Awakened Desires (14 page)

It took me near a fortnight to get outside the bloody perimeter and close to suburbia. Bodies were scattered everywhere. There were so many true dead motorists, along with several undeads chowing down and hunting for their next meal. Burnt out buildings and houses, vehicles wrecked everywhere. I couldn’t believe how fast and how much destruction happened in just a short period of time. It had only been a total of three weeks since the outbreak and the entire area looked like a war zone. It made me pause.

I looked around. All of the devastation that happened was of my doing, sending a chill down my spine. Slowing the truck down, I stopped at an abandoned vehicle to check to see if it had any precious gas. I got out and leaned up against the side, eyeing the carnage around me.

It was getting to me. I tightened down my jaw and my shaking hands were wadded up at my sides. I couldn’t fucking crack because I was too strong mentally for that. I scrubbed my bearded face.

There was blood smeared across the road. Body parts were strewn about like discarded trash. I walked down and saw a young blonde lass, maybe five or six, lying true dead on the side of the road. Her gray glazed-over eyes were still open with a dead, blank stare. She had a gunshot wound to the head. My eyes traveled to the blood-stained teddy bear that was clutched in her tiny hands. Then I looked down at the rest of her body in search of the inevitable. There it was—a bite mark on her leg. I knelt down next to her and a touched her face. Even though her skin was gray, she was angelic and I wanted to hold her to make her better.

I wondered what her story was. My jaw trembled as thoughts ran around my brain. Was she in a happy home prior to the outbreak? Did she have everything money could buy, or was she poor and worried endlessly over things a child should never face? Whatever her story was, it didn’t matter anymore.

I thought of Carly and the baby, and I stopped breathing. It was a punch in the bollocks. I closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them, the scene in front of me would disappear. Not the case. The lass was still there, still true dead.

I swallowed hard and had to put Carly and the baby out of my thoughts or I would be out of my fucking tainted mind. My throat felt like it was going to close up. I tried to breathe, but every breath I managed to suck in burned as if a fire had started in my esophagus and traveled into my lungs.

She was gone.
They were gone.
Jesus Christ, my chest ached again. I whispered to the little lass how sorry I was and reached over with my jittery fingers to close her eyes. I leaned back on my heels and looked around.

“Clear your mind, arsehole.” I rubbed my eyes with my carnage dirty hands. My chest ached. “Jesus Christ.” I palmed the spot right over my heart, wishing it would just fucking explode already. Standing up, wondering if I was going to drop right next to that little lass. I wasn’t sure why I was still walking the earth.

I put on my program face and hurried the fuck away from the scene. Once I made it back to the car I wanted to syphon from, I worked diligently. Like a machine. Like a motherfucking robot. Just like I was trained—blank mind, calculated movements—with a swiftness only I had. I filled my gas tank and jumped back into the truck.

One last time, I looked back over to where the little lass was lying. She could have been my daughter. I had a difficult time shaking it off, but I had a job to finish.

My neck was starting to ache. It had been several days since I had a donation. I really wasn’t liking the way I would get my fix, though. As much as people pissed me off, I didn’t want to kill anyone anymore, unless I had just cause. I had killed far too many people as it was, but my brain was already fucking chirping at me way too much for my liking.

I needed to find someone I could get donations from regularly. A little sex would have been amazing, as well. Vivienne was my last fuck and taking matters into my own hands was getting boring. It was more like a task, not an experience. I wanted some good old-fashioned, hard fucking. Check that—
needed
some good old-fashioned, hard fucking.

I had driven for quite a while before I turned down a road that looked absolutely decimated. Houses were burned down, some still smoldering. There were cars crashed into trees, and let’s not forget the undeads roaming aimlessly.
Poor saps.
I noticed a gas station up ahead that was still standing and thought it could be a good place to find supplies. I hoped it hadn’t been jacked yet.

A high-pitched scream broke through the silence. I rolled down my window, trying to find the source of the sound. Looking around, I slowly drove forward. There she was…a woman was fighting off two undeads at the side of the gas station. I blew into that lot like a savior.

“Get in the truck!” I screamed as I jumped out with my hunting knife ready for some undead slaying action. The undeads must have been a husband and wife. The woman that was being attacked ran to the passenger side of my truck. The door slammed as I ran to the savages and leapt at the first one. My knife sunk right through his skull and into his brain. I twisted it and that nasty crunch echoed in my ears. I yanked the knife out and he fell to the ground in a heap.

The presumed wife was coming right at me. The gray, decaying woman swatted at me with a nasty snarl. Her face had a gash in it, splitting her cheek wide open. Suddenly, she face-planted right on the lot. Being graceful was not something for which the undead were known.

“Good night,” I whispered as I plunged my knife into her skull, giving her the old twist and crunch. It was over—for the moment. I wiped the blade off on her clothes, stood up, and looked over my shoulder at my truck. The woman was covering her eyes, obviously scared out of her mind. Even from the distance, I could see her body trembling.

Cue Prince Charming. Or was I the Knight in Nasty Clothes, instead of shining armor? Wasn’t quite sure.
Should I strut like a hero, or just walk to her with my normal Gunther swagger?
I chose my normal swagger for one reason, and one reason only.

It was irresistible.

I pulled open the truck door and she turned into my chest. She sobbed for a few minutes, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do. My experience level in consoling was near zero. The only person that I ever tried to console was Carly and I didn’t do a good job. I gave her a gentle pat on the back and held her. It was awkward, but whatever. She felt nice in my arms. Plus, she was warm and, surprisingly, she smelled nice.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed as she pulled away from me. “I was so scared.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

“You’re fine now. I took care of them.”

“Thank you.” She looked up at me and her bloodshot brown eyes spoke volumes. She looked like she lived full of fear and was life experienced. The t-shirt that clung to her curves was dirty, and her jeans were torn at one knee. There was a bit of road rash showing through the tear. A small spot of blood grew on the fabric of her jeans, causing me to salivate. I needed to shut down that thought and help her.

“Here. Let me help you so you don’t get an infection.”

I went to the back of my truck and sifted through my small bin of everyday medical supplies. I pulled out a can of antibiotic spray, a gauze pad, and a large bandage. After locating my only box of tissues, I grabbed a bottle of water. When I came back around to her door and she had her face in her hands again. “Here.” I held up the box of tissues. She glanced at my face, and looked away while she pulled one out.

“Thank you,” she murmured as she wiped her eyes and nose.

“Turn sideways and face me.” When she turned, I rolled up her pant leg past her knee. Despite of her road rash, she had beautiful, smooth legs. I had a deep-seated urge to trail my fingers all the way up her peach-colored flesh. Dampening the gauze with a little water, I wiped down her knee. She hissed. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“No, it’s okay. It just burns.”

“It’s pretty nasty.” I looked into her eyes for a brief moment and they led me right to her damaged soul. I swallowed, feeling a surge of regret. Generally, I never regretted anything, but it was coming closer to the surface with each passing day. “This is going to burn, as well, but it has a pain reliever in it.” She nodded. I sprayed her knee and her leg jumped. “I’m sorry,” I said again as I watched it foam up. “It needs to sit for a sec.”

“Thank you. Are you an EMT?”

“No, but I have a bit of first-aid training. Nothing major, just the basics. By the way, I’m Gunther Erikkson.”

“Quinn Landers.”

I liked her name. “Quinn…,” I repeated. I liked the way it sounded rolling off my tongue. “Are you alone here?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. She grabbed another tissue and wiped away the new tears that formed in her eyes. I looked around and glanced at the BMW sitting near where she had been trying to fight off the undeads.

“Is that your car?”

She nodded. “I was looking for food and I panicked when I saw them. Somehow, I locked myself out of it.”

As I bandaged her knee, I said, “I can open it for you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she muttered as she rolled down her pant leg. “I’m pretty much out of gas. I coasted into the parking lot on fumes.”

“Right. Well, if you need to get into it, I can still open it for you.”

“Yeah, that would be great,” she said with a sigh.

Pulling out my trusty little tool set, I headed to her car. I could have just smashed the window, but it was far too nice a car for me to do that. Not that it mattered, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. The fucker looked brand new, right off the lot, minus the dusty paint job. Two seconds later, her door was unlocked. She hobbled over and stood there, just staring at the open door.

“Can I help you with anything else?” She turned and looked at me. The dread on her face was unmistakable.

“I don’t know what to do,” she choked out.

“Well…” I looked back at my truck, then back at her. I decided to give it a go. “You are more than welcome to ride with me. I know you don’t know me and probably don’t trust me, but I promise you that I’m not a serial killer.”

Or was I?
Could I be considered one? I suppose that could’ve been the case, but I had no intentions of hurting Quinn. Not in that way, at least.

She stood still and silent for what seemed like a lifetime. Then she asked, in a warning tone, “You
will
keep your hands to yourself?” She threw a quirked brow my way that would send every red-blooded male into the greatest depths of fear. Quinn was a little spunky and I liked that about her.

“Hey, I’ll give you a gun. If I don’t behave, you can shoot me in my…” I pointed down to my John Thomas. I shuddered at the thought, and putting J.T. up as a sacrificial lamb left the nerves throughout my entire body tingling.

“I suppose if you are willing to kiss what I assume you feel is your most valuable body part goodbye, then I should feel safe with you.”

Little did she know, I could unarm her in the snap of a finger. Plus, my eyes would do all the touching and once I got her to trust me, my hands would be feeling every curve of her lush body.

I pulled out one of my Sigs and handed it to her. “You ever shoot a gun before?” She shook her head. I showed her all the basics from how to hold it, aiming, and reloading. She seemed appreciative of my knowledge. “Is there anything you want to get out of your car before we take off?”

“Uhh…yeah.” She walked around it and popped the trunk. She pulled out a couple bags and a stack of bedding.

“Here, let me help you.”

“You are very chivalrous and quite charming,” Quinn said, blushing.

“I try. But don’t get used to it.” I winked at her and she recoiled. I knew what was coming.

“Your eyes.” I looked down. “They’re so…”

“Green,” I finished. I knew they had to be graying by that point, but they still had that chemical glimmer that mystified anyone who locked eyes with me.

I lifted one of her bags over my shoulder and grabbed the stack of linens. She walked ahead of me and her backside swayed slightly as she opened the liftgate of my truck.
Jesus Christ.
I don’t think she was doing it consciously but, bloody hell, she had a remarkable arse. So round and plump. I had to silently tell J.T. to cut the twitchy shit.

I bumped into her by accident, pressing our bodies together as I stacked her stuff in my truck.
Fuck me.
I wanted to bend her over right then. It stunned me for a moment. “Sorry,” I mumbled when I pulled away.

“That’s fine.” She turned around. Having my body pressed against hers didn’t seem to faze her a bit. I, on the other hand, felt like a wanton slut. “I never made it into the store, by the way. Do you want to go in and look?” she asked.

I cleared my throat. “Yeah. I’m low on supplies myself.” I shut the liftgate. “Have your gun ready.”

We marched to the door of the gas station. The door was locked, which was a good sign. I pulled out my tool set and had the door open in a few seconds. “Are you some sort of criminal? You seem to know your way around locks…and guns.” I chuckled at her statement. I suppose I
was
a criminal in the grand scheme of things.

“Nope. Just an average man with some
extraordinary
skills.” She nodded tentatively. I would have loved to show her
all
of my skills.

I headed in first because I wasn’t about to let her lead me. Not hear anything but silence made me happy. I was really starting to get achy so I wasn’t in the mood to drop any more of those buggers. “Grab a bag or two and start loading up.”

“I really hate to do this,” she muttered.

“I understand that, but it’s every man for himself at this point.”

We practically wiped the shelves clean, grabbing all the water and sports drinks out of the coolers, as well.

After putting everything into the truck, we headed out. I drove about an hour or so before either one of us talked. I glanced at her several times to see her chewing on her fingernail. It looked like she wanted to talk, so I decided to give it a go. “So, are you from around here?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Obviously, you’re not.”