The Dead Saga (Book 3): Odium III Page 27

  Reluctantly I dropped my blanket and peeled my dirty, ripped clothing away from my equally dirty and beat-up body, and I redressed as quickly as I could. I fingered the large hole in my old T-shirt, the bite mark from the deader and the slash across the middle making it abundantly clear how close I had come to being zombie food.

  Cold covered my arms, goose bumps blanketed my flesh, and my teeth chattered even louder than previously as I struggled with still slightly damp skin to get my foot in the jeans. I took off my socks and wrung them out, not wanting to put them on, but not wanting to go barefoot, either.

  I grabbed the blanket from the floor and wrapped it back around my shoulders, my toes going numb as I pilfered through the clothing hunting for I wasn’t really sure what. I came up with a short-sleeved T-shirt, which I tried to tie around one of my feet to keep it from getting too cold. It was uncomfortable, and I looked ridiculous, but heat began to claw back into my numb toes, so I grabbed another T-shirt and gave my other foot the same treatment. I took one of the smaller towels in the room and wrapped it around my wet hair and then stared at my reflection.

  I was skin and bones, as pale as snow, and with dark rings under my eyes; the new clothes hung from my skinny frame and I looked forlornly into the face of someone I barely recognized anymore. I wondered sadly where she had gone, and if I would ever find that woman again. Or if she really had died so many years ago, along with her husband, leaving behind just this empty shell. I tipped my head to one side and pulled the towel from my hair, roughly rubbing it over my dark locks until they were just damp and not sopping wet anymore.

  I ran my fingers through the dark waves, tugging at the knots and tangles until I was satisfied that it was the best I could do. I felt lost inside and I looked dead on the outside, haunted and vacant, and I wondered how long it would be before my body finally joined my soul in hell.

  THIRTY-NINE.

  A soft tap on the door made me jump, and I looked away from my deathly morbid reflection and opened the door. Mikey was standing there looking confused. His dark eyes found mine and he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

  “Does Joan…sing in her sleep?” he asked.

  I grinned. “More than likely. What song is it?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure, I can’t make it out.” He looked down at my new clothes, eyeing my choice of footwear with a tilt of his head and a smirk. “Sexy.”

  “Not trying to be,” I said haughtily, shouldering past him, already feeling like enough of a dork in my getup without him confirming it any more for me.

  I went to the joining door and pressed my ear against it, grinning even more. Mikey joined me, pressing his ear to the door also, and we stared into each other’s faces as we listened to Joan singing quietly in her sleep.

  “Ninety-nine bottles of beer,” I said quietly, getting lost in Mikey’s intense gaze.

  “Make it ninety-eight. I haven’t had a beer in far too long.” He grinned back.

  His tongue ran along his lower lip, and I wasn’t sure if it was a subconscious move or if he had done it on purpose, but the sight of that one small movement had my stomach tensing and I swallowed loudly. I pulled away from the door.

  “You need to get some rest,” I said quietly, my words holding no conviction.

  “I do,” he replied, but made no attempt to go lie down.

  “I’ll stay by the window,” I said, making the decision for both of us.

  I slipped past him and stood by the window, pulling the curtain back a crack, and stared out into the rain. It was still quiet outside, barring the deluge of rain, of course, which continued to beat down on the world in heavy sheets. No shadows moved promising us the threat of a deader attack. The bodies of the dead that littered the ground remained still and silent. They were finally dead and at peace, and I was insanely grateful for that, though I was worried about the little boy that had run off, wondering what his story was and if he was somewhere safe and dry for the night. But for the time being we had no choice but to wait out the storm.

  “Nina,” Mikey’s gravelly voice rasped from behind me.

  I turned to look.

  “I’m not tired,” he continued, watching me unfalteringly.

  There was so much longing and heat in that look that I found myself taking a steadying breath. I knew exactly what he meant. The tension was coiled around us like vines, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his. That was a lie; I could have, if I’d wanted to. But I didn’t want to. I wanted this—him. I liked the way he made me feel—the way he seemed to recognize the stranger I was becoming to myself—and I needed it. I needed to know who I was now, to be reminded of this very thing by his confident touch and sinful stare. I gave him the smallest of smiles and he moved forward, his hands encircling my waist and tugging me harshly against his body. He stared down at me with a craving that seemed to be buried deep down inside of him.

  I tipped my chin up, raising my mouth to meet his, and he leaned down, pressing his lips against mine. I opened up to him, taking each forceful, experienced kiss, and giving my own back full of even more heated desire. Our tongues moved together and we took small steps backwards, our moves never leaving each other’s until the back of his knees bumped the bed and he spun me around abruptly, laying me flat upon the old mattress, and then lowered his body over mine.

  Trapped under him, his arms a protective cage on either side of my head, I felt safe and away from the cruel, hard world that we lived in. The room was darkening, the storm building to its full crescendo as lightning streaked across the sky and the room flashed brilliantly before draping us back into darkness again. It was perfect—a combination of mystery and shyness swallowing me whole. His mouth found my neck, placing soft kisses along my collarbone and then back up to my mouth, sending tingles across my body. I was breathless and we hadn’t even done anything yet. His hands moved under my clothes, finding a soft breast and hard nipple, my skin still chilled to the bone but heating up with every second that passed.

  My own hands moved over his neck and then down to his back, feeling muscles and strength where I was only skin and bone, and I couldn’t help the small amount of jealousy that raised inside of me. I was wasting away yet he seemed to be thriving. His hands found my belt buckle, and moments later the sound of my zipper interrupted our heavy breathing. My own hands worked the three buttons of his fly, and once they were undone, he stood and deftly slid the pants down his legs, and then removed mine. A chill ran through me from the cold, but then he was back on top of me, arms on either side of me, wrapping me in the heat from his body in moments, his kisses hungrier and more urgent than before.

  Mikey stopped kissing and looked down at me with a smile, his eyes shining in the moonlight. Even with his now thick beard I could see his pronounced dimple, and I smiled back at him. I nodded and he gripped my thighs, parting my legs more as he gripped my hips with experienced hands and pushed himself inside me. I gasped loudly before he swallowed both my gasp and his own groan with a forceful kiss. Mikey closed his eyes as he rocked into me, and I moved my hips to meet his every demanding thrust.

  Our skin was slick with a light sheen of sweat despite the cold. My hands slid from his shoulders, his beard rough against my face and neck as he ruthlessly kissed me. His tongue flicking against mine in familiarity, as if we had been doing this for months and he recognized every part of my mouth and body. I lost myself in time, thinking only of the moment, because really, when did we ever get to be lost in a moment anymore? When was it okay to think only of the moment, the singular, unfaltering process of desiring pleasure from something or someone? I needed this, I was famished for it—for him and the attention that he showed my body and my soul.

  He rocked into me over and over, our bodies slapping together as I fought to stay in control and not let my orgasm escape. I wasn’t ready for it to end yet, but it did, and I turned my head to the side, pressing my mouth to his forearm as my knees squeezed his waist and my body trembled. His movement slowed t
o something tenderer and he leaned down and nudged my cheek with his nose, nuzzling me until I turned to face him again. I looked up at him through lust-filled eyes, and his mouth turned up in a smile right before his muscles tensed and he thrust into me over and over, pulling out of me as he found his own ending.

  Mikey moved off me, lying down at my side before pulling the blanket over the top of us. I moved into him, resting my head against his chest, and listened to the sound of his heart beating frantically in his chest, eventually slowing to a more steady rhythm. Neither of us moved for a long time, both of us trapped in the moment, and both of us willing participants in the capture.

  There weren’t enough times like that, where you could appreciate your life and the fact that you were still breathing. Every day was a battle to survive, a new obstacle and new threat that promised its vengeance upon you. So I clung to this moment—clung to Mikey—letting the peacefulness absorb into my flesh and soak into my memory. Because who really knew when we would have this time again?

  Life was short and precious, and while I didn’t know when my end would come, I knew for certain that I wouldn’t make it to the end. I wanted the tough, bitchy me to come back, but she was gone. She had left me when I had first remembered that not everyone left in the world was bad. She had begun to ebb away when I had met Emily. Emily, who had restored my faith in other humans and shown me that there was still innocence out there, that there was still hope to be had. Mikey had put the final nail in my coffin with his unapologetic feelings for me. He had sealed my fate with his smile and his warm eyes, and his strength that rolled off him in heavy waves, forcing me to look inside myself and begin to heal.

  Soft snores left his mouth, and I leaned up on one arm to look down into his face. He was relaxed, his mouth open a little as the snore left his throat. I slid out from under the covers and dressed, feeling ridiculously embarrassed when I realized that I’d worn the T-shirts wrapped around my feet the entire time.

  I took my seat by the window and stared out into the night, wondering what the time was, what month it was, and what day it was, but knowing that I probably wouldn’t ever find out. Time used to rule my life, and in some ways, even after all this time, I was still getting used to the fact that it didn’t anymore. It had been a long time since the initial outbreak, but it was only now that I felt I was back in the fight. Being behind the walls had been scary, but nothing like what it was like outside of them. Yet I thrived on it, enjoying each sunrise for what it was…the real possibility that each day could be my last.

  FORTY.

  Morning came, light streaming in through the small gap I’d allowed in the curtains. I had been staring through it for hours, but it was as quiet outside as it was inside. I had left them all to sleep, my mind still too active to drift off when it had been Mikey’s time to take over watch, and by the time it was Nova’s turn I still hadn’t been ready to sleep. As if I’d been guzzling on cans of Red Bull all night, I felt pent up with energy and ready to face today.

  The joining door suddenly swung open and Nova stood in the doorway looking dazed and bewildered, and, if I’m honest, slightly hilarious. Harsh red pillow lines were etched down one side of her face, and her hair jutted out at bizarre angles. She stared at me bleary-eyed as she tried to vocalize her thoughts. She moved over to the chair facing me, took one long look at Mikey lying on his side still snoring, a blanket wrapped over his large frame, and hefted her feet onto the table. She pulled her cigarettes out of her pocket and lit one, taking a deep lungful before finally remembering how to speak.

  “You didn’t wake me,” she observed, her throat sounding dry.

  “I tried to, but you wouldn’t wake,” I said.

  She stared at me, her eyes wide in disbelief. “You lie!” But I could tell she wasn’t so sure about that. “I have never not woken up for a shift.”

  I put her out of her misery with a small smile. “I do—lie, that is. I wasn’t sleepy, so I left you to it.”

  “I think I needed that,” she said, pulling a hand through her ratting red locks.

  I nodded. “You all did.”

  “What about you?” she asked, taking another drag.

  “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” I replied, turning my attentions back out the window.

  “You shouldn’t tempt fate.”

  “You’re right.” I laughed darkly. “I’ll sleep later today.”

  It was still raining, but sunshine was gleaming through the clouds, fighting its way for space in the sky. It was also warmer than yesterday, and I was more than happy about that. A small figure flitted at the edge of the tree line, and my body tensed and froze as I stared intensely at it. There was a small waist-high fence surrounding the entire parking lot, and beyond that, trees. I saw the movement again, and even though it was some ways off, I gripped my machete tightly.

  Nova dropped her feet from the table and pulled the edge of the curtain back before peering out. We both stared in silence, and as a small child’s face came into view, Nova jumped up from her seat. Her feet stomped across the room, startling Mikey awake.

  “What the hell?” he mumbled, scratching at his beard and staring around the room accusingly. “What time is it?” He glared over at me. “What day is it?”

  “That little brat is out there,” Nova whisper-shouted, standing behind the door and peering out through the peephole.

  I watched from the window as the kid made his way across the parking lot, avoiding the dead bodies all around him. His eyes skittered across all the windows, checking for movement, before he ran to the side of the building.

  Nova cracked the door open quietly and slipped outside, and I was pulling on my still-damp socks and pushing my feet into my boots as quickly as I could. Mikey stood up, his towel dropping to reveal his nakedness, and for a moment we both just stared at his morning… presentation…both of us a little embarrassed about the surprise entrance. It wasn’t until Joan wolf-whistled in the doorway that Mikey hurried to hide himself and I snorted out a laugh.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, and quickly left, clicking the door quietly shut behind me.

  I’m sure Mikey yelled not to go at my retreating back—either that or he was begging me not to leave him alone with Joan—but I was already out of the door and moving along the side of the building in search of Nova and the little boy.

  A scuffle back around the front of the building had me running faster, and I rounded the corner, my front hitting Nova’s back with an “oomph.” She had the little boy in her grip again, and while he kicked out, his mouth snapping at her hands, he never made a sound. I wasn’t entirely sure why. Yesterday he had been vocal about our presence, but today it was like he sensed to keep the noise down—though the light drizzle would drown out any small noises he might make anyway.

  I moved around the front of Nova, grabbing the kid’s ankles as he tried to kick me like he had yesterday, and I laughed in his face.

  “Not this time,” I bit out, keeping ahold of his ankles as he thrashed around. “Will you chill out? We’re not deaders, you’re safe.”

  He stopped fighting, his lips pulled back into a snarl, his eyes cold and lifeless. “What’s a deader?”

  His voice made him sound younger, and where I had initially thought ten or eleven I now thought maybe eight or nine. He looked cold, and I realized guiltily that he must have spent the night outside. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, and though his face was still covered in dirt, I knew it was much better than it had been last night.

  “A zombie,” I stated, watching the fear cross his face.

  “The biters,” he stated, his words devoid of emotion.

  I nodded. “Yes, the biters. I call them deaders, because they’re…dead, but biters works to.”

  “Because they bite,” he whispered, his voice hollow.

  I nodded again. “Yeah. Because they bite.”

  We fell into silence, and I think even Nova was confused about what to do now that she had him. Obvio
usly she didn’t intend on harming him, never mind killing him. Her grip, however, stayed firm and tight on him. Now we were just three people, standing in the rain, getting wet and cold once again. I hated winter.

  “Why are you here?” he asked bluntly.

  “We have a group of friends that are hidden and safe, we’re going to find them,” I said, trying to keep my story short and to the point. “Are you alone?” I asked, because that was what I was the most curious about.

  He hesitated a fraction of a second before nodding once, but he didn’t look the smallest bit sad by that fact. His gaze stayed locked on mine, devoid of any emotion now that the anger and fear were ebbing away.

  “How long have you been alone?” Nova asked, almost reading my mind at my next question yet to be voiced.

  The boy didn’t answer the question, but instead answered another question I hadn’t yet voiced.

  “My name’s Adam.” He said it almost proudly.

  I looked over at Nova, who raised an eyebrow. “Hi, Adam. My name’s Nina,” I replied.

  “Nina’s a bitch,” Nova snorted out.

  I scowled. “Takes a bitch to know a bitch.” I scowled at her and then looked back at Adam. “That’s Nova. She’s also a bitch. But you’re safe with us. We won’t hurt you.”

  He blinked once and then again, his small forehead puckering in frustration. “You shouldn’t say the B word,” he said, and I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at the sweetness of his words. Adam, however, sounded offended by my laugh. “It’s not funny. That’s a bad word.”

  “I’m sorry, you’re right. It is a bad word.”

  “My birthday party was no fun. Mommy and Daddy were scared of the bad people knocking at the door. Daddy used the B word lots of times.”