Page 96 of My Undead Love Life

Bay access.

Side entrance.

Windows.

Interior barricades.

Roof hatch.

I’d always been the one in charge of securing the station. Even before the outbreak, I was the one who double-checked doors, exits, route maps, hydrant access, and evacuation plans. After Ryan died, it had become less of a habit and more of an obsession.

I made sure to check for any new entry points I didn’t know about, but everything was locked up as tight as it had been when I’d left. Which meant the infection had happened from the inside.

The loft was the only spot in the station that hadn’t had an undead in it, so we settled up there to eat and do full-body checks. The space hadn’t changed. There was a single bed shoved against one wall and a shelf of old manuals. A faded blanket was draped over the back of a chair.

We ate in near silence on the floor with that faded blanket under us. We each ate a can of beans and a protein bar, and drank cold water that tasted faintly of plastic.

I’d been fighting to survive in this fucked-up apocalypse from the start, but killing undead I knew in life was much worse than I expected. Especially when I’d been right about how fucked up their priorities were. Leaving them had saved me.

After eating, we did our full-body checks. Everyone was cleared, and then we had gone to bed. Only I couldn’t sleep.

“Mad,” Spencer whispered, swinging her legs over the single bed to sit on the side. “Come here.”

I looked up from where I sat leaned against the bed with a frown. “I’m okay,” I said automatically, getting up and sitting next to her.

Luck and Oxi were already asleep on the floor next to where I had been sitting, wrapped in blankets. I didn’t know when they’d gone to bed. Oxi had one arm over his eyes, but I wasn’t sure he was fully out. Luck was curled on his side, shovel within reach, breathing slow and even.

“You don’t have to be okay,” Spencer said gently.

I let out a breath. “Yeah. I kinda do.”

She reached over, lacing her fingers through mine. It made my heart slam hard in my chest. Her hand was smaller than mine, warm from being tucked under the blankets. Her thumb brushed over my knuckles.

I looked down at our joined hands.

“You lost people,” she whispered. “That’s not something you can block out.”

“I can block out a lot.”

“I know, but it’s not a way to actually move on.” Her voice softened. “That pain won’t go away unless you feel it.”

I didn’t pull away. “Maybe not.”

“Who were they, exactly? Part of your crew from before this?”

I squeezed her hand tighter. “Some of them were,” I sighed. “When the outbreak started, I was one of the first to act at the station. I took charge, even over my chief. Not officially. I didn’t outrank him. But I knew the city better than anyone, and I knew panic would kill us faster than the undead if we let it.”

Spencer stayed quiet, but she kept rubbing my knuckles.

“We fortified the firehouse and gathered survivors. I used my knowledge of the city’s layout to guide people here. I marked safe routes, blocked danger zones, made supply maps, and set watch shifts. I turned this place into something that could hold.” I looked toward the stairs. “We lasted a year before things got out of hand.”

“Out of hand?”

“They fought over stupid shit, and they refused to follow rules we put in place for safety.”

“The body checks?” she asked, brows furrowing.

“No.” I shook my head. “But those would’ve been another good implementation. They wouldn’t take shifts seriously. They let just anyone in without vetting them. People slacked off. They took supplies without logging them, left doors unlocked, wandered off alone, and ignored the routes I mapped because they thought they knew better.” My voice roughened with each word. “It was chaos, and they refused to coordinate with each other to make living easier. They made the same careless fucking mistakes that cost others their lives. They wandered into danger zones without a care, took uncharted paths, and ignored safe routes I’d found myself. They didn’t care that I was trying to keep them safe.”