Chapter 7
SEVEN
JULIEN
Dawn creeps through the gaps in the curtains, painting streaks across sleeping bodies. I haven’t closed my eyes once, can’t afford to even though my mind begs for sleep.
Outside, the occasional groan or shuffle reminds me why none of us should relax. The dead are waiting, and I’m the only thing standing between them and…
My eyes drift to Dakota’s small form curled on the ground between her sister and Sienna, face finally relaxed in sleep. She didn’t hesitate. Saved the woman who stole her fiancé and didn’t break down until later, alone.
Her glistening, simultaneously calm eyes flash before me. “What are you going to do? Comfort me? Hug me?”
I’m not good at either.
So, what would I have done?
Footsteps approach from behind, too careful to be anything but human. Cameron’s hand lands on my shoulder, squeezing once.
“You should get some sleep,” he whispers, crouching beside me. His face is shadowed with stubble, eyes red but alert. “I can take over.”
“Later.” My voice comes out rougher than expected, throat dry from lack of water and too much silence. “Any news?”
“Same emergency message running on a loop on all channels. Stay inside, wait for help, blah blah. Except one.” He almost cracks a smile.
“Some guy broadcasting from his warehouse, calling it the ‘End Times Radio Hour.’ Rating the effectiveness of different weapons, talking survival tactics. Says the government’s collapsed, military’s trying to establish safe zones but failing.
Major cities are overrun. Some kind of virus. ”
I snort. “At least one is having fun.”
“Maybe, but he also sounds…” Cameron rubs his chin. “Credible. Like he’s actually patched into military comms.”
“We need to figure out what we’re dealing with.”
A voice rises from the corner, thin and wavering. The reverend, clutching his Bible. “We’re all going to die, aren’t we?”
His intrusion catches attention from around the room—most of them weren’t sleeping after all. Rosa sits up, adjusting her shawl. Sienna and Dakota lean forward, muscles tense, ready to move. The Levines shift on their makeshift beds. Only Amelia seems to still sleep.
Everyone waits for my answer. Waiting for reassurance, I’d love but can’t honestly give.
Cameron straightens, addressing the room. “We don’t know what’s happening exactly, but we’ll do whatever it takes to survive.”
“What’s the plan?” Nicklas demands. “Stay here until we’re eaten? What about food? Water? We can’t hide forever.”
Carmen places a restraining hand on his arm, but her eyes hold the same questions. He’s right, but his tone still makes me want to punch him.
Cameron opens his mouth.
“The church has enough supplies for a few days and is secluded,” I say. “We’ve secured the perimeter. For now, we stay put, assess the situation, and plan our next move. Rushing out unprepared will get us killed.”
“And when the supplies run out?” Nicklas asks.
“We find more.” I hold his gaze. “Or we leave for somewhere more defensible.”
“Where? The whole city’s probably overrun.”
Do I trust him or not? “We need to find a place. Maybe north. There’s less population due to the mountains.”
“And who put you in charge?” Nicklas asks. “I’m not risking my family on some—”
After everything HE did to US, he has the fucking audacity to question MY trustworthiness?
“Dad, please,” Dakota says. “They’re trying to—”
“Be quiet,” Carmen snaps. “You’ve done enough damage.”
Dakota flinches, then her eyes drop to her hands, thumb circling her inner wrist.
“Mom?” Amelia stirs, eyelids fluttering open. “What’s happening?”
Immediately, Carmen is at her side, hovering over their elder daughter, adjusting her pillows, and checking her temperature.
“What time is it?” Amelia asks.
“Early, sweetheart.” Carmen strokes her daughter’s hair. “Go back to sleep.”
“Water?” Amelia’s gaze drifts to Dakota, who’s already reaching for a bottle.
The groaning grows louder, more persistent. No longer random sounds in the distance, but a chorus building in intensity.
I stand, machete gripped tight, and motion Cameron to follow me. “Something’s wrong.”
We cross to the opposite side of the church, boots silent on the carpet. The groans grow clearer with each step. I part the dusty curtain—
“Fuck.”
Down the street, shuffling between abandoned cars and overturned trash cans, a herd of them moves toward us. Thirty, maybe forty strong. Some missing limbs, others with faces half-torn away, all moving with single-minded purpose toward the church.
“Where the hell did they come from?” Cameron breathes beside me, face paling.
“The Silverwood Barn.”
I turn to find Dakota standing in the doorway, arms wrapped around herself. She shouldn’t be here. Should be with her sister. Not looking at me with those too-calm eyes.
“There was another wedding scheduled yesterday,” she says. “Big venue, holds about two hundred guests.”
Cameron’s shoulder slumps. “Guess they weren’t as lucky as we were.”
I scan the yard again. The main gate stands open, a car parked in the gateway with the driver’s side door open, its metal frame glinting in the early morning light. A clear invitation.
“We need to close that gate,” I say. “Can’t risk them getting in here.”
Dakota steps closer, peering through the gap in the curtain. “They’re too close already.”
“Which is why we move now.” I turn to Cameron. “Get the keys we need from the reverend.”
He nods, sprinting back toward our makeshift camp. I brush past Dakota, heading for the main entrance.
Her footsteps follow, quick and light. “I’ll help.”
“No.”
“Why? I’ve already killed three of them. I’m not useless.”
I whirl around so fast she nearly crashes into me. Her startled breath hits my chest, eyes widening as she stumbles back.
“Because you’ve already gotten hurt.” The marks on her arms, the fading bruises on her side that weren’t from falling down any fucking stairs, flash before me. “And we don’t need any more casualties.”
Dakota’s mouth opens, ready to argue, when Cameron returns with Sienna at his heels. He clutches the fire poker in one hand, jangling keys in the other.
“Got them,” he pants. “Reverend’s praying for our souls.”
“Great.” I grab the keys, sorting through them as I swing the main door open. The groans are louder, carried on the morning breeze. “Which one’s for the gate?”
“Already removed it.” Cameron holds up a brass key.
“Good.” I nod toward Dakota and Sienna. “You want to help? Stay here with Sienna and open the door for us when we get back. Any of those things get close, you lock this door and don’t think twice. Understood?”
Dakota stares at me, her eyes telling me she won’t, but she gives a single, sharp nod.
“Let’s go.” I open the door, leaving the key inside the lock, Cameron in tow. “Move fast.”
We sprint across the church grounds, our feet pounding a desperate rhythm on the gravel path. The dead notice us immediately, their rotting faces turning in unison like some fucked-up choreography.
“Just the ones in our way,” I call to Cameron, machete already raised. “Don’t waste time.”
A middle-aged woman in a shredded cocktail dress lurches toward me, jaw snapping. I drive the machete through her eye socket before yanking it free in one fluid motion. No time to be gentle. No time to think about who she might have been.
“Ju, on your left!”
I pivot, narrowly avoiding grasping fingers from a teenage boy missing half his face. The blade connects with his temple, and he crumples.
We reach the gate and sedan breathless, sweat already soaking through my shirt despite the morning chill. No sign of the owner. Blood smears the windshield from the inside.
“Fuck,” I mutter, shoving against the gate. It moves an inch before hitting the car. “We need to move this piece of shit.”
Cameron glances at the approaching horde. “Keys?”
I check the ignition. Empty. “Nothing.”
“Parking brake might be off,” Cameron says, already diving into the driver’s seat. “I’ll steer, you push.”
I position myself at the rear bumper, bracing against the metal frame. “Ready?”
“Go!”
I heave my weight against the car, muscles screaming as it inches forward out of the gateway. Movement flickers in my peripheral vision. A man in a torn suit stumbles toward me, faster than the others, mouth gaping in a silent scream.
I don’t have time for this. I let go of the car and reach for my machete just as the thing reaches for me, fingers inches from my face when—
CRACK.
Its head caves in from the side, dark fluid spraying across my cheek. The body crumples, revealing Dakota standing behind it, bloody candlestick gripped in both hands.
“Dakota,” I growl, throwing everything I have into moving the sedan. “I told you to—”
She does the same. “You’re welcome.”
Sienna appears at my other side, shoulder grinding against the sedan. “Less talking, more pushing!”
With the added force, the car rolls forward faster, clearing the gateway. Dakota rushes to one side of the gate and closes it.
Suddenly, the car starts up.
“I did it.” Cameron howls from inside.
“Don’t—” I start, but he’s already revving it, the sound carrying across the grounds. “Fuck! You’ll bring more of them!”
“They’re already coming.” He maneuvers the car forward, then cuts the wheel hard and backs up, positioning it against the gate from the outside before jumping out. “At least now it’s a barricade.”
He slams the gate closed, fumbling with the chain and padlock as the first wave arrives. The lock clicks just as decayed hands slam against the metal car. Behind us, the other zombies close in.
Close.
But we can still make it to the entrance without fighting.
“Inside!” I snatch Dakota’s arm and haul her after me. “Now!”
We run and stumble through the church doors, chests heaving. Cameron slams it shut behind us and locks it in place. Seconds later, nails scratch against the wood.
“That was too fucking close.” I wipe zombie gunk from my face with my sleeve.
My pulse hammers in my ears. Haven’t felt an adrenaline surge like this since my last combat mission.
Dakota steps away from me, her face flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“You were supposed to stay inside.” Unease ripples through me when I think about how close that thing came to her. “Both of you.”
Sienna crosses her arms. “And let you two become zombie chow? Not a chance.”
Cameron wraps her in a hug. “That was incredibly stupid and incredibly brave.”
“Learned from the best,” she whispers, eyes locked on his.
My gaze lands on Dakota, who stands apart from all of us, staring at the blood on her hands.
“You okay?” I ask.
Her eyes flick to mine. “Fine.”
That fucking word again. I swear if I hear it one more time… I take a deep breath.
“Thanks,” I say.
She blinks, surprise flickering across her face. Have I been that much of an asshole that she can’t believe I’ll thank her?
“What now?” Sienna asks.
“We wait,” I say. “Barricade the rest of the windows so we’re safe, and hope those things get bored and move on. Then we move.”
“We need cars,” Cameron says. “We should be able to find some in the parking lot that we could use.” He huffs out a laugh. “My sports car is out of question. Unless we strap people to the roof…”
Sienna laughs, “Always wanted to try that out.”
Dakota joins in with a sweet, short laugh I haven’t heard in forever. Her whole face brightens with a smile, cut short the second she notices me staring.
What did I do now?
I clear my throat and scan the parking lot through the window. “We need at least two vehicles.”
The dead inside the gate won’t be a big problem compared to the ones pressing against the gate and the sedan, their collective weight making the metal creak.
It’ll hold for now, but for how long?
“I saw a pickup truck,” Cameron says. “Might have keys in the ignition or…”
On one of the bodies.
I nod. “We’ll check every pocket.”