I shut down that line of thought. If they weren’t fine, then I wasn’t fine. Nothing would ever be fine again.
We both saw it at the same time—an infected crouching in the lawn to our right, a mutilated corpse lying mangled beneath it. It wasn’t the first infected we’d seen, but it was the first one we’d seen inside our city. As we stared openmouthed at the creature, it gave us nothing more than a casual glance as we drove past, more interested in its meal than anything else.
“It’s Patterson,” I said hoarsely, finally recognizing the infected. The old war vet’s usually white beard and mustache were nearly black with blood and gore, but I would have recognized that camouflage jacket anywhere.
“No,” Jeffers mumbled, his voice breaking over the word. “No, no, no ... they weren’t here yet. It wasn’t here. It wasn’t here!”
Yanking the steering wheel, he drove up onto the lawn only three houses down from his own. The next several seconds went by in a blur of color. The Donovans’ home, my home, Old Mrs. Maisie’s home ...
Jeffers’s home.
He punched the brake pedal with such force the truck lurched forward, sending us both nearly into the dashboard as the vehicle sputtered and stalled to a stop. Without bothering to take the keys from the ignition, Jeffers leaped from the driver’s side and was already halfway to the porch by the time I’d managed to get the passenger side open.
“Layla,” he shouted, pounding on the front door between the slats of wood we’d nailed over it. “Layla, baby, we’re back!”
Gripping my rifle, I jogged past him, scanning the windows of his home and noting that all the boards were still in place. Everything looked good, just how we’d left it. Secure. Fine. Everything was fine.
“Everything is fine,” I muttered as I reached the gate. Since it was only waist high, I gripped the flimsy metal and launched myself up over it.
Nothing seemed out of place. The swing set Jeffers and I had built by hand was still standing, untouched. The kiddie pool that sat opposite it was still half full, toys floating inside, the water clogged with leaves and grass ... and the shed—
I stopped, frozen in place. The double doors of the shed were wide open, one door only half hanging on as if someone had pried it off its hinges with a crow bar to bypass the locks.
I spun around, my breath caught in my throat, my gaze reaching the back door of the house.
“Layla!” Jeffers bellowed, darting past me. Yanking the ajar screen door wide open, Jeffers disappeared into his home, leaving me standing alone outside, staring in horror at the pile of boards lying on the lawn.
Someone had broken in, purposefully pried every board off the door and broken inside. Inside where Jeffers’s wife and daughter were. Inside where my wife was. Where my kids were.
I couldn’t move; I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bring myself to put one foot in front of the other to see what awaited me inside. Or what wasn’t waiting for me ...
Maybe help had come? Maybe the army or the Red Cross, maybe someone had come and gotten them out. Maybe right now they were all safe and sound—
Jeffers’s scream pierced my thoughts, making my stomach clench painfully.
“Jeff!” I shouted as I took off at a run toward the screaming.
• • •
I opened my eyes to the realization that my ears still rang with the sound of screaming, and my throat was dry and scratchy from my own shouts. My hands tensed, my muscles flexed, and the throat I was holding convulsed within my grip. The warm body beneath mine twitched and my hips surged, grinding my partial erection against the soft, exposed skin of a feminine thigh.
Still half asleep, I squeezed the throat harder, eliciting a hoarse gasp from its owner that caused me to grow harder and search higher, seeking not just warmth, but the wet warmth only a woman could provide. If only this particular woman would make some fucking noise, and didn’t smell so bad.
Wait, what the fuck?
I blinked, once, twice, clearing away the early morning haze of sunlight and dust motes, and found a pair of wide, bulging eyes staring back at me, and a mouth partially open and gasping for air. I blinked again, confused for a moment until I slowly recognized my surroundings. And the nearly naked girl lying beneath me.
“Fuck!”
I instantly released Autumn’s throat. Rolling off her, I jumped up, immediately propelling myself off the mattress. Backing quickly away, I watched as she rolled to one side and started to cough, clutching her throat.
“I’m sorry,” I said, choking over my words. “I’m sorry ... I didn’t realize ...”
Autumn, teary eyed and obviously terrified, attempted to sit up on the bed. Still coughing, she scooted sideways across the mattress, plastering herself against the far wall, looking as if she hoped the damn thing would swallow her whole.
“Y-y-you were ... shouting,” she said, her voice small and hoarse. “I tried to wake you, but you wouldn’t shut up. The biters were going to hear you, the people were going to hear you, and then y-y-you ...”
She glanced down and I followed her gaze to the torn T-shirt hanging off her body, leaving one of her breasts exposed. Emitting a garbled squeak of surprise, she grabbed the ripped edges and tightly pulled them together. Pressing her lips together, her mouth formed a hard, thin line as she turned away from me.
