Nightfall (23 page)

Mason paused and swiped his palm across the window. Jenna kept an eye on the road. The howls grew fainter, as if the monsters preferred not to roam too far out of their own territory.
Good.

“Not this house,” Mason said.

If she hadn't been so attuned to his voice, she would have missed the faint tremor.

Jenna spun, wanting to see for herself. This was her chance to find out firsthand what their world had become. Sure, Mason had told her. And she'd heard it from Ange and the others. There had been intermittent reports about the east, and Mitch had been prognosticating doomsday for as long as she could remember. But she'd only seen the demon dogs and ... Edna. But maybe more proof could help her understand the way the magic worked.

Mason tried to shield her face against his shoulder, but she struggled free, raising up on tiptoe to peer through the pane. Her whole body lurched in revulsion so powerful it couldn't rightly be called a gag reflex. The monster on the living-room floor had a wolf 's muzzle, but human eyes stretched open in agony. Its body had twisted into bestial lines, powerful haunches ending in sneaker-covered feet. This thing wouldn't have been able to run on four legs or walk on two. Hideous ... and unspeakably wrong.

“Ah Jesus,” she whispered. “Kind of like Edna.”

Mason nodded. “Failed change. Their bodies must not have been strong enough. They die of shock. If someone gets bit but isn't eaten ... It's like they're tainted by the dark magic.” He shrugged. “I don't have all the answers. But there seems to be an epicenter, where the exposure began. Some say as far away as the Ukraine.”

She laughed bitterly. “Like a toxic leak? Magic ground zero.”

“I'm guessing. But it was unbelievably fucked up in Connecticut. Less so on the Plains.”

“You really came all that way, just to save me.” Incredulity melted into a feeling brighter and stronger, like Sarah Connor must have felt when she learned Kyle went back in time for her.

“I really did. And I'm fucking glad, not just because I promised Mitch. He taught me so much. You know he used to give lectures? My favorite was when he went on about blood magic. Said it was the strongest kind, that it could be used to cure or curse. Just depended on the hand of the wielder.”

“He said a lot of things,” she muttered.

Mason jerked his head toward the monstrous corpse on the other side of the window. “Anyway, I suspect we'll see more like that poor bastard before we get out of here. So we should move on.”

God help her, but he was right. They passed more frozen corpses in the snow as they walked, all locked in that twisted rictus. Some looked like they'd been trying to turn into big cats, bears, insects. A few were even more alien, unfinished reptilian forms. Their faces had locked in indescribable agony. She wondered why they'd left their dead in the street. Had people evacuated?

Or maybe nobody got out
.
Maybe there was nobody left to bury the dead.

Mason might have been right. No one had been prepared for a disaster that the government refused to acknowledge. The lawmakers and the military had believed that if they ignored the problem in the east, the chaos wouldn't touch them. Citizens west of the Mississippi had simply gone about their business, unmolested.

Wabaugh, then, presented the hideous results of isolationism as viable policy.

“Do you think there's anyone left?” she asked softly.

Mason shrugged. “Don't know. But I'm not going door-to-door, looking for survivors, if that's what you had in mind.”

“No,” she said quietly. “I know too much about surviving in this world now to want to take on more dependents.”

Their steps flagged as they trudged through town. Under any other circumstances, the walk might have been peaceful, almost idyllic, with unspoiled snow falling lightly on the old-fashioned brick buildings. Wabaugh was the kind of place where people decorated the pine trees in their front yards, strung lights for each other, and sang carols over steaming mugs of cider. Not this year. And never again.

Thankfully, it wasn't a large town. They slogged through the downtown to a brand-new shopping complex on the northern outskirts, anchored by a big-box home improvement store. The cracked orange and white sign beckoned her onward. Smaller shops had once done business at either side: a hair salon, a drugstore, a Chinese takeout place, a shoe store, and a dry cleaners. Across the parking lot, snowy cars hunched like oversized gravestones.

“We made it,” she breathed.

Mason squeezed her hand, wearing a funny little smile. “So we did. Let's get inside and warm up.”

Though she'd swear she had no reserves left after the shock and horror of the last hour, Jenna broke into a run. This time Mason was hard put to keep up with her. Double doors that read ENTRANCE promised safe haven and untold luxuries. She gave the doors an experimental push. They opened, which meant the place had been unlocked the whole time. That didn't bode well for what they'd find inside.

Tension coiled through her. “You ready?”

“Yeah.” He flipped off his rifle's safety. “We'll secure the place first.”

Creeping through the store in a state of extreme readiness, they found a few more bodies. Some of the employees seemed to have chewed each other up in a mad fit. They'd started decomposing, but freezing temps kept the stench at bay. Mason grimly piled them onto tarps, rolled them up with twine, and pushed them out the back. Then they went around locking all the doors.

“Let's find that seal,” he said at last.

“Now?” She hated the complaint in her voice, but she was so tired.

“If it's not here, we have to try elsewhere. There's another town a few miles north.” He paused and looked back at her. “I need to know we've accomplished our mission, okay?”

Jenna nodded, realizing his motivations made sense to her at last. They were finally on the same wavelength. This was just how he worked.

The place was dark and gloomy, giving Jenna a serious case of the creeps. When they found the aisle filled with plumbing supplies, Mason ransacked the seals and tubes. He found three types that looked possible, then compared them to the broken one he'd stowed in his pack.

“Good,” he said, finding the match. The tension across his shoulders eased. “Now for us.”

Jenna refused to let him out of her sight, so she followed while he collected supplies. She'd never been in a store when it was totally dark and deserted. Grills and garbage cans were equally ominous.

Trying to be helpful, she grabbed a cart. He filled it with batteries, flashlights, cushions, an area rug, and other oddments. She added the ubiquitous candy bars, bags of chips, and salted peanuts from near the checkout aisle. Then she hauled a few sodas from the lifeless refrigerator case. The ambient temperature was such that they held a chill, even without a working fridge.

By the time Mason led her to the garden section, she feared she might fall down. Her teeth chattered from cold and shock. He unzipped the screen of a fabric and mesh gazebo, making them a shelter. After shaking out the area rug, he stripped the pads off several lounge patio chairs to make a mattress. He scattered the bed with cushions, then fit batteries in the lanterns and arranged them in a circle inside. The light helped dispel some of the shadows.

“I wish we could bed down in the employee locker rooms, but then the choice would be security versus freezing to death. There wouldn't be enough ventilation for a fire. As it is, we're going to need to be careful.”

“Or else it's beddie-bye for good, huh?”

“That's right,” he said quietly. “I'm going to go get a grill. And some charcoal.”

“Okay.” Her voice sounded small.

He hesitated and then added, “Come with me?”

After collecting the supplies, he got the fire going within a few minutes. The coals burned a merry orange. Mason stationed the grill by the zipper and his guns by the bed.

It was the best they could do. To Jenna, it seemed downright luxurious.

She fell onto the makeshift mattress fully dressed, aching in every muscle, and she couldn't seem to get warm. Mason lay down beside her and pulled a rug over the top of them, soft side down. Jenna chafed her hands together, unable to relax. Though her body was exhausted, her mind couldn't stop its panicky fits and starts.

He found her in the half-light, brushed his fingers against hers. “God, you're freezing. You know what would help?”

“What?”

“Body heat.”

“Lame.”

“It's true,” he said, half grinning. “Take your clothes off.”

Her whole body came to life at his words. Eagerly, Jenna stripped out of her jacket and shirt. Her boots came off next, then her socks. Mason helped her with her jeans and threw everything outside their little nest.

Arousal hit her in waves. “You too. You need to warm up too.”

It was unexpectedly erotic, stripping him by touch in the dimly lit enclosure. She slid her palms over his bare chest, sharing heat. But she didn't stop there. Slowly, teasingly, she worked his boxers down until her fingers brushed the tight curve of his ass. After all that fight and fear, this was easy
.

A shudder rolled through him. “
Jenna
.”

She walked her fingertips downward. “Yeah?”

“Don't. I'm on the edge here.”

Desire trickled through her like honey, eclipsing everything else. The world could go to hell for all she cared. Right then they were safe, and a chance like this might never come again.

“Remember that cock you were teasing me about earlier? I want it.” In case that wasn't clear enough, she cupped his hard length and stroked.

“Fuck,” he snarled, forcing her head back.

“Yeah. Finally.”

He rolled onto her and tore down her panties in one motion. His hands were clumsy, shaking with desire. Jenna bucked. She opened up her mind and flooded him with raw need.
No foreplay. Just do it.

His whole body jerked. He came up on his elbows, his pelvis pressing against hers. She tilted her hips and he slammed inside. No tenderness. No finesse. His cock filled her, stretched her, and then there was no stopping him, no pacing, just the rough, endless push–pull of his body grinding deeper. Shaking, Mason curled his hands into fists at either side of her head. She worked against him in fierce undulations. His throat clenched, strangling on primal sounds. In the half-light, his eyes gleamed feral.

No words now. Their bodies spoke for them, all liquid sighs and hot pounding thrusts. A groan tore from him. He grabbed her hips, lifting her up to meet his hard, fierce strokes. With a low growl, he pulled her thighs farther apart, pushed them upward. She'd have bruises in the morning, and she didn't care.

Lightning spiraled through her and flared across every nerve. He plunged in. Her nails raked his back as she arched and came.

Mason's movements became shallow and quick. He bowed beneath her hands, surging into her again and again. The heat of his jerking orgasm amplified the aftershocks sparkling through her belly. Panting, he rolled his hips, circling them with the last shimmers of pleasure.

Visibly shaken, he collapsed on her. Within seconds he seemed to think better of that and tried to roll away. She tightened her hold and pulled him close.

“No,” she whispered. “Stay.”

The walkie-talkie on Mason's hip crackled to life. He'd left its mate on his pillow, right where Jenna would find it.

“John?”

He held down the receiver. “I'm here.”

“Where's here?” She sounded groggy and a little disappointed not to have him next to her.

“The electrical aisle.” He leaned the list closer to the Coleman lantern he'd set on a shelf, but the light didn't help him understand the doc's chicken scratch any better. “Welsh gave me a list of supplies we might need. So I'm shopping.”

“Couldn't sleep?”

Leaning his forehead against the shelf, he shut his eyes. Damn, she knew him.

He could see her there in the little nest he'd made, his primitive gift. She was naked. Her hair lay in tangles. A bruise tinted the skin along her collarbone—from the loving or the fighting? Maybe both. Turning onto her stomach, she stretched long, lean legs beneath that ugly rug. He was struck with the idea of licking the indent behind her knee, before traveling up to nibble the perfect ass he'd dreamed about. The vision hit him with such power that he could taste her on his tongue, his mouth watering.

“Quit it,” he said, half smiling. “You'll make my walkie-talkies seem obsolete.”

“We should grab more for the others. And batteries.”

“On it. We should also hit that drugstore across the way before we head back. That kind of stuff will be irreplaceable soon. But the return trip will be a bitch.”

“We'll manage.”

They spoke more about practicalities, but her invitation hovered in his mind. That she wanted him again set off tiny explosions in his bloodstream.

“I found a turkey-frying thing and filled it with water,” he said. The pipes had burst, so he'd chipped away at a block of ice in the store's restroom sink. “It's heating on the grill for you, if you want to wash up.”

“You clean already?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

His handset went dead.

Mason exhaled slowly and grabbed the fuses they needed. Two stops later, his cart holding a hodgepodge of goods, he used a pencil nub to cross the last item off the list. He only hoped Welsh had remembered everything vital. They wouldn't make a return trip anytime soon.