Page 39 of My Undead Love Life

“Sorry,” I repeated, though I could barely look at any of them…especially Mad.

Luck gave me a sleepy, knowing look. “We know. You just violently fled a cuddle. Happens all the time.”

“A cuddle?” Oxi frowned, glancing at Mad and I.

“It was not a cuddle,” I denied in a rush.

Mad glanced at me. “It was an accidental, unconscious, survival-based heat-sharing arrangement,” he explained, taking pity on me.

Oxi lowered his sword and stared at him. “That was the worst explanation I’ve ever heard.”

Luck snorted. “Right?”

Mad’s mouth twitched, barely, but it was enough for me to notice. I had become painfully aware of him in a way I hadn’t been before.

The subway tunnel around us felt colder than it had before I woke. The air tasted staler today, damp with the same old rot, rust, and sour trace of still water somewhere beyond the reach of light.

Mad must have felt the change in the atmosphere, too, because the amusement left his face. He looked over his shoulder toward the long stretch of dark subway ahead of us. “It’s been too quiet,” he said.

Luck stopped rubbing his eyes. “I noticed that last night.”

Oxi’s hand tightened around his sword again. “I noticed it the moment we left the closet.”

“We all did.” I looked into the darkness with them, and my embarrassment faded beneath something colder—survival.

The tunnel stretched outside this train car. There was endless darkness beyond the reach of our flashlights. There was no shuffling, distant moans, dragging feet, or wet, broken breathing. It was too unnerving.

“Let’s move,” Mad ordered.

We packed everything up without argument. Luck checked the straps on his bag twice, his earlier sleepiness gone from his expression. Oxi kept glancing over his shoulder while he shoved things into place, his jaw tight. Mad moved with the steady, controlled efficiency that made me feel safe around him. It also made me aware that he knew something was wrong.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew the signs. I trusted my gut, and my gut told me something was coming.

When I checked my bag, I had to stop myself from looking back at the place where I had been sleeping against Mad. It felt too normal. Like I was…with Keith. Almost. It was different from what I felt with Keith…but thinking like this wasn’t fair, to Mad or to Keith.

“It’s weird, right?” Oxi mumbled, zipping his bag up.

“Yeah,” Luck said. He looked out the door into the darkness of the tunnel. “It doesn’t get this quiet unless…”

“Unless a horde is about to come through,” I finished for him, ignoring the chill snaking down my spine.

I tried to measure time in my head, counting back through the last few days, the start of the run, and the last time we had been secured in the treehouse when the horde went through. Nothing added up. “But it’s already past the time the horde usually runs through.”

“I know,” Mad muttered, stepping up to the subway doors with Luck. “The timing has been getting less predictable.”

“Unfortunately,” Oxi grunted.

“Looks like we’re on borrowed time, then.” Luck let out a heavy breath.

Mad braced his hands against one of the train car doors while Luck took the other. The metal was dented and filthy, with old paint scraped away. When they tried to force them open, the doors resisted with a grinding shriek that made every muscle in my body lock. But they kept going until the doors opened with an echoing bang. The sound crashed down the tunnel, bounced off tile and concrete, and rolled away into the dark.

We froze.

Nothing sounded after. No groans or sudden rushes of bodies. Just an eerie silence, waiting for us down the tunnel.

“Those fucking zombies are a hell of a lot smarter than they used to be.” Oxi stepped out.

“No kidding,” Mad hissed as we all got out and started down the tunnel again.