Chapter 30
Thirty
A iden, Noah, Wes, and I did everything to prepare for the journey outside of the warehouse. We each have a gun, some extra ammo, and a large backpack ready to fill with supplies. Our goal is to find enough food to last the rest of our stay and for a few days of traveling. So far, things have been quiet outside, so we're hopeful that this is a simple supply run.
Birds merrily sing under the winter sun as we move down the street leading toward the other warehouses. After months in a community, it's a little unsettling that we're the only sign of human life. For so long, we've been safely locked away, and now my nerves are heightened by the open space. But above that, we're once again targets for Zs.
The doors to the first warehouse were left open. We enter and scan the area with our flashlights. It’s the distribution plant for an auto parts store, so we leave empty-handed and move on to the next location. The second building is smaller compared to the others, but the property seems just as vast. It's a single-story warehouse with a couple of big-rig trucks parked in front.
Aiden pulls on the front door. “It's locked. Do you want to skip it?”
I move along the sidewalk leading around to the other side of the building. “No, let's look in the back.”
The boys grumble their disapproval, but I brush them off. I have a gut feeling that I can’t ignore. This structure is so discreet that there must be something to it.
As we round the far back corner, I stop mid-stride. “Oh, my God!”
“What? What is it?” Wes hurries past me in a panic.
I clap my hands together saying, “It's a fueling facility. Maybe we won't have to walk the rest of the way.”
Ever since we left the Sanctuary, we've scrambled to figure out how to make it through the southern region and get to the island. We came to terms with being locked up in the warehouse for the next few weeks due to Ryland's condition, but if we can fill the truck’s dual gas tanks, we might be able to drive the whole way there. If that's the case, we can leave tomorrow morning.
“Let's hope it's not all siphoned,” Noah says.
“There's only one way to find out,” I reply over my shoulder, walking toward the medal lids embedded in the roadway.
They cover the underground storage units where the gas is kept. I take the knife attached to my thigh and lodge the blade into the groove between the cover and asphalt, trying to pry it open. The lid lifts, but not enough for me to wedge my fingers in and open it all the way. I move to my stomach to peer down the tiny hole in the top, looking to see if any fuel is left in the underground storage unit.
“Oh, shit!” Aiden shouts.
I jerk my head up as he bolts from behind a tanker truck. He runs in our direction and says, “Good news, that truck is full of gas. Bad news, there's a horde of Zs crossing the marsh on the other side of the highway.”
“How many?” Wes asks.
“Six. Eight. Ten. I don't know, Mac. I didn't count them.”
I fight back a grin. It’s been a minute since I heard any of the guys refer to Wes by the shortened version of his last name. It feels like things are getting back to the way they used to be.
I exchange my knife for the gun tucked into the back of my pants and stand straight.
“I've got a question for you, Quinn,” Wes says, leaning into my side while I take aim in the direction Aiden came from. “I know you're an intelligent woman, but do you think this is a good idea?”
“What do you mean? It's a great idea!” I set my feet shoulder-length apart.
Noah comes up on my other side. “I think Wes is asking if you really want to fire a gun at a gas station.”
“If you thought it upset Ryland when we left, I'm sure he's going to be pissed when he finds out you blew us up,” Wes says with a smirk.
Fuck! I've lost all common sense being locked up in that stupid mountain for so long. Caution used to be my mantra, and now, I'm all over the place.
“We need to lure them away from here before we can open fire,” Aiden says through ragged breaths. “Quinn, stay with Wes.”
“Are you ready to put those running skills to the test, sweetheart?” Wes asks with a wink.
“Sure am,” I say, breaking into a full sprint.
The boys don't hesitate to follow me away from the gas station. I look both ways when we come to the main street. A small group of the Afflicted have branched off from the horde, heading toward our warehouse where River and Ryland are barricaded inside. Not wanting the assholes anywhere near the building, I fire a warning shot down the road, clipping a Z in the arm. It works. The stragglers turn toward us, rejoining the group charging in our direction.
“Go, go, go,” Wes yells, gripping the back of my shirt to pull me along.
The Zs pass the gas station, heading right for us. We form a line that stretches across the road—a small barricade made of our bodies. Holding our ground, we wait for them to come closer, to make our targets easier to hit.
Their unseeing eyes seem to track our every move. They snap at us with sharp, yellow teeth, and long jagged nails resembling claws reach for where we stand. The shrill sound they make when a bullet hits them sends a shiver down my spine. It’s hard to believe that they used to be humans.
And Ryland could have been one of them.
Someone once loved these beings the way I love him. They had families and lovers and friends, and now, they're destined to be the host for the virus which took that away from them. Ryland said he felt trapped inside his body when the hunger hit, like he was still there but couldn’t control the need to consume. I hate to think they feel the same way after all this time.
Gunfire explodes around me as the boys open fire. I step forward and release my first bullet. It lands in the forehead of an oncoming Z. That first kill triggers something inside of me. It’s like my survival instincts spark to life.
“Quinn!”
I turn to respond, but I'm thrown forward. I struggle to get a hand underneath me, but I’m too slow. The force of the impact slams my head against the asphalt. Through my blurred vision, I jab my arm back as hard as I can, connecting with the side of a Z's head. It stumbles back while keeping its grip on me. I twist in hold and flip onto my back. With its teeth bared, it dashes toward my face. My gun comes up between us, the barrel connecting with the center of its head. Without a second thought, I pull the trigger. The Afflicted slumps onto me. I push its dead body away, my hands slipping through the oily, purple blood saturating my clothes and hair. Nothing is as disgusting as being covered in the stench of waste and decay.
“So fucking gross,” I mumble, getting to my feet.
The road is covered in puddles of blood and decaying bodies. Every single Z is dead.
With total disregard for my filthy state, Wes places an arm around my shoulders. “I'm sorry for what I said the other day. You still kick ass.”
I smile and shake my head.
“Are you up to checking out one more warehouse?” Noah asks, pointing to the building across the street.
The sight of the building reactivates my good mood. Like a gold mine shimmering under the sun is the distribution center for a major grocery store.
I do my best to sneak into the warehouse while carrying two jugs of water. Every step I take makes me cringe as my goo-covered shoes slap against the concrete floors. Keeping my eyes straight ahead, I rush down the main aisle toward the bathroom, hoping not to be spotted.
Ryland steps out from our alcove, stopping me in my tracks. He raises his brow and with trembling hands stuffs his gun into the waistband of his jeans.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He crosses his arms and sets his mouth in a firm line. “What took you so long? We heard gunshots over an hour ago. Where's everyone else?”
“They're fueling the truck and then circling back to grab the food we found. We will be good for a while.”
“You shouldn’t have stayed out there so long,” he snaps.
“I didn’t know there was a time limit on a supply run. We came back as soon as we were done.”
He pulls at the roots of his hair and looks up at the ceiling. He’s stressed. I get it. I didn’t like when he had assignments outside of the Sanctuary. It was painful waiting for him to come back.
“Look, I need to get cleaned up,” I say, holding up one of the water containers. “I could use some help.”
River appears and props herself against the edge of the shelves. A knowing grin spreads across her face as she watches us.
“Christ,” Ryland mumbles, taking a jug.
I fall in line behind him, and as I pass River, she holds out a packet of hygiene products, a towel, and a washcloth. “That was slick,” she says in a hushed voice. “Distract him with the promise of seeing you naked.”
I take the items and pick up one of the battery-operated lanterns we've placed throughout the warehouse. “A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.”
Ryland clears his throat, holding the employees’ bathroom door open for me. I walk in and place the light on the floor while he leans against the sink with his hands in his pockets, watching me strip out of my soiled clothes. His gaze skims every inch of my body like he's making sure I've returned to him in the same condition I left. Unfortunately, I’m a little scratched and dinged now.
When only my bra and underwear remain, I stand over the floor drain just outside the useless toilet stalls. I reach for a jug of water at my feet to pour it over my head. It's heavy and the angle is awkward, splashing more water on my feet than my hair.
Ryland sighs and takes it from me. “I thought you asked me in here to help. You're so stubborn.”
I bend over with my hands on my knees. He tips the jug, saturating my hair. The cold water has my teeth chattering as I say, “I'm sorry you were worried about us.”
He takes the travel-sized bottle of shampoo out of the toiletry bag, squirts it into his palm, and works it into my hair. “You're not sorry. You would've gone with or without my approval,” he says before tugging on my hair. “Head up.”
I can't argue with him, I would have gone either way, but not because I don't take his feelings into consideration. There's safety in numbers, and the others needed me on the supply run. We must put ourselves in danger if we want to obtain our ultimate goal—leaving this continent together.
Ryland circles his long fingers around the front of my scalp, loosening up the gunk stuck to it. A little squeak leaves me as he touches the tender spot where I hit my head.
“That's a massive bump. How did it happen?” he asks.
I explain everything—the Z attack, the fueling station, and the grocery distribution warehouse, which smelled of rotted food and death. I finish by telling him that we now have everything we need to make it to the island.
“So, we're leaving tomorrow morning?” he asks, rinsing my hair.
“Unless you want more time to recuperate. We can stay longer if you need.”
Biting his lower lip, he sets aside the jug. “No, I'm eager to get there and see if we can find a way home.”
“You think there is really a chance?” I ask.
“Yeah, I do.”
I hum and consider the possibility for a moment. “I suppose it will be nice not to worry about me all the time, huh?”
He slicks the wet strands of my hair away from my face and runs them down my back until he reaches the clasp of my bra. “Whether it's here or in Giran, I'll always worry about you. When you have something so perfect”—he releases the hooks— “and precious”—he pulls the straps down my arms—” you can't help but worry you'll lose it.”
“Unless you keep it close and safe,” I whisper, letting the garment fall to the floor.
“Exactly, and that's what I plan to do.” His eyes flash to the lower half of my body. “Do you want to keep those on?”
I shake my head and remove my plain cotton underwear.
He picks up the second jug and whispers, “You're fucking killing me, Quinn.”
I understand exactly how he feels. The warmth that starts in the center of my stomach travels downward until it’s a dull throb between my legs. It’s hard to be this close to him and not want to take things further.
As he drizzles the water over me, I clean the grime from my skin with a washcloth and soap. He's doing his best to be a gentleman, focusing on me from the neck up. But I catch his gaze wandering when he thinks I'm not paying attention. I like that he can't help but look.
“Turn around,” he says, holding out his hand for the washcloth.
I turn and lift my hair to the top of my head, giving him access to my back. He works the suds into my skin, and my entire body reacts just like the little bubbles bursting against me—sizzling and popping. When I think he's done, his lips press to the top of my spine. I struggle not to lean into him and soak his clothes.
“Do you know how beautiful you look right now?” He nips at the back of my neck.
My breath hitches and I'm unable to answer.
He presses his body to mine from behind. His hands slide around my rib cage as he grinds his hard cock into my lower back, showing me exactly how his body responds to mine. I release my hair and let him hold me while his fingers move over my breasts. He massages the suds into my skin before pinching and pulling each of my nipples.
“Is this what you wanted when you invited me in here with you?” he asks, kissing the column of my neck.
“Yes and no,” I say, moaning when he bites the top of my shoulder.
“Do you want more?”
“Yes.”
I turn to face him and run my hands inside his wet shirt, lifting it as I go. He reaches behind his head, pulls it off, and closes the space between us. My sensitive nipples slip and slide over his chest while his mouth frantically moves with mine. He pulls my bottom lip between his teeth, biting down until it stings. Soothing the hurt with his tongue, he moves me backward. My spine hits the wall, sandwiching me between it and him.
His hand slides between us, and I anticipate the feel of his fingers. Instead, I'm met with the hasty movements of him unbuttoning his pants. Every accidental bump against my pussy makes me ache for him more.
With labored breaths, he grips the back of my thigh and guides me to wrap my leg around his hips. He moves to do the same with the other leg, and I place my hand over his.
“Are you sure you're up for this?” I ask.
With a deep chuckle, he says, “I'm fucking up for this.”
I can’t deny him, not when we came so close to losing each other. For twenty-four hours, I thought he was lost to the virus. My world split apart during that time. Now that we have a second chance, I don’t want to take for granted any moment where I can feel connected with him. Not a single one.
He lifts my other leg, and I lock my ankles behind his back. As if he wants to savor the feeling of sinking inside of me, he presses his cock into me inch by inch.
I'm overwhelmed by the sensation of being wrapped around him in every way. His fingers dig into the back of my thighs, and every long stroke into me draws a whimper from my lips. I can’t help it. The way he fits tight and deep feels so fucking good.
I press my mouth against his neck, muffling my moans and tasting his salty skin. As I look over his shoulder, movement catches my attention across the room. In the dingey mirror hanging over the sink, I watch one of the sexiest images I've ever seen. Ryland's pants hang low on his hips, exposing the top swell of his ass. It flexes with each thrust of his hips, and the tightly-wound muscles on his back form defined hills and valleys I sink my fingertips into.
I could spend hours watching us fuck.
He looks over his shoulder, following my line of sight. “Do you like what you see, love?” he grunts against my ear.
My entire body reacts to the raspy tone of his voice. I clench my legs around him tighter as my pussy grinds against him.
“Answer me, Quinn. Do you like it?”
I put my lips on his shoulder, focusing on our reflection as the pressure builds inside me. “Yes, I like it.”
“Good girl,” he says, quickening his strokes, hitting deep inside of me.
I no longer fixate on the image in the mirror but the sensation coursing through my body. I grip his hair and sync my hips with his. His damp skin slaps against mine while his grunts echo around us. Each of my muscles flex and tingle as I draw closer to my release.
“Come for me, Quinn. I need to feel your pretty pussy clenching my cock.”
“Fuck,” I breath, his filthy words my undoing.
My body draws him in, pulling and pulling until the pressure low in my stomach snaps.
“That’s it, love. Fucking take it all,” he says, slamming into me and filling me with his cum.
We’re lost to the cosmic pull that connects us—a world where everything fades to a hazy gray, and we're in vivid color. It’s just me and Ryland in its center and that’s all I’ll ever need. Him. All I need is him.
He presses his lips along my shoulder and neck while catching his breath. “I love you so fucking much,” he says.
I lift his face and gently kiss his lips. “I love you, Ry.”
He lowers me to the ground on shaky legs. I hold onto the wall as he takes a second to clean himself and situate his pants. When he turns back to me, it’s with a smug smile. The asshole knows he has me wrapped around his finger. And there is no other place I’d rather be.
The next morning, I wake feeling deliciously achy. I stretch my arms and legs and turn onto my side. Ryland sleeps next to me with his eyelids fluttering and lips pouting. His hormones may have been down for fucking in the bathroom last night, but his body had paid the price. As soon as he undressed and hit the mattress, he was out.
After a soft kiss to his cheek, I roll out of bed. We will finish the trip to the island off the south coast today. The shuffling of boxes along with footsteps tell me the others are already packing the truck.
I walk outside to find the sun peeking over the horizon and birds chirping in the nearby marsh. Everyone has gathered around the back of the truck, listening to River explain the modifications she made so the ride is comfortable for Ryland. I glance inside where about thirty pillows are strategically placed around the boxes of supplies. “Looks comfy,” I say. “What else do you all need help with?”
“Nothing. We're set to go whenever Ry is ready,” Noah says.
River gives her boyfriend a sideways glance. “I'm sure it will be a while. He must be exhausted after helping Quinn get cleaned up last night.”
My cheeks would normally burn bright red with embarrassment, but I couldn’t care less. So we were loud, and everyone knows what we were up to in the bathroom. I’ll take the teasing a thousand times over. Ryland is alive and getting better, and that alone is worth the humiliation.
“Fuck off.” I say, playfully dismissing them. “Let me go check on him.”
When I return to our makeshift room, Ryland has his clothes on, minus his shoes. He sits at the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. His back moves up and down with each deep breath he takes like he has overexerted himself.
I sit beside him and rub my hand along his spine. “You overdid it last night,” I tease.
He turns his head and rests his cheek on the top of his clasped hands. “I'm just feeling lightheaded, but it was worth it.”
“Yeah.” I give him a quick peck on the lips and kneel in front of him. Taking his combat boot, I hold it open for him.
“I feel useless,” he says, wiggling his foot inside.
“I don’t know about that. You were pretty useful to me last night.” I say with a giggle, holding out the second boot.
“I'm here to serve, love. But seriously, I've spent days lying on my back, doing nothing. I don't like being the weakest link.”
Once I finish tying his shoes, I rise onto my knees and take his face in my hands. “You have done so much for all of us. You've been the glue that held us all together. It's our turn to take care of you, and you're not the weakest link. Those guys want your approval and input. They trust you with their lives, even if you're not physically where you need to be.”
“We're so close to getting home. I don't want to be the reason we don't make it,” he confesses, his eyes turning glassy with welling tears.
For years, he's dedicated his life to his friends' safety, and being unable to fend for them is a massive blow to his self-esteem. I know it's vital to who he is to be the leader they've grown to respect and depend upon. It kills me that he thinks he’s any less of the man we respect because of what happened to him.
“You and I are a team, Ry. That means when you're down for the count, I step up my game for the both of us. I know how much this means to you, and I won't let you fail. I'm going to help you get all of us home.”
He cradles my cheeks and gives me two sweet kisses. “Thank you, Quinn.”
“I'd do anything for you, Ryland.”
“I know.”
I take his hand and help him to his feet. “Let's get out of here and see if we can find a flight back to Giran.”