Assuming Room Temperature (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 3) (11 page)

BOOK: Assuming Room Temperature (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 3)
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Kat grinned and helped him rise. “Well, I know what the first thing you’re going to do is.”

“What’s that?”

“Shower.” she replied, crinkling her nose. “I’m happy you’re with us again and not drooling on yourself anymore, but you’re covered with yuck.”

Looking down at himself, Jake had to agree. “It won’t make a difference, you know. If I remember correctly, the building we’re staying in gets hot as an oven in the afternoon, never mind when we have to stay in the Mimi.”

Kat smiled. “Allow me to rephrase. As enjoyable as that kiss just was, you’re soaked in sweat, and—while I think you look really sexy that way—you stink. Take a shower.”

She watched as the lingering madness in Jake’s eyes receded further. It was like watching the sun break through a thundercloud and Cho attempted to ignore the way it caused her heart to speed up. He frowned and wiped at his chest, pulling a grimace when his hand came away coated in salty liquid.

Jake sighed, then gave her a sidelong glance as the two of them rose and started for the field’s gate. “Well. At least you didn’t call me a bitch.”

“Sorry,” Kat said with a wince, and took his sweaty hand in her own when they passed beneath the bleachers. “I had to keep you
here,
and I didn’t know what else to do, so—”

Jake gave her fingers a light squeeze. “I understand and—if you ever tell anyone I said this I
will
deny it—you were right. I needed someone to shock me out of my head, and that was definitely the way to go about it. You know what the worst part is? What eats at me the most?”

Cho shook her head and kept pace beside him, watching the writer’s expression closely. Jake didn’t look as if he was going to fall back into catatonic state again, but she wanted to make sure.

“I never told her that I... Well, you know. I never said the words. Neither of us did.”

Cho thought that was both surprising and the most heart-breaking thing she’d ever heard. It had been so obvious to
everyone.

“She knew. There’s no reason for you to doubt that,” Kat told him, gripping his hand tightly as they came to the back of the nearby high school and its small locker room.

“Maybe,” he said without conviction. Jake pulled his crowbar from its sheath as Kat readied her pistol. “Guess I’ll never know. I just waited too damn long.”

Kat opened the Master-lock Foster had secured the door with, and they proceeded to clear the room. Granted, when Jake’s friends had arrived and learned of the gravity system feeding the showers they’d made certain the locker room’s heavy interior door was bolted shut. The one that led to the primary section of the building and the horrors therein. None of them save George and Rae had investigated the rest of the school. When the pair of fixers had returned to the locker room after a quick ten minute sweep, they wouldn’t talk about what they’d seen.

No infected. Lots of bodies. We’ll stick to this room.
Was all Rae would tell them about the rest of Langley High. Then she’d locked both the top and bottom deadbolts, preventing any of their party from “getting curious”.

You don’t wanna see in there anyway,
Foster told had told them.
Dibs on the first shower.

The women had been a bit miffed about that. They’d been gazing longingly at the shower-heads, dreaming about
finally
being able to wash their hair in something other than a bucket. Luckily George had been quick with his cleansing, so no bloodshed ensued.

Kat secured the outer door with lock and chain again as Jake raided the industrial-sized towel room at the rear. “Any chance I can convince you to grab me some dry clothes?” he asked hopefully.

The grinning woman shook her head. “Nope! If you want someone to scrub your back though, I could—”

“You’re waiting by the door.”

Kat rolled her eyes. “You need to learn to let loose and enjoy yourself once in a while, gaijin.”

“By doing what? Killing some zombies while you look for hair dye?”

“Hair
color
. And don’t tell me kicking the snot out of zombies isn’t fun sometimes.” Kat turned to find him looking at her evenly. “What? Did I get some of your sweat-goop on my face earlier?”

Jake didn’t answer right away.

“Oh, gross! I did, didn’t I? Oh, man. Is there any in my
hair?
” Kat’s hands went up and she began running her fingers through her short, blue locks. “I hate it when that happens. This one time? I found a zombie’s molar stuck—”

“You’re fine,” Jake waved a hand in her direction. “Better than fine, actually.”

The ninja-girl let loose a dazzling smile. “Well, thank you. That’s the first compliment you’ve given me in quite a while. See? It didn’t sting much at all, now did it?”

Jake shook his head and moved towards the showers. “Look, just stay out here and watch the door, alright? I won’t be long. I feel like I haven’t eaten in forever.”

Her smile grew further. Kat leaned against the nearest row of lockers and crossed her arms under her breasts. Most men didn’t know about it, but that was an age-old female trick. Crossing your forearms under you boobs pulled them in and raised them up a little bit. It was a distractionary tactic, normally used when you either wanted to convey seriousness, or make a guy’s eyes pop out of their head like an old Loony Tunes cartoon character.

“Sure about that, are you? The ‘long’ part, I mean?.”

Jake sighed and discounted the sight of her cleavage completely. “As I was saying? I’m covered in sweat, and I feel hungry enough to eat a whole cow. I don’t know that you’d have to bother cooking it at this point, either. Just lop off the horns and hooves, then toss it on the plate while it’s still mooing.”

Kat pouted a bit. The ‘boob’ thing was one of her best moves, too. “Well, we’ve still got all the government issue bovine you could want. It’s not really steak... No, scratch that, it’s
nothing
like a steak, but there’s plenty of it.”

“That’ll do. I’m starving
.
Even the meatloaf MRE packet sounds good right now.”

That caused a giggle on her part. “Wow. You
must
be hungry.”

CHAPTER FIVE

 

 

 

“I can wash myself, thank you,” Jake told her firmly. For the sixth time, Kat had been insisting that, since they were the only two within the school, they had to remain together. She claimed it was so she could watch his back, but he didn’t buy that for a second.

“No one’s allowed to go anywhere alone. Buddy system, you know?”

“You could lock me in until you get back with some fresh clothing,” Jake suggested, removing his boots as he sat on the bench running down the center of the locker room. He wasn’t looking forward to putting his sweat-soaked clothes back on after getting clean again. “With the inside door secure, I’d be completely safe.”

The ninja-girl feigned a pained expression. “Huh-uh.”

“You’re not going to budge on this. Are you?”

“Nope. Sorry.” Kat didn’t look the least little bit sorry.

Jake realized at that point he wasn’t going to win said argument. “Okay, fine. But I damn-well better not see a certain blue-haired ninja—with an unexplainable love for Hello Kitty—peeking around the shower door.”

“Bite your tongue, gaijin. Hello Kitty is the
bomb
.”

“I’m just saying.” The writer doffed the sheath holding his crowbar, but carried it along as he moved towards the showers. Both of the entrances were locked tight against the infected, and the building was safely behind Langley’s fortified barricades, but you just never knew.

Said blue-haired ninja rolled her eyes.

What-
ever.
Not like I’ve never seen your junk before.”

Jake looked over his shoulder. “You have not ‘seen my junk.’”

“Who do you think cleaned you up while you were unconscious? George? Leo? A few of us have seen the goods.”

“What?” Jake’s eyes went wide at her revelation and he stopped dead in the shower doorway.

Kat shrugged. “It’s not like you were in any shape to bathe yourself.”

“Um. I’m not sure I’m okay with that,” Jake admitted with a frown.

Cho’s eyes went out of focus as she counted off on her fingers. “Let’s see. First there was me, and I’ll tell you this: It was an experience I won’t soon forget. Gwen was actually a nursing student before the dead rose and she’s given the infirm sponge baths before, so she spelled me every third day. Rae subbed in on the days I had to stay out overnight in the Hummer with the others. Not happy about
that
, by the way. I’m pretty sure Bee snuck a few turns in there, somewhere. Then Elle—”

“Are you telling me that half our group has seen me naked?” He demanded.

“Hey, you virtually saw me in the buff on the morning of the outbreak. It’s no biggie.” A mischievous smile bloomed on her face and Cho gave him a frank, appreciative look. “Well, actually it was a biggie. People keep saying size isn’t everything, but it doesn’t hurt. At least, not in a
bad
way.”

Jake coughed uncomfortably. “Moving on. Watch the doors, will you?”

“I got it, I got it.” Kat leaned against the outside of the shower wall as he began cautiously disrobing inside. “You’re just going to have to accept that this is the Apocalypse, and learn to live a little, big guy.”

He didn’t reply and Cho heard the water kick on inside the showers. She allowed herself a private smile. Jake was back. Maybe he wasn’t at one hundred percent, and the way he seemed to cycle into “Hulk Smash!” mode when faced with a zombie or six concerned her, but he wasn’t totally withdrawn any longer. Even though he was certainly still hurting—and would be for some time—she got the feeling he was finished with the bad part of his grieving process. Kat’s smile grew larger at the thought. She promised herself to take it slow from then on out. Jake would come around, and hopefully return her affection when he was ready, so she wouldn’t push the issue.

She heard him curse emphatically. Pushing away from the cinder blocks, Kat quickly loosened her grandfather’s sword in its sheath. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” he called back, sounding extremely perturbed. “Shit! How the hell can the water be this icy cold when it’s so hot outside? Isn’t the tank on the roof? In the blazing-goddamn-sun?”

Kat stifled a giggle.

“Thanks. I’m freezing my nuts off here and you’re laughing at my pain.”

“You’re a big boy. Or at least you will be once you warm up again.” The ninja-girl leaned against the wall once more. So what if she was closer to the doorway this time? “Believe me, a few hours in the garage and you’ll want to trot back over here for another glacier fed drenching.”

O’Connor grumbled and continued his cold shower. Kat, in a show of great restraint, waited almost a full minute before she silently padded over and cautiously looked around the doorway’s edge.

Jake had chosen to use a nozzle in the far left corner; partially because he could put his back to it if need be and only have to worry about fending off attacks from one direction, partially because he knew—no matter how carefully he watched the door—Kat was sure to attempt peeking at least once. Their group had agreed to leave a few bars of soap in the shower for expediency’s sake. That way, the women only had to cart whatever hair care products they preferred back and forth between the post office and the locker room. Jake, Leo, and George just used the soap to clean their hair (which incensed Bee greatly) but hey, they were guys, what could you do? As Kat looked on, Jake palmed a bar from the shelf next to the nozzle and started to soap his messy hair. She watched the cords in his back and arms clench while he scrubbed at his scalp, and her mouth went suddenly dry.

Wow. Kinda stuffy in here.
Kat thought as he worked up a good lather and began soaping towards his toes, glancing every so often towards the door. She pulled back each time he did so, easily avoiding notice, mentally counted to ten, and then eased forward to take in the view once more.

Kneeling beside the door-jamb helped.

That was an old assassin’s trick. Folks seldom looked down, or up for that matter, when checking for danger. They tended to search for threats at eye level; which made dangling overhead from the rafters, or hiding under a convenient stairwell, a great way to get close enough to do some wetwork. Preferably with something long, sharp, and pointy. Kat tended to keep little factoids like that to herself though. Telling other people about things of that sort only tended to upset them.

“So. I took Elle, Sampson, and Leo to scout around this morning. There’s not a ton of
them
in town, just enough to make it interesting. Oh, and we found a survivor.” Kat decided she should concentrate on something other than the soap running down Jake’s back.

“Really? That’s good news. I was beginning to wonder if we actually
were
the only ones left out here. What are they like?” The writer washed under his armpits and moved down his ribs.

“A teenage girl, about fifteen, named Mel. A little malnourished, but then again, aren’t we all.” Kat watched as Jake soaped along his hips and-

“Not really. In no small part thanks to what you’ve been doing, ever since my little breakdown.”

Kat was busy staring at the way water ran down Jake’s flank, so it took her a bit to realize he’d paid her a compliment. “Oh. Um. Well, spank…thank you! Thank you. It hasn’t been all me though. When we find foodstuffs other than our seemingly ever-present MRE supply, Leo’s been a godsend. Who knew being interested in culinary arts would be such a handy skill in a zombie apocalypse?”

“That’s the truth.” Jake put the soap bar back on the ledge and began rinsing off.

Kat’s brain nearly went into a lust-fueled meltdown.

Standing under the nozzle, water streaming along the lines of his form as he turned a slow 360, the writer was utterly drool-worthy. His torso rippled as he moved, stretching Jake’s already chill-taut skin over the carved muscles beneath. There were a pair of long healed scars on his back, balancing out the tattoo of Celtic knot-work on his right shoulder, and the scar from the Milo the Skinhead’s knife in his left shoulder. The first looked like a stab wound, centered just west of his right, external oblique above his buttock, at the small of his back. While very painful, that wouldn’t have been life threatening, but the other one had definitely been made by a bullet. Its entry, and subsequent removal, had puckered the skin in the center of his right shoulder-blade, leaving an indentation the size of a fifty-cent coin. Both moved out of sight as he continued to spin under the spray of the nozzle, which gave her a view not only of said tattoo on his right shoulder, but also down the front line of his body.

Kat’s jaw hung slack at the sight of him.

Would it be wrong to jump his bones, right here, right now? s
he thought.
Yeah, probably. Too much like the first time he and Laurel were together too. While I’m almost positive my roomie put a hurtin’ on him with that one, and it would be mind-blowing even with the cold water; duplicating sex with a previous partner would not be a good start to our relationship. I’ll just wait for a better opportunity. Dammit.

Over four months of celibacy and counting had done little to improve Kat’s mood. If she was honest, she thought of little else these days. She hid it well. The fact that there were ever-handy zombies about most times for Cho to take her aggression out on helped. It was however, the longest she had gone without some form of “nocturnal gymnastics” in the last few years.

Damn. The things we do for love.

“Sampson’s been fitting in, hasn’t he?”

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, fine.” Kat managed to pull her tongue up off the floor as Jake shut off the water and began drying himself. “Even though Henry’s still a beginner with a lot of the weapons we have, he’s been working with George and Elle whenever we stop. They’ll get him trained up.”

“Good. If you’re all determined to put me back in the driver’s seat, we’re going to change up our rotation. I want to start taking Henry and Rae out with us.” O’Connor toweled his hair briefly.

Kat frowned. “Henry I can understand, but why Rae? She’s frighteningly intelligent, but she doesn’t have that much experience with any form of real combat.”

“My thoughts exactly. None of us are really up for this kind of thing, so—”

“Speak for yourself.” Kat sniffed. “I’m pretty much a bad-ass when it comes to zombie slaying. Not too shabby at kicking the crap out of Nazis either.”

Jake snorted. “That’s true, but we all need to get in some trigger time. I want everyone to be as comfortable as possible; not just at using their weapons, but actually using them under pressure. We’ve been lucky so far. Sticking to the back roads and away from any cities, like we’ve done, has kept us hidden from large concentrations of the dead. I’m fairly sure, at some point, we’re going to encounter larger groups, though. I don’t want any of the others freaking out when the things are coming at us in greater numbers.”

He wrapped the towel around his midsection as best he could, retrieved his crowbar from against the wall of the shower, and headed back out into the locker room. Jake found Kat reclined along the bench running down the center aisle; legs crossed, hands pillowing the back of her skull, absently humming, “I Hate Myself for Loving You” by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. The writer gave her a suspicious look, rolled his socks and underwear into a tight bundle which he wrapped with his sweaty pants, and then took a seat on a nearby bench to put on his boots. He made sure he sat far enough away that she wouldn’t be able to look up his towel while he tightened his laces. That was something she’d do, if only to tease him about it later. He’d worn his kilt often enough however, that he knew how to move, sit, and even lie down, without unintentionally “flashing the family jewels.”

“Spoilsport.” Kat pouted, still looking at the drop ceiling of the locker room.

Jake ignored the comment, secured his assault boots temporarily, and stood. “I knew you’d try to look. Not everyone’s as comfortable with casual nudity as you are, you know.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said loftily.

Passing the strap to his crowbar sheath over one shoulder, Jake raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. A certain someone stretching daily at the back of the Mimi ring any bells for you?”

Kat’s gaze flicked to him in surprise. “Wait a minute. How did you know I’ve been doing that?”

The writer gave her a wry look. “For obvious reasons, I haven’t really slept much over the last two months and, if you’ll recall, my bunk is
right beside
the rear hatch? How could I possibly miss the show?”

“But, you were… Well, you know!”

He snorted again and passed a quick hand through his still-messy hair, doing it no good at all, but causing Kat’s fingers to itch with the need to smooth it herself. “Yeah, I was messed up, not
dead
. Watching you contort on the floor for almost an hour straight twice a day could cause a rock to sit up and pay attention.”

That was more than a little surprising. Cho hadn’t realized Jake had even noticed her daily activity. While her level of flexibility was impressive, to say the least, it would deteriorate quickly if she didn’t maintain it, so Kat had taken to rising in the wee hours of the morning and evening to stretch. Every day she arose naked save for a pair of briefs—to allow herself total freedom of movement—and proceeded to work out the kinks. She limbered up her core and shoulders, loosened her quadriceps and calves, then moved on to back bridges, along with butterfly and groin stretches. Sitting on the cool metal floor of the transport, she grasped her toes and folded her body in half until her temples literally rested between her knees. She did both forward and side splits with ease, rolling her hips forward and back to insure the maximum level of height if she needed to say, kick a Nazi—or zombie—in the teeth. Not surprisingly, her morning routine had been much more expedient as of late. Ever since Cho convinced Jake’s neighbor, the now-absent Gertrude, to give her a short, pixie-style haircut when they’d reached Rae’s junkyard cache. Not having to braid, twine, or stick her deep-blue hair—that once hung most of the way down her back—into a ponytail, greatly cut down the amount of “primp the mop” time she had to engage in exponentially. Besides, when Jake had seen her new do he’d smiled broadly, and then informed the already stunning woman her new cut took her up to “Keira Knightly level” hotness.

BOOK: Assuming Room Temperature (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 3)
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