Erin M. Leaf (2 page)

She
slowly lowered the bat. “Mr. Greene?”

Benedict stared at her, trying to
think. He was so damn tired, and the woman in front of him was so freaking beautiful.

“
Mr. Greene is a little formal for the zombie apocalypse, don’t you think?” his best friend Dillon said from behind him, saving him from being a total idiot, like usual.

The woman
’s eyes snapped to his best friend and she lifted her eyebrows. “You must be ‘Uncle Dillon,’” she said, the fingers on her bat twitching as if she wanted to use air quotes to emphasize her statement. She refused to let go of the weapon, though. He liked that. She was plucky.

“
Call me Ben,” he said, scraping his wits off the ground.

“
I’m Lark. Lark Stone, Olivia’s roommate,” she said, stepping back. She looked around, then studied him and Dillon closely.

She must be checking we aren
’t infected,
Ben thought approvingly.

The moment they
’d stepped through the door, she began shoving at a huge entertainment center, trying to get it back across the entrance. She looked like David fighting Goliath. He couldn’t believe she’d managed to move the thing all by herself.

“
Leave it off,” he said. “We’ll be heading out again soon enough. Is Olivia okay?” He’d managed to keep it together all through the hellish ride here, but now he wanted to see his daughter. He might have been way too young to have a kid when she was born, and he might not have been able to see her as often as he’d liked when she was growing up because of her mom, but he loved her, regardless. He needed to know Olivia was okay.

She narrowed her eyes at him,
but left off shoving at the furniture. “She’s fine. This way.” She pivoted and led the way down the hall.

Ben glanced at Dillon and caught his friend looking at her ass. He shoved at him, giving him a look.

Dillon shrugged, smiling, then turned to scan the hall behind them. Ben was having a hard enough time dealing with his sudden and completely unwanted attraction to his daughter’s friend himself. The last thing he needed was for Dillon to be just as stupid.

She stopped in front of a door and knocked three times. When nothing happened, she frowned.
“Shit,” she said under her breath. “Olivia?” she called, louder. Still no response. “Jesus Christ, she was just standing there a minute ago.” Lark’s voice was strained as she reached for the knob.

“
Fuck,” Ben said, shoving her aside and opening the door. What he saw in the room made his blood run cold.

****

Lark darted past Olivia’s dad, swinging her bat at the creature latched onto her roommate’s arm. She didn’t cry out, or curse, or do anything except concentrate on obliterating the zombie’s head. The thing was half-burned, and only had one good arm, but his teeth, his fucking teeth were intact and sunk deep into Olivia’s forearm. Lark couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see anything except the fucker’s mouth stuck to her best friend. The best friend she’d ever had in her entire life, even with the moodiness. She would
not
let this nightmare creature have Olivia.

“
Die motherfucker,” she muttered, swinging again and again. She banged at its face grimly, pointlessly, and then a blade came out of nowhere and sliced through its neck like magic. The zombie’s eyes went white-hot, and then the entire thing vaporized in a flash, leaving the acrid smell of ozone to linger in the room like a shroud. “Fuck,” she said hoarsely.

Olivia fell down, clutching her arm to her chest. Lark dropped her bat and went to her knees next to her. She grabbed her friend
’s hand and looked up, tears screwing with her vision. Olivia’s hand was already cold, dammit. Dillon, Olivia’s dad’s best friend held a machete over them, panting. His face was white and he swallowed, hard, as though he needed desperately to throw up.

“
Fuck,” Lark said again as reality crashed back into her. She tossed the bat out of the way and leaned over Olivia, ripping at the sheet on her bed. She tied it around Olivia’s upper arm, tourniqueting the wound. In the back of her mind, she knew it was too late, but she couldn’t accept that Olivia was already gone. She just couldn’t.

“
Dad,” Olivia said quietly, voice thick.

Lark
’s let go of the sheet as her heart broke. She looked at her best friend’s face.
Fuck.
Olivia knew she was dead. “Olivia, don’t talk. We’ll get you out of here,” she found herself saying, uselessly.

“
Dad, I love you,” Olivia said, looking past Lark. Her eyes shifted. “You too, Uncle Dillon.” She gritted her teeth and looked at Lark. “You’re the sister I never had.”

Lark
’s face was wet, and she couldn’t see right. She felt Olivia’s dad near her, his body large and warm and she had to stifle the urge not to lean back to feel how alive he was. “You too, Olivia. You too,” she said instead, clutching her friend’s hand. It felt wrong. Cold and corpse-like. The stupid zombie virus worked so fucking fast.

“
Dad,” Olivia said again, and then he was even closer to Lark on the floor.

Lark stared at him, trying to decipher the look on his face, then gave up. Nothing could be
as horrible as losing a child, she realized.

He reached out, hand shaking, and touched her face.
“It’s okay, little Olivia,” he said, and Lark didn’t know how he did it, but he smiled at his daughter. “It’s okay. You go to sleep now.”

Lark sucked in a horrible breath as she realized what he meant. She had a moment to think,
oh no,
and then she understood. His green eyes, so like Olivia’s, glittered with unshed tears.

“
We love you, Olivia,” Dillon said, still standing. He looked behind him quickly, then dropped down and kissed Olivia quickly on the forehead before standing back up.

“
Dad, take care of Lark,” Olivia managed, but her skin was already changing.

“
No, no, no,” Lark said, gripping Olivia’s hand more tightly. “No—”

“
Promise—” Olivia said, eyes filming over. “Dillon, promise—”

Lark looked at him just as he glanced at her. She wasn
’t sure she’d ever seen such devastation in a man’s eyes, but it didn’t scare her. She understood. She’d felt the same way when her parents died. She felt the same way now, with Olivia on the floor of their dorm, no longer laughing and alive. Above them, Dillon stood sentinel, his face carved from granite. He was just as wrecked as Mr. Greene—
no, he said to call him Ben,
Lark thought idiotically. She forced herself to let go of Olivia’s hand and back up.

“
I promise,” Ben said, voice breaking.

“
We promise,” Dillon said, hands clenching on the machete so hard his knuckles went white.

Lark looked back at Olivia. Her friend smiled faintly, then her head lolled to the side.
“Oh, no. No,” she murmured as her best friend’s eyes flashed white, then settled into dead grey. She blinked, and faster than she could comprehend, Ben snatched the machete from Dillon’s hands and chopped her head off with one horrible swipe. Olivia’s body flared white-hot, then vanished with a crackle of electricity that had Lark choking. She staggered up, barely making it to the bathroom before she vomited all the chocolate she’d just eaten into the toilet.

Chapter Two

Olivia rinsed her mouth out and looked at herself in the mirror. The bathroom was dim because the only light was from a small, high window above the shower.
The electricity had gone out a week ago.

“
You look like shit,” she told her reflection, grimacing. She didn’t want to go back out there. Ben hadn’t broken down at all, not a single tear, even after he’d used the machete on Olivia. She shuddered, thinking about it. She didn’t understand how he could be so strong. She knew she couldn’t have done what was necessary.

“
Lark? You okay?” Dillon called, just outside the door.

She forced down another wave
of nausea. “Yeah. Sure.” Not letting herself think about it too much, she walked over and opened the door. Across the room, they’d upended the bed and shoved it against the broken glass of the window.
The zombie must have come through the damn window,
she thought, angry with herself. Why hadn’t she double-checked, triple-checked the wall outside? She’d been so sure they’d got them all earlier.

D
illon glanced down at her hand.

She still held her toothbrush. Her fingers ached from holding on.

“We need to go,” he said quietly.

Lark
’s heart gave a sick double-thump. “You sure you want me to go with you?” She couldn’t imagine why they would. She’d just slow them down. She knew she was strong, but she was small, too, and there was only so much she could do against zombies who were twice her size and three times her weight. Dillon stared at her, as if he couldn’t believe she had to ask. His dark brown eyes were steady. She uncurled her fingers from her toothbrush uncomfortably. She glanced at his hair, dark brown and shot through in places with silver. With a sudden lurch of her gut, she realized he was incredibly handsome. Like, movie-star good-looking. She tore her eyes away and her gaze landed on Olivia’s father.

Across the room Ben
stared at them, all six feet two of him muscled and tense. She forced herself not to stare. Both of them were ridiculously gorgeous and way too old for her.
And now is very much not the time to be thinking like that,
she told herself.
What the fuck is wrong with you? Especially after what just happened?
But it was as if her brain couldn’t comprehend the loss. She kept glancing at the two men, so solid and warm and
alive.

“I’d just slow you down,” she said.

Ben frowned, his entire face shutting down. “Of course, you’re coming with us. Even if Olivia hadn’t asked—” He broke off, visibly steeling himself against what he’d just had to do.

Thankfully, Dillon interrupted before Ben could continue.
“Yeah. You’re coming with us.” His voice left no room for doubt.

Lark
took a deep breath, secretly relieved. She didn’t want to be alone. “Let me get my bag,” she said, heading to her bed. She carefully did not look at the floor where Olivia had died. Seemed wrong that there was no proof that her best friend had ever lived. Instead, she grabbed her already packed backpack and jammed her toothbrush down the front pocket. She shrugged it on. “I’m ready.”

Ben stared at her.
“That’s it?”

She nodded, then shook her head.
“No, wait.” She strode over to Olivia’s desk. She pushed aside some books and pulled out a little painted tin box. When she opened it, she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d hoped the locket hadn’t been lost. She pulled it out and clicked open the slim, silver oval. Inside were two pictures: one of Ben and one of Dillon. “Here,” she said, holding it out to Olivia’s father.

He looked down at her hand, then slowly reached for the necklace. He popped it open.
“I remember when we took these pictures,” he said, voice low.

Dillon walked over and peered down at it.
“We were on the deck, grilling burgers. It was right before she went away to school.”

“
Fuck,” Ben said, voice breaking. He closed the locket.

Lark was blinking back tears again, so when the cool metal of the chain brushed against her face, she startled.

“Easy, there. We want you to wear it,” Dillon said, dropping it down over her head.

She fingered the silver oval.
“You’re sure?” she asked. Ben had his back turned, but she could see him jerk his head in a nod.

“
Yeah,” Dillon said roughly. “Please.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. Again. He turned away and she tucked the necklace into her shirt.
“Now what?”

“
Now we head for the hills,” Ben said. “I’ve heard zombies don’t like the cold.”

****

An hour later, she gritted her teeth and hung on for dear life in the back of their Range Rover. The roads out of Pittsburgh were crap. The sun had just set so the light was also crap. And Ben’s driving, well, that was crap, too. “Are you sure you know which way you’re going?” she asked. Since they’d lost power, there were no streetlights. They’d managed to get out of the city, and luckily there had been no more zombies near her dorm, but now they were on some back road in the middle of nowhere.

“
I know where I’m going,” Ben said tersely.

She could tell he was still upset. Hell, so was she. She dug her fingers into her seatbelt grimly.
“We should stop for the night. We need to find somewhere safe to rest.” She rubbed her face against her shoulder. Dried tears itched like a bitch. “I haven’t slept in two days.”

Dillon twisted around, eyes glittering faintly from the dim light of the dashboard. She jerked her head at Ben, hoping Dillon would be able to talk him into being reasonable.
Dillon seemed reasonable. He gave her a short, sharp nod.

She settled back, trying to unclench all the knotted muscles in her back. This was nearly the worst day of her life.
Nearly the worst, not the worst,
she reminded herself.
You’ve been through hell before, and survived.

“
Ben, we should find somewhere we can get some sleep. There’s probably a barn or something around if we keep an eye out.” Dillon fiddled with his phone, zooming in on the map. His GPS was still working, even if the cellular connections were down. He’d plugged it into the car to charge. “Hmm, two miles. There’s a place we can stop.”

“
I’m not tired,” Ben said. He gripped the steering wheel like a lifeline.

“
Well, I am.” Dillon let his head fall back on the seat rest. “Ben, stop. Please.”

Ben glanced at him briefly. It was too dark to make out his expression, but Lark could guess he wasn
’t pleased just from the set of his shoulders. He didn’t speak.

“
Ben, I’m serious,” Dillon said.

Before Ben could respond, a white flash appeared out of nowhere right in front of them. Lark gasped as Ben slammed on the
brakes. “No! Don’t stop,” she yelled as a zombie climbed up on the hood. “They’ll overwhelm the car.” She knew this from experience. Right before she’d barricaded their dorm, she’d made a trip to the grocery store, trying to haul canned goods and other non-perishables back, but she’d had to bail out of her stolen car when zombies attacked. They’d piled on the front and the only way she’d been able to escape was through the freaking trunk. There were too many zombies and too few humans left.

“
Shit!” Dillon cursed. “She’s right. Hang hard left, just ahead, Ben.” The zombie was hanging onto the windshield wipers, like a giant supernatural insect. Ugh.

Lark looked outside, but didn
’t see any more. Nevertheless, she knew they were there. No zombie hunted alone. Even after only a few days she knew that.

“
Now! Left, left, turn left,” Dillon shouted and Ben yanked on the wheel. The zombie slid off the window with a sick thump. Their SUV careened down another road, bumpy with potholes and who knew what else.

From behind them, Lark heard something. She jerked her head around
, peering out the back. “There are at least three of them right behind us.”

“
Is this even a road?” Ben asked, swerving around a huge tree limb.

“
Just fucking drive,” Dillon replied, eyes on his phone. “Yeah, okay, hang right up ahead, then keep going.”

Lark twisted around again to look out the back, her seatbelt digging into her neck. She ignored the chafing.
“If you’re going to do something, you’d better do it soon,” she warned, eyeing the monsters loping after their vehicles. “They’re doing that weird flocking thing,” she said. The cluster of zombies looked like a herd of fanged antelopes, their white faces turned towards the car. They moved together, as if they were communicating telepathically. “They’re gaining.”

“
Okay, hard right. Now!” Dillon yelled, gripping the dash.

The car lurched, and suddenly they were climbing an incline so steep Lark thought they were going to flip over backwards.
“Are you crazy?” she cried, holding onto the seat. “Ben’s right! This isn’t a road.”

“
Just sit tight, Lark,” Dillon bit out. “The car can take it. And Ben knows what he’s doing.”

“
Shit,” she muttered under her breath.

“Here, shoot them
.” He passed a loaded shotgun back to her.

She took it automatically. “Are you kidding? This won’t kill them.”

“Just shoot out the window. If you knock them down, we’ll gain and they’ll give up following us.”

“Fuck,” she said under her breath, then she undid her seatbelt and rolled down the back window. A shot rang out before she could get the shotgun into position. She twisted her head. Dillon had a pistol of some sort. She turned back around and aimed the shotgun, wishing once again that she knew something about guns. She
aimed, taking one out with a shot to the head.
At least I’ve got good aim, even if I know jack shit about weapons
, she thought, shooting again. A second one went down. Only one was left. Dillon shot at it and its head exploded. The car lurched to the side and she grabbed on, almost losing the gun out the window.

“You okay back there?” Ben called.

“Yeah,” she said. When she looked out the back window, she was surprised to see that the zombies had left off following them. “They’ve stopped,” she said, surprised.

“
They can’t handle inclines like this, not after having pieces blown off them,” Dillon explained. He grimaced as Ben revved up over a particularly rutted spot. “Okay, at the top, go left. It’ll put us on some back road. I think.”

True to his word, the road suddenly smoothed out into a gravel track. Ben drove, lips pressed together in concentration. They had the headlights off, so it was
difficult to see. Lark was just beginning to doze off when Dillon spoke.

“
I see light ahead.”

“
Me too,” Ben added. He flicked on the low beams and kept going. None of them said what they were all hoping was true: that a human was alive in that house in the dark. Zombies didn’t use things like electric lights. They were no longer human. They ran in herds, like animals. They ate, they ran, and then they ate more people.

“
How could there be light? The power grid is down,” she said.

“
Probably a generator, or even solar panels. Maybe a wind turbine,” Dillon speculated.

Lark was afraid to hope that the light ahead meant someone alive, but when Ben pulled in front of the old farmhouse, a person came to the door.

“He’s got a shotgun,” Dillon murmured.

“
I see it,” Ben said, turning off the car.

Lark looked from one man to the other.
“Are we getting out?”

Dillon shrugged tensely.
“Maybe.”

Ben opened the door and swung his legs out, hands outstretched.
“We’re not zombies. We’re just looking for a place to sleep tonight.”

The silhouette in the door resolved itself into the shape of an old man. He held his shotgun to the side, not pointed at them, but still ready. He had his leg jammed into the screen door, preventing it from shutting.
“How many are you?”

“
Two men and a girl.” Benedict stepped further into the yard, letting the spotlight fall on him.

“
I’m not a girl,” Lark groused, nervous that Ben exposed himself.

“
Let me see all of you,” the old man said, stepping onto his porch. The old screen door swung behind him.

Ben glanced at Lark and Dillon, then nodded for them to get out.

“Well, shit,” Lark said softly, chewing on her lip. She wasn’t sure she trusted this stranger.

“
It’s okay,” Dillon said, getting out and walking around the car. He opened her door. “No old man is going to get the drop on me and Ben.”

“
What if there’s not just one old man?” she asked, stepping out. Her heart couldn’t take much more of this. She felt lightheaded from the stress of the past few weeks.
And from losing Olivia, don’t forget that,
she reminded herself.