Fight (NOLA Zombie Book 2) (3 page)

There was no way I was getting out of this without a little divine intervention.
Should I just let them bite me and get it over with or should I try and make a reach for my gun?
Any way I sliced it I was getting bit.
 

That divine intervention did happen. It came in the form of Zach. He slammed through the door and slashed at the zombies. He yanked them from me and stabbed them right in the brain in two quick motions. His movements were quick and precise. Before I could blink there were two dead zombies at my feet relieved of their damned existence.
 

I couldn’t move, I didn’t want to move. I just laid there on the dirty floor. I had been two seconds away from death.
 

Strong hands were pulling me up and then his arms came around me. The hug was desperate and tight. He hated when I went on runs and always insisted that he join me when he could. I could tell by the tremor in his hands as he wiped the blood off of my face that I wasn’t the only one affected by that little close call.
 

“Alexis, you scared me.”

“I think…well, yeah…I was pretty scared myself.”
 

He continued to wipe away the zombie blood and gore from my face, but his hands lingered too long, his blue eyes boring into mine. It made me nervous. He didn’t force himself on me. He waited for a sign from me. He looked so eager, so disturbed by my almost death, that I couldn’t help myself. I gave in a little, just an inch, a step closer. For the second time today I wanted to just give up, I wanted to stop the fight.
 

But that voice in my head screamed that I had to keep going, I had to fight. I must survive. Making things complicated between myself and Zach wasn’t conducive to my survival.

My thoughts drifted to that night, that first night on S-Island, the night we left the door open and Zach watched as Blake and I had sex. I could remember with stunning clarity the look in his eyes and how exciting it had been for me. How I had enjoyed watching him touch himself, his big, hard body exposed to my hungry gaze. The sound he made when he reached his climax,
it was so hot.

I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his. That was all it took.
 

He kissed me back eagerly. His kiss was careful and controlled. It spoke volumes of how he would be in the bedroom. His hands gripped me at the waist and held me still as his mouth joined with mine, lips, tongue and teeth all perfectly synced. He nipped at my bottom lip and I moaned in his mouth, pressing myself to the front of him, feeling his heavy erection through his jeans. Reality hit…it hit really hard.
What the fuck was I doing?
I pushed away from him almost spastically, slamming my hands hard against his chest.
I couldn’t do this.

“Hey, boss, I think I got it all, ready to head back?” Romeo pushed through the doors and stopped in mid stride when he took in our appearance and the way we were looking at each other.
 

“Shit, what happened?” He chose to ignore the awkwardness and focus on the dead zombies that lay strewn at our feet.

“There were three of them locked in the storage closet. Lex opened it and they almost got her.”

“Three, shit, there were three?” I noticed the third corpse to the left of me and sent up a silent prayer to a deity I didn’t even think existed.
 

“Yeah, they were all piled on top of you. I was afraid I would pull them off and find that they got you. Any bites, scratches?” He ran his hands over my arms and pulled my shirt away from my neck.

“No.” I swatted his hand away and stepped back. He frowned at my action and his eyes went cold.
 

“C’mon, let’s get the fuck out of here.” He pushed the cart toward me, his hard stare and tight lipped frown pissed me off.
What the hell did he expect?

Everything
.
 
My traitorous inner voice answered. I couldn’t even give him a little bit, he had to know that. I had fucked up royally with that kiss.

TWO

Living or Existing?

We came back with more supplies than we’d gotten in a while. We had become used to just picking up rations here and there, a few cans from a neighborhood, some beef jerky from the convenience store. The goal for our group was to become self-sufficient. Four months ago we began to plant. There hadn’t been a harvest yet and currently it was too cold for anything to grow, but we were hoping for something in the spring.

A few of the Islanders had talked of heat lamps and fish tanks. Their ultimate goal was to set up grow houses and fish farms that would feed off of each other. I wasn’t too educated on growing shit, but a few of our group seemed to know what they were talking about. We just had to make it through a couple more months and a few more supply runs.
 

What we did have going in our favor was our nearness to the lakes and marshes. There was an abundance of fish, frog, duck and even a few deer. In a few months, we would even have crawfish, not a lot of fixins’, but a girl couldn’t be that picky.
 

There were three Islanders waiting for us when we crossed the bridge into the compound. We had been spotted by the tower that guarded the entrance on our approach. They opened the access gate and we rolled through. Excited voices greeted us as they noticed how full the bed of the truck was.

“Quite a haul you guys got, Lex,” Isaiah Smith, our resident doctor, helped me out of the truck. I was stiff and sore from a day of hauling and from those stupid storage room zombies.
 

“Yeah, plenty of meds for you too, doc.” Isaiah hadn’t finished medical school, but he was as close as we got. He had come to S-Island by way of Cole Peters, one of the MJ grunts.
 
Peters had rescued him from a tree where he had been chased by a few zombies. I would have paid to see that shit. Smith wasn’t the most courageous of our group, but he knew a hell of a lot about healing. The meds we had rounded up could save a few lives.
 

Isaiah had set up an infirmary in the main building, what we called the barracks. It was now home to the cafeteria, infirmary, store and singles’ quarters. There was still plenty of room and a few of the Islanders had thought it was best to stay in the upstairs sleeping area instead of moving into the houses that dotted the island.
   

The group that lived in the barracks met us outside and helped us unload the truck. The barracks group was mostly the single members of our team, the ones that had worked for the firm pre-Z, and a few other stragglers that had come in with employees. The barracks group included Kirk, Marquez, and the only female team member, Hannah Klink, who everyone called Baby behind her back. Don’t call it to her face though. Her cute little face and body was a disguise for a lethal ass-kicker. She was one of the toughest of the MJ grunts.

“Damn, Alexis, y’all scored big.” She came up and slapped me on the back a little too hard.
 

“They hadn’t looted the store rooms and pharmacy.”
 

“Our gain.” She grabbed a box and carted it to our storage area, it had to weigh fifty pounds and she swung it around like it was nothing.
 

The barracks was just a large warehouse with a second floor that had been converted into offices and sleeping berths. Downstairs held the kitchen, cafeteria, infirmary and plenty of storage, which we called the store.
Creative
,
I know
. Before, Zach had used it for training and personnel retreats. Now it was our lifeblood. It was where we all hung out together, held meetings, kicked back, and ate our meals.

In addition to the main building, there was another warehouse, which was practically empty and used for storage and vehicles. The best thing about S-Island, in my opinion, was the houses. The developer had constructed ten houses, but they were all in different stages of construction when he went bankrupt and sold the island. Blake and Zach had finished them after they purchased the properties, hoping to one day use them for themselves and employees. Today they housed survivors. All ten were not occupied though. Only a few were claimed by Islanders, but those occupied were filled to capacity. Furniture was scavenged from nearby neighborhoods and the few family units we had in the compound teamed up and lived together. The houses were nice and spacious and the few kids of the group felt more at ease living in the houses. The Peters had even found a trampoline and were working on scavenging a swing-set.

When the last of the boxes were put away, I was about ready to drop. I said my goodbyes, grabbed a to-go plate from the cafeteria and headed to my house.

I shared a house with Zach, the big one at the tip of S-Island. The house had originally been meant for the developer and was sort of the compound show-piece, but it was in a bad strategic and defensive location, so no one wanted to move into it.
 
When Blake had left, I had spent a few days wallowing in the office that we had shared, but quickly got tired of my own pity party and moved into the house. At about the same time, Zach had decided to give the house he occupied, the one closest to the barracks, to Cole Peters and his family. So, it just seemed natural for us to both take up residence in the big house. It was a bitch walking back and forth since it was the farthest from the barracks but I liked the isolation and would have worried if anyone had lived there. It also had plenty of extra room, so Zach and I had set up a work-out room and backup
 
communications station in case the one at the barracks went down.
 

The house had also been furnished well and used rarely. Blake and Zach had used it for clients as a weekend wine and dine experience. The house looked over Lake Borgne and sat almost fifteen feet off the ground. I really did enjoy going home every night. But lately the fact that it was just me and Zach alone in this great big house had become an ever present buzz. I was aware of him from the moment he stepped foot in the house. I told myself that it was only self-consciousness, that it was because of his budding interest that I was so affected by him.
 
It didn’t have anything to do with me or my feelings.

To try and cut down on the awkwardness, I tried to get Baby and Romeo to move in with us, but they liked the barracks.
Go figure
.

There were still a few houses that sat empty and unfurnished. We could probably take in another fifty survivors if we wanted. Granted, we wouldn’t be able to feed all of them, but we had the living space,
bring on more apocalypse buddies!
The coldly logical side of me didn’t want any part of this train of thought. Just because we had the space, didn’t mean we would throw open our doors and let in anyone that had their hand out. We had a good thing going here and introducing a new group might make or break us. It was those types of things that went through my brain constantly, especially as we were faced with other survivors on our supply runs. None had asked for shelter, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before we had to make that type of decision.
 

I walked down the dirt road that passed behind all the houses. The fronts faced the water and each house had its own personal dock. Our new wall cut off access to the personal docks, but the raised houses could look over the wall and had nice views of the water. The Voiters lived in the second house next to the Peters. They were bustling about on the large wrap-around porch and they all looked up and waved as I passed. The family was made up of Barbara and Hank Voiter. Hank was Romeo’s brother and found his way to the compound with Romeo’s assistance. Barbara had only just married Hank, so they hadn’t had time for children, but she was one of those women meant for mothering. She took one look at Uma and Reese and welcomed them into her home with open arms. The girls were flourishing under Barbara’s care.
 

The house next to the Voiter’s was occupied by a group that had joined S-Island about three months ago. Vance Ito was one of Zach’s employees, an MJ grunt that hadn’t been able to make contact with Zach after the outbreak. He finally made it to the compound after a three-month struggle across the city. Assuming the compound was an optimal place for survival, along the way he picked up Duke Nunez, a colorful man from Chalmette, Louisiana, Justin Crips, a lawyer from Uptown, Frank Boudreaux, a fisherman from the West Bank, and Jimmy Camp, a former Army mechanic, a great group of men. Justin felt a little outmatched being a former rich lawyer with hardly any life skills, but he helped out in the kitchen as much as possible and that was all that mattered.

Duke had moved into the barracks with Marquez, Romeo, and Baby, but the rest of them were doing well as roommates in the third house. They threw quite a party too, and from the sounds that were emanating from the house, another one was just about to get started.
 

It usually took me about ten minutes to walk from the barracks to my house, give or take. It was dependent on my pace and how many people were outside and wanted to chat. Luckily everyone was involved in their own daily chores and I got away with a quick wave as I passed each of my fellow survivors.
 

Zach was waiting for me when I crossed the threshold, Charlie, my German Shepherd, at his side. I had been avoiding him since we came back. I didn’t want to discuss what had happened in the storeroom. I didn’t even want to think about it. We had a good thing going and adding some bullshit sexual tension between the two of us was gonna mess up my head. I was already too aware of him.

“Alexis.”

“Zach.” I patted my thigh for Charlie to come to me and he obeyed, trotting to my side. I ran my hands through his fur in a comforting move that helped settle me.

“You need something?” I asked, trying to stifle a yawn. I was dead on my feet and I didn’t want to deal with this right now.

“I thought we should talk.”

“If it’s about what happened on the run, I don’t want to talk about it, Zach. That shouldn’t have happened. I was grateful I was alive, that was it. Sorry to get you all,” I waved my hands in the air at him, “worked up.”