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Authors: Bonnie R. Paulson

Mostly Dead (Barely Alive #3) (20 page)

BOOK: Mostly Dead (Barely Alive #3)
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His confidence reeked like garlic on a first kiss. “I’ve sent my army after the pitiful humans you’ve got set up. Molotov cocktails. Hell. But to be fair, pretty ingenious.” Dominic paced back and forth in front of me, completely relaxed in the situation.

Honestly, I’d passed fear and headed straight into horrified.

He couldn’t outlive me.

James walked around the corner of the house, a fresh cocktail in each hand. He fell into a crouching stance at seeing Dominic. “What’s going on? How’d you get here?”

Dominic turned, opening his arms wide. “James! I’m so happy to see you here.” He clasped his hands in front of his chest. “It makes my job easier, you know. Nice and tidy.”

James didn’t answer. He rounded behind Dominic with plenty of room and took up a position behind me. I had strength.

The front door slammed shut. Mom and Grandma Jean walked down and stood beside James, their presence more than welcome. Grandma Jean’s blood smeared where she’d wiped at it.

Dominic laughed, hard and cruel. “
Oh, look, Paul. Your fan club is here.” He narrowed his eyes and wagged his finger. “You’re not afraid to face me alone, are you? ‘Cause that’s the vibe your little groupies are giving.”

“Why, Dom? You afraid you can’t take us?” I
ignored the challenge in his voice. I didn’t really care if he took me up on it or not. All I wanted to see was Dominic’s death. Regardless of
how
it happened. I’d take it.

He threw back his head and laughed, the sound mingling with the sarcastic sizzling of the fire. The one thing that could kill us. The one thing that licked its way toward us.

Another swing of the door and it closed with a bang. Dominic and I both glanced at the deck. Who could it be?

Heather stood at the top of the steps, Connie and Travis positioned at her sides and slightly behind her.

The color didn’t need to be present for me to see them. She was burned in my mind, every curl, every hue and tone. She had browns in her hair that wouldn’t be anywhere else on the face of the earth. Her lips… her skin… I could monologue her perfections for the rest of my minutes. But I had to first make sure she’d be safe.

Dominic cooed. “Hello, Heather, doll.
Are you ready to go?” He looked past her and the cruel slant to his mouth solidified in hatred. “Ah, the lovely Duncans. How is the happy couple today? Everything going okay?”

The dickhead’s audacity surpassed all boundaries. My fingers and toes tingled but I think because I wanted to hit him and kick him, not because the nerves were exposed.
Well, that too. “Enough.” Fire had encircled half the borders. Heather’s curls clung to her neck and forehead from the sweat. I couldn’t see Grandma Jean and Mom because they stood behind me.

A girl ran past us – James’s friend. “The fire is out of control. We’re getting out of here.” She held onto the hand of her sister. But she ran too close to Dominic.

He struck with one hand and knocked her to the ground. He bent down. “Yum.” Lowering his head, he moved to bite her rising and falling chest.

James’s rage filled me. I could feel it, taste it. He
dropped the unlit cocktails and rushed past me, his arms held out front.

Dominic lifted his head just as James made contact. They stumbled to the ground. Now, why couldn’t I do that?

They rolled back and forth, James moving in for a bite, Dominic on top angling his head for the same thing.

Mom behind me, yelled, “Paul! Help him.”

My dying faculties left me encumbered and slow to react. What did I do? How did I help James? I couldn’t move fast enough.

James’s rage fueled me. For some reason, the emotion pushe
d back the sharp sting of hunger. My mind cleared. I stepped forward, but didn’t get too close. My mind may have been clearer, but my muscle mass hadn’t increased. I wasn’t stupid.

I stared at Dominic. Something had made him stop in the woods when he’d tried forcing my dad’s death on me. Desperation had me reaching out for anything. He couldn’t hurt James. I didn’t know how long my brother had, but he sure as hell would have longer than me.

My eyes narrowed and I clenched my jaw. I not only thought the words, I felt them zing through me like my skin spoke. “
Dominic. Stop. Do not fight James.”

And he stopped moving astraddle James. His hands fell to his sides and James shoved him over. Dominic toppled like a tree and didn’t stop himself from landing hard on his side. His eyes were round and large.
James got up on all fours and crawled to his girl. He scooped her into his arms and motioned for her weeping sister to follow him.

Passing me, he nodded. “Thanks, Paul. I need to get them out of here. Keep going. Don’t let him win.”

James needed to leave. I accepted that. Over my shoulder, I called out, “Mom, Grandma Jean, take Heather and go with James. This place isn’t going to make it. You need to get out now.”

Heather cried out and ran down the stairs to my side. I didn’t look away from Dominic, pinning him with my anger and desperation. She grabbed my hand. “No, Paul. I can’t leave you. We belong together. Don’t make me go. Please.”

I yanked my arm from her and moved closer to Dominic. “Go, Heather. Just go.”

The heat on my back called me. I wouldn’t escape it
s pull any longer. I needed to grab Dominic and jump into the flames. If Dominic died, maybe the zombies wouldn’t be so single-minded. They’d be easier to kill without the strategies playing out in Dominic’s mind.

I didn’t wait to see if Heather did as I said. She had to get out of there, but her grandmother would have to corral her. Gravel crunched under my feet as I walked to Dominic’s side.

His eyes moved when I did. I crouched beside him. Somehow, I’d pinned him. I didn’t want to let go, but I couldn’t lift him. Not in my condition. And I needed him in the flames not lying on the grass. “It’s over, Dominic.”

I released him, prepared for a fight. But when I relaxed my hold on his mind, he calmly sat up and dusted off the sleeves of his button up shirt. Knees drawn up to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them and clasped his hands. He rocked back and met my gaze, boredom lowering his lids.

Anti-climactic. I hated expecting one thing and experiencing something less dramatic.

“Is that all you’ve got?” His silky words slithered the few inches to me with a scaly undercoat.

I tilted my head. “Is that all I’ve got? You’re mine, bitch.” Oh, it felt so good to say that.

He showed his teeth. “Okay.” The same expression he’d had before forcing me to watch him ambush my dad
flickered across his face.

Slam. I tackled him before he could try another mind trick and strengthened my emotional barrier against his
onslaught. Crackle and pop, like a cereal on subwoofers, surrounded us. Whirls and swishes in the air as sparks flew above us. “Look up, Dominic. Look at the fire. Isn’t it awesome?” I reached up and held his face still in my hands. “Look, dammit!”

He looked. And paused. The fire called to him. His fierce struggling dimmed. Bit by bit, I relaxed my hold. He didn’t move. I rolled off him, and allowed myself to be swayed by the flames rising into the sky. I wanted to see the orange and reds, yellows, the
sparks. But all I could make out was a varied scale between the blackest black and the brightest white in the center of the hottest flames.

Without looking at me or anywhere but the flames, Dominic’s maniacal laugh carried on the breeze. He broke off and stood, his eyes trained to the woods.

The only way to make sure the bastard burned was to walk in with him.

That was it. My last few moments on earth. I could do it.
The alternative had no appeal. It was my chance.

Beside Dominic, I glanced at him every few feet. We didn’t have far to go. For some reason, I wasn’t as drawn in by the colorless flames like he seemed to be.

Hot. Heat increased with each step.

I allowed myself to wish. I wished I hadn’t been so jealous of Mom’s boyfriend that I’d left. I wished I hadn’t listened to the crap Dominic had spouted. I wished I hadn’t allowed the prick to infect me. I wished… I wished I’d kissed Heather – a real, soul-molding kiss. Just one.

More frustration with my walk of death overflowed and I pushed Dominic’s shoulder. Ten feet from the forest line he stopped. He couldn’t look away. But he gave me one last taunt. One more challenge I wouldn’t be able to fight because the fire clutched at my insides and I craved the inner warmth it promised. The smoke made his voice raspy and his hunger added a hollowness. “They won’t stop… my zombies. They’ll cover the planet and take all life with them. You won’t be around to see it. I won. I won, Paul. I won.” He laughed. Again.

Then he reached for my arm and shoved me toward the flames. I grasped his sleeve and held on, tucking into a ball and throwing myself to the floor
, coming to a stop against a toppled tree trunk.

Dominic stumbled. He fell forward pulled by the momentum of my fall.
Missing the trunk, he rolled. Into the fiery edge.

His shi
rt caught and he slapped at flames licking the loose tails. His hair lit up and he reminded me of the pictures of Satan that I’d seen in art class. But he stopped and watched as a flame curled around his sleeve and arced up his hand.

Without another sound, he turned and walked into the forest burning like the guts of a furnace.

The fire had drawn him in. He was lost to it.

I
lay on the ground. I wanted to help the people in the ditches. I wanted to do so many things.

But I pushed myself from the crispy
grass and used a nearby tree trunk to help me stand. Back against the bark, I watched tree trunks and branches fall in the fire. The propane tanks exploded and the ballooning heat sucked at my reserves.

I licked my lips. I just needed enough energy to get my ass in there.

Four feet from the edge of the fire, part of me didn’t want to walk in. I hesitated, stalling for some kind of confidence that what I was doing was the right thing. Maybe a sign from the universe. The hair on my arms shriveled in the heat.

A hand clenched my upper bicep and pulled me around the tree and a few more feet from the inferno.

Freezing cold water drenched me from head to toe. Spluttering, I wiped the moisture from my eyes and barked out through chattering teeth, “What the hell?” Drenched, my clothes hung from my thinning frame.

Heather hadn’t let go of my arm. She pulled me further from the edge, closer to the house. I tried stopping, but her strength surpassed my own.

My mom sprayed at the fire line. On the other side of the house, Grandma Jean sprayed the walls of the shed with the second hose.

Exhausted, I looked at the distance separating me from the fire. Thirty feet. I doubted I’d be able to make it again. My energy had dropped so low.

My heart beat couldn’t be pumping more than forty beats a minute, if that.

Breaths were short and shallow. My eyes fl
uttered and couldn’t focus. I didn’t want Heather to see me up close. My body was at death’s door.

“Paul.” She cradled my face in her hands, her skin hot on my cheeks. I wanted to see her, really see her, but my eyes roved around like googly eyes on dolls.
Heather sobbed. She breathed out. “I don’t want you to die. Not like this.”

A sharp stabbing pain split through my chest.
This is it.
My heart was going to stop beating. Any second. One, two, three, four, five…

Heather planted her lips on mine. The sensation overr
ode even the pain in my ribcage. She pushed against me, holding my face still. I didn’t respond physically, but mentally I held her and kissed her back.

She moved her lips, pushing mine apart. I didn’t fight her. I had no energy left.
If I’d stopped to eat, I could’ve played for a bit. Damn it.

No! Heather don’t put your tongue in my mouth!
But I couldn’t scream it at her, or pull away. I couldn’t stop her. As our tongues touched stars exploded in my head. My nerves sang and pulsed with my racing heart. She traced my lips with her tongue and nipped my bottom lip. Her hands slid from my cheeks to the back of my head. Fingers threaded through my hair. She pulled me lower, angling my head and hers. The kiss deepened.

And holy hell, I was participating! I don’t know where the energy came from, but I moved my tongue with hers.

She slowed the kiss down, backing away and leaving me breathless.

But… how had that happened? I couldn’t breathe before, nothing deeper than the shallowest of gasps. My heart beat strengthened, the beats thicker sounding like they pumped solid blood.

Heather’s blue eyes gazed into mine. Her brown hair mussed and adorably framed her pale peach skin.

Wait. Color?

I glanced down at her chest – not like that – and noticed the colors of her shirt. The center of my vision had color, the edges still colorless. But as I stood there, looking around, color bled to the edges, leaving behind a highly defined spectrum of color I don’t remember ever seeing.

BOOK: Mostly Dead (Barely Alive #3)
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