.

“Woah, I guess my invite to the party must’ve gotten lost in the mail,” Max says, rounding the table to get to us. He kneels down and tears open the worn fabric of Griffin’s pants leg. “Flesh wound. You’ll be fine. Think you can stand?”

“You’re an ass,” Griffin responds, then turns to me. “I still didn’t get my answer.”

“Yeah, Max isn’t the one who’s the ass here. But if it makes you happy, these are my first encounters with dregs, and it’s so much worse than I expected. I’m sorry for being a stubborn shit like you, and not listening.”

I don’t realize how tense Griffin’s shoulders are until they relax. As much as I don’t want to have this heart-to-heart right now, I’m relieved to see that he’s about to bleed out.

Well, I’m not actually relieved. That would be horrible. But at least it grants us the end of this stupid conversation.

Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I lift it over my head when Max stops me. “As much as I’d love to sit back and watch the show, you’re going to need to keep your clothes on or we’ll never get out of here.”

He pulls off his shirt instead, and I have to avert my gaze to keep from gawking. I had no idea he had all those ripped muscles. Almost like William’s that I got an eyeful of a couple days ago, but on a more athletic frame.

“Why couldn’t we have used the shirt off this dreg? Why are you and Emily trying to strip down at a time like this?”

Griffin has a point. Max and I look at each other, and then Max slides the shirt off the first guy that Griffin killed and he puts it on himself. “Ah, this one is more bloody. I like it. Here, you can still have mine.”

Griffin grumbles something that I can’t make out.

After wrapping his leg with the shirt, Max wraps one arm around Griffin and helps him stand up. “There you go. We’ll steal some extra bandages, too. You’re going to need them.”

“I’m fine. Did you find what you need, princess?”

“Don’t know, I didn’t have time to look.” Turning back to the fridge while Max and William kick the bodies out of the way, I open the door.

Disappointment flows through me with such potency that I could pass out.

Right there in front of me is the great big nothing that I feared. There are a few things, but nothing useful. Nothing that Zoey needs.

“How much do we take?” William asks, looking over my head.

“None of it. There’s nothing here.” I reach in, grab the vials, knowing nothing about what they are other than they’re not the insulin I need, and I throw them to the ground. Glass shatters around my feet and I scream with frustration.

Arms wrap around me, pinning my own arms to my sides as I’m brought in against a hard chest. William’s lips brush the cuff of my ear. “Shhh, it’s okay. We won’t stop looking. We won’t give up.”

Water collecting in the corner of my eye threatens to fall, but I hold it back. I don’t want to explain. How the reason I’m out here on my own, searching for the one thing that could save Zoey’s life, is because all of my colony people think I’m a failure. Because I made a mistake they could never forgive, looping Zoey into my shame circle as well, all because she remained my friend. And after dragging these three men into the heart of a dreg’s hideout and nearly getting them killed, I’ve failed again and put even more lives at risk.

Guilt can be a bigger bitch than karma.

Shaking my head and blinking away the tears before they can fall, I swallow hard and force my breath to even out. “You’re right. It’s not over yet.”

“And it won’t be over until we find it,” William adds. “Is there anything else here that you want to get, Emily?”

“Over there.” I nod toward a shelf with bandages and ointments, and William drops his hold on me. “We should get some to treat Griffin’s leg once we get out of here.”

“My leg’s fine.”

“And see if there’s anything that could make him less of a stubborn ass while we’re at it,” I add.

“So duct tape, suppositories,” Max counts things off on his fingers.

“Suppositories?” Griffin looks dumbfounded.

Max grins. “Yeah, to loosen you up.”

“I ought to strangle you myself.”

“Ooh, foreplay.” Max waggles his eyebrows before jumping out of Griffin’s reach and darting around the table.

“How much do we take?” William asks, ignoring the other two while studying the supplies and holding out a bag for me.

“All of it.” I swipe the bag from him and begin filling it until every bandage and ointment is inside and it’s bursting at the seams. I sling it over my shoulder.

Griffin walks over to me, slides the strap from my shoulder, and places it over his. I stare at him, dumbfounded. “Is this your way of keeping me with you, withholding the supplies?”

His eyes narrow at me. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“You’re the one who’s hurt here. And gentlemen don’t handcuff women.”

“Some do.” Max raises his hand. “But if it makes you feel better, you can carry this one. You’ve been anxious enough.” He slips the bag of random medical supplies from his own shoulder and slides it over mine, then presses his forefinger to the tip of my nose. “Boop.”

Lights flash all around the room. An alarm sounds out, punctuating the flashing lights. The words “Intruder Alert” fill the air.

Max raises his hands into the air. “Fine, fine, I’m sorry, I won’t boop you anymore. Actually, yes, I absolutely will.” He boops me again, grabs the morning star, and swings it around in the air. Drops of blood fly off from its most recent kill. “Looks like we’re the guests of honor. Come on, fellas, it’s time to party.”

11

MAX

This is exciting. Thrilling. It makes me feel alive. Although, looking at Emily, I don’t think she agrees. It confuses me. I miss my car music dancing rotter-killing crazy woman. I don’t know what else to do to make her smile. She didn’t even seem pleased with my little massacre earlier. It was a small one, too, only about seven of them. Nine, I guess, if she counts the two outside. No, make that ten. I had to get her a hat.

Still running on an adrenaline rush from the recent slaughter, the intruder alarm excites me. It means play time isn’t over yet. I swing Debbie around in my hand. She gets to drink a lot of blood today, lucky gal.

Emily’s panicked eyes meet mine, and she looks even more terrified than she should. I don’t like that. Seeing me should calm her. Or make her want to swing her knife around, too. Maybe she can’t swing her weapons around. I’ll have to show her how to do that when we get back to camp. It doesn’t accomplish much, but it adds a little flair to the kill.

“Hey, pet.” Her eyes narrow at my favorite nickname. I knew she’d like it, too. “Whatever happens, get to safety and don’t look behind you. I know I might look slightly unhinged with all this fun⁠—”

“Slightly? Dude, you need a mirror.” I don’t know what William thinks he’s doing, but he’s not helping.

“Slightly, yes, and I know that I’m covered in blood, but don’t you worry. We’ve got your back.” I should kiss her. Share some of this dreg blood with her that’s still smeared across my face. It could be a hello kiss that doubles as a goodbye kiss. Her lips part and I think she might think the same thing. Until she speaks.

“You will not sacrifice yourself like this. Nobody gets to die because of me.” She pushes me back, spins around, and shoves her knife straight through the heart of the first man who enters the room. What a lucky bastard.

Whoa, impressive. If she doesn’t have a name for that knife yet, she really should. I’ll even name it for her. Natalie. No, too many syllables. Francesca. Wait, same issue, but I like it. Hmmm. Clark. No, I don’t like her knife having a guy’s name. That doesn’t feel right. Does that mean she doesn’t like Debbie? I swing Debbie through the air and connect it with the skull of another dreg again and again until he falls to the ground, and then a few times more. Then once more for fun. I could change Debbie’s name to Clark. The morning star slips down my hand and I have to readjust my grip. Okay Debbie, you’ll keep your name. I get it, girl.

I grin at Emily, who’s still standing by her kill, watching me with a curious expression. “It’s on.”

The four of us—five, sorry, the dog counts as a person, too—fly through the long winding hallways from where we came. With me and Emily leading the way in the same uniform as the rest of the dregs, it’s easier to take them out than it otherwise would’ve been.

“Hey Grif, dressing up like these assholes to infiltrate this place was a brilliant plan.”

The dregs nearest to us turn their attention—and their weapons—on us. Griffin glares at me. “You couldn’t have waited until we were out of here to tell me that?”

I shrug and then swing Debbie around. “Thought you’d appreciate the compliment. My bad.”

Griffin and William slice and dice those who come at us from behind, and even Buddy gets in on the action, taking down a dreg here and there to make it easier for Emily to finish them off. Of course, Griffin moves like he hasn’t been hurt, the stubborn bastard. Good thing William shoved his bag and pockets full of extra bandages that wouldn’t fit in Emily’s bag. We’re going to need them. As long as Griffin doesn’t pass out from blood loss before we get out of here, we should be fine.

I love working as a team like this. The carnage, the gore, and the way the dregs scream when they realize they’ve lost their final battle.

Emily thrusts her knife at a dreg’s neck but he sidesteps her and punches her in the face. Debbie is ready to taste his blood, but it’s Griffin who gets there first, throwing his body in front of hers. He grabs the front of the man’s shirt and pulls him toward him before sliding his knife slowly across his throat, then watches him choke on his own blood.

Savage. I knew he was my friend for a reason.

Amusement dances on my lips. When the dreg falls to the ground, Griffin looks behind him at Emily, who’s cradling her cheek with her hand. He pries her hand away and rubs his thumb down her cheek. His empty gray eyes darken when she winces. Fascinating.

I want to watch them more, but when he places himself at her side, effectively stealing my spot, I want to introduce him to Debbie. I consider it until we reach the place where we came in and discover that the alarm has attracted all the rotters in the area. Whichever dreg designed that must have had a death wish. Did they not realize that rotters are most attracted to noise? What a dumbass. It’s a wonder how they survived this long with an alarm system like that.

Oh well, more fun for me.

I don’t want to waste this opportunity, so I shove past Griffin until I’m standing next to Emily. “I’m in the mood for a dance party. Anyone got any music?” I look at William, who rolls his eyes. Party pooper.

“No. Now be quiet and we can probably get up the ladder and down the other side of the building without issue. They’re after the alarm, not us.” Emily moves quietly down the exterior wall of the building to where the ladder is. I don’t like that. Yeah, I told her to be safe and get out of here. Not dying was implied, but I want her to fight. I want her to kill. I want to do all of those things with her, especially since I’m all wound up right now.

William carries Buddy up the ladder behind her, which is an impressive feat because that’s not exactly a dog he could fit in his pocket. He has him slung over his shoulder with one arm around him, using his free hand to climb up the ladder. Buddy’s single eye moves around frantically. Griffin follows them, kicking in the head of a rotter who tries to follow. She’s protected. Me? Well, I’m going to kill everyone and everything that could hurt us. Hurt her.

Without further hesitation, I swing Debbie around and head straight through the center of the horde. There’s so many of them that I need to add a dagger to my hand because this is too much for poor Debbie to handle on her own, though she’s a brave and strong little killing machine.

Someone curses nearby and I see Griffin fighting along with me while William holds Emily back, urging her to keep climbing when she stops to watch us. She says something to him and it looks like she’s arguing. The sight makes me grin and I almost forget to keep killing. Almost. Until a rotter stumbles into me and I need to thrust the dagger straight through the eye socket. The eyeball stays on the end of the blade when I pull it free and I’m mesmerized by the sight, turning it around to see how the sunlight glistens off the weird liquid substance attached to it. Fascinating.

Griffin grabs my arm and pulls me away, while rotters continue to pile through the entrance to the hideout. Any dregs left inside are going to be in for a treat. It’s their fault for making the shittiest alarm system. It makes me want to find the guy who programmed it that way, lecture him to the edge of sanity, and then have Debbie finish the job.

“The women,” Emily gasps out. She points at the ground where women are running out of the building and dodging rotters, weaving in and out of them until they’re through to the other side. Some of them grab knives from fallen dregs and take down a few more of them before running after their friends.

“They’re free,” William says. “We didn’t get what we came for, but at least we helped someone else.”

A few rotters turn and hobble after the running women, but then gunfire erupts from within the building, unintentionally drawing the rotters back toward the building instead. I tip my head back and let out a laugh. This is so much fun.

Emily has fire in her eyes when we meet them on the other side of the building. The area here only has a few dead stragglers. All the rest are concentrated on the other side where the alarm blares the loudest. The stragglers are easy to take out, clearing the way to where we left the car. Emily looks like she wants to say something, probably yell, but it’s not safe enough for that yet. William keeps a hand wrapped around her arm, holding her close to his body while Buddy trots along on her other side.

We reach the car and there’s one rotter passing by. It’s slow moving, dragging the stump where its foot should be along the ground. It’s following the alarm, but then turns its rotting face toward us. Decaying skin hangs from the jaw, quite a grotesque sight. I take it out with a single swing from Debbie, then stop halfway through the second swing when I see Emily looking at me. She doesn’t have the look of awe and fascination that I hoped she would. It’s something else in those deep amber eyes. Something I can’t recall ever seeing before in my life. It’s not pity, that’s a look I’ve seen more than enough times. But this one, I think it’s something closer to understanding. I’ve never seen that look aimed at me before. From anyone. My guys understand me, but not like this.

She steps up to me with the little bag tucked under one arm, and I swallow hard, not sure what to make of this proximity. It’s different from yesterday when I pulled her close to me after a rotter grabbed her leg. This is more potent.

Lifting her hand, she runs her fingers through my bloody, ragged hair, and she looks at me. She really, really looks at me. As though she’s seeing me for the first time, and she’s not even horrified by what she sees, even though she absolutely should be. If she could see me right now, and I mean really see me, then she should run away in the other direction and never look back. And I would even let her go, too. But she parts her pretty pink lips and says words that shock me to my core.

“What they were saying back there, in that room…that really got to you.” It’s not a question. She knows it’s not a question.

“Yes,” I rasp out. “It did.”

“I won’t pry, but I’m here for you.” Her fingers untangle from my hair and slide down my face until they’re cupping my cheek. I lean into her palm and raise my arm to clasp her hand with my own, holding it there, relishing in her gentle touch.

The sentiment is sweet. Her words are heavier than she might realize. Being here for me means she won’t leave, even though she tries to run from us every chance she gets, and I encouraged it. But she says that she’s here for me. Then the strangest thing happens with an organ I didn’t realize still worked. My heart skips a beat.

12

EMILY

Griffin’s eyes squeeze shut, and I’d like to think that it’s because I’m hurting him when cleaning the cut on his leg, but it’s really because I’m annoying him. Which I suppose is equally satisfying.

“I don’t understand why you can’t tell us. How are we supposed to get you back to your friend when we finally find this medicine, if you don’t tell me where to drive?”

“Correction. I’m the one taking the insulin to her. This could be so much easier if you let me take the car.” I press the bandage over his thigh and sit back on my heels in the dirt. He spreads out his legs on either side of me while I work. It’s odd, a man with so much pent up rage putting himself in such a vulnerable position to someone who would gladly hurt him to get away.

He looks at me with an eyebrow raised. “With us inside of it?”

“I mean, you could ride in the trunk. Like I did. It’s poetic.”

“That is not poetic.”

I shrug. “Whatever, then. I can bring the car back to you. Now, which direction do I go to get back to where you took me? I can figure out the rest from there.”

Griffin stands up and then reaches down and pulls me to my feet. He holds onto my arm a little longer before he lets me pull away. “You don’t even have what you’re looking for yet, and you’re already trying to leave.”

I point my finger into the air as though making a point. “Detours, man. One of these millions of detours you’ve thrown upon me has to have it somewhere. I’ll find it on my way back if I have to.”

“How long have you been searching?”

“To be honest, I’ve lost track of the days.” He raises an eyebrow, and I huff. “I left Zoey two days before you found me, but that’s only because there wasn’t anything in the surrounding area and I was getting desperate.”

Griffin steps in close enough that I have to crane my head back to look up at him. He’s a freaking tree. “You’re not going out on your own.”

“Because I’ve put you guys in enough danger already. Your lives were peaceful before you met me. I understand.” Lowering my head, I start to turn and walk away. There’s no way I can ask them for this. They’ve already risked so much. I mean, yeah, I didn’t ask them to do any of this stuff. They volunteered and forced their way into my mission, but still.

He stops me with a finger to my chin, tilting my head back again so I’m looking into his eyes.

The gentleness of his touch surprises me. It doesn’t match the emptiness in his eyes. “Because you’re not going out there on your own. If you don’t want to take your captors directly to your friend, then that’s fine. We’ll take you as far as you’ll let us, but you’re not traveling the whole way alone.”

Water collects behind my eyes at his words and I strain to not let them show. I swallow hard, not breaking eye contact, even when a fire starts low in my belly. “Deal. Can we leave right now?”

“First thing tomorrow, princess. We’ll help you continue your search, and then I’ll take you back to the place you where you tried to summon an entire city of rotters straight to you.”

I roll my eyes. “I told you. I was driving them away from where I wanted to go. That was a burner car.”

One corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk. “I know.”

“As riveting as this is to watch,” Max interrupts. “We get you to a place where you can help your friend. A place where you won’t tell us. Will you come back to us after?”

I give him a sad smile and can see the wall behind his eyes rise before hearing what I say next. “I can’t guarantee anything. The only thing I know is that I need to help my friend and each day that goes by is more time that’s running out. I have nothing planned past that.”

The wall behind his eyes hardens. “I see. Well, then, that’s fine. You can leave, and don’t worry about ever coming back.”

“Max—”

“I’m going to go get some more firewood.” Turning his back to us, he leaves the clearing. My eyes drift over to the already large pile of firewood next to all the little fires surrounding our little campsite.

“It’s not you. Well, not entirely. Something triggered him today that he needs to deal with, so he’s not handling it well. We should probably leave him be for the meantime.”

“Something those dregs said before he killed them?” I ask.

Griffin nods. “He’s been through some shit since the dead rose. It’s not my story to tell.”

“We’ve all been through some shit since the dead rose. Doesn’t give us an automatic pass to being a dick,” William says. He’s sitting so quietly by the fire that I don’t realize he’s still there until he speaks. He watches the place where Max disappeared into the trees, with a frown on his otherwise beautiful face.

“Tell me about this medicine,” Griffin says, bringing my attention back to him.

“My friend Zoey, she’s diabetic. She can do stuff to prolong her time in between needing insulin, but it’s only a temporary bandage. Especially with not always being able to choose what she eats each day. She needs it, and with the world the way it is right now…well, life-saving things like that are getting harder and harder to come by.” I look away and swallow the sob that threatens to erupt at the thought of what will happen if we can no longer find the insulin she needs.

“Doesn’t insulin need to stay cold? How are you going to travel with it?” Griffin asks.

“It’s fine if you take it out for a day. But with traveling, I’ll either need to keep it cold or travel fast.” I explain what Zoey told me when I first found out.

“She means a lot to you,” William says, his focus now on me.

“Yeah, she saved my life.” I can’t tell them about how she’s the reason I belong to a colony. We’re forbidden to talk about it. I would love to bring these guys there, to show them a better and safer place than a tent in the middle of dreg hideouts and rotter lands. But after the last time the colony allowed an outsider…I shake that thought away with a shudder. “We’ve been each other’s rocks ever since.”

“And the friend she has there with her while you’re gone? Are they the reason you can’t tell us the location?” Griffin asks, practically reading my thoughts.

“Yes. The last time we trusted an outsider, he turned on us. Stole all our supplies, including all the insulin in storage, and left the gate open for rotters to stumble in. Nearly got us killed. We only survived by pure luck. We don’t want to risk that ever happening again. It’s not only my life on the line. Otherwise, I wouldn’t care as much.”

I don’t know when William stood up, but he’s watching me intently with his pale blue eyes with their usual sorrow. “The last guy you let into your life?” His jaw clenches when I nod. “I’m really glad you’re alive, Emily.”

The sun is nearing the horizon, and Max still isn’t back. I look around, but neither Griffin nor William seem worried. Even Buddy doesn’t seem to care, napping by my feet with a full belly, his little doggy snores filling the silence.

My worry grows until I finally stand up, deciding to do something about it. William stands, too. “What are you up to?”

He’s going to follow me, I know it. They’ve both told me not to go after Max, that they’ll find him if they need to, that he needs this time to himself. But I can’t stand the nagging feeling that something could be wrong, and I don’t want them to keep me from checking to make sure. I’ve already lost friends and family. I’m not in the mood to lose any of them, too.

“I’m going to the bathroom. Give a lady some privacy?”

William nods and sits back on the ground in front of the fire, watching me over the flames. “Don’t wander off too far.”

I don’t need to walk far before I find him. I don’t know what I expected to find, but beating into the corpse of a dismembered rotter wasn’t on the list, though it’s not surprising. He still has so much energy, the way he swings around his morning star like it weighs less than paper, bloody entrails coating the ground. I take another step forward and my foot snaps a twig. Max looks up, his green eyes dark and no longer full of life.

He sees me at once and drags the morning star through the grass to wipe off the blood. “Like what you see, pet?”

“I don’t like seeing you this way.”

He stalks toward me, his movements slow and predatory, the look on his face sending a chill down my spine. I take a step back, and he takes two more. We repeat that dance until my back is against a tree, his chest pressing against mine, pinning me to the bark. “Care to elaborate?”

“You’re reckless.”

“Just having some fun. No one else will get hurt.” He raises a hand and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering when they slide down my jaw.

“You’re hurting your friends, putting them at risk. Especially with the stunt you pulled earlier when leaving the hideout. They won’t let you get yourself killed, but you might end up getting them killed.”

He laughs, the sound sending a chill down my spine. “That won’t happen, pet. They’ll leave if they need to, before there’s a chance of that happening. People always leave. It’s just how it is.”

“That’s not true.”

His eyes turn cold. “You’re leaving.”

I don’t say anything. I can’t say anything. He’s not wrong, and I hate that it’s true. Maybe if I can explain the situation to the director, Richard, I’ll be able to come back to them and bring them to the colony. But I can’t tell him that. I can’t tell any of them that, because it’s not a promise I can guarantee that I’ll be able to keep. I won’t lie to them about that, and I won’t lie to him about this. Max might hate me for leaving, but maybe he can forgive me if I come back.

When I still say nothing, Max gets closer, pressing against me so that the tree bark bites into my back, the thin material of my shirt barely enough to protect it. He raises his arm and rests it against the trunk above my head, his fingers dangling down to play with a few loose, wild strands of my hair that seem to stick out. My heart rate speeds up and I tilt my head, but he moves his to the side and licks the length of my cheek. “Mmm, you taste as delicious as you look. Tell me, pet, do you still want to run away?”

My breath comes out in a pant. “I…I don’t…” His hips press against me and I feel the hardness of his growing erection. Holy crap. That’s all him.

He uses his free hand to trail a line from my jaw, down my throat, to my collarbone. “You don’t…what, pet?”

I swallow hard. “I don’t know.” His hands press against the tree trunk on either side of my head with such roughness that pieces of bark fall to the ground at our feet. His gaze stares straight down into my soul and, for a moment, I think he can read every thought in my head.

Lowering my hand, I run my fingers down his abdomen, past the waistband of his pants to the bulge in the front, and I palm it. He leans in close with a shudder, his mouth less than an inch from mine. “Careful, now. You might make it so I won’t let you leave.”

My voice comes out in a whisper. “What would you do if I were to walk away right now?”

He closes the gap and claims my mouth, making me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. He thrusts into my grip and his hands tangle in my hair while he steals my breath and devours my mouth and, for a few blissful moments, I hope he follows through on his promise disguised as a threat.

13

GRIFFIN

She’s been gone for too long. I should have handcuffed her again. During that short time, I at least knew she was safe when doing something mundane, such as going to the bathroom. I have a hunch that wasn’t the entire truth in order to keep William from following her. Next time I’ll be there, and I’ll follow her. I’ll stand guard with my back to the tree she hides behind until she finishes. She shouldn’t have gone out there alone, especially with it getting dark like this. Sure, Max is out there, but somehow that only worries me more.

I look up at the sound of crunching leaves and breathe out a sigh of relief when I see her walking back into camp until I notice her appearance. Her hair is a disheveled mess, even more wild than it normally is, and she wraps her arms around her middle, her eyes in a daze. She shivers. It’s a small one, but that’s all I need in order to notice.

Stripping off my hoodie, I toss it to her and she wastes no time putting it on. “Good timing. I have a treat for you I swiped from the hideout.” I pull out the bag of marshmallows I’d lifted when we were looking for her medicine. It was sitting right there on the table that she nearly died on. They had no use for roasting marshmallows tonight, but we would.

A small laugh comes out of her, and it’s beautiful, though slightly pained. “I haven’t had a toasted marshmallow in a really long time. Years, probably.”

I pick up the stick I’d cleaned and sharpened and put two marshmallows on it before handing it to her. She holds it out over the fire. Not the safe distance that most people do to get that perfect golden color. No. She thrusts it straight into the heart of the flames, so it burns fast and hard. When it’s perfectly charred, she plops the first toasted marshmallow into her mouth at the same moment that Max emerges from the woods, dripping wet.

“Where you been?” William asks.

“Killed some rotters and then washed up. The area should be safer tonight.” Max doesn’t look at William, or at me. His eyes are only for Emily as he walks straight up to her, leans down, and wraps his lips around her fingers, licking it clean of the sticky marshmallow that was left behind. He licks his lips when he pulls away, a smirk on his face and his eyes blazing. “Night, pet. I’m headed inside.”

Emily looks like she’s torn between getting up or staying put. That’s odd. I’m not even finished feeding her marshmallows.

Max solves the problem for her. “You should join either Griffin or Willie.”

“It’s William,” William corrects him half-heartedly, and we both watch him disappear into his tent.

“You’re staying with me,” I say, before anyone else can say anything about it. I don’t know what’s going on between her and Max right now, but I need to keep her close to me. I brush my leg against hers and add a marshmallow onto a stick for myself before handing the bag to William.

“You can’t dictate everything I do,” Emily says in that argumentative voice of hers. She even throws in a huff. It’s adorable how she thinks she can convince me otherwise.

I fight back a smile. Bringing out the fighter in her is quickly becoming my favorite pastime. “I’m not. I’m merely keeping you alive.”

“I’ve been doing that just fine on my own.”

Thrusting the marshmallow into the fire, I decide to forego my normal perfect golden toasted color and try out Emily’s madness of a charcoal exterior. “Good. But in case you missed it, princess, you’re not on your own anymore.”

Not a single cricket chirps. The nighttime is as dead as the rest of the world. Kind of a bleak outlook, but it’s not wrong.

The inside of my tent seems brighter, though it’s not from the faint glow of the fire illuminating it from the outside. Emily lays next to me on top of the unzipped sleeping bag I laid out along with the blankets. There’s a slight chill in the air, but she seems warm enough wearing my only hoodie. Even William dug out an old pair of sweats for her to sleep in instead of her shorts, since we’d burned the dregs’ clothes that were covered in blood. They’re of course too big on her and still fall down her hips even after rolling them a few times, but they’ll do for the night. My arm is back behind me, in use as a pillow for my head since I gave Emily my only pillow to use for herself.

She lies on her back, looking up at the tent ceiling. She doesn’t know that I’m watching her; or if she does, then she doesn’t let on. This is the first time she’s been in my tent since the handcuff incident. Looking back, that was a stupid move. But it kept her here, and now she willingly stays with us. Sort of. Still, I can’t help but wander what’s going through her head. I want to know. I need to know.

“You’ve been quiet since returning from the bathroom, which took you a while. Did a raccoon bite your ass or something?”

She lets out a surprised laugh. It’s small, but it makes me smile. “What if one did? Got any vaccines?”

“We can demolish every dreg hideout in our path until we find one.”

Her small smile disappears, and I don’t understand why. Then she changes the subject. “Max took some things pretty hard today.”

“He’s still dealing.”

“You don’t help him?”

“Leaving him on his own is helping him. William and I tried in the beginning, but nothing we did ever helped. There are some things in life that you can only do on your own.”

She’s silent for a moment, thinking it over. That silent moment seems to stretch on forever. “Is that what you do when you see someone struggling? You leave them to deal with it on their own?”

“I didn’t with you.”

“Already told you. I wasn’t giving myself up for dead.”

“I know that now. Didn’t know that then. Besides, your little stunt put us at risk.”

“Didn’t think there was anyone stupid enough to run around in the city,” she deadpans. “What were you doing there, anyway?”

“Looking for supplies. Food. Weapons. We always seem to run out of something. We also didn’t think there’d be anyone stupid enough to run around in the city, much less alone.”

“Seems we surprised us both.” She chews on her lip, drawing my attention to the movement.

Something has her nervous. Before I can ask what’s bothering her, she asks another question. She’s full of questions tonight. I like that.

“How close are the three of you?”

That’s not the question I expected. She’s awfully curious about us all of a sudden. “We were friends for years, closer than brothers. Even more annoying, too.” She smiles at that. Good. “We went through everything together, but when the dead rose two hundred and…awhile ago⁠—”

“Two hundred and sixty-eight days ago.”

“What?”

“Two hundred and sixty-eight days ago. You stumbled. I helped.”

I stare at her until she looks uncomfortable, and then I keep staring. “You’ve been keeping track?”

“Ever since the day I lost my family. That’s not a day I can forget.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “In two hundred and sixty-eight days, I’ve never run into anyone else who counts them like I do.”

“Maybe you’ve been so busy pushing everyone away that you haven’t given yourself a chance to find out.”

“I don’t push people away, they push me away.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. So finish your story that I interrupted. You went through everything together, but when the dead rose two hundred and a while ago…”

One corner of my mouth curves up and I can’t help the smile that she brings me. “But when the dead rose two hundred and sixty-eight days ago, we weren’t. We each lost everything and everyone before finally finding each other again, and have been inseparable since.”

“You each lost everything…and everyone?”

I nod. “That’s right, princess. You probably have a similar story. Not just losing your family, but whatever you went through after.” Her eyes get a faraway look in them for a moment before focusing back on me. I wonder where she went just then. “We’ve all been through horrible things. Horrific, even. We understand each other, and we’ll never leave each other. Max’s wound is harsher than ours. He’s been hurt too deep in a way that he can’t forget or forgive. It’s not my place to say, but you might have noticed that he isn’t the most forthcoming with his feelings.”

“What about your feelings? What are you hiding behind your shouting and stubbornness?”

She makes me want to smile at that, but I don’t. I never expected to be lying next to a girl in my tent and talking about feelings. It’s odd, but I don’t dislike it.

“The only way I survived was by taking charge. I told you about how my whole family became infected and wound up as rotters, so it was up to me to take care of them. I had to shut off my feelings.” I pause and wait for her look of pity, but it doesn’t come. There is no judgement in her eyes, only understanding and waiting for the rest of my story.

With my free hand, I reach over and push back strands of hair that have fallen in her face. Her breath hitches.

“You know, the last time I told that story was to another group of survivors we’d crossed paths with. All the women gave me the utmost look of pity. It pissed me off, so we left, but I can’t imagine the pity they would’ve shown if they’d known Max’s and William’s stories, too. Mine is the most tame of ours.”

“I don’t pity you,” she says, her voice full of honesty.

“Thank you for that.”

“I envy you.”

“Why?” I ask, eyebrow raised.

“You could harden yourself to get things done. You didn’t let in any outsiders who you didn’t already know. You didn’t make yourself vulnerable to getting hurt…and hurting everyone else along the way.”

“The last guy you let in?” When she nods and doesn’t offer any other pieces to her puzzle, I pull my hand back, resting it on the blankets between us, and continue. “I found William first. I won’t talk about the state that he was in, but it was bad enough to where I had to take care of him as well.”

I stop talking. I don’t know why I’m telling her all of this. She understands why I’ve hardened, but what I don’t understand is why I’m opening up now. I’ve only known her a few days, and she’s leaving us soon. Maybe it’s not too late to send her over to William’s tent. This woman is dangerous.

“You’ve had to become the protector of the group. I see why you kidnapped me when you did. You were protecting your friends, and then a lone stranger who you thought needed it.”

I turn my body so I’m lying on my side, my arm still beneath my head. “You forgive me for that?”

She smiles. “Not a chance.”

“Stubborn princess.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not a princess. So, you found Max last?”

I pick at a random spot on the blanket, remembering that day. “Yes, I did. Max has abandonment issues beyond what you can imagine, and if he gets attached, then it’s even more dangerous when that person leaves.”

Something flashes in her eyes when I say that, and I realize that something is going on between them after all. I’m okay with that, though a little jealous. I’m also not okay with that, because when she leaves, then I’ll be the one to pick up his pieces again. At least this time shouldn’t be as bad, but it’ll still be dangerous.

I want to ask her more questions and give her more warnings, but then she reaches over and touches my scar, making me forget about everything swimming in my head. About how she’s slowly making my friends fall for her without intending to, and getting too close to someone who won’t stay can be more dangerous than all the dregs and rotters in the country.

Even knowing that, I still can’t seem to pull away. She’s the only person who’s ever touched my face since the day this happened. I thought I’ve been doing a good job at making myself repulsive to her. I guess I was wrong. She’s not like anyone else after all.

Her fingers trace the fading raised scar tissue down the length of my cheek, and I still beneath her touch. “Tell me about this?”

“Found myself in an encounter with a rotter that was a little too close for comfort. I barely made it out, and when I did, I ran right into a dreg. He cut my face, so I cut his throat.” I realize I’m holding my breath, waiting for the look of disgust that I’d gotten from other survivors. I can still hear their repulsion in my mind.

You killed a living person?

Why didn’t you just run away instead?

You’re infected, aren’t you?

Stay away from my family, you mongrel.

“What is it?” Her brows furrow. I don’t understand. Is she talking about my scar?

“It’s a scar, princess.” My words come out clipped.

“No, I mean, what are you thinking about? If you don’t want me touching it, then I’ll stop.”

She pulls her hand away and I stop her, wrapping my fingers around hers and placing it back on my cheek to trace the same path I’d traced countless nights before. “I was waiting to see the same look of disgust on your face that I’ve seen many times before from other survivors. They stare. They’re afraid to get too close. Then they accuse me of being infected when I’m not, even when I explain it was a dreg who did it, not a rotter.”

“Really?”

“Turns out the enemy of your enemy isn’t always your friend.”

“Is that why you don’t want to be around other people?”

“You think I don’t want to be around other people?” She nods and I sigh. “I want to be part of a survivor group more than you can understand. I want that feeling of safety, of belonging, for my friends even more than for myself. To not fend for our lives every single second of every day and night, and to know that we’re not alone in this godforsaken world. But the couple of colonies we’ve found didn’t want us. One thought I was too broken to survive with, and the other thought I would bring their deaths because I survived a knife to the face and scared their children. I wish more than anything that I wasn’t the reason those two aren’t part of a safer group.”

She caresses my cheek. “I don’t think there’s anywhere safer they could be than with you. Nobody cares about their lives or well-being more than you do, and I believe they would choose you over a group of strangers any day. Besides, not every colony is as great as it’s cracked up to be. Some can make you feel more lonely than if you were on your own.”

She sounds convinced. I know she’s only trying to be nice, and I appreciate the sentiment, even if she’s wrong. Still, it makes me wonder what she went through to believe something like that. How lonely she must have felt herself.

“Does it hurt?”

I breathe out a laugh. “Only when someone brings it up and reminds me about how hideous it is.”

“Well, I think it’s beautiful.”

Not as beautiful as you, I want to say, but I don’t. Instead, I watch her. I study every inch of her face as though it’s the last thing I’ll ever see, and I realize I am insanely jealous of whatever is growing between her and Max. At first, I thought Max was only being himself. I never expected her to get to him, but she has, and she doesn’t even realize that he’s not the only one.

As I lie here, watching her touch my face and telling me how beautiful my worst traits are, I can’t help but wonder if something could grow between us as well, if given the chance.

Too bad we’ll never get a chance to find out.

I awake to whimpering sounds. My eyes pop open and I have my knife in my hand before I realize they’re coming from inside the tent, and I remember I’m not alone. I put down the knife and move closer.

Buddy is lying over Emily’s feet and gives a little whine when I nudge him on accident. He’s trying to calm her, too. Is there something seriously wrong with her? Is she hurt?

Scenarios fly through my head, each one worse than the last. I face the woman in question, but through the faint glow of the fire from outside, all I can make out is her back. I think she might even be curled into a ball. Maybe she’s cold. I’ll give her my half of the blanket, too, if she needs it.

“Emily,” I whisper, but she only whimpers in response.

Is she too hurt to tell me she’s hurt?

“Emily.”

More whimpers. My concern skyrockets.

Reaching out, I touch her back. It’s damp. She’s sweating through the hoodie. I lay my palm flat against the middle of her back and the whimpers lessen. Hmm.

I scoot closer to her and wrap my arms around her body. The whimpers stop, but her hand clenches into a fist so tight that I’m surprised her nails haven’t punctured the soft skin of her palm yet. Concern turns to anger when I wonder what has her so worked up. This has to be some kind of nightmare, but still. A nightmare isn’t something I can protect her from.

Or maybe I can.

I hold on to her as tight as I can without hurting her, and bring my mouth close to her ear. “I’ve got you, Emily. You’re safe.” I whisper the words in her ear on repeat until her body loosens and her breath evens out. “Safe.”

After a few more minutes, she’s sleeping again. I don’t want to move in case the nightmare comes back, so I stay like this, with my body wrapped around hers and her sleeping in my arms. It’s a strange feeling, someone feeling safe enough to sleep wrapped up in my arms like this.

Pushing that thought aside, I focus on her. I want to know what happened. Need to know. Especially since some things I thought I heard her whimper were concerning. I don’t know who Richard is, but if he’s the one who hurt her, then I want to hurt him. If he’s someone she wants to see again, then I still want to hurt him.

But for now, I’m content to hold her, to feel her soft body against my hard one. And her curves, oh my, her curves, they fit perfectly against me. Oh no, think about puppies, war, famine. Okay, that’s better.

I brush hair out of her face again—it’s always falling in her face—and place a gentle kiss on the side of her neck. She lets out a hum of pleasure.

“That’s right, princess. I’ve got you.” Holding her tight, I bury my face in her hair and fall asleep, surrounded by her scent. I wonder where she found strawberry shampoo.

14

EMILY

This feeling of being safe and secure is something I could get used to if it were real. I haven’t felt this way since the dead rose. I must still be dreaming, because there’s no way I’m wrapped up in someone else’s arms. Unless Zoey got tired of sleeping alone and climbed into my bed again.

Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe the dead didn’t rise, and I wasn’t held hostage by three insanely strong and good-looking guys who risked their lives by going into a dreg’s hideout for me, for a friend of mine, someone they’d never met.

Fingertips brush against my belly. My bare belly beneath my shirt. Someone’s face rubs against the back of my neck. That’s not Zoey.

My eyes pop open. I see the inside of Griffin’s tent, filled with various weapons laid out around us. Either I’m still dreaming, or it was never a dream.

Deep-seated grief washes over me and I take a moment to compose myself while all the memories rush through me. The loss. The betrayal. The endless pain. Waking up in a trunk and then being handcuffed. Our moments before falling asleep. Why did I ask him all of those questions? It feels too personal now. Personal enough for his hand to be underneath my shirt. Not that I hate it.

Then there’s the kindness. The sacrifices. The scarce food they shared with me. My racing heart calms down. I’m disappointed it wasn’t a dream, but also relieved. I don’t understand why anyone would be relieved to wake up in a world like this, but here I am. Maybe I’m a little fucked up after all.

My body radiates with warmth, and I recognize that most of it is because of the proximity of the breathing furnace wrapped around me. I can’t decide what to do. On the one hand, I want to get up and start the day so we can get started traveling and continue the search. Wake everyone up. Maybe even be a little too noisy about it and draw in some rotters, so we’re forced to get moving. But on the other hand, I’m comfortable and I don’t want to leave. In fact, I want even more. I’m enjoying being in Griffin’s arms.

Too bad that thought is ruined when I think about Max’s kiss last night, and then the hurt when Max told me not to go to his tent after. I’m so conflicted. How can I have these sorts of feelings for more than one of them?

Griffin’s thumb brushes over my nipple, which is quickly hardening into a peak. His palm slides up my rids and squeezes my breast, and I let out a slight hum. Yes, this is nice. Maybe I’ll stay here. Only for a little while. I move a little so that his hand can brush over my nipple again.

His words come out groggy when he speaks. “I badly want to move my hand lower, and I think you might want that, too, princess.”

Mortified, I leap up. My head barely touches the top of the tent. Griffin sits up, his shirt off and his muscled torso on full display. The blanket slides down to reveal he’s wearing nothing but his boxers. I can tell how thin and worn the fabric is when I see his dick straining against it.

“What happened, and why aren’t you wearing a shirt? And where are your pants?”

“You had a nightmare that only stopped when I cuddled, but you were too hot, so I had to take off my shirt because I couldn’t let go of you without you whimpering again.”

My cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“You’re cute when you turn red, but don’t be embarrassed.”

My brain short circuits. I hate him. But also I don’t. But also I do. Maybe I don’t?

I open my mouth but nothing comes out, so I do the only logical thing that I could do in a moment like this. I run away. I shoot out of the tent so fast that I barely notice anyone else is out here.

“Good morning,” William calls out from where he’s stoking the fire. “Where are you headed?”

“Gotta pee.” I barely get out before sprinting away, ignoring the pain of the pebbles and twigs beneath my bare feet. I curse myself for not sleeping in my shoes. That’s going to be a habit I need to break. From now on, shoes are on feet at all times. No exceptions.

I find myself lost in a thick of trees and stop to catch my breath. It’s so quiet out here. No one followed me. I can’t decide if I’m relieved by that or disappointed.

What was that back there? Griffin was so different, protecting me in my sleep this morning and how he opened up last night. I saw a side to him that I didn’t want to stab in the eye. Which makes it even more confusing. Those three amazing men back there are closer than anyone I’ve ever met. What is wrong with me?

Not to mention, what would Griffin do if he found out I belong to a colony that he so desperately wants to be a part of more than anything? And I’m forced to keep that information from him. I feel like I’m going to be sick.

I press my palm against a tree and bend over. Nope, guess I’m not.

Still, no one comes after me. It’s almost flattering how trusting they are that I won’t run off. Not that I can go too far without shoes. Or Buddy. I’m never leaving that big pupper. He’s probably been through more than I have.

My bladder protests. Realizing that I wasn’t lying to William after all, I find a spot and prepare to squat. The sound of someone following me has me turning around and I let out a shriek when I see a one-armed rotter stumbling toward me over upraised roots. It pisses me off a little that he’s having an easier time walking through here with decomposing feet than I am without shoes.

Reaching for my weapon, panic runs over me when I realize it’s not there. My weapons are still sprawled out in Griffin’s tent, which I was supposed to grab when waking up. Although, the fact that I felt comfortable enough to disarm around him while I slept is the most shocking right now.

The rotter stumbles closer. I look around, but there isn’t anything to help me. I could poke it with a stick, but that’s not strong enough to do what needs to be done.

The pants that William lent me for the night fall down over my hips with how oversized they are for me. Getting an idea, I step out of them and grab each foot hole, wrapping it around the rotters’ neck and twisting until the head is severed and then drop it to the ground in triumph, which is short-lived when another one stumbles through. I don’t have the strength to keep repeating it over and over again. There has to be another option.

Deciding I’ll outrun it, I turn around, but am met with two more rotters moving even more quickly than the first. I grab a large rock at my feet and lunge it at them, but it bounces off one of their heads and doesn’t slow them down in the slightest.

They’re closing in on me. My chance for a quick getaway is gone, so I do the only thing I can think of right now. I turn around and climb the tree. Dead fingers snap when they grab at my foot and I kick them back, pulling myself up to the second branch and out of their reach.

The only thing I can do now is sit and wait. Maybe they’ll give up on me and chase after a squirrel that runs by.

I don’t know how much time passes, but my bladder wants me to get down. It’s impatient, and it’s starting to hurt. “Come on, go away already,” I mumble, but of course, the rotters don’t listen. I’m the only thing on their breakfast menu. Another rotter joins them until there are four of them snarling and hissing and snapping their jaws at me. One of them loses another tooth, it just falls out.

“You know what, fine, have it your way.” It’s not an easy feat, but I maneuver on the thick branch enough to relieve myself. I don’t aim for anything. I merely let gravity be in charge. I’m pulling my underwear back up when I hear a snap of twigs nearby. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. I’m not even enough to satisfy the four of you, let alone a horde.”

I lower my head and squeeze my eyes shut. This can’t be happening. Never have I been without a weapon on me. I’ve been caught in some shitty situations, but I’ve never been this helpless. Imagining rotters piling up below, climbing on top of each other to get up the tree, doesn’t help. I can keep climbing, and I’ll keep climbing for as long as I can. But for now, I need to breathe. Well, not too deeply. The stench rising to me is almost unbearable. It’s something I can tolerate for now, but that still might end up killing me before they can get to me.

Sounds happen below me and I keep my eyes shut, not wanting to see how many rotters have congregated to the one-woman buffet. Instead, I focus on trying to control my breathing.

“Emily?”

My eyes snap open and I look at William down below, standing there looking up at me with his face twisted in confusion and looking like an avenging angel. I think he even has a halo shining over his head. “William?”

“What are you doing up there?”

“Oh, you know, just thought it was a lovely morning to climb a tree.”

“Emily.”

I motion to the dismembered rotters strewn around his feet.

“Are you okay?” His voice is stern and laced with concern.

“I’m fine. I was cornered and couldn’t outrun them.”

He looks around on the ground. “Did you drop your weapon?”

“I forgot to grab it.”

His head snaps back up to me, his eyes narrow.

“I know, I know, it was stupid. Believe me, it won’t happen again.” I go to move off the branch I’m sitting on, but when my feet touch the branch below, it snaps off and lands on the ground with a loud thump. “Shit, sorry.” I glance down and am relieved to see that William managed to jump out of the way in time.

“Let go, Emily. I’ll catch you.”

I’m dangling from the branch high enough to know that if I land wrong, I could really hurt one of us. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can’t hurt me, Emily. I’ve got you. Trust me.”

Trust him, he says. I want to laugh. The crazy thing is that I’m starting to trust all three of them. “Okay, here I go. One, two—” the bark I’m holding onto detaches from the branch and I fall with a scream.

My arms land around his neck and my legs wrap around his waist. He catches me with ease, his arms wrapping around my back, holding me against his hard, broad chest.

“See,” he says, grinning down at me, “told you I’d catch you.”

“Thanks. Seriously, thank you. I wasn’t sure how long I would be trapped up there for.”

Covering my head, he jumps to the side and the branch I was dangling from moments ago thumps to the ground where he was standing. “Not much longer, I would say.”

“Oh, man.” I bury my face against his neck, his warm neck. I can feel the gentle thrum of his pulse against my cheek. It gradually speeds up. I can’t believe how close I came to joining the rotters. If William hadn’t come looking for me when he did…I rub my face against his throat, trying to push the thought away. He rubs small circles along my back with his thumb.

“I got you, Emily. I wouldn’t ever let you get hurt.”

“Thank you,” I say, but my voice comes out meek.

When I pull my face back, embarrassed, I can barely see him through the curtain of tousled brown hair. He chuckles before setting me down on my feet. I don’t complain when the tiny rocks and twigs dig into the skin. He raises one hand and pushes the hair back until I can see him clearly again. “That’s better.”

I pull my hair back and stuff it into the hair tie I keep on my wrist. “Much better.”

William looks down at my feet and frowns. “Where are your shoes?”

“Left them in the tent.”

“You must have really had to use the bathroom.”

“Pretty much.”

“I’ll keep watch while you do your business, then we can head back.” He looks around. Then, determining it’s safe, he walks a few feet away and turns his back.

“Um…I already went.”

“Before you were cornered?”

“Well…during.”

He glances at me over his shoulder with a look of disbelief. “You’re not joking?”

I roll my eyes. “I can announce it in the newspaper if you want. I know that’s front page news. Wait…why are you more worried about my shoes than my pants?”

He grins. “Well, considering the pants are wrapped around a rotter’s decapitated neck, I think I have a pretty good guess what happened. Though, I’m sorry I missed it.”

My cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Let’s get out of here, please.” I take a step and then wince.

William curses. “You’re not walking all the way back like that. Here.” He steps up to me and lifts me up so my legs wrap around his waist and my arms around his neck like before. We’re eye level now, and I lick the dryness of my lips and notice how his eyes dart down at the motion before meeting my gaze again.

“You can’t carry me all the way back to camp like this. What if more rotters show up?”

“I’ll fight better with you wrapped around me.”

“Use me as shield, you mean?”

He starts walking. “Absolutely not. Like I told you. I’ve got you, Emily.”

The man kneeling before me has me mesmerized. When we got back to the campsite, William had me sit down on a log while he inspected my feet. After grabbing my old pair of shorts, he’s been cleaning away the dirt they accumulated and inspecting the minor cuts and scrapes. It’s nothing serious, and he doesn’t seem concerned, but no one has ever been this focused on such a minor injury of mine before. I wouldn’t even count it as an injury, but apparently tiny cuts from the little rocks count according to him.

He’s incredibly attentive, and I could sit here all day admiring him while he works to make me feel better. The first aid kit lies open next to him while he applies ointment all over my feet before putting on my socks and then my shoes. I never want to take these shoes off again. I’ve learned the hard way what can happen.

Griffin strolls back into the campsite carrying a rabbit and a bowl of berries. He’s shirtless, with a fresh bandage on his thigh poking out from beneath his shorts, and a pang of guilt runs through me. His gaze finds me in an instant, as though he searched for me, and then zeroes in on William putting on my shoes for me. “What happened?”

“I forgot to grab my weapons when I ran out to the bathroom. And shoes, too. Got cornered by some rotters, William took care of them, and now he’s taking care of me because the ground here isn’t too friendly for bare feet,” I rush to explain while heat creeps over my cheeks.

“Don’t forget to mention the part where you took off your pants to decapitate a rotter. I don’t get all the credit for taking care of them,” William adds, turning the small fire in my cheeks into raging lava.

Griffin nods and then gets to work, preparing breakfast without a response. I don’t know what I expected his response to be, but I thought it might be…something. Anything. William glances oddly at him, but he doesn’t pry. I’m beginning to think these men can communicate telepathically. They always seem to read each other’s minds without saying a word. I don’t know how concerned I should be.

“There, good as new.” William sits back, his pale blue eyes sparkling in the early morning sun when he grins up at me.

“I’m never taking these off again,” I say.

A zipper opens, and Max emerges from his tent. He spots me in an instant. Then, as though drawn to me, he’s towering over us before I realize he’s even moved, his voice low and demanding when he speaks, his gaze zeroing in on my feet. “What happened?”

“Found her up a tree surrounded by rotters,” William replies, packing up the first aid kit. He doesn’t seem to notice the intense look in Max’s vibrant green eyes, or the swirl of darkness that passes through them. Okay, maybe I was wrong about the telepathy thing. Maybe they’re still only human after all.

“Why didn’t she just kill them?”

“I forgot to grab a knife,” I reply lamely.

“She still decapitated one with her pants,” William adds. I think he’s going to be happy telling that part of the story to everyone we come across.

Max goes silent and a chill washes through the air. Even William glances up and eyes him curiously before Max turns around and disappears back into his tent. When he reemerges, his gaze is even more intense and locked on me. I freeze in place, watching him move like a ghost toward me. Before I know it, he’s lifting my shirt. I’m caught by such surprise that I merely sit there instead of batting his hand away, but then he hooks his fingers around the fabric of my bra. I’m about to bite him when I realize it’s a small holster with a knife in it.

“I’ve been working on it for you and finally finished it last night. I had to work through the night to get it done, but I wanted to give it to you as a surprise.”

“That’s why you didn’t want me in your tent?” I whisper. I’m vaguely aware that William is watching this exchange with curiosity. I don’t know what he thinks. Heck, I don’t even know what I think. I’m beginning to realize that I don’t know anything anymore.

Max’s lips quirk up in a slanted smile. “Absolutely. It’s not a surprise if you watch me do it.”

“Could’ve given me a warning. I thought you were trying to feel me up just now.”

“If I was going to feel you up, believe me, there would be no room for doubt.”

My fingers brush against the holster before pulling out the knife and admiring it. It’s imperfect, which makes it absolutely perfect. The ridges, the smooth metal, the way the sunlight glints off the edge, revealing the sharpness. “You made this.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, pet. Wielding weapons isn’t the only thing I enjoy. Making them is almost as much fun.” He pulls out something else I didn’t realize he was holding and puts it over my head so it drops against my collarbone, falling down to rest right above my breasts.

Returning the knife to the holster and dropping my shirt down, I finger the small object before unclasping it and pulling it from the small sheath, and glance back up at him.

Max’s knuckles glide against the smooth skin of my neck while he traces the leather cord, a look of pride in his expression. “I never want you to be without a weapon again.” Then he mumbles something about now needing to make permanent shoes for me next, before walking off. I glance back at William and see him watching Max’s retreating form with the utmost curiosity.

“He makes weapons?” I ask.

“Before the dead rose, he invested his life in survivalist skills and anything sharp and pointy. Making weapons was his way of coping. Except, he’s only ever made them for me and Griffin.”

The knives look sharp, but I can’t help but wonder exactly how much. The knives I’ve had in the past were dull and I’d have to put substantial force behind them in order to kill a rotter. Holding the one from my new bra holster up to the sun with the rays flying off the smooth, pointed metal, I raise my free hand and touch my thumb to the tip.

I hiss out in pain and pull my hand away, but it gets caught in something. Someone else’s hand. With a squeal, I try to jump back, but Max holds on so I can’t. His head tilts to the side, and he watches a single drop of blood fall from the fresh wound. “What are you doing to yourself?”

“Oh, um, I wanted to see how sharp these are.”

His green eyes rise to meet mine. They’re so stunning and vibrant that I almost forget to breathe. “I would never give you a dull blade, pet.” He snaps his fingers. “In fact, I have something else for you.”

He pulls something out and I recognize it as my knife, the one that he was turning into the dirt the day I jumped out of the trunk. “My knife.”

“Mr. Pointy is now all sharp and pointy and ready for action.” We swap knives and I wrap my free hand around the familiar handle. The blade glints in the sunlight in a way that it never has before.

When I try to switch hands, I realize he’s still holding onto my wrist and the drop of blood is now falling down my thumb. “Um, can I have that back?”

Without breaking eye contact, he lifts my hand up to his mouth and pulls my thumb in between his lips, licking the blood and sucking away the sting of the cut. My heart beats harder at the intense look he’s giving me. When he frees my thumb and grins, there are spots of red staining his teeth. “Have you always been this way?”

“Only since my brother left me for dead, surrounded by rotters.”

I frown. “Wait, what? Your own brother?”

“The only family I had left until Griffin eventually found me. I almost slit his throat simply because I could. The stubborn bastard refused to give up on me, though, so now here I am wondering why I haven’t scared you away yet when I terrify everyone else I come across.”

“I don’t think you’re all that scary. A little unhinged, but not scary.”

“That’s because you haven’t crossed me yet.”

“Yet?”

He uses the hem of his shirt to wipe the knife clean. It’s almost impossible to tell where he wiped the blood off on the all black fabric. “It’s what people do. They betray each other to save their own asses.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I’ve been trying to leave them since day one. Not to save myself, though, but to save someone else. “How did you survive?”

Once he deems the knife clean enough, he holds it up to the sun. It looks as brand new as it did before I sullied it. Then he lifts my shirt and returns it into the holster and pulls my shirt down before I can even react, smoothing down the fabric as though I’m a dress up doll. “I did so by using my weapons to fight my way through the hundred or more rotters. Turns out I’m much harder to kill than my brother thought. I’m sure I’ll give him quite the surprise to still be alive if I ever see him again.”

“Do you want to? See him again, I mean.”

He chuckles and, having finished fixing my shirt, he rests his hands on my hips, holding me in place. “I would love to return the favor. He’s the reason I’m ‘slightly unhinged’. I believe that’s the phrase you used.”

My cheeks flush and I lower my gaze.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

He moves one hand underneath my chin to tilt my head up and look at him again, his green eyes blazing. “Apologize. Never apologize for things you say and do. You’ll never please everyone, you’ll only drive yourself insane trying to. I don’t care what you say about me, as long as you’re being yourself.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. Nobody should have to experience their own family turning on them like that.”

“It’s for the best. It helped me see who I can trust.”

“Can you trust me?”

He raises one hand to cup my cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. His voice lowers to a near whisper. “I don’t know yet. I don’t want to, but you make it so hard to stay away.”

15

WILLIAM

We get the campsite torn down and packed up in record time. Max mentioned an old grocery store somewhere back in the direction we came from after leaving the city, with a pharmacy that might have what Emily’s looking for, so she wasted no time tearing things apart so we could get back on the road again. She had doubts at first since the last few grocery stores and pharmacies she searched through had already been scavenged to their limit, but Max promised the last time he saw this one, it was mostly untouched, since most people only cared about the food there. Seeing Emily’s eyes light up with hope was brighter than the rising sun.

This means soon we’ll be taking Emily back to where we found her, and then waiting around to see if she ever comes back. It’s weird, finding myself not wanting to part with someone who isn’t one of my two best friends. But having her with us during this short time has made the days seem brighter. Even the nights have brightened up.

Part of me hopes this will be another dead end, but a bigger part of me hopes it isn’t, because I can’t be selfish enough to wish that failure on her friend, a stranger I may never get to meet.

Pieces of partial wood carvings fall out of the trunk and Griffin grumbles to himself when picking them up. That’s interesting. I haven’t seen him touch these in months.

I load the last tent into the car where Griffin is rearranging the mess that Max threw in there until Griffin chased him away and he ran off in the direction I saw Emily headed. “Have you noticed anything different about Max?”

Griffin remains focused on his task at hand, trying to shove every little thing into a spot regardless of whether it fits. “Maybe, but I’m not sure.”

I stare at the side of his head. He’s holding something back, alright. Now I’m wondering if something is different about Griffin, too. What’s happening to us?

“What the, where did this come from?” Griffin holds up the unopened bag of flour I’d swiped from the dreg’s hideout.

“Found it when we were stealing the medical supplies. I was in the kitchen next to that room Emily went into alone. I only grabbed this before I heard the commotion and realize she didn’t follow.”

“Why?”

“Because checking on her was more important than raiding a kitchen.”

“No, I mean why this flour?” Griffin asks, placing it into a perfectly tight spot in the trunk.

“She likes waffles. Maybe someday I can collect enough ingredients to make them.” I shrug. I should have grabbed the waffle iron too, but nothing else was important when I realized she was in trouble.

Looking back out at the empty campground, I see Emily standing near the dying flames of the firepit, adding various weapons onto her body. Buddy is at her side. He’s barely left her side since saving him. He’ll probably follow her back to wherever she’s going. At least she’ll be safer with him if we can’t be there.

“Safer with who?” Griffin’s voice catches me by surprise. I didn’t realize I was thinking out loud.

“The dog. She’ll probably take the dog with her since she won’t take us.”

“He’ll be with her for sure, but so will we.”

“She said we can’t follow.”

“I don’t care. She’s under my protection now.”

“You promised her.”

“Actually, I didn’t.” He finishes arranging things in the trunk and then moves to work on the mess that Max left in the backseat. I look over in time to see Emily taking off her hoodie. Max whistles loudly from somewhere at the edge of the clearing.

I make a mad dash. “Hold up, Emily. Don’t move.”

She freezes with her arms above her head along with the hoodie she’s pulling up. Her voice is muffled behind the heavy fabric. “Why?”

Without answering, I grab hold of the tank top that’s attached itself to the hoodie and pull it back down over her body. The compass falls down beneath the shirt, tucked between her breasts. My knuckles brush across the smooth, bare skin of her waist.

“My shirt was stuck to the hoodie, wasn’t it?”

I chuckle. “Yes, but don’t worry.”

“Everyone saw?”

“Nah, I don’t think anyone did.”

“Max whistled.”

“He probably found another knife, or cut off his finger or something else exciting like that,” I joke.

She sighs. I help her pull the hoodie all the way off. Her hair sticks up in varying directions from the static, and I can’t help but grin. Her hair is always a mess.

Dropping Griffin’s hoodie onto the ground at our feet, I tug her hair free of the hair tie and wrap it on my wrist. She looks up at me while I run my fingers through her hair to untangle it.

“Thanks for being my hero this morning. I know I’m a mess today.” She smiles up at me through the curtain of hair that’s fallen over her eyes again.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got you.” After doing the best I can with her hair, I turn her around and pull her hair back and into a loose braid before adding the hair tie. “That should do it. Ready to get going?”

“Almost. Just have to finish adding my weapons first because I won’t have a repeat of this morning.” She hooks the final two knives onto the inside of her boots—I have a feeling that Max upgraded her weapons in the brief span of this morning and gave her back the ones that taken from her—and then walks away. I follow her to the car and can’t help but think I wouldn’t mind being her hero more often.

I lean forward when Griffin slows the car down. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

“Must’ve happened after we last passed through,” Griffin mumbles. Ahead of us is nothing but broken concrete and rubble from where the overpass collapsed, blocking the way through.

Max pumps a fist into the air, slamming his fist into the roof of the car.

“Hey, don’t destroy the car unless you want to unload everything into another one yourself,” Griffin berates him.

“Guess this means you’re stuck with us, pet.”

“No, I can’t be.” Emily reaches for the door handle, not seeing her compass sliding off her lap and onto the floor at her feet when she shifts. “I’ll walk.”

The locks click and her door won’t budge when she pushes against it. She glares at Griffin, who only glares back. “You’re not going anywhere without us.”

“I will be once we get that insulin and then get back to the city.” She pushes against the door again, trying and failing to break the lock.

“Like hell you are.”

Her head snaps around to face him, shock written all over her face. “You promised.”

“I didn’t promise. I only said it was an idea. An idea that I won’t entertain.”

The color drains from her face. I understand she needs to do some things on her own, but why is she this adamant about leaving us behind? Something isn’t right. I feel like something else might be at play.

Griffin turns the car around and drives back to the last exit we passed. “We’ll take a detour.”

“You can’t do this.”

“It’s the only way around the bridge, princess.”

“No, I mean this. Do you really expect to keep me with you forever?”

He turns his gaze onto her, and I see something really interesting there. “Absolutely.”

“I’ll run.”

“Handcuffs make nice bracelets.”

“I’ll get out of them again.”

“They also work well as anklets.”

“Griffin,” I say.

“I’ll fight back.”

“Please do.”

We’re approaching countless abandoned cars. They’re not all blocking the road. There still looks to be a path winding between them, but he doesn’t see what I see.

“Griffin,” I say again, louder this time.

“You’re not leaving me unless I’m physically unable to follow.”

“I can make that work.” Emily pulls out one of her knives, and he grins at her before wrapping his hand around her wrist. He’s not watching the road at all. I unbuckle my seat belt and throw myself in between them, applying pressure on his wrist to make him let go of her.

“Watch the fucking road, man,” I growl.

“What are y—” His words cut off when the tire blows. “Shit.” The car rolls to a stop and then he gets out, slamming the door shut behind him. “Stay.”

I sit back in my seat and run my hand through my hair, forgetting that I’d put it up into a bun so I wind up making a mess of it.

“William.” Her voice is so gentle and soft that I almost think I imagined it, but still I look at her, anyway. She’s looking right at me. Well, at my arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Confused, I raise my arm and see the gash along my forearm. Blood trickles out, but it’s not life-threatening. An accidental cut, no big deal.

Max howls.

“Did you sharpen all of these?” Emily asks.

“Of course. I wanted to make sure you could properly defend yourself, though I didn’t expect it to be against Willie-boy here.”

I thump the back of my hand against his chest. “It’s William.”

“Potato grapefruit.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I argue, but it’s pointless.

“I’ll get the first aid kit.” Emily reaches over the center console to hit the button for the trunk and then unlocks the doors. I push open my door.

Bleeding or not, she won’t go out there on her own. Griffin is busy with the busted tire, and we’ve become stranded at the edge of a highway graveyard. I step out and stand by her side, pressing my arm against my side because it’s bleeding more quickly now. It’s still fine.

“Tire’s busted and we don’t have a spare.” Griffin stands up and kicks the flat tire. He shoves his hands into his hair and walks in a frustrated circle. “We used to have a spare, but then we needed to use it, and then when we found another good tire, we didn’t have time to take the spare with us before rotters were upon us. It’s a repeat of that, except this time we don’t have the damn spare.”

“And there are no rotters,” Max points out.

“Clearly.”

“So exactly like that situation. Well, only the part about having a flat tire. So it’s like any other situation,” Max adds, and I notice the growing frustration in Griffin.

I motion with my good arm at all the cars in front of ours. “There are literally dozens, if not hundreds, of cars right here. Take one of those.”

“You did this on purpose, so I can’t leave, didn’t you?” Emily asks, her voice muffled from where she’s buried halfway in the trunk, rummaging through the supplies. Griffin packed them in tight so she struggles. Max uses his hands to hold up the top of the wall of supplies so it doesn’t topple and crush her.

“What are you doing? I spent all morning organizing that.” Griffin rounds the car to see that Emily has made a mess of the trunk. What was once a carefully organized tetris of luggage and supplies is now chaos, courtesy of Emily and her sidekick Max.

“Looking for the first aid kit. I don’t know why you didn’t put it in a place that’s easier to grab, like in front.”

Griffin silently reaches around her and pulls out the kit that’s tucked in the corner right in front. “You mean like this?”

“Oh.” Emily looks over at me and I think it’s to see how I’m doing, but then her eyes widen and all she says is “Oh” again.

“What are you doing?” Griffin growls.

“Stopped the bleeding. I didn’t want to see how long I had to wait for your bickering to end before passing out from blood loss.” I wave my arm that’s covered in a makeshift bandage made from my shirt. While it wasn’t my intention, I enjoy the way Emily’s eyes move up and down my body.

She’s so distracted that she doesn’t notice the pile of partially carved wooden pieces that she knocks out of the trunk.

“Watch what you’re doing. You’re knocking everything out.”

“Shit, sorry. Wait—Griffin, what are these?” Emily holds up two pieces I recognize as some of the failed attempts from the early days of the dead rising. I look at Griffin, waiting to see what kind of response he gives her, and whether he’ll tell her the truth.

Griffin snatches them out of her hands and tosses them haphazardly into the trunk with a grunt. “It’s nothing. An old hobby that I don’t do anymore.”

“Why not?” Emily asks, looking genuinely curious.

“Because wood carving isn’t fun anymore. All it does is bring me stress rather than relieve it. Because hobbies died along with the rest of the world, and because I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“That last one isn’t an actual reason, but I get the sentiment,” Emily says.

“I’m not sure we’ll be able to get through, but there are enough cars here that I’ll be shocked if we can’t find a decent tire. Worst case, we hot wire a car,” Max calls back to us.

“Do you know how to hot wire a car?” Emily asks, pulling the first aid kit from Griffin’s hand.

“Not at all, but what better time to learn than this?” Max bends down and starts inspecting the tires.

“Why not take a car with a key in it? Few people took their keys when they abandoned them. Or died,” Emily points out. “Find a car with a rotter in the driver’s seat, and we’re good to go.”

Griffin lets out a sigh. “If we switch cars, I’ll have to reorganize all of this all over again.”

“That shouldn’t be an issue, considering Emily already messed up your beautiful work,” Max says.

Ignoring them, I move to a nearby van and climb on top of it. They’ll find a tire in no time, but it’ll be a waste to try moving forward if the path is too blocked off to get through.

“What are you doing? I haven’t patched you up yet,” Emily says, holding up the first aid kit.

“In a minute. Something isn’t right.” I squint my eyes and hold my hand against my forehead to block out the sun. The highway graveyard is larger than I realized. We might squeeze through or get around, but it wouldn’t be easy.

“Found one. Hand me that jack,” Max exclaims from below.

“Will you get down here and let me fix you up?”

I tune everyone out and focus on the small movement I thought I saw up ahead. Maybe it was a bird that’s long gone. Maybe it wasn’t anything. Still, I wait.

Then I see it. The sullen, rotting face. It creeps through the wreckage. It wouldn’t be a big deal if it weren’t for the one following. And then the one after that. Shit. “Everyone needs to get somewhere safe. Now.”

“What do you see?” Griffin stops halfway through working to get the flat tire off and he stands up and looks ahead, but he can’t see what I see.

Max stands with a grin and pulls his morning star from his back. “Dregs or rotters? Let it be rotters, they’re more fun. Although I could use the challenge with a good strong dreg. Is it both?”

Emily turns around in circles, clutching the kit to her chest while trying to find the threat, but it’ll be too late by the time she can see it. We’re all spread out too much, and the rotters are getting closer with each passing second. And there are a lot of them. Holy shit.

“You guys get down, or up, whatever. Emily, climb up here.” I indicate the ladder on the side of the van that I climbed up.

She turns to the van, looks up at me, and I can see the fear in her eyes. She tosses up the first aid kit and I could lecture her for wasting precious moments that she could have been climbing instead of still worrying about me, but I catch it and then drop it by my feet before focusing on her again.

Griffin and Max have hidden beneath the cars they were beside, but Emily is the only one still vulnerable. I motion for her to get inside of the van, but she looks up at me and then climbs. When she reaches the top, the ladder breaks apart from the van and before I can grab her, she falls to the ground, landing on her back. I let out a curse and look toward the herd of rotters. Some of them hear the noise and turn their attention our way.

16

EMILY

Pushing out from beneath the heavy metal ladder, I slide underneath the large van. I would much rather be on top of it with William, but my luck isn’t working out that way today. I should have listened to him and gotten inside of the van instead. Being on the ground like this makes me feel far too vulnerable, and I don’t like that feeling. Like when I was stuck in the tree without a weapon. Or when I tried to escape during my first night with them and Max pushed me toward the rotters. And the night when that asshole stole our supplies and let the rotters in after I’d cried myself to sleep beneath the willow tree. No matter how many close encounters I survive, it never gets easier.

The sounds of shoes scraping along the asphalt get louder and I hurry to get myself hidden and out of their way. My foot is the last part of me to get free, and the ladder clangs against the ground when it does. Some scuffles pause and change direction, getting closer. After letting out a brief curse, I cover my mouth with one hand, afraid to so much as breathe.

My heart pounds in my chest so hard it hurts. Knives of varying size and sharpness cover my body, but I can only fight off so many at once. I hope it won’t have to come to that. I can’t even outrun them. I’m trapped.

Dirty shoes and muddy, graying bare feet come into view. Most of them keep scuffling along, but a few show interest in the van, pressing against it. I remain as quiet as I can manage and pray to whatever gods are listening that they keep moving.

The more rotters that pass by, the better. It’s a lot. Like a lot, a lot. Feels sort of like I’ve been dropped into the city. Almost. Cities have a lot more, but I’ve rarely seen them move through the world in a herd like this. It panics me, because I know from experience that if one of them gets a whiff of something living, then the others will know.

The herd is slowly passing by when one of them bumps into another that seems to paw at the van and gets knocked to the ground. A graying face with patches of missing flesh winds up being eye level with me, and I press my hand harder against my mouth to keep from crying out.

This rotter only has one eye because the second eye popped out of its head on impact and rolled over to me, landing barely an inch away. I want to vomit. Instead, I swallow it down with a small accidental cough. Oh no.

The rotter reaches out for me and I slide away, straight into the legs of another that’s standing on the other side of the van. Two rotters tumble down on top of me and I reach for the only thing I can grab: the knife necklace. Pulling it free from the chain, I shove it through the neck of one rotter, and then the other, putting enough force behind it to sever the spinal cords. It doesn’t take as much as it normally would, and I silently thank Max for his sharpening skill. The corpses fall on top of me and I think it might be over, until dead fingers scratch at my legs, and then pulling on my hair. I’m surrounded.

A scream erupts from me. I’m done for. Buried beneath a pile of rotters with no way out and no way to reach my weapons. I try, but the corpses on top of me are blocking me from them. The weight of them pinning my hands and arms so I can’t reach for any of the other weapons that I’m covered in. All I can do is swing my necklace knife around in a small circular space to buy myself as much time as possible.

The weight of the rotters piling on top of me gets heavier. I struggle for air as they crush my lungs. Their writhing bodies pile on more. I don’t even care about the stench; I need air. Closing my eyes against the gnashing teeth, I stab more, harder, in every direction I can manage.

A tear runs down my cheek, and my hope diminishes.

The weight on top of me lessens, and air fills my lungs. I suck in a deep breath. Rotten air never tasted so good.

I open my eyes and see Griffin looking down at me in a fit of rage and bewilderment. He looks like a madman, tossing corpses around like rag dolls, his hands covered in blood while he does so.

William is on the ground nearby, his bloodied shirt trampled on the ground and his bleeding arm held upright. He whistles and shouts to get the rotters’ attention and then runs to draw them away. All I can do is to be angry that he hasn’t fixed himself up yet. I even threw him the first aid kit before this mess happened. Almost as though I risked my life to get him that kit for nothing.

Griffin reaches down and pulls me to my feet. He screams in my face, but I can’t understand him through the ringing in my ears. My heart hasn’t calmed down yet. If anything, it’s beating even faster. Harder. He pushes me up against the van and grabs the head of the nearest rotter, twisting hard and severing the spine. It drops to a heap with the others.

He opens the door of the van and pushes me inside before climbing in after me. Before the door closes, I see his knife on the ground nearby. What’s it doing over there? He needs it with him. I can’t believe he left it out there. He turns to face me again and he winces. He’s hurt. My panic rises even more.

“Were you bit?” I strain to hear him through the ringing, so I keep repeating my question. I can’t even hear the question myself, but I can’t stop asking it, not until I get an answer.

His hands appear on either side of my face. His eyes are wide, gray and empty, like the souls outside this van. His lips move. I try to explain, to shake my head, but he holds me still, pulling me in until our foreheads are touching together.

The ringing clears a moment later, and I can hear our heavy breathing. “I can hear again.”

“Thank fuck. You scared me.” He tilts his head up and his lips brush against my forehead before pulling away.

I study his face, looking him over as best as I can at the moment. “Were you bit?”

He shakes his head. “No, were you?”

“No. But you’re hurt.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Cut myself getting out from underneath that damn car to get to you. It’s no big deal.” He staggers forward and falls onto the seat next to me, his gaze latched onto my face. Then his expression turns dark. Angry. “What the hell were you doing?”

Rotters pile up outside the door. The van groans beneath the weight of them as they push, trying to get in. “We need to get out.”

He pushes me down against the seat and lies on top of me. It’s not a crushing feeling like with the rotters. It feels surprisingly safe and protective. He places a hand over my mouth and presses a finger to his lips to indicate silence. But it doesn’t matter. They’ve heard us. They’ve smelled us. They know there are living people in here that need to be torn apart and infected.

The van tilts. There are so many rotters piling up outside that they’re going to push us onto our side. Roll us over and over again until we’re dead, too. We need to get off the seat and to the other side, or we’re going to be hurt when it tips over. I shift to pull his hand away from my mouth when my fingers brush against something wet on his side. I raise them to the light streaming in through the windows and see the sticky red liquid coating them. He presses his palm harder against my mouth to keep from telling him how injured he really is.

Griffin lowers his mouth to whisper in my ear. “It can be dealt with later, princess. Right now, we need to be as quiet as possible and hope they go away.”

My hand falls back down to his side and I press my palm against the wound to apply pressure. He lowers his head and groans against my neck. My other hand lifts to rest on his back and I grasp his shirt, holding onto him as tight as I can.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is so low and muffled that I’m not sure I heard him right. “I’m sorry I forced you to stay with a monster like me when you could have been back with your friend by now.”

The moans outside the van multiply. The van rocks harder and every second gets us closer to tipping over. I look behind me and there are rotters outside the window there, too. They’re everywhere. We’re surrounded. Even if we do tip over, we won’t be able to climb out of the top. At least they can’t get to us in here…for now.

Griffin’s hold on me loosens as his strength wanes. I hold my hand against his wound as hard as I can and hope the bleeding has stopped. I can’t move, and I can’t look down to check. All I can do is close my eyes and hope for a miracle.

Music blasts from somewhere far away and the van falls back down onto four wheels again. My eyes pop open. The rotters that were pressing against the van move away toward the sound.

“Come on out and dance for me, pet!” Max’s voice rings out, filled with laughter. Griffin’s hand falls away from my mouth.

“He did it. Max got them to go away.” I push against Griffin, but he doesn’t budge. “Griffin?”

He doesn’t answer me. I push against him as much as I can until I’m able to slide out from beneath him. Holding his face between my hands, one of which is covered in his blood, I lean in close. His eyes are closed and he looks like he’s asleep.

“Griffin, answer me,” I urge.

I look out the windows. The rotters are gone now, chasing the music that Max put on. He probably found a working car radio somewhere down the road. Griffin isn’t at risk of getting infected and his friends will come for him soon. The path for me to flee is wide open. After all, isn’t that what he’d said? That whole you’re not leaving me unless I’m physically unable to follow crap he’d spouted not long ago. But this isn’t what I had in mind. I was thinking more in terms of locking him in the trunk while I drove away. I can’t leave him after what he did. Not now. Not after there’s a chance he could die, all because he exposed himself to save me.

Laying his head back onto the seat, I press two fingers against his neck. There’s a faint, but steady thrum of his pulse. He’ll be fine, but not without help.

I stand and look at him, lying there on the seat so helpless, one whole side of his shirt now stained with blood. I mutter a curse and climb on the seats to pull myself up onto the roof of the van.

The first aid kit I’d thrown up to William is still up here, still unopened. I look out in the direction he ran, but I don’t see him. Worry gnaws at me, but I can only worry so much in a single moment, and right now I need to deal with the only thing I’m able to. So I reach out, grab it, and drop back down into the van, ignoring when Max calls out to me.

I tear through the kit and then cut open Griffin’s shirt to expose the wound. Blood coats his skin like a macabre painting. There’s so much blood. I scramble around the van, searching through everything until I find an unopened bottle of water. I try to twist off the cap, but I can’t get any friction with how slick my hands are from the blood. There’s so much blood.

The door crashes open with such force that I’m surprised it doesn’t tear clean off, and William stands outside looking like a blood-covered shirtless savior. Why is everyone covered in blood right now? Oh, yeah, that’s right, he’s hurt too. Everyone’s getting hurt because of me. Blood drips from the cut on his arm, but he does nothing about that. Instead, his eyes zero in on my hands.

“How bad is it?” His concern is misplaced.

“I’m not bit.”

Relief floods his face, and he grabs the edge of the door before pulling himself inside. Buddy dashes in behind him. I’m thankful he let him out of the car. “Let me look at your hands. Where does it hurt—” He sees Griffin passed out on the couch and then drops to his knees at his side, running his hands over his body. He sees the wound on his side. “Is he⁠—”

“No, he’s not. At least, I don’t think so. He said he cut himself on something when he was getting out from underneath the car to get to me.” I wipe my hands on my pants leg, then try opening the bottle again. I don’t have a rag, so I hold my knife to the bottom of my shirt and cut off enough fabric to use as a rag, then douse it in water.

William makes space for me to kneel beside him, and I clean Griffin’s wound. I wipe away the blood from around it in order to see what I’m working with. I hope it’s not as bad as I fear. “We can’t stay here. That music drove them away, but it’ll only draw in more of them from farther out.”

“I know, but he’s in no position to move right now. And look at you, I still need to patch you up, too. You’re both a mess.”

William rummages through the first aid kit, avoiding my eyes. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

He snorts. “I’m in much better shape than Griffin is, at least.”

“Doesn’t mean you still won’t bleed out on me. I can’t hold off all the rotters with both of you passed out from blood loss and open wounds.”

“You’ve got Max out there.”

“He’s probably too busy playing.” Now that the wound is as clean as I can get it, I hold the rag against it and look up at William. “He’s fine out there on his own, isn’t he? I don’t think he realizes that the two of you are down.”

“One of us is down, and it’s not me.” He uses a second water bottle to clean off his arm and show me the cut. It doesn’t look as bad as I feared, but it’s still an open wound. Get some rotter blood mixed in there and he’ll be a goner in no time. I can’t lose both of them, too.

“Do you think you’ll need stitches?”

William nods toward Griffin. “Stitch him up first and then we’ll see what we have left to work with. I can get away with none, but I don’t think he can.”

Footsteps sound from outside, and we both pause what we’re doing and look at each other, neither of us daring to make a sound. When the door flies open, I jump and lose my footing before landing in William’s lap, my hands still holding the cloth to Griffin’s wound. William’s good arm wraps around my waist, holding me against him, while his other hand brandishes a knife out in front of us.

“You didn’t want to invite ‘ole Maxy to the party? I even played music for you.” The hurt in his expression fades when he sees Griffin lying on the seat. “Is he…”

“No, he’ll be fine. It’s a cut. A deep one, but once I stitch it up, he should be alright.”

Max glances over his shoulder. “Think you can stitch him up in about fifteen seconds?”

William’s arm turns to steel around me, his voice low and threatening. “Why?”

“See, the rotters destroyed that car. No more music. It also drew in a whole dead party dance club, so now we have to get out of here and we don’t have a car, unless someone has finally learned how to hot-wire one.” He rushes over to the driver’s seat of the van and then curses when he can’t find a key.

William curses and lets me go. “Grab the kit and any water or other supplies you can grab.”

“We can’t just leave Griffin here.”

He bends down and scoops up Griffin like the large muscular man weighs nothing. “I’ve got him. Stay in front of me. Max, you lead the way, head for the trees.”

Max salutes William before grabbing my wrist and pulling me out of the van behind him. I barely snatch up the first aid kit first. Rotters are everywhere, the sight nearly enough to freeze me in place if I wasn’t being dragged away.

We move quickly and silently, keeping low and out of sight while weaving between cars until we can make a beeline for some tree coverage. There’s a small town on the other side which we have to step over a pile of rotters to get to. I assume the ones that William lead away from the van before coming back for us.

A rotter pops out at us from the side and I swing my knife around, stabbing it through the skull. It falls to the ground as quickly as it had appeared. Max winks at me before swinging his morning star in a circle through the air in front of him and moving toward the town. There isn’t a single other rotter in sight. At least not now.

Griffin, looking so helpless lying on top of an abandoned general store counter, is something I wouldn’t have minded seeing several days ago. But now, I hate it. I wanted to get away from him so badly, from all of them, but now I can’t imagine walking away while any of them are in such awful shape.

He still hasn’t woken up. William carried him all the way to this little abandoned town, and he was out like a light the whole time.

“I’ve only ever seen this many rotters on the outskirts of cities before. I didn’t even know they could travel in herds like that.” William sets down an armful of bottles on the counter behind Griffin’s head. He scoured the store for supplies—especially pain killers—while I worked on stitching up Griffin’s side.

“How’s your arm?” I ask while I lay out the supplies I’ll need.

He holds up his arm to show me the horrible bandage job he did. He’d grabbed a random shirt on the ground and wrapped it around his arm before doing a lap around the exterior of the general store to make sure there were no rotters lurking about. “I’ll go gather some more. I don’t know what all we’ll need, but we’re not leaving anything behind.”

“Sit.” When he does nothing but raise an eyebrow at me, I place both my hands on his shoulders—which is impressive considering he’s at least a foot taller than me—and push him down until he’s sitting on the small rickety stool that groans. I suck in a breath and wait for the stool to fall apart beneath his vast frame, but it doesn’t.

“Don’t worry about me, Emily. Griffin needs taken care of first.” I barely hear his words. His shoulders are so broad, his chest so defined. His knees open up, drawing me in between his thighs. My palm slides down to his peck, beneath which his heart beats forcefully.

“He’s stable. His pulse is strong.” I look into his pale blue eyes that seem to light up when they look at me. “Can I trust you to stay put while I stitch him up, and then I’ll take care of you?”

One corner of his mouth quirks up. “Stitch him up, Em. I can bandage myself. Don’t worry about more than you need to right now.”

“I worry about everyone. It’s what I do.” Pushing away from his intoxicating closeness, I turn around and get to work, threading a needle. Max is outside digging holes to build fires in, as a barrier to keep the rotters out, so I know we’re safe in here for the time being. Though I can’t help but worry about Max out there alone. Not that any of us can go help him. I could, but not until I patch up Griffin. Asshole as he is, I still don’t want him to die.

As if summoned by the thought, Max shouts out. I lift my head to look out the window and smile when I see Max chasing Buddy around with a stick hanging out of his mouth. When Max finally gets the stick back, he tosses it into the hole and kneels down to get a fire started, but then Buddy takes another stick out and runs with sparks from the stick, shooting out behind him. Max curses and chases him again.

“Everyone, huh?” William asks, and I pull myself from the sight and continue my work.

“Yup.”

“Even those who hold you hostage and keep you from your friends?”

“Well, when you say it like that.”

“We never wanted to keep you from them, Emily. We only wanted to help you.”

I begin the stitching. “And you have nothing better to do than to escort me through rotter lands and dreg hideouts?”

“Actually, no. We literally have nothing better. Even this is more exciting than sitting around with my friends and waiting to die.”

I glance up at him over Griffin’s chest. “You seemed to have a pretty nice setup from my point of view. A small close-knit group of friends willing to do anything for each other.”

“You’re not wrong, but all the rotters and dregs we’ve fought have become mind-numbingly dull. We’ve gone through the motions for months now, keeping each other safe and alive. We’ve survived, but it was a long time before something more exciting danced into our lives.”

My stomach flips and I continue stitching. I’m almost done now. Oh no, I stabbed him in the wrong spot. I glance at Griffin’s peaceful, sleeping face. He’ll never know.

“I can’t speak for them, but I know that’s why I didn’t want to let you go so easily.”

“Didn’t?” I repeat the word, noticing how he used it in the past tense.

“Seeing you struggling with that many rotters piled up on you all because we wouldn’t let you leave us, it made me realize that I’d rather let you go than force you into an early grave. So if you want to leave before Griffin wakes up, I won’t stop you.”

I pause and meet his gaze again. I’m only two stitches away from being finished. “What about Max?”

“He won’t stop you, either. I’ll make sure of it.”

“How?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

I finish up the final two stitches, tie it off, and cut the thread. “I don’t know how you can expect me to leave you on your own to take care of your friend when you can’t even let me patch up your arm.”

He raises his arm with a grin to show me the bandage he’d done while I was busy stitching. “This isn’t my first rodeo, Em. I’ve had more important people to take care of first.”

“You know how on airplanes they tell you to put on your own oxygen mask first before helping others? There’s a reason for that.” I clean up the mess before repacking the first aid kit to include some of the fresh supplies William brought over. It’s stuffed to the max. We’ll be taking this with us for sure.

“I’m not much of a rule follower.”

“You follow Griffin’s rules.”

“He’s earned that from me.”

I sigh and lean forward on the counter, dropping my head down to my forearms. The stool creaks when William stands and a few moments later he’s pushing on me to stand up. “What are you doing?”

“There’s a room with a couch back here. You should rest.”

“There’s no time for rest.” When I sit down on the couch, I notice a small pile of water bottles and some fresh clean rags perfectly folded in a pile.

William kneels down in front of me and wets a rag before holding it up to my face. He starts at my cheeks and slowly wipes away the dirt and dried blood that I’m covered in, but isn’t mine. “At least let me clean you up before you leave.”

I smile down at him, his dark hair a mess that falls just above his pale blue eyes that study every inch of my skin as he wipes away the grime. I’m not going to leave them right now. Not like this. Not today. “Why are you so good to me when the world has become so cruel?”

“You’re not part of the cruel world. If you were, then you would’ve left Griffin for dead and ran to save yourself. You took care of Griffin. Now let me take care of you.” He grabs a new rag, wets it, and uses one hand to hold my hair back while he uses his other hand to wipe down my neck.

“We can’t leave Griffin out there alone. I didn’t do all that stitching just to bait him for rotters.”

“Max and Buddy are out there guarding the place, and I’m right here. No one, and nothing, is getting in here. You’re as safe as can be.”

He wipes down my collarbone, moving the rag down to get the top of my chest, and then hesitates. I see the moment he sucks in his breath. Then he wets the rag again and starts at my stomach where I tore off the bottom half of my shirt.

Once my stomach and lower back are clean, he grabs a fresh rag and starts at my hands, then moves up my arms to my shoulders until my shirt stops him. “It’ll be pointless to do all of this and not do it right,” I say before lifting what’s left of my shirt over my head.

William says nothing. He runs the wet rag over my ribs and I shudder beneath the chill. “You okay?”

“Water’s cold,” I say, my voice low.

He leans in and I drape my arms over his shoulders. I don’t know why I do it, other than it feels right. “I’ll keep you warm, Em.”

He moves the rag to my breasts, gently wiping across the exposed skin to the edge of my bra. His Adam’s apple bobs. “We seem to have reached another barrier.”

“What do you think we should do about that?” I whisper, my voice growing thick.

With his other hand, he reaches behind me and unhooks my bra in one swift motion, then lowers one strap down my arm. His mouth places a fervent kiss on my shoulder. Heat shoots through me. “Told you I’d warm you up,” he says before placing the cool, wet rag against my nipple.

Once he’s cleaned away the last of the dirt on my breasts, he moves the rag down my abdomen, ever so slowly. My core clenches. His mouth moves down to my breasts, his lips trailing a heated path along my skin. I arch into his mouth. “William,” I whisper.

“I’ll stop if you want me to.” He kisses each breast, and when I don’t answer, he kisses a trail up my body, then my throat, until he’s hovering over my lips. “Tell me stop, Em.” His voice sounds pained. When I still say nothing, he cups my jaw with his hand, tilting my head up. “Tell me you want this.”

“I…I want you, William. Please.”

His lips slam down on mine, his kiss so forceful, so hungry, that all thoughts escape my mind. All I can think about is him. How his large frame wraps around mine, how his strong arm bands around my back, lifting me up only to lay me down along the couch without breaking contact.

He pushes my legs apart with his knee and settles between my thighs, laying down on top of me and making love to my mouth.

My fingers curl against his back and slide down the hard muscles while his own fingers curl into my hair, tugging gently. I lift one knee and rub it along his side. He responds by pushing down against me, his hips adding a slight pressure that makes me crave more.

When he pulls away, I whimper. I’m not ready to be done. I want more. I crave more.

He smiles down at me with a drunken look on his face and runs a fingertip along my cheekbone. “You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?”

“I don’t even have all my clothes off,” I breathe out.

He looks at me with that drunken look, in a way that no man before has ever looked at me before. There’s more than pure lust in his gaze. It’s animalistic. It’s hungry. It’s William. “You could wear four pairs of sweatpants and a fucking parka and you’d still be the most beautiful woman alive.”

I buck my hips against him and reach up to pull him back down, sealing my mouth over his. “I love your words, but I’m not ready to stop kissing you yet.”

His hand buries into my hair again. “I won’t stop kissing you until the moment you walk away.”

His words are like an ice bucket. I push my palms against his chest and he raises up, a confused look on his beautiful face. “Is something wrong?”

I sit up and pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs. “Em, I’m so sorry. I got carried away. I can fix this.”

Shaking my head, I let out a laugh. “That’s all I am? A quickie and then you’ll send me packing? I’m not opposed to it or anything. It’s not like we’ve got many options, but at least be honest with me.”

He looks absolutely bewildered. “No, not at all. I just mean that I know you have to go and when that time comes, we can’t follow, so I won’t hold you back. But that doesn’t mean that I won’t savor every moment I can get with you and then hope that you’ll come back.”

He reaches out and lifts my chin up to look at him. “You dancing into my life is the second best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“What’s the first?”

“Finding Griffin, but that’s only because he got to me before you did.”

“I don’t want to leave you guys. I really don’t.”

“Then don’t.”

“I don’t have a choice,” I whisper, the pain I feel bleeding out through my words. The worst of it is that I can’t even tell him why.

“Everyone has a choice.”

I let out a strangled laugh. “Yeah? What do you choose?”

He leans in and places a gentle kiss on my lips. “You, Em. I choose you. No matter how many times you run away, I still choose you.”

Reaching behind his head, I pull him toward me again. I need him closer. I’m a puddle in his arms that needs to grow into an ocean.

I unbutton my jeans and guide his hand down my pants, beneath my panties, gasping when he cups my core. He presses his palms against my clit and slides a finger inside while my own fingers curl around his shoulders.

“You feel so good. I slide right in,” he groans out against my mouth.

My back arches, and he doesn’t stop kissing me. Not when he adds a second finger, not when he finds my bundle of nerves inside of me, and not when he strokes me through my orgasm.

I always thought the next time I do something like this, it would be fast and dirty with a stranger I didn’t care about. With someone just passing through, and then I’d be gone before we could learn names. Instead, I somehow found the most attentive man alive who makes me feel beautiful even when I’m covered in someone else’s blood, and he’s fast becoming someone I don’t want to turn my back on.

But my colony will never accept new people, not so soon after we were so deeply betrayed. They’ll kill them all on sight, and then probably kill me, too. I can’t bring them back, no matter how badly I want to. It’s for their own safety.

How am I supposed to still walk away?

17

MAX

Smoke billows into the air when I add more fuel to the fires before sitting on the ground next to Buddy. We’re in front of the closest to the general store, and Buddy stares into it with a sad face, as though I’m burning his favorite stick. Which I am, but only because he decided that every stick is his favorite stick.

“Hey, Buddy, cheer up. Look, I’ve got you something.” He looks up at me with his one eye and a little tail wag. We’ll never know what happened to his eye, but I think I like him all the more for it. I rub his head. “We’re both missing pieces, aren’t we? Yours is just a little more visual.”

He nuzzles my hand when I drop it from his head, but then perks up when I pull out a stick I was hiding in the tall grass off to the side. It’s a large stick. A very, very large stick. He shoots to his paws, picks it up in his mouth, and runs in circles around the fire with it, his tail turning into a deadly force. His tail, combined with the stick that’s longer than his body, makes him the most deadly dog on the planet. I should probably fear that he might try to lick me to death.

Once he’s done showing off his prize, he lays back down next to the fire and chomps on the end of the stick while I stoke the fire some more. I have a nice little meal of soup and beans ready to heat up when Emily and William are finished playing with each other.

“That’s right, boy, it’s almost mealtime.” I run my hand across Buddy’s head and then his back. He stayed out here and stood guard while they were inside tending to Griffin. It wasn’t easy seeing him so out of it like that. He still hasn’t woken up, either. I wish I knew how long he could be out before I had to worry. He’ll be alright, though. He always is. The man is too strong and stubborn to die from a single cut, no matter how deep.

The door opens behind me, but I don’t turn around. I keep poking the flames with a stick that pales so much compared to Buddy’s staff. It’s fun to play with fire. “Welcome to Cafe de Max. Please have a seat and if you’re hungry, you can make your own damn food.”

“Are you mad?” The voice is so sweet, I can’t help but chuckle. It’s cute how she thinks I could ever be mad at her.

“Not at all. Come over here, pet. I’ve saved you a seat.” I scoot over to make space between me and Buddy, but Buddy trots off to find the perfect spot of grass to use as a toilet, so William takes his spot.

“Where did you find this? I didn’t see any food left inside,” William asks, eyeing the few cans in front of us.

I open the cans and pour the contents into the two pots I’d acquired, and then place them on the makeshift grill I’d stationed over the flames. I’ve been busy while they were busy. “There are a ton of cans in that drugstore over there. Also, a lot of bread and baked goods.”

“Baked goods?” Emily’s eyes widen and I think her mouth even waters.

“They’re more mold than actual baked goods at this point. I used some of it for the fires.”

“You went running around this town on your own?”

“Well, you see, Willie boy. I went to see if you wanted to go with me, but you were a little preoccupied.”

Emily’s cheeks turn beat red, and I smile. Her changing face colors amuse me so. I want to see all of her colors. Every single one that I can get out of her. So I hook my arm through hers and pull her closer to me. I could have so much fun seeing how bright of a red she can get to, but I don’t want to. I can tell it bothers her. Wow, that’s strange. I have no idea when I started to care about what bothers other people. That’s an annoying feeling to have.

Deciding she could use a change of subject—Emily, not Willie, he always deserves my wrath of an uncomfortable situation—I do exactly that. “Get Griffin all stitched up all right?”

Her face slowly turns back to a normal color. I can actually see that, since she’s no longer covered in all that dirt and blood. Even William has cleaned up some. At least he finally got his arm bandaged up. I was thinking I would have to sit on him while Emily worked her healing magic. “He’s still stable. His pulse is steady, his wound is clean and stitched up, now we’re letting him rest and waiting for him to wake up. I don’t know what he cut himself on, but it was a clean cut, and deep. He’s lucky it didn’t do more damage.”

“We moved the couch into the front of the store and laid him down on it. Figured he’d be more comfortable there than on a hard countertop,” William adds.

“I didn’t realize there was a couch in there.”

“There’s an office in the back. Also, a chair back there, but we figured it would be best to move the couch closer to us, rather than to move Grif farther away,” William says.

“Good thinking. Don’t want him waking up in a strange room wondering if we all abandoned him.” My voice is rough. Being abandoned by your own family is the worst. My brother is such an asshole.

“You okay there?” Emily asks, her voice so sweet.

“Yeah. Thinking about all the ways I’d like to kill my brother if I ever see him again. Grudges can be fun like that.”

Nobody talks after that. The food is ready and we have to wait for it to cool down before eating it, which turns out to be a mess since, while I found some bowls, there were no other eating utensils. We set aside a portion for Griffin.

We eat in silence, occupied by our own thoughts, and I know I’m not the only one with wretched thoughts. We’ve all been through a lot these last few days. I’m sure Emily could tell us exactly how many days. She’s been counting them like Griffin has. I used to find that quality of his annoying. Who wants to be reminded constantly about how long it has been since the worst days of our lives? But with Emily, I find it endearing. I could listen to her counting days for as long as she wants to count them.

“Did I see Buddy running with fire earlier?” Emily asks, breaking the silence.

I look over at her and grin. So she was watching me through the window. I thought so. “He was.”

When I don’t elaborate, she pushes. “Care to give the rest of the story there?”

I chuckle. “Don’t worry, pet, I had it all under control.”

“Not from where I was standing.”

“Exactly how long were you watching me?” I waggle my eyebrows and she blushes. “Red is a beautiful color on you. Is it blood? Is it embarrassment? We may never know.”

“It’s embarrassment,” Emily says in a flat tone.

“Don’t be embarrassed, pet. I watch you, too.”

“I’m going to go find a latrine.” Emily grabs the small shovel I used to dig the holes for the fires and disappears around the side of the building.

William slides over, taking her vacated spot next to me. “I need you to keep an eye on her while I head out.”

I turn my head to look at him. This is going to be interesting. “Yeah? Where ya heading?”

“Back to the highway to see if the rotters have moved on. I want to see if I can grab a few things from the car, and I’d like to do it before it gets dark.”

“What if they haven’t moved on?”

“Then I guess I’ll come back here.”

“And you don’t want Emily to know because she won’t let you go on your own. Yet you think I’ll let you wander off to an area filled with rotters, where we nearly lost half our group.”

“That pretty much sums it up.”

“Yeah, I’ll watch her. Not that you need to ask. I know we’re both well aware that none of us has stopped watching her since the day Griffin handcuffed her.”

He gives me a knowing look, but neither of us elaborates. We’ve been in this situation before. We all shared a woman once. It was right after the dead rose. Didn’t go so well. She sucked our lives from us more than the dead ever could. We were about to cut ties with her when we found a small colony of people who turned away Griffin because they were skeptical about the cut on his face, but that chick—don’t remember her name anymore, and don’t care—stayed with them. Well, we sort of abandoned her there, but she was happy to stay. She’s probably still there, making them as miserable as she made us. That thought gives me a smile.

Emily’s not like that, though. She breathed life into us. We were suffocating, and we didn’t even know it until we found her.

I nod in the direction Emily disappeared, not liking her being out of sight. I’m tempted to follow her when Buddy trots off in the same direction she went. She’ll be protected now. At least she’s wearing shoes and has weapons on her this time. “You might want to hurry up and get going before she comes back. I’ll figure out something to tell her.”

He dips his head in thanks and then takes off toward the highway. I’m not stupid. I know the exact items he’s going out to search for. The one thing that we won’t find in this small abandoned town.

The sound of leaves crunching gets closer as someone walks around the side of the building. I reach back for Debbie, just in case, but when Emily pops around the corner, I can’t help but grin. “Good timing, I was getting ready to check in on Griffin. Let’s go see how he’s doing.” I hold out a hand in front of me. “Hostages first.”

When shakes her head, I place a hand along her lower back and guide her in front of me through the door. Yet she still finds a moment to look back at me and glare, which makes me chuckle. “Thought I wasn’t a hostage.”

“You must think you are, since you thought I was talking about you.”

“Who else is here that you would refer to?”

I tap my thigh and Buddy comes running by. “Good boy.”

Emily rolls her eyes and rounds the couch to kneel on the other side, with Buddy sitting down right next to her. I stand behind them like a guard.

She gently presses the back of her hand against Griffin’s cheek and sighs. “His temperature is fine at least, but we can’t know anything more unless he wakes up.”

“He will. He’s too stubborn to die like this. We all are.”

She glances up at me and then looks out the door, where the sun is getting closer to the horizon. William shouldn’t be too much longer now.

Her hand slides down to his beating pulse on the side of his neck. She must like what she feels because her shoulders relax a little. She grabs the water bottle next to the couch and wets the cloth beside it before gently dabbing his forehead. I watch with interest while she cares for my friend, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m capable of earning that from her, too, or if I’m too messed up for it. My brother left me a broken mess, but I can still fantasize about her putting me back together again. The pieces will be jagged and some will be forever missing, but for the first time, I’m jealous. For the first time, I wish I was the one who was hurt and lying on the couch unconscious with her work of art adorning my skin, holding my organs in place.

“Where’s William?”

My gaze shifts from her hand that’s pressing the rag to Griffin’s skin, and I focus on her face. “He’s looking around for more supplies.”

“Like what? We have all we need right now.”

“That won’t last. We like to think ahead when we can. He promised he won’t be long.”

“He shouldn’t have gone out on his own,” she mutters, reaching for the blanket that’s covering Griffin.

“I already gave him that lecture, but please give him another one when he gets back. I’ll sit back and watch.”

She shakes her head and pulls the blanket back, then lifts Griffin’s shirt, exposing the healing wound. She runs her fingertip across his skin, along the outside of the stitches where the skin looks unbothered. “This was the second time I stitched someone up.”

“When was the first time?”

“Couple months ago.” She frowns and for a moment I worry that something is wrong with Griffin, before I realize she’s frowning at her own memory. Whatever she sees inside her head is troublesome, and I want to introduce it to Debbie. “When that guy stole our supplies and let the rotters in. I performed my first stitch job on someone who had been cut, but I didn’t realize until it was too late that she had been bitten. I put a bullet in her head myself.”

Interesting. “So there were more than just you and your friend?”

Her movements pause and her lip quivers as though trying to say something without saying something. I think I might’ve touched upon a secret of hers. I want to let it out. Watch it bleed all over the floor. “There were, yes. But that person is gone now.”

When she doesn’t elaborate, I decide to let it go for now. I know all about losing people. I still want to know all of her stories, though. Big and small, fascinating and boring. I want to cut her open—metaphorically, of course—and marvel at the goddess that she is. I want to read her story, and help her write the rest of it.

I’m getting attached. That’s undeniable. But I have no intention of severing what connects us.

“Do you think there’s a chance Griffin could’ve been bit?” I ask, looking at my friend fighting for his life right in front of me.

“Of course.” Her words send a rush shooting through me. Not a good rush, either. I don’t realize until right this moment what it could mean to lose either of my friends. I reach back and grab Debbie’s handle, but her next words have me pausing. “William and I checked over every inch of him. He wasn’t bit. We had the same worry.”

I breathe out a sigh of relief. The contrast of emotions is so intense that I need a minute. I stagger backward until I’m leaning back against the counter.

Griffin is going to be fine. He’s going to wake up and tolerate my crazy exactly like he has been since the dead rose.

William is going to be fine, too. He’s going to come back. And if he doesn’t, then I’ll go after him myself. I shouldn’t have let him go off on his own. But then Emily would be left to defend both herself and Griffin on her own, and I can’t have that. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to any of them.

I run a hand down my face. The reality of the situation hits me. I put myself in danger all the time. I find the fun in the apocalypse. But it’s too easy to forget that the possibility of losing any of them is very real. I don’t mind putting myself in danger, but I really don’t like it when they are.

“You okay?”

My eyes lift to where Emily is still kneeling next to Griffin and her blurry figure comes back into view. My fingers curl around the edge of the countertop behind me, and a sly grin turns up my lips. “Yeah, pet. I’m perfectly fine.”

Her eyes narrow. She doesn’t believe me. Smart woman.

I lift my chin to indicate Griffin. “He okay, there?”

“He’s fine.”

“Good. Let’s go, then.” I hold out a hand to her, which she takes after a moment of hesitation.

“Where are we going?”

“To explore.” I pull her to her feet and she stumbles, catching herself with her hand against my chest, my heart racing beneath her palm. “You worry too much.”

“I have reason to.”

“That you do. You know, I haven’t crossed paths with many people who will go to such great lengths to help others. Your friend, William with his arm, and now Griffin. Makes me wonder what you would do if I’m ever in trouble.”

“I can’t turn my back on those who need me.”

“That’s a rare quality. The changed world hasn’t knocked that out of you yet.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Yet?”

“Come on. Let’s see what kind of trouble we can find.”

The door creaks open and I walk through first. Everything is eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the rest of the world. It’s abandoned like the rest of the town. I reach back behind me and tug Emily inside. “Come on. It’s a bit dusty, but there must be something good around here.”

“I don’t like leaving Griffin behind like this.”

“We’re right next door, mere feet away. Plus, Buddy is with him.” I point at a window on the far wall. “Look, we can see them through this window here.”

She peers through the window and frowns. “No, I can’t.”

Moving behind her, I wrap my hands around her waist and lift her up so she can see. I knew she was tiny, but I didn’t realize how much until now. How can so much stubbornness fit inside such a tiny little thing? “Well, not them, exactly. But you can see the building. Now, what’s your poison?”

She waits until I set her back on her feet and take my place behind the bar before answering. Playing bartender tonight sounds like a good time. “Death cap sounds like a fun one.”

A smirk plays on my lips when I look at her. She’s serious. That’s adorable. Also, a little fucked up. I love it. “That sounds like a fun one, but I wasn’t intending to put mushrooms in your glass. Or anything that’s literal poison. I was thinking of something that might burn differently. Something along the lines of whiskey.”

She abandons the window and walks over so she’s standing across from me, her forearms resting on the bar top as she leans over to watch me work. “Well, that sounds more appetizing.”

“You scare me sometimes.”

“A little fear is healthy.”

“Not when you’re talking about eating poisonous mushrooms.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to eat them. Just that they sounded fun.”

“Anything with the word death in the name does sound fun,” I agree, then lay two whiskey tumblers on the bar top and open the ice machine to find there’s actually some ice in it.

“What’s that smirk for?”

“People in this town had their priorities in order. The general store doesn’t have power, but the ice machine in the pub next door does. The power company in this area must’ve lasted much longer than most of the other areas we’ve traveled through.”

“I wonder what happened to everyone,” Emily says, looking around at the dusty pub. “Someone must have recently abandoned it because a generator can only last for so long.”

“Rotters happened, pet. That herd that took us over? That was probably them. I’d bet my weapons on it.”

“All it takes is one bite to take out a whole town.” Her voice is barely a whisper now. She’s getting lost in her thoughts, and her thoughts at the moment aren’t great. I don’t like that. I want her thoughts to be on me. We can think about doom and gloom later on. There’ll be plenty of time for that. I’ll even make sure of it.

Grabbing the most expensive bottle of whiskey from the top shelf, I pour her a glass first and slide it closer to her. “Drink.”

She runs her finger along the rim of the glass, looking down into the amber liquid. Huh, I never realized how beautiful whiskey was before. There’s something familiar about the color. “I haven’t touched alcohol since the dead rose. Need to stay sharp and alert, never know what’ll happen, what danger is around the corner.”

“We’re the only living souls in this town. The only thing around the corner is a mosquito, and I’ll take him out, too. Besides, if a rotter stumbles in, I’ll take care of it. I’ll even remain sober to protect you better.”

She looks at me, and her eyes fill with something I haven’t seen in a very long time. At least, not geared toward me. Toward William, maybe, but never me.

Trust.

“I’m not joking, pet. Drink to your heart’s content. I promise I won’t swallow a drop.”

Lifting the glass, she tips her head back and downs the liquid before setting the glass back onto the bar again.

“Well, I’ll be damned. I thought you were going to be all girly and take a sip, then make a face and ask for something fruity instead.”

She scrunches her nose. “Not a fan of fruity drinks. Too sugary.”

I lean across the bar and grin. “Yeah, I guess something as sweet as you don’t need any added sugar.”

She opens her mouth to respond but then freezes when a noise sounds from somewhere off to the side. We both look in the direction it came from and see a door, likely leading to a back room.

I push off the counter and don’t have time to reach for Debbie before the door opens and three men walk in. Dregs. Or maybe survivors. I can’t tell if they’re dangerous yet, but they’re definitely alive.

Well, that’s surprising. I guess I was wrong. The mosquito isn’t the only other living thing around here, after all. I’m not a big fan of being wrong about things like this.

The first man looks me up and down before grinning from ear to ear. I don’t like his grin. It’s the kind of grin that looks pretty but holds something sinister. “Well, we haven’t seen another living person in months.”

“I’ll be damned,” the second man says, running his fingers through his hair and messing up his ponytail. What a stupid ponytail. It’s perfect for rotters to grab. Or crazy bastards like me who want to swing him around until his head pops off. Oh, that could be fun.

The third man is the largest of them all, with his arms crossed over his chest. He says nothing, but I sure as hell don’t like the way he’s looking at my pet right now. I’m tempted to put a hole in this bar between us so I can slide her over by my side.

The first two men jump into a series of questions. They’re laughing and smiling as though they found the jackpot of two survivors, while the third man doesn’t stop leering at Emily. If it weren’t for him, this encounter might not be too bad, though I also don’t like their questions. I’m barely paying attention to them. I’m too busy watching big, dark, and grumpy. The only big, dark, and grumpy one I’ll tolerate is Griffin.

“Just passing through,” Emily says with a breathy laugh, snapping my attention to her. I don’t like her giving her laugh to them, but there’s something in her laugh that has me on edge. She’s uncomfortable.

“So what’s your story, sugar?” the first guy asks, picking up a bottle of whiskey from the floor and dusting it off before taking a drink straight from the bottle. “Oh, that aged well. You know, we haven’t seen a living woman in a long time.” He chuckles when her body stiffens at his implication. Dreg. “Relax, sugar, we’re only talking. So, what’s your story?”

“I don’t have a story.”

“Everyone has a story.”

They’re asking way too many questions. I should feed them to Debbie for that alone. The only thing stopping me is the gun in his waist holster, and I’m willing to bet the other two are packing as well. We tend not to travel with guns much. We have a couple in the car for emergencies, but all guns do is attract rotters, being noisy and all.

“We’re just passing through. Saw a town and thought we could stock up on supplies. Turns out there really isn’t much here, only what’s in the bar here is worth the effort,” I say, drawing their attention away from Emily. I even slam down a few more glasses onto the bar and pour them drinks because I’m a great fucking guy like that, though Mr. Drink From The Bottle prefers to act like an animal.

The ponytail man accepts my drinks and downs it in one gulp before sliding the glass back to me like I’m the fucking bartender. He better tip well. I’ll accept payment in the form of his life if he doesn’t. “She with you?”

“Absolutely.” I should have done this the moment they stepped inside.

I reach over the bar top and hoist Emily over it until she’s sitting at the edge, facing me, with me standing between her parted thighs. Her hands land on my shoulders and I step in close. I smile when I hear her breath hitch once she realizes what I’m doing, but she doesn’t stop me. She leans into it. When I hold her beautiful face with one hand, her eyes flutter to my mouth before I press it against her soft lips. I kiss her hard. Sensual. And she’s responsive as fuck. A little noise sounds in the back of her throat and I wrap my other hand around her waist, pulling her closer, so that my hardening cock presses against her warm center, aching to become acquainted. In time, fella, in time.

My eyes open to watch the men. As much as I want to get lost in this woman right now, I don’t trust these guys any more than I trust the rotters that attacked us, and I’m right. The large silent one leers at us with an uncomfortable look of longing. The first man runs his tongue over his bottom lip, slowly. And the ponytail man shamelessly readjusts himself right in front of us, as though we’re the first porn he’s ever watched in his pathetic, insignificant life. He’s marked for death.

I pull away from Emily, feeling better now that we don’t have this long counter between us. She’s in front of me, in my arms, where she should be. Where I can protect her better. Because I know that I’m going to have to here real soon.

“So, you up for sharing?” the ponytail asks.

Emily holds my gaze when I answer. It’s difficult to do, but I keep my words light. Well, sort of. I throw in a touch of I’ll-cut-you, too. “I absolutely don’t share. She’s mine, and mine alone, so you guys should scat.”

Her fingers curl against my shoulder and I know what she’s thinking, but that’s not a conversation for right now. No. Right now, I need to get rid of these guys.

“Maybe we can work out a deal,” the first man tries, after taking another drink straight from the bottle. Fuck, man, I gave him a damn glass he won’t even touch. I won’t pour every single drink for him. Doesn’t anyone in this damn apocalypse have manners anymore?

“I don’t make deals. You can have this bar, and you can have this town, but you won’t ever touch my woman.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, then run my knuckles down her cheek, her neck, her collarbone. Death will be our foreplay.

“More people means more protection. We can all keep her protected. It’ll be a lot harder to do on your own,” the first man says, with more force this time.

“Maybe we should let the lady speak for herself,” the ponytail adds.

“Go away before I make you go away.” The playfulness in my voice is gone and replaced by something dark and cold. My hand drops to the hem of Emily’s shirt and slides up, roaming over her skin, to the place where my knife is secured in the bra holster I made for her. One of the guys’ breath hitches and I can’t wait until I make him stop breathing. I wrap my fingers around the small handle.

Emily wraps her small hand around my forearm, stopping me. I look into her eyes to see a stern look. She knows what I’m thinking, but it won’t change the outcome. I’ve killed the dead for her, and I’ll kill the living for her, too.

“You know what? That’s fine, actually. We were going to head over to the general store next, anyway,” the first man says.

Emily’s eyes widen and I see the panic there. I place a reassuring kiss on her lips.

“We were already there. Place was wiped out. Now it’s filled with dismembered rotters and barely any space to walk. Like I said, the only worthwhile building in this town is this one. That’s why we’re here,” I say, keeping my voice even.

Ponytail steps forward, rubbing his chin. “Seems like you don’t want us here, and you don’t want us over there, either. Must be something worthwhile. Got more girls waiting for you over there or something?”

“That all you care about? A place to warm your cock?”

“Hey, man, it’s been a long apocalypse.”

I tear my gaze away from Emily to look at the two men—wait, two. Where did the large silent one go off to? “Where’s your friend?”

The front door opens, and he strides on in. I tighten my hand on Emily’s hip and slowly slide the knife free from her holster. “He was right. There’s nothing over there other than some first aid supplies. No piles of dismembered rotters, though. Actually, there isn’t a single rotter limb in there.”

If looks could shoot daggers, all of them would be dead. “What else did you find?”

Emily shivers at the coldness in my voice, but I see the growing panic in her eyes. She reaches for her necklace, having the same thoughts as I am.

“I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,” the first man says. He’s pointing a gun at us with one hand, while taking another drink from the bottle in his other. I have confidence that his shot will be awful if he keeps drinking like this. Maybe I should pour him a few extra rounds.

“He found nothing.” William appears in the doorway and holds a knife to the large man’s throat.

“What the hell is this?” the first man yells. “She got you guys by the balls real good, yeah? You gonna play house in this dead town? Must have one hell of a pussy.”

I pull the knife from her bra holster and throw it at the first guy, getting him right through the left eye before throwing myself over Emily. His finger pulls the trigger on impulse and he ends up shooting his own guy before going down, his screams filling the air. Emily pulls the small knife from her necklace and throws it at the ponytail guy, but he moves so she only slices his cheek.

Picking up Emily and setting her on the floor behind the counter where she should be safe, I leap over the bar top, cut off his ponytail, then shove it into his mouth before sticking my knife in his gut. The first man’s screams stop on a gurgle and I glance over to see William taking care of him next, before picking up his gun and inspecting it.

“Hopefully no rotters heard that,” William grumbles, then looks over at Emily with worry. “Are you okay?”

The door to the backroom opens again and I pull the knife from the man’s gut and raise it, but it’s Griffin who enters. I let out a curse, but he ignores me and heads straight for Emily, helping her to her feet.

“You’re still hurt. You shouldn’t be moving this much,” Emily chastises him.

“Good thing I did, or that mountain of a man would have found me before William did. Besides, I’m fine.”

“Your stitches are bleeding,” she argues.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, now let’s get you back over there. I need to clean out your wound and restitch it again.”

William takes over with helping Griffin get back to the general building next door, and I grab Emily’s hand to hold her back. “You really are okay, aren’t you, pet? You weren’t only saying that to not worry him.”

My voice shakes a little when I ask. It surprises me. I know she wasn’t physically hurt, but hurt manifests in ways that no one else sees. This is the first time I’ve been this genuinely worried about someone’s feelings in…a really long time. I don’t understand how to deal with that.

She rests her palm against my cheek. It’s warm and calming. I press against it. Feeling every curve of her palm. I’m addicted to her touch in whatever form she’ll give it. “I’m fine, Max, I promise. Thank you for not being the kind of man who would have let them do whatever they want.”

Squeezing her hand with mine, my other hand reaches up to cup the back of her head and I rest my forehead against hers. “I’ll kill anyone who even looks at you wrong. Those men had a death sentence the moment I saw the look in their eyes. They weren’t leaving here alive.”

She looks in my eyes, and I mean, she really looks at me. I’m caught off guard because I expected her to give me one of those soft smiles of hers in thanks and then run off after William and Griffin, but she does something that surprises me yet again. She lifts onto her toes and kisses me. It’s not a brief, chaste kiss, either. She opens her mouth to me and invades my mouth like she’s invaded my every waking thought. Then, after a small hum, she backs away until her fingers slide from mine and she runs out the door.

My dick is rock hard.

Fascinating.

18

EMILY

Griffin’s roars of pain are enough to wake the dead.

“If you don’t stop with your bitching, we’re going to be overrun again,” I say with a huff. I’m trying to clean out his wound again and he’s not making it easy.

“Here, try this.” William shoves a rag in Griffin’s mouth and it muffles the screams. “Much better.”

“Thank you, William.”

“You’re welcome, Em.” William leans over the back of the couch and grasps one of Griffin’s hands. “Squeeze when it hurts.”

“He’s going to break your hand,” I point out.

“I can handle it.” His face becomes unreadable when I finish cleaning Griffin’s wound and he squeezes his friend’s hand like it’s his only lifeline.

“How did you know we were over there?” I ask.

“Came back and saw Grif limping out the door with Buddy.”

Griffin uses his other hand to pull the rag out of his mouth. “I wasn’t limping. Buddy was going crazy and woke me up. Then I heard voices next door, more voices than I should have, and some I didn’t recognize. Didn’t take long to figure out something was wrong.” He gives another howl of pain and William slaps his hand over Griffin’s mouth.

“We took opposite entrances. Buddy went with him, but he closed the door on him to keep him out,” William continued.

Griffin freed his mouth again. “Didn’t want the dog getting hurt.”

As if in thanks for the sentiment, Buddy nuzzles his nose against Griffin’s forehead, and he calms down a little.

“That dog is a better fighter than you are right now,” I say, pressing a little too hard against his wound with the damp cloth.

He grits his teeth against the pain and pulls his hand from William’s grip. “I’m still perfectly capable.”

Tossing the cloth to the side, I grab the next supplies and thread the needle using the light from the candles we’d lit and placed all around the store. With the sun long gone, I’m grateful we found so many candles to still see by. Otherwise, trying to stitch him up in the dark wouldn’t go nearly as well. “This one is going to hurt.”

“I can handle it.”

“If you scream, I’ll have William knock you out.”

“You’re almost as crazy as Max.”

My core clenches at the mention of Max and the memory of our closeness not that long ago. We were outnumbered by men who wanted to hurt me, but I felt safer than I had in a long time. Possibly safer than I’d ever felt before, even when I was in the middle of my colony. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Griffin grumbles, and William chuckles and stands up to gather the supplies together. There’s a very good chance that Griffin’s screams have drawn rotters toward us, so we would need to be ready to leave at a second’s notice. There’s no telling how far away that herd is right now. If they were close enough to hear the gunshot or Griffin’s screams…

“Still. If you didn’t get yourself into trouble again, then I wouldn’t need to save you. Again.”

“Yeah, well, here I am stitching you up. Again.” I stab him hard with the needle to start the stitches and he winces. Good. “Max had it under control. They would never get near me.”

Something flashes in Griffin’s eyes, something I can’t quite read, but he doesn’t scream out like I expect.

I let out a sigh. “Thank you for coming after me, even if you were stupid about it.”

He opens his mouth to retort, but then clenches his teeth together against the pain. He stays that way until I’ve finished stitching him up.

“There, that should do it. Now don’t do anything to rip these open again, or I’ll make sure the next time I stitch you up is more painful.”

“Don’t worry, princess, I can control myself.” His words come out harsh and he pulls himself into a seated position. His hands fist against the cushion and he looks down into his lap, his shirt falling down to hide the wound.

“I’m going to go make sure you didn’t draw that herd back toward us.” After repacking the first aid kit, I grab the needle to cleanse it in the fire, leaving Griffin alone to annoy himself inside. I look around and see only William. “Where’s Max?”

William is sitting in front of the fire, and he looks up at me when I approach. He holds out his hand to me and I accept it, allowing him to pull me down and onto his lap. “He went to get some more wood to get us through the night, and do a perimeter check. We’re all concerned about that herd coming back, but we’ve got it under control.”

I let out a sigh. “We really have to talk about you guys going out on your own to check for rotters. There are four of us.”

“What if one of us has a really good reason?”

Holding the needle with a pair of thongs, I hold it over the flames until I decide it’s been long enough. “What reason could be good enough?”

He grabs something from the ground beside him and lifts it up. In the light emanating from the flames, I recognize it as my compass. I realized I must have left it in the car when I was checking the direction we were going before the flat tire, but I didn’t think it was safe enough to go back for it yet. “You didn’t…William.” I grab it from his hands and place it in my lap, quickly setting the needle back into the first aid kit so it doesn’t get lost. “How?”

William moves my hair over to one side and rests his chin on my shoulder, watching me turn the old object around in my hands. “I wanted to do it before sundown. Before too much time passed. I was worried that other survivors or dregs might come by and raid the vehicles, our car included. I grabbed this plus one bag of food before a couple of rotters spotted me, so I took them out on my way back.”

Closing my fingers around the compass, I place the chain around my neck before turning to cradle his cheek in my hand. I lean down and kiss him, pouring my thanks, appreciation, and disbelief into one kiss. His arms wrap around me and hold me against him while he kisses me back.

“Thank you,” I whisper against his lips. “I’m sorry I keep endangering you over my things, but⁠—”

He cuts off my words with another kiss. “Don’t you ever apologize for that. We don’t do anything that we don’t want to do, Em. Ever.”

I touch my forehead to his and close my eyes, basking in the feeling of being cared for.

“Ah, I see Willie-Boy has finally told you why he disappeared and almost missed all the fun earlier.” Max tosses another piece of wood onto the fire before dropping an armful onto the pile nearby.

William briefly presses his lips to my forehead before turning me around. “Come on, Griffin still needs to eat. And I brought back snacks.”

Griffin appears and carefully lowers himself to the ground and takes the food offered to him. A can of beans, the same that we had earlier. I almost tell them I’m not hungry, but then William pulls out a bag of chips that he snagged from the car along with a chocolate bar, and I greedily tear into it.

“Hey, save some for the rest of us.” Max swipes the chocolate bar from my hands and Griffin snatches it right back, then hands it to me.

“Thank you, but don’t go tearing open your stitches again.”

He smirks at me. “If I do, then you can fight for your own damn chocolate.”

“Hey, I was going to share,” Max pouts.

Breaking the chocolate bar in half, I offer one half to Max, who turns it down. When no one else wants any, I shrug and enjoy every bite.

We sit there eating in the firelight and talking about our past lives. I tell stories about working in my flower shop and the neighborhood cat that liked to sneak in and knock plants off the shelves. Stories I haven’t told to anyone else other than Zoey, not since the dead rose.

With a yawn, I snuggle against William’s chest and let my eyes droop closed. It’s been an exhausting day and right now nothing feels better than sitting by a fire with a full belly and with William’s arms wrapped around me.

For a moment, everything feels perfect.

Only for a moment, though. It could never last.

Something moves beneath me. Something hard and soft at the same time, but comforting. I groan in protest. “It’s me, Em. I’ve got you,” a soft voice whispers in my ear.

Strong arms band around me, and we move. We don’t go far. I think I was vertical for a moment and now I’m horizontal.

Murmured arguments reach me. Someone is telling Griffin to sleep on the couch, but he doesn’t want to. Max says they’ll be fine because he’s going to be up anyway, keeping watch. Angry footsteps stomp away.

My head presses against a muscular chest, a warm palm covering the side of my face. William’s voice vibrates through his chest when he speaks. “Sleep, Em. I’ve got you.”

William sacrifices himself as my pillow, my mattress, and my blanket. Pretty soon warmth engulfs me and I’m drifting off to sleep again.

The world is dark when my eyes open, save for the glow of the fire. A low rumble and a soft rise and fall of my head stirs me more awake, and I realize I’m on William’s chest. He’s still sound asleep. I want to go back to sleep, too, but my bladder protests. So I slide away, careful not to wake him, and then sneak off to pee and wash up.

I’m walking back to camp, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, when a figure steps out in front of me. I open my mouth to scream, but he slams a hand over my mouth. “Shhh, it’s only me, pet.”

His hand slides away, but he doesn’t move, still blocking my path. I’m more awake now than I was a few moments ago. “Did you follow me?”

“Only enough to make sure you were safe. Wanted to make sure you made it back okay. Never know what kind of creepy crawlies will sneak up on you, even while relieving yourself.”

I huff out a laugh and shake my head. “Like you?”

He tilts his head enough so that I can make out his grin in the faint moonlight. “I’m the best kind of creepy crawlie there is.”

His knuckles slide along my jaw and then down my throat, sending a shiver through me at the memory of what happened inside the pub.

“I wonder what would’ve happened if we weren’t interrupted,” he says.

“We might never find out.”

“Hmm, that’s a shame.”

A low moan sounds from behind me and Max reaches for his morning star, but I have my knife drawn and am already moving away. The rotter is crawling along the ground, legless. I put it out of its misery before Max even blinks, and I turn to face him again. “You can get the next one.”

But he’s not looking at the rotter, he’s looking at me. He pulls a scrap of fabric from his back pocket and presses it against my forehead. When he pulls the fabric away, I can see it dotted with a spot of blood in the faint starlight streaming in through the canopy. “You look sexy when you’re covered in someone else’s blood.”

He pushes me back against the nearest tree and kisses me, reminding me so much of our first kiss. My breath hitches and I relax into him, my heart pounding.

Another moan from somewhere off to the side. Max doesn’t pull his lips from mine when he pulls out a knife and throws it blindly into the dark. The moan stops. Our lips are only a breadth apart. “You should be careful. There are rotters around.”

“I’m with you.”

He closes the gap and presses his lips to mine again, hard, with hunger. His hands squeeze my hips and he grinds against me when I reach up and loop my arms around his neck. I hold him close. I hold him like he’s mine.

I pull back. “We left the others unprotected while they sleep.”

A gleam appears in his eyes and his lips turn up in a half smile before he leans down to kiss the side of my neck. “You can see them from here, over my shoulder. You can watch sleeping William during what I’m about to do to you, pet.”

His mouth trails fervent kisses across my collarbone and he slowly kneels to the ground in front of me. Hooking his fingers into my waistband, he tugs my pants and underwear down my thighs before spreading my legs and feasting on me. I don’t have time to process what he’s doing before I’m lost to the sensations.

I fold over with my hands on his shoulders, and he presses one hand between my breasts to push me back upright. “Don’t worry, pet. I’ve got you, but I’m going to need you to stay standing for me. Watch them while I take care of you.”

My gaze roams over Max’s head, through the trees and the short distance to the small building where Griffin sleeps, and William’s sleeping form on the ground by the fire. Buddy is sound asleep next to him. There are no rotters in sight. We’re all still safe.

One of my arms reaches up and holds onto the low hanging tree branch above me, while my other hand travels down to tangle my fingers in Max’s dark hair. His tongue presses against my clit and I gasp. He pauses and looks up at me with his tongue still on me. “Do I need to cover your mouth?”

“No,” I breathe out. “Please continue.”

My head falls back against the tree trunk and he continues to fuck me with his tongue. A crescendo builds up deep in my core and threatens to spill over. My legs shake. I fight to keep my eyes open, watching over the others while my worlds rocks.

I can’t keep it in anymore. The orgasm rushes through me and Max’s hand reaches up before the first cry can escape. His hand covers my mouth while I come undone on his tongue and then I slide down the trunk, the bark cutting into my back through my thin shirt, but I don’t care. He catches me in his arms with my head falling against his chest. His touch is so gentle that it surprises me, but he holds me to him like I’ll break if he moves. My eyes flutter closed. I’m cocooned in his warmth.

He kisses the top of my head and runs his fingers with featherlight touches up and down my arm. “Still wonder what would’ve happened if we weren’t interrupted?”

“Hmm. No, this was perfect,” I mumble.

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Good.” He tilts my head back with a soft touch of my jaw and kisses my lips. I can taste myself on him. “We should get you back there before someone wakes up and realizes you’re gone.”

“Why?” I whisper, my brain unable to form the complete question.

“Because they’ll worry and come looking for you.”

“Not what I mean.”

“I know.” Still holding me up with one arm, he helps me pull my pants back up before guiding me back to the campfire. He stands back and waits for me to crawl back onto William’s chest, whose arms wrap instinctively around me, before disappearing into the shadows again.

19

GRIFFIN

The sun is practically blinding, as though I haven’t seen it in days. I feel like I’ve slept for weeks and could still use more sleep, but I can’t stand being so immobile. So vulnerable. Emily will yell at me if she finds me off the couch and moving around. So I’m going to go find her.

William is tending to the fire, and he looks up when he sees me, but he doesn’t scold. He simply nods and throws on another log, so I keep walking, following the sound of grunting.

Piles of dirt soar into the air out of a large hole. I walk around to the side and look down to see Max digging. “Don’t tell me these are our graves,” I grind out. “I’m not dead yet.”

Max looks up with a manic grin. “I can dig one especially for you if you say please.”

I roll my eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Those bodies next door will get pretty ripe soon. Since we don’t know how long we’ll be here for, I figured I’d take care of it.”

“Have you been digging all night?”

He sticks the shovel into the ground and leans on it, wiping sweat from his brow. “Not all night. I got bored watching everyone sleep, so I figured hey, why not dig some graves to pass the time? I’m spontaneous like that.”

“Need any help?”

He lets out a laugh. “Emily will skin me alive if she finds out I put you to manual labor your first day on your feet. She can be scarier than you.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Care to put that to the test?”

“Should you even be moving around so much? I know nothing about stitches, but I know she doesn’t like it when we go around opening our own wounds and all. Especially right after she went through all the effort of patching us up. Something about wanting us to stay alive for whatever reason.”

“Yeah, imagine that. Have you seen her?”

He points his thumb in a direction and then gets back to work digging, so I walk away. I don’t like that neither of them have an eye on her. She could be miles away by now. She could’ve changed the tire and driven the next state over, leaving us in the dust. She could be—right in front of me, cradling a flower?

I walk up behind her as silent as can be and observe. She’s sitting next to a small patch of crushed flowers like someone stepped on them, and she’s trying to get them to stand upright. She’s even using water from her own water bottle, sprinkling it over them to get them to pep back up. Not a day goes by that she doesn’t confuse the ever-loving fuck out of me.

“For a woman who claims to be so badass and doesn’t flinch in the face of death, you’ve got a surprisingly soft side.”

She squeals and turns around, falling over onto her butt. Then she panics and looks down, but when she sees she landed on grass and not the precious flowers, she turns a scowl onto me. “Don’t sneak up like that. Shouldn’t you be resting? Go back to bed.”

“I’m rested enough,” I lie. Truth is, I could still use a lot more sleep and I might fall over soon, but I can’t make myself lie back down. I’m tired of everyone telling me to rest. That’s getting old real fast. Plus, I’m too interested in what she’s up to. “What are you doing?”

Motioning to the little patch of flowers, she follows my sight. William had told me about her being a botanist before the dead rose, and last night she regaled us with stories as a florist, but I’m still surprised to see her tending to some random flowers in the middle of nowhere.

“Do you know what this is?”

Frowning, I shake my head. “Weird looking flowers?”

She scoffs at me.

“Hate to break it to you, princess, but I haven’t carved out time in my day-to-day survival to learn about plants, unless you count what berries we can eat and which to avoid.”

“Well, that’s a start,” she grumbles.

“Come again?”

“I said you’re an idiot.”

A grin crosses my face at the insult. I can’t help it. She’s fun to rile up. “Fine. So what is it?”

“Roses.” A grin splits her face so wide that I’m not sure I heard her right.

“Um…aren’t roses supposed to be red?”

“Not all of them. There are a few colors they appear in naturally. Lavender is my favorite. Right after the corpse lily.”

Okay, now I’m sure I didn’t hear her right. “A... come again?”

“Corpse lily. They’re rare and mostly found in Indonesia, but when they bloom, they smell like rotting flesh.”

I scrunch up my nose. “And to think, I always thought girls liked a bouquet of roses. No wonder I could never keep a relationship.”

“That, and your sparkling personality.”

“Never been one to sparkle.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Let’s go back to flowers that smell like rotting flesh. That’s disgusting.”

“Did you know that if you were to cover your body in entrails from a rotter, then you’d be able to walk right by them if you didn’t make a sound?”

“Do I want to know how you know this?”

She thinks about it for a moment. “Probably not.”

“Not convincing enough. How do you know this?” Leaning forward, I kneel and rest my elbows on my knees, trying to trying to picture this corpse flower. It blows my mind that something like this exists in the world. Then again, the dead don’t stay dead in this world, so I really need to lower my bar for mind-blown moments.

“When that guy almost killed my friends—friend—and I by stealing our supplies and leading the dead in, I got a little carried away with my anger and slashed one up pretty good. It fell right on top of me, so when I stood up, I was covered in its guts and none of the other rotters paid me any attention until I screamed for my friend.”

My body temperature rises when she mentions this betrayal. I really want to find this guy and end him. “This guy who betrayed you. Where do you think he is now?”

She shrugs. “Hopefully dead somewhere. No, hopefully alive and starving and cornered by a horde with only a gun that ran out of bullets.”

“Harsh.”

“Not enough.”

“Touche. So does this corpse lily look anything like a rotter? Because I can’t imagine putting one into a vase on the kitchen counter.”

Her eyes widen. “They’re beautiful. Besides, add one into your rose bouquet and you’d have every girl in the country after you.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“I get it, you’re boring.”

“I’m not⁠—”

“So anyway, lavender roses.” Her eyes light up when she turns back to the flowers that brought us to this moment. I smile. I can’t help it. Seeing her excited about something so mundane as random flowers is a breath of fresh air I didn’t realize I needed. “They’re beautiful. I think someone stepped on one and I was trying to pep it up again.”

“Don’t flowers in the wild take care of themselves?”

“Well, yeah, but we don’t need to go around trampling them.”

“So you’re going to spend time out here tending to them, then?”

She shrugs and works on propping up the lavender rose again. “Might as well. You’re no longer dying in my arms, so I can give some of my attention to something else now.”

“I wasn’t dying in your arms.”

“However you want to phrase it. But yes, you were.” She looks at me with wide eyes. “That means I’m your hero. You practically owe me your life.”

“So I’ll repay you by helping with this flower. What do you want me to do?”

She recoils as though I suggested we set it on fire. “What do you mean, you? You’re big and clunky and might end up crushing it more.”

“Big and clunky? You think I’m big and clunky?” I grab her wrist, making her squeal. She leaps up to get away from me, but her foot catches on a raised root and she trips, sailing straight back to the ground.

I tighten my hold and spin us around so that I’m hovering overtop of her with her back on the ground. Well, sort of. I have one hand behind her back, holding her up over the flowers with my other hand pressing against the dirt.

Her chest rises and falls with each breath, and my face is close to hers with a smirk. “Say I’m big and clunky again, princess.”

“You’re big and clunky.”

I frown. “You weren’t supposed to actually say it.”

“Thanks for saving the lavender roses.”

“You’re welcome, princess. I guess this means we’re even now.” Lifting myself up, I pull her up and away from the flowers, and it gives me an idea. A surprise for her.

I smile at her, and this time it’s a genuine smile. Not joking, not laughing at her, but impressed. She’s impressing me. And that’s a first for anyone.

Emily told me to go lie down and rest, so of course I’m looking through the other buildings in this small abandoned town instead. There’s a bakery and a diner, but the stench of rotting food made me close the door and keep walking. The stench of rotting people is already more than enough to deal with.

The next building I see looks to be an old dentist’s office. That could be promising. I draw my knife and step inside.

Everything is calm. Eerie, even. Almost as though time has stood still, frozen in its tracks. Nothing overturned or broken, and no stains that I can see. I’m not used to finding a place so preserved. Every place I’ve stepped inside of for two-hundred and seventy-three days has looked like the aftermath of a massacre. I was told that Max and William cleaned up the area a little while Emily was working on keeping me alive, but this place is still unlike anything I’ve seen. It’s almost livable.

In one corner is a large pot with a dead tree, the only sign that no one has been here to take care of it for a long time. The pot is too big, and probably too heavy, to transport. There’s a smaller pot on the receptionist’s desk, but that one is far too small. I turn in a circle and survey the area before spotting one that could be the right size.

Walking over to the pot I picked out, I reach down and grasp the edges with both hands. The plant inside is clearly dead. I’m sure Emily won’t mind that I vacate it’s home to help her new flowers.

The moment I tip it over, I bend in half from the pain in my side, my hand shooting out to cover the stitched wound. I’m gasping for breath, waiting for my vision to clear, when I hear the click of the door opening.

Soft footsteps reach me. “I knew you wouldn’t listen to me. You’ve burst open your stitches again, haven’t you?”

I pull my hand away and lift the bottom of my shirt to expose the stitch job. No blood. “They’re still in place,” I pant out.

“For now. We’re eventually going to run out of thread. How much am I going to need to baby you before you finally take care of yourself?”

I stand up straight, towering over her small frame. She lifts her chin, tilting her head back as she keeps eye contact. It’s something I’m getting used to, having someone around who doesn’t cower around me regardless of size difference. She puts up with my looks, my personality, and gives me shit at every turn. Truth is, I would have let her go free long ago after realizing my initial assumption of her was wrong, but I’ve been greedy. “I don’t need you to baby me.”

“You don’t know what you need. You’re so busy trying to take care of everyone else that you can’t even take a single moment to take care of yourself.” Her words catch me off guard, and I nearly stumble back at the blow from them.

“So you’re a shrink now?”

“No. I’m your prisoner and I would very much like to get back on the road, as I still have a mission to complete, but I can’t do that until you’re better.” Another blow.

“Well, princess, I’m up and moving around. I don’t need you or anyone on my ass day and night. If you want to leave, then let’s get to the car and leave.”

“We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I will not drag you to your death. Zoey means everything to me, and I will find her insulin in time, but not at the cost of your lives. Because you three have made me care about your stupid lives, and it pisses me off.”

I take a step closer, but she doesn’t budge. “Why does it piss you off?”

“Because caring about other people never gets me anywhere but into trouble. So I’m going to need you to get better and be able to take care of yourself again.”

“Then let’s get at it.” I thrust the now empty pot into her hands and walk past her and out the door.

Max and William are carrying one of the dead men by the arms and legs over to the hole and toss him in on top of the other two before looking at me when I storm up to them. I grab the shovel off the ground and head toward the damn flower Emily wants so badly.

“Hey, I’m not done with that,” Max says.

“Find another,” I call out over my shoulder.

Stabbing the shovel into the dirt, I dig up Emily’s precious flower. My anger—no, annoyance—no…whatever I’m feeling, diminishes when I see her running up to me with the pot in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. Her long, dark brown hair flies around her face in the light breeze, the damn thing untameable, her eyes shining through between the strands that fly across her face.

By the time she reaches me, I have the flower ready to transplant. I lean on the end of the shovel with the tip in the dirt and wait for her to stop huffing and puffing.

“How did you move so fast?” she asks between pants.

“Have to move fast to avoid rotters,” I respond, my voice void of emotion. Leaving the shovel sticking out of the ground, I kneel and help her, shoving my hands into the dirt and surrounding the flowers in the pot with more dirt, and a few more flowers that I grab just because I think they look pretty. I haven’t seen flowers this shade of amber before. There’s something comforting about it. They’ll look nice among the lavender roses.

Emily adds water to the pot, dispersing around the dirt. The way she handles it is with such care that it surprises me. It’s not something I would have expected from someone like her.

Max storms up and grabs the shovel with a huff. “You interrupted me burying bodies so you can dig up flowers? Unbelievable.” He storms off without waiting for a response, but Emily looks at me and laughs.

“Where do you want to keep it for now?” I ask, more calm now and I don’t know if it’s because of her laugh or something else. The argument we had not too long ago seems so unimportant now.

She looks around, lingering on the general store where we’ve temporarily set up camp. “Outside to get some sunlight. That way, it’s right there to take care of, too.”

“Good idea.”

She gets ready to stand up and goes to lift the pot, but it wobbles in her arms. “We might have added too much dirt.”

“Let me help.” I reach out and take the pot from her and stand up with ease. “Show me where you want it.”

She gives me a small smile and then leads the way, and I follow behind her, noticing the way she sways her hips.

My hand glides across the wood. Fallen trees, branches, moss-covered stumps, trying to find the perfect kind for the task at hand. A smile graces my lips when I find a large branch of basswood. “This will be perfect.”

William swings the axe down and chops away at the chunk I want. After a few swings, he pauses, drops the axe, and takes a swig from the water bottle. “What is it you’re going to make?”

“You’ll see.” I pick up the fallen axe and wait for William to have another go, but he holds up his hand.

“Think it’s time for a bathroom break. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t piss on any good wood,” I call after him. He waves a hand over his shoulder, either telling me he understands, or to fuck off.

The sound of leaves crunching under careful footsteps has me pausing and I look behind me to see Emily standing there, watching. I raise an eyebrow. “Enjoying the show?”

Her eyes dart to my side and her lips part to say something. I assume it’s likely a comment about my stitches, but then she glances back up at me. “We have enough firewood for a few days. There’s no reason to expend your energy doing extra work.”

Standing up straight, I let the axe fall to my side and walk up to her. She has to crane her neck to look up at me. “You followed me out here to criticize how I decide to spend my time?”

“Well, no.”

I raise an eyebrow. Not used to this version of her. I can’t figure out what she’s wanting. “Then what is it?”

She chews on her bottom lip for a moment before answering. “I only wanted to say thank you. For saving my life, I mean. I know I’ve probably seemed ungrateful, and probably a nuisance with making sure you’re alright, and I wanted to let you know that I’m not. Ungrateful, I mean. I’m absolutely a nuisance, though.”

Her lips press together and she fidgets with the hem of her shirt, twisting it so it’s lifted high enough to see a sliver of skin above her waistband. William found this shirt for her in one of the buildings here, which is a shame. I preferred her old shirt, the one that she ripped a third of the fabric off of. This one covers more of her again.

I grin at her, and she reels back like she’s been slapped, so I frown. “What is it?”

“Nothing. I’ve just…well, I didn’t know you could smile.”

My frown deepens. “I can smile.” To prove my point, I grin as wide as I’m capable of, showing a full mouth of teeth. “See?” I say, still grinning. “I can freaking smile.”

She laughs, a melodious sound that rings out. It’s a delightful sound. “You’ve got jokes, too.”

“Jokes and smiling, that’s what I’m all about.”

“Beneath the gruff exterior?”

“Deep beneath the gruff exterior.”

She laughs again and shakes her head before bending down and picking up sticks. “How much firewood are you wanting to collect?”

“None.”

“None? Then what are you doing?”

I can’t help it. I chuckle.

“Now you’re laughing too? You’re really freaking me out.”

“Guess I’m just chock full of surprises.”

“Okay, I’ll go now. Whatever you’re doing, don’t burst open your stitches or I’ll make the next re-stitch hurt even more.”

“Deal. And princess?”

She glances over her shoulder, her amber eyes looking up at me from beneath her long lashes.

“It’s a hobby I’m thinking about getting back to. Maybe I’ll show you sometime.”

For a few long moments she doesn’t say anything, and I fear I might have said too much. Then she graces me with the smile I’ve only seen her give to William. “I look forward to it.”

She’s gone almost as suddenly as she appeared, and I swing the axe on the split in the wood that William was working on right when he comes back.

“You really are impatient, aren’t you?” He grabs the axe from me before I can have another swing.

“Shit, I forgot.” I lift my shirt and am relieved to see there’s still no blood and the stitches are fine. I got lucky this time. “All clear. Emily just now told me that if I open them again, then she’s going to make the next time really hurt.”

“She was here?”

“Yeah, she thought I was the one swinging the axe around.” I laugh. “It was worth it to see her reaction. She wasn’t pleased.”

“I can imagine.” William swings the axe again until the piece of wood separates and I reach down to pick it up.

“Perfect,” I say, holding it in the air and turning it around. I have so many failed pieces in the car that I thought I’d given up on it. But then a sudden strike of inspiration hit me today, and I wanted to try something else.

“Here, you’re going to need this.” William hands over a knife, knowing that Emily took all of mine away as punishment for trying to save her and Max so soon after my ‘surgery’, as she calls it. It would normally piss me off to no end to be at the mercy of a tiny firecracker, but I’ve found myself craving more from her. Each time she does something that angers me, I want to do it again, but worse. It’s a strange sensation. “Anything else you need?”

“Keep an eye on her and don’t say shit about my stitches.”

“Can do. I’ve been thinking about hobbies myself.”

“If you do that, make sure Max keeps an eye out for rotters,” I respond before grabbing the axe from him as well and then heading back to the general store that’s become our temporary home base.

There isn’t much in here that we haven’t already ransacked, so it doesn’t take long to gather the best tools that could help me. I lay them out along the countertop like a skilled surgeon before glancing over my shoulder to see William twirling Emily around the fire, dancing. He gets along with her so effortlessly. He always knows what to say, how to act.

With a sigh, I hop onto the counter to sit, face the window, and begin carving. Alone in the dark, watching Emily smile and dance in the sunlight.

20

EMILY

Low groans lead me deeper into the woods. I came over here for a latrine, desperate for some privacy away from the constant presence of guys lurking around every corner. Instead, I frantically search for the foul stench of decay that lingers in the air, indicating nearby rotters. It’s so hard to use the bathroom in peace anymore. It’s getting ridiculous.

I reach what seems to be the location of the sound, but there isn’t anything here. Then I look up and see a rotter caught in a net hanging from a tree. “How in the world did you get up there?”

The rotter’s desperate attempts to break free intensify when I draw nearer, its bony fingers piercing through the net holes and its few teeth grinding against its gums in frustration. It’s stuck up there, unable to harm anyone. Nevertheless, the fewer rotters in this world, the better off everyone will be. William said that once, and it stuck with me.

So I climb the tree and cut it down, but before I can leap down and finish taking care of it, Buddy bounds over and finishes the job for me.

“Hey, you stole my kill.” I drop to the ground and make sure the rotter is dead. Yup, it sure is.

Buddy barks and wags his tail, looking up at me with his one eye. His lips even turn up slightly so that it looks like he’s smiling.

“You’re proud of yourself, aren’t you?” In response, he runs over and licks my face, but I pull my head back and stand, pushing my hands out. “Okay, how about we don’t do the doggy kiss thing right after you tear into a rotter, hmm? I’m going to find you a toothbrush. Maybe some doggy mouthwash, too.”

He barks.

“Shhh, don’t need to draw any more attention. Now, if you could please turn around and guard me while I do what I came out here for, that would be wonderful.” Holding out my hand, I point down and make a circular motion. He turns around and sits down. “Good boy.” He barks again and I sigh.

Once I finish my business, we head back to the makeshift camp and run into Max along the way. He looks me over, looks around us, then hooks his morning star onto his back again. “I heard barking.”

“Thanks for running to my rescue, but that was the sound of Buddy beating you to it.”

His eyes darken, which is odd because they usually light up at the thought of danger. “What happened?”

“A rotter stuck in a net in a tree. I cut it down, and Buddy stole my kill.” I pretend to pout.

He processes it for a moment and then grins before bending over and patting Buddy on the head. “Good boy. You deserve a treat, yes you do.”

Buddy licks his hand, and I scrunch my face. “You realize where his mouth has been, right? He stole my kill.” Then Buddy licks his cheek and I wince.

“He certainly did. He’s a good boy. Let’s go find you a treat, maybe something that Willie-boy would’ve liked.”

“You don’t find that weird?”

“You’re right. Maybe something Griffin would’ve liked instead. He hasn’t been pulling his weight around here.”

“That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about the rotter in the net. There might be more traps set up around here.”

He continues rubbing Buddy’s head, vying for the title of best human in his mind. “There are. I watched a rotter get strung up in a net last night when it tried to get to me. It was so much fun to watch. I wish I would have thought about these traps long ago. The people in this town were geniuses. Well, until they got the virus and disappeared, that part probably sucked for them. But it’s beneficial for us.”

Before I can say anything else, more moans reach us. My hand tightens around my knife when I realize the direction they’re coming from. “Griffin.”

Max takes off in a run, with me and Buddy following behind. We make it back to the small town and see half a dozen rotters heading for the general store where Griffin should be inside sleeping.

I run straight for them, shoving my knife through the head of the nearest rotter. The knife gets stuck in the skull, and I’m doing my best to yank it free when another rotter stumbles into me. Max swings his morning star around, embedding the spiked end into its skull.

We gain the attention of the other rotters, and they all head for us. Buddy leaps and bites at them, dragging one down onto the ground. I raise my knife, ready to fight my way out, when a sound filters through, faint and almost alien in the quiet world. I look over at Max, who’s busy spraying blood from hitting the rotters so hard. “Do you hear that too?”

The rotters turn their attention to the sky for a moment before heading away from us, down the dusty street.

A grin turns up Max’s lips, and he lets out a haughty laugh. “It’s about time. Haven’t heard that in ages.”

He follows the distracted rotters and takes them out from behind, one at a time. The music doesn’t stop. When he’s about to take out the last rotter, I place a hand on his shoulder. “Wait. We should follow it.”

Max looks at the last rotter limping, and then at me. Then he pulls out his knife and hacks off the rotter’s jaw before pushing it toward the music again. “Go for it, pet. I think this is something you’d want to see on your own, but I’ll be right here if any other creepy crawlies come slinking over.”

I give him one last look of confusion before looking at the retreating rotter.

“Come on, Buddy.” Max leads Buddy away without explaining, even though I have so many more questions. He clearly knows what it is. I’m half tempted to grab him and make him tell me, but he doesn’t act like it’s anything to worry about, so I follow the rotter toward the sound instead.

The sound is a song. Music. A harmonica. I’ve only ever heard that played in movies and on television, never in real life. It’s strange and of place, but it sounds nice. It has a good rhythm. I grip my knife, ready to use it.

We only travel a couple buildings away when the rotter scratches along the brick wall of a building and looks up. I follow its gaze and see something—no, someone—up on the roof. I can’t make out who it is, but I have a pretty good guess. Shoving my knife into the back of its skull, I step back before the rotter hits the ground.

Looking up, I see him. Blond hair tied back, and one knee bent while he sits on the roof leaning against a chimney looking out over the horizon, harmonica to his lips. William had mentioned his love for music in his previous life, before the dead rose, but I didn’t think he would ever get the chance to play again. It’s a dangerous hobby to have. Still, it’s nice. Unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. He strings together the notes beautifully, and before I can think any more about it, I’m already finding a ladder and climbing up the side of the building.

I scramble onto the roof with caution. Feeling the slight give of a loose shingle under my weight, I adjust my position to avoid any mishaps. The last thing I need is to fall through and get hurt. I don’t want to imagine how much fun Griffin would have getting his revenge by stitching me up.

With an agile crawl, I make my way across the roof, a wide smile forming on my face as I join William. Pausing his playing, he flashes me a wide grin before resuming the song. While his gaze is on the distant horizon, I can’t help but be captivated by the rhythmic movement of his throat as he hits each note.

When he finishes, he lowers the harmonica. “I saw the rotters moving toward Griffin. I wasn’t sure if they could get inside, but you and Max got there first. This was the best way I could think of to help. The way I could protect my people.”

“The music was beautiful, William. Sometimes the most beautiful things can become the more lethal than the most dangerous weapons.”

He grins down at me. “Like you?”

I smile. “You basically said I’m a work of art. I’ll take the compliment. But are you done playing?”

His gaze lowers to me and turns playful. “You didn’t come up here to tell me to cut it out now that the rotters are dead? I could end up attracting even more.”

“Of course not. I would love to hear more. But if you’re worried about attracting rotters, why not play inside, somewhere harder to hear?”

His body tenses. “I’m not so good with enclosed spaces.”

Realization hits me. “Is that why you always sleep outside by the fire?” He nods. “No way. So, all this time when there were three tents set up, I could have had one all to myself?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I thought you knew.”

“No. That Griffin, I’m going to kill him.”

“Over a tent?”

“Absolutely.” Shaking my head, I change the subject back to music and decide to deal with Griffin later. He had me believing that there weren’t enough tents to have my own. “Wait…you don’t even sleep in a tent? At all? Do you even use it for anything?”

He shakes his head and at first I think he’s going to remain silent, but he doesn’t. “I change clothes in there. Well, since we brought you back.”

Now he’s silent. He looks uncomfortably down at his harmonica, rubbing his thumbs along the worn exterior.

That’s alright. I drop the subject. If he’s not ready to talk about it, then I’ll respect that. “I remember you mentioning it a while back. Is this the first time you’ve picked it up since?”

“It is. It’s kind of like riding a bike. I didn’t forget anything like I thought I might.”

“Why did you choose now to start again? There are other ways you could have made noise if you weren’t going to run over and hack and slash.”

He thinks it over for a moment, tapping his fingers along the harmonica while he does. “I guess I was just inspired to.”

“Is it hard to learn?”

“Not as hard as anything else.”

“Do you think you could teach me someday?”

His smile grows wider than I’ve ever seen it, and all the tension seems to leave his body. “Absolutely. Whenever you’re ready.”

Looping my hands around his arm, I lean my head on his shoulder and he gets back to playing another song after dropping a kiss on my forehead. Even a bird somewhere in a nearby tree sings along, making me smile. I close my eyes and listen.

That’s disgusting.

I scrunch my nose in disgust and look away. Max laughs. “Well, don’t think we need to worry about feeding Buddy. He’s doing better than all of us.”

Max bends down until he’s sitting on his heels and gives Buddy a rewarding pat on the head while he’s licking every morsel from his mouth. “Well, at least we know animals can’t get infected.”

I sigh and look at the dead squirrel before averting my gaze again. “Yeah, but can they spread the virus?”

Max lets out a laugh. “Doubt it. Buddy Boy here has been licking my face every chance he gets. If he could carry the virus, I’d be a rotting corpse by now.”

“That’s not funny,” I scold.

William appears behind us with some gloves. “Aw man. Did he already eat it? I was getting ready to prepare it and put it over the fire.”

Max stands and claps his hand on William’s shoulder. “No need. That dog is doing better at this apocalypse life than we are. We should take notes.”

The bandage on William’s arm catches my eye. “I need to change your dressing, anyway. I’ll go find Griffin and then meet back at the general store.”

“You’re going to leave Buddy’s dinner table before he’s finished?” Max asks with a faux crestfallen look.

“Yes. Feel free to join him, though, Mr. I Like Getting Licked By A Dog With Rotter Breath.” I push past him and head back to where I hope Griffin is. None of us has strayed away from the town yet, but it makes me nervous. Things are getting too comfortable here. Too safe. It feels too much like back home, minus the security wall with the patrol and more people bustling around, going about their daily tasks.

Reaching the general store, I pause outside the door and bend down to inspect the pot of lavender roses with a smile. They look freshly watered. They seem to thrive in the pot Griffin found. It’s the perfect size for them, too.

This is the last thing I expected from that man. I never would have guessed he’d have a side with kindness. He must keep it hidden deep down. Really deep down.

Standing, I push open the door to the general store where I hope to find Griffin, and I’m right. He’s sitting on the counter focusing on something in his hands, but when he looks up and spots me walking toward him, he quickly moves to hide whatever it is he’s working on. I should be suspicious. Normally, I would be. But I’m surprised to find that I’m not. “I need to check your stitches.”

He opens his knees and draws me in between them, pulling my hands to rest on his thighs while I look up at him. My fingers brush against the bare skin of his thigh through the ripped shorts to his stab wound. The bandage that was there is gone and all I can feel is scar tissue. “I haven’t opened them again.”

“That’s great, but I still need to check them out.”

“Is this a ploy to get my shirt off?”

My face scrunches up for the second time in about five minutes. “Well, yeah, how else am I supposed to see how it’s healing?” These guys can be so confusing.

His head tilts to the side and a small grin plays on his lips before the door opens again and draws his gaze over my head to someone standing behind me. “Did you fuck up your stitches?” William asks.

Griffin’s light-hearted demeanor disappears, and he frowns, his hands squeezing mine. “I absolutely did not. I wish everyone would stop assuming that.”

I pull away and motion to the couch. “Sit down and take off your shirt.” They both take off their shirts, revealing toned, muscular torsos, and heat creeps up my neck. “I meant—nevermind.”

They each take a seat on the couch, with Griffin laying over half of it, the side with the stitches facing upward. I pull out the first aid kit, get everything set up how I want it, and then face them, trying to decide which to work on first. Deciding William will be the quickest, I kneel in front of him and undo the wrap on his forearm while Griffin’s gaze bores into the side of my head, watching my every move. I try to tune it out and ignore the fact that the heat under my skin keeps getting hotter.

“You don’t need to keep tending to us like this,” William says, drawing my gaze up to meet his pale blue eyes.

“You’re hurt. And neither of you are doing anything to monitor your wounds. What would you do without me?” I regret the question as soon as I voice it. I don’t want another fight right now.

“Luckily for all of us, we don’t have to know,” Griffin says, his voice rough. Then it softens. “Thank you for your help, though. You really don’t need to.”

“Yeah, you could have let us die and run off on your own,” William adds.

“That’s not funny.”

“Didn’t say I was joking.”

I wipe down his cut with a damp cloth and apply some more ointment before grabbing more gauze. Then I set it back down before scowling up at him. “This is looking so much better. I don’t think you need to wrap it up again, see how it does like this for a while. And I could never walk away from someone who needs my help. There, you’re good to go.”

“Thank you, Em.”

The door opens, and Max pops his head inside. “Hey, one of you free to help with some rotters that are stumbling this way? It’s not many, but I’m feeling kind enough to share the fun. Although Buddy makes the best sidekick out of any of you. He does more with one eye than some of you do with two.”

William stands and pulls out his knife before heading for the door. “I’m on it.”

“Don’t let my dog get hurt,” I call out.

“If I would’ve known about the shirtless party, I would have joined in here instead. Let them take the town. This looks more fun.” Max grins and William shoves him through the opening and closes the door behind them.

When they disappear, I move to kneel in front of Griffin, who’s still watching the door. “They’ve got it handled. You’re not allowed to join.”

He turns his gaze on me, and I’m taken back by the longing I see there. He must really want to go out there and fight. “Doctor’s orders?”

I grin up at him. “Princess’s orders.”

His face lights up. “You don’t hate the nickname anymore?”

“It’s growing on me.” I shrug and begin inspecting the stitches. “Though I must say that I’m surprised. I expected you to burst these open.”

“Are you disappointed you don’t get to stab me even harder?”

“A little.”

He reaches down and tickles my ribs, throwing me into a fit of laughter. I end up with my back on the floor and Griffin hovering above me. “Okay, okay, mercy.” Buddy barks and growls from outside, pawing at the door. “You better stop or my dog will break in here and maul you. I don’t think I’ll have enough stitches for that.”

Griffin relents, placing his palms against the floor on either side of my head, and looks down at me. His chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. We’re both panting, and I realize I’m pressing my hands against his bare chest. It’s a nice chest, too. William’s chest was nice to sleep on, and now I wonder how Griffin’s would be. Which is odd, considering that until recently, I thought he resented me.

My hand moves up to trace my favorite scar on the side of his face, and he doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch. He only stares down at me. My chest rises and falls with each breath, less so as my breathing slows back down to a normal rate the longer I look at him like this.

“We’ve got a pretty good thing going here in this town.”

“Yeah,” I agree.

“No dregs, and barely any rotters.”

“Other than those guys in the bar,” I remind him.

“Lots of supplies. Plenty of protection. Shelter. Enough trees to keep the fires going for a few lifetimes.”

“All true.” I draw out the words, wondering where he’s going with this. I keep tracing his scar with the tip of my finger. Back and forth.

“Once everything is over, do you think you could see yourself hanging around here with us?”

My finger stops at the edge of his cheek near his ear. “I have someone waiting for me. A friend I still need to find medicine for, and then get back to and help. She’s still counting on me.”

“She can come, too. We can start our own little colony.”

There it is, the thing I’ve been dreading most. I so badly want to tell him I already have one, and that all three of them can come back with me, but I can’t. They’ll kill them on site and then they’ll kill me for bringing them there. I can’t risk it. Not after the last time I let someone in. The worst part is that I can’t even tell them about it, the rule I stupidly agreed to while we buried our friends.

“It’s an interesting idea,” I hedge.

He breaks eye contact and pulls back, looking down at his side and the thin trickle of blood. “This doesn’t count. Technically, it was your fault.”

“You did that all on your own.” I grin when I sit up to pull out the needle and thread, but swallow hard when he meets me with a challenging look and lays down on the couch, exposing his side to me.

“Go ahead, then. I can take anything you want to give me.”

21

WILLIAM

Spending the morning digging through piles of clutter has finally proven to not be a waste of time when my fingers close around a bottle of vegetable oil. I set it inside of my bag along with the sugar, baking powder, and salt I’d acquired. Now all I need is to find a waffle iron and figure out how to get fresh eggs, and I’ll be able to make Emily her waffles.

I can’t believe it took me this long to even think about searching the town for these things. Max had checked the drugstore and brought out the canned goods that we’ve been eating the past few days, but I didn’t even think about what else might be in here until now. Things he didn’t think to grab.

We need to keep an eye out for chickens. I know we won’t be in this town for much longer, with Griffin getting better every day and Emily still having a mission we’re all going to help her complete, but maybe, just maybe, we could do something with this town. If we could find chickens and keep them here, then we could have fresh eggs to make waffles every single morning.

As long as Emily comes back to us.

I think about yesterday when she climbed up onto the roof to sit next to me while I played. It was the first time since the dead rose that I put my lips to the harmonica and made music. The most surprising of all is how much Emily liked it. She even wants me to teach her how to play it someday, and now I haven’t been able to stop thinking about which song I’m going to teach her first. And if I can find another harmonica, we could play together. The thought makes my stomach flip.

Maybe someday I’ll be able to teach her how to play a guitar, too, if we ever find one. A world of music could be ours again.

I close up my bag with my findings and try to think about where to hide them. Probably in the bar next to the general store. No one has gone in there since the incident.

On my way back toward the front of the town that we’ve made into our home base, I stop in at the bakery. The most foul stench reaches my nose when I open the door and I almost double over.

All the food inside has gone bad. This building will take some extra care if we ever wanted to clean it out and use it for something. There’s a diner farther down the road that might have a waffle iron, but that place will have the same issue with spoiled food.

Well, someone has to do it.

Setting down my bag of finds outside the door, I take a deep breath of fresh air before venturing inside. I move as quickly as I can, gathering all the spoiled food together that I can fit into the first trash can I find and then rush out the door again, gasping for air.

Most of this can be dumped into the fires for fuel, so I set off toward the fires back behind the general store first. I stop and listen when I hear Emily’s laugh. She’s playing with Buddy. Finding that dog has been good for her. I wonder if there’s a pet shop in this town. We’ll have to explore it before we leave.

I unload the food into the fires as quickly as I can before the stench can reach anyone else, and notice that the fires back here as low on wood, so I add some more and then head into the trees to refill the piles. With how many fires we have going around here, we go through wood pretty quick.

When my arms are full of as many sticks as I can carry, I turn around to head back when my foot steps on a soft piece of ground and I go down.

The landing hurts, except for part of it that was cushioned by a soft body. I scramble to my feet and look around. The sun barely reaches down here, but I can make out the stirring forms of a few rotters that I seem to have woken up. They reach their hands out and gnash their teeth at me. Flesh falls from their bones when they move. I raise my hand to stab the one closest one to me when I realize I must’ve dropped my knife. I glance up and see how high it is. It’ll be quite the climb. I shut my eyes for a moment to gather my senses and then pull out the gun on my hip and end the three rotters with one bullet each, thankful I still carry the one we took from the dregs in the pub.

My breaths quicken, but I force my mind not to venture back to the day when the dead rose. Instead, I look up again and study the dirt walls surrounding me. The hole I’ve fallen into is maybe five feet wide and several feet deep. Really deep. Way deeper than my height. The top looks so far away from down here and the longer I stare at it, the farther away it seems to get.

Dizziness. I press a hand against the dirt wall to steady myself. The rotting stench invades my nose. I can’t stay here.

Taking a deep breath, I grab onto anything and everything I can and climb. My hands and feet slip. I try again.

The dirt crumbles beneath my touch.

The top of the hole seems to get farther and farther away, even when I should be getting closer.

My breathing intensifies.

I swallow hard, wishing I had brought some water. When did it get so hot?

My breaths come out ragged as I hyperventilate.

Images flash across my mind. The underground bunker with the broken ladder. The radio warnings while losing signal. My friends. Their screams and cries as they became infected, and then their gurgles when I ended them before they could infect me. The stench of their rotting bodies. The thought that it might be the end for me, too. The overwhelming darkness that I couldn’t climb out of for over two-hundred days.

Something falls to the dirt in front of me, but I can’t see anything other than the still forms of my friends begging me to help them.

Warm, soft hands press against my cheeks, a voice that sounds muffled and far away.

The vague scent of strawberries cutting through the stench of rot.

The darkness fades. Not completely, but enough to see the comforting amber eyes staring up at me, and the beautiful pink lips forming words I can’t make out. I think she’s saying my name. She looks worried. She shouldn’t look this worried. I can fix it if I can figure out what’s bothering her.

The passing days.

My dead friends.

Alone. Alone. Alone.

Her lips press against mine and the world stops.

Her fingers curl in, lightly scratching my cheeks, and the empty forms of my friends disappear.

Her body presses against mine and the darkness fades.

My hands cup her face, one sliding back to grip her hair. We break our kiss and the sounds come back. The birds in the trees above. Footsteps pounding the earth, getting closer. Our breaths coming out in pants and mingling in the air between us.

“William,” she whispers. I can hear her now. Not clearly, but she’s coming through. “Come back to me, William.”

“How did you get here?” I tip my head down until our foreheads are touching, her gentle hands still on the sides of my face.

“The gunshots. I heard them and came running. You were the only one I didn’t see. Then I saw this hole caved in. I screamed your name, but you couldn’t hear me, so I jumped down.”

“Now you’re stuck, too.” Guilt gnaws at me. She’s trapped down here now and it’s all because of me. The only person who’s life I care about, other than my two best friends. Another life I’ve ruined.

“Stay with me, William.” Her hands press against my cheeks, applying pressure and grounding me. “We’re not stuck. Griffin and Max will get us out. And even if they don’t, you and I could work together to get out of here. We’re not trapped here, William, I promise you that. You’re not alone.”

Her words touch a part of me I didn’t know could still be reached. Somewhere deep inside of me. My eyes flutter closed and I breathe her in. The scent of the living overpowering the stench of the dead. She’s here with me. I’m not alone anymore.

Something hangs alongside the wall beside us. A rope. “Take it,” she says. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“I’m not leaving you down here.” My eyes pop open and meet hers. She looks as stubborn as I feel.

“Neither am I,” she whispers.

“We threw down the rope, someone can climb,” Griffin’s voice calls from above.

“Find a ladder,” Emily calls up to them without breaking eye contact.

“We didn’t see a ladder,” Max adds.

“Then make one,” she says. “We’re climbing out together.”

Minutes pass. Maybe hours. I don’t know, time means nothing. I’ve got Emily in my arms, fighting away my demons. All that matters is her. Her mere presence pushes back images she’ll never see. Images that have haunted me every day since the dead rose.

Eventually, two ladders appear beside us. One sturdy and metal, and the other handmade with ropes and pieces of wood. I make Emily take the more sturdy one and we climb out together. She refuses to take a step faster than me and I realize that this woman jumped into a dark hole of the unknown solely because I was in trouble. No one’s done that since Griffin did all those months ago.

Now, as I sit by the fire while she leans with her back against my chest, and my arms around her, I realize something monumental.

I’m no longer alone.

“How are you holding up?”

Griffin looks up from where he’s leaning over the counter, studying something. “My stitches are perfectly fine,” he growls, making me smile. Emily has been giving him shit for busting his stitches and his reaction has been worth it every time one of us asks.

“You’re lucky we had that first aid kit. I can’t imagine how she would’ve tried to fix you up otherwise.”

“Yeah, yeah. Did you come in here for something other than giving me shit? Are you and Max on a schedule now?”

I grin and shake my head. “No, but that’s a good idea. Let me go find Max.”

“William.”

The grin falls from my face and I turn serious. “I want to talk with you about finding the insulin for Emily’s friend, and what might happen after.”

Griffin straightens up and crosses his arms, an unreadable look on his face. “That’s a good question, and something I’ve had some thoughts on as well. What is it you have in mind, exactly?”

“Look, I know that we all care for her. That’s clear as day. Even your stubborn ass, so you can’t deny it.”

“Are you going somewhere with this or did you only come in here to insult me?”

One corner of my lips turns up. “Figured that wouldn’t surprise you. I’d like to propose a motion to let her stay, and not as a hostage.”

He scoffs. “She stopped being a hostage a long time ago. She just hasn’t realized it yet.”

“You’ll let her go?”

His face hardens. “If that’s what she wants, then I won’t stop her, no matter how hard that might be.” He lets out a small laugh. “I can’t, even if I try. But she’ll stay, and her friend, too.” He grins bigger than I’ve seen him grin in a long time. It’s an odd look on him. He almost looks scarier than Max. “We can finally start our own colony, William. We’re not the last of the decent-assholes left in the world, she’s proof of that. There might even be others, but we’d have to vet them first.”

“How do you propose doing that, handcuffing them to yourself during a probationary period?”

“Oh, you’re funny. I don’t know when you got your humor back, but keep it up.” His comment throws me by surprise, but he’s not wrong. “We can build a wall around the town to keep out rotters, and have someone patrolling to keep out the dregs. We can search the area for any other traps that might still be up and rework them to our advantage.”

“You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think lately.”

What he says sounds good. Almost too good to be true. Then again, maybe I’m so used to everyone leaving that I expect it. But maybe this time someone will stay. Maybe she’ll stay.

“A good way to convince her to stay would be to help her find her friend’s insulin.” His ideas give me hope, but I can’t let him forget about the most important thing. The reason we’ve traveled all this way.

“About that.” Griffin uncrosses his arms and moves back to the counter, beckoning me over. There’s a large map spread out. It looks well used. “I found this shoved in the back of a drawer, figured it could come in handy. There are a few places on it that could have the potential to have what Emily’s looking for. I want us to head out soon to check it out, preferably tomorrow. If it’s successful, I want to let Emily go.”

“You what?” So soon? I was expecting to have more time with her, at least more than a day. Although I can’t imagine any amount of time that would be enough.

“Let her go. Give her the choice to stay so she doesn’t feel like a prisoner anymore. I’ll drive her as far as she’ll let me and then trust that she’ll be okay and that she’ll come back. I’ve made that mess and this is me trying to fix it. She’ll come back to us and stay.”

“How certain are you of that?”

“There’s no reason not to. Like you said, we’ve all formed a connection. None of us are blind to what she’s been forming with each of us. We know it’s not normal, but our lives aren’t normal. I don’t know what her life is like where she left her friend, but with us she’ll have food, shelter, and protection. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have any of that where she came from.”

After talking over some of Griffin’s ideas to start our own colony with the four or five of us, and deciding on the first location to check for the insulin, we decide to get started first thing in the morning. I can’t wait to tell Emily.

22

EMILY

The flowers that Griffin and I dug up and planted look like they’re thriving, and I can’t wait to see the lavender roses at their fullest. They’re already beautiful, but they’re going to be stunning.

“Everything still good?” Griffin asks from behind me, and I stand up and face him with a smile.

“Everything is perfect. Though I’m wondering if we should bring them inside for a little while.”

“Why would we do that when we’re getting ready to leave soon?”

My eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

A radiant grin lights up his face, his normally empty eyes sparkling. I don’t know why he’s so smiley lately, but I like it. I enjoy seeing him happy. “First thing in the morning. I found a map and there are some nearby places we can check out for your friend’s insulin.”

“Your stitches⁠—”

“Are fine. I’m doing better than you give me credit for, princess. The rotter herd should be long gone by now so we can clear out any car out there that we want to take. You’re no longer putting your mission on hold because of me. We’re doing this.”

“We’re really doing it? Leaving in the morning?” It almost sounds too good to be true. If we would have wound up here the first day I’d met them, I would have left in a heartbeat. But after getting to know them, and then everything they’ve done for me, there was no way I could leave when one of them was so hurt. Seeing him lying there unconscious and so helpless was harder than I thought it could be. And I hate his stupid face for making me care about his life like that.

“As soon as the sun rises. You need to get back to help your friend. I don’t want to keep you from that. I’ll drive you as far as you’ll let me, and I won’t force myself past that.” His short, dark brown, disheveled hair falls into his eyes when he tilts his head forward, following my movements.

I do a slow walk toward him, grinning from ear to ear. “You really know how to make a hostage happy.”

Something flashes in his eyes. They’re no longer empty. Instead, they’re full of…I can’t tell what, but they’re full of something. And they’re locked on me. “You’re not a hostage, Emily. You haven’t been for quite some time. I want you to stay, more than anything.” His voice cracks and he wets his lips. “But more importantly, I want you to want to stay. Do you want to be here with me? With us?”

My heart elates and pangs at the same time. This is something I’ve thought about so much. It’s all I’ve been able to think about the last few days. They’ve made me feel more safe and cared for than I’ve felt in two hundred and seventy-five days. I don’t want to leave something like that.

My voice drops to a whisper. “Right now, I can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else.”

I’m close to him. Close enough for him to reach out and grab, and he realizes it, too, because his hands touch behind my elbows and pull me closer to him, his touch gentle but urgent. His warmth surrounds me in the cool evening air and I’m enveloped in a sense of safety. My mind is at war with my heart and I know it won’t end well, but I can’t seem to pull myself away. I’m magnetized to him. And to Max, and to William. I’ve made quite the mess here and I have no clue how to fix it, or if I even want to fix it. I’m tired of always doing what I feel like I have to do. It’s exhausting. I want him, all of them, and I don’t want to hide that.

My hands press along his abdomen, feeling the taut muscles beneath the shirt. I’m careful of the wound on his side, but I want to touch him, to feel him. My hands slide up his torso, to his chest, where his heart beats erratically beneath my palm, almost matching my own.

He leans down, tilting his head. His finger moves beneath my chin, lifting it up. My eyes flutter closed when I lean in, too, my heart beating so hard that it’ll hurt if we don’t. My lips barely brush his when gravel crunches beneath heavy footsteps, shattering the bubble we’ve built around ourselves in the moment. “Well, I’ll be damned, they’re alive.”

I pull back and spin around in Griffin’s arms. He grabs hold of me, his body going rigid when we face the men who snuck up on us. I practically spit out my question. “Who are you?”

The one on the right grins while still chewing gum. I can see it pressed between his teeth at the side of his mouth. “Sorry to frighten you little missy, but we’re looking for our friends.”

On instinct, I look around, expecting more people to be surrounding us. It takes a minute for my brain to catch up and realize who he’s talking about. “Who?”

“They headed this way a couple of days ago and never came back. Three guys who can be assholes on occasion, but are mostly harmless. You didn’t happen to see them now, did you?”

Oh shit.

Griffin’s fingertips dig into my hip above my waistband, holding me close to him as if to tell me it’s going to be alright. I look around and spot Max watching us from where he’s crouched behind a tree with a knife in one hand and his morning star in the other. William is watching from around the corner of another building, a gun in hand and ready to fire.

“You know what, I think we saw them in passing, if they were your friends we saw. They were on their way out, though. I’m sorry we can’t be of more help,” I lie.

The one chewing the gum frowns. “Interesting. I didn’t tell you anything about them and you immediately knew who I was talking about.”

“Three assholes is the only descriptor you need,” I say, my words flat.

He grins. Not a cheery grin, but one that sends a chill down my spine. “Are you alone here in this town? Seems like a nice place.”

Griffin’s grip tightens on me and I can feel him practically vibrating, struggling with the restraint to throw me behind him. I place my hand over his hand that’s on my hip in reassurance.

“There are others. Our friends are also around here somewhere. Where did you travel from?” I try to change the subject.

“A nearby school we came across not too long ago. Decent setup.”

Hope blooms in my chest, and I can’t help how it bleeds into my words. “Do you have food? Supplies? Medication?”

The man laughs. “There’s all sorts of stuff there. We were only passing through, using it to rest up for a few days, so I don’t exactly have a full spiel for you. Was waiting on our friends to get back first before moving on, but we got impatient. There’s already a large group there. It’s not our vibe. They’ve got rules and all.” He rolls his eyes as though following rules is the most tiresome thing imaginable. “But they seem to be loaded with all kinda of shit. You’re welcome to come check it out. We’ll even escort you.”

Griffin’s chest vibrates against my back when he speaks. “We might take you up on that. The high school?”

The man grins, showing off his gum again and looking at the man behind me for the first time. “You know it?”

“That was a place I was going to check out soon,” Griffin admits.

“Imagine that. It’s a small world, after all. So will it be just the two of you, then? Are you an item or something?”

Griffin’s grip on my hip turns painful, but I ignore the sting. “Yes.”

The man’s grin widens. “I see. So are you also with the other two men hiding almost out of sight with their weapons drawn? One behind the tree to my left, and the other beside the building to my right.”

I’ve never heard a man growl before, but it’s the only way I can describe the sound that comes out of Griffin. Even his body vibrates.

“Relax, man, we mean no harm. I have no interest in any of you. Your men can come out now. You clearly have us outnumbered.”

Max is the first to reach us, swinging his morning star around with his maniacal grin. William has his gun lowered by his thigh, but I know he can take them both out in a blink if needed. These two strangers don’t scare me because I’m surrounded by the three most fearsome men I know. If anything, I feel sorry for the two newcomers. I relax against Griffin and he squeezes my hip in response.

“What type of supplies are up there at the school?” I ask. If we’re going into a building full of possibly dangerous people, I need to make sure it’s worth it first. Find out how much this guy knows. I learned my lesson at the last dreg hideout about rushing into these things.

The man with the gum tilts his head to the side. “Is there something specific you’re looking for?”

“Insulin.”

“Yeah, I believe there might be some newly acquired insulin. I haven’t laid eyes on it myself, only heard about it, but we’ll have to ask the guy who brought it in. He’s protective of his things, but it’s worth a shot.”

Hope rises within me. Finally, the answer I’ve been looking for. The insulin for Zoey is practically within my grasp. “Take me there.”

Griffin growls out his words. “We’ll all go.”

The man grins. “Of course. And maybe you four could keep an eye out for our missing buddies along the way. Remember, three assholes. Hard to miss.”

“Three assholes. Got it.” I keep my face passive and swallow hard. They seem like decent enough guys. I don’t enjoy lying to them in order to get something out of them, but I don’t have much of a choice. Having humanity at the end of the world is a real inconvenience. “We’ll help where we can.”

It doesn’t take long to pack up our things, considering that we really didn’t have that much. Most of our belongings are still in the car…at least, I think they are. As long as no one else came along and scavenged it. At that thought, I reach up and grasp the compass that’s resting beneath my shirt, grateful that William got it back for me. I can’t imagine if I would have lost it forever. It’s my last link to my family.

“Should we put out the fires? Rotters might come in if we do,” William asks.

Griffin makes sure the two men are out of earshot before answering. “We’ll be back. They’re already low. They might burn out while we’re gone, anyway. The school is only a few miles’ walk.”

“We’re really going to trust these guys?” Max asks, watching the two men in question like a hawk.

“Of course not,” Griffin says. “But they can lead us to what we need and get us inside without a fight. We’ll figure out the rest along the way, but right now, they’re our best bet. Doesn’t mean we should let down our guard.”

William checks to make sure the magazine is full before loading it back into his gun. “Absolutely not.”

“Please don’t kill them until we at least get inside,” I plead.

Max kisses my cheek and then walks away without a word.

“Max?”

He checks on his myriad of weapons.

“Damnit Max, promise me.”

He turns around with a grin. “Nah.”

“Hey, isn’t that Garret’s boot?” The man who isn’t chewing gum walks over to a dark object on the ground and picks it up. “Yeah, that’s the burn mark on the toe from when you pushed him into the fire.”

Max glances at me before gripping his morning star and facing the two men. “Yeah, that’s not a promise I can make, pet. Ever.”

The man chewing the gum turns an angry look on us. “Thought you only saw our friends on the way out.”

“We did. On their way out of life, that is. Guess one of them lost a shoe when I was dragging their bodies out to deal with them.”

“Max,” I say through gritted teeth, but it’s too late. He’s made it so much worse.

The man pulls out a gun and Griffin pushes me back behind him.

“They attacked first,” I call out.

“And let me guess, you finished it?” The man spits out his gum and lifts the gun. A shot fires and I grip the back of Griffin’s shirt as panic surges through me. Seconds bleed into an eternity. No one moves. I peer around Griffin’s large frame to look around at my men, terror freezing me in place until I see the man drop his gun to the ground, a bright red liquid coating his white shirt in the dim evening light before he, too, falls to the ground, his gum falling out of his mouth and rolling across the dirt.

“What did you do?” The second man barely reaches for his own gun before Max is on him with a knife to his throat. William keeps his gun raised.

“Unless you want to join your friends in their crowding grave, you’ll get us into that school,” Max demands, his voice threatening. He presses the knife against his throat until a small bead of blood slides down his throat and he whimpers.

“Fine, whatever you want, please don’t kill me. I didn’t even know those guys all that well. Seriously. I only met them a few days ago. The only reason I stuck with them was to survive.” A wet spot appears on the front of his pants and I feel like this one won’t be too much of a threat.

Max grins.

23

MAX

Holding this knife to a man’s throat makes me feel powerful. Invincible. Like nobody will ever hurt me again. The only downside is I can’t kill him. At least not yet.

It’s an awkward walk, and only when I accidentally put a nick in his neck do I reposition myself and remove it, holding it out toward him instead while Griffin and I walk along either side of him with Emily behind us and William behind her. Buddy trots alongside her with his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth like we’re on a midday stroll. Except the sun is setting and we’ve got a brand new hostage leading us into a possibly dangerous situation. We have a lot of trust riding on this man, and I don’t like it. If I still had that grenade, we could throw it at the school and destroy everyone inside, making it easier for us to gain entry. Except that would also destroy everything inside, so…maybe not a good plan. Still, I miss that grenade. It was a beauty when it went off, though.

I keep chancing a glance back at Emily to make sure she’s still there, even though I know she is.

We dressed her in one of our oversized hoodies with the hood pulled over her head to hide her hair, and her small hands hide in the large front pocket. After the issues we’ve had with shitty men, we’re not taking any chances. I even asked Griffin for his handcuffs, but he caught on and refused to let me handcuff her back in the town to wait for us. I don’t understand why. It was a brilliant plan. Oh well.

When I look back at her again, my gaze roams across her body from head to toe. I tried to get her to wear a pair of pants I’d pulled off one of the dead guys, but she refused to. So then I put them on myself and she tried on mine, but they keep falling down. I hope her girly legs don’t give her away, because she’s so difficult to dress in a way that makes her unnoticeable. The rest of us have on hats or the hoods from our jackets to cover our faces, all of us dressed in black, the best form of disguise we could come up with in the moment. Except for Emily, with her perfect, tanned legs on display. My pants grow tight. Dammit.

“You doing all right back there, pet?”

“Yes,” she responds. I’m about to ask her more questions when my new hostage stops.

“Through there,” he says, pointing straight ahead. “There will be someone on patrol. We’ll need to get by them first.”

“Why don’t we go straight on through?” I reach behind me for Debbie.

“We don’t want to raise alarm before we can even get inside,” Griffin says from the man’s other side. “Let’s try to reason with them first. We don’t always have to go straight for blood.”

“Fun killer.”

Griffin rolls his eyes. I don’t see him do it, because it’s gotten dark and all, but I can feel it. “You don’t have to kill everyone you come across.”

“I didn’t kill you.” I push the man forward to continue leading us there. Then, before I move, I turn to Emily. “You all strapped in with those weapons I love on you?”

She nods her head beneath the hood and shows me her concealed weapons, including the knife necklace she wears beneath the hoodie, and even lifting her clothing to show the knife I hand carved snuggled inside her bra holster. I realize the man has turned to look at her, too, and I smack his head forward with a snarl. “Look at her again and I’ll shove this knife into your gut and then storm the school, my damn self.”

I wait until William has finished helping her lower the hoodie back down and then I move our little group forward.

We break the tree line and I see two men walking back and forth, securing the perimeter like the guy said they would be. I suppose I should probably learn his name. After all, we are going into the unknown, possibly facing a threat. He might even die.

Nah, I don’t need to know his name.

I lift my chin in a signal for Griffin to take it from here, and I fall back with Emily, sending William on ahead. I stop her and lift her hood back enough to see her amber eyes glistening in the pale moonlight. They look worried. Oh, nothing is wrong, pet.

“Are you worried?” I ask.

She thinks it over for a second before breathing out a “No.”

I grin. She acts fearless, but I know she’s likely shaking in her over-worn boots we’d snagged from a rotter. “Don’t hesitate to use those knives. Remember, stab first and don’t look back.”

“You give the best pep talk,” she says with a grin of her own. “But I don’t want to kill someone who doesn’t give me a reason to. They might not be dregs, or even the slightest bit dangerous, we don’t know yet. They deserve the benefit of the doubt. Like I gave you when we first met.”

Griffin laughs at that, but he doesn’t say anything I know he’s burning to say.

Leaning in, I kiss the corner of her mouth. Only the corner, though, because any more and we wouldn’t make it into that school and my new hostage would get a show. “That’s fine. I’ll kill everyone for you.”

Before she can respond, I pull her hood back up to shadow her face and walk beside her, following the rest of the group.

“Gregory?” One guard greets my hostage.

Oh, Gregory, that’s right. I remember him saying his name now. That’s a shame. I don’t normally care to know the names of people I’m doing to kill.

“We’re back.” Gregory doesn’t even bother explaining the four strangers with him and the absence of his four friends. Not to mention the one-eyed dog trotting happily by our side that wasn’t with him before. How ignorant are these guards? If Griffin follows through with turning our new town into a colony, these guys will not be guarding it.

“Welcome back.” The second guard pushes open the gate to the school property. Well, this is interesting. We could have killed him earlier and masqueraded as him and no one would have ever known, because these people don’t even recognize anyone who comes and goes. Hindsight and all that. Oh well, next time.

Our small group walks by and I let Emily go in front of me. To keep an eye on her, and not only for the view.

When we enter the building, there’s a small group of people huddled off in a corner. I can’t make any of them out and I can’t hear what they’re saying, but something feels off. Something tells me I should grab Emily and make a run for it. The medicine be damned. The others can find the insulin for her, but we shouldn’t be here.

My heart races and a thin layer of perspiration coats my skin. I don’t understand it.

The feeling hits me like a pair of nun chucks, but I shake it off. Which is odd, because I haven’t felt this level of unease in months. Looking over at Emily, she seems fine. Everyone else seems fine. I don’t know what my reservation is, but she needs this more than I need to run out of here, so I’ll do everything in my power to make sure this goes smoothly. For her.

Debbie might not drink tonight, but I’ll feed her tomorrow. Even if I have to come back here and face this unease alone.

24

EMILY

My nerves are electric. I’m afraid to get my hopes up in case I get let down again, but Gregory said he’s certain there’s insulin here, so I want to trust that he’s telling the truth and not leading us into a trap.

We have no clue what kind of people these are. We don’t know if they’re dangerous dregs, or normal survivors forming a colony. I’ve kept my head down in case they’re the former, but curiosity keeps me wanting to look up.

We stop moving, and I glance up enough to see Gregory turning white when we reach another group of people. My fingers close around the small knife in my pocket. William moves closer to me, his arm brushing against mine.

“Gregory? Didn’t think we’d see you again. You brought visitors?” There’s hesitation in the woman’s voice, but she looks kind. I breathe out a small sigh of relief. This is a sign that they’re not like any dregs we’ve encountered before. That type never has kindness.

“Claire, yes, I came across this group of people. We might have something that they desperately need,” Gregory says.

“Like what?”

“A friend of theirs has diabetes and needs insulin. I remembered someone recently coming in with some, enough to share.”

I tilt my head back and allow the hood to fall down enough to reveal my face with my pleading eyes. “Please,” I say. “Zoey doesn’t have much time left. We’ve done everything to prolong her needing more, but it’s only a temporary patch. We’ve been traveling around, searching everywhere.”

She holds my eye contact for a minute before she gives a small smile and nods. “We have some in the nurse’s station. We can spare a few vials, enough to get through another two weeks. If your friend is still in need later on and you haven’t found any more, bring her here.”

Relief floods through me with such force that I nearly drown in it. William wraps an arm around my waist to keep me from crumpling to the floor in tears. Finally, my search is ending. Zoey will be able alright. A few vials won’t be much, but it’s more than zero. It’ll buy her time, and I will find more. I’ll never stop searching.

“However,” Claire continues, “I’ll need to trade it for something of value.”

“What exactly do you mean by ‘something of value’?” Griffin asks.

“It’s subjective, so whatever is important to you, I’ll accept. Whatever you deem worthy of the trade.”

“Here.” Max unloads weapons that were hidden on him. “Take any of these.”

“We have enough weapons already. I’ll actually give you some of our knives for free. We have so many.”

“But these are important to me,” Max says, his face twisted with confusion.

“Medical supplies, we have gauze and ointment,” Griffin offers next.

“We’re bursting at the seams with those, but I’m not uninterested. Do you have something, anything, that isn’t the typical survival items?” Claire tilts her head and looks at my neck. “What kind of necklace do you have?”

Max snorts. “Figures, you’d be more interested in jewelry than in knives.”

My compass grows hot against my skin. I reach through the top of the hoodie and pull it out, revealing it to her. My heart sinks when her eyes light up.

“Is that a compass? That could be very useful. I don’t believe anyone here has one of these.”

She reaches out to touch it, but William shoves his hand in between us. His fingers open to reveal the small object in his palm. “This. I know it doesn’t look like much, but this can save your asses. When you play it, it can draw rotters away from one spot, to a new spot. Once they move, you stop playing and get out of the way before they get to you.”

“When you mention drawing them away from one spot to another…”

“If you’re ever on a scavenging mission and there are too many of them huddled around a building you want to get into, go to another area, play this, and it’ll draw them there.”

“Why can’t I simply make noise doing literally anything else?”

William gets a serious look in his eyes, his beautiful blues turning hard. “Because you said you need something of value, and this is the most valuable thing I have. I used it just recently to redirect a group of rotters that were going after Griffin while he was sleeping.”

Griffin’s head snaps over to look at him, his brows raised. Oh, that’s right, we never told him about that.

Claire’s lips turn up in a smile, and she takes the harmonica. I see the moment that William’s eyes dim. When she turns around to walk, I grab William’s arm. “How could you? That’s far too important to you.”

He smiles sadly down at me. “Not nearly as important as you.”

My heart chooses that moment to master gymnastics, and I reach up onto my toes and kiss him, hard. His arms wrap around my waist while mine loop around the back of his neck and his mouth opens for me. There’s simply not enough time right now for me to convey my appreciation.

Time is such a funny thing. I wish we had more of it.

I pull away so we can get moving, but he holds onto me for a moment longer. “When we get in there, I’ll distract them while you sneak more than that,” William whispers in my ear. I nod to show I heard him, and we follow Claire to the nurse’s station.

Max hangs back to whisper to us next. “Or we could kill everyone and take the lot.”

“We’re not doing that,” I say, poking him in the side. He grins, but keeps walking.

“Well, here you go.” Claire turns around to face us before opening both of the refrigerator doors.

My hands press against my cheeks as I take in the shelves full of vials. There is enough here to last way over two weeks. This amount can be life-changing for her.

William keeps his word and gets busy asking questions about the people there. I somewhat listen while I began stuffing vials into my pockets, and Griffin and Max each take some as well. There are so many vials that I don’t know how they can tell how many we take unless they heavily count them. I make sure there are enough left in the front of give the illusion that there aren’t so many missing from the back.

“How many people are staying here? This is a pretty decent sized building.”

“About twenty-five to forty. Smaller groups travel out for days at a time looking for supplies, and we take in survivors who want to be here,” Claire explains.

Griffin grows intrigued at this and stuffs two more vials into his pockets before turning around to question her himself, taking William’s spot while William starts grabbing vials next. “You have a colony here?”

“Well, sort of. It’s not as organized as we’d like it to be yet, but we’re trying.”

“How do you choose who you can accept?”

“We don’t have much of a process in place yet to be honest, but as long as we can tell that you can be a helpful member of society, you’re in. Everyone has some sort of responsibility here.”

After filling my pockets, I walk over and see the most hope in Griffin’s eyes that I’ve seen since I first jumped out of the trunk. It hurts because I want him to join my colony even though I know he can’t, but I’m happy for him because of how badly he needs this. He’s been wanting this for so long, and when he looks over at me, I have to look away.

“Do you think your group could accept us?”

“What do you have to offer?”

“Strength and protection. We don’t have much in the way of supplies, but we can get some.”

Another guy I don’t recognize approaches Claire’s side and joins the conversation. He must have been eavesdropping. “The problem with that is one of your people needs insulin. That’s difficult to come across nowadays, so if we help her, then we would need to make sure we get enough out of it in return.”

“Does someone else here need it?” I ask. It didn’t occur to me that someone else could rely on it before I grabbed all that I could.

“No,” the man answers, and I frown at that.

“Then why do you deny it to someone who does?” I ask.

“We’re giving it to you,” he answers.

“Two weeks’ worth at a time,” Max interjects. “Sounds to me like you want to hold on to it all for bartering. Holding it over the heads of those who really need it.”

“That’s not true.”

“Did you, or did you not, take something from us in order to give us insulin?” Max raises an eyebrow while he waits for an answer.

“How many did you take?” the man asks, ignoring Max’s question.

“Two weeks, because we respect the survival needs of others and thought someone here must need it, but now I’m thinking we should take it all.”

“Max.” I lay a hand on his forearm that I know is going for a weapon. “It’s fine. We’ll get these to Zoey and then figure something out.”

I can’t risk losing these. Not when I’ve finally found her life-saving medication. It’s a rush that I didn’t expect to feel. We need to get out of here. They can come back while I’m gone, but I need to go before I risk losing these. Before I risk losing Zoey.

“You should listen to the lady,” the man says, and I feel Max’s arm flex beneath my hand.

A smile lights up Max’s face and I know it means trouble. “You’re right. We got what we need, so let’s just⁠—”

The movement is almost too fast to catch, but I’m the only one who sees the knife slicing through Max’s palm. He shoves the knife out of sight again before hollering in pain.

“What’s happened?” Claire asks, rushing over.

“Something cut me. All this medical supplies, and no one can even grab any without bleeding to death.” Max holds his hand in the air, blood dripping down his palm and onto the floor.

“Well, don’t just stand there, help him.” Claire pushes at the man, who’s staring at Max with disbelief, and they both spring into action. Max continues to howl in pain, but when I panic, he winks at me and kisses my cheek before continuing his charade. He whispers something to William, who immediately turns back to the insulin and grabs a few more vials.

It takes a while for them to bandage Max’s hand because he’s an insufferable patient who puts on a show. Griffin seems annoyed with the total fiasco, but he goes along with it. “You’re a dumbass. I can’t believe you cut yourself this badly in a medical supplies room. What would you have done if we’d been out on the streets?”

“Bled to death, I guess.” Max shrugs. “It’s kind of a rush. Did you feel this lightheaded when you nearly bled to death?”

Claire’s eyes widen, but Griffin shakes his head in disbelief. William chuckles, which turns into a cough, when the other man looks at him over his shoulder.

“There, that should do it.” Claire breathes out a heavy breath and steps back. Her arms cross over her chest when she looks at her handiwork.

“Ah, that’s better. It’s a little itchy, though.”

“Maybe you should try scratching it with a knife,” Griffin deadpans.

Claire and the other man look between them with confused looks on their faces.

“Perhaps later. Then my favorite pet can play nurse for me.” Max walks over and plants a kiss on me, placing one hand on my lower back so I don’t topple over with the force of it.

“Did you get what you need?” Claire asks, and I push away from Max and close the refrigerator door before they could see how much is missing. Hopefully, we’ll be long gone before that happens.

“We should get going,” I say, pleading with my eyes if any of them were to look at me, but they’re not. They’re all watching Claire and the newcomer as though someone’s waiting for something to happen.

“Let’s go,” Griffin finally says, breaking the tension. He places a hand against my lower back and guides me down the hall in the direction we came, leaving Gregory behind. Once the cool night air hits my skin, I know I’ve done it. I got it.

I’m coming home, Zoey.

25

GRIFFIN

My heart pounds the entire way to the highway where I lead us. We left Gregory behind, but he’s with his people, so he’ll be fine. I only hope that he waits until we’re far enough away before telling them we killed his friends. Well, I guess they weren’t really his friends, but still. Would the other people there even try to do anything about it?

The two guards out front suspected nothing when we ran by them. They only hollered after us to watch our asses out here. I don’t know how much they’ll risk getting payback for him when he wouldn’t join them in the first place, since they do nothing for free, but I can’t risk it. We need speed on our side to guarantee our safety right now.

Emily runs with fervency. It’s not until we reach the highway that I pull out the small cooler bag I’d grabbed along with the insulin for her to keep the vials cool on her way back to her friend. “Oh, thank you. I was worried about how I could transport these without them going bad before I get there. The only plan I had was to travel fast.” She excitedly unloads the vials from her pockets and places them inside the cooler, and we all do the same with ours until it’s stuffed full to the max. There’s barely enough space left to include the small ice pack I’d snatched. I can’t tell how many we all collectively grabbed, but I’m glad nobody counted. Then Emily zips it shut and frowns at the side of the bag.

“What is it?” I ask, worrying that something might be wrong with the bag. Maybe I was wrong, and it’s not a cooling bag like I’d thought. If it’s not, then I’ll find her one. I’ll go back inside that place and figure out how to get one from them.

She shakes her head and slings the bag over her shoulder. “Nothing. I don’t know.”

“That’s not convincing, princess.” My voice turns hard. Something is wrong here and I need to know what it is so I can fix it.

Her fingers pick at the strap before falling to her sides. “Something seems familiar about the bag, but then again, I’ve scavenged so much that I’ve probably seen the logo somewhere else. And it’s not like it’s the only bag with this logo to exist in the entire world. That would be crazy to think. I just had a weird moment, is all. Let’s get going. I’m too wired from this accomplishment to stay still.”

Good, there isn’t anything wrong with the bag after all. Name brand logos are common. Now, with that out of the way, I need to tell her something before we head to wherever she tells us to and then disappears. I need to do it now.

“Emily,” I say, clearing my throat. She turns her bright amber eyes on me. Max and William step in close, sensing how serious this is about to be. “I know we can’t go with you and whatever reason you have for that must be a good one, but I want you to know that we won’t join their colony here. Not if they can’t accept Zoey without using her health against her.”

“You won’t?”

I shake my head. Of course not. “I know damn well what it’s like to be denied acceptance because of something out of my control. That’s not something I would ever allow to happen to someone else if I could help it.”

She reaches up and touches my scar, and I push against her hand, letting her feel every raised spot. Every time she touches it, it feels even better. As though all it takes to heal is her touch alone.

Emotion fills her eyes. I can’t tell exactly what emotion, but it’s raw, and she throws her arms around my neck. My arms wrap around her waist and I lift her into a hug. Holding onto her like this, I never want to let her go. It’s going to be pretty damn hard to watch her drive away, but it’ll be worth it as long as it helps her and Zoey. I set her down before I can allow myself to have second thoughts and reach for the handcuffs. Regret is already consuming me.

“We should get going, princess,” I rasp into her ear when she lowers to her feet.

“Thank you, Griffin. You deserve so much more than you’ll ever know.” She unwraps her arms, sliding one finger up to trace the scar once more before turning away so I can’t see her face.

“Come on, let’s see if the car is still in one piece,” I say, heading toward our abandoned car. I grab Emily’s hand and lace my fingers through hers. We never got to have our moment earlier before we were rudely interrupted. I want to fix that.

“It’s likely in two pieces if we never got the new tire on,” Max says, and I roll my eyes.

“Shouldn’t take long to fix,” William adds, and he’s right. When we reach the car, it doesn’t take very long to find the right tire, even in the dark, now that we’re able to work undisturbed without a herd of rotters roaming through and interrupting us. There’s even enough light in the nighttime sky to work under. It’s like the world has lit up for us.

I give her a piece of paper where I’d written the directions back to the city where we found her. If she won’t take us with her, then at least she’ll be able to get home.

William is attaching the new tire onto the car while Max watches him, but I only watch Emily. There’s something different about her. She seems to be avoiding us somehow, but I can’t understand why. Unless it’s because she’s not very good with goodbyes.

I shove my hands into my pockets to make sure I gave her every vial of insulin I grabbed, when my fingers brush against something I forgot I had and I pull it free to study in the moonlight.

Mere hours ago I finished carving the rose I’d been working on, inspired by the new pot of flowers we have waiting for us back in the town. I even found some purple paint to match the deep lavender roses she’d found. I don’t know if she’ll want to go back to the town first and take the flowers with her before she heads out, but I can at least give her this. She brought back my love of woodcarving, so it’s only fitting that she takes it if she wants it.

“Emily,” I start, my voice thick with what I’m about to do. My tongue feels so heavy in my mouth.

She looks up at me, worry and indecision etched across her face, and I pull out the key to the car, pressing it into her palm. Her mouth forms an oh.

“Take the car and whatever supplies are in it you want. Get back safely to your friend. And someday, if you want to, you’ll know where to find us. You’ll always have a place here in our little colony. You’ll never have to be on your own, like we’ve all been for two hundred and seventy-five days.”

Her eyes water and I worry I said something wrong. I gently grab her wrist and hold her hand palm up, closing her fingers around the small wooden figurine next. “But if you choose not to, take this to remember me by.”

She looks down into her hand and gasps. “Did you…”

“Yes.”

“But I thought you didn’t carve anymore.” She holds the lavender rose into the moonlight to study it. “The detail is incredible. It’s almost exactly like the ones we found.”

“If you have the time to go back and get it, then we can, otherwise I’ll keep it safe for you.”

She looks up at me with water in her eyes. A single tear falls down her cheek and I reach out to wipe it away. She doesn’t need to cry. This goodbye doesn’t need to be permanent…unless it is. “Griffin I—I don’t know what to say.”

Say you’ll come back, is what I want to say, but when I open my mouth to say that, the sound of crunching leaves has me turning around with my knife drawn. I expect to find a rotter, but I’m even more surprised to find a human standing in front of me. I don’t recognize him, but if he followed us from the school, then it can’t be for anything good. “Can I help you?”

Emily stands closer to me and looks at the man. He’s standing in the shadows, so I can’t make out anything else about him.

The man steps out of the shadows and into the moonlight and grins, long dark hair falling around his shoulders. Emily gasps, and I hear Max unhooking his morning star from his back. “What the fuck do you want?” he growls. It’s a tone he reserves for the worst people we’ve come across. Even the dregs we last encountered didn’t get to hear that voice.

“Long time no see, brother,” the mystery man responds.

“Nate,” William says, tossing the car jack into the back of the car and drawing his own knife.

Emily shakes beside me with a little gasp. I’ve never met Max’s brother, but I’ve heard enough about him to want to kill him on sight.

“You survived. Good to know.” Max’s words are dry and I can tell he’s really holding himself back.

“So have you. I thought you were a goner for sure.”

“Because you left me for dead,” Max says.

A sudden rustle to my side jolts me, and I catch sight of Emily nervously inching backward. Nathan’s grin grows even wider, his eyes sparkling with delight as the movement captures his attention. Max’s jaw clenches as he steps in front of her, his fist clenching the morning star, and his gaze piercing with a fiery intensity. “Are you two an item?”

“None of your business,” Max growls out through gritted teeth.

Nate laughs. “I hope you like my leftovers, little brother. I’m surprised to see she’s alive, too.”

Max frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, but haven’t you told them, lover?”

“Wait…” William says.

“How’s the rest of your colony? Anyone get bit?”

“Colony…” I echo.

“Lover?” Max spits the word out, turning his attention to the girl we’re all crazy about.

My head snaps to the side to look at Emily and I see her panicked expression. The urge to be protective of her is at war with the realization that’s washing over me like a bucket of cold water. “Is that why you don’t want us going with you to help your friend? Because you don’t want us in your colony?”

“That’s—that’s not…that’s—” she stutters.

I turn to face her fully, my body shaking with a mixture of anger and deep, intense hurt. My mind is a mess. Everything we’ve talked about, all my deep insecurities that I shared with her. That I trusted her with. Was it all a lie from the start? “I gave you everything. We gave you everything. Protection, weapons, food, shelter, even killed other people for you. We walked into a possibly dangerous situation to get medicine for your friend, who we might never even meet. You know our weaknesses, deepest desires, know how badly a colony means to me, and you kept this from me? From us?”

Buddy moves to stand in between us and growls.

Her eyes are as wide as saucers and a tear leaks down her cheek. I don’t brush it away like I would have wanted to, because at this moment I don’t know what I would do if I were to touch her. My pain is so deep that I can’t trust myself. She tore open my deepest wound, tossed salt into it, and laughed. She might as well be dancing on my grave.

“Tell me it’s not true, pet. Tell me you haven’t been with my brother all this time,” Max says, his voice filled with such an intense hurt that I haven’t heard since the day William and I found him.

Emily turns to face him and opens her mouth, but no words come out.

“Is this true, Emily?” William asks next, his face crestfallen. “Have you been orchestrating a grand performance this whole time?”

She shakes her head and backs away, her eyes filled with sorrow. “I’m so sorry,” is all she says. She repeats those words while backing up to the car. Her hand falls to her side in defeat, and the wooden rose drops to the ground, but she doesn’t seem to notice. She looks like she’s given up. I guess she doesn’t have any fight in her after all, when her grand performance comes crashing down.

“Get out of here,” I growl.

My heart shatters into a million pieces. I exposed every inch of it to her, to the first person outside of our little group since the dead rose, and she took it and laughed. She probably laughed herself to tears after I’d fallen asleep after telling her my stories. She made me—all of us—fall for her. We constantly risked everything for her.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats.

My hands clench into fists. My head swarms. She needs to leave before I become the monster she thought me to be.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers again before jumping into the car with Buddy, turning the ignition, and peeling out of here. The wooden lavender rose snaps in half when a rear tire crushes it.

Nathan’s laugh fills the night air while we watch the taillights disappear. It rings in my ears with a mocking tone that rattles my heart. Only after she’s gone does that laugh remind me who this man is. The things he does, how he twists things in order to toy with people. His revelations that make others turn on the people they trust most.

What he did to Max was the exact thing he did to her. And I punished her for it.

The headlights disappear.

What have I done?

***

Find out Griffin’s, Max’s, and William’s next move in When The Living Fall (Song of the Dead book 2).

BONUS SCENE: Chapter One in Max’s POV, when Max first sees Emily: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/5ne7suo4xw

AFTERWORD

This is the first book I released after a two and a half year publishing hiatus while working through grief and trauma in my personal life. When I came back and said I was publishing again, I discovered readers who never left me and who kept following my newsletter, Facebook page, etc, and were ecstatic to see this preorder up.

I want to sincerely thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for still being there and for being excited! And thank you to all the new readers who found me after.

Writing books and publishing is my favorite thing in the world, and I couldn’t do it without you. I can’t wait to introduce you to all the new worlds that have been building up in my head.

All my love and appreciation,

Maya

When The Living Fall (Song of the Dead book 2)

275 days ago, the dead rose.

265 days ago, I woke up in the trunk of a car, put there by three men claiming to have saved my life, unknowingly ruining my entire mission to save my best friend.

Within 10 days, I fell for them harder than I’d ever fallen for anyone before.

Yesterday, I ran from them with no intention of returning.

Today, they’ve come for me.

https://books2read.com/whenthelivingfall

RELEASING THE MAGIC

Releasing the Magic Series (completed series, zombie apocalypse RH)

What's the worst that could happen? Sit down and let me tell you.

The Void Virus has been let loose on the Earth. Caused by experiments gone wrong, an outbreak has ravaged the world. Anyone infected has turned into a decaying empty shell, void of their former selves. The animate decomposing bodies have become known as Rotters, stumbling around for the scent of the living.

Alone in the dark new world where even the dead don’t die, I must fight to survive. Not only against the Rotters, but the remaining uninfected who have turned savage in their plight of survival; the scavers.

As the world I once knew is lost, a new one emerges. Strange things begin to happen. Some are able to wield power over the elements. I develop a strange healing ability. It is unknown if this is a rogue symptom of the virus, or if the solitude is driving me crazy.

Puppy, my German Shepherd, and I have been on our own until four guys enter my life and refuse to leave. Strangely enough, they’re just as broken as I am.

My name is Blyss and we will set this world on fire if necessary. After all… What’s the worst that could happen?

books2read.com/Infected

WOLVES OF MERCAIDA

Wolves of Mercaida (completed series, wolf shifter RH)

"It's time to embrace your inner beast."

Those words change my entire life, going from ordinary to unbelievably wild. Suddenly, I don't know who I am anymore.

It isn't until five guys stroll into town who know more about me than they initially let on, that strange occurrences begin to happen. Attacks become more frequent, and simply surviving has never been so much of a challenge. Even more so, they claim me as their own and refuse to let me out of sight. Everywhere I turn, they're there.

Watching me.

Guiding me.

Protecting me.

They open my eyes to a world of shifters and turmoil and now that I know the truth, I don't know if I could ever go back.

My wolf is calling, but will I answer?

books2read.com/CalloftheWolf

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Maya Riley enjoys tea, long walks on the beach, a little hair pulling and—oh… let’s start over.

Jessica Campagna writes under the pen name Maya Riley. Currently living in the South with her husband and personality-filled wildlife, Maya has been experiencing the journey of good ole Southern cuisine, humid summers, and ducks who won’t stay out of her pool. When not writing or occupied by any of the millions of hobbies she has, she’s working on her fixer-upper home, laying by the pool—or in the pool, most likely with a margarita or a floating wine glass—or plotting world domination. Maybe even outside running—for fun, not for her life.

To keep up-to-date on releases, teasers for upcoming projects, and all-around Maya-ness, sign up for the newsletter on her website here: www.mayariley.com