Bloody Sunrise: A Zombie Apocalypse Romance Page 10

  They turned in sync, back to back.

  Her voice quaked as she asked, “What if the gun fire brings more?”

  “Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  Blindly, she reached behind her, fingers grazing his back. “Booker.”

  “’S’alright, I’m right here.”

  The first Geek stumbled forward, backlit by the moon.

  “Steady now, follow the target a little and—”

  She fired the revolver, clipping the Geek in the shoulder. It slowed him only a moment.

  “Jack…”

  “Try again.”

  A second Geek emerged from the brush and Booker took aim. One shot and the creature was down.

  She fired a second shot and by some miracle, it hit between the eyes. The Geek fell to the ground.

  “That’s it, Meadows.”

  Booker aimed at the third groaner. Headshot.

  Scanning in the dark, she forced herself to take deep breaths.

  A fourth burst out from behind the trees, moaning grotesquely as it lunged.

  Follow the target. Aim. Fire.

  The walking corpse was turned into a lump of dead flesh once more.

  Behind her she heard the struggle.

  A Geek had blitz attacked Booker, but he’d managed to swing his rifle to block it. The thing had a hold of the gun though and was reaching for Booker’s face.

  All doubt leached from her body.

  Caitlin lifted her revolver, lined up her shot, and pulled the trigger.

  The Geek’s head blew apart like a rotten watermelon and it crumpled to the ground.

  “You good?” She asked.

  “Hell yeah,” he replied, grin audible.

  There were seven in total—the last one was older and slower than the others and showed up a minute after they dispatched the sixth.

  Caitlin took it out with barely a thought.

  Yanking his pack over his shoulder, Booker chuckled. “Good to know you’ll still save my ass even if you’re pissed at me.”

  She pushed the hammer back to where it needed to be for safe carrying and handed it to him.

  “Not that mad anymore.”

  Booker’s fingers brushed hers as he took the gun back. “Told ya you didn’t have it in ya.”

  Rolling her eyes, she started walking. “Jackass.”

  ***

  “Meadows?”

  Booker’s voice roused her from a restless sleep.

  They’d found a dilapidated barn in the night and curled up under what was left of the roof to rest. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but her head jerked up from his shoulder as he spoke her name again.

  “Hey, you awake?”

  She nodded, rubbing her eyes. “Yeah, I’m up. What…”

  “Here,” he said, handing her something. His revolver.

  “What’s going on?”

  The grey morning light hinted at the time—five am if she had to guess.

  Booker shifted away, and she felt the loss of warmth immediately.

  “I need you to listen, ‘kay?”

  Caitlin blinked, stomach clenching. “Jack?”

  His expression was grave. “I reloaded that for you,” he said, gesturing to the gun. “If I’m not back in two hours, you head out okay?”

  She shook her head, understanding escaping her. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m leavin’ my gear. You take it. There’s a map, and more bullets—”

  “Booker.”

  “You head west and find an interstate, okay? Stay off it if y’can—”

  “Jack, I’m not—”

  “Don’t wait. Two hours, that’s it.”

  “What are you doing?”

  Booker cupped the side of her head, stroking her still damp hair. “I meant what I said last night.”

  His thumb rubbed against her temple in deliberate swipes.

  I hope this isn’t goodbye.

  But if it is…

  Survive. Survive for me.

  Caitlin blinked again, disbelieving.

  And then Booker was up and out of their makeshift shelter.

  “Jack…” Her voice broke, not reaching full volume.

  He was already gone.

  ***

  Grey dawn turned into a pink and gold sunrise, and then the world was lit once again.

  Damage from the storm was evident in the fallen trees and strewn branches. The field they were in was overgrown and it didn’t even look like Geeks had stumbled through lately.

  She was alone.

  Two hours… He told her two hours.

  If her estimate was right, she had thirty more minutes.

  Half an hour left in a world with Booker. Half an hour to prepare for a world, for a survival without him.

  Linear relationships didn’t exist anymore—not in this broken world.

  It wasn’t about how long people knew each other, how many days crossed off on a calendar… It was about experiences.

  How often did they lend a helping hand? How many Geeks did they fight off at the other’s side? How many times did Death cross their paths, only to turn left instead of right?

  A week and a half of survival in zombie country equated to months of relationship building.

  Caitlin didn’t know if she’d weather the loss.

  Didn’t know if she wanted to.

  The revolver felt like a hundred-pound weight in her palm.

  Distantly she heard an engine, and for a moment she forgot where she was. A car engine was normal for the world before. Expected.

  But in a field? With no one around?

  The sound grew louder, and her heart leapt into her throat, all sorts of menacing explanations rushing through her mind.

  Pushing onto her feet, she slung her pack over her shoulder and grabbed Booker’s, ready to bolt.

  Then…

  “I think that was my personal best!”

  Her mouth fell open. “Booker??”

  Emerging from the barn, she squinted in the bright morning light.

  There he was, climbing down out of a canvas topped Jeep Wrangler and opening up the back-passenger door.

  She dropped their stuff in a heap, too stunned and weak to hold it all.

  “Whatcha think?” He called, grinning at her as if he hadn’t said a silent, heartbreaking goodbye hours ago. “I know she’s not the prettiest thing t’look at, but she’ll get us around.”

  Caitlin just stared.

  “Four-wheel drive, traction control. Plenty of storage space. And we can fold these seats back and—”

  “Booker!”

  He halted, turning towards her.

  Words… So many words clawed up her throat. She wanted to scream at him for scaring her like that, for making her think about a world without him, for keeping this to himself, for…

  She dissolved into a fit of giggles.

  Booker’s grin was brighter than the sun.

  “It’s perfect,” she told him, nearly tripping over to the Jeep. “Oh my God.”

  She kept laughing as she inspected the inside. It was cleaner than she anticipated.

  “Where did you find this?”

  “Target parkin’ lot.” He leaned on the door frame. “Managed to slip inside and gather up some grub if you’re hungry.”

  She smiled up at him, and then paused. “Wait… There weren’t any stores on our way out…”

  He ducked his head and she knew. He snuck into one of the fenced off townships. The ones crawling with Geeks—whole populations worth.

  “Reckless sonuvabitch,” she muttered, shaking her head at him. “Are you serious?”

  His fingers tapped a staccato rhythm on the door. “Never gonna be at someone else’s mercy for shelter again,” he said firmly. “I promised y’that.”

  So that’s what he’d meant…

  Her chest tightened. “You could’ve gotten killed.”

  “Could’ve.” He nodded. “Didn’t though.”

  The
pain and fear of ‘what ifs’ were too much, so she focused on the present. The tangible.

  “I hope you syphoned enough gas for this thing.”

  He smirked, and a shiver ran up her back.

  “Oh yeah, dontchu worry.”

  For the first time in four days, she didn’t.

  Chapter Ten

  “C’mon now,” Booker laughed, holding his hands up. “Put your weight into it.”

  Caitlin balled up her fists, keeping them at her chin like he taught her.

  Booker tapped the center of his left palm. “Right there. C’mon, like ya mean it.”

  She jabbed, knuckles making contact with his hand. It barely stung and he didn’t even flinch.

  “Really, Meadows?”

  She sighed and dropped her arms. “I’m trying.”

  “No you’re not, you’re pussyfootin’,” he said, lowering his hands. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of hurtin’ me.”

  She bit the tip of her tongue to keep quiet.

  Every day for at least an hour Booker had been teaching her self-defense. He started with blocking and how to disarm someone, and then moved on to more offensive tactics—proper punching form, sparring, and how to escape certain holds.

  She was getting better, but her punch needed some work.

  “Maybe I’m just not annoyed with you enough,” she said, smirking and lifting an eyebrow.

  “If our fight this mornin’ about the last of the peanut butter wasn’t enough to piss you off for a day, I dunno what is.”

  She scowled at him. “I told you not to bring it up again.”

  Booker grinned and held his hands up. “That’s it. G’head, throw that punch out.”

  She jabbed and skin to skin snapped like a rubber band.

  “There ya go, that’s it,” he said, voice low.

  The deep rumble of words sent goosebumps up her arms, completely out of place in the Mississippi summer heat.

  “C’mon, Cae,” he urged.

  It was too similar to her dream.

  The first time in over a month she didn’t have a nightmare or empty void of unconsciousness and it turned into… that.

  “Hey, where’d ya go?” He asked, brow furrowing.

  “Huh?”

  “Disappearin’ in your head again.”

  She blinked. “Sorry.”

  Readjusting her stance, she gave a couple fierce punches, and tried to ignore the tiny thrill skipping through her as Booker grunted.

  He was going to figure it out. He read her too well, always telling her she thought too loud.

  Not that he was the Sphinx riddle to her either.

  She knew. She saw the hints of pink high on his cheekbones and the tips of his ears when she moaned into a good stretch. How he’d practically snap his neck to avoid watching her clean off in a creek or pond. He’d give in eventually, and she knew the moment exactly—Her pulse would always quicken, and the hair would raise at the back of her neck. Like being watched by a wolf in the forest.

  Not that she’d mind being devoured.

  “What?”

  Booker’s voice brought her back to the present so fast she could’ve gotten whiplash.

  “Lost steam, Meadows,” he commented. “You need a break?”

  She bit the inside of her lip.

  She needed something else entirely.

  “Yeah, sure.” Dropping her fists, she wandered over to the Jeep and sat on the bumper.

  Sweat dripped down her neck from her hairline, and she wiped at it. She was perpetually damp from the heat and humidity, never able to fully cool off.

  Glancing up, she caught Booker staring at where her hand was against her collarbone. Quickly he ducked and turned away, suddenly very interested in the tree they’d parked under.

  Oh yeah, he was an open book.

  Standing, she opened up the back and took a small amount of toilet paper off the roll they had at the ready.

  “I’m gonna…” She trailed off, flashing the Charmin.

  “Stay close,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.

  Over protective, as always.

  She’d just finished and was about to yank her underwear back up when she noticed.

  “Shit.” It was louder than intended.

  “Y’alright?”

  “Uh… yeah.”

  Boots crunched closer. “Meadows?”

  She sighed and glared up at the branches over her head. “Can you toss me my pack?”

  “Y’get bit by somethin’ or—”

  “No, Booker, geez,” she snapped. “Just throw me my bag, please?”

  He muttered something incomprehensible and strode away. The Jeep door opened and shut and then he was returning.

  “Where you at?”

  “No, don’t come over,” she called. “Just toss it…” She held her hand up so he knew where to aim.

  Her pack landed a foot away and she snatched it up.

  Booker was leaning against the Jeep when she returned, sipping on a water bottle.

  “Somethin’ wrong?”

  Shoving her pack behind the passenger seat, she shook her head. “Nope. You ready to head out?”

  He looked like he was trying too hard not to grin. “Sure.”

  They were on the road less than two minutes before he was cocking his head at her.

  “Got your period, huh?”

  Caitlin nearly choked on her Gatorade.

  Booker laughed at her reaction, shifting his hold on the wheel—back to that alpha male wrist driving she hated so goddamn much.

  “The fuck, Booker.”

  “It’s not like you were subtle.”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “Sure it is.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He laughed again. “I mean, in terms of a supply run. We gotta make sure you have what y’need.”

  “I’m good. I have plenty.”

  “Besides, I’m ain’t a caveman,” he said, eyeing her like he was waiting for her to counter that statement. “I understand biology.”

  “Bully for you, you’re a 21st century man.” She pointedly stared out the window, wind tangling her hair.

  There was a beat before he said, “Why’d you think ya had hide it?”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “You were.”

  She sighed. “I don’t know, Booker, maybe I’m just not used to living with a man.”

  He nodded, making an affirmative noise at the back of this throat. “Makes sense.” He glanced over at her, adding, “Y’mean, uh… Nathaniel ain’t the Tampax run in the middle of the night, kinda guy?”

  Caitlin’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought of Nathaniel in days.

  “We never lived together.” She stared at Booker’s profile. “I’m sure he would’ve if I’d asked.”

  “Usin’ past tense,” Booker commented. “That mean you think he’s gone?”

  She considered it a moment. “It means… I don’t know where we stand if I do find him again.”

  Everything in her screamed at the vulnerability of her statement. She’d left herself wide open for a barrage of questions that would all lead to the same conclusion.

  Her feelings had shifted.

  It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out the rest.

  By the grace of a god she didn’t believe in, Booker only hummed and nodded in understanding.

  ***

  Since acquiring the Jeep, their routine had changed significantly. Off roading wasn’t much of an issue as long as the trees weren’t too thick. They made infinitely better time and now that they were further from Atlanta, odds of running across military goon squads were slim. Highways were still packed with abandoned cars, but Caitlin enjoyed the scavenging. It was something she was good at, and she had an eye for people’s patterns and habits, which meant she could always tell who had the better stuff.

  She’d taken to collecting CDs along with essentials. It kept her sane, gathering such small tokens of optimism. Not to mention
it was helpful in drowning out Booker’s bickering from time to time.

  After several days of zig-zagging across Alabama and into Mississippi, they decided to make camp near a freshwater pond to rest and clean up.

  Booker kept watch, just like always, as she rinsed off.

  Like a wolf in the woods…

  Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted him crouched on the grassy hill, rifle in hand. He was staring off into the distance, but she knew he was only focused on her.

  Knew it as well as her own heartbeat.

  Viscerally interdependent.

  Innocent and primitive.

  We run together.

  That night they slept with the canvas off the Jeep, desperate for even the faintest breeze.

  “Booker, why don’t you let me take first watch?” She offered.

  He hid it well, but his exhaustion was starting to show beneath his eyes. She knew Booker didn’t sleep much—never had, since the day they met—but he was still human. And she was steadier with a weapon, had better instincts when night came now than she did.

  “I’m alright, songbird,” he told her as he settled back against the door. “You sleep.”

  Songbird. He’d never called her that before.

  She wanted to tease him about it, but something desperate and hungry inside her was afraid he’d never say it again if she did.

  She loved the pet name too much to lose it.

  Her dream that night was of a house in the country. A buttercup yellow kitchen. Coffee brewing, the scent filling the whole room. A ring on her left finger, a big smile just for her, and kisses that didn’t end.

  It was still dark when she stirred awake.

  “Dreamin’?”

  She stretched and looked up at him. “Mhm-hm.”

  “Good one?”

  Caitlin stilled. “Yeah. Yeah it was.”

  “’Bout time,” Booker murmured.

  She knew what he wasn’t saying.

  Breaks my heart when you wake up frightened.

  I hate that I can’t protect you from it.

  Sleep still fogged her thoughts, made her loopy like she’d taken cold meds.

  At least that was what she told herself, how she excused what she did next.

  Pushing up onto her right hand, Caitlin reached for him. It was tentative, a graze of her fingers over his chest, up to the side of his neck.

  Booker froze like a startled animal.

  A wolf caught off guard.

  He stared down at her, eyes locked on her in the dark. Sitting up as best as she could, Caitlin leaned close, nose brushing over his cheek before tilting up and pressing her lips to his.