Cruz would only be out there for a few minutes, and I needed to get moving so he wouldn't catch me in the middle of a bathing session when he returned. I grabbed towels and face washers from the linen cupboard, snagged my backpack on the way out, and headed straight through the rear door. We'd cleared the yard yesterday and made sure the side gate was locked, so I hurried to the water tank in the corner and dropped my supplies.
With a quick glance at the back of the house, I slipped behind the tank to relieve my bladder—one of the major downsides to losing modern conveniences. When I was done, I stripped down to my sports bra and briefs and got straight to work.
The water was so cold it stole my breath, and I gasped as my skin turned pink. In the chill of the morning air, I lathered up one of the face washers and scrubbed myself from head to toe, checking the back door as I took care of the more private areas. I even managed to hold my head under the tap and shampoo my hair, shivering violently the entire time.
Once I was done, I felt wide awake and human again.
I draped a towel around me to use as a shield, then removed my wet underwear and slipped into clean briefs and a plain beige bra—the last undergarments I still owned after everything had been stolen from us. With only one change of clothes left in my backpack, I dressed in cargo pants and a grey tee. As I was pulling on my socks and boots, the rear door opened and Cruz came outside carrying his backpack.
As he stepped down from the deck and headed straight for me, I finger-combed my hair into a ponytail and worked the wet strands until they were smooth. “How did it look out there?” I asked, twisting a hair tie into place.
Cruz dumped his pack beside mine and toed off his boots. “The corpses from last night took off. Looks like we’ll have a clear run.”
“So we can start our search for a car all over again?”
He must have heard the resignation in my voice because he smiled in understanding. “It’s a pain in the ass, I know, but it needs to be done.”
He stripped off his t-shirt and went to work on the waistband of his jeans, as if we'd known each other for years and getting undressed in front of me was a totally normal part of our day. My breaths turned shallow at the thought of seeing more of him again, and I shamelessly took in the view. His body was lean and strong, with dark hair sprinkled across his pecs that met in the middle and travelled in a thin line toward the top of his boxer briefs. He had a gorgeous, highly detailed tattoo on the upper arm of a kneeling angel with her wings extended. I somehow missed that during my freak-out yesterday.
I wanted to touch him. Or lick him. Maybe both if he didn't mind too much.
“Are you just going to take off all your clothes while I’m standing right here?” I asked, wishing my voice didn’t have to sound so wistful.
He sent me a smiling glance as he pulled off his jeans. “Are you just going to hang around and watch me strip? I hate to point out the obvious, but you don’t need to be here.I've been dressing and undressing myself for years.”
Oh, God. I didn't. I really didn’t. I should have been inside packing and getting ready to leave, not hanging around like I'd bought front-row tickets to a male strip show. “Um, yes. You're right.” With an awkward smile, I stepped away from him and pointed to the little stool beside the tank. “I’ve left a towel and face washer there for you. There’s some shower gel and shampoo. Deodorant. I’ll just... shut up now and... go inside.”
Cruz smiled as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxer briefs. “I’ll be there soon. Try not to peek through the window.”
My mouth went dry at the thought.
I rolled my eyes and turned away, heading back to the house with a hot face and a tingling body.
Ten
Liv
By late morning, our mission to find a vehicle was starting to feel like a lost cause, and without a mode of transport, we couldn't make it to Bridgehill.
If we didn't go to Bridgehill, what then?
After Haruto had shown me the article with its inviting pictures and descriptions, the idea of having heating, hot water, and electricity again quickly implanted itself in my mind. All those basic conveniences that we used to take for granted could have been ours—which meant a shower and a toilet. An actual working toilet.
Now? At least I had Cruz, and I most definitely didn't take him for granted.
He and I sat outside the last house we’d rifled through to go over our options. In the end, we decided to head for the city limits in our beaten, broken car to try our luck closer to the highway. A ton of people fled when the hysteria hit full force, and many were caught up in traffic congestion or stuck on streets that were blocked by the army to direct the flow. When they couldn't physically drive any farther, news reports had shown them taking off on foot in a panic, somehow believing their chances of survival would be improved by leaving a populated area without the safety net of a car between them and the dead.
As much as I didn't like capitalising on their horrible experiences, we were hoping those people had left keys in their abandoned cars, but muscle memory could be a bitch and habit may still have won out.
We hadn't even reached the highway when we stumbled onto more deserted cars than I’d ever seen in one place. They wereeverywhere, all different types of vehicles crammed together at strange angles.
I hadn't visited this part of the city since the pandemic. It would have taken me too long to reach the outskirts in the limited time I spent outside, and I refused to push my luck in case I didn't make it back to Haruto. Although I knew the area well—especially the pubs and nightclubs from my younger years—I hadn't seen it like this before.
Cruz pulled over, and we climbed out and slipped our backpacks on. We both drew our knives and spent a silent moment taking in the scene. Some of the vehicles had been dumped at the side of the road while others were stopped in the middle. A garbage truck, motorbikes, family cars, delivery vans. A few push bikes were lying on their sides.
It looked like a horde of the dead had come through at some point, and the people who'd originally been trying to leave were overwhelmed. There were bloody, smeared handprints on metal, belongings scattered across the bitumen, and dead bodies all over the place. From a glance, I guessed the humans had fought back and taken down a large number of the infected, but the homicide detective beside me would have a better idea of how it had played out.
As the autumn sun heated up our surroundings, the smell intensified right along with it, and I had to steel myself against the assault on my senses. It was a surreal experience standing amongst such widespread devastation and seeing the violence up close.
