Page 71 of My Undead Love Life

We had been trapped in the mall for two months.

The horde outside was just starting to thin. Not by much, but enough that we could see gaps forming between clusters of bodies when we looked down from the roof. Where there had once been a solid mass of undead movement, there were now patches of empty snow. Thin lines opened between them.

Some were still moving, dragging stiff limbs through the snow. Some were half-buried in drifts, their arms reaching uselessly through the white. Some stood frozen in place, gray faces tipped toward the sky, mouths open as if the cold had frozen them in time.

The last storm had actually helped. It was still snowing, but the temperatures had warmed just enough during the day that parts of the drifts had sagged and melted. Slushy rivulets ran along the edges of the roof, dripping steadily over the side. There was a constant drip up here now.

It would have been peaceful if everything below us wasn’t dead.

Winter was always awful, and I knew the snow would come back worse than before. One warmer day didn’t mean the city was thawing.

But with how much the horde was thinning, perhaps it would pass by before that happened. If the zombies were still here when the storms rolled in again…we might never be able to leave.

I tried not to think about that as I stood on the roof alone, bundled in layers that still didn’t keep out the cold. My gloves were stiff around my fingers. I came up here to forget everything for a little bit.

Exhaling slowly, my breath fogging in the cold air as I drew the katana from its sheath. The blade slid free with a soft rasp. I shifted my stance, boots crunching lightly on the snow that covered the roof. It had frozen in places overnight, forming a thin icy shell over softer powder beneath. It cracked under my weight but held. I sliced my katana through the cold air with a sharp hiss.

Akiko’s voice echoed in my memory.

Don’t fight the weapon. Let it flow.

I stepped again, pivoting on my heel without slipping. The sword followed the motion of my body. Cold burned my lungs as I breathed, but the rhythm helped steady my mind. Muscle memory knew what to do even when my thoughts didn’t align.

This weapon demanded focus, and that was exactly why I kept coming up here. Downstairs, there were too many things to think about. Up here, there was only breath, cold, my katana, and precise movement.

My shoulders rolled smoothly as I brought the blade around, then drew it back in a controlled arc. The sword felt heavier in the cold.

Keith’s face still haunted my dreams, and every book I read reminded me of him. But the katana kept my grief from swallowing me whole.

Another swing.

Another breath.

Then, something moved below that was not part of the horde.

There was always movement below as the undead stumbled and dragged themselves through the snow in uneven patterns. But this movement was different. It was intentional.

I slowed, lowering the katana slightly as my eyes drifted toward the edge of the roof.

The parking lot below was mostly white, aside from the zombies. A shadow separated itself from the snow.

My stomach dropped.

It stood between two half-buried cars near the edge of the lot, so still that I wondered how long it had been there before I noticed it. Its fur blended almost perfectly with the snow, pale gray and white with dark rosettes scattered across its body. Its long tail curved behind it, the tip twitching once.

It was a snow leopard.

My fingers tightened around the hilt of my katana.

I remembered the one Oxi and I had seen weeks ago on the opposite rooftop. It had been too aware of us. It had not moved like the mindless undead on the lower floors. It had moved like a predator, just like this one was watching me, too.

Its head was lifted, and its milky eyes were fixed on the roof. Then, a second shape moved behind it.

My heart thundered hard against my ribs as another snow leopard stepped into view from behind a white van. It was larger than the first. Part of its shoulder had been torn open, exposing dark muscle beneath its patchy fur.

Two. There were two of them. Snow leopards were solitary animals. They didn’t travel or hunt in pairs.

“What the hell…?” I whispered.