Epilogue
Kieran - One Month Later
M y heart’s racing, panic’s clawing at my chest, trying to invade all of me as I run through the woods beyond the wall.
My lungs are fucking burning, my legs trembling so hard they might fall off at any second.
Breath whooshes out of me, adrenaline spiking, the thrill coursing through me like some wired animal.
I’m running for my damn life.
“It’ll be fun,” he said. “The hunt. The chase…” I can still hear him, still see that crooked grin on his face, that stupid excitement for the idea he cooked up before we took off. It made my chest ache in this stupid, dangerous way.
It’s been two hours of baiting, goading, then chasing and running.
Every time I think I’m home free and let myself take a second to breathe , to calm the racing in my ribs, it’s there—a rustle in the leaves, a shadow sliding between trunks, coming from somewhere I didn’t expect—and I trip over my own feet trying to get the fuck away.
Get to the damn wall. To the Pit. That’s the finish line. Get to the Pit and I’m safe.
I almost faceplant when I dash off the main western road—the one that leads back to the cliff house—and into the thicker trees, stumbling, running so fast all I can hear is the pounding in my ears, until the insistent growl behind me is fading, finally .
After a couple of minutes of blessed silence, I burst into a clearing with a little creek and drop to my knees next to the welcome water. “I can’t—” I wheeze. “I fucking can’t . I need a minute.”
“You’re a bit dramatic,” that rough, raspy voice I love so much answers from behind me, and I snap my gaze up just as I cup my hands in the cold stream.
The fucking idiot is barely winded, grinning down at me with a smile so big I’ve never seen on him before.
“This is insane ,” I gasp, chest jagged with air. I drink a quick mouthful, then flop back onto my ass in the grass. He drops beside me, his heat and presence a damn welcome distraction from whatever’s chasing us.
“This is fun ,” he replies, pushing his black hair back, the gator tattoo rippling on his arm. And for that short second when our eyes lock, I see everything: excitement, adrenaline, heat .
He’s loving this, gets off on this. Of course he does.
I’m slowly pulling myself together, trying to drag a clean breath into my lungs, but I can’t stop smiling at the most beautiful, strong man in existence and at his stupid giddiness.
“It would be more fun if it was just the two of us,” I blurt, and the way he cocks his head, the way those eyes zero in on me like a dare, has me blushing.
“Really? You’d like that, pretty? You and I chasing each other in the woods?”
I bite my lip. “You chasing me? I, ah, I think I would.”
“And what do I get if I catch you?”
My heart pounds even harder now; I don’t need to say it. Everything’s written in my eyes.
He leans in, that damn hand finding its home at my throat, and before I know it, his sinful lips descend on mine. Licking, tasting, claiming. For one delicious minute, I forget whatever is stalking us. For the next, I moan into his mouth like it’s home.
Then, a snap .
A twig cracks close by and we jerk apart, heads whipping toward the sound.
“Run, Kee!” Max yells, already hopping up and hauling me up by my backpack. “The wall’s close, only a couple of minutes further!”
I scramble to follow, adrenaline flipping into a pure, stupid motion as I get up, before my legs are pumping again, breath tearing. Get to the wall. Get out of his reach. Get somewhere solid.
It’s not the Walkers chasing us. No, they can be fast and vicious, but I’m not afraid of them. Not anymore.
I’m Immune.
We had it tested at the medical center a couple of weeks ago. And sure enough, I’ve got the same marker as Max. The same blood thing or genetic whatever that makes you untouchable for the virus.
The stupid zombies can’t infect me. The rain can’t infect me. Everything my mother babbled makes so much more sense now: Stay safe, Kieran. Get to a place far away from here.
Part of me is angry she didn’t tell me. It’d have made running south, getting to Ibitha, a hell of a lot easier.
But the other part understands. She wanted me hidden.
In our world, Immunes were getting locked up, used for experiments, never to be seen again.
She did what she thought would keep me alive. She did it for me.
Still… immune to becoming a Walker doesn’t mean you’re immune to jaws and teeth and power.
Especially not when those jaws belong to Chompy, Max’s goddamned zombiegator.
And that damn alligator is way fucking quicker than he looks.
I make the stupid mistake of looking back.
He’s right fucking there—massive as a god, scales glistening with rot and slime, eyes milky and eager, that maw a cathedral of broken teeth and torn flesh. The thing moves like a fucking nightmare: slow until it isn’t, then a lunging, snapping blur.
My chest caves, and the air turns thick. Terror claws up my throat and my stomach drops like I’ve fallen off a cliff.
I push and push, my brand-new Watcher boots slamming into debris and cracking twigs as we tear through the bush.
I’m not a Watcher, never wanted to be one, but when Max threatened to burn my flip-flops if I didn’t pack real shoes on the hike to his place, Roe conjured up a pair for me.
They’re stiff and weird and make me feel like I’m walking on someone else’s feet.
I like the flip-flops better—the sand between my toes, the world under my soles—but sure, if wearing these keeps Max from having a heart attack, I’ll wear them when we’re outside the wall.
The one I now see peeking through the bush on my left.
“Come on!” Max yells, a little ahead of me now. “There—there’s the Pit.”
Sure enough, the big stone bowl next to the cliffs looms up over the trees, its tiers rimmed with eager faces, looking through the holes and cracks at how we approach in a mad run.
We dash out of the treeline to the flat rocky terrain, over the path to the back gate which is used for Walkers.
It’s a black, waiting mouth, a rope ladder dangling from the floor above, where Sami and three other Watchers are waiting.
“He’s gaining on us!” I shout, and that ass—Max’s ass, glorious and infuriating—slows for a heartbeat. He turns his head, dark eyes wild, and for a second I almost run straight into him.
His eyes go wide as he looks past my shoulder, then he turns completely, shoves me forward to the Pit with brutal, quick strength. “ Go , Kee. I’ll distract him.”
“Max, no !” I snap, because my stupid idea to come along for this was mine.
I couldn’t let him do this alone. We’re armed to the teeth—Whisper, the cleaver, daggers—but guns and bullets are one thing; Chompy’s jaws are another.
If we miss, if he misses… those jaws will close around him in a heartbeat, and a bullet won’t pry teeth from bone.
“I got this.” He pushes me again, and I know better than to argue. I know he’s quicker than me, stronger, a warrior at heart.
Not to mention, it’s his fucking horror-pet. The thing’s a damn zombie, but Max’s convinced he’s less inclined to eat him than me.
Sure, buddy.
Deciding to trust my partner, my heart, I don’t waste another second and launch for the ladder. The cheers from the crowds rattle through the stone; it’s deafening, fucking insane. I don’t dare look back, not at the sound of snapping jaws, not at the sound of a swishing blade, not at the sound of—
Is he fucking laughing?
“Come on, Chomps!” I hear above the hollers, closer than I thought. “Just a little further, buddy!”
My hand finds the wood rungs, and I scramble up, breath burning. Before relief can even settle in, Sami and another Watcher clamp hands on my shoulders and haul. I’m up, pulled over the lip, and for a second all I can do is lie on my back, stare at the stone ceiling above me and gasp for air.
Max! I need to know Max is okay!
I twist in a hurry, heart thudding stupidly hard, and see him.
And he’s absolutely fucking insane.
He launches himself like a mad thing. Hands on the ledge directly above the gate, swinging his legs up with the core strength of a man who’s forgotten fear, of a man whose religion is exercising. Half-naked. Which is a show on it’s own.
Chompy bursts into the Pit in a spray of snapping and teeth, too late to stop.
“Now!” Sami roars, and the lever snaps. The gate rattles down with a brutal, grinding finality.
He’s locked up. Exactly where we wanted him to be.
Stupid fucking plan.
My breaths hitch; my heart claws at my ribs, but I take a couple of deep gulps of air to calm myself before I shuffle forward until I’m directly above him.
All I can do is stare down at Max, clinging to the stone above the gate like a damn spider.
“Hi there, pretty,” he calls up, grinning huge and filthy. I scoff, because what else do you do?
“We should do this again,” he adds, like it’s a date.
“Without Chompy, I assume?” I press my lips together, keeping the stupid smile in check, then flop flat on my belly with Sami to haul him the rest of the way over.
When he’s up, he lifts me like I weigh nothing, curls me into his arms, and kisses me like the world can wait—slow, claiming, his teeth nipping at my lips between lazy, hungry pulls.
“Next time, it’s just you and me in the woods,” he murmurs against my mouth, the promise hot and low.
“I’m the one chasing, and when I get my prize, I’m going to keep it. ”
“Can’t wait,” I mumble, my face burning for more reasons than the run.
“Hey, lovebirds. Glad you survived this grand idea of yours and all, but hurry—the sentencing’s about to start,” Sami says as he climbs up.
We pull apart, fingers still tangled, and follow him through the stone corridors. People glance up from their seats as we pass. A few that watched our little spectacle and now walk back to their places nod as we move toward the front row where the Pit yawns black and terrible.