Page 129 of Bound in Ashes

That way I’d get to Evan, and things would be how they should have been.

How they would have been if I didn’t let myself get soft.

Hadn’t let them make me soft.

The wind blew again, but this time it didn’t bring memories of Asia.

Instead, it brought that ever-present scent.

Death.

I unsheathed my knife, then looked around.

Saw a man shamble off the shoulder.

He wore gray and green flannel pajamas and brown suede slippers with fuzzy insides.

I was sure Levi had a pair just like them.

I buried my knife in its temple, then pulled it out, ignoring the squelch of coagulated blood or the disgusting sounding thump as the zombie crumbled to the asphalt.

“Get it together, Thorne,” I said.

I kept walking, like the hounds of hell were at my back.

And in some ways they were.

Still, I made it a good distance that day.

Ten miles, and tomorrow I’d make it farther.

I tried to find a place to hole up but heard something rustle in the woods.

Pulled out the knife again and listened.

It wasn’t them.

It was people.

Best to keep moving, but something held me in place.

I heard a sharp sigh, then more rustling.

“Goddamn it, you dumb bitch. Why did you drop that?”

“Ian. She’s nine. It was hot.”

I heard the trepidation in the woman’s voice. Heard every waver as she spoke.

Told myself to turn and walk away, even as my feet pulled me closer.

In addition to being an asshole, Ian was a moron.

He had set up in a clearing, started a fire big enough to help a plane land.

And he was currently towering over a small girl with blonde pigtails.

A woman, maybe twenty-five, thin, dirty, and terrified, put herself in front of the girl.