Twelve
Jack
The fucker came out of nowhere.
One second, I scanned the intersection for threats or maybe something useful.
The next, it was on me.
The impact surprised me so much that I loosened my grip on the wrench.
I barely heard it clang to the ground, instead focusing on what attacked me.
A man.
Or he was.
Now he was a corpse.
A dead body, still walking around.
And trying to take a bite out of me.
A goddamn zombie.
The impossibility of that should have hit harder than it did.
But I was a little distracted by fighting the thing off.
It moved slowly, but still managed to snare me in its grasp, teeth clicking as it tried to bite.
I pivoted and drove my shoulder into its stomach.
It stank, sour with the first hints of decay wafting off it. We slammed into a police cruiser that had met its final resting place on the sidewalk.
I jammed my forearm under its jaw. It struggled, teeth snapping as it tried to claw at me.
It still looked surprisingly human.
Except for those eyes and the inhuman, terrifying moan that came from its throat.
Looking into those eyes, hearing that sound, only confirmed what I already knew.
The world as it existed before was gone.
It was up to me to survive whatever came next.
I braced my boots, let the thing push — let it think it was winning. Then I drove my knee up into its gut.
Felt the squish.
Heard something wet tear.
I took the opening and swept it off its feet. It crashed against the sidewalk so hard that it should have been stunned.
But it kept moving, uncoordinated, awkward…and unrelenting.
I stepped forward and stomped.
My boot crashed into its skull, once, twice, until the bones gave. The head collapsed like a wet paper cup, spilling whatever was left of its brain across the asphalt.
Silence after was almost louder than the fight.
My breath came harsh, steam clouding in the morning chill. My hands trembled and not from fear. It was leftover adrenaline with nowhere left to go.
“Jack?”
Her voice cut through it.
Soft.
Uncertain.
Entirely wrong for whatever this world was now .
I turned to face her.
She stood ten feet away, her body partially blocked by the police car. Her eyes were wide, fixed on me and the ruin at my feet.
“You okay?” she asked.
I barked an ugly, harsh laugh. “Peachy.”
She flinched.
Part of me liked that.
Other parts hated it.
I swiped my boot on the sidewalk. It didn’t do shit. The drying blood and smell clung anyway.
Rot always did.
Asia stepped closer to me.
Too close.
Her hands were in front of her, like she didn’t know if she should reach for me or keep them where I could see them.
Smart instinct.
“Jack…” Her voice cracked. She sounded like she might apologize.
For what?
For being alive?
For needing me to keep her that way?
I shook my head, slicing the air with a rough gesture. “Don’t. ”
Her mouth snapped shut. Hurt flickered in her eyes. She tried to mask it by looking at the corpse.
Bad idea.
Her eyes went glassy, throat bobbing like she might gag.
I almost told her to look at me instead.
Almost but didn’t.
She needed to keep her eyes open, to take in the horror.
One day, that might save her.
For now, we needed to move. “Stay close. Eyes up. Next one might not be alone.”
She nodded. Her chin jerked. Then she did something that made my chest lock up.
She stepped right up to me, then, after a moment’s hesitation, settled her hand flat against my chest. Light, barely there, like she needed proof I was still here.
What the hell was she doing?
I should have shoved her off.
Should have snarled something about space, about focus, about how I didn’t need a liability trying to soothe me.
Instead I stood there, her palm a fragile heat through layers of blood and sweat-soaked fabric. My heart thundered under her hand, violent and alive.
Then I stepped back.
Shoved past her with a terse, “Let’s go,” thrown over my shoulder.
She followed.
I expected her to.
Where else would she go?
But knowing that didn’t change the warmth that wormed under my ribs.
Didn’t make me hate it any less.
We moved through another two blocks in silence, scanning rooftops and doorways on alert for the next threat.
A three-legged cat limped out of an alley, so thin, it had to have been starving before this all started.
I wondered if we’d end up like that.
Hollowed out.
Barely surviving.
No.
Not we.
Me.
Asia wouldn’t last that long.
The thought was ugly.
True .
And a knife to the fucking heart.
At the next intersection, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I reacted in an instant, ready to attack.
Asia squeaked. My hand wrapped around her upper arm before I even registered her shape.
“Jesus, Counselor,” I hissed, pushing her behind me, blocking anything that might come. “You can’t just sneak up on me like that.”
“I wasn’t—” She cut off. Swallowed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Be careful.”
My grip on her arm tightened. I didn’t mean to hold her so tightly.
Didn’t let go, either.
We kept going. One block after another. My mind ticked through everything that could go wrong.
More people.
A mob of zombies.
Asia freezing up, slowing me down.
At that thought, I reached out, exhaling when I made contact with her skin.
This fucking woman was going to be the death of me .
I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice she’d stopped. I glanced back at her, ready to be pissed, when I saw the expression on her face.
There was fear, trepidation.
And maybe relief.
“The judge’s house is just up there on the right,” she said.