Chapter 7
SEVEN
Jack
The threat in front of me was manageable.
The one behind me, though.
“Asia! What the fuck are you doing?”
She deigned to spare a moment to look in my direction. It took me a second to realize she was looking at Miles. “Miles, you know what to do.”
The kid nodded, and then ran.
The knife in his hand was large, much too big for him, but he held it like he had been born to it.
“They got the smokehouse, Ms. Newman!” he yelled as his strides cut through the grass.
“Fuck,” she muttered.
But she didn’t miss a step. Instead she ran faster towards one of the zombies. She swung and took one down while Miles ran to the opposite side of the farm to attack those there.
“Jack, go clear out the smokehouse,” she said.
I was torn, but ran to the smokehouse, dispatching three zombies along the way.
When I reached the smokehouse, I peeked into the door, disgusted by what I saw inside.
Three gluttonous zombies pulling at the animal carcasses that had been hung to dry.
Of all the things I’d seen, this was the most sickening.
The meat that looked to be enough to keep the farm fed for a while was irretrievably tainted.
I stabbed the first zombie, plunging my knife into its neck while its fingers were still buried in the carcass.
As it fell, it pulled strips of meat off, leaving the ribs exposed.
I took care of the two others, and then went back out.
Asia stood in the grass with Miles.
I marched over to her, reaching for her, but froze for a split second. Then I wiped my hand on my pants and put two fingers on her neck. I curved my fingers, ready to hold her in place if she pulled away. She didn’t. She just held my gaze for a long moment. Then she looked away.
“You okay?” I said.
“Fine,” she responded, but she didn’t pull her gaze from Miles. “You got them all?”
He nodded. “Yeah, there were two over there, plus your three out here. How many in the smokehouse, Jack?”
“Three. Meat’s gone.”
The kid looked at me like I kicked every puppy on planet Earth. Asia’s shoulders deflated.
“Darn it,” she said.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Darn it?”
“Trying to be respectful of the kid, Jack.”
“Guys, I’m almost sixteen,” Miles said, sounding more like he was eleven.
“Yeah and you know what to do next. Now’s your chance for cleanup duty,” she said.
Despite everything, Miles beamed. “On it!” he exclaimed. Then he scurried off.
I watched him for a moment, then focused on her. “You all right?”
“I already told you yes,” she said, though she still didn’t look at me.
I moved my hand from her neck and grabbed her chin. I locked my gaze with hers.
“Asia, are you all right?”
“I told you I was fine. We just lost a month’s worth of food. Sorry for taking a minute to think about how we’re going to replace it.” Then she pulled her chin away and turned and walked off.
I looked at the corpses on the lawn, the black blood spilling from them, tainting the rest of this place as the ones in the smokehouse had spoiled the meat.
I grabbed the wheelbarrow and loaded corpses.
I let her avoid me the rest of the day, though I was seething.
Mostly because she put all this on herself, carrying it like it was her fault.
I saw it in the tension in her shoulders.
The way she rubbed her temple when she didn’t think anyone was watching.
For a smart woman, she could be dumb sometimes.
Hadn’t she figured out that I was always watching?
Except when you were gone.
That accusation whispered at the back of my brain, but I paid it no mind. She got it. She understood. I told myself that, and got back to work with Asia in my periphery and at the center of my thoughts.
I took the first night shift, and well after dark, when the farm was quiet, I finally retreated into the house. I took a quick, lukewarm shower that was more refreshing than it had any right to be. I saw the faint glow coming from the kitchen, the same one that had been there when I came in.
I walked in and saw Asia absently rubbing her temple again, staring down at a notebook.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said.
She didn’t look at me, keeping her gaze on the notebook. She wasn’t even startled by my voice, but I got it. I might always watch her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t always watching me, too, though she would chew glass before admitting it.
She said nothing but her shoulders were stiff, almost pressing against her ears like she was trying to protect herself from me.
I crossed the room in two long strides, grabbed her out of the chair, and pulled her into my lap as I sat down.
She was still stiff, but she didn’t fight to get away. I stared up at her profile. Her jaw was tense and rigid. “We’ll figure it out.”
She still didn’t look at me. “I always do.”
I flinched, but then reached up, stroking her cheek. Her shoulders were still rigid, but her jaw softened ever so slightly. Not enough, but enough for now.
I shifted her in my lap and settled her over my bulge, which grew with every passing second.
She was wearing those sexy little shorts that always drove me wild, and tonight was no different.
She rocked her hips involuntarily, and her lips dropped open, releasing a soft sigh.
She stared for a second, then looked away, but she kept moving, squirming in my lap, her soft, warm hands curled against my bare chest, not holding me, but not pushing me away.
Her pussy was so wet, I felt it through her shorts and my underwear. I rocked my own hips, but then fought to stay still.
Let her squirm and writhe on my lap until we were both panting, breathless. She leaned forward slowly, and now her weight fully rested on my chest, her face pressed against mine, our shoulders touching.
She rocked on top of me, then pressed her cheek against mine, for a moment soft, still, at peace.
She seemed to catch herself and then rocked frantically, rubbing herself against me until she stiffened and came on a silent cry.
I stayed still, one hand on her hip, forcing her to look at me. “We’ll figure it out.”
She held my gaze for a moment, then she slid off my lap and left.