DeadBorn (21 page)

I sigh and drop my head back to the pillow, close my eyes and try to breathe. My throat feels like it's taken a serious blow, but that it's more traumatized than it is injured. I'm reaching my fingers up to palpate it when I hear someone come in the window. When I open my eyes, I see that it's Dawson. He sneaks past me and starts to dig around in the candy bag, casting surreptitious glances over his shoulder as he does this. Whatever it is that he's looking for, he doesn't find it and kicks the bag angrily. I'm too curious to pretend not to notice him anymore.

“
What's up?” I ask and he startles enough that I really am afraid he's going to shoot me.

“
Don't ever fucking do that again,” he growls as he drops the shaking pistol by his side and stares down at me. “I wouldn't want to see you get hurt.” I ignore the veiled threat in his words, certain that he's aware that if he shoots me, Holly will shoot him.

“
What are you looking for?” Dawson glances over his shoulder like he's afraid Valerie might come in and hear us.

“
Where's Holly?” he asks as he turns back to me and notices the empty spot where the indent of her sleeping body still shows in the blankets. It doesn't feel right anymore, sleeping without Holly. I spent more time at her house than I did my own and even then, she stayed the night more often than not. I wonder if we're becoming co-dependent and decide that I really don't give a shit either way.

“
Downstairs,” I say and neglect to mention why she went down there. I don't want Dawson to know anything about my zombie hand, not even if I have to lie to his face. Dawson nods and licks his lips nervously.

“
Do you have any condoms?” he asks me and I blink stupidly at him.

“
What?”

“
You and Holly were doing it in the bathroom, so I figured you might have some.” I don't even grace that statement with an answer because Holly comes up the stairs right at that moment, and Dawson turns back to the window like he's running away.

“
Mind your own damn business, Isaac,” she says, calling him by his last name. He turns around and they glare at each other for a moment. I don't see a belt in Holly's hands, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have one hidden on the stairs behind her. “What makes you think you'll score with Valerie anyway? She's at least ten years older than you. Why would she want an eighteen year old boy?”

“
Nineteen,” Dawson growls as his face turns a slight shade of pink. “
Man.
”

“
Please,” Holly says as she scowls and drops to the floor beside me, legs folded neatly beneath her. “Go outside and do your fucking job. You don't have time for sex anyway.”

“
Didn't seem to stop you,” Dawson says as he grabs the edge of the window and hauls himself out. Holly grins as he goes and leans back to retrieve a black belt that I wore only once to my father's funeral. I have no idea why she thought to pack it.

“
It's nice to know that we can still think about trivial things in a crisis,” Holly says as she hands me the belt and instructs me to loop it around my waist. I do what she asks and hand her the ends. The belt is way too big for me, something my mother bought either without paying attention or because she had no idea what size her son was. If she'd taken me with her, she could've asked, but she didn't. Before, during and after my father's death, she was the same. She liked wine more than she liked me. “It means we're already healing.” Holly pushes my left arm against my side, pulls the belt around it and cinches it tight. “There,” she says as she tests it by pulling against the leather with both hands. “That oughta hold it back for a while, at least long enough for me to wake up if something happens.” She nods and scoots down beside me, laying one arm across my belly and putting the other under her head.

“
Do you think Valerie showed interest in Dawson or is he delusional?” I ask as we lay together and pretend we don't hear the moaning and groaning or the gunshots outside the window. Holly does a weird, little half-shrug thing.

“
There's a chance they both might die. Haven't you ever heard of having one last hurrah?” I do the same kind of half-shrug thing and try not to think of Martin and how he said he didn't want to die a virgin. I guess that that was probably the least of his worries when he was lying on his back in the bathroom, but I still feel sorry for him. What I feel like when I'm with Holly is … different than anything else in the world, and even though we're still not that good at it, I wouldn't trade it for anything.

“
How did he die?” I ask Holly after a few moments of contemplative silence. “Martin, I mean.” Holly doesn't answer for a long while and I start to drift back to sleep, oddly comforted by the sound of gunfire.

“
Martin was right, in a way. The magic is like a virus. If you're sick, and it gets inside of you, it'll take you down. Martin obviously had some kind of compromised immune system.” Holly pauses as the missing tabby cat reappears from beneath a desk and comes over to us tentatively. Unlike me, she doesn't find the guns comforting at all and has been hiding since before Martin died. When Holly finally gets a hold of her, she grabs her by the scruff and drags her up between us where, after a moment or two of resistance, the cat starts purring.

“
How did it get inside of him?” I ask, wondering if it's in the air or the water or the blood of the monsters themselves. It could be anything. Holly sighs and looks up at the window nervously.

“
Galen,” she says, pitching her voice so low that it's hard to hear her over the happy cat. “Can I tell you something?” I nod and Holly swallows hard, like she needs a moment to let her thoughts catch up with her. “Since this all started happening, I haven't just had dreams. I … ” She pauses and scratches the tabby behind the ears. “I just know things, like they're instinct or something.” I nod my head and hope that she continues, that she lets it all out and just tells me. She'll feel better that way, I know it. “Galen, I'm a coward,” she blurts just as a pair of tears fills her eyes and sits on the end of her blonde lashes. She's trying to be brave, to hold them back, but she just can't and soon they're crashing down around me. “The hot spots,” she says and then has to pause to catch her breath. “Where the demons come from … ” Holly shakes her head like she can't believe she's saying this and forges on. “They're not that common. I picked this area because I know that they make it harder for her to see me. I knew it would take her longer to find me that way.” She looks into my face like she's searching for something that isn't there and curls her fingers in the fabric of my shirt. “Don't hate me for that, okay? Don't hate me because I needed more time. If you do then I'll never recover,
never
.”

I stay silent for a moment as I process this.

“
It's not wrong to be afraid,” I tell her as I do my best to turn over with just one arm. Once we're face to face, nose to nose, I feel better, like I can say more this way. “You know she's coming now and you're staying, you're going to confront her. You can't undo the past, but you can change the future.” Holly presses a kiss to my lips and smiles through her tears.

“
Thank you,” she tells me. “For not hating me.”

“
Holly,” I say, and I know this is one of those moments in my life that I'll remember forever, even over the zombies and the demons and the deaths; this time with Holly will stick with me until the end. “I could never hate you.” We touch foreheads and share a brief moment of peace before everything comes crashing down around us.

CH
APTER 1
8

Premonitory

Fifty-Four Hours And Forty-Nine Minutes After …

“
They showed up about a half an hour ago,” Valerie says as we stand in silence and gaze down at the newest breed of DeadBorn. Mummies. They're fucking mummies. Martin had asked about them before when we were on the highway, but I'd never even given it a second thought. Now there's a cluster of them emerging from the trees in a slow drag. None of them are running or screaming or spewing anything disgusting. They're wrapped up tight in dirty linen with bloody splotches for mouths and eyes, arms dangling floppily by their sides. I know though that none of us is going to make the mistake of thinking that they aren't dangerous.

“
Are they under Patricia's control?” I ask Holly, thinking of the ooze spitters and the fire faces. It makes a huge difference in our plan of action. Either Holly can go down there or she can't. Either we have to use the last of our ammo or we don't. She stares at them for a moment and then shakes her head.

“
No,” she says as Dawson narrows his eyes at her. “No, they're not.”

“
So what's the difference then?” he asks as he prods at his swollen upper lip. Looking at him now, I can't even believe I did that. Then again, that black eye and that crooked nose are what he deserves for attacking Holly. Breakdown or no, nobody touches her like that, human, DeadBorn or otherwise. “Let's just shoot the fuckers and get it over with.”

“
We can't,” Holly says as she moves away from the edge of the roof and starts counting supplies. There aren't many, enough for maybe two or three dozen more lopers. “If we break them apart, the dust inside will get in the wind and call more demons to the area.”

“
Are you fucking kidding me?” Dawson asks as he runs a hand through his hair. “What the fuck?” One of the mummies stumbles over a still moving loper and crashes to its knees. It's agonizingly close to the gnashing mouth of a severed head and we all watch in frustrated horror as it gets up in seemingly slow motion and continues to walk. “So now we not only have to shoot the zombies, but we have to avoid their mummy friends, is that it?”

“
Basically,” Holly replies and Dawson lets out a scream of pure rage. He's at the end of his rope now, anyone could see that. “Not unless you want to be overrun with those freaky angel things.” Dawson stares at her for a long moment, turns around, and fires three shots into the closest mummy's head. The bullets whiz right through the coverings on its face and out the other side. Gray-brown dirt like ash, spills into the summer air and gets caught on an updraft, swirling into the sky like a dust funnel. Valerie stomps across the roof and slaps Dawson hard across the same cheek that I bruised just a few days earlier. He stumbles back and falls to his knees, not even bothering to stand up.

“
What the fuck was that for?” she asks as she puts her hands on her hips and glares down at him. “I expected better out of you, and now you want to throw a tempter tantrum? Right before the shit hits the fan and we need you the most? Not acceptable, Dawson.” Dawson mumbles something under his breath but doesn't respond. He feels ashamed at what he's done.
Good,
I think as I follow Holly around the roof.
At least now there's somebody around that can put him in his place.
I'm guessing Dawson has never had that before. He had a nice house, a nice car, rich parents with a vacation home in Europe. He's never had to own up to being a dick before now. Except with Holly, but she broke up with him because she couldn't handle it. Valerie looks like she wants to handle it which is a big difference. I feel glad for him.

“
All the downstairs windows are boarded up?” Holly asks and Valerie nods.

“
Yep.”

“
And the sliding glass doors?” Here the ranger sighs and shakes her head.

“
We couldn't cover those with the supplies we had so what we did was push some bookcases in front of them and nail them down. Should be just as good, if not better. Why?”

“
They're coming,” Holly says as she sniffs the air. It already smells like rot and decay, but somehow, whatever she smells tells her something. “What we need to do is hold them off long enough for Patricia to come.”

“
If she wants you so badly,” Dawson asks, sounding unmotivated by Holly's words. “Then why doesn't she just have one of these flesh bags carry her over here so she can talk to you. Why attack us like this?” Holly purses her lips and bends down to pick up the shotgun. She puts two slugs in it and looks around for more. There are none. She sets it aside and picks up a handgun, checks the safety and puts it in her pocket.

“
She isn't attacking me,” she tells Dawson. “She's attacking you. Valerie, do you happen to have a knife on you?” Valerie nods and without questioning why Holly wants it, pulls a knife from her boot and hands it over.

“
Me?” Dawson says, taking Holly's words literally. “Why the fuck would she want me?” Holly rolls her eyes, sticks the knife in her pocket and picks up an ax from the pile of weapons that litter the rooftop.

“
Not you specifically, you idiot,” she snarls at him. “The three of you. She wants you all dead. She's … ” Holly struggles to find the right word. “Jealous.”

“
And how the hell would you know that? You said you've never even met the woman.”

“
I haven't!” Holly yells, attracting the attention of a group of bone bags that have just come clattering out of the forest nearby. They chatter their teeth at her and jog across the space between us at least ten times as quickly as the slow moving mummies. “I'm telling you the truth about that,” she says, but she looks at Valerie when she says this, not at Dawson. “Don't ask me how I know, please. Just believe me.” Valerie nods her head, very businesslike. Dawson scowls. “Oh, and since we're all being honest here, I should probably tell you that Dawson was looking for condoms earlier. He thinks he's got a chance with you.” Holly spins around as Valerie casts an amused glance Dawson's way. “Come on, Galen,” she says with a small smile on her mouth. “Let's fortify the upstairs, shall we?”